#making this post fr made me tear up

[luvevee]

The second Clavell walked into my house to hand deliver papers because of a mistake he admitted to I knew my school trauma was gonna be cured

[irishmammonagenda]

Death is a Debatable Thing-Obey Me x Reader

Summary: MC died 😱 and reincarnated as an angel, as per usual; chaos ensues. Word Count: 6.9k Warnings: Mention of Death, Cursing, Torture (mentioned, no torture happens) Michael is featured heavily in this, I just made up a personality for him, I don't play NB a lot (it makes me too sad) and I think he shows up there so if this is different to how he's portrayed there then L for me. Everyone except Luke was written as and can be read as Romantic(/platonic if you prefer)You can read Michael as Romantic, but I wrote him more Platonically.

post dividers from @saradika-graphics on tumblr (their dividers r really cool check them out if u havent fr (sorry for tagging you btw i just wanted to give credit)

"Absolutely not." You say, looking at your new found wings. "I did not die just to be reincarnated with the ugliest clothing I've ever seen."

"Would you have preferred to have been reincarnated as bare as Eve was in Eden?" The man you'd come to know as Michael. His dark skin shone in the blessed light of the celestial realm, his thick curly hair was pinned back in such a delicate fashion you wanted to unpin all the ornaments in it. Your fingers twitched at your sides.

"Isn't that against modesty rules or something...?" You paused, Simeon was an angel, he essentially had his ass out at all times anyway. Whore.

Michael stares at you weirdly, before playing with one of the loose strands of his hair, pulling the tight coil until it was completely straight before letting go and letting it spring back up again. Now you really wanted to mess up his hair. Just to annoy him.

"So anyway..." You start, sitting on a cloud that you fall through. For a moment you think you're about to pull a Lucifer and fall through the sky, but you manage to grab onto something and pull yourself up. That something is Michael's ankle and he's laughing at you, wiping a tear from ruby red eyes that shine just like that of his fallen brother.

"Stop laughing at me! Anyway, when can i go to the Devildom?" You inquire, watching Michael's face turn stern. He glares down at where you're lying, still gripping his ankle

"You're not returning to the Devildom anytime soon." He says sharply.

Your breath hitches. "Why not?! I have to let the brothers and Dia and Barbs and Sol and everyone else know I didn't die!"

"You did die. Why do you think you're an angel." Michael sighs, "and no. You're not letting them know you've returned."

"Why not?!" You repeat, outraged. "No offence though MC, but you´ve just died." "So?" You reply with indignation. "So," Michael says in a mocking tone, pitching his deep voice up high before letting it fall down the octaves once more. "You're barely able to walk on clouds or do anything yet. Letting you down to the Devildom is the equivalent of sending a baby bird into a den of lions."

"But...they'd protect me." You said softly, Michael's tone softens as well, laying a gentle hand on your shoulder.

"They'd also over-protect you, they've just lost you. I don't think you're ready for that smothering just after your death."

You nod. Michael's soft expression turns devious, "Plus, this way, you have plenty of time to think about how youre going to scare my broth-...the brothers and everyone else whilst proving you're alive...well an angel..."

You grin too. "Amazing point Mr Michael."

He plays with his golden locks again, an idiosyncracy. "Anytime" He grins before beginning to walk again, you grab onto his ankle tighter. "Oh and Mc?"

"Yeah?"

"Call me Mr Michael again and I'm shaving all you hair off. And trust me. Angel hair does not grow back." He smiles evilly. You shudder.

Well it turns out Michael is a fucking liar.

After being a little bit too bored during your second month of being an angel and first month of learning not to fall through the clouds in Michael's private garden that consists purely of clouds and a singular harp he stole from some poor Irish Deity, you go bored and snipped your unnaturally long angel hair up to your waist. You didn't want to go too short just yet.

In the time frame of a week you learnt two things.

One: Angel hair does grow back, maybe a tiny bit faster than human hair, and Two, Michael was babysitting the harp. Turns out the Deity was called the Dagda and he was visiting France on holidays for some reason, poor man, having to go to France and deal with all the French People there. Turns out he left the harp in Michael's hands, something about Fomoranians not being smart enough to see this one coming.

You just nodded and slowly backed away. Michaels red eyes followed you. He and Lucifer had to be twins.

Another day passed. The more you thought about it, the more Michael and Lucifer had to be twins. After having cut your hair to just below your shoulders, you found a piece of unnecessarily fancy parchment paper and a quill on Michael's desk

Holding the black quill in your hands you felt a sense of familiarity wash over you. Was that?....

No fucking way.

Michael was using one of Lucifer's feathers as a quill. You cackled.

After much deliberation you'd realised you could not write with a quill, but also that you were very good at ripping paper and making blotches of ink on said paper with a quill.

You decided to snoop in Michael's desk for a pen, instead you found a drawer titled, 'LUKE ONLY' in cursive letters, the label was stuck to the drawer so obviously you opened it.

Colouring books, letters written by Luke from the Devildom, Report Cards, Crayons, Drawings, and a pack of stickers were left in the drawer, a notepad lay next to it, Michael's cursive handwriting all over it 'Activities to do', it had things like 'Bowling' and 'Baking' and 'Gardening' and 'Teach him how to knit' and 'Arts and Crafts' and 'Prank Jesus' and 'Take him to Human Realm Cinema' and and anything else really. You cooed, your ivory wings rustling happily.

You grabbed a crayon and began to write.

WHY MICHAEL AND LUCI ARE TWINS one; same eyes two; both evil three; both hot four; satan is basically luci's son if you think about it and michael has blond hair too, if luci and michael are twins that means that blond hair is in the gene pool and thats how satn has blond hair even though luci has black hair five; both like wearing dramatic cape coat things six; both of them baby luke seven; they ha

"What are you doing?" Michael asks, startling you, and ruining your next point of 'they have hands', "Why is my drawer open?" He grabs the parchment from you, reads it and bellows out in laughter.

"We are twins you could've asked." He smiled, "also put the crayon back thats Red and Luke likes colouring in Teddy Bears red."

"Yessir."

You were a master conspiracy theorist.

In the end, you and Michael had decided on visiting the Devildom for 'diplomatic' reasons, but upon seeing the glint in his eyes it was probably more for 'dicklomatic' reasons seeing as he's an utter dickhead.

You had a veil covering your face, seeing as you were still kind of legally and widely believed to be dead.

You know, the usual.

You walked behind Michael, attempting to kick at the back of his knees, it never worked sadly. You took a deep breath as you reached the RAD council room doors.

Michael grabs you by your shoulders whispering into your ear. "Now remember MC im going to use you as a bargaining tool, so keep that veil on till i say so, got it?" He grins.

You nod, knowing that 'bargaining tool' in Michaelish translates to 'im bored and want to see a dramatic reunion'

Michael opens the doors.

You walk in with him but stand at the door awkwardly, steeling yourself so you don't immediately run into any of your idiots' arms.

Luke apparently had the same idea, as when he saw Michael, he let out a happy 'yip!' kind of sound similar to a puppy's and then ran from where he stood beside Simeon and Solomon into the Archangel's arms.

Michael catches him happily, petting his head as the young angel nuzzles into his hair, blabbering on about who knows what. Asmo takes a photo of it, everyone else stares with varying levels of fondness, awkwardness and 'meh'.

Sadly for you however, once Simeon is done greeting Michael, and Michael is now distracted by Luke introducing him to Barbatos who is apparently the 'bestest baker in the world!' (you could agree with that sentiment), Simeon walked over to you, his serene smile on his face.

"Hello, I'm Simeon, forgive me for asking, but do I know you? You have a familiar aura."

You shake your head.

"Oh, never the matter" Simeon smiles, "What's your name then. my friend?"

You clear your throat and put on a deep american accent, "Rupert...Pleasure to meet you...Simeon.."

"Are you sure we haven't met before?"

"Certain." You say in the same ridiculous voice.

Simeon nods, he excuses himself after Solomon calls him over, you turn to glance at Michael who is carrying a now sleeping Luke in his arms and gently stroking the boy's golden hair while stressing out Lucifer with questions. Satan looks on with a smirk on his face.

Glancing around the room you see similar scenes, Mammon and Levi are playing a game on the latter's switch, Asmo, Solomon and Simeon are talking, sometimes glancing at you. Barbatos and Diavolo were watching Michael annoy Lucifer, with both sometimes adding their input, causing Michael to laugh loudly then stiffle it, so as not to wake up the sleeping baby in his arms. Beel and Belphie were near the others but still off in their own twin world, Belphie was awake and watching Michael bully Lucifer from where his head laying sleepily on his twin's leg.

Raphael, Thirteen and Mephisto had been sent out on a top secret mission the day before, Michael had said it was because he didnt want to die and also did not want his death to be put in the RAD Newspapers, especially a picture of him that was less than flattering.

Even though everyone seemed joyous, you noticed an air of sadness, like something was missing. Looking at your old seat in the student council you see the amount of flowers set on it.

Against your better judgement, you walk towards it. Not noticing a few pairs of eyes following you.

When you reach your former desk, you notice a photo of you framed, it was you and everyone, a family photo, everyone was either in their demon, angel or reaper forms, you wore really cheap red horns with a halo you shoved on one of them whilst also wearing an old reaper robe. It looked ridiculous, you loved it.

"Enjoying yourself? Rupert.~" a honeyed voice startles you. Asmo, although, somethings in his voice, maybe anger, maybe suspicion.

"Uhhh.." You say in your fake american accent.

"I'm Asmodeus, avatar of lust.~ Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Guess so." You shrug Americanly, thankful once more the veil covers your whole face.

Asmo's eyes have some hurt in them, he seems...catty, probably because you, who he thinks is a random stranger is just standing at his dead loved one's desk.

L.

You open your mouth to say something, but no sound comes out, especially not when another familiar voice is added to the mix.

"Well hello. I don't believe we've met before. The name's Solomon. You must've heard of me."

Oh shit.

"Oh...I have, briefly! Hello Solomon, my name's Robert." You say in your fake deep american accent voice.

Asmo tilts his head, "I thought your name was Rupert?"

Shit.

"Oh. Yes" You quickly bullshit, "My name's got the hyphens, Robert-Rupert." You avoid eye contact despite the fact you have a veil covering your face that only lets you see out of it, so the sorcerer and demon can't even make eye contact with you, even if they wanted to.

This was getting awkward.

"You seem very familiar Robert-Rupert." Solomon says, you did not like that crafty smile.

"I get that a lot." You nod before walking away.

You walk towards Michael who, has a now awake but sleepy Luke in his arms, he sits on one of the sofas in the council room beside Simeon, with Barbatos, Diavolo and Lucifer facing them on the other sofa. Atleast you'll be safe from Solomon over here. As you walk, you notice Satan, Beel and Belphie have left. Either Lucifer was going to get pranked or Lucifer was going to get pranked but not as prankily because Beel unknowingly made puppy-eyes. Mammon and Levi were bickering quietly in a corner (shocking they could do it quietly) about who won the lat round of Devilio kart.

When Michael saw you approaching he waved you over, beckoning you to sit down in the empty space beside him, "This is an angel I'm currently training, their name is.....Steven."

Simeon tilts his head "I thought their name was Rupert?"

Michael clears his throat awkwardly.

You make your voice the deep horrible American accent, "My full name is Robert-Rupert-Steven...it's hyphenated."

Michael nods aggressively.

Lucifer, Simeon, and Barbatos side-eye eachother. Something was going on here.

"So, Robert-Rupert-Steven," Barbatos begins, his polite smile a little jagged at the edges, "I saw you at MC's desk earlier, how so?"

At the mention of your actual name, everyone there tenses up, Luke, thankfully is too sleepy to have realised, Michael quickly stands up with the small angel in his strong arms, knowing if he heard the conversation about to occur he would be upset, "I should probably go, give this one a walk around to wake him up a little. Simeon, would you like to come with me?"

Simeon nods, Michael and Him leave the council room, with Luke sleepily holding both of their hands and walking slowly along with them.

Now you were stuck with the Prince of the Devildom, the Scary Butler and the Scary Single-Dad. All of which haven't realised that it's you, and all of which thinking you are a random stranger.

"Well, Robert-Rupert-Steven?" Diavolo asks, his friendly demeanor the tiniest bit strange,"What captivated you to go towards MC's desk."

"Who's MC?" You decide to play it dumb. Bad decision, seeing as all three stiffen, Barbatos' being the most unnoticeable.

A very long 3 hour conversation went by, wherein, Diavolo, Lucifer, Barbatos as well as a certain Mammon and Levi who joined 10 minutes in, and an Asmo and Solomon who joined 12 minutes in talked about you, for 3 hours straight.

'AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.' was an accurate reprenstation of your mental state actually.

The urge to just rip your veil off right there was almost stronger than the urge to dropkick Maddi anytime you remembered she existed. Keyword being almost.

You just about made it out of the council room with your life. Now for your master plan. Scare the absolute shit out of the Anti-Lucifer-League. That'll get them back for never listening to your amazing prank suggestion of leaving random origami swans around the house in random spots. It was genius!

Breaking into the House of Lamentation was always easy when you knew that Mammon hid his emergency house key behind the garden gnome that now you saw it....kind of looked like a really bad rendition of Michael. With its dark skin, A DnD-esque robe and, a horrible smiley face painted on it, and the worst crime of all, bright yellow, almost neon hair, and also a princess tiara.

You almost cackled.

Taking the key you slowly open the door to the kitchen and sneakily sneak in. Sadly for you, it was they key to the kitchen door to the outside of the back of the house, which meant it opened in the kitchen, and since it opened in the kitchen, you awkwardly waved at Beel, who was having a midnight feast.

Beel tilts his head. "You're the Angel from earlier. What are you doing here?"

You once more, fake your Robert-Rupert-Steven voice and say, "I have Materials for the Anti-Lucifer League as they've suggested."

You are such a good liar.

"Oh," Beel nods, normally he wouldn't let a stranger into the house, but something felt...familiar...and safe with you. "Okay then, do you know where you're going?"

"Yes."

Beel nods, and goes back to eating the pudding labelled 'MAMMONS: BEEL DONT TOUCH THESE'

After much searching, you do not find the Anti-Lucifer-League, but you do unfortunately, open the door to Lucifer's office. The place where Lucifer currently is.

He looks up immediately on guard. You are not prepared to die a second time,

"What are you-" He begins, in demon form and standing up.

You interrupt him, making 'woooooh!' sounds and waving your arms about, and in your Robert-Rupert-Steven voice, you say "Wooooh! I am the....ghost of christmas past!...Woooh! and I am..." You pause, not noticing your Robert-Rupert-Steven voice has began to slip away, and your natural one has taken its place. "I am here to tell youuuuu.....to woohhhh! Take breaks more! Woooh!....and not overwork yourself! Woooh!"

Lucifer pauses, the danger in his eyes fades into disbelief. He knows that voice. He's spent the better part of a year listening to recordings of that voice and praying to his Father for the first time since the celestial war for that voice to return to him.

"..MC?.."

You've been found out. Quickly you put your Robert-Rupert-Steven voice back on, except it's gone up 12 pitches. "Who's MC?! Haha! What a weird thing to sa-"

You don't get to finish, as Lucifer pulls your veil off. His breath hitches upon seeing your face.

Your covers been blown. All because you pretended to be the ghost of Christmas past. Great.

Lucifer immediately pulls you into a hug, arms tightening around you, as if he's afraid you'd disappear. He chuckles, wiping tears from his eyes, his frame shakes. "I thought-thought I'd lost you forever...I always thought your face was angelic...-...it's fitting."

You hug him just as tightly.

But ever the menace, after about an hour or so, you look up at the Avatar of Pride, "Say, Luci?"

"Yes, my dove?"

"Wanna help me prank the rest of them?"

"Perhaps...I might help with...some setups..." He pauses, "You are telling Barbatos outright though."

You shudder. "Of course I am. I don't have a second deathwish."

Lucifer's grip on you tightens slightly, you kiss his cheek in apology. "Sorry," You grin, "Too soon?"

"Try again in another century dear."

The next day, the first thing you and Lucifer do is travel to the Demon Lord´s Castle.

Barbatos greets you in the Entrance Hall, "Oh, Lucifer," He nods in greeting at the eldest of the brothers (second eldest actually, seeing as Michael enjoys bragging that he's older by a whopping total of 2 minutes) he turns to you, who put the veil back on, "And Robert-Rupert-Steven, Welcome to the Demon Lord's Castle, although, I must ask, why you have shown up today?"

In your Robert-Rupert-Steven voice, you accidentally, against your better judgement, and rather impulsively state; "I'm here to assassinate Dia-...volo."

A portal opens, dragging you through it, and you land in the feared rumoured dungeons. Barbatos follows gracefully, now in Demon Form. Leaving a sighing Lucifer in his wake in the Entrance Hall. He decides to just journey to Diavolo's office and discuss things related to work. Barbatos wouldn't hurt you when he found out it was you so he really had nothing to worry about. Maybe you'd finally learn to stop joking about assassinating Diavolo, especally when other Noble Demons were around at Balls.

Sadly for you, you were now alone in Barbatos' Dungeons. Now what's scarier than being alone in Barbatos' Dungeons? Being alone with Barbatos in Barbatos' dungeons.

Time to run away.

As it turns out, running away isn't very easy when magic chains pin you to the wall. In your panic, you blurt out, "You know, I'd rather you pin me to the wall haha!" in your normal voice. The fear forcing your horrible puns and jokes to slip out.

Barbatos, who had been approaching menacingly calmly with a torture device pauses so fast it gives you whiplash. (Better than getting whiplash from the whip he was previously holding.)

In some display akin to a cockroach kind of squirming about after you crush it, in your chained up state you manage to twitch enough that you were able to pinch a piece of your veil's fabric just enough that it falls to the ground.

Immediately, the magic chains fall away, strong arms catch you as you stumble. "Hi Barbs..." You say breathlessly.

Barbatos looks like he'd seen a ghost. (You were an Angel, thank you very much.) After your death he had tried and tried to pull a you from another dimension. It would never work, some force stopped him each time. (To be fair, it was probably your jealous ass. No way in Diavolo were you being replaced by yourself from another dimension.)

His bottom lip trembles, much like the rest of his body, as he leans in, "May I, my dear?" You nod, giving him your consent as he kisses you so gently, as if he feared you would break or fade away.

He murmurs apology upon apology for the fact he had no doubt frightened you, he couldn't risk a threat to Diavolo, your 'death' had left him a little...tethered and emotional.

You close your eyes and kiss him again, now noticing you're in the kitchens and not in the spooky scary dungeon.

"Wanna bake cookies? Like we always used to do?"

Barbatos nods softly. "You do have to tell Lord Diavolo you're actually alive though, little lamb."

Your eyes light up. "We could make a cake! And hide me inside it!"

Barbatos sighs, but looking at your puppy eyes, he agrees. Gently he picks a stray ivory feather from your wings, making them rustle at the touch. Devil...you looked angelic.

Baking with Barbatos was always fun, but sadly he did not agree with your attempt at throwing flour at him.

"MC?" He catches your attention, bringing an ungloved hand to caress your face, "Have I ever told you that you shine brighter than all the stars in the Devildom?"

You blush and try to cover your face when he turns away to add more eggs into your batter only to find flour on your face. That sneaky bastard! Psychological warfare is illegal. And that sure felt like it.

It was on.

Apparently it was only on for you though. Though you did get a speck of flour on Barbatos' apron. That was a win, especially if you ignore the fact that your face and apron were covered in the white powder, which you were ignoring! So take that Barbatos!

In the end, the cake was beautiful, Barbatos helped you into the cake, and cut out a you shaped hole out of the layers made.

He then helped you out again, and the Flour War began again only this time with icing.

Hiding in a cake is quite a fun experience. Especially when you can take bites of your hiding space. Yum yum.

You feel Barbatos' wheeling of you stop as he reaches Diavolo's office, he knocks on the door, and as you requested, begins to film on his DDD (you had to promise the video would never get out of your hands.)

Diavolo sat alone, Lucifer had had to leave an hour before, Beel had went on a rampage in Hell's Kitchen again apparently.

"My Lord, I feel you have been feeling down, so here is a treat." Barbatos says, "And as a special treat, I will allow you to cut it yourself." He nods at Diavolo who you can just picture has stars in his eyes as you hear the demon butler walk to a corner of the room, still filming.

Diavolo brings the knife to the cake, as it cuts into it, you grab the blade and pull it forward. Upon hearing Divaolo's confused murmurs, You peek through the tiny hole the knife made, seeing Diavolo distracted, tilting his head like a child and asking Barbatos what he should do now.

You however know what you should do now.

Quick as a flash, you shove your hands through the cake, reach for Diavolo's arms and pull him in face first.

You didn't even care if it was probably treason. Diavolo's suprised screaming and Barbatos' slight surprised chuckle was so worth it.

It was worth it for Diavolo even after 4 hours, as he held you in his big arms, whilst the both of you were still covered in cake. Barbatos, the traitor, snapped photos of this and sent them to Lucifer.

On a great note, Diavolo agreed to help prank the rest of the brothers with you, much to Barbatos' dismay. (The butler was definitely going to help you with a certain sorcerer, however)

After a night and day at the castle and a very extensive bath, you recollected your veil, and snuck out (read: Barbatos and Diavolo waved goodbye to you and gave you some left over cake for the journey home) of the castle, you began your walk to Purgatory Hall.

Michael was staying there, and you needed to tell him everyone's reactions so far.

It was also a Saturday, meaning that Solomon would be out in Sorcerer's society meetings all night and morning.

When you got there you made use of the tree there and climbed up it until you saw something in Luke's room. You paused your climbing and looked in through the window.

Two figures were in the Young Angel's room.

As Luke lay tucked in in his bed, cuddling the dog plushie that Mammon had given him at a carnival last year that he claims to have thrown away, Michael and Simeon sat on his bed, the nightlight on the boy's bedside table created a gentle glow that the two elder were using to read the storybook strew across both of their laps aloud, they appeared to be acting it out ever so slightly. When Luke finally drifted off. Both Angels kissed his forehead then dimmed the nightlight down slightly, dim enough where it wouldn't hurt the boy's eyes but bright enough that the dark wouldn't scare him if he woke up in the middle of the night, keeping the curtains open for added light.

You cooed silently, your white wings rustling.

Snapping out of it, you scale across the wall before finding the spare room Michael was staying in and breaking in.

"Hello Motherfucker." You greet the Archangel.

"You couldn't pay me to fuck your mother."

"Harsh. And here I was about to tell you my escapades..." You sigh dramatically. Michael immediately smiles sweetly. Buttering you up. You cave.

After about an hour of Michael laughing at you specifically, and then changing your contact to 'ghost of christmas past' the bastard finally fell asleep.

Feeling thirsty, you snuck downstairs into the kitchen to get a drink, and also a sharpie so you could draw a mustache on Michael's face. Not bothering to put your veil on seeing as no one would be awake anyway.

As you filled up a glass of water and leaned against the kitchen counter drinking it, lost in your own plans, mainly of who to prank nest and how to do it.

You don't hear the little pitter-patter of feet until it's too late.

"MC?" A sleepy Luke stands in the doorway in cat themed pajamas no doubt gifted to him by a certain someone, he holds his dog plush loosely as he rubs his eyes with a tiny fist.

He walks slowly towards the cupboard, pouting sleepily when he realises he can't reach it, you immediately grab his favourite mug,(the one with the red tractor on it) knowing to put milk and some sugar in it before placing it in the microwave for 2 minutes.

Luke walks over to you still half asleep, resting his face on your side, you bring him in for a hug. "Simeon said you went to a happy place after you left, he always got sad when I asked when you were coming home..."

You bite your lip and speak softly, "My flight got delayed for a little while," You lie. Luke didn't need to know you died, Simeon hadn't told him in the best of ways to shield the young boy, that worked out in your favour.

You catch the microwave before it beeps, taking the warm milk out and stirring the hot-spots out of it before handing it to Luke. With his teddy now in the crook of his elbow, he sleepily took the mug before putting his tiny hand in yours.

"C'mon Luke, let's get you back to bed." You say softly, he nods tiredly.

"Will you tuck me in? And read me a bedtime story?" He yawns quietly.

"Of course."

After closing his curtains and tucking Luke in, he snuggles up to you and you read him a bedtime story, after drinking his warm milk, he falls asleep quite quickly, so do you.

A mistake, really. Seeing as in the morning when Simeon comes in to wake the small angel up and sees you there he lets out a shriek very out-of-character for him.

A shriek which wakes both you and Luke up.

Luke smiles toothily, "Oh Simeon! MC came back last night! Did you not see?"

Simeon collects himself, "I must've been asleep Luke, why don't you get dressed then come down for breakfast? Michael and I made pancakes. M-MC, why don't you come downstairs now?"

Luke nods and gets up dutifully.

As soon as you leave the room and Simeon is sure you're both out of the earshot of Luke, he pulls you into a hug which you return.

"I thought I'd lost you.." He breathes out softly.

"Me? C'mon Simmy...you know I'd never let death keep me." You laugh, he laughs breathlessly.

"I suppose not...." He captures your lips in a soft innocent kiss before leading you downstairs, hand-in-hand.

When Michael sees the two of you he offers you a pancake, far too casually for Simeon's taste.

Simeon looks between the two of you and glares at Michael. "You knew about this."

"Haha! Funny story actually! I need to go help Jesus! He's gone and ventured into another desert!" Michael laughs nervously before booking it, only coming back when Luke appears, knowing then he's safe from Simeon's wrath....

....for now.

You took out your super serious napkin and crayon that you stole from Diavolo (read: Diavolo gave you) and crossed out Simeon's name.

Your list was now as follows:

Purgatory Hall Simeon Solomon House of Lamentation Mammon Levi Satan Asmo Beel Belphie

For Satan and Belphie, you could knock out two Anti-Lucifer-League Birds with one stone. It felt a little mean to prank prank Levi and Beel...Mammon and Asmo were debatable, but you were going all out on Solomon. That'll teach him to turn you into a sheep that one time 2 years ago.

After careful deliberation and planning, (20 seconds of thinking.) You'd decided to sneak into the Sorceror's society and jokingly attempt to assassinate Solomon, and maybe fully assassinate Maddi if she was there. Not maybe, definitely.

Veil over your head, you walked in, when the sorcerer guards stopped you, you just pretended to be Michael then walked further in. Apparently they were terrified of the Archangel. Damn this society needs better sorcerers securitying it.

After stealing schedules you realised Solomon would be in a meeting right now with a bunch of no names. Oh well.

You crept into the meeting and attempted to plunge the butter knife Barbatos' gave you from the castle kitchens specifically for this in his neck, knowing he'd dodge. "This is for the Sheep Potion you Rat Bastard!" You screech like a Bean Sídhe. After half a millisecond of shock and slight anger, Solomon realises who it is behind the veil, laughing he grabs the arm you're holding the butter knife in and drags you into his lap, gently ripping the veil off of you and giving you a peck on the forehead, before he turns to the shocked and slack-jawed sorcerers that looked older than he did. "Sorry all, my adorable partner," He puncuates the word partner by pulling you closer to him, "missed me a little too much. and has-" He kisses you on the lips passionately for a moment, leaving you very much breathless and him very much chuckling, "-strange ways of showing their affection."

Bastard.

Some time into the meeting you whisper, "How are you not more shocked?"

"Well Robert-Rupert," He whispers teasingly back to you, "Remember that binding spell we did back when you were alive? It never broke. I knew the moment I saw you."

Your heart stops. "Did you tell anyone else?"

"I debated telling Asmo, but I suppose you wanted to on your own terms." He teases.

"I should've tried to stab you with a sharper knife."

Solomon laughs, "Oh and MC my love?"

"Hmm?"

His eyes glint predatorily, "You look absolutely ravishing as an angel. I can't help but want to corrupt you..."

You bury your face in his chest to hide your blush.

Bastard.

On the bright side, now a rumour that Solomon the Wise and Michael the Archangel are secret lovers has spread around the Devildom. You're counting that as a win.

Purgatory Hall Simeon Solomon House of Lamentation Mammon Levi Satan Asmo Beel Belphie

After your encounter with Solomon, you'd decided learning to just hide your angel form was the best course of action. Luckily it was fucking easy and you could've done it ages ago. Strange how Simeon and Luke never mentioned it....meh. You're pretty sure Luke just thought Michael thought you were super cool so he made you an angel. You weren't telling him anything otherwise.

´Satan and Belphie watch your fucking backs.´ was the pedal note of all your thoughts currently, you´d snuck back into the House of Lamentation, thankfully Beel was not in the kitchen, he was at Fangol at this hour.

Walking through the halls stealthily, you heard whispers as two sets of feet seemed to enter the room at the farthest end of the hallway. Lucifer´s room.

You fucking caught them.

No time to be caught in Lucifer´s room, seeing as if you were there long enough and Lucifer caught you, you would not be leaving for a good while.

So you crept up to the attic, the official Anti-Lucifer-League headquarters, you climbed the pillars to get on the roof and you waited.

Sure enough, ten minutes later, snickering could be heard coming up to the attic. Satan opens the door, letting Belphie in, both brothers in various fits of sniggering as they walk into the room.

"He'll never see this one coming!" "This is our best one yet."

From your place on the attic ceiling, you spot Lucifer filming on his DDD from the shadows of the doorway. Of course he found out about this.

"Of course it's our best one yet!"

You swing down off of the ceiling beam, swinging lightly upside down. "And you didn't invite me?" You pout.

Satan and Belphie scream, clutching onto eachother, before noticing that it's you and running to pull you down and clutch onto you instead. You notice Lucifer chuckle and put his DDD in his pocket before leaving. Traitor.

You cuddle into your two Anti-Lucifer League Brethren, maybe this wasn't so bad. (Of course it wasn't, you loved your idiots.)

Safe to say, you didn't leave the attic for a long time. Apparently people need time to process that you're not actually dead. What madness.

House of Lamentation Mammon Levi Satan Asmo Beel Belphie

You had long unentangled yourself with a sleeping Belphie and Satan, making sure to leave a:

it wasnt a dream dont worry lads im alive.

note on their chests just in case.

Sitting in the attic with your napkin and crayon in hand, you ripped the Purgatory Hall part off of it and used the back of it for that note, you scanned through the list. You should save your First Man for last, so your next options were Beel, Asmo and Levi.

Seeing as you've shown yourself to Belphie, it's only natural your gentle giant is next.

Watch your fucking back Beel. Literally

Speaking of, it's been a few hours, Beel should be coming back from Fangol practice any moment now.

As was routine at this point, you crept through the House of Lamentation's halls and quickly ran into Beel and Belphie's shared bedroom.

As Beel walked into the room, his Fangol bag slung across his chest and a pile of after Fangol snacks in his hands, you braced yourself, made a run for it, anf landed right square on his back, arms around his neck to keep from falling.

"Oh hi MC!" Beel hummed cheerfully, before his eyes widened and he dropped his snacks. "MC?!"

"Hi!"

Quick as a flash, Beel maneuvers himself in 'dying cockroach you in Barbatos' dungeons part two' and grabs you into his arms.

"I thought you died..." He said, smelling your hair as he cuddled you.

"I did. I just came back as an angel."

"Really?" His breath hitches, "Can I see?.."

You take a deep breath and your wings and halo pop out, he strokes them gently.

"You're beautiful..." He whispers, enraptured...."I think...out of all of Father's creations over the years since the celestial war...you're the most precious...."

He speaks softly, always the gentle giant, the moment lasts for just a moment, before the moment, like all moments do, has passed. Beel's stomach rumbles and you giggle.

"You should eat your snacks, Beelie.."

"They always taste better when we share." He nods seriously.

House of Lamentation Mammon Levi Satan Asmo Beel Belphie

Levi or Asmo? You bit your crayon in thought then immediately made a face. Crayons did not taste nice.

Speaking of things that did not taste nice, you remembered that one time you tried to eat Levi's controller because you were bored.

Levi it was!

You had to time this perfectly, waiting in the shadows until Levi went down to get a snack, you snuck into his room, saying the answer to his password out of pure habit, before sitting on his gamer chair and maneuvering it in such a way he would not be able to see anyone on it from the door.

When Levi walked into his room, a bag of crisps in hand, he took a few steps before you swung around "Boo!" and he screamed. Dropping his crisps.

After convincing him you were infact not a ghost (Unlike Lucifer's), you sat with him in your arms, watching anime, and getting caught up on the new episodes released.

You cuddled up to him in his bathtub that night. You grinned evilly. This gave you an idea.

House of Lamentation Mammon LeviSatan Asmo Beel Belphie

It was no secret that Asmo bathed a lot. Funfact, Angels can hold their breath for 30 minutes!

As Asmo was busy picking out which pajamas he wanted to wear after his bath, you tiptoed behind him and slowly got in his bath, hiding under the bubbles.

It took a total of five minutes before Asmo closed the door to his bathroom and got into his bath, this was your chance! Reaching out, you grabbed his foot and pulled him under.

He screeched, when got back above the surface of the water, he grabbed your hand and pulled you over.

He squealed this time, hugging you tightly.

"Oh MC darling!~ I thought you were...well never the matter~...." He punctuated each word by kissing your face all over, leaving you squirming in his grasp out of embarassment. "How naughty!~ Sneaking into my bath like that...~...not that you arent always welcome my lovely!~"

"A-asmo," You say, your clothes soaked, though you couldn't find yourself caring. "Asmo, I love you..." your voice is soft and the Avatar of Lust coos.

It was a nice night.

Time for your final victim. Your First Man. Feeling nice, you decided not to do something too mean.

Painstakingly, you made a trial of grimm from the front door to your First Man's room, more specifically; to his bed. The plan was to hide behind the door and jumpscare him while he was busy collecting the grimm.

Unfortunately for you, seeing as you weren't sure when Mammon got off his modelling shift, you'd finished far too early, and since you and Asmo were up the entire night, you were quite sleepy.

Surely a little 5 minute nap wouldnt hurt?

You woke up hours later to a sobbing Mammon on top of you, cuddling you in his arms like his life depended on it. It seems you'd falled asleep on his bed, more specifically in his nest.

In the nest you would normally sleep in while alive. (While Human technically, seeing as you are alive, just not human.)

You bring a hand to his snowy locks, he sobs harder. Like his brother, kissing all over your face softly, "Thought I lost ye' forever Hum'n" he gasps for air, his sobs quieting down, "Though' you were gone....I prayed ev'ry nigh'...." he says, voice barely above a whisper as he strokes your cheek, looking into your eyes. "I prayed ta Fath'r ev'ry nigh' since ye' died...that he'd bring ye' back te me...."

"And he did..." You say just as softly, bringing your hand up to wipe the tears from his eyes, sharing a soft kiss with him. As always, your greedy lovable bastard would want more, and you'd want nothing more than to give them to him.

And the next day when you told Michael you'd be staying in the Devildom he cheered, then told you to include him in this 'Anti-Lucifer League business' because it 'seemed fun'.

Wow. Now you knew where Satan got it from. Poor Lucifer, he just barely got away from Michael in the Celestial realm, and now he has to deal with Michael 2.0 in the Devildom.

Satan and Michael really were kind of similar....maybe it's a good thing they've only met in passing.

Moral of the story kids. Death sucks, don't do it. If you do do it, reincarnate. Bam! Problem Solved.

This is the longest ever fic I've ever wrote and probably does not make a lot of sense so I apologise for that. I also apologise for any ooc behaviour i'm still learning how to write characterisation😔✊

also i love thinking of Michael being a father figure to Luke and its very obvious

[crimsonbubble]

nah fr because ever since yunho said he likes his name being whined, I can't stop thinking about it and how pervy he actually is-

he'll probably be into choking (I mean, his hands are perfect for it), he'd loveeeee being rough and filling you up so he can fuck back whatever cum leaks out of you 🫠

don't get me started on how he loves having you ride him or his face, and having you lay flat down on your stomach so he can fuck you and hit the right spots EVERY. DAMN. TIME. and you being a whiney mess for him so he'll just chuckle to himself and fuck you-

yeah...and I'd love to support him under the desk when he plays valorant so maybe he'll get mad at me if he loses and fuck the shut out of me 🫢

Shattered Reflections

cw. nsfw, gn!reader, mirror sex, fingering, overstimulation, dacryphilia, slight mean dom yunho, slight perv yunho *not proofread, just pure horny

[hi, welcome back to another episode of tumblr user crimsonbubble losing their mind over a 25 year old, 6'3, veiny hand having, golden retriever gamer boy. 🎉🎉]

I can't even begin to tell you how often I think about his hands. When I made my last post about yunho, good lord 😮‍💨😮‍💨

But the one image that stayed with me was being placed in his lap while he was facing the mirror. He's got your legs hooked on either side of his own, keeping you on display while he teases you over and over.

Watching his fingers descend your body just to trail back up when he's close to where you want him to touch you. Makes you keep eye contact with yourself in the mirror or he stops touching you altogether.

He's just gently teasing over your hips, watching you hopelessly buck your hips to gain any friction. Yunho just loves to see you like this; a pitiful mess, just for him to see. He loves how easily he can reduce you to tears and jittery moans as he grazes his hands all over you.

God, he fucking loves to see you cry. Don't get him wrong, he hates seeing you upset but seeing your pretty eyes glimmer with wet tears and watching them cascade down your face, has him harder than diamonds.

And he loves squishing your cheeks together and making you look at him. He loves it when tears fill your eyes bc you're feeling so overwhelmed by his sharp gaze but also the intense pleasure he's giving you.

He loves making you cling to him. Making you feel so good that all you can do is wrap yourself around him and dig your nails into his shoulders and back.

Last note; pervy bf yunho would be a pantie stealer/sniffer

[ghost-recs]

can we get some bakugou recs 😊😊 (written and smaus pleaseee)

hello hellooo! oh man do i ever have some! you have no idea the can of worms you are opening my friend.

but first i am so sorry for how late this rec is! i wanted to get this done days ago, but the semester has been crazy packed. i'm going to get through all my asks one by one. thank you for your patience! anyways let's get into this !!

Bakugou Recs

Garden of Lungs (Hanahaki) by oweCrew [ao3]

synopsis: you have your whole life ahead of you, a promising future and jobs lined up after UA...but these stupid flowers are going to be the death of you, literally.

i flew through this fic so fast. it was the first time i had every heard of hanahaki disease and oof to my heart. i loved it!

Late Night Calls by fictionpls [ao3]

synopsis: much to bakugou's disdain, you skipped your meals again. tch, he's basically taking care of you at this point.

cute lil fluff oneshot with bakugou as your best friend...maybe more.

Nothing More, Nothing Less by @dekustowel

synopsis: bakugou made a big whoopsies. the only way to get out of it? fake date you, the internet's sweatheart, duh!

this smau idea has a hold on me. i'm a sucker for the fake dating trope. and i mean seriously, it's bakugou! [ongoing...]

Nerd (Affectionately) by @oniku-niku

synopsis: you're in love with bakugou, have been since you were kids. there was no use in hiding the truth. but did he have to be so rude about it??

most of this smau is a big ouch to the heart. but the drama gets heavier as the story goes on and i'm here for it! happy soft ending! :)

Speak by Kikyo851 [ao3]

synopsis: you could not believe that your soulmate was such a crude and violent person...just to spite the universe and him you decide not to say a word to your "soulmate."

soulmate au in which the first words that your soulmate says to you is written on your wrist. this fulfilled my needs of a bakugou soulmate au! so cute and it is complete!

Of Snowscapes & Explosions by sugarbun [ao3]

synopsis: you've been categorized as second to shoto todoroki ever since grade school. after a frustrated vent to bakugou and a few of his cracks revealing some of his own frustrations you realize that maybe you and him aren't so different after all.

guys....when i tell you this fic is the slowest slow burn. i feel like it's so accurate to how bakugou would actually fall for someone. sadly, this fic is unfished tho and hasn't been updated in a couple years😭 but you should read it anyways.

cover shot (through the heart) by @andypantsx3

cross posted on ao3 here! cover shot (through the heart) by andypantsx3

synopsis: you're the only one who can deal with bakugou's attitude in the industry. he hasn't found something that bothers you...until he starts flirting with you, hello??

model/celebrity au. super cute fic. i'm warning you this is much spicier than some of my other recs. mdni. (also check out this author's other works. they have a lot of top tier content!!)

Motherly Love by @kweenkatsuki-fics

synopsis: bakugou gives his mom a late night call to thank her. the reason why softens her heart greatly.

super soft lil drabble that just about brings me to tears everytime i read it. in love with bakugou fr.

déjà vu by @cashmoneyyysstuff

synopsis: bakugou thinks back to some oddly familiar memories with you. and one thing always stays the same, you both are together.

oneshot the made my jaw drop. hit me hard in the feels.

untitled oneshot by @honeypirate

synopsis: being paired with your number 1 enemy for a group project proved that the universe hated you. well might as well have some fun with this and make bakugou's life just as miserable.

college au oneshot. i am always down for a good enemies to lovers trope!

risky by @kusaka6e

synopsis: moving from another country to work as a pro hero in japan was not the easiest. and a certain hot headed hero only adds to your frustrations.

oneshot about the obvious grown tension between you and pro hero dynamite.

i hope you find something you like! sorry for the late rec, have a lovely day/night!

[andersonfilms]

whats hers is mine | abby anderson

tags: eighteen+, wlw, sexual content, gf’s roommate!abby, toxic!abby, cheating (don't go cheating on your partners this is for fantasy purposes babe), abby fr is menance in this.

an. yeah! i was horny so...this literally came out of my brain so smoothly. do i hate it? yes. but am i still going to post it nd fight my brain telling me not to? yeah! happy reading my h*rny pals.

abby being your girlfriend’s roommate who you harbor a slight attraction towards. it’s nothing big, you have this under control, or at least it’s what you tell yourself. she’s hot, gorgeous, so incredibly muscular it makes you see stars. it tears you apart thinking of all the ways her strength could make you submit to her will.

make you hers.

fuck. but you have a girlfriend.

it’s a reminder you have to repeat over in your mind anytime you catch yourself being too flirty with her, but then she gives it to you right back. now, every night you dream of her milky skin, stunning blues looking right at you, and those soft lips caressing every inch of your skin, leaving marks in their path as abby stakes her claim. yet, you wake up with your girlfriend’s arm around you with your chest feeling warm at the fantasy of someone else. you have to avoid abby before you do something completely idiotic.

yet, she’s the first one to make the first move.

abby knows you’ve been avoiding her like the plague, so when she’s presented with a perfect opportunity, the conflict at hand is met with absolutely no resistance.

“abby, you’ve blocked my car in. can you move yours?” you ask through the shut door. she gives you a soft yes and when you’re two seconds from walking downstairs to meet her in the driveway.

she opens the fucking bathroom door.

water drips down sunkissed freckled skin, glistening from the shower she obviously took. her blonde hair darker than usual, falling down her back. the smirk there is vile, begging you to look further than her blue eyes.

with the way abby is looking at you, there’s no fucking way she doesn’t want it. clearly, she’s more patient than most, waiting for you to drop the eye contact.

“well?” abby lifts her left eyebrows, cocking her head to the side as she waits for you to react, crumble, cry. you’re not sure what exactly she’s looking for. the confidence radiating from her is irritating just as it is enticing.

when you shake your head silently, repeatedly too, the tall blonde takes a one step forward, the pad of her thumb places pressure on your chin, guiding your gaze where she wants. happily, you comply.

jesus fucking christ, you’d fully believe she was made just for you if someone told you.

the auburn towel is secured around hips loosely, her toned abdomen on full display, her small breasts sit beautifully, nipples hardened from the cool air. it’s not fair how fucking perfect she looks. there’s not a damn thing you want more than to wrap your lips around her pink nipples and suck.

“now, are you going to stop pretending you don’t want to fuck me, baby?” abby taunts, her voice light and airy but it shoots right to your core.

“i-i, abby, this is wrong we shouldn’t be doing this. you need to get dressed.” you try to great some distance but abby pulls you towards her as you enter the bathroom with her, left arm shutting the door as she locks it.

“mhm, you’ve been dating for what? two months? don’t be stupid baby, think with that pretty pussy of yours. know she wants me and you do too, babygirl.” abby grabs your hand placing it on her towel, looking at you through half-lidded eyes.

“you can take it off if you want. do you wanna see my pussy baby?”

shit.

your fingertip plays with the fibers, before you can process what you’re doing, it’s unraveling off her strong hips exposing more of her built physique for your greedy eyes. quads are flexing as you take her in, the muscle rippling as you feast on her.

you have never been so truly and royally fucked.

meticulously, she removes each piece of clothing you’re wearing as her lips attack your own. as if she’s been planning this moment since she laid eyes on you. she bends you over the sink, your pretty ass in the air for her and her fingers smooth over your delectable cunt, enjoying the inconsistent twitching your taut body provides.

“now, be a good girl for me and let me fuck my baby, yeah? ‘m gonna fuck you better than she ever would.”

reblogs are appreciated! ♡

DO NOT BUY TLOU, FUCK NEIL DRUCKMANN + EDUCATE YOURSELF + DAILY CLICK FOR PALESTINE + DONATE TO PALESTINE.

[v3nusstardust]

My Love, Mine All Mine

Genre : Comfort, fluff 🙈

Summary : You had a terrible day at work/school. Everyone treated you like shit and as soon as you got home, you began to cry and vent to your boyfriend.

Warnings : none honey this is good Fr 🐺 #baddie

a/n : bois I saw Niki listening to this fkn song on Weverse and freaked the fuck out so here I am🐺.. my ass is also not gonna edit so v sorry for mistakes🧑🏻‍🦲..

Niki held you in his arms, rocking you gently. You were crying, venting to him about your shitty day. Snot, drool, and tears cascaded down your face, smudging your mascara and leaving you feeling terrified of how you must look to your boyfriend. His gentle touch caressed your face. “Look at me.” He whispered. “No.. my makeup is… it’s messed up and I look scary.” You said through sniffles. “Please Angel?” He pleaded softly. His voice was so soft snd smooth, how could you resist? You slowly looked up at him. Your eyes met with his and he gave you a warm smile. “Hi pretty girl..” he cooed. His thumbs tenderly wiped away your warm tears. “I look scary don’t I? Like a raccoon.. or something..” you said. “A cute raccoon.” Niki gently laughed. He continued to caress your face with admiration and love in his eyes.

"Y/N," he whispered, his voice soft and soothing. "Go sit in front of your vanity. I'll be back, okay? I’m gonna go to the kitchen really quick.” He pressed a chaste kiss to your wet cheeks before you reluctantly nodded, your pout and teary eyes melted his heart. "Okay," you murmured softly.

When he returned, his hands were filled with your favorite snacks.🩷

"Alright, here. Eat some snacks," he said, placing them on your wide vanity. You eagerly grabbed a bag of your favorite chips and some candies, feeling a bit more comfortable. You grabbed some makeup wipes and wipes away all of your smudged makeup.

"Where are your hair ties?" he asked, rummaging through your drawer. "They're here on my vanity... why?" you inquired. "Gimme," he replied with a smile, and you handed them to him. He then took out a couple and put them around his wrists.

"Can I connect to your speaker?" he questioned. "Yeah, sure," you replied.

The familiar melody of your favorite song, "My Love, Mine All Mine" by Mitski, filled the room, making you smile. “How’d you know I like this song?” You asked. "I've heard you sing this in the shower a couple of times... you have a beautiful voice, Y/N," he said, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and kissing your forehead. You blushed at the compliment, feeling a rush of warmth.

"Okay... let me know if I'm hurting you... I'm not the best with this stuff," he said, picking up your hairbrush.

Niki began to brush through your hair slowly and gently, his touch soothing and comforting. The tension began to melt away as the gentle strokes of the brush untangled knots and smoothed out your hair. The music played softly in the background, creating a comforting atmosphere in the room.

“Close your eyes. I wanna surprise you.” He smiled. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to get lost in the moment.

You felt Niki's movements around you, a sense of anticipation building in your chest. His touch remained gentle as he worked, his hands moving with practiced ease through your hair. You could faintly hear him singing the song, your favorite🩷 his voice was so pretty , it made you feel so warm inside.

Slowly, you blinked your eyes open, greeted by the sight of yourself in the mirror. Your hair was styled in a cute single braid.

“You look so pretty..” he whispered as he bent down to place a kiss to your cheek. “Say it..” he said. “Huh..? Say what?” You asked. “Say you’re pretty.. look at yourself my love..” he tucked a couple strands of hair behind your ear. “I’m pretty..” you softly smiled at yourself in the mirror. Niki let out a little chuckle. “You should take a picture and post your hair style on your insta.. show it off though that I did it.. I wanna make your exes and secret admirers jealous lowkey..” he laughed.

You rolled your eyes at him. “Is that why you did my hair.. and played my favorite song?…” you questioned with a hint of sass. “No.. I just wanna show my girl how much I love her..you’re mine.. mine all mine..” he said caressing your bottom lip with his thumb before bringing your soft lips to his.

A/n : Ight bois srry for the mistakes if there are any u guys💀 ima disappear for another 3 months.. unless this shi blows up I think😭 🩷x enjoy

[luxbub]

hii!!! i really love your stuff :)

i was wondering if i could request a lil something about how peter (parker ofc) would react to reader being self conscious about looks n being "pretty enough" for him? totally cool if it's not up your alley, i just really like the way you write him! thanks <3

peter parker’s beautiful gf

a/n ilyyy, you’re so sweet, fr kicking my feet rn. I really hope you like it even through my obv incapability of reassuring people. I’ve thought about a more spicy outcome of this blurb so if you’re up to it just tell me and i’ll post it<3

pt.2 (nsfw)

“What are you doing?”

Shit.

You were looking at yourself in the mirror, half-naked in peter’s room. The only clothing you seemed to have on was your underwear and a too-big for you t-shirt with some math pun on it—probably peter’s— that reached to your mid-thigh.

“Um, nothing, i was just getting dressed.” You say softly, with a small smile gracing your face and yet that’s enough to convince peter that there’s something off.

Instead of trying to make you talk which would take hours of you going back and forth, he came up from behind you, his long fingers grabbing at your waist and gently massaging the flesh there, as he leaned his head on your shoulder. His back a little hunched from the height difference, but he seemed not to pay attention to it, giving all his attention to you.

“Do you think i’m pretty?”

Silence rung out in the room, as now you were both looking at your reflection in the mirror—more like your reflection. You were starting to get nervous, as peter kept on staring strictly at you from the mirror.

You had no make up and your hair was a mess, why wouldn’t you be nervous? You rarely let people see you without any of those things in check, so the little sleepovers you had with peter still caused anxious butterflies to flutter in your stomach.

“You are so beautiful.” Peter murmured, into the skin just below your ear. He slowly started trailing kisses on your neck, every few seconds words like “my perfect girl” or “pretty girl” spewing from his lips.

Soon he had littered your whole neck and face with kisses, when he turned you around.

“You are the most beautiful girl, you know that?” Peter asked raising an eyebrow. You faces were a few inches away and his breath was fanning your face as your eyes started stinging.

“You’re even way out of my league, you have no idea how many times a day i wonder how am i so lucky? To have the most beautiful and breathtaking and funny and smart—and god, i can go on for hours, but having you in my arms, loving you is the best thing that can ever happen to me. Each time i see you, sweetheart, i can still feel the rapid beat of my heart or the way my breath hitches, just from the sight of you. Each morning that i wake up with you by my side, and you’re still asleep, i’m given the gift of just staring at you for hours till you wake up and smile with that cute smile of yours. Every day that i see you, my day is made. I could stare and stare and stare for hours and still wouldn’t be able to find ugliness on your face nor your body. Cause you’re all beautiful, baby—from the inside out.”

Stunned, once again the room was engulfed by silence, as tears were now freely falling down your face. Peter was sweet, all the time; complimenting you, touching you, comforting you.

But this was different; this was peter confessing, his love, his adorance.

Looking at your tear-stained face, peter took a hold of your cheek in one hand; wiping away the wetness, softly murmuring “you’re my beautiful girl”.

not proofread!

[foreingersgod]

need need need something about Caitlin being obsessed with her girlfriend and talking about her non stop in interviews, insta ect

Obsessed . CC

pairing: caitlin clark x reader

synopsis: caitlin always finds a way to talk about you

A/N: NOT PROOF READ

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

1. interviews

it was the end of an amazing game, not just for iowa, but especially for caitlin. she hadn’t played a game that well in her entire career, scoring more than her average and making shots from deeper than ever before. she had everyone on their feet the entire night cheering for her as she completely annihilated the other team.

you were there to watch her, as you were every other game. watching caitlin play had to be one of your favorite, most rewarding things to watch as a girlfriend. she’s worked for hard for long and she was finally getting the recognition she deserves.

after the post-game excitement had worn off, the team prepared for the following interviews. typically, you didn’t stick around for them, opting to head home and wait for caitlin so you could congratulate her in your own special way. but with such an amazing game for caitlin, you decided to stick around and watch.

it was like she was a natural, surrounded by all the microphones and flashing cameras. she looked proud and confident, ready for any and all questions. they asked her the usual questions and she answered assertively. but one particular question caught your attention.

“the effort you’ve put into basketball has been apparent throughout your career, but your fans want to know more. who do you credit for keeping you so motivated and successful off the court?”

she bit back a smile, lip tugged between her teeth as she listened to the interviewer. caitlin looked out into the sea of people, eyes finding yours somewhere in the back before answering.

“yea, no there’s a lot of people i could think of that have been absolutely incredible,” she said “you know obviously my parents and bothers, my teammates and friends. they’ve all been really supportive of me. but i do also want to credit my girlfriend, YN. i mean she’s been there for me day after day, she’s really the reason i’m able to keep going and i definitely wouldn’t be where i’m at now if it weren’t for her. so yea, i have a truly amazing support group behind me, it’s wild.”

you couldn’t help but blush hearing her mention your name up there. she was so sweet and so modest when it came to things like this and she always made sure you knew how much she really needed you.

after the interview, she came up to you, sweaty and exhausted. a big goofy grin still glued to her face as she gravitated into you.

“i love you so much” she said to you “i meant what i said in there, i really don’t know what i’d do without you”

you pulled her into you tighter, so close you could feel her pulse as your lips met the back of her ear.

“i love you more”

2. social media

caitlin posted you on a regular basis at this point (and you posted her just as much). she was so whipped, always posting photos of you to her instagram to show you off.

caitlinclark22

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caitlinclark22 obsessed with you @its.yn

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its.yn baby :’)

⤷ caitlinclark22 it’s true <3

gabbie.marshall my moms actually

ur.sister the cutest couple everrrr

user7838 brb crying right now

caitandynfan PARENTS

katemartin03 this is making me tear up i’ll be honest

⤷ its.yn stawppp

caitlinclark22

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caitlinclark22 i’m in love with you in every universe, happy anniversary @its.yn

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its.yn i’m actually so in love with you it’s insane

bueckersgirl52 this is the cutest thing i’ve ever seen

jadagyamfi soulmates fr

ynsbiggestfan i love them guys omg

3. around your friends

she honestly didn’t even know she did it because if she did, it would be way worse. the amount of times you got brought up in conversation was starting to get a bit ridiculous. yours and caitlin’s friends love the both of you, thought you were perfect for each other, but if they had to hear ‘YN said’ or ‘you know what happened with YN the other day?’ one. more. time. they were gonna lose it.

caitlin just loved talking about you. she spent every waking moment with you anyways so it was especially hard to not bring up in some sort of way. she really couldn’t care if her friends got sick of it or not.

“hey caitlin” kate asked as the team sat around the living room of your apartment. caitlin had invited the girls over to chill for the night, catch up without the weight of basketball hanging over their shoulders “i had meant to ask how that new restaurant downtown was?”

“oh man it was awesome” she responded “if you get the chance, definitely go. the food was incredible, you know me and YN actually wen-”

“caitlin i love you, but i swear to god please spare us from whatever mushy gushy relationship stuff you’re about to tell us” hannah chimed in from the seat next to caitlin. the girls laughed, glad she spoke up before caitlin began rambling about you again.

“whatever, you guys are just jealous” she rolled her eyes, playfully shoving hannah’s shoulder.

she didn’t mind how the team grew tired of her rambling, she probably would be too if she were them. but you were the soul thing that occupied her mind and she wouldn’t give that up for anything.

[katswifey]

K. Bakugo x !afab reader! His s/o with a small chest. 🍒

Genre: Fluff + Slight nsfw mention + comfort ♡

Katsuki honestly never really noticed nor really cared about the size of your chest. He’s always been looking for someone with the same attitude as him. Someone who’s strong and pretty independent. But regardless he loves you for you! No questions asked. If he sees you being insecure about the size difference out of every other girl in class, you are in for a lecture..

“Y/n, you are so dumb. I don’t care what size your chest is. So stop whining about it.”

He’d huff at the end of these conversations more often than usual. But a lot of the time you’d find a reason to still be upset. (me fr)

“Katsuki, you don’t get it. Every girl in our class has these big boobs and it just makes me wonder if I’m even remotely attractive.”

Tears stained on your face. He’d sigh and pull you into a tight forceful hug.

“Your body is the last thing I’m worried about. All I want in a partner is you, regardless if you have a hot body or not. To me, your body is perfect anyways. lemme tell you right now. You are perfect Y/n, don’t let these thoughts or useless other people make you think otherwise, got it?”

As you hug him, you silently cry into his shirt and eventually look up at him and nod.

“I love your tits the way they are. I love everything about you, that’s a fact. No one should have an opinion anyways, and if they do the only opinion that matters is mine. I love the way they feel and look when I have my way with you.”

While blushing, you start to feel better overall. You still aren’t completely confident about your chest, but hearing what he had to say made you think so much more less bad about yourself.

“Thanks Kat, I’m sorry. I wish I was more comfortable and confident in my own skin but, it’ll get better I’m sure. I’m glad though you love me, for being me. I guess being less visually attractive has its own special benefits.”

You smiled feeling better, pulling away from his embrace wiping away tears. He nodded and kissed you on the lips.

“Mhm, I know I’m not the best with words or whatever. But I mean what I say you know. Even if it’s harsh or not. You the prettiest girl I’ve ever met.”

You looked at him with pure awe and just wanted to smother him with your unconditional love and affection. You dragged him to his dorm and you got into some pajamas, basically just short shorts and a baggy t-shirt of Katsuki. Both of you cuddled til the lights were out and both you were sound asleep.

———-

A/n: AAAAHH!!! First actual post!!!!! Feel free to leave me suggestions!!! This was super fun and I love to write!!! Give me some good scenarios!! 

[firemenenthusiast]

—“to love”

farleigh start x reader

summary: asking farleigh to let you go if loving you isn’t worth it

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, swearing, fluff

a/n: i couldn’t decide between angst and fluff and i haven’t posted fluff for a while so yall getting BOTH. also sorry if this is kinda boring and cheesy and dramatic (me fr) 😞✌🏻

the sound of water drops drumming against the window fills your ear, tapping away at each droplets of the pouring rain, taking you away from the realisation that it’s been raining since the sun slipped off the horizon. it must be cold outside, you imagine, with the loud heavy rain and thunders.

must be the complete contrast of how warm it is inside, especially the room you and farleigh share in this mansion given that you always kept the temperature toasty. farleigh always fussed about it too, saying that it’s too warm for him and insisted that if you’re gonna keep it that way, he’s gonna have to be shirtless in the room. wiping away another stray tear rolling down your right cheek, your lips curl in a quiver as you shut your eyes.

it’s almost hysterical how even in a space that warm and cozy, having yourself all wrapped up in his blanket and sitting by the window, you still feel all alone. you don’t get it. you have all these people around you, well, all the people downstairs partying away because it’s felix’s early Christmas party yet you still feeling left behind.

farleigh’s downstairs too, you believe he’s doing all the things he usually does when he’s in the party mood. maybe by now he’s already had too much to drink for, or he’s plopped down against the couch and counting the stars dancing around at the ceiling.

normally you would be snuggling by his side, holding his firm arm close to your body so some of his warmth could radiate against your skin, but it’s been months since you and farleigh had that kind of time together. now, it’s just routine quick kisses on the top of your head, before he’s out again to catch a smoke by the courtyard and disappearing all day long, even with you in the house.

feeling all the pent up confusion, mellow and slight anger settling down, you can’t help the small hiccups escaping your lips as your shoulders jerk at every sob. you can hear the muffled music from downstairs, and sounds of people cheering for whatever reason you could easily guess at. they’re typical, you would say, but what’s not typical is the distance you feel with farleigh, and how his behaviour as of late makes you feel worthless, and that the spark you felt when you first started dating has gone into a mere strike.

you know you should’ve just told him how you’re feeling. you know you could’ve just said that you hate the way he doesn’t kiss you anymore. you miss the feeling of his lips against yours, his soft ones cradling your lips that is enough to make you melt into the moment because farleigh is such a good kisser. you know how they say to communicate, but you wish it was that fucking easy.

because you hate having to beg for affection. you hate having to tell someone to love you, you hate having to teach someone that you desperately love to no end, how to love you properly. if you were really worth it, you wouldn’t have to do all that, would you ? if farleigh really loved you like you love him, he wouldn’t make you feel like this, all disregarded and unimportant. truth is, you almost made yourself believe that the relationship is a dead end, and that he’s gonna break the news to you anytime now. what’s the point anyways ? it’s not like he cares, does he ? he certainly didn’t when he left you feeling the worst after getting back your test marks and it was so awful that you cried. all he said was, and you quote, “just a test” before leaving you to go tanning with felix when he knew you studied all night long for weeks. he knew, because he was there, watching you flip through your notes desperately.

as you sit looking out through the window, your eyes trailing the fragile looking droplets of rainfall down the pane, drinking in your sobs that were frantic a few moments ago. you’ve spent the past couple of months just smiling away and comforting yourself that maybe he was just tired, and that he wasn’t feeling like wrapping his arms around you when you needed him the most. yet deep down, you know that it wasn’t supposed to be like that. he shouldn’t get to pick and choose just whenever the fuck he feels like having a relationship.

at this point you’ve made yourself believe that farleigh only keeps you around for the sake of having a girlfriend. you don’t think he wants to be a boyfriend alongside of that, nor he cares that he’s made you feel worthless with the fact that he hasn’t kissed you on the lips for weeks now. not sure if he even realises that, having made himself busy with all the cigarette breaks and hanging out with the group. sometimes you think that he goes on all that cigarette breaks just to get away from you. it’s funny because it’s not like you couldn’t stand the smoke, if anything you don’t care if he does it around you at all, as long as you get to be with him.

leaning deeper into the farleigh-scented blanket, the fuzzy material hugs you nicely making you feel a little comforted. you could hear the knob turning before the creaking of the old hinge of the door screeches your ear. quickly wiping the tears almost dripping off your chin, you suck in a shaky breath, bumpy from the sobs and the huge lump in your throat.

“hey babe, i didn’t see you downstairs. how long have you been here ?”

of course he didn’t even realise that you were never downstairs. eventually you get sick of the annoying music and lingering smell of alcohol on everyone. you hated how reckless everyone would be, just bumping against each other that sometimes someone gets pushed to the ground. you know because last time it had happened to you, and farleigh was nowhere to be found. he was probably doing a line at the corner of the room with his other friends but hey, at least he’s not cheating right ?

blinking away your tears, you could feel your eyes are already puffy from how much you were crying. the sniffles caught his attention, halting his movements on taking off his santa hat as he settles it down on the nightstand before carefully walking towards you.

“hey— hey, what’s wrong ?”

the huge flat of his palm finds its way against your back, slowly caressing the skin through your sweatshirt as he struggles to meet your eyes.

“baby,, c’mon—look at me, hey”

his deep voice soft, but nothing’s new as farleigh had never raised his voice at you, or yelled at you. he was always so sweet when talking to you, so when he started becoming so distant, of course you’d feel it.

slowly pulling your body into his embrace, his arms wrapping around your shoulder as you lean your head against his chest. the warmth radiating off his skin spreads across your body as the both of you just sit there, sheltering against each other’s body, seeking comfort and reassurance.

“what’s wrong ?” he’d ask for the second time, holding your jaw in his hands with his fingers cupped along your cheeks. his thumb caresses the soft skin of your tear stained cheeks before looking deep into your eyes, his beautiful brown hues piercing into your orbs.

you’re still silent, knowing that if you were to tell him all the doubts in your heart that you have of him, you’d just burst into tears again. instead, you just give him your biggest smile, praying that it doesn’t look so forced and that you’re about to cry again in his arms.

farleigh can’t help his own smile at seeing your cute face squished into his large hands, though it pains him seeing you like this. it physically pains him looking at you so broken, the puffiness of your eyes tells him that you’ve been crying a lot, yet he knows nothing of it, or the reason why. when he asks you again, coaxing an answer from you, you’d just shake your head.

“you know you can tell me anything, you’re my girlfriend” he coaxes, smoothing his palms down your hair, cradling your whole head in his hands

hearing the title he just called you jerks a new stream of tears down your cheeks almost immediately, as you shut your eyes and softly sob into his hands. seeing your reaction worries him, making him desperately pull you closer into his arms, trying to shield you from anything that may be fear in your eyes, and just protect you from being hurt, ever.

“just say it, farleigh” you manage to sob out, quirking his eyebrows into visible confusion.

“say ? say what ?” pulling away slightly to look at your face, your eyes busy counting the stray threads poking out the blanket

“— that you don’t love me anymore” letting out the words softly, you realise that you sounded so insecure and it’s just going to make him mad. but you know what you’ve been feeling, and it’s not you being insecure.

farleigh couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth as they leave him speechless. slowly pulling his arms away from you, he looks at you to try to find an explanation.

“what the fu— what are you talking about ?” it was ridiculous, what you just said. he hopes that there’s a better explanation for it seeing that your lips are quivering and you’re looking at him with knitted brows.

“all the cigarette breaks, leaving me in the middle of the night to go sleep on the couch, hanging out with felix all the time when im literally right in front of you, do you think im stupid—?“

“what— he’s my cousin !” he retaliates, thick eyebrows furrowed at your reasoning, thinking that it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard.

“and im your girlfriend, farleigh. i don’t even wanna talk about how i was never downstairs tonight and you didn’t care enough to even realise !”

“you’re being absurd, there was a shitload of people” he’s leaning back against his heels, moving further from you as he looks at you in disbelief.

“i guess you don’t even care that we haven’t kissed in weeks”

your last words leaves him dumbfounded, having realised that he hasn’t felt the soft lips he’s so obsessed with on his for weeks now. it started for a couple of days when he was busy and overall just dealing with his own mental issues but only now had he realised that it’s been weeks. taking a few steps back, he’s now fully on his feet, with his arms crossed before moving a hand to rest on his jaw.

“you don’t have to love me if you don’t want to, farleigh” you mutter out softly, the volume only enough to register in his ears

you hear him scoff at the words as you turn to look at him, pacing around at the edge of the bed before snapping his head towards you

“i can’t believe this” you hear him mutter under his breath before tilting his head towards you

“you know, i try— sooo fucking hard to love you-“ he cocks his head to the side, eyes squinting in your direction. if you want to argue on the love in this relationship, he’s been meaning to fight back.

“i care so deeply about you, i pushed away my own issues, i struggle with my own being, those voices in my head—“ you’re looking at him, your whole body tense as you blink away the tears clinging onto your lashes

“all just so i can be with you, all so i can keep you safe with me, even if it means that im fucked up in the head—“

“farleigh—“

“i don’t know how do you want me to love you, because the only love i’ve ever felt was from my mom. even that they take away from me—“

“so i try, so fucking hard to love you, as best as i could. so for you to imply that it’s not enough—“ he scoffs once again, a pained laugh threatens to blow out of his mouth. looking up at him, his face contorts in what you could make out to be disappointment. or even disgust, with the way his lips bend into a frown. scanning your eyes across his sharp features, you wished you could take it all back so you wouldn’t have to see him looking at you like that. it isn’t hatred, or is it ? but you’d imagine how you’re pushing him through his limits.

“— that’s just fucking selfish. i don’t know what else do you want from me”

just as you’re about to open your mouth to say something, a loud thunder booms through the clouds, tearing the peace from the whole estate. the eardrums shattering sound horrifies the fear you have of thunder that you can’t help the scream piercing out of your mouth. you’re clutching tight at the material of the blanket, your head throbbing from the loud noise of the following rumbles from outside, the flashing of lightning accompanying the thunder that almost rips your heart of your chest, if it wasn’t already being ripped out by your cries.

immediately as he sees the flashing light before the thunder, like a natural reflex farleigh practically throws himself over to quickly wrap his arms around you and pull you into him. he knows how bad thunder fucks with your nerves and how much you hated being alone when there’s thunders outside. rubbing his hand against your arms, smoothing over your sweater, you hear him hush softly on top of your head as he pulls you closer to his chest by the side of your head.

he rests his chin against your hair while he gazes through the window. amidst all the chaos of the loud booming noises and car alarms going off outside, you found yourself fisting at his knitted sweater, clutching your fingers, in an attempt to be as close to him as possible, to feel safe. after all farleigh’s still your safe place. it’s not like you ever want to seek home in anybody else.

“im sorry” just as you hear him say these words you softly push him away to tilt your head towards his face. all those things he said, makes you feel like a shitty person. maybe you’re the one who didn’t care enough to see what he’s going through. maybe he’s right, you are selfish.

“why, um-“ you begin with a coarse voice, the lump in your throat still clinging onto the walls before you clear it

“why didn’t you say anything ?—“ moving your head to follow his eyes, the glossy brown pair struggling to look into yours.

“—do i not listen to you ever, farleigh ?” you struggle to find the right question for him, having no understanding for why he feels like he couldn’t say anything and instead, just left you hanging all these while.

he’s silent, eyebrows knitted as he looks up at you with a tear rolling down his cheek. the corners of his eyes red, he’s been struggling not to cry since you brought up the issue.

a shallow regret claws at the walls of your insides when you look at him, with tears down his pretty face. moving to sit on your heels, you peel the blanket off your shoulders to pull him into the warmth, both of you sitting underneath the fuzzy material

“im sorry“ the only same words he manages to let out, again

“farleigh i should’ve-“ just as you open your mouth he cuts you off

“no—”

“—im sorry that you feel like i don’t love you anymore” it’s only when he says this does he look into your eyes, his hands moving over your face to move the strands covering your eyes away.

“because i love you, so fucking much—“ farleigh inches over, hovering his forehead over yours that the tip of your noses bump into each other. you can feel his hot breath fanning against your skin, as he smooths his thumbs over your jaw, catching the stray tear falling over your waterline.

“all those stuff you said,, fuck i didn’t know it was fucked up—“

“im sorry i made you feel like that. i didn’t wanna drag you along with me. i didn’t wanna make you feel unsafe” his words pain you, knowing that he kept everything that was wrong to himself. somehow it angers you, the fact that he feels like he couldn’t come to you. does he think that you were gonna leave him if he did ?

“you know you can tell me anything, farleigh—“

“i know, i just,,” as he searches for words, a hiccup makes his shoulders jerk.

“i was afraid that-“ trailing his words off his lips, he tilts his head to suck in a deep breath, his shoulders shaky as you search into his tear stained face. you offer him the softest look you could give, letting him know that if you’re gonna be here until the sun comes up just talking, so be it.

“i didn’t want you to leave— i thought,, i thought if i ever said anything, you’d think im weak” his lips quiver as he utter the last of his words before a single tear spills over down his cheek. his hand reaches up to wipe over his nose, his slender fingers almost covering the entirety of his face.

you know how bad farleigh struggles with the way the cattons treat him, and how they always disregard it all if he even dare to bring it up. everyone seems to think they’re this untouchable perfectly wealthy family but you know how small farleigh feels sitting among them. if anyone spends as much time around them and farleigh, they’d also see how they’re treating him like an outsider while desperately trying to make him feel like family. but you didn’t know it was getting to him this badly. you didn’t know it fucks with him to the point that ut gets this bad. you could just imagine how hard he tried to conceal his own insecurities while having you around, trying to make you believe that everything was fine.

“i thought if i just kept quiet you wouldn’t notice” farleigh pushed his words out from the strings of sobs restraining him to speak as he finally breaks down from all the blocks of boulder that keeps being dropped on him, weighing him down

“im sorry—” now it’s your turn to say these two words to him, pulling him down towards you into a hug, your fingers sprawled out across his back, letting him rest his head in the crook of your neck as he cries.

“—im sorry that im too selfish to notice” you cant help but sob out into his shoulder, your hands pulling at the fabric on his back. he’s crummed up into you, as the both of you just sat there by the window, listening to the sounds of water droplets tapping at the glass.

as he pulls away, he moves so he could look into your eyes, your fingers cupping his jaw as it’s your turn to wipe his cheeks with your thumbs. trailing your eyes over each of his features, taking in every details on his face, from his long lashes to his tiny freckles. closing in the mere inches in between you, you place your lips against his delicately, kissing at his bottom lips. farleigh closes his eyes as he returns the kiss, soft and gentle, as you slowly move in a rhythm. it’s been so long since he last kissed you, and he’d only realise how much he misses sharing your warmths in a kiss, how much he misses just kissing away all the doubts you have deep within.

when you slowly pull away you feel his hands gripping on your waist as he moves forward to catch your lips again, into another kiss. he feels like it wasn’t enough for him, he wanted to stay like this forever if he could. caressing his jaw, you lean back into the kiss as you hear him hum and continue to move his lips against yours as if he never stopped kissing you since your first kiss.

pushing him away by his chest, you had to take a breath as soft giggles leave your lips looking at his swollen ones. both from crying, and also kissing you like he hasn’t for years. he can’t help but let out a few chuckles too, your pained smile radiates warmth off his heart, melting it all over again.

“teach me how to love you properly” he starts, pulling at the blanket to peel it off of him and placing it around you again.

knowing that farleigh barely ever felt love from his own family, let alone be shown how it actually is to be loved, it’s only logical that the things he did for you, and the love he showed you, was the only thing he knew of love. and to compare to the scraps he receives in this house, the love that farleigh has ever showed you was everything in this world for him, and probably beyond the kind of love he could ever imagined.

“i will”

you promise, as you’re willing to fix this over and over again knowing that you’d also be fixing him, who’s been broken since the day he was born. if anyone else leaves when the only thing he seeks for is love, let you be his shelter.

taglist: @flipsconhelado @r4vn @love-me-pls @radioloom @farleighlover @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @luckystrikerealness @juniperhasfallen @themoonchildwhofell @khxna @inglourious-imagines @aracade

[sweet-as-an-angel]

cuddling with könig hcs?? maybe he’s super exhausted and just wants to be held by reader and be in their presence 🥺

Modern Warfare 2 Cuddling Headcanons

Warnings: No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’, Just a whole lot of fluff ☹️ <3, Mild Hurt/Comfort, CUDDLING !1!!1, Snuggling, Extremely Vague Implications of Ghost’s Past, Minor Mentions of Death, Vague Implications of Smut, Mention of a Boner (Brief), Nothing Explicit in this Post.

Ghost

He’s very secretive when letting you know he wants to be held.

It’s as if he’s ashamed to admit it, to you, to himself – as if the habits he’d picked up as a child, to hide his intentions, his feelings, had followed him into adulthood.

They had, make no mistake. But the fact that they followed him into his relationship with you made things… difficult at times.

Nevertheless, when he sidled up behind you, his body heavy, shoulders slumped and arms encompassing your form, you read him like a cave drawing: plain to see, easier to interpret.

You’d swaddle him in your arms, your duvets, your love, and in turn he’d cage you with his limbs, his body, his strength.

In a way, he was your coffin; your final resting place in life and the hereafter, and he let you know as much with the cushioning of his muscles beneath his shirt, the silken padding of your bed of eternal rest.

You’re not going anywhere is what he said, all without saying it.

And you affirmed as much when you pressed the tip of your nose to the pulsepoint below his jaw, gifting a kiss to the skin beneath it.

“I’ll always be with you, Simon; for infinity plus one,” you’d tell him, over and over, as many times as he wanted – needed – to hear it.

Simon would look down at you, his eyes dark and filled with nothing but the need for you.

He’d pull you into his chest, where you’d hear his heart pounding, hammering, the scaffolding of his love, constantly growing, advancing. Heightening.

“I know, Angel,” he says, laying circles into your back. “And I’ll always be here to protect you. Just as you have me.” He takes a deep breath, filling himself with your scent. “For infinity plus two.”

König

Oh, THIS–

Absolute behemoth of a man is babey for cuddles.

Fr though, he’ll just be so mentally, emotionally, and physically exhausted that the only thing that can heal him is your loving touch.

He’ll literally stand half-hidden behind the doorway like that buff teddy bear meme, looking at you with wide, pleading eyes with his hands like 👉👈.

Poor guy looks like he’s on the verge of tears.

He’s not, don’t worry! That’s just the fatigue catching up with him.

And whenever he gives you those eyes, you just can’t say no.

You bring him to bed and wrap him up in your softest, warmest blankets.

You have found König wrapped up in your clothes, your towels, your curtains many times before. And, after he caught you catching him, he admitted that he did it because they smelled like you.

From then on, you have a special, secret blanket just for König which you douse in your signature scent once every few weeks or so, keeping it hidden in a cupboard where it can’t be found by any other smell or person.

And you drape it over König, making sure he’s safe and snuggled and secure before you cuddle up to him, consumed by a mass of blankets and, of course, your boyfriend.

And he just rests there, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you so close to him that you could very well be the same person.

He’s massive, he’s radiating heat constantly, encompassing you in himself.

He tries burying you inside him, it seems, keeping you so close to him as though he knew something – knew he was going to lose you somehow.

And all the while, you’re threading your fingers through his hair, petting it, stroking it, telling him how loved he is, how you’ll always be here for him, and how lucky you are to have him. Calling him your “Big boy. My big, sweet boy,”

His chest purrs, his grip around you tightens, braiding your souls together with the golden hair of a wedding band.

And, his face buried in your hair, taking in the lifeline that is your scent, König whispers, to you, and to no-one else:

“Not as fortunate as I, my Love.”

Alejandro

Unlike Ghost and König, Alejandro tells you when he wants cuddles.

Unless he’s feeling particularly raw or traumatised, what with his profession and all, in which case he’ll put his hand atop yours and squeeze it, tightly, while facing ahead, not looking at you.

Those requests for cuddles are few and far between, but they usually lead to an evening spent entirely in Alejandro’s arms as he slowly, tricklingly, reveals what has damaged him so.

And you listen, and listen, and listen, one hand carding through his hair, the other holding his shaking shoulders, soothing him with your massages.

His head always rests on your chest, and, occasionally, he’ll bear his face into your shirt, pressing his confessions into the fabric.

“Oh, Darling,” you tell him, every time. “You do everything you can, you save lives every day – including mine.”

He pulls away, looks up into your eyes with dark glass irises and, every time, cups your cheek with his hand.

“And I always will, mi Amor,” he tells you. His kiss lands on your lips, and another confession slips out as he pulls away, his forehead resting against your chin.

“No matter the cost, no matter the toll, I will always find you. I will always save you, just as you saved me.”

Soap

Snuggles with Johnny usually end up culminating in…something else.

His sunny disposition, even after a heavy mission away, belies that which haunts him – that which he tries to suppress.

On the rare occasion that he’s not in high spirits, he’ll be very quiet, hardly talking at all as he merely exists around you, his warmth and humour devoid from his body.

And you seek him out, placing your head upon his shoulder and asking, in the slightest of voices: “Do you need me?”

He does.

He needs you more than anything else – anyone else.

You drape him with your body, slipping your arms around his shoulders and pulling his face into the crook of your neck. His breath, his stubble, tickles your skin.

You latch onto him, tumourous in your resolve yet anything but malignant in your aim.

You want to bury your love in his veins, let him feel how he makes you feel, and become that for him.

He always sighs into your shoulder, your neck, and takes a second before he’ll encapsulate you in his arms, keeping you in his lap and tethering you to him by the bottom of your back.

You chant your reassurances, whispering them into his ear – a sleeper agent’s trigger words; a message to bring forth the soldier from within.

“You did so well, Johnny,” you tell him, meaning every word. “There’s no sum of money in all the universe that can compensate for all that you’ve done.”

You feel Johnny twitch, a precursor to something familiar to you. You hold him tighter, pull him closer. He stuffs his face further into the material of your shirt.

“But…” The word is a dagger between the folds of your heart. You can only imagine how it feels lodged in Johnny’s mind. A lifelong migraine.

“But what if I’d gotten there sooner?” His voice cracks. You feel his shoulders shake. You try to stabilise him, to keep him from quivering by encompassing more of his broad frame.

“You couldn’t have known, John-John; I promise you that.”

Your word was gospel in this house; whatever you said, Johnny believed.

“And even if by some sort of miracle you had gotten there earlier,” you pull back, Johnny reluctantly following in your example, and take his face in your hands. You wipe a tear away with your thumb.

“You probably wouldn’t have been able to return.”

The prospect made your heart jump up into your throat, much as you could see it stir something in Johnny.

He nestles further into you.

“And what would I do without my favourite soldier?”

You feel Johnny sigh, his body untensing, sinking into yours.

“The real question is what would I do without you?” His voice is gruff, easing off into what you recognise as exhaustion.

You rubbed his back, pressed a kiss to the crook of his neck.

“We’ll never know,” you told him, smiling. You feel his cheek shift against your skin and you knew he was smiling, too.

“Let’s get you to bed. You deserve a rest.”

“Oh?” says Johnny. “Is that all?”

“Oh, behave,” you give him a chuckle, a light pat - a lacklustre attempt at a smack.

Like I said, cuddles with Johnny usually end up as something more.

Price

Absolute bear of a man in both disposition and habit.

Practically holds you hostage when you cuddle with how he has a log of a leg hooked over your waist, his arms pulling you so close to his chest that you may well be the shirt he’s wearing.

Loves whispering in your ear when you’re like this – tells you how much he loves you, how you make everything feel okay when he comes home from a mission; all the wonderful things he thinks of you, he tells you.

He knows life’s far too short to let certain things go unsaid, and his undying love for you is one of them.

Whenever he’s feeling exhausted or just done with it all, he comes up behind you and wraps his arms across your front from behind, pressing a long, humming kiss to the back of your head.

“I need you, Love,” he’ll say, voice laced with the primal need to just rest. And he can’t do that if you’re not with him.

He has a sensitive scalp, which is why he always wears the hat when he’s on missions. When he’s alone with you, however, he bids you a silent request to touch him, feel him, care for him.

And you do; you rest his head upon your chest and slip silken fingers between his short strands, making sure to drag your nails up the nape of his neck and send shivers through him.

He adores falling asleep on you like this, though he will apologise for it after, knowing how much heavier he is than you.

But you never complain, only indulge him as he subjects himself to this heaven-sent cycle again and again.

He calls you his “angel”, his “master’s masterpiece.” (nice Duchess of Malfi reference for my fellow literature enjoyers)

And he truly believes it – that you are the work of some higher being, too perfect for the likes of this world, of him.

You always tell him how lucky you are to have found him, half jestful as you reassure him how “Eternal life would simply be survival, not living, if it is without you, my Love.”

Gaz

Has to be facing you whenever you cuddle.

This is not up for negotiation.

Will stare into your eyes like 🥺 whenever you’re snuggling.

He LOVES holding your hands; he brings them to his chest and presses the flat of your palms to his skin.

And when you hear his heart beating, he gives a shy smile and says: “This heart beats only for you.”

“So…what you’re saying is that you’re dead all the time except for when you’re with me?”

“...That’s… a little less romantic than my ‘I’m only alive when I’m with you’ line, but yeah, you’re right.”

Initiates cuddles 99.99% of the time, only because he won’t let you have the chance to initiate them first.

Beats you to it every single time.

Most of the time when he initiates, he’s rather playful and just wants to feel you near him and tell you what he did today :-).

But sometimes, very occasionally, he’ll come to you, a wounded puppy of a man, with a story.

It is one with no happy ending, only a wish for reprievement.

Whenever and wherever Gaz needs you, you’re there, soaking up his anxieties as your own and trying to find a solution.

You usually just let him talk until he’s tired himself out or there’s nothing left to say, upon which you offer yourself and every conceivable way you could be of service.

You try to heal him however you can, bringing him food, making sure he rests, talking him through his feeling whenever he wants.

“I don’t know how you do it, Love,” he tells you, head lolling against the backrest of the sofa. “I don’t know how you’re always so calm, so collected,”

You offer him a smile and a plate of warm, freshly-baked biscuits.

“Time and practice, my Dear,” you tell him.

He feels bad for putting on you, but you always chase his worries away, reassuring him that the day you stop listening to him is the day you’ve been replaced with a robot.

When you cuddle and he’s feeling vulnerable, he’ll tuck his head into your chest, and you wrap him up in a blanket, blocking out the light – any form of external stimulation – to help him calm down or drift off to sleep.

He genuinely doesn’t know what he’d do without you.

And he tells you as much when he wakes up in your arms.

He presses butterfly kisses to your jaw until your eyes flutter open like wings.

He doesn’t even say ‘good morning’; he wastes no time when it comes to you.

“I love you, (Y/N),” he says. He squeezes you. “I don’t want to be without you – not like I used to be,”

And you smile at him, like you always do, and lean in, planting a kiss between his eyes, the top of the bridge of his nose.

“Neither do I, Love,” you say. “And you never will be.”

Valeria

Always the big spoon.

Regardless of how she’s feeling, how tall you are, what time of the day it is, she is always going to be the one administering the cuddles.

She uses you as something of a stress ball when she’s feeling antsy, anxious, or even fearful.

It’s extremely rare for her to verbalise her feelings - particularly the negative ones, the ones she perceives as ‘weakness’.

But she has placed all her trust in you; something people have died trying to take and protect.

Whenever she’s stressed, you can feel it in how rigid her shoulders are, how tightly she wraps herself around you, how her heart pounds against your back.

You never draw attention to it – you know how sensitive Valeria gets about her feelings, trying to hide them constantly, so you just hold her hands in yours, against your chest, drawing circles against her knuckles and her veins, writing a love story.

“I’ll never let you go, you know,” Valeria says, often enough that it is no longer a cause for concern for you, rather a future upon which you rely, look forward to. And you smile, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand so she can feel it. Her heart stutters.

“I’ll kill anyone who tries to take you from me.”

And she means it.

You know – you can tell in the way she pulls you ever closer, tightly packed together as if confined to the same coffin.

You know her – her lifestyle – will be your downfall, one way or another.

Whether you or she dies first is a mystery, but regardless of the outcome, you know Valeria would sacrifice everything of herself to keep it from becoming so.

You try to turn, but Valeria keeps you facing away.

A moment’s confusion passes, chased away by realisation as you feel Valeria shaking against you, something wet and warm dripping onto the back of your neck.

You cast your eyes down and, gently, bring Valeria’s knuckles back to your lips.

“And what about me?” you say. “What if I leave you? Will you kill me?”

Something crosses Valeria’s eyes, dancing behind them. A relative of hurt, a friend of doubt, a parent of fear.

She turns you onto your back and, bringing a hand to your cheek and cupping it, presses her lips to yours.

It is soft and minimal, lasting a fraction of what it wanted to.

Valeria withdraws, pressing her forehead to yours, her eyes piercing.

“Never.” She says.

And she means it.

Rodolfo

Hold him tight P L E A S E–

He lives for your embrace, and anything you offer him will remain Flex Taped to the back of his mind for the rest of his life.

Especially if you’re consoling him.

Man just wants to feel safe and warm and loved.

His absolute favourite position is when you’re wrapped in each other’s arms, heads upon the other’s shoulder, snuggled so impossibly close that Rodolfo’s blood is practically running through your veins.

Call him your “Sweet lil’ guy” and he’s g o n e.

Melts into your touch and inhales your scent; oxygen to the lungs of a man starved of reprieve.

It’s at times like these when he’s at his most sincere.

Will tell you anything and everything that crosses his mind; his hopes, his dreams, his fears.

And you’re always there to chase away his anxieties and nurture his desire to achieve all that he wants to achieve.

Sometimes, when he pulls away, there are tears in his eyes, glistening.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, mi Vida,” he whispers, as if he’s afraid that the Universe will hear him and take you from him.

You can only smile, feeling the urge to cry choke your throat.

“And you’ll never need to know,” you tell him. “There will never be a day where I won’t be with you–” you kiss the tears running down his cheeks, “whether my body persists in this realm or not.”

Graves

UUUUUUGH

Horny to the MAX

You could be having the most wholesome conversation in the world and Phil will just hit you with the bedroom eyes and a boner and you’ll just look at him like 😑.

Whether or not you oblige him is up to you, but he’ll likely pester you (politely) until you do.

Aside from that, however, Graves doesn’t seem the type to know how to cuddle properly.

You see, there’s an art to the cuddle - it is a craft.

And Graves has only ever had brief encounters with people under the cover of night; flings, one night stands – so he’s never had the pleasure of getting to know someone enough to cuddle them.

So that makes you his first 😃 !!!

Since you have his cuddle virginity in your hands, you’re going to have to ease him into it.

He’ll definitely whine at first – keep saying stuff like “It’s too hot,” or “I’m booored,” but eventually, you’ll find a position for him which he seems to like.

Loves being the little spoon. No argument.

Given how he’s a CEO and has a pretty hectic job, he enjoys a change in position and likes giving you the power (though he’d never frame it as that; he’d just say that he’s being your pillow so you can lean against something as you rest; ever the gentleman he is).

His favourite position is you behind him, your leg wrapped around his waist, keeping him pinned to the bed.

Pleeeease scratch his back for him, he’s really ticklish there and has never been touched so softly before.

If you whisper phrases of affirmation or praise into his ear, he’s dead.

Done for.

Not coming back.

He swears he falls deeper in love with you every time you hold him close.

He’s kind of a switch, so he’s definitely up for being the big spoon on occasion – especially if you’re feeling vulnerable or you want to be protected.

When he thinks you’re asleep, he leans in close to your ear and says something he’s never said to anyone before.

“I love you.”

Unbeknownst to him, you’re awake, trying to contain the excitement bursting from your chest as you resist the urge to turn around and lock him in your embrace, if only to spare him the embarrassment of one of the few times he expresses his emotions being sullied by you breaking his nose with yours as you launch at him for a kiss.

In another cuddle session, maybe a day or two later, you whisper to him: “I love you, too.”

He’ll be mortified, and you may or may not be able to see his face shift from that of a cosy cat to a tiger who’s just inhaled a lemon. Frightened and unsuspecting.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

[oopwoop]

Barbie Movie W/ The Spider-verse Kids

pairings: e!42! & e!1610! Miles Morales, Hobie Brown, Pavitr Prabhakar, Gwen Stacy

warnings: none that i can think of??

BIRTHDAY POST! I saw the Barbie movie for my bday today and had to post something.. it’s been a bit since I have so sorry about that.. enjoy!

e!1610 Miles Morales

more than willing to go see it with you. was downright excited when you asked him to see it with you. when he was younger he definitely played with Barbies with his mom. and in the comics he eventually has a little sister so he totally plays with her too.

pays for everything. uses the money he’s saved up to take you on dates. he wants you to have a good time

definitely cries. doesn’t have to go through the struggles the movie represents but still sympathizes. we love him 🫶

wears pink without you even asking. it’s a movie about Barbie, of course you need to wear pink!

fav song from the movie is Journey To The Real World by Tame Impala

e!42! Miles Morales

very reluctant to see it. claims it’ll just be a movie for little kids. little did he know…

now that you convinced him to go, don’t expect him to wear pink for it. you must be pulling his leg if you think he’s going to wear any sort of pink. yeah.. you got him to wear pink.

you bet your ass he paid for every single thing though. the theatre had cute Barbie cups? he’s getting you one. omg, they have cookies? getting you as many as you want. all of it. you want it, it’s yours.

definitely teared up but refused to admit it. you ask and he’s making up a lie on the spot. yet you know he did

Barbie World by Nicki & Ice Spice ft. Aqua is his song (no one is telling me otherwise)

Pavitr Prabhakar

more excited than you fr. he’s been waiting for this moment since the movie was announced. literally bouncing off walls just waiting

came all decked on in a Barbie themed outfit, it’s not even funny. he’s totally rocking it though

making this the best date of your life fr. you both are super excited, him even more so, so he’s gonna do whatever he can to have a good time.

cried like a baby fs. not ashamed of it either. tears were streaming down his face when the movie ended, face puffy and red. no lie about it.

vibes with Speed Drive by Charli XCX (fav song from the movie)

Gwen Stacy

wanted to see Oppenheimer over Barbie. but she’s willing to see Barbie and then go see Oppenheimer. she’s excited for it, yeah, but not jumping out of her seat for it or anything.

definitely making it a barbieheimer date. she’s gonna wear a pink shirt with a leather jacket, no doubt.

i feel like she’d tear up a bit but no tears would fall. if you ask she wouldn’t deny it but would be very nonchalant about it.

idk why but i just see her much more excited and wanting to see Oppenheimer

i feel like she like Billie Eilish so probably enjoyed What Was I Made For? she teared up when it came on (honestly me too)

Hobie Brown

surprisingly but not surprisingly is the one who said y’all should go. was definitely more excited for Barbie than Oppenheimer. refuses to step foot into a showing of that.

will definitely wear pink. it may not match his whole punk ‘aesthetic’ but he doesn’t believe in consistency. “but pink is a girl color”, nope! he doesn’t listen to that load of bull. colors are just colors, plus he’s always changing colors so what’s it matter to him. he himself turns pink sometimes.

begrudgingly pays for tickets but will not pay for snacks. sneaks them in fs.

doesn’t really cry but does sympathize with what the movie portrays.

doesn’t really have a favorite, though he enjoys most of the songs. he finds I’m Just Ken by Ryan Gosling funny though.

[anachronismstellar]

Another week another post of Airplane vs The System.

No, these are not following an order, my brain is scrambling this as we go lol

This is going to be posted on ao3 as soon as I finish it, I swear, I just- I just wanna finish it before posting so I break my fanfic writer curse orz

God Airplane, pls let me finish this 🧎‍♀️

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy it :D

RIP Mobei-Jun born to be a powerful demon king, forced to play crazy sci-fi pc game 😔

---

The next time Mobei had woken up, he had felt slightly better. At least the headache was gone, and thankfully he could move his arms and legs. He still was encased in a white room, magical cool lights hurting his eyes, as if he were surrounded by fresh fallen snow.

“Welcome, Character_s201,” the voice from the Thing echoed around him, making him jump on his feet, a bit wobbly but ready for an attack. And just like their previous interactions, the Thing paused, waiting for his response, not bothered by the lack of it. “Very well. The parameters of this experiment are: to cross the chamber.”

A door, that he could swear wasn't there before, opened up in front of him showing a long corridor, the same cold lights following all its extension. To his side, a square blinked into existence, as if the writings of a talisman were held afloat in the air, in the center a repetition of what the Thing had said, with a small counter under it, a quarter of an hour time set going down.

Mobei wasn't stupid, and he wasn't about to test what would happen if the number reached zero.

He didn't run, because only fools would run straight to an unknown room. Still each step echoed as if he were walking over thousands of swords, the metallic sound making the hairs at the back of his neck stand up. He kept going, touching the walls from time to time, until he reached the end, a doorless opening exposing a perfect square room with no floor, only another opening on the other side of it, a good distance separating him from his goal. He looked down, only darkness stretching far beyond he could see. Another glance at the instructions showed him that nothing had changed except for the time, ten minutes passed after he was made to leave his previous cell.

He flicked his wrist, grabbing the threads of space, tearing reality apart until a portal appeared next to him. Again, he wouldn't be stupid to try escaping right now, no, the Thing was watching, It had said it was an experiment. So he conceded for now, extending his portal to the other side of the room, crossing it with ease.

“Congratulations, congratulations, congratulations!” the Thing announced as soon his feet touched the floor, the time freezing, the passage closing behind his back. “Important things must be told three times! The first chamber was completed in eleven minutes and fifty seven seconds. Please proceed to the next chamber.”

Mobei looked around, considering his options. What was the point of all this nonsense? What the Thing would gain from making him play such games? Even though curiosity made his throat burn, he refused to ask, instincts telling him that making questions would be playing right into the Thing's hands.

Left with no other choice, he walked. This time the next room was just around the corner, even bigger than before. As soon as he stepped inside, the door slid close, blocking his way back. A few steps ahead there was a wall made of glass, and on the other side of it, laying on a pedestal made of sharp angled metal was a sword, the blade the deepest blue Mobei had ever seen. Frost gathered around it, wisps of smoke curling from its sharp edge, as if it was made of shadows.

He wasn't the type of person to carry a sword, he could make his own from his ice, but he could admire a powerful weapon. Even behind the glass he could feel the cold energy coming from it, a hum in the air that made his teeth ache.

“Welcome, Character_s201, to the second chamber. Experiment parameters are: acquire the sword.”

Once more the voice came from everywhere, startling Mobei enough to make him blink. It was disconcerting to be bossed around by something he couldn't grasp.

Or punch.

And just like before the sign next to him blinked, the time now set to ten minutes. He held back his scoff, better not anger the Thing, but it felt as if It was just playing around, not actually giving him a challenge. With two portals he was in front of the pedestal, hand hovering over the handle, eyes looking up, waiting for another comment. When nothing came he took the sword for himself, the weight of it grounding him, as if confirming that this wasn't a crazy dream.

“Congratulations, congratulations, congratulations, Character_s201! Good things must be told three times!” It cheered on him with fake happiness. “Sword “Tengliu's Fortune” added to your inventory. Second chamber was completed in six minutes and forty nine seconds. Please proceed to the next chamber.”

Mobei-Jun looked around, searching for the next door. Maybe he should go back from where he came? But that made no sense, there was nothing else in that room.

A “ding!” sound rang in his ears, a new door appearing at the back of the room. He hesitated, the grip on the sword tightening up, waiting for an attack. He wouldn't be given a sword if something wasn't about to jump on him.

Then he felt it, the moment the air pressure shifted, the floor under his feet vanishing as the voice cheerfully announced:

“Experiment parameters are: survive.”

Mobei fell.

---

[deathkidz]

MY SWEETHEART | CHOSO KAMO

edging, fingering and teasing? not an actual smut I think he also calls reader princess in this so yeah

just some hc's about sweetheart Choso, made this because of this post. This might not be really good because this is just a lil sum sum fr, but anyways tagging mula because she's crazy for Choso @chosoguapo - ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎

Sweet heart choso ! who's buff and tall, making him look intimidating, but he's quiet and awkward. but once you get to know him he's a sweetheart <3

Sweet heart choso ! who began to develop a crush on you throughout the relationship and decided to tell you about his feelings, and surprisingly you felt the same way.

Sweet heart choso ! who is now your boyfriend and gives you princess treatment 24/7. Taking you out on dates, cooking for you, spoiling you with gifts, and spending his money on you. . what a sweetheart <3

Sweet heart choso ! who litters your neck with hickeys and covers your face with his kisses; praising you, telling you how beautiful you are and how he's the luckiest man in the world.

Sweet heart choso ! Who's quiet and awkward but can easily wreck you.

Sweet heart choso ! who isn't a sweetheart today :( teasing and edging you, his tongue running along your pussy, circling it with slow strokes. He's been doing this for hours and he knows you're getting sick of him.

"You're mean" he replaces his tongue with two of his fingers and thrusted in and out of you, "no? I'm only pleasing my princess" he tilted his head and smirked.

"no you're teasing. . ." you whined, you were overstimulated and just wanted to cum. "so stop and lemme cum. ." You said in a demanding tone, a tone in which he didn't like.

Choso chuckled and shook his head "I was gonna but now that you've said that now I'm not" he moves his fingers inside of you more intense, thrusting them in and out as he rubs your clit with his thumb.

You moaned and regretted what you did."wait no no no no I'm sorry" you cry out, a moan escaping your mouth after. "please Choso. . ." you close your eyes from the pleasure; feeling close.

He felt your body tightening and flexing around him, he knows your close. "Wanna cum?" He whispers.

You eagerly nodded, his fingers continuing to thrust in and out of you. "mmm no. . . not yet" he whispered "not till you ask in a nicer way"

Tears ran down your face, since when was Choso so mean? you were used to getting princess treatment not. . . this.

Not caring, he countined thrusting his fingers at a faster pace; your moans growing louder and louder due to the pleasure. "oh fuck fuck fuck" you threw your head back "please please please" you sob out.

His hand squeezes and pinches your clit between his fingers, alternating between soft, gentle touches and hard squeezes. he leaned close to you, using his other hand to lightly tap your cheek "look at me".

As he requested you opened your eyes and looked at him, your mouth slightly open as you moaned. his eyes wondered your face, then finally locked with yours "wanna cum? you're close so I know you want to" he whispered. "mhm. . . please" you looked at him with watery eyes, "come for me princess" he went over to kiss your neck.

"oh shit" you whined out, your eyes quickly shut as you made a mess on his fingers. Loud moans leaving your mouth along with choso's name. He pulled out his fingers so you could see the mess you made on his fingers "look" while catching your breath you open your eyes and see his fingers being covered in your sticky mess.

Your face quickly heated up but before you could say anything he stuck his two fingers in your mouth "c'mon lick em clean for me" and as he demanded you licked your mess off of his fingers.

He pulled his fingers out of your mouth and gave you a quick kiss on the lips, "want more?" He asked, he knew you wanted more he just wanted to hear you say it yourself.

You slowly nodded "yes.." He smiled and pulled you closer to him "Good" he took off his boxers, exposing his hard dick; pre-cum on his tip. He takes his cock and teases your entrance, running it along the slit as you moan out in anticipation.

"cause im gonna ruin you " he lets out a grunt as he enters you, pushing your legs up close to your chest and stretching you open. "But don't worry cause you'll feel real good princess"

[spdrvyn]

second chance headcanons — MIGUEL O'HARA

SUMMARY: miguel breaks up with you out of concern for your safety, he tries to reassure himself that he did the right thing but he can't help how he yearns for your presence, your warmth, you every single day. how does he deal with it? do you two get back together?

THIS FIC CONTAINS: angst. hurt/comfort. fluff. somewhat suggestive content. pathetic miguel (for my enjoyment and yours). spider-person reader. slightly possessive miguel.

NOTES: i have nothing to say. i was possessed while i wrote this. STREAM PROMISE BY LAUFEY IT POWERED ME THROUGH THIS POST FR!!! also this is kinda long lol

× there is one leading factor as to why i think miguel would break up with you. being that he's so scared of getting comfortable, he doesn't want to overwhelm you, and get overly-attached. × he's grateful for you, he always will be but how long would that last before you'd be snatched from his careful grasp? even if your fates aligned, he was scared of even being open. that the moment he let you know of his deepest insecurities, you'd go running. × keeping a distance was just a habit that was hard to let go off, he did show he loved you but not in the ways that you needed or craved. pure physical affection wasn't enough, the tiniest gestures weren't enough, it wasn't enough. he knew that.

× which lead to the demise of your relationship, it was so utterly painful to watch his words sink in and the tears starting to breach from your waterline. he couldn't bring himself to hug you because how could he be so kind after doing something like that? × he couldn't be vulnerable, he had to be strong. keeping his emotions in check even as you said that you understood and if this is what made him happy then you'd go through with it, that you respected his wishes like the kind soul that you were and soon left. leaving him with an air of regret and yearning. × work isn't easier for him either, and that's normally the first thing on his list of suppressing his emotions. how hard he tried to conceal his shame whenever you two just happened to pass by each other in the halls of the headquarters. × you could see it too, let it not be said that you were oblivious. you had picked up on when miguel was trying to tamp down his feelings during the time of your previous relationship, and it was clear he was still trying to do it now. × if you were being completely honest with yourself, you tried doing the same since miguel was so insistent on shutting himself out, you might as well give it a shot. right? well, not really. each and every time you thought about him and no matter how hard you tried, it would spill out through sobs and long rants to your friends (to their misfortune). × you've learned to be more non-chalant about the break up, acknowledging that you couldn't really do anything about it. however, it didn't stop your heart from beating at a hundred miles an hour whenever you were within an arm's length from miguel. being alone with him certainly didn't make it better.

His voice rung in your head like a chant. Meet me in my office later, meet me in my office later, meet me in my office later. It's like he was haunting you, the sound of your own footsteps not even making it to your ears as you trudged closer and closer to his chambers.

Were you scared? Yes. Absolutely fucking terrified. However, it's not because you feared he was going to scold or yell at you, but because you've haven't been alone with him for a while.

Yes, one-on-one office meetings did happen from time to time but it's been days since your last one with him, and you certainly weren't expecting it to come so soon.

It felt darker than usual when you walked in, the platform that he normally stands on now lowered to it's fullest. You were well familiarized with his lab and it's layout, a lot has changed.

The brewing stations that he was so stern about cleaning now scattered, some stray vials even shattered on the floor. There were papers everywhere, unreadable from the dimness of the room but even from your viewpoint you could see how illegible his handwriting was when he was scribbling down on them.

Before you could observe his workspace any further, he steps down from his platform. Your eyes immediately flickering up, it unsettled you so much. Everything about this was unsettling. His eyes, you knew how to study his expression, a talent you gained from being the only person that Miguel really tolerated, but now? He was completely unreadable, like you didn't recognize him anymore.

Your gaze trails down to his chest, where it rosed and fell a lot faster than it usually did. He seemed erratic almost, you remembered when he'd come home to you in that kind of state and most of the time it would normally end in the bedroom.

Since you don't want to be caught staring at his pecs, you clear your throat and fight to make eye contact with him. "Sorry, what did you need me here for?"

Miguel looks as if he's lost in a trance for a moment, boring his eyes into yours until he snaps out of it and turns his head away - breaking the very uncomfortable exchange of eye contact.

"You got hurt during your last operation." His voice sounded hoarse, more so than usual at least. You really wondered what the hell Miguel was doing before you got in here, you were aware that he took some sort of drug to stabilize his DNA, maybe he hasn't taken his shots yet? You're too scared to ask.

"A lot of people got hurt," You begun to explain, crossing your arms and digging your fingers into your arms as to prevent yourself from stuttering. "I got a gash on my arm, but I went to the infirmary and got it fixed up so it's fine. I'm fine."

There goes that silence. That grating unbearable silence that forces you to hear every pin drop, every whir of a machine, and every distant laugh of yet another obnoxious Spider-person. Everything went quiet which made every other noise so fucking deafening, it irked you.

You wanted him to say something, to do something, to even just breathe a little louder because you knew the moment that he'd make even just a single nose that he'd get your attention right away.

Seems like you prayed a little too hard. He puts a hand on your shoulder and it sends shocks straight to your palpitating heart, he leans in close. Not close enough to have alarms blaring in your head, but he was very close.

"But you got hurt too. That's—" Suddenly, his head drops down and he stares at the floor for a few moments. You get a good view of his messy, dark brown curls before he looks back up again, before letting go of your shoulder. "Nevermind. Get out."

There goes the moment, as per usual. You huff a sigh of relief? Disappointment? You weren't quite sure, processing the emotions you just felt was a job for later, you had more pressing matters to attend to right now.

"Right, I'm sorry." You had no idea what you were apologizing for either, but it felt like you should be sorry.

× little did you know that that wouldn't be the last time you'd say sorry to miguel. you didn't consider yourself to be the most apologetic person, but with most things, miguel seemed to have unlocked that part of you as well.

× sometimes it would be over the smallest, most obscure encounters. like brushing fingers whenever you two reach for the same item in the cafeteria, whenever he drops a pen and you both try to pick it up at the same time.

× it's not like it got any better than that. whenever miguel wanted to meet up with you, this time not about you getting injured during operations (although if you did, it would consume most of the conversation) but even about the most mundane things, the meeting would end with an overwhelming silence that you'd have to break with the same pathetic "i'm sorry".

× miguel didn't know either, he thought he did but lyla has reassured him that it's just the overthinking talking and that he was worrying over it too much. even then, he still felt like it was his fault that you constantly had to apologize to him for reasons unknown. it was so pitiful, he couldn't stand seeing you like that. he'd rather die.

× this bad habit of yours didn't help either of you. every time you apologized to him, every time you looked at him, every time you spoke to him, every time you breathed in his direction, that pit of want in his stomach only continued to grow and that impulsive thought at the back of his head that tells him to just relent and beg for you back continued to grow louder and louder.

× no matter where he went, he'd be reminded of you. you were like a sticker he couldn't peel off, a tattoo that would never fade. he'd find bits and pieces of you in his home, around the city. whether it would be him scrolling past the channels late at night and coming across your favorite show, standing in front of the television in a daze as the memories come back to him before turning it off.

× or your smell would count as well. when he'd be going patrolling through the citys in the day and come across a perfume shop, it's like he has to physically restrain himself from barging inside geared in his suit just because he could smell your scent from the inside. he simply couldn't take it anymore, it's like his senses were going haywire.

× he needed you. he was going to fix this.

Miguel had never looked in the mirror more times in his life than now.

"Come on, Miguel. I'm sure you look fine! See? Look at that cute face," Lyla cooed in mock affection as Miguel scowled at her through the reflection of the mirror. "Not so cute anymore."

He ignored her comments, running his hand through his thick hair in a poor attempt in trying to getit to fall down in a more 'attractive' way (according to Lyla's fashion articles) but it just didn't seem to work. That's the downside of having consistently styled hair, Miguel huffs and rubs the bridge of his nose.

"Do I have everything?" He looks back up as Lyla flickers over to his kitchen counter, scanning the items on it through her careful gaze and heart-shaped sunglasses. Once she's done, she gives him a small thumbs-up. "Donuts and flowers are still here like they were fifteen minutes ago, Miguel."

He hated the fact that he kept checking his presents were going to disappear if he looked away for too long or stopped paying attention, he wasn't going to let his gifts for you slip out of his fingers this time. Not on his watch. Not toda—

"These flowers will wilt if you don't hurry up."

"Fine, fine. Stop rushing me."

With a few clicks of his watch, that same blinding portal opened up in front of him as he hesitantly walked into it. He clutched the flowers and donuts in an iron grip, trying to make sure no flowers flew out of the bouquet and all twelve donuts were still contained in the box.

He stood in the dimly lit hallway of your apartment, doors lining up on each side. The nerves were starting to creep up on him, very clear from the way that the paper that wrapped the bouquet so nicely was now crumpled. He sighed, dejected.

"You're going to do fine, Miguel." Lyla interjected.

"You don't know that," He begins taking very, very small strides towards your apartment door which made Lyla's virtual eyeballs roll to the back of her head. "We both won't know for sure unless you try, besides I sense that I'll be going offline soon."

"You don't have intuition. You're an artificial intelligence."

"You're going to kiss your soon-to-be in five minutes lover with that mouth?" Miguel followed the routine of angrily swatting Lyla away even as he's about to show up to your door, about to pour his whole heart out to you, though it's inevitable. She'll find a way to be witty about something, he'll get mad and tell her to leave, before coming back to grovel. There's a bit of pattern in that, no?

All the anxiety that Miguel has been trying to push down to the dark crevices of his heart were all coming back to him as he raised a shaking finger to ring your doorbell, countless scenarios rushing through his head. What if this was the wrong door? What if you were sleeping and he rudely interrupted you? What if you weren't home? What if you were dead? Oh, he hated that thought.

The door to your apartment swung open to his surprise, and the fingers he had clasped around the flowers soon unclenched when he caught the sight of you.

You were wearing just a shirt, a really big shirt. Which only really meant that it belonged to him, he recalled letting you borrow his clothes if he ever accidentally tore through them in the 'heat' of the moment. Where you'd promise that you'd return it in a week or so, but it never made it's way back to him, and he has grown more than content with that prospect.

He could catch a whiff of your apartment. It reeked of instant ramen packets, and it seemed like you opened more than one. He could catch a peek at the rest of your space as well, it was dimly lit and the TV is paused. The bowl of ramen sat comfortably on the coffee table in front of the couch, there were also a lot of crumpled up tissues littered across the surface which made him assume you were literally just crying.

His suspicions were confirmed when he finally looked at your face. Eyes a little red, slighly puffy, and droplets of water hanging from your chin like you'd just washed your face. Your normally well-kept hair was a mess, and every detail of you in the moment made Miguel's heart drum loudly in his chest.

"Miguel," At last, you spoke. Voice raspier than he remembered it. "You— why are you here? If this is about work then my watch is in my bedroom, I'm sorry if I didn't answer your calls."

Yes, of course because him standing in your doorway with a wonderful bouquet of flowers and your favorite donuts definitely meant that he was here to talk about business. He shook his head, "No, I'm not here for work. Not at all."

He bestowed the gifts to you, and no matter how confused you are right now, you still gladly took them in your hands. The way that you looked up at him was an apology within itself, but you couldn't even manage to whisper the words out because what were you going to apologize for when he brought you all of this?

Oh, god. He was really going to do this, wasn't he?

"Mi sol," He got down on his knees. He got down on his knees, you wanted to gasp but it's like Miguel sucked the words straight out of your body. "I'm so sorry. I really am."

The hundreds of apologies that you dished out over the span of a few weeks could even compare how to raw Miguel's voice sounded right now. It felt so real, so true, and he's barely even said anything yet. You felt terrible that all you could really do in the moment was stare, eyes widened and expression dumbfounded.

"I broke your heart, I hurt you. You poured your heart out to me, talked about your feelings, put your trust in me, and I broke it. You don't have to believe me when I say this, I wouldn't blame you if you didn't, but I was scared, fucking terrified at the thought of you leaving. You were just so perfect, so amazing on the inside and out, and I didn't want to lose that, lose you."

Miguel had no idea what was even coming out of his mouth right now, no rhyme or reason behind his words, but he didn't care. He wanted to turn off his mind for the moment, letting his heart speak for itself like he should have done eons ago.

"But," Shakily, he reached his hand out for yours. You quickly shifted the box of confectionaries to your other hand, letting him hold onto you like you were his lifeline. Like you are his lifeline. "Those are just my reasons, take them as you will. Please trust me when I say that I want to be a better lover, a better person for you. It's all you deserved, and it's all I want to give to you."

He peppers a few small kisses to your knuckles before continuing to speak, "Lo siento, cariño. I know that this is all might sound so— so idiotic, I'm not good with words. I took you for granted and discarded you, and for my ignorance, you can be mad at me for the rest of my life, but I wouldn't be able to live with myself knowing you didn't receive any closure. Even if you don't forgive me, I just wanted to let you know that I truly am sorry. All the logic, all the facts, I'll put them aside for you. You are all that matters to me now."

The whole world went silent as Miguel squeezed his eyes shut, not even his super-human senses could pick up any background noise. You hadn't pulled your hand back yet so he continued to brush his thumb over your knuckes and veins, but he couldn't tell if it's because you were shocked or you were stunned from utter joy.

He feels his heart drop when he hears you whimper.

His eyes fly open, and he looks back up at you. Shit, you were crying again. You were crying again, and it was his fault. Although who was to say that you weren't already crying before he got here?

The hand he wrapped around yours tightened gently in a soothing gesture, but it only seemed to make you sob harder which increased his guilt. Was his apology that bad?

"You are such a liar," Shit. Maybe he should have dignified that suggestion from Lyla telling him to write this down first. "You can't just— just say all of that shit and then tell me you're bad with words."

Wait, what? Clear confusion was well written on his face from the way that his brows knitted together.

Your hand broke free from his grasp to move up his arm, his shoulder, before smoothing over his hair, tucking back the stray strands that have fallen on his face so that you can lean forward, and kiss his forehead. Even if the kiss was so small, it felt so heavenly.

Your kisses moved down to the bridge of his nose, then finally landing on his lips, the lips that you've only dreamt of kissing and now the past month of desire felt like it was slowly being satiated. Your eyes flutter close as you can feel Miguel stand up, his strong arms move to wrap around your waist, nearly lifting you off of the floor as the kiss deepens.

His hands wandered the expanse of your back, like he was trying to revise every inch of you, but you didn't blame him. Both of you needed this so much and so badly too. Every rub and soft groan spoke a hundred utterances of I miss you, I miss you, I miss you.

He barely pulls back once the kiss ends, faces barely inches away from each other. You find yourself entranced in the delightful shade of red that his eyes are, you'd catch yourself bashfully staring at them before, but now? You were more than shameless about it.

"Let me inside," whispered Miguel, voice low and husky, only laced with want and need. You knew exactly what he needed. "Want to make it all up to you, please."

You couldn't do anything about it as you obliged, grabbing Miguel by the collar of his jacket, and tugging him inside your apartment. Not even a few steps in, he grabs the flowers and donuts from your grasp, sets them down on the coffee table, before pushing your body against the couch. You yelped a little, but he silenced it by capturing your lips in yet another searing kiss that you couldn't help but lean into.

All the physical affection that Miguel had given you last time didn't disappoint at all, but this just felt entirely different. His actions were saying just as much as his words, leaning his frame into yours and hungrily pressing you into the cushions.

You thought that he'd at least give you a second to breathe but he stole that from you once more as his lips travelled down, kissing along the outline of your jaw then moving down to your neck. His favorite spot, he remembered every single mark and bruise that he left on you, and he was going to make anew.

The familiar feeling of sharpness as his fangs nibbled at the flesh, you didn't even have to look down to see the marks forming and blooming in a lovely shade of red as he continued to bite.

It's not like you were any better than him though. Needy and pathetic whines that slipped out of your mouth, just a continuous string of please Miguel, need you, missed you so much, I want you so bad. It all only continued to spur him on, he murmured sweet nothings both in Spanish and English against your neck as his advances moved its way down your figure.

His rough, calloused hands had a firm grip on you, daring to slip under the hem of your shirt— no, his shirt. "Can't believe I let go of all of this," He rasped out. "Eres tan bueno conmigo, you're being so good. Letting me get a taste of you," He fed into his impulses, lifting your shirt up to expose most of your torso besides your chest.

Your nails dug into his back, free hand tangling in his locks as he continued to press more wet kisses onto your belly, then to your abdomen. As to tease you, he instead went to your thighs. His claws scraped against the plumpness of it before he took a big bite.

You keened, the hand that you had nuzzled in his hair tightened.

"Miguel, please—"

"I know, I know. Just wait a little longer, hm?"

With every peck, every coo, every single breath that he took, it all spoke the same meaning to you.

I want you.

I need you.

I love you.

request rules here, masterlist here

[apollodarling-writes]

https://www.tumblr.com/apollodarling-writes/736643262888148992/post-war-worshipper-levi-hcs-has-he-chilled-out

This one made me so sad but it’s so good☹️😭 Can we have reader who takes care of Levi? Loves him and they have their happy ending? Fem reader who was dating him before or finally accepted his advances Levi deserves it fr fr he has earned it. (I say this is sad like I didn’t request it…)

post war! levi with a reader who gives him his happy ending

cws ; yandere themes, aot spoilers, traumatized! levi, lots of fluff.

sorry for getting to this so late!! i hope you like it,, im a little bit rusty ☝🏻😔

— post war! levi who you had fallen in love with during the war. seeing him get hurt broke something inside you, forcing you to finally confront your feelings for him.

— post war! levi whose advances you’d stubbornly dodged and berated for years, but despite that, he’d never given up on you. you were the only one he wanted even after all this time. that level of devotion was something that made your heart race.

— post war! levi who you asked to meet with once he was healed enough to levi the medical wing, confessing that you’d realized you harbored feelings for him after all.

— post war! levi who stares at you in silent shock, wondering if this was a cruel joke you were playing on him. when you reassure him it wasn’t, and that you wanted to be with him, he can’t help but sag in relief. all of his efforts weren’t in vain.

— post war! levi who takes your hand in his, a soft, almost unnoticeable smile tugging at his lips as he declares you his. he’ll press a tender kiss to your knuckles and try not to tear up, thinking that all of his good deeds for humanity must’ve made him worthy of love… that despite everything he’s done to ensure you were his, he’d somehow finally earned the right to belong to you officially.

— post war! levi who will have you move in with him immediately. he’ll need some help around the house and with gabi and falco after all.

— post war! levi who spoils you rotten. he’ll purchase anything you want. he never spent too much money on himself in the past, most of his money being hoarded for this purpose.

— post war! levi who enjoys taking baths with you, or letting you take him on strolls through the city, a field, or even just sitting with you while you read a book to him.

— post war! levi who will eat anything you cook for him, but if it tastes bad, he’ll give you some gentle pointers.

— post war! levi who loves when you rake your fingers through his hair. the feeling of your nails on his scalp soothes him, making him forget all of those nasty memories that haunt him every time he closes his eyes.

— post war! levi who will wake up in the middle of the night due to nightmares, his eyes immediately searching for you. he’ll relax a bit once he realizes you’re beside him, shifting you closer to him so he can feel your heartbeat. it reminds him that you’re alive and here with him— grounding him in the present instead of the past

— post war! levi who likes to hold your hand and rub his fingers along your knuckles or the back of your palm. he loves the way your skin feels against his.

— post war! levi who feels bad when you have to comfort him. he’s supposed to be strong, right? your reassurance eases his worries, allowing him to slowly open up to you about his feelings of guilt and grief, as well as his past.

— post war! levi who is happy for once in his life. he has you, the two of you co-parenting the kids and living the life he’s always dreamed of. he finally has everything he’s ever wanted.