#okay Mr Halo..

[trappedinacomputer]

Ros: "I'm gonna tell Aimsey about what happened at Tubbo's Tavern"

Bad: "that's good, I believe informing is a good thing."

*Ros leaves*

Bad: "you know what they say Chip, snitches get stitches and end up in ditches."

[rig-a-rendal]

dyed my hair today

[hawthorne-bias]

rosewater

You’re the loveliest person Steve's ever seen, making him forget everything—even his own damn feet!

tags: steve rogers x you; established relationship; tooth-rotting fluff; SIMP ALERT!! SIMP ALERT!!; mr. steven grant rogers is a total goner for you.

warnings: none! no gendered language used for the reader.

word count: 729.

a/n: pictures used in header are from pinterest. dividers used here are by @saradika-graphics. mcu and its characters aren't mine. likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!! hope you'll enjoy reading this!! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

The morning air is crisp, with winter's soft chill still lingering even as the promise of a warmer day peeks through. Steve walks beside you, his boots scuffing lightly against the pavement, each step unhurried. His vacation isn't over yet, and this week after New Year's feels like an extra gift. Borrowed time, he thinks, and he’s intent on savoring every moment of it—especially when it means moments like this: walking you to work.

You’re chatting away, your voice weaving a story about your family’s Christmas get-together, the one he missed while he was away. He listens intently at first, catching bits about your cousin’s infamous baking disaster and the hilarity of a chaotic gift exchange. Your laugh dances in the air as you recount your aunt accidentally unwrapping someone else’s present, and Steve finds himself smiling, warmed by the sound.

But then… he gets distracted.

It’s not anything else that pull his attention, but you.

The way the morning sun plays in your hair, turning it into a soft halo. The faint flush on your cheeks from the cold, a shade that deepens every time you laugh. The way your scarf sits a little crooked, like you’d rushed to put it on but didn’t care enough to fix it. Your breath puffs out in tiny clouds as you speak, your eyes bright and sparkling with joy, and suddenly, Steve feels his chest tighten.

God, you’re beautiful.

So much so that he doesn’t pay attention to where he’s walking anymore. He doesn’t notice anything but you. And then, his foot catches—on nothing.

Steve stumbles, his balance tipping for just a second. He catches himself quickly, but the movement startles you, and your hand shoots out to steady him before he fully rights himself.

“Steve!” you exclaim, your voice filled with worry as your hand stays on his arm. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he answers quickly, his voice just a little higher than usual. He rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze as heat rushes to his face. “I, uh… just got distracted.”

Your brows knit together in concern. “By what?”

Steve hesitates, looking down at you. You’re standing so close now, your hand still lightly resting on his arm, and that crease of worry between your brows tugs at something deep in his chest. He could brush it off, laugh it away—but no. Not when you’re looking at him like that.

“You,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re just… really cute, you know that?”

Your eyes widen, and for a moment, you’re completely still, your breath catching in your chest. Then your cheeks take on a soft, glowing warmth, a color that feels as though it could melt the winter chill, and you duck your head, letting out a flustered laugh.

“Steve,” you mumble, half-embarrassed, half-scolding. “You can’t just say stuff like that.”

“Why not?” he asks, the corners of his mouth twitching into a soft smile. He tilts his head, trying to catch your gaze, his earlier stumble forgotten entirely.

“Because…” You falter, your words trailing off as you press your lips together, clearly unsure of how to respond.

Steve watches you, utterly captivated by how adorably flustered you are. His heart feels like it’s swelling in his chest, overflowing with affection, and he knows without a doubt that this—you—is his favorite kind of moment.

But before he can tease you further, you reach out and grab his hand, your fingers lacing firmly through his. “Come on,” you mutter, your voice quieter now. “We’re going to be late.”

Steve lets you pull him along, his hand enveloping yours as though it belongs there. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, content to watch you as you walk ahead, your blush still lingering, your head tilted slightly away from him like you’re trying to hide it.

But he doesn’t miss the way your grip tightens, soft and warm.

Steve gives your hand a gentle squeeze, a soft grin tugging at his lips as warmth floods his chest. He doesn’t need to say it aloud again—not yet. He’s too busy soaking in the sweetness of this moment, of you—

Because you don’t just look cute.

You’re everything lovely wrapped into one, and Steve thinks to himself, not for the first time, that he must be the luckiest guy in the world.

if you've enjoyed this fic and would like to be tagged in my future fanfics, please drop an ask into my inbox! thank you so much for reading this!! <333

[minors and ageless blogs will not be tagged in the nsfw fics, by the way! i'm sorry!!]

steve rogers masterlist || general masterlist

[vivwritesfics]

Hooked On A Feeling

Chapter Eleven - Mwuah

Daniel is a Formula One driver, but, more importantly, he was a single dad to a wonderful little girl. He wants her to be a normal little girl, to have a normal social life, so he sends her to daycare. That was where she met Milo, her future best friend.

Milo's mother was incredibly stressed. She worked so hard to provide a good life for her son. But then he makes a new friend, a friend who has a hot dad (ofc they fall in love)

1.3K

Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader

Series Masterlist

"Mr Ricciardo," said Milo as he tugged on the bottom of Daniels shorts, trying to get his attention. "Mr Ricciardooooo!"

Daniel hadn't stopped staring at Milos Momma. She was dressed in his AlphaTauri shirt again, speaking animatedly with Laurent Mekies. He wore heart eyes, whether he realised it or not.

Again, Milo tugged on his shorts, gaining his attention. "What can I do for you, Milo?" He asked as he crouched down, meeting his height.

Milo looked behind him, looking at his car. "Can I drive it?" He asked, somewhat timidly.

Daniel didn't laugh at him. He wore a kind smile as he stood up straight and held his hand. "You can't drive it, buddy. But, if your Momma says it's okay, I might be able to let you sit in it?" He proposed.

Immediately Daniel began tugging him towards his mother, calling for her. But Y/N was in conversation. Unless something bad was happening, she wasn't turning around. "I think somebody wants you," said Laurent as he let her turn around.

Y/N sent him an apologetic smile and turned around. There Milo was, holding Daniels hand. She looked around for Olivia, who was sitting in the corner, on her iPad. "What do you boys want?" She asked, her voice teasing.

"Momma, can I sat in Mr Ricciardos car?" Milo asked quickly.

"Did Mr Ricciardo say its okay?" She asked, looking up at Daniel through her eyelashes.

It wasn't supposed to be sexy, Daniel knew that. But seeing her dressed in his AlphaTauri shirt, looking up at him like that, he couldn't help it. She was so damn pretty, so damn alluring.

"It's fine with me," he said, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Then it's fine by me."

She watched as Milo dragged Daniel back over to his car. Daniel picked him up and lowered him into the Formula One car. Immediately Milo reached for the steering wheel, which wasn't there. His mother pulled out her phone as she snapped pictures of him pretending to drive. He moved his arms and hands like he was steering and moved his feet like he was pushing pedals. Daniel leaned against the halo, telling Milo where to turn. He didn't use left and right to direct him, instead telling him to drive towards his Momma, towards Olivia, keep going straight - push! Push! Push!

Y/N looked away from her son and Daniel. She loved it, loved how he was with him. But her eyes locked onto Olivia, who was no longer playing on her iPad. The iPad was in her lap as she glared at Milo and her father.

She pocketed her phone and walked around the car, walking over to Olivia. "Hey," she said as she sat beside her. "Whatcha doing?"

But Olivia was still glaring. Y/N gently nudged her shoulder. "You know, if you asked your daddy if you could have the next go, I'm sure he'd say yes," she said.

Olivia set out a sigh as she let her gaze fall to the floor, visibly upset. "Oh Livvy, what's the matter?" She asked as she grabbed a hold of the iPad, stopping it from sliding to the floor.

"Daddy looks like Milo's daddy," she said quietly.

"Oh, Livvy," Y/N said sympathetically. Somehow she understood what Olivia was saying. That they, Daniel, Milo and Y/N, looked like one happy family, one she wasn't a part of.

Standing from her chair, Y/N offered Olivia her hand. She took it and, together, the girls walked over to the car. Olivia squeezed her hand and looked up at her as they walked. When they got to the car, Y/N scooped Olivia up and placed her on her hip. "Daniel, somebody has something they wanna ask you," she said, turning Olivia towards her father.

Daniel looked away from Milo. "What is it, Badger?" He asked softly as he took Olivia from Y/N.

While they walked, Y/N lifted Milo out of the car. "Come here, munchkin," she said and stepped away, letting Daniel and Olivia have their moment. Before she knew it Olivia was sat in the car, pretending to drive it just the way Milo was.

***

The AlphaTauri car was doing exceptionally well, considering it was an AlphaTauri car. At first Daniel was just fighting for points, but now he was fighting for the podium. "Go, daddy, go!" Olivia shouted as she watched, squeezing Y/N's hand.

Somebody's car had stopped working and two had crashed into each other, taking each other out of the race. That left just seventeen cars in the race.

This was going to be Daniels highest points finish since he was put back into the AlphaTauri car. Olivia couldn't wait to see him on the podium again.

But Daniel wasn't on the podium, not this time. He couldn't get in front of the Ferrari car that took third, leaving him finishing p4.

He was still happy though. As soon as he could he was pulling his helmet off and running over to Olivia. He didn't care how sweaty he was as he pulled her into his arms. "Yay, daddy!" She cried, wrapping her arms around her neck.

"Mr Ricciardo!" Daniel shouted as he attached himself to his leg.

But Daniel put both of the kids down. They stepped back, watching with wide, curious eyes as Daniel walked towards Y/N. His gloved hands reached towards her, settling on her waist and pulling her close.

"Congratulations, Danny," she whispered and reached up to kiss his cheek.

But that wasn't good enough for Daniel. He tightened his hold on her and leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers. She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him back.

There were probably cameras on them, Daniel realised. They were in the middle of the AlphaTauri garage, the moment not very private. But he didn't care. The whole world might've been watching, but he didn't care.

Milo and Olivia watched. This wasn't meant to happen. Their parent's weren't meant to start... kissing. "Daddy, stop it!" Olivia called, but Daniel didn't hear it.

He pulled away from Y/N and rested his forehead against her own. But neither of them could say anything, not before Milo began calling for his momma.

"What is it, Munchkin?" She asked, turning away from Daniel.

Milo scrambled around for an excuse. "I... need to go to the bathroom, momma," he said, reaching for her hand. Y/N shot Daniel an apologetic look and took Milo off to the bathroom.

As she did, Daniel grabbed a hold of Olivia. "Come on," he said softly and walked her to his drivers room. Olivia sat on the white sofa as Daniel stepped out of his racing suit. She kicked her legs, playing on her iPad as her father got changed.

"Daddy," Olivia said slowly as Daniel put his hat back onto his head. "Is Miss L/N gonna be my new momma?" She asked innocently, looking away from her iPad.

Daniel took the iPad from her and placed it into his bag. "Badger," he began as he picked her up and placed her on his hip. "Badger no. She's not gonna be your new momma."

"Then why were you kissing her?"

It was delicate, something Daniel didn't know how to explain to Olivia. "Look, Livvy. I like Milo's momma, but things take time, okay. And I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell your mum just yet."

"So, it's a secret?"

"Yeah, jelly bean. A secret I'll tell your mum when everybody's ready, okay? Think you can keep that secret for me?"

Olivia pouted and laid her head against Daniels shoulder. "Okay Daddy," she said as he carried her out of the drivers room.

Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @cassie0sstuff @spideybv28 @andydrysdalerogers @aundercover @lou-bean28 @landossainz @purplephantomwolf @ggaslyp1 @layazul @phantomxoxo @minkyungseokie @gills-lounge @hollie911 @annispamz @lillians-world-is-f1 @cixrosie @notyouraveragemochii @charli123456789 @amalialeclerc @teamnovalak @tallrock35 @teenwolf01 @chiliwhore @darleneslane @sava207 @thatsusbitch @formulaal @leptitlu @angiesw0rld @yunakynn @landosgirlxoxo @msolbesg @cherry-piee @catmouseggy @bathedinheat @chanshintien @ilove-tswizzle @woozarts @evie-119 @trouble-sistar @mysticalnightenthusiast @lewisvinga @spilled-coffee-cup @starkeyellow @fxrmuladaydreams @viennakarma @radiator101 @lightdragonrayne @angelxxrose @millinorrizz @xemiefx @ellies-world61 @the-depressed-fellow

[holylulusworld]

Indecent Proposal (1)

Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.

Rating: Mature

Square filled for @stuckybingo Round 5: free space - mafia au

Square filled for @anyfandomgoesbingo: Free Space

Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, mentions of illegal activities/mafia business/murder, strong reader, mentions of breeding/surrogate, wish for children, shady deals, shitty boyfriend, reader doesn't take shit from no one, tension, sexy mobsters

Words: 1,5k

Indecent Proposal masterlist

“Babe, how do I look?” Your boyfriend asks, almost stumbling over his words as the men he was hoping to meet at the fancy party walk inside the room. 

Well, they don’t walk like normal people. They are stepping inside the room, stopping in their tracks to look at the people in the room. It looks like the crowd parts like the Red Sea to form a path only for them.

Steven Grant Rogers. James Buchanan Barnes. – Two names you must know if you ever heard of New York City and its mob.

They are as good-looking as they are dangerous. A deadly combination of beauty and the beast hidden behind blue eyes.

If you don’t want to end up six feet under, you don’t mess with them. Or even look their way too long.

“Did you put on the underwear I told you to?” 

“What has this to do with the party?” You sigh, as you still don’t know why Scott brought you here.

You’ve been dating for a few months, and you had hoped that tonight, he’d do more than the bare minimum. He’s not a bad guy, but an awful partner.

A criminal too. Not a criminal mastermind, but you already figured out that the small business he runs is far from legal.

“It’s important, babe,” you roll your eyes at the awful pet name. You hate it and told him so before. “Okay, don’t say anything stupid. Or, just look pretty and don’t say anything at all.”

“What?” Now you square your jaw. You don’t understand what has gotten into Scott until you lift your eyes off him to meet two pairs of blue ones. “Oh…”

“Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes,” Scott looks pathetic when he bows for the heads of the mob in town. “I’m honored to meet you again. Thank you for having me.”

The men ignore Scott and his offered hand. Instead, they look at you. Steve almost shoves your boyfriend aside as he holds out his hand to take yours.

“I see you followed our invitation,” he lowers himself to press a kiss to the back of your hand. You shiver. He seems so polite, and kind. But behind his blue eyes, you can see the beast wanting to break free.

“Stevie don’t scare her off right away,” you are a little overwhelmed when James Barnes turns his attention toward you. He takes your other hand and kisses your knuckles, glancing at your ring finger. “No ring, doll? He didn’t ask you to be his forever?”

“No-“ You’re usually not shy, or meek. But these men crowd you like prey and have their hands on you. You know they are in a relationship, but right now, they look at you as if you are their latest meal. “We’re only dating for a few months.”

“A shame,” Steve cups your chin, making you whimper. You never felt like this before. Confused and aroused at the same time. These men are strangers, but oddly you feel safe in their presence. “What do you say? Shall we lead this to a more private area?”

You don’t know why they are interested in leading you and your boyfriend to a private area, but this can’t be good. People like them never have good intentions, and you assume Steve and Bucky are no exception.

“I’m good here…I mean. You should enjoy your party. Don’t you have to greet all the people you invited?” You nervously babble. 

“Doll, they don’t care if we greet them or not. They are only here to show respect to us,” Bucky runs his index finger up your arm. He smirks as you involuntarily shudder at his touch. “Let’s lead this to our office.”

“Scott,” you dip your head to glance at your boyfriend. He looks up at Steve as if the man is carrying a halo on top of his head. “Scott!”

“Babe don’t be rude. We should follow them to the office,” your boyfriend is no help. He’s wringing his hands while staring at Steve Rogers. God, he’s such a pathetic little boy. You just see it now when you watch him interact with two real men.

“Fine,” you snap at Scott if only to end his pathetic act. “Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes, please lead the way.” 

“Do you want a drink or a canapé doll? We can ask the maid to get you something you’ll like,” Bucky sits next to you on the couch, one hand running up and down his thigh, the other creeping toward your thigh. He brushes his metal finger over your exposed skin, barely listening to what his partner has to say.

“Buck, did you listen?”

“Seal the deal,” the brunette clicks his tongue, “I’ll take care of the main act in the meantime. You know I don’t care about the conditions. We already negotiated them. You can take care of the details.”

“I want to take over more important tasks,” Scott suddenly says. He glances at you, and then he looks at Steve. “Sir, I agree on the terms. I’ll do anything to prove that you can trust me.”

“Does she agree on our terms too?” Steve dips his head to watch you stop Bucky’s hand from stroking your thigh. “Buck, we are talking here.”

“I know,” Bucky huffs. “All you do is talk to that slimy little bastard. Give him what he wants so we can get what we want.”

“Mr. Lang, you know that if we seal the deal, that you cannot break it. We have rules for a reason.”

“She will agree,” Scott hastily says. You snap your head toward your boyfriend, wondering what he’s talking about. “Right, Y/N? You’ll help me with the deal.”

“I told you that I’m not going to do anything illegal,” you hiss at Scott. “I looked the other way when you sold stolen phones to my colleagues, but I won’t actively help you. I’m not a criminal.”

“You didn’t talk about the deal with her?” Bucky suddenly jumps up to fist Scott’s jacket. “You dare to come to our house and lie to us?”

“I didn’t lie, Sir…Mr. Barnes. Y/N said she finds you hot, and all. She even talked about ending up between the two of you to her friend.”

“You sick fuck spied on me and Maria?” You growl at Scott. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes…I’m sure she’ll help you have a baby and all…”

“Baby what?” You furrow your brows. “Okay. This is getting ridiculous. What is going on here?”

“Well, we want you to become our surrogate. Bucky and I love each other dearly, but I cannot give him what he needs, nor can he give me what I want. A baby…an heir. We were looking for the perfect woman, with the perfect bloodline.”

“I-what?” The room suddenly caves in. You feel dizzy and grab the edge of the couch. “You want me to be your breeder?”

“No, doll,” Steve walks toward the couch to crouch down in front of you. “We want you to spend time with us…or rather between us.” He grins. “I want you to have my baby. And then you’ll have Bucky’s. We haven’t figured out whose allowed to breed you first.”

“Breed me?” Oh. God. Your pussy just clenched around nothing. If not for the anger taking over, you’d gladly jump Steve’s bones to have all the babies he wants. “Are you fucking insane? I’m not a piece of meat you can just buy!”

“We believed he talked about the deal with you, doll. Please, don’t be mad at us,” Steve purrs, and runs his hand over your cheek. “We only wanted what we deserve. The perfect woman having our babies.”

“She will agree…” Scott nervously says. He looks at you, hoping you’ll agree to whatever the two men holding his fate in their hands want. “Right babe?”

“I hate it when you call me that,” you jump up, and push Steve aside. “What did you believe will happen when you bring me here to offer my uterus and pussy to these two? Huh? That I’ll just bend over the desk and let them have their way with me!”

“I-uh…kinda…yes…”

“Pathetic,” you click your tongue as you glance at Bucky. He cracks his knuckles, ready to rough Scott up a little for messing with them. “I knew you were no good. I should’ve listened to my gut instinct.”

You dip your head to watch Steve walk toward his partner. They are looking at you, like lions ready to pounce. Those two men set their eyes on you, and you are not foolish enough to believe that they’ll leave you alone.

If you end up in their clutches, you’ll make sure they only get their hands on you to your conditions. “You want me and my womb?”

“More than anything,” Bucky purrs. He steps behind you to place both of his hands on your belly. “And I can tell, Stevie, and will love filling you up.”

Scott hopefully looks at you. This is the moment he was waiting for. He’ll be a made man soon, and his ex will see, he's more than the loser she sees in him. 

You look at Steve, holding his gaze, “I’ll be yours if you get rid of him…”

Part 2

[stop-talking]

Open wide

Mike Schmidt x gender-neutral reader

2.8k words

Tags: 18+, no use of y/n, smut, porn with plot, extremely unrealistic scenario but it's funny, mike is a horny bastard & a sub, handjob (mike receiving), post-movie, mike's POV!

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

Mike can't even remember the last time he went to the dentist.

Well, he CAN remember, he just doesn't want to. He was a child the last time he went, and only bits and pieces of the experience stuck with him. An old man poking bony gloved fingers into his mouth, having his teeth scraped with a hook, and being scolded for not brushing good enough.

Yeah. The dentist is not a fond memory for Mike. That's part of the reason he hasn't bothered to go in over ten years. (The other part being that he's spent most of early adulthood broke as fuck; and values groceries over trips to the oral hygienist.)

But with his new job, and the healthcare benefits that come along with it... well, he really has no excuse not to go.

So, he sits in a small room with blue walls and ocean-themed décor, squirming on the weird lounge chair. There's a giant mirror over his head, and he can't help but be reminded of those funhouse mirrors at the circus. The ones that twist and contort your face in an unsettling way.

"Hey, Mr. Schmidt, right?" You make your way through the door, scanning over a clipboard.

Is this the dentist? Mike scrambles to sit up in the awkwardly-reclined chair and hold out a hand for you to shake.

"Uh, just 'Mike' is fine." He gives you a weak smile and a firm handshake before leaning back against the chair once more.

You introduce yourself as a dental assistant, and when he thinks about it, that makes more sense. You look young, probably close to his own age. And... rather attractive, actually.

Fuck. Did you just ask him a question?

"Sorry, I... I'm not sure..." He stutters, doing his best not to squirm under your gaze.

This seems to amuse you, because you try and fail to suppress a chuckle. Shit. Was that the wrong answer?

"You're not sure what flavor of toothpaste you want, Mike?" You ask, cocking an eyebrow at him.

Mike sputters again, making a complete fool of himself. Before he can get out a complete thought, you cut him off.

"It's okay. Want me to just pick for you?"

He nods.

"Alright then, you look like a watermelon kind of guy. Is that fine?"

Another nod.

You smile and pull on a pair of blue gloves, matching your blue scrubs.

"Something tells me you haven't been here before."

"Am I that obvious?"

"Yes... and no. I read it on your medical record just now." You give him a teasing smile and hold up the clipboard you'd been pouring over when you walked in.

Mike laughs nervously at what he's pretty sure was supposed to be a joke, and watches as you pull up a chair.

"I haven't exactly been going to regular checkups." He confesses.

"Well then, let's see what we're working with. Open up for me?"

He squints as you turn on a harsh overhead light attached to the mirror and angle it down so it shines right in his face. Damnit, what is this? An interrogation?

"Open up." You repeat, not asking this time.

Fuck. Why is that kind of...? Ugh, no. Not even going there. Mike tentatively opens his mouth, still blinking through the interrogation-esque lighting above him.

"There you go. A little wider, now."

Your fingers immediately find their way into his mouth, prying his jaws open further.

Mike's eyes go wider than his jaw when you pull out a hook and start scraping it against his teeth. What the fuck? He's feeling more and more like this is some kind of torture and interrogation ritual.

"I know, hun. No one likes the hook. Just relax." You coo, placing a hand on the side of his face and wedging your thumb between his teeth.

He takes a deep breath and melts back into the chair, letting himself be soothed by your voice. Mike tries to focus on your face above him instead of the horrible metal scraping his bones. The backlighting creates a halo around your head as you lean over him, reminding him of an angel.

You seem to notice his staring, because you smile down at him.

"So, tell me about yourself, Mike."

Mike's brow furrows in confusion. How the hell is supposed to answer that with a mouthful of latex-covered fingers and metal torture instruments?

"Uhhh..." He lets out a strained gargle, the only sound he can really make in this moment.

"Interesting..." You chuckle, still scraping away at his teeth.

"Tell me more."

Oh. You're teasing him. Fuck that.

Mike rolls his eyes, trying to make it clear he's not in the mood.

"Sassy, are we? Careful. I do have a hook in your mouth."

Christ. Are you threatening him now? Is this how trips to the dentist are supposed to go? Mike has no idea. So, he lets out another grunt.

"Your teeth actually look really nice. You brush at least twice a day?"

Mike nods slightly, scared to move too much with the hook scraping dangerously close to his gums.

"Good, good. Your teeth are so straight and bright."

Now you're complimenting him? Mike can feel his brain go fuzzy as he stares up into your eyes. The paper mask you're wearing covers the lower half of your face, sure, but your eyes are... entrancing.

He tries to say a quick "thanks", but with your thumb still wedged between his teeth... it comes out as more of an "Aahhh". And sounds suspiciously like a moan. Damnit.

"Got something to say?" You laugh softly, removing your fingers and tools from his mouth.

Mike takes the opportunity to close his mouth and feel over his teeth with his tongue. They feel... different.

"Just, uh, thanks..." He mumbles.

"Of course, you're doing so well."

Fuck. Are his jeans getting tighter?

Mike tries to subtly adjust himself while you turn to grab something off the nearby table. God damnit. This wouldn't happen if he wasn't so damn touch starved.

You put a little hose in his mouth and explain it's to rinse his mouth out. Or something like that. Mike isn't really listening, instead focusing solely on calming the fuck down.

"Oh, and sorry if I'm talking too much. I just transferred over from a pediatric office, so I'm used to having to distract my patients while I work. You probably don't need that, do you?"

He just gargles a response, mouth filling with water.

"Wait, here, don't swallow that."

Mike can't help but think he'd swallow anything if you told him to. Ugh. His jeans are definitely getting too tight.

You stick a different hose in his mouth, and it sucks out the watery saliva mixture.

"You're fine... I haven't been to the dentist since I was a kid, anyways."

"Really?" You ask, eyes lighting up as you lean over him again.

"Y-Yeah."

"Oh, but your teeth look so nice! Keep doing whatever you're doing, hun." You cup his face in your hands, leaning in close and gently pushing his lips back with your thumbs for a better look at his teeth.

Mike squirms slightly, a little intimidated by your firm grip on his face and intense scrutiny of his mouth. He tries to tug the hem of his hoodie down in an attempt to hide his growing boner. Fuck, he feels like such a pervert.

Of course, his movement only draws your attention down to his... ''problem area''.

You must be pretending not to notice, because your eyes flick back over to the table. As you get up to grab something, you casually bump the door with your hip and it swings shut.

What's that for? Mike is too embarrassed to ask, so he just waits patiently as you make your way back over with a toothbrush.

"Open for me." You playfully tap his lips with a finger, and Mike does as asked.

"Good, good... we're almost done here."

Mike feels a lot more relaxed like this. Your voice is soothing, and he stares up into your eyes as you brush his teeth. It's strange to have someone else do it for him, but hey, at least you're not using the damn hook anymore.

After a minute or so of this, he starts to calm down, the tent in his pants dying down as well. Thank god.

"Alright, gonna rinse your mouth again. If you have any needs or concerns regarding your teeth, now's the time to tell me."

Mike gently shakes his head no, mouth filling with water as you rinse his teeth with the little hose.

"You sure? Nothing else you want?"

Are you... flirting with him? Or is this just how these things go? Mike's head spins as you put the toothbrush back in his mouth again.

"Just gonna brush your tongue... Say 'ahh' for me!"

Mike lets out a weak ''ahh'', that, again, sounds extremely similar to a moan. Fuck.

You slowly brush his tongue, going further and further back. Mike starts to shift in his seat, wondering just how much of his tongue he's supposed to be brushing. He certainty never goes this far, it's almost at the back of his throat... Still, he tits his head back slightly, letting you go even deeper.

"Damn. No gag reflex, or just used to this sort of thing?" You tease, smirking so obviously he can see it through the mask.

Okay, yeah. You're definitely flirting with him.

Mike just sputters and chokes in response, unable to speak while practically deepthroating the damn toothbrush.

"Sorry, let me get that out..."

When his mouth is finally his own again, free of intrusive fingers and oral hygiene instruments, he clears his throat. There's a familiar tightness in his jeans, and he's sure by now that you've noticed.

"Uhh... I..."

You take off your mask and he can finally see your whole face again. Your smile is attractive, no doubt, but also a little... hungry? You want something from him.

Mike isn't sure he could resist if you asked.

"So, you're sure there's nothing else... bothering you?" You ask, eyes trailing down to the tent in his jeans.

Ah, fuck. There's no hiding it now, huh? Mike tries to at least sit up slightly in the chair, but ends up a squirming mess instead.

"I..." He starts, swallowing hard.

"Are you offering...?"

As if to answer his unspoken question, you stand up from your chair and throw a leg over his.

He watches with wide eyes as you inch up his legs, straddling him and sitting just below his crotch.

"What do you think?"

Holy shit. What kind of a question is that? He "thinks" this is the hottest thing that's ever happened to him.

"More." He mumbles, bringing his hands up to rest on the sides of your thighs.

That's all the confirmation you need, apparently. Before he can even process what's happening, you're grinding against his clothed cock.

Mike moves his hands up to your hips, watching as you remove the blue latex gloves with your teeth. God, that's got to be the most arousing thing he's ever seen, and he's not even sure why. He feels like a victorian man seeing an ankle. Is he really that goddamn desperate?

You brace your hands against his chest and lean in close, even more so than when you were prodding your fingers in his mouth.

Fuck. Mike decides he is definitely that desperate.

"You want this, don't you?" You ask sweetly, hot breath brushing against his lips.

He nods eagerly. Yes, he wants this. More than anything.

"Use your words, hun."

"I want this." He whines, bucking his hips up to meet yours while you grind on him. "I want you."

"I know." You whisper, bridging the small remaining gap between the two of you.

Mike kisses you back in earnest, moaning into your mouth when he finally feels your tongue slip between his lips.

He'd be content to stay like this forever, if his cock wasn't absolutely aching in his jeans. The grinding feels nice, yes, but he doesn't want to cum like this.

When you finally pull away and sit back up on him, he's left gasping for breath. Holy shit. Is this really happening?

"You really thought I wouldn't notice?" You ask, humming happily as you unzip his jeans.

Mike stammers out a response as you tug his pants down, squirming to help you get them off faster. He wishes you'd take the boxers off too, but he's not gonna push his luck.

"I-I couldn't help It... You're so..." He just looks up at you with pure admiration, letting his hands slide down your thighs.

"...perfect." Yeah, that's just about the only word describe you. No other would do you justice, not with how amazing you look on top of him like this.

"And you're already leaking."

Mike whimpers as you grope his dick, palming at it through his boxers. Fuck, you're not wrong. He can see the wet spot growing on his underwear. He tightens his grip on your thighs, desperate to feel you.

"More." He chokes out. "Please."

"Hmm... should I give you more?" You taunt him, giving his aching cock a firm squeeze through the fabric of his underwear.

"Yes!"

Mike is nearly shouting at this point, and tears prick at the corners of his eyes. He can only pray the room is somewhat soundproof.

"Well, I guess you have been good for me..."

You slowly peel down his boxers, and his dick springs up to slap against his stomach. A steady stream of precum is leaks from the tip, and his back arches from the sudden sensation.

"Fuck... yes... good... so, so good for you..." He bucks his hips up into nothing, desperately pulling you down his lap by your thighs.

He isn't thinking straight at this point. It doesn't matter that you're at work. It doesn't matter you're fully clothed. He needs you on his dick. NOW.

"Woah, woah... slow down, hun." Laughing, you take his hands by the wrists and move them to the armrests.

He doesn't resist, throwing his head back and groaning. He'd let you do whatever you want to him at this point. He just wants to cum.

"Please..." He whimpers, gripping the armrests tightly as your hand inches towards his cock.

"You gonna be good for me? And wait till I give you permission to cum?"

He nods, still bucking his hips up into your hand as you wrap your soft hand around his length.

"Say it." You demand, still just holding it, unmoving as he slips further and further into pure desperation.

"I'll be good f'you. I'll wait. I promise. S'good..."

Mike mumbles a barely-coherent response, half nonsense as he fucks your hand with even more intensity. He's losing it already, and you've haven't even started-

Fuck.

You start to jerk him off at a moderate pace, hand moving in synch with his hips.

"That feel good, hm?"

He just moans a response, too fucked out to form words. His hips stutter and he nearly comes just from the way you're talking to him.

When you take your hand away suddenly, he groans, reaching out to grab your hips and pull you closer. You can't end this for him. Not yet.

Thankfully, you didn't seem eager to put a stop to things. You slide down his lap, resting right up against his cock.

"I swear, if you cum on my uniform, I'll make you lick it all up."

Shit. Mike nearly does just that as you lean down and furiously make out with him. It's the toothbrush all over again, with the way your tongue is punching down his throat. He's never felt this desired before.

One of your hands gently tugs at his curls, and the other pulls his lower back up into an arch as you grind against him. Fuck, If you don't slow down...

"I'm g-gonna... gonna cum..." He breaks the kiss, whining and desperately pushing back on your hips, trying to keep from finishing. He wants to be good for you. He really does.

"Do it." You whisper, moving down to kiss his neck as he whimpers.

"Cum for me."

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Mike wakes up in a cold sweat, trembling and gasping for air. Shit, he had been suffocating with his face in a pillow.

And... fuck. Probably jutting his hips into the mattress, too.

He doesn't even have to look at his shorts to know they're ruined. Damnit. Another wet dream. At this point, he almost preferred the reoccurring nightmares. Almost.

Hey, his next dentist appointment is in... what, three months? Maybe this time he'd work up the nerve to ask you out.

Probably not.

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

Author's note: I'M SORRY. Literally no one asked for this. Probably no one but me has ever gone "haha what if Mike has a praise kink and gets hard at the dentist". But it was so funny to me?? I had to stop what I was working on and write it IMMIDEATELY. I hope it wasn't too deranged.

I like to imagine his little dream is at least half true. Like, he's touch starved and ended up with an over-friendly oral hygienist who joked with him a little too much. And it made him feel things. But everything from the point of the door being closed and onwards is just his own twisted fantasy.

[barrackspredator]

patrick hockstetter x naive fem reader? 😋

this has been in my inbow for about a year. TW: Patrick, mocking religion, Patrick gets his own second warning

The Pastor's Daughter

Patick x Fem!Reader Patrick Hockstter is God.

In his own head, of course.

However, before he is a part-time self-proclaimed god, he is also the son of Patricia "Trisha" Hockstetter, Derry's most devout Baptist.

And while he could usually get away with skipping out on Sunday mass, this one was different. A new pastor was being brought into the church as the last pastor had gone to the pearly gates, and Trisha, eager to push her son closer to God, forced him to go with her.

After a long morning of arguing, Patrick was forced into his Sunday best, booted into the car, and forced to follow his grinning mother down the aisle. Aside from the laughable idea of there being other gods, Patrick's least favorite part about church was entering to take a seat. The judgmental stares, the hushed whispers, the blearing white. It was enough to drive him insane. He idly gazed through the crowd of phony-worshippers, grinning pridefully whenever somebody would look his way in stunned horror—which was often.

Finally stopping at the second pew, his mother ushered him in, a beaming smile on her face despite the mischievous glint in her eyes. Patrick noted this, quirking his eyebrow at her.

"What?" he mouthed as he sat down, partially sitting on something. "Nothing," she whispered, unable to hide her smile.

"Excuse me?" A quiet voice whispered from beside Patrick. "I don't mean to bother you, sir, but you're sitting on my purse."

Patrick rolled his eyes, turning in annoyance. "Then yank it." He paused, staring at the girl before him. Your eyes widened in surprise, your cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

"Oh, my apologies. I didn't realize... I thought you were a sir." You sheepishly laughed at your mistake, assuming Patrick was an older man. He stared at you, his eyes narrowing as he dissected every inch of you. Your eyes, your smile, your hair—the imaginary halo that glowed above your head.

"I am a sir," he growled, thinking you thought he was a girl.

"O-Oh? Really? Wow, you look so young!" You smiled wide, amazed by how young this "sir" looked.

"... Uh, yeah. I'm fucking 15, idiot." Patrick felt a sharp jab in his ribs, making him double over. He glared at his mom, who sneered at him until he turned back to face the girl. "My bad," he grumbled. The look of shock on your face was enough to make him smirk in amusement. Perhaps the most amused he'd ever felt in church.

"It's okay," you whispered. Your eyes were downcast as you tried to hold back a giggle. "You are very funny, uh... what is your name? Perhaps calling you sir would be weird as we are the same age." You looked back up into Patrick's eyes.

"Patrick." Another jab. "Hockstetter!" He glanced back at his mother, deeply annoyed with her antics. "Patrick Hockstter," he breathed out, placing his hand over his aching ribs.

You giggled politely, covering your mouth as you did. "Well, it's lovely to meet you, Patrick. I'm-"

"The pastor's daughter, right?" Mrs. Hockstetter interjected, taking you by surprise. You hesitated a few seconds before nodding your head. Patrick slowly turned his head to look at his mother as her plan clicked in his head. Did she really think the pastor's daughter would be a good influence on him? The thought was laughable. But this god had his own plan—to humor his mother. To get even.

He turned back to you with a charming smile. Well, as charming as he could pull off. "It's lovely to meet you," he said, taking your hand in his and gently pressing a kiss on your knuckle, enjoying how your eyes shot open. Church was suddenly starting to feel very entertaining for this god.

But of course, your father had to ruin the fun when he came out to begin his sermon and the choir started. You hesitated to pull your hand away, your eyes lingering on his until he turned away. Patrick only pulled away to hide his smirk, though. He didn't give a shit about the sermon, or the choir, or whatever the fuck his future father-in-law was spewing.

For that full hour, he sat there plotting. Every move of his had to be calculated, and they were. Glances here and there, brushing his hand against yours, gently thumbing your skin whenever it was time to join hands. And from every move blossomed a new splotch of red on your cheeks, which appeased him greatly. Even his mother looked pleased, and it took Patrick every bone in his body to not laugh at her failure of a plan. Oh, how he was going to make her look like such a fool!

By the end of mass, Patrick had you wrapped around his twisted, kind of fucked up, burnt finger. And with this newfound power, he got himself a date with the pastor's daughter at the junkyard.

To his mother's surprise, Patrick left mass with a big goofy smile on his face, giddy as he thought of the fridge he was going to show you on Friday night.

[kinopio-writes]

Hey love your works they are absolutely fantastic ❤️

This is an odd request but would you mind doing a Adam x Fem! Reader that is in the situation like Morty and Mr. Jellybean was? It is 100% a-okay if you don’t do this especially if it’s uncomfortable but I just wanted to know Adams reaction. Ignore if you are uncomfortable and/or just don’t want to do this ask!

Love your works!! 🥰🥰

A/N: Aww, thank you for the kind words :] I only have two works in total, lol. And, uh, I haven’t watched Rick and Morty, but I did search for some scenes on YouTube. Based on what I saw, do you mean to say how Adam would react if the reader was sexually harassed?

Words: 1,034 (not including the bullet points)

Warnings: Sexual harassment implied, Violence (because of Adam)

———

How Adam would react if Fem!Reader was sexually harassed…

In the middle of writing this, I just remembered that they live in Heaven. So I don’t know how or why a molester would end up in Heaven. Even if there was one, they likely got booted off immediately, so just imagine a sinner somehow managed to sneak into Heaven.

• Adam’s reaction would completely change depending on who you are to him (if you two just met for a date or are casual bang buddies)

• so I’ll just give you the best one for comfort (at least the best Adam could give) and make you two be in a close relationship (not GF and BF though. But you two go on not-so-platonic dates sometimes)

• I also think it’s good to mention that I try to keep Adam’s character as accurate as possible

• it might make him seem insensitive, so I suggest going to the last section if you’re here for comfort (the last section has a blue ‘•••’)

———

Adam recommended a place that had been recently open for a while. He actually burst through your front door to go there the day it was open.

Unfortunately for him, you were busy and will be for the next few weeks as well. Something about work that he didn’t bother to listen to because it was, well, about boring shit.

But now, you managed to get the whole week off, so Adam has you all for himself. And his first action of business was to get you to chillax. What better way to do that than to hang out with him?

He was so fucking hyped. He couldn’t wait to see the look on your face when you try out the food there!

You two were going to have so much fun!

•••

“We need to go,” was what you suddenly decided after you came back from the bathroom, voice emotionless and firm.

Adam stared at you as if you grew horns and a tail. “Why? The fuck happened?”

Your face faltered at his question. “We need to go. Please.”

“Uh, it hasn’t even been an hour. Now get over here and fucking eat.” You only did so after a moment he munched on his burger, but not in the way he expected. You hid near his seat, gripping on the legs as you made yourself as small as possible. “The fuck are you doing?” He paused before grinning suggestively. “Learn some decency, (Name), jeez. If you wanted to…suck…”

Adam trailed off as he watched someone come out of the women’s bathroom, badly beaten and bruised. He…it didn’t have a halo on its head, and its attempt to cover up its slender and angled horns was fucking stupid.

His playful expression dropped and it shifted to anger when he saw it looking around, around for you.

You suddenly felt a strong gust of wind as the plates and glasses clattered on the table you were hiding behind. You peeked from your spot to witness Adam ruthlessly and relentlessly punch the sinner’s face, a hand slowly going over your mouth at the display of violence. You didn’t know he could be so brutal. He was saying things that didn’t reach your ears, but you knew they weren’t pleasant.

You only felt yourself move after you saw Adam lift his arms in the air, hands accompanied by holy light. “Wait! Adam, Adam, stop!”

“What!” He turned around to face you momentarily as he shrugged your hand off of his shoulder. “Let me at ʼim—!”

“Adam, you’re causing a scene,” you whispered, glancing around at the growing audience.

Adam was offended. “I’m helping!” He flapped his wings to stand up, his anger now directed at you. “You’re just going to let a Sinner do you like that? Huh!”

“I just want to go home.”

He stared at your face for a moment. “Whatever.” He scowled at the Sinner one last time before he began making his way outside. You quietly followed after him. “This place is lame, anyway.”

The whole walk, you kept your head down as Adam gave the finger and a nasty look to anyone who ignorantly tried to approach you to cheer you up.

•••

You didn’t know when you got home; you didn’t even know Adam stayed with you until he spoke up.

“Uh…do you need, like, shit, I dunno…something?” You heard the ruffling of his wings and the shuffling of his clothing. “I could order delivery. There’s this place I’ve been…” You further curled yourself into a ball on your bed. You didn’t remember when you got there. “Actually, maybe you should pick where this time, huh? How’s that sound?”

When you didn’t respond, Adam lowered his arms, his smile fading into a frown.

He debated whether or not to leave you here before you scooted to the farthest side of the bed, turning yourself over to face him but avoiding eye contact as you patted the spot you were just in.

Adam took one glance behind him before he slipped into bed beside you, hands on his tummy as he stared at your ceiling.

The silence was uncomfortable for Adam. He desperately wanted to fill it with some chatter. Without it, it felt as though there was no one with him in the room.

As if you read his mind, your hands hugged his arm, and it numbed his unease, if only for a moment. He extended the time by placing a hand on yours, caressing them with his thumb.

“I don’t want to see this,” you suddenly spoke after a minute.

“Huh?” He looked down at you, still not making eye contact with him.

“Take your mask off.”

He scoffed and turned down your request, “You’re not even looking at me.”

“Take it off,” you repeated more firmly.

“Why?”

“Then I’ll take it off.” You reached out to grab his horns, pulling them upwards. When it didn’t comply, you kneeled on the bed and pulled harder. “How do you take it off?”

“Why do you wanna see me so badly? Just go to sleep already.”

“Not until you take that off.”

“I’ll stay with you until you wake up,” he attempted to bargain.

“Adam.” You gave up on removing his mask yourself. “Take it off.”

He hesitated before sighing heavily, easily tugging it off of his head and tossing it on the nightstand.

With his real face revealed, you were able to look at him. His golden eyes brought you solace, and his human-like features gave you relief.

“There. Better?” he asked bitterly as he averted his eyes from yours. “Now go to sleep.” After that, Adam tried to face his back toward you, but you leaned over and held his face and shoulder, pulling him back. “What is it now—”

“You said you’ll stay with me until I wake up.”

“I will,” he said as if you were doubting him, but he knew you weren’t.

Satisfied with his promise, you stared into the soft glow of his eyes as yours started to grow heavy.

In the last moments of your consciousness, you felt yourself get pulled closer to something soft, and you heard the sound of ruffling as warmth enveloped you.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Max wanting to have sex on Rocky after the gala is over and before Rocky is put away

The Real Prize - Rocky || MV1

Pre-Gala || The Real Prize || Jealousy || Panties || Captivity || Rocky || Escaping || Thighs || Consequences || A Mile High

The storage containers behind the stage were dimly lit, but the shining moment had and gone for the machines that had made history and now they were being tucked away in the dark. Somehow Max knew where his car was before you could even see it, his sure steps guiding you safely between the rest until his livery appeared.

Max tugged you closer and crushed his lips to yours. “Been needing another taste of you,” he hummed as he drew your dress up higher. “Been wanting to do this all year.”

He guided you onto the body of the race car and you leaned back on the halo as he lifted your legs, settling your heels onto the side pod.

“So beautiful…” he mused as he spread your legs wider. He pushed his trousers down enough to free the erection he had been battling since he stole your panties and watched you bite your lip as he buried himself inside you. “Hmm, fits me perfectly.”

“Me or the car, because I’m getting a little jealous here.” Though you were joking, he took it upon himself to clarify as he fucked you in a way he had only imagined.

“You, schatje, always you,” he promised quietly between the gentle kisses he left along your neck. “This is what you do to me, I can’t think clearly when I see you, so beautiful it hurts. You were made for me, look how perfect we are.”

He pulled back enough to look down and see his cock filling you with each stroke, the sight of your union over the red bull livery was almost enough to tip him over, but he was a gentleman, he wouldn’t come until you did.

“We could go to jail for this,” you whispered as you tried to keep from moaning too loudly. “If we get caught.”

“So we don’t get caught,” he stated, reaching into his pocket and fisting your panties. He ran his thumb over your lips and smirked when they parted for him. “This will keep you quiet.”

The scent and taste drove you wild. You could taste Max’s come on the lace and your body burned to have more from him as you gripped the halo tighter and rocked your hips, meeting him stroke for stroke. Your screams certainly would have given you away if it weren’t for the material Max had stuffed in your mouth, muffling them to muted cries.

“I can’t get enough of you,” he rasped as he tugged at his bow, the clothing suddenly all too constricting and hot. “I just want to stay buried here forever.”

You wiped the sheen of sweat on his forehead, brushing it back into his hair and you tugged the dirty blond strands as your pleasure mounted. One heel slipped and you wrapped your leg around his hip instead, driving him deeper. Your hold on the halo faltered as your pussy clenched and it was only Max’s strength that kept you in place as you rode your orgasm out in his arms.

You gasped a deep breath as the lace was ripped out of your mouth and Max sealed his lips over yours to silence it, his tongue dancing with yours. He held off as long as he could, relishing the feel of your walls coating him in your release before he gave into his.

“Hello, is anyone in there?” A voice came from the dark.

Max moved instantly, placing you on your feet and pulling your dress down before he sorted himself out. He combed a hand through his damp hair and turned to face the security man who heard something inside.

“Oh, sorry Mr Verstappen, I didn’t realise it was you.”

“That’s okay, we were just leaving.” Max’s arm curled around your waist and helped with your unsteady steps, guiding back towards the lights.

“Mr Verstappen, wait, sir,” the man rushed to follow and Max gave him an inpatient look as the speakers returned to life and asked everyone to return to their seats. “You forget this.”

You barely stifled your laugh as he was handed his trophy for a third time that evening.

“There’s one other thing, did you notice the large scratch earlier?” He clicked his torch on and shone it at the side pod. The bull had a jagged cut right through the vinyl and your eyes widened.

“No,” Max said with a squeeze to your hip. “But I wouldn’t worry, they will put a new wrap on before it is displayed.”

“Are you sure?” you whispered as you chewed your lip.

“You know, there’s only one person that can get away with scratching the RB19,” he teased as you left the storage area. “You are lucky I love you, schatje.”

“Technically that is your fault,” you defended.

“Was I wearing stilettos?”

“If you weren’t so sexy in that suit I could have resisted you.”

Max smirked as he looked down at you, his hand coming to rest on your cheek as he slowly dipped his head down. Your lips parted eagerly for the kiss but his lips merely hovered above yours until you whined. His smirk grew and his eyes saw the truth as he chuckled. “No you couldn’t.”

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Little Emerald: Meet Mia

Chaggie Single Mom AU

I have a soft spot for Single Mom AUs, okay?

Vaggie: (pulls up in her work truck with lumber in the back) Holy shit.... this house is fancy. (double-check her pen pad) Did I write down the right address?

Charlie: (rushes around the corner wearing a white and pink floral sundress) Hi! You must be Vaggie!

Vaggie: Uh.... yeah... You must be Mrs. Morningstar.

(Mentally: Holy fuck! She's gorgeous!)

Charlie: Oh! No. No, Mrs. Just Ms. Morningstar. But you can call me Charlie!

Vaggie: Alright, Ms. Morningstar... Where do you want me to build this playhouse?

Charlie: (tucks hair behind her ear with one hand while the other points around the back of the house)

(Mentally: Oh...wow...she's so pretty~)

Just in the backyard. There's a flag sticking in the ground where you can build. Is there anything you need from me?

Vaggie: (Mentally: Besides a date this Friday?)

(clears her throat and shakes her head) No, not at all. I'll just get started.

Charlie: (smiles brightly with a slight blush that could be natural or from being in the sun too long) Alright! Sounds good. Let me know if there's anything you need. I'll just be inside.

Vaggie: (simply nods as she walks to the backyard) Gorgeous AND cute??? Well, fuck!

Charlie: (enters the house and rushes over to the kitchen window that oversees the backyard) Shit! She's so handsome and pretty! I wonder if I should have swayed my hips a little.... (smacks her forehead with a loud SLAP) Way to stereotype the lady carpenter as a lesbian. She might not be into women!

(plasters her hands to her cheeks)

Wait... Why do I care if she likes girls? I don't like girls! ......Right? (sees Vaggie stretching out her arms and shoulders as she takes off her plaid over shirt to the tanktop underneath) ............I'm bisexual.....

Vaggie: (huffs) It's too fucking hot today... but at least it's a little more tolerable now. (starts assembling a base for the floor of the playhouse and looks up after having the base assembled to work on the walls and A-frame)

Mia: (standing and watching as she swirls the skirt of her pink dress with her hands behind her back) Hello!

Vaggie: Huh? (Looks back as she sees a little girl that looks like a younger copy of Charlie with bright green eyes) Uh.... Hi? .....I'm assuming that this playhouse is for you?

Mia: (nods excitedly) Mm-hmm! My name's Mia! What's yours?

Vaggie: .....Vaggie.

Mia: It's nice to meet you, Ms. Vaggie! (Gives a little curtsy) Thank you for taking the time to build my play house!

Vaggie: Uh, sure... But I'm getting paid for this, so... not much of a point in thanking me. (turns away as she continues to assemble a wall)

(Mentally: Great... I wasn't expecting to have a kid sitting around and distracting me. Why are kids so awkward?)

Mia: I know, but I can still say "thank you" because I'm really happy you agreed to build it!

Vaggie: Uh-huh.... uh, you're welcome then.

Mia: (continues watching) You have a lot of muscles.

Vaggie: Mm-hmm.... (continues nail gunning the beams together before raising the wall and nailing it in place)

Mia: How did you get so many??? They're so cool!

Vaggie: I work out.

Mia: Work out?

Vaggie:....I lift heavy things

Mia: Oh! So.... it's not like Mommy's Zumba classes?

Vaggie: No.

(Mentally: Holy fuck, Kid, let me work!-)

Charlie: (rushing outside from the back patio whike carrying a pitcher of iced tea) Mia! Sweetie! Why don't you leave Ms. Vaggie alone so she can work, my little emerald. Why don't you go inside and get out of the sun. You're starting to get a little pink on your ears.

Mia: Okay, Mommy. (runs back into the house)

Charlie: I'm so sorry about that. She's such a friendly and curious little girl. Did she bother you too much?

Vaggie: (blinks back a blush as she watches the sun illuminate Charlie's blonde hair like a golden halo) No, not really. She's just a kid being a kid.

Charlie: (sighs in relief and tries tonnot stare at Vaggie's already sweating muscles) T-That's good! Here. It's really getting hot out, so I brought you something cold to drink. (places the jug of iced tea on a small table she brought with her)

Vaggie: Uh.... thanks. I appreciate it.

Charlie: You're welcome! (continues standing and shuffling awkwardly as her eyes flit around the yard in a desperate attempt not to stare) Right! Well, I'll be inside if you need me! (Rushes inside)

(Mentally: STUPID!!! STUPID!!! STUPID!!!)

Mia: (coloring on her table) Ms. Vaggie works out.

Charlie: (trying to look out the window again without getting caught) Yes... Yes, she does....

[sherewrytes]

A sparkle of a moment, Eren x Black F reader

Wanted to see if I can write Fluff for this Christmas season.

The scent of cinnamon candles filled the cozy apartment as you hummed softly, focused on the tiny halo you were crafting for Seren’s angel costume. The warm glow of the Christmas tree in the corner lit up the room, its ornaments sparkling like the excitement in your daughter’s eyes. Seren sat cross-legged on the rug nearby, her little hands clutching a piece of paper with her lines scribbled in bright crayon.

“Okay, baby,” you said, glancing up from the delicate golden wire and tulle in your hands. “One more time. Remember, use your big voice so everyone can hear what a perfect angel you are.”

Seren nodded enthusiastically, her curls bouncing under the dim light. She took a deep breath, puffing out her cheeks in exaggerated preparation before chirping, “Peace on Earth and good wool toward men!”

You stifled a laugh, biting your lip. “Goodwill, sweetheart. ‘Goodwill toward men.’”

“Good wool?” Seren’s tiny brows furrowed in confusion.

“Goodwill, Seren,” Eren’s deep voice chimed in as he entered the room, balancing a Target bag in one hand and a beaming Seren in the other. “Though, honestly, you could probably get away with it. You’re cute enough to make wool sound festive.”

You smiled at the sight of him, his usual cool demeanor softened by the way Seren had her little arms wrapped tightly around his neck. Eren set her down gently, ruffling her hair before holding up a pair of fluffy white wings from the bag. “Alright, princess, check these out! Daddy found the most angelic wings in the whole store.”

Seren gasped, her tiny hands flying to her cheeks. “They’re soooo pretty!” She reached for the wings and twirled around the room with them, her little feet nearly tripping over the tutu of her costume. Then she stopped suddenly, her face scrunching up.

“But…they’re not sparkly,” she pouted, holding them out toward you as though you could magically fix them.

Eren sighed dramatically, crouching down to her level. “Not sparkly enough for my superstar angel, huh?”

“No,” Seren said solemnly, shaking her head.

You smirked, leaning against the table. “Well, Daddy’s got his work cut out for him. Good luck, Mr. Perfect Wings.”

Later that night, with Seren fast asleep, Eren sat hunched over the kitchen table, rhinestones, glitter glue, and sequins scattered around him like an arts-and-crafts tornado. You peeked in, biting back a laugh as you caught him squinting at the tiny gems.

“You know, I didn’t think arts and crafts were your thing,” you teased, stepping behind him to rest your chin on his shoulder.

“They’re not,” he muttered, carefully pressing a rhinestone onto the edge of one wing. “But my baby girl deserves to shine brighter than every other angel on that stage.”

You smiled, kissing his cheek. “She’s lucky to have a dad like you.”

He glanced up at you, his lips curving into a small smile. “Yeah? Well, she’s lucky to have a mom like you, making halos and teaching her how to say ‘goodwill.’”

“Good wool,” you corrected with a grin.

Eren chuckled softly, brushing some glitter off his hands. “She’s going to kill it tomorrow. You’ll see.”

The next morning arrived with the excitement of Christmas just around the corner, and the air was filled with a sense of magic. You awoke early to the sound of tiny feet padding across the living room. Eren, still asleep beside you, groaned softly as Seren clambered over the bed, her green eyes wide and sparkling with anticipation.

“Mommy, Mommy! Is today the day I’m an angel?” she asked, her voice high-pitched with excitement.

You blinked sleepily at the clock, noticing the time. “Yes, sweetie. But you’ve gotta get dressed first, okay?”

“Okay!” Seren cheered, running off toward the bathroom to get ready.

Eren groaned again, cracking open one eye. “Is she really awake already?”

You smiled and gently kissed his cheek. “Yeah, and I think she’s more excited about being an angel than Christmas itself.”

Eren stretched lazily, rubbing his eyes, before turning to you with a grin. “It’s her first big performance. I get it.” He yawned. “I’ll make coffee.”

By the time you finished getting Seren dressed, her angel costume was the picture of perfection. The wings now sparkled with glitter and rhinestones, the halo sitting crookedly atop her head, as if it, too, had been rushed by excitement. Seren twirled around in the mirror, admiring herself.

“Mommy, I’m soooo sparkly!” she declared, her green eyes shining even brighter than the gems on her wings.

“You sure are, baby girl,” you replied, smoothing out the edges of her dress. “You’re going to steal the show today.”

When you and Seren arrived at the daycare center, Eren had already secured the best seats in the audience. As soon as you spotted him, he waved you over with his signature grin, a little less relaxed than usual with the weight of his proud fatherhood showing.

“I can’t believe how fast she’s growing,” he murmured, his voice thick with sentiment as you sat down.

You leaned against him, resting your head on his shoulder. “I know. It feels like just yesterday she was a tiny thing in my arms.”

Seren’s daycare teacher led the little ones to the stage, herding them into their designated spots with the precision of a drill sergeant. Seren immediately darted to her spot at the front, her head swiveling to find her parents in the crowd. When her green eyes met yours and Eren’s, her face broke into the most radiant smile.

“There she is,” Eren whispered, squeezing your hand. “My angel.”

As the play began, Seren’s voice rang out a bit timidly at first, but then, with a burst of confidence, she shouted, “Peace on Earth and good wool toward men!”

The audience erupted into laughter, and you could see Seren beam under the stage lights, her eyes catching every ounce of attention in the room. You and Eren were the loudest cheerleaders, clapping, whistling, and shouting words of encouragement. Eren even held up his phone to snap a few blurry pictures while he clapped with one hand.

“Go Seren! You’re doing great!” you cheered, waving wildly. Seren, halfway through her lines, gave a tiny wave back and then completely forgot the rest of what she was supposed to say. Instead, she turned to face you both and shouted, “I love you, Mommy and Daddy!”

The crowd laughed even harder, and Seren’s face lit up, full of pride as she finished her performance in her own unique way.

Afterward, as you all gathered in the lobby for cookies and punch, Eren crouched down and pulled Seren into a tight hug. “You were amazing, princess,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Seren wrapped her tiny arms around his neck, resting her head against his shoulder. “You were the loudest cheerleader, Daddy.”

“And you’re my shining star,” he replied, glancing over at you with a proud smile.

You joined them, pulling Seren into a group hug, all of you smiling as your little angel basked in her own Christmas magic.

After the pageant, the family made their way to the local ice cream shop, the streets alive with Christmas lights twinkling in the cold night air. Seren bounced eagerly in Eren’s arms as she greeted everyone who passed, her face beaming like the brightest star.

“Merry Christmas!” she shouted with a grin so wide it seemed to light up the street, her green eyes sparkling with the magic of the day. “Merry Christmas!” she repeated, waving at a couple walking hand-in-hand, who chuckled and waved back.

Eren laughed softly, adjusting his grip on her as they entered the ice cream parlor. “She’s got more Christmas cheer than I’ve ever seen.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with pride. “She’s a little ray of sunshine, isn’t she?”

They made their way to the counter, where Seren stood on tiptoe, peering up at the menu with intense concentration. “I want…uhhh…all the sprinkles, Mommy!”

Eren chuckled and turned to the counter worker, who nodded knowingly. “Two cones, then? One for you and one for her?”

“Yep,” Eren said with a grin, “and extra sprinkles.”

After a few moments, they were sitting at a cozy booth by the window, watching the snowflakes fall as the Christmas lights twinkled outside. Eren pulled Seren onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her as he handed her the cone. She took it eagerly, her eyes lighting up with joy as the cold treat met her lips.

“Mmm, I love ice cream!” Seren said, her voice muffled as she stuffed the cone into her mouth.

You laughed and took a bite of your own cone. “I see you do, sweetie. Just be careful not to spill it everywhere.”

Seren glanced up at Eren, then at you, her green eyes twinkling with mischief. “Mommy, Daddy, I want to feed you!”

Eren raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a playful smile. “Oh, you do, huh? Well, okay. Go ahead.”

Without hesitation, Seren scooped a big spoonful of ice cream and tried to feed it to you, giggling as she held the spoon with both hands. “Here, Mommy! Eat it!”

You leaned in, taking the spoon from her with a grin. “Okay, okay, I’m eating it. You’re so generous, Seren.”

Eren watched the exchange with a fond smile, his eyes soft as he glanced between you and Seren. Then, to your surprise, he took a spoonful of his own ice cream and held it out to you. “Here’s your turn,” he said with a wink.

You laughed, accepting the spoon and teasing, “You’re both going to spoil me with ice cream, huh?”

“We’ll spoil you with all the love in the world, sweetheart,” Eren replied, his voice low and warm.

Seren’s head suddenly leaned against Eren’s chest, her eyes heavy with the weight of the day. “Daddy, I love you,” she mumbled, her tiny hands clutching the sides of her cone.

Eren pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I love you too, baby. More than anything in this world.”

You watched the scene in quiet adoration, your heart full as you leaned against Eren, feeling the warmth of your little family in the cozy booth.

“And I love you both,” you whispered, glancing at Eren and then at Seren, who had already drifted off to sleep, her ice cream forgotten in her lap.

Eren kissed your forehead, his arm still around Seren as he pulled her closer, not caring that his own cone had long since melted. “Merry Christmas, Y/N,” he murmured.

“Merry Christmas,” you whispered back, content, as you all sat together—your hearts full, the night perfect, and the snow falling softly outside.

[jujutsukgojo]

Sleepyhead

Dabi x Reader

Summary: You wished him good luck every time. Should you have kept them to yourself and let him die? tw: minor character death, major bnha manga/anime spoilers, implied abuse, attempted su*cide, tried to edit (pray)

Sleepyhead has finally woken up. He stumbles out of the room and looks at you. His eyes are crystal blue haloed with fluttery white lashes. Now that he’s awake, he’s prettier than when he was asleep even though Mr. Sunny disagreed with his looks. Mr. Sunny said something about him being beyond disfigured from the fire. To you, he’s still strangely handsome. You continue to chew on a bag of chips against Mr. Sunny’s wishes. “Hi, Sleepyhead. Nice to meet you.”

  When he frowns, you immediately go on the defense. “Don’t tell on me, okay?”

He looks at you confused and nods. He hasn't talked yet, unfortunately; hopefully he can. It must have taken a lot for him to wake up and move around. It'd be a shame if he couldn't speak. 

“They’re over there.” You point down the hall, and he takes off in that direction. You don’t know why Sleepyhead is so eager to meet Mr. Sunny and the rest. He’s never seen them since he’s been asleep this whole time. In fact, you came in at the same time he did and never has he woken up. It's a bit of a running joke. All of the kids draw pictures of him being sleeping beauty. Those drawings are even in his room, wishing for him to wake up. So, seeing him actually move is weird. You have watched him grow and now he's mobile. It's hard to explain why his open eyes throw you off.

You overhear that one girl be her own version of a welcoming committee. She calls for Mr. Sunny. You quickly finish your snack and put the wrapper in the band of your pants. Mr. Sunny walks by. He stops and looks at you. The saltiness of the chips stick to your throat.

  “What’re you doing, little one?” His voice holds a fake sweetness. You curl your toes in your slippers, hoping for something to ground you. “Nothing. Sleepyhead just walked by.”

“Oh! Did you say hello?” You nod. His face looks like the sun but underneath is evil. Yet somehow, there is an even greater evil behind him, behind this whole operation. “What did he say?”

“Nothing.”

“Hm. Open your mouth.” He looks at you like he's appraising you. You swallow and give a thin, shallow smile. The empty bag of chips becomes more obvious to you as it touches your body. Your sweat slightly sticks to it. 

“Where am I?” The teenage Sleepyhead asks. He whispers a question of his voice and caresses his throat. Mr. Sunny turns his attention to him. “Todoroki! Nice to see you. Come with me and everything will be explained,”

Your hands are behind your back. He stops and looks at you. “Show me what’s behind you, my dear.”

You show him your hands then turn around in a circle. “Mhm. Open your mouth for me.” 

Your heart rate speeds up. There are still some crumbs in your mouth. Sleepyhead interrupts him. “What’re you doing? I’m serious! I need to see my family. Mom, Fuyumi, Natsu, Shouto, my dad!”

  As he says this, he makes eye contact with you. “My apologies, Touya Todoroki. You’ve been through a lot. I should prioritize that. Follow me.”

 Sleepyhead walks behind him. In the distance Mr. Sunny asks, “What was she doing when you saw her?”

Fear settles in your stomach. “Nothing. Just standing there.” Before he goes in the room, Sleepyhead makes eye contact with you. You nod and leave the area, not wanting to be anywhere near Mr. Sunny. 

Quickly, you dispose of the wrapper, take a drink of water then brush your teeth. Laying on your bed you draw another picture for Sleepyhead. There's no sun, sky, or a moon. Instead, there is a familiar building that you loved before you were swept up here. You color it with open doors and a red curtain in the back. On the stage is a small drawing of the familiar woman who sang beautifully. Sleepyhead will like this. You put him on a bench next to the building with a bag of chips in his hand. The next time you have them, you will give them to him as a thank you.

  Suddenly, the building shook. You gasped and sat up in your bed. Dust from the ceiling falls. Not feeling safe, you get up and leave the room. The hallway is warm like when you open an oven. You head deeper into it, confused on why it’s so hot. At the end of it is a bright blue, consuming light. It eats away the walls and ceiling. There is only one person in the facility that can do this.

  You gasp and head in the other direction as it travels in every way it can. At the end of the hall is a window. If you can get to it, you can jump out and be free. The problem is, is that you tried that once and it wouldn’t budge without Mr. Sunny’s permission or at least a strong enough quirk. You bang on it and try to open it. The building gets hotter and hotter. “Open, open, open!” 

  You hear people scream and Mr. Sunny yells for a straight line. His voice is hoarse, and he’s obviously hurt with the groans and hisses he makes. They’re going to leave you? 

  The banging, pushing, shoving, the window isn’t helping at all. Its steel frame refuses to let the window move. The heat increases and sweat pours off of you. Smoke surrounds the area, even the outside. They’re leaving you.

Suddenly, you hear footsteps behind you. You turn to see Sleepyhead walk through the flames. “Where’s the door, dolly?”

  He stands on the fluttering blue light. You tap on the window behind you. Sleepyhead frowns but heads straight anyway. “Move.”

You follow his direction and shriek when the panel flies off the wall and the glass is melted off. Sleepyhead exits the window. You can’t make it across without hurting yourself. How is he able to? Ah, that's right. He cannot feel pain. Before he can leave, you lean and grab his shoulders. He looks back at you with furrowed brows and misty eyes that are not from physical pain. Without even asking him, you press your weight on his shoulders and jump out the window, missing the embers wanting to expand and the melted glass painted on the grass.

  He growls and swings to pick you up. You're safely in his very warm arms. “Get off of me.” He puts you down on a safe spot and takes off. You run too and when he sees you follow, he pushes you down. “They’re over there!”

  “You don’t understand…”

“Get away from me!” He runs again. You follow him much to his annoyance. Then, you see which direction he’s headed. “No, this way!”

He yanks his arm back. “I am not going back there. I have a family, friends, people that love and need me. I am not like you guys.”

It stings. “That way,” You point to his set direction. “Is where the doctor is and where the big boss goes sometimes. If they see you, they’ll grab you. I know a good way out.”

  Interested, he follows you. There’s a buzzing noise over your heads. You gasp and grab his hand. You run to the trees. “W-why are you so fast?”

“Nomu! That’s what we’re gonna be if we don’t run!” Sleepyhead looks at the sky behind him. There are large bodies with their brains showing, flying around. They look under themselves and scout, no doubt for the two runaways. Your heart is pounding in your ears as a white one goes right above you, its eyes barely missing you. 

  Finally, you reach the edge of the cliff. A few tufts of grass surround the dirt. Beyond that is a river that gently flows. You’ve made it to this part before and know what’s at the end. “Can you swim?”

“Um, yeah? Not the best, though.” He looks down with fearful eyes.

You hold his hand tighter. “Hang onto me.” You grab his hand and jump. He screams as the two of you descend into the cold water. You hang onto his hand as you travel through the water. It chills you down to your bones but it is better than the alternative. If Doctor Garaki talks to Mr. Sunny and finds out that the two of you are gone, it could mean that the big guy, All For One, or something, could come.

The water pushes you two around and neither of you let go of each other. With grace, you dodge debris and pull him closer, encircling your arms around him as the rushing water guides you away. 

  Pebbles curl underneath your fingers when you pull yourself out with Sleepyhead’s hand in yours. He coughs and breathes heavily. “We have to keep moving. Down here is a street.”

“A street,” He coughs. “To where?”

“People that aren’t them. I remember seeing it.” You spotted it when you were pulled out of the water by a flying nomu. You have yet to touch the pavement of the street or smell the lavish perfumes from the boutique at the corner or get a good look in the pet store that is a few doors down. Colorful clothes and expensive cellphones have been next to the facility where children were held for years. 

He gets up shakily and goes with you, his hand still in yours. The wind blows against you, chilling your body through your wet clothes. You gasp but keep on with the plan anyway. You and Sleepyhead have gotten far. There’s no turning back now.

  You push the tree branches and leaves out of the way and show that you were right. The street is busy with people and life. The sun shines bright on the passing people who go about their daily lives, not once thinking that there is a monstrosity not too far from them. 

  “I…I know this. I know this! I can’t be far from home!” Sleepyhead yanks his hand away from yours and goes to the left. You follow him. 

“What? No! Go away. This is my family. Go to your own.” He pushes you down to the ground, the pavement scraping against your palms. Someone scolds him. “Young man, control yourself! Now apologize.”

  He growls and clenches his fists. “Sorry.” The old lady nods and helps you up then leaves. You notice how she didn’t even bother to comment on both of your appearances. Clearly, there is something wrong with the two kids in front of her, yet she walks away.

“Happy?” 

You shrug. Sleepyhead turns around and continues to his home. Once again, you run behind him. At first he growls in frustration but ignores you in the end, except for running faster and using evasive maneuvers to lose you. Of course, they all fail.

  The soles of your feet take a toll. Now that the adrenaline is wearing down, you’re beginning to feel the weight of everything. This is enough physical activity for a lifetime. Thankfully, you’re not the only one who feels that way. Sleepyhead slows down to a halt. He’s breathing heavily and has his hands on his knees. “Come on. If you stop, it’ll be harder to finish.”

  He pushes himself up and jogs. The two of you come across a street that no doubt belongs to the rich. There are kominkas and modern homes next to each other, all different yet have a lavish quality. It’s something that you know you’d never be able to afford. It’s a miracle you’re even here. 

  “Are one of these yours?” You shake your head no. “You can’t,” He gasps for breath. “Come with me.”

“Where do I go?” 

He cocks his head. “Fine, fine.” He grabs your hand roughly and limps to another house that isn’t quite as big as the kominka down the road. Sleepyhead brings you to the gate. “Knock on the door, alright?”

Before he leaves, you say, “Goodbye Sleepyhead, and I wish you good luck.”

“My name’s Touya.”

“I’m (Y/n).” He looks back at you. “Thanks for everything, doll.” He limps around the corner. You have a small smile and flutters in your tummy. Taking a deep breath, you push the button on the gate and it opens. Your legs are aching, and your feet are blistered. Whoever owns this house must be good if Sleepyhead dropped you here.

You knock on the door.

----

You walk home from work with the streetlights that are just now flickering on to guide you. Right as you are rubbing your shoulders, you hear voices to your right range in pitch and volume. You tread along the sidewalk and hope not to run into anyone unsavory. Suddenly, right when you come across an alley, it erupts into flames that create a woosh sound. 

The heat is intense and consuming. People scream so loud it echoes on the brick buildings’ walls. There is nothing you can do for them except watch in horror. Some of the people move around frantically, and others roll on the ground.  Lucky for them, their pain is soon gone as the flames ended them in seconds.

  You are at the end of the alley, clutching your purse for dear life. Smoke blows your way as the assailant walks closer to you. His black boots don't melt and his trench flows behind him, letting him look like a true villain, even without his dastardly deeds

  Now he is feet from you, you remember who he is. He has changed a little but looking at his face for three years straight lets you recognize him anywhere. His eyes are still jewels and have hardened, purple scars have spread, and his hair is dyed. He has staples rather than the bonded skin he left with.

And yet, you see him even though it’s been years. "Are you scared, doll?" His voice is deeper and smoother than it was last time you saw him. 

You shake your head no. He doesn't smile but cocks his head to the side. He is letting you go. Before you can leave, you turn back to him and say, “Wish you good luck, Sleepyhead.” 

Nothing else needed to be said between you two. Not even a nod or wave. There is a sense of familiarity, a camaraderie, a bond, that was created in a facility designed to abduct and trick children into nomus and spare quirks for All For One. There is nothing needed when it comes to you two.

-----

Lately, there has been a terrorist organization that has grown drastically. Among them is a blue flame user named Dabi. Without seeing him, you know who it is and have a feeling of what he is doing. He had dropped you off at his neighbor’s house and went to his family. He made sure you knew about them and how desperate he was to go back to them. If he has turned into this, it has to do with them.

 On every screen is a shirtless Sleepyhead. He is covered in staples and scars. He talks about an unfair justice system and fake heroes. You look around and see everyone’s reactions to him.

He goes on about his backstory and doesn't bring up the facility, only Endeavor and his crappy parenting. You don't know whether to be offended or not. No, this is a wish for good luck. Because if he did, you'd be in deep shit. So instead, you nod and say, “Good luck, Sleepyhead.”

  You walk away and head home, not paying any more attention to the man on the screen or even to the people who whisper the name, Dabi.  There’s no need for any comments or corrections. At this rate, you may see him again.

This thought occurred again when he decided to attempt suicide. It was painful to see that because you saw Sleepyhead still and not Dabi. You saw Touya, who ran away with you and the one who didn't tell anyone about the potato chips, and the one who spared you from his flames twice. You can't listen to the fear and cries of others anymore. You sit on the bench with your hands in your lap, holding the wish of good luck. It is his if he wants it. And with this oncoming explosion, he doesn't want it this time.

In the fortress of U.A, you can’t do anything but have him on your mind, and the question of if your wishes meant anything.

---

Not too long after, you’re called to go to a special secured room. It’s one for the extremely injured patients or the dangerous. You knock first then open the door. Inside is a vault with a charred person inside. There is no one in the room but there were visitors before your arrival. You spot the vase with pretty blue flowers in it, a food tray with what looks like a single soba noodle lying in the trash, and a book on the table. 

  "Sleepyhead?" The machine beeps in response. In the doctor's notes, it says he is only able to speak for a few minutes a day. Since his family was here, those minutes are probably used up. 

You enter deeper into the room and stand in front of Sleepyhead. "I'm only here to get your vitals, I won't be long." Another beep. You check the machine then gently touch him. He cannot feel pain, but it is still considerate to be careful. His skin is completely charred, his fluffy hair is gone. He may not be able to physically feel pain, however, that doesn't mean he cannot feel the burden of it. The fact that he knows his condition is painful enough. 

After a few short minutes, a hoarse voice says, “Should’ve kept your wishes for yourself. They did me nothing.”

Sleepyhead's eyes follow you. “They were yours, nonetheless.”

There's a deep humorless chuckle. His voice sounds slurred almost. His tongue is probably burnt again. “You aren’t grossed out, dollface? Not even a little?”

You shake your head no. “I’ve seen worse,” You settle down on the chair that is to his left. “That one was you, by the way. When you first came in, you looked a lot like this but a little worse.” You hear a shuddered breath. “This is the most we’ve ever talked, ain’t it?”

“I think? When we were running, we might've talked more?” It's crazy how that is. You feel connected to him but have only spoken a few words to each other.

“(Y/n),” You don’t comment on how he remembers your name despite only telling him once. “I messed up, messed up badly. I’m dying.”

“Isn’t that how you wanted it?”

“Not now. Not when…everything is getting clearer.” You raise your brow. “Clearer?”

He takes a deep breath. "I hate him, that old bastard. But it cost me my life and siblings. Everything could’ve been different. There's still so much I hav-" He coughs. 

"Don't waste your energy, Sleepyhead."

  He sighs. "It feels good to talk about it," You nod, encouraging him to continue if he wants. Sleepyhead looks to the ceiling and continues. "His favorite food is soba, just like me. We have the same favorite color, too. Dollface, I messed up. I broke my family." You don’t know who exactly he’s talking about, but it isn’t Endeavor. Endeavor doesn’t look like the type to like soba.

  "That wasn't just you, Touya. You were just the biggest crack in the glass house." You write down his numbers. "Honestly, Sleepyhead, I think this was bound to happen. Your home was built on glass when it’s not supposed to be, I think."

"So positive." He wheezed. You look at him, not moving from your seat. "No one can change the past, it’s set in stone and the future is just bare pages. That is how I think of it at least.”

He listens. “You can’t rewrite history but you can learn from it. Bear that burden in your current and write the lessons on the future pages. Endeavor made his bed and will lie in it. You can too, if you want."

 After a few beeps, you speak. "I think it's evil of them to let you suffer though. You should die in peace. You got to say and do what you wanted." His eyes trail to you. "What would you like, Sleepyhead?"

"Bare pages."

"What if it ends up the same?" 

His chest rises and falls. Sleepyhead lifts one finger to you. "It was you, right, angel?" You nod. He was bound to piece it together. It's just unfortunate that he figured it out eleven years later. Sad that on death’s door he figured out who you were.

"Can I still wish you good luck?" He can no longer talk today, so he'll blink.

You get up and walk to him. "Then I will see you later, Sleepyhead." You kiss his nose, just as you did last time. He looks shocked at you then closes his eyes. You will see him again, just like before. However, you are sure to piece him together right this time. With every wish good luck to pump his heart and organs again, every stitch to his skin is more careful. You don't have pressure or evil behind you, breathing on your neck. 

  Now, you can take your time piecing Sleepyhead together and hopefully, it won't feel weird seeing his eyes open.

[whorediaries-09]

don't blame me;

pairing- priest!remus lupin x reader warning(s)- illusions to sex, dark themes. (let me know if i should add more). [this is a dark fic. your media consumption is your choice and i'm not responsible for it. please do not continue under cut if you're uncomfortable.] a/n- i found this in my drafts. i have no idea why this wasn't published yet but okay.

ps- not using my regular taglist since this is a topic many people can be uncomfortable with.

little train inspiration (for god's sake please use headphones) 700 followers celebration post.

' and baby, for you, i would fall from grace, just to touch your face. '

remus slowly read the verse, the thick spine of the bible tucking into the flesh of his thighs.

'amen,' he said, speaking his final lines of the verse. the sound from his lips was blinded over the noise of the hinges of the church door opening. he snapped his head, eyes darting towards the entrance. the soft sunlight peaked through the glass, creating a beautiful kaleidoscopic effect.

'hello?' his voice echoed through the empty church. when his eyes met yours, he couldn't stop but dawn his eyes upon yours. you were clad in the white clothes you regularly wore when you went to the church. but there was something different around it. perhaps an extra sinch at the waist which highlighted the curve of your breasts. or was it the sunlight behind you making a halo like effect which made you look like an descending from heaven.

'oh, it's you,' he gathered, his fingers raking over the bible, closing the hardcover. 'come on in, then,'

'am i interrupting anything?' you asked. your voice was soft, like cool breeze blowing after the first rainfall. he chuckled.

'no, no you're not interrupting anything,' his statement ended, clashed with the sound of the door closing. you walked towards him, twiddling with your thumbs, your eyes transfixed on the statue of jesus.

'do you need something? i can leave you in peace if you prefer.' he said, standing up and dusting his clothes. he wasn't wearing his usual robes. he had opted for gray slacks paired with a soft blue shirt.

'no it's fine,' you walked towards him. 'i actually like some company, when i pray,' he smiled, his gaze smoothening down on your form.

'no no, i understand,' he said walking towards you, his thumb raking over the rosemary beads in his palm. 'lots of people prefer company in the church. physical company anyway. he,' his index pointed towards the stature of jesus, 'is always here.'

'a constant companion,' you said, recalling his words from a few months ago. 'i remember that. you enlightened me with that information during our gospel interpretation session.' he chuckled softly,

'i'm surprised you remember i said that. that was quite a few months ago,' you nodded, twisting your fingers together.

'speaking of which,' he whispered, so as to not let his voice echo. 'erm, you have been missing for a few weeks.' you stare at him, your eyes glossy.

'are you mad? that i've been missing?' he moves forward, waving his hands quickly reassuring,

'no no, not mad at all. i just,' he pauses, as if choosing his words carefully, 'missed your presence. and our discussions afterwards.' you let his words register into your senses. it's quiet as the sun settles, the blue hue of the sky meddling into a beautiful orange.

'there are other people who come to the church, mr. lupin.' he takes a deep breathe. it's serene, the way his name spills off your tongue.

'yes, but it gets quite boring with the same old people and the same old interpretations. you're intelligent...you're curious. i enjoy your fresh air of understanding.'

'you don't mean that.' you laugh. he sighs, letting his tongue dart over his teeth.

'oh no, i mean that,' he twiddles with his thumb, running his fingers through his locks with his other hand. he rubs his neck, drawing your attention to a small patch of ink on his neck.

'may i ask you the reason of your absence? it's none of my business of course,' his stale amber eyes pierce into you, as if trying to scan for answers.

'i got a few days off work. so i wanted to go on a little vacation.' you say.

'oh, i see, i'm glad you're out there having some fun. i'd do the same in your position. especially with the weather we've been having recently,' he emphasizes. his eyes wander about, as if searching for words, looking for phrases to let the conversation continue. 'i understand your need for freedom.'

you let the words hang in the air, tasting the freshness of the newly spoken sentences. you watch his nicely polished shoes, before you bite your tongue, meeting his eyes, allowing yourself to drown in the burnt amber color of them.

'do you mind it? the freedom? the fun?' he stands silent, as if speechless. it was extremely difficult to keep a man like remus lupin dumbfoundedly silent.

'no,' he says, 'i don't particularly mind it. i've...dedicated my life to this... this is my calling.' he laughs a little, a bark like laughter echoing through the walls. 'besides, i live my life through hearing your escapades.'

'i think you should live life a little. i'm saying this because i consider you my friend.'

'you do?' he says, softly biting his beautiful pink lips. 'well i consider you a friend too.' you nod.

'not many, erm, consider me other than someone who's a priest or think of any... friendly interactions, so... i appreciate that very much.'

you twiddle with your thumb, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. your mind floods with screams as you think of the next question you want to ask him. your heart thumps loudly in your chest, the heat of the blood curving through every inch of your body.

'can i ask you a question?'

'of course, you can ask me anything.'

'have you kissed anyone before?' it's vague, short yet straight forward. a slight pink tint overcomes his pale skin, his tongue tying up in knots before he processes his answer.

'oh, i- yes. i have kissed people before.' he licks his lips. 'though, in secret. we're not...uh meant to have relationships but... everybody needs company...sometimes.' you hum softly at his answer, minutely surprised at the lack of a reaction. then, you frame your next question, almost like a child so free of sin. you are, if partly so.

'do you consider it a bad thing mr. lupin?'

'no,' he laughs. 'i don't consider it a bad thing. i enjoy your curiosity.' he moves forward, a few painful inches away from you. it's as if he can feel the heat from your body. he enjoys it. 'and, neither do i think you're going to tell on me or anything, but yes, i have had companies of a different nature, too.'

the gasp ends in your throat. it's as if he reads your mind.

'i'm not such an extremist that i condemn that kind of thing. carnal desires are...human. the lord created us with them. so why should we deny ourselves?'

'isn't it wrong? a sin? perhaps you... don't mean it.' you say.

'no, i do mean it. to want intimacy is such an intricately human thing it isn't...wrong to want it or engage in it.'

'i've wanted intimacy, desired for it. for so long, mr. lupin, but i find myself stranded. because nobody expresses it back. perhaps you can tell me how it feels, with your experience of the humane carnal desire for intimacy,'

'oh.. well we've established that we're friends but... is that really something you should be asking a priest? you're a curious little thing aren't you?' you smile paired with a little nod of your head. you truly are curious.

'well,' he pauses, looking into your eyes, trying to search for something. 'if you must know, i haven't had any complaints. i've been told i give a rather...satisfactory performance.' he laughs. 'but, it has been quite some time.'

'oh. how long?'

'almost eight months so uh..nearly about a year, roughly,' he whispers, as you move closer. you're close enough for his warm breath fan over you, letting goosebumps kiss your skin.

'i think... i'll also be a satisfactory performer in bed,' you say. he laughs his eyebrow tilting.

'oh you think you are? your confidence is very cute.' he says, moving closer. you watch his pupils dilate, as the distance decreases between your bodies. something takes over him, as his breathing turns erratic, his heart palpitating. 'although,' he continues, 'the matter of one's performance in bed is highly subjective.'

'i can show you, the performance. i want to feel the intimacy, how it feels to be wanted, mr. lupin.' you say, almost begging. his hands twitch and your body aches for the touch of someone you've never felt before.

'i guess i'm sure you would like to find out, but...we shouldn't... we really shouldn't,' he feels his nerves turning shoddy as tries to not drown into the depth of your eyes. he says it, trying to convince himself more than you. but how can he when you look so pretty, like dew strewn across fresh grass. you jut out your lower lip.

'don't you find me pretty mr. lupin?' his eyes widen, his palm cradling your cheek. his thumb runs over your cheek and he enjoys the warm flush of your skin upon his touch, the goosebumps on your kissing every inch of your body.

'no, you are very beautiful. i mean it. apart from your intelligence, your beautiful mind is what...drew me to you.' he watches you melt into his touch and words and knits his eyebrows. 'but, we can't, we really can't, someone could just walk in.'

perhaps that's what excites you. the idea of someone walking in, the idea of somebody catching you. perhaps it's the sin that excites you.

'please,' you beg, your eyes glossy with an unsatiated lust, the carnal desire for intimacy, for his touch. 'please, remus, i need to know.' he takes a deep breathe, as the warm blood rushes between his legs.

he grabs your face, touching his temple with yours. 'fuck it,' he whispers, capturing his lips with yours. he's the priest, he needs to enlighten you with the knowledge you beg for, the experience you beg for.

perhaps it's sinful, but when his tongue meets yours, swallowing the sounds from your mouth, there's no sweeter innocence than his gentle sin. he'll be a poison ivy just for you, just to worship you at the shrine of his sins.

[thepunkmuppet]

costumes / looks I desperately need gerard way to wear on stage (add your own in reblogs!!)

greek statue, he’s fully painted white including his hair with a white toga with a golden wreath thing on his head. I just think that would look sick

police uniform covered in blood

straight up zombie with full on green decaying gory make up

one of the heathers from heathers

either the blue cheerleader outfit from the i’m not okay mv or the iconic red ones from teenagers. then we’d have a little trio!

ghostface. possibly cunty ghostface as a treat

vanya from umbrella academy - young version with the school girl fit and black mask OR the all white comic version of course

also number five from umbrella academy (classic school boy fit)

this sounds weird but I think this would be really cool and meta for wwwy - a stereotypical mcr fan / emo. as in with that one black parade t shirt, heavy eyeliner, black nails, side swept emo fringe, studded bracelets and belts, skinny black jeans, vans or converse. again a very meta concept, after their old person looks in 2022 I can really see them doing this as a whole band this year and I would loooove to finally see gerard in the fashion style that’s so associated with him and his music

howl from howl’s moving castle

possibly also sophie from howl’s moving castle

slenderman

literally just satan. like the most stereotypical devil, give them fully painted red skin, horns, fangs, yellow or black eyes, maybe even goat legs. probably with a majestic black suit or something, or for a succubus vibe a black flowy dress with a slit down the leg. now that I think about it, this would be a SICK wwwy look to shock us all, esp if ray mikey and frank all dressed as other demons or the souls of the damned or some shit.

peni parker - he made her!!

question mark jumper from doctor who

also missy from doctor who omg

jane doe from ride the cyclone, possibly with added marionette or cracked porcelain makeup like in some renditions

classic majestic white-robed angel, with enormous fake wings and maybe even sparkly gold makeup and a big gold halo. also would be cool in all black, or all white but covered in blood (red, gold, or black, all would look cool)

buffy summers in prophecy girl, except he also has blood all over his neck from where the master bit her. I hope he’s watched btvs I think he would very much enjoy it this look would fit with their vampire vibe sooooo well

classic frankenstein’s monster

mothman. not only is he a heartthrob but he’s also a hunched goblin cryptid to me. the duality of man (he/theys)

jane prentiss from the magnus archives. if you don’t know she is a living flesh hive of sentient worms, she’s decaying and full of holes. again with all the nasty decaying rotting prosthetic makeup plus THE RED DRESS!!!

mr darcy vibes, sopping wet regency man with a big puffy white t shirt

opposite side of that, fuck it give him a full on ballroom gown

henry creel from stranger things (pre-vecna, nurse outfit)

any disney princess

crowley from good omens. my man looks GOOD in those anthony janthony aah sunglasses he has

cute flowy summer dress with like a flowery pattern. either go cottagecore with it and have flowers in his hair, or go full white soccer mum and put him in huge cunty sunglasses a massive straw sun hat with a ribbon on it

all-black cowboy!!!! the fact I’ve never seen him in a cowboy hat is actual sacrilege. also would very much appreciate an all-pink sequin studded cowboy

any alice in wonderland character, especially alice herself, the classic disney movie look with the blue dress and the bow in the hair. he would also do a great chesire cat (spooky big grin makeup paired with his weird ass dramatic facial expressions?? inspired) or a super extravagant queen / king / knave of hearts. also 100000% the mad hatter omfg, he was BORN to do a jefferson from once upon a time look!!

[thewolfno11-blog-blog]

Read chapter 83, WTF

jefsdhfie.bfvk.esngvnlKkvgnek. EXCUSE ME WHAT?!?!?!. THE HELL DID I JUST READ. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

*One hour later*

Okay..... I am.... calm now....... what a way to end the Sloth arc. More undercut.

First, thanks, Marco. You literally messed up everything. I know you saw that black halo on my son's head. That's your fault. Pointing fingers aside, it seems our favorite priest has truly fallen. You could clearly see how his miracle was tainted, aside from the fact he attacked his friends and colleagues. Honestly, not quite sure how I feel about that. Damn, the exorcist really did fall. I do feel bad for Leah, Barbara, and Mika though. They never wanted Father-kun to go through all this.

The next arc will probably be Pride. I have heard the theory that Mr. Priest and Lucifer are the same. Personally, I would prefer it if that was not the case. Lucifer is considered the first fallen angel. In the entire manga, there have only been 3 mentions of that demon lord. We do not even know what their deal is. I think it would be more interesting for Father-kun to meet the first person who has fallen and learn from them as he has fallen himself now.

Staying on the topic of demon lords. It's super cool that Leviathan helped Mr.Priest out. I am glad he remembered the offer she gave him. Side note she must be pissed. I mean she raised Imuri as her own daughter so if she ever decides to go after Marco. Hope the dude likes sea burials. She's even mad at Mr.Priest "Took you long enough!!". Girl, give him a break. This arc was about sloth anyway, of course, he had a hard time remembering.

Speaking of sloth. I really want to see Bel's reaction too. Like dude and his boy had a proper goodbye and everything. Like, imagine him having 10 maybe 15 minutes of peace and contentment, only to suddenly sense that his boy is in hell with him. Telling you Belphegor will come running as soon as he finds out.

Another thing that has me really excited is that this coming arc we're spending in Gehenna. In the past, I have mentioned that I wanted an arc to take place in hell and I can't believe it's actually happening. That last shot was so cool and were those dragons?!

But let's not forget page 19. We can fix that, right? Right? RIGHT? God, I don't know what will happen to those two. Come to think of it, did the witches even get a demon lord fragment?

Bro, where do we even go from here? I mean stop Satan? Is that even possible at this point? There is also still Baba Yaga we have to be worried about. Do we search for allies in Gehenna?

I am pretty sure that the only people Mr. Priest knows are the demon lords. Levy and Bel will help out. Mammon is a maybe, if my son can beat that guy in a fight I guess it's possible. Asmodeus is also a maybe I guess. Beelzebub probably not. Although he was disgusted by Satan's plan, so maybe. Don't count on it though. If this was all part of his plan, the dude is really shrewd.

Man at this point. Can my son even get a happy ending?

[venturelovebot]

Fluffy February Day Eleven: Crush

A/N: Prompts by @fluffyfebruary, written in headcanon format. Comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated but not necessary!

Warnings: None! Pure fluff!

🩷 Once more, they stare longingly at you from their desk.

❤️ Their notebook is filled with little doodles of the two of you together. Holding hands, hugging– even kissing if they were feeling particularly in the mood.

💄 They're extra careful not to let anyone see it. They huddle themself close to the paper and place the finishing touches on their newest drawing.

💋 It was you: just you this time. A study that they had done while you were waiting in line at lunch the other day.

🪽 By no means did they consider themself an artist. In fact, their skills were rather lackluster in their opinion.

🌹 All they notice is their mistakes. Yet, even in shoddy pencil, your presence seems to make their heart all aflutter.

🍫 "Okay, class!" Mrs. Ziegler speaks up. "Today begins our month long group project, let's start by splitting into groups of two!"

💒 Oh! Two? Only two?

🧸 Sloan's hazel eyes flash towards your figure sitting two seats in front of them.

🩷 Students begin to pair themselves up one by one. The number of options were quickly dwindling.

❤️ Surely, if the universe had ears... they silently pray to end up with you.

💄 The remaining few people choose to partner up with their friends.

💋 Being the lonely nerd they are, they had no real people to call friends.

🪽 Not that it bothered them at all. Their nose was always shoved inside a book anyway, who needs conversation when you can have knowledge?

🌹 Or... something like that.

🍫 They zone out harder than expected. They're only interrupted by the sound of a desk turning and facing them.

💒 "Looks like it's just us!" You smile.

🧸 Oh. My. God.

🩷 You are ten times cuter up close than you were far away.

❤️ The sparkle in your eyes, the glossy appearance of your skin, the glowing halo floating above your perfect hair– wait a minute, maybe that's just their imagination. Regardless, you looked so soft and precious that they practically forget to breathe.

💄 "Are you feeling okay?" You ask. "You look red..."

💋 They slam the cover of their notebook atop the page they were on.

🪽 "I'm f-fine!" They stutter, struggling to keep themself composed.

🌹 A piece of paper is handed out amongst the groups containing information about the project.

🍫 A presentation about your favorite Shakespeare play.

💒 "Aww man." You sigh. "They're all so boring, though."

🧸 They have to agree on that– while history was a big favorite, literature made them want to fall asleep.

🩷 "Well, I guess we have to pick one." You shrug. "Which one should we do?"

❤️ "Romeo and Juliet–" They suggest. "Get it? Because I have a crush on you–"

💄 They stop themself. Their pupils dilate in absolute terror. A scream gets stuck in their throat as they seemingly choke on nothing.

💋 You look up at them with a soft blush on your face.

🪽 At first, you're confused. You thought you misheard them– but according to their reaction, you heard them correctly after all.

🌹 Their heart stops inside their chest. Tears form in the edges of their eyes and they begin blinking rapidly to dry them up.

🍫 Then, you laugh. Not in a hurtful way, though.

💒 "You do?" You prod them further.

🧸 "NO–" They squeak, clearly lying.

🩷 "Oh? So you wouldn't be interested in coming over to my house to work on the project?" You playfully tease them.

❤️ "OKAY. MAYBE." They admit, voice still five octaves higher than normal.

💄 You giggle once again. Their heart restarts at five hundred beats per second.

💋 "You're cute. Come on, let's get to work." You tell them.

🪽 "SURE." They huff, barely breathing from everything that just took place.

🌹 It was going to be a long, long month.

🍫 But... at least they get to spend it with you!