#or HAIR IMAGINE THE STRUGGLE WITH HAIR CARE

[silverskyeline]

.・✭ FANFIC MASTERLIST 13/11/24 ✭・.

⭐ personal favourites // 🔥 smut // 🐻 fluff // 💔 angst

ੈ♡˳ Wolverine

✩ worst wolverine ✦ ⭐🔥 'messy' (nsfw) - worst!logan x f!reader // logan learns that you can squirt, he indulges in that information (1.8k words) ✦ ⭐🔥 'hunger' (nsfw) - worst!logan x f!reader // logan can't tear his mind away from the new barmaid at his usual haunt. he tries to resist you, he really does. but when you're both alone in the bathroom, he finds he's not the only one plagued with filthy thoughts. (3.9k words)

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

✩ old man logan ✦ 🔥 'look at me' (nsfw) - oldman!logan x gn!reader // logan can't fuck like he used to, but you don't care. you get on top, gladly taking care of him in return (2k words) ✦ 🔥 'forever in blue jeans' (nsfw) - oldman!logan x f!reader // riding old man logans thigh while he wears jeans (500 words) ✦ ⭐🔥 'my man' (nsfw) - oldman!logan x gn!reader // he's irresistible in that work suit of his, so much so that you decide to treat him with it on. (1.3k) ✦ 🔥 'big bad wolf' (nsfw) - oldman!logan x f!reader // request: 'couples halloween costumes with old man logan who will begrudgingly dress up for his girl'. (400 words) ✦ ⭐🔥 'disobedience' (nsfw) - oldman!logan x f!reader // moodboard + drabble. (100 words) ✦ ⭐🐻 'domestic life' - oldman!logan x gn!reader // domestic life with logan headcanons (700 words) ✦ 💔 'the man in the mirror' - oldman!logan x gn!reader // comforting logan as he questions his identity (600 words) ✦ 🐻💔 'always' - oldman!logan x gn!reader // logan is struggling to look after himself, you trim his beard while he sleeps. (800 words)

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

✩ general logan / aus / other ✦ 🔥 'nsfw alphabet headcanons' (nsfw) - logan x gn!reader // the word 'logan' for the nsfw alphabet (800 words) ✦ ⭐🔥 'dirty little secret' (nsfw) - logan x f!reader // logan finds that you've left him a little gift behind, and he just can't help himself. (1.2k) ✦ ⭐🔥 'baby fever' (nsfw) - logan x f!reader // after your first baby is born, logan realises he doesn't want to stop at just one. (4.4k) ✦ 🔥 'branded' (nsfw) - logan x gn!reader // wearing logans dog tags as you ride him (300 words) ✦ 🔥 'joyride' - (nsfw) logan x f!reader // logan fucks you on his (scotts) motorbike in the middle of the forest because you can't keep it down inside the mansion. (1.7k words) ✦ 🔥 'heavy metal lover' (nsfw) - logan x f!reader // imagine logan is in a metal band and he uses you before every gig in his dressing room (300 words) ✦ 🔥 'save a horse, ride a cowboy' (nsfw) - cowboy!logan x gn!reader // riding cowboy logan (370 words) ✦ 🔥 'life with lumberjack logan headcanons' (nsfw) - a collection of domestic headcanons for lumberjack logan (600 words) ✦ ⭐🔥 'bad idea, right?' (nsfw) - dofp!logan x f!reader // your father hired him to protect you, not to fuck you. but logan never really liked playing by the rules. (1.7k) ✦ 🔥 'strangers' (nsfw) - logan x f!reader // the stranger in the leather jacket at the bar wants you as much as you want him. (800 words) ✦ 🔥 'the animal in the cage' (nsfw) - logan x gn!reader // you return each week to watch the stranger in the cage, desire swirling in your mind. there's no way he'd ever look at you too. . . right? (830 words) ✦ 🔥 'hands' (nsfw) - logan x gn!reader // moodboard + drabble, taking his fingers in your mouth (60 words) ✦ 🐻 'sunflowers' - logan x gn!reader // moodboard + drabble, logan buys you sunflowers (100 words) ✦ 🐻💔 'im sorry' - logan x gn!reader // logan would never hurt you, but in his nightmares he's often not able to control his claws - he's hurt you, the one thing he never wanted to do. (1k) ✦ 🐻 'soft' - logan x gn!reader // imagine playing with logans hair (500 words) ✦ ⭐🐻 'snow day' - logan x gn!reader // logan hates the snow, hates that it reminds him of the past. but he soon finds that being with you gives it a whole new meaning. (1.1k) ✦ 🐻 'halloween' - logan x gn!reader // carving pumpkins with logan. (200 words) ✦ ⭐🐻 'that funny feeling' - logan x gn!reader // no matter how hard he tries, logan can't escape one simple fact. he's falling in love with you. (900 words) ✦ 🐻 'number one fan' - rockstar!logan x popstar!wade // rockstar logan meets popstar wade backstage. what could go wrong? (1.1k words)

[thewhumpcaretaker]

⚜ 𝕋𝕙𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕎𝕙𝕠 ℍ𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕊𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕠 𝕃𝕚𝕧𝕖 𝔽𝕠𝕣 - ℂ𝕙. 𝕏𝕀𝕀𝕀: ℝ𝕦𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 ⚜

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ ✧.*★ Thank you to @kavalyera for the beta read!

Summary: As Chidi struggles to win back Vincent's trust, two visitors show up at the palace to make good on Gianna's promise of revenge.

TW: Vincent and Chidi still arguing, discussion of slavery, drug use, mention of self-harm via overdose

The night wore away to raw, abraded, faded morning over Il Palazzo. A morning so broken that it creaked with the progress of Chidi’s boots up the staircase at four o’clock, when the streets were at their most silent and the tumult of his heart was greatest. He was not wanted until five, but if he were discovered there early, it might give the Marquis some renewed confidence in him.

A line of white light bled out from under the bedroom door, an indicator that the master of the house was not sleeping either. Swelling with emotion, Chidi took his station next to the door and repeatedly imagined it opening. It didn’t. All the same, he felt the tension of the night finally ease. He was where he was supposed to be. Something was being done for Vincent.

Chidi never had any doubt that the thing could be resolved. In a day (or a week, if his suspicions lasted that long) Vincent would see that his bodyguard continued to rise from his guest bedroom to take up a place by his side as faithfully as ever. Just as before, love and patience would win out between them, surely. It wasn’t the outcome that bothered Chidi, no. It was the journey towards it, which could only be painful. He strained his ears in the silence, as if Vincent’s suffering might make an audible sound. As if he could do anything if it did. He listened actively, with his whole body, until he cursed himself for obsessiveness. Don’t fuss over him. Just be here. Just be here and wait.

There was water running in the bathroom. Soft sounds of movement that meant things were, in some measure, okay. Some of the tension in his shoulders finally slipped away, and with it, his perfect poise. In the relaxation of being near his master, Chidi dozed. It was not his habit to do so – in fact, he usually maintained meticulous awareness, scanning any given room from left to right and planning at least a dozen ways to defend it in his moments of idleness. But the past days’ constant activity, followed by a sleepless night, had bludgeoned his brain into a sort of mush that couldn’t maintain any kind of awareness, let alone meticulous scanning. So he fell asleep standing up at Vincent’s doorstep like a dog left outside overnight.

He had ample time to sleep, because the Marquis did not emerge at five, or at six, or seven. He had still not emerged at nine o’clock sharp, when the doorbell rang. The leading maid came rushing up the stairs to Chidi, and declared that the master of the house was wanted immediately by Signore Giovanni D’Antonio himself. At last, Vincent was forced to emerge, and at last, Chidi laid eyes on him.

So this is what you’ve been doing since 4 AM, thought Chidi. It was worse than anything he could have expected.

Vincent looked positively regal. He looked, perhaps, the most magnificent Chidi had ever seen him, aside from his coronation day. His motions, too, were more unnaturally smooth and rapid than they had been since coronation day, and Chidi now recognized the effects of cocaine. It only added to the overall effect of overwhelming vitality, and for some reason, Chidi would’ve rather he’d been too bedraggled to venture out in public.

No particular feature stood out as the source of his splendor – rather, each and every possible facet of his appearance benefited from extraordinary care. His suit was styled the same way as ever, but he had selected the scarlet one that he knew to be Chidi’s favorite, and paired it with a black tie Chidi had once complimented. His slicked hair shone under the lights with a pearlescent gel (made of real pearl dust, based on what Chidi once read on the crystal bottle in the bathroom) which played dazzlingly against the sparkle of that glittering blazer. He wore a full face of makeup. Natural though it was, the concealer under his eyes and around that frozen smile gave him the look of hollow porcelain, a doll that might, at any moment, smash into thousands of pieces. At once adorable, breakable, fuckable, kissable – really, one could do anything to him except look away from him.

Chidi tried to force his gaping mouth to express either appreciation or concern, but all he managed was “Bonjour Monsieur. Vous êtes… [Good morning, sir. You look…]” before Vincent pushed past without even glancing in his direction.

He had words only for the maid. “Merci beaucoup, Gabriele. Voyons Sr. D'Antonio dans le salon, d'accord ? [Thank you so much, Gabriele. Let’s see Sr. D’Antonio into the sitting room, shall we?]”

Oh. So this is to be your weapon of choice, sir: silence. Sighing, Chidi followed him.

The head of the D’Antonios was accompanied by a small, very upright and orderly sort of person, dressed all in black, with leather gloves and a smart capelet, and black boots that clicked over the entryway onto the marble to extend a hand to Vincent.

“Greetings, Marquis. I believe we’ve met once in person? A pleasure.” Chidi recognized them then, from the coronation. The Adjudicator. They’d been mercifully brief with Vincent’s time.

“Of course. A pleasure to meet in person again. Though I do regret the circumstances.” He turned his gaze on Giovanni with a cold smile. “It’s always so bittersweet when a man’s grief for his son brings us together, no?”

Giovanni passed him without a handshake. “Not grief, Marquis. And not for my son. The boy was a fool, and not even my heir. I knew he’d meet such an end sooner or later. No, this is for my daughter.”

A flash of open aggression contorted Vincent’s features before he could repress it, smiling again. “In that case,” he snapped his fingers at the maid. “Champagne! It’s a celebration instead. Have a seat, my friend, and we’ll drink to Gianna’s health.” Chidi was smiling too. Even with the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife, it was a delight to watch Vincent at work. And he was putting his all into every word, every motion. One knee folded over the other, he descended into a chair like a swan landing.

Despite his irritation, Giovanni did the same across from him, shifting under that smug, almost hateful gaze. Chidi wished they could trade places, that Vincent would grace him with such a look instead. Better that than nothing. It nearly happened - Vincent’s eyes flickered in Chidi’s direction, perhaps to check if he was looking, but he swiftly looked away again before he could break the continuity of the punishment.

The Adjudicator remained standing, and stepped back to let the champagne pass through. Giovanni seemed to welcome the distraction of the maid handing over a glass of bubbly. Though he let it fizzle in his hand without drinking, eyeing it thoughtfully. “While we’re drinking to Gianna’s health, we out to drink to your father’s memory. To ruin!” Again, Gianna’s words returned to them like a bell that just kept tolling. I will ruin you.

“To both their ruin!” said Vincent, and drank.

Giovanni laughed humorlessly. “You throw away a connection so carelessly. But then, times change with new leadership. Your father and I had an agreement, Vincent. Did you ever hear of it?”

“…My father had many agreements. You’ll have to be more specific.”

“Well. This was an important one, to be sure. But my daughter was kind enough to remind me last night that…given the changes at the French seat, it may be time to re-evaluate. Especially since the present leadership hasn’t shown the same appreciation for my family that Àlderic did.” His eyes flashed with meaning, but Vincent remained impassable.

“Enough theatrics,” said Vincent, all while lazily tapping his fingers at the glass of champagne he didn’t want. “On with this agreement of yours.”

“You see, it was always good for my family when your family was strong. They took care of us. So…I overlooked something that has been overlooked for a century now. I never brought trial against him, and I shut down anyone who tried. Even the Elder overlooks it, because it has always been good for him too, when your family is strong. But it’s not fair, and it’s never been fair, so I’ve decided to grow a conscience, you see. A conscience about your Myrmidons.”

“Hmm? Et eux ? [Hmm? What of them?]” Again, Vincent almost looked at his bodyguard and didn’t.

Giovanni leaned forward, grinning, watching for the way the words would hit home. “The High Table is owed forty percent of them every year.”

The glass went onto an end table with a sigh. “How disappointing. The celebration is over before it can begin, as our most important guest has gone mad.”

“No madness. What I mean to say is that they should be under universal High Table control. Every seat holder must be protected against the others, as well you know. According to statutes enacted in the mid-1700s, forty percent of all captive human beings of any kind are to become the subjects of the High Table at large, to prevent the accruement of privately enslaved armies. Which is exactly what your great-grandfather created, and your father and grandfather maintained. They’re slaves, Marquis. They just happen to be controlled by hostages instead of chains.”

Well. That was the first time Chidi had heard the word applied to the situation, and it was…strangely validating. Perhaps he would have chosen this job, but many surrounding him wouldn’t. It might be prestigious. It might be high paying. But it was forced, and nothing could change that.

Vincent, on the other hand, was struggling to contain himself. “Madness, it’s definitely madness. They are anything but slaves. They’re paid, quite handsomely. Both the Myrmidons and the leashes. They’re under our protection. It’s a perfectly upstanding hostage situation. And if you suggest such things about my family again – ”

“Of course, it was never presented to you that way, I’m sure. But they can’t exactly file for severance, now, can they? If they’re held on pain of another person’s death, they’re slaves, and a slave counts as an asset, not an employee. And assets are taxable for the High Table Treasury.”

He clapped his hands, chuckling. “How interesting! How clever! You know who else can’t quit? Seat holders can’t quit! They know too much. None of us can quit. I can’t quit. You can’t quit. Every seat holder is a slave, hahaha! You’re a slave to the Elder and the High Table!” Vincent was really laughing now, high and hysterical. There was sweat breaking out on his brow. “No no, don’t stand up, let’s think about it.” He leapt up himself, pushing Giovanni back into his seat as he tried to rise, a knife suddenly sharp against his throat. Giovanni shrunk under his grasp, wide eyed and trembling. The man’s own guards, and Chidi too, all drew guns, but Vincent had already dropped him and was back to spinning giddily through the room. “No really, let’s have a little think! Can you quit, Sr. D’Antonio? Maybe you want to retire in the country. Maybe you’re tired of watching your pathetic whelp of a son curse you from beyond the grave and your traitorous wretch of a daughter lick her lips waiting for you to die. Maybe you even abdicate. But if the High Table ever calls on you, if they ever want you, they still own you and they’ll sooner shoot you in the back than let you run away. Look at that, you’re a slave yourself. Perhaps the Elder should take a percentage of you. Your prattling tongue, for instance, or everything above the neck if they’re - ”

“TU LUNATO! TU ASSOLUTO – TU BAMBINO! NON HO FINITO! NON SONO – [YOU LUNATIC! YOU ABSOLUTE – YOU CHILD! I AM NOT FINISHED! I AM NOT – ]“

“OH! OH! VOUS N'AIMEZ PAS LES ENFANTS ? PEUT-ÊTRE QU’ILS DEVRAIENT PRENDRE TOUT CE QUI SOUS LA TAILLE ET NOUS ÉPARGNER D’AUTRES HÉRITIERS D’ANTONIO – [OH! OH! YOU DON’T LIKE CHILDREN? MAYBE THEY SHOULD TAKE EVERYTHING BELOW THE WAIST AND SPARE US ANY MORE D’ANTONIO HEIRS – ]“

The two shouted over each other inaudibly for at least thirty seconds before The Adjudicator seized a small golden lion bookending a nearby shelf and slammed it against the coffee table like a gavel. Both men straightened themselves, red faced and sheepish. Vincent at last muttered into the awkward silence, staring ruefully at the coffee table. “…If that’s dented, I will see full compensation, oui?”

“Of course, and I do apologize for any inconvenience. A typical hazard of dispute mediation. It all goes in the expense report. Now…” They came to stand between D’Antonio and De Gramont, with more courage than Chidi himself could have mustered. “I do believe the nature of the dispute has been communicated. Sr. D’Antonio, you have three days to withdraw your claims, should you wish to do so.” The look he gave in response showed zero probability of that. “Marquis de Gramont, you have three days to either surrender forty percent of the Myrmidon army, or surrender the army’s leadership, to the authority of the greater High Table. …Alternatively, you may prove that they are legitimate employees, bound only by oath. That oath may be unbreakable on pain of death, but it must be given without coercion in order to ensure the Myrmidons are not taxable assets. Do you both understand?”

“Yes.”

“Yes.”

“Excellent. If either of you would like to consult with me in the meantime, you know how to reach me. On the third day, the Harbinger and myself will oversee your final decision. It’s a curious case, to be sure, the nature of the Myrmidons.” They cast an appraising eye over Chidi. “There hasn’t been a question of this kind for centuries. It will be sure to set precedent for the Table as a whole.”

With that, the guests made their way out of the sitting room, leaving Vincent and Chidi alone with each other. Vincent stared into space, and then at Chidi, as if seeing him for the first time. “Quel putain de cauchemar. [What a fucking nightmare.]”

Chidi squinted, trying to interpret. “Est-ce que… vous me parlez encore, monsieur ? [Is that…are you speaking to me again, sir?]”

“Oui! Oui bien sûr je te parle encore. [Yes! Yes of course I’m speaking to you again,]” Vincent said, as if he’d asked whether the sky was blue. “As-tu déjà dit à ton frère qu'il était libre ? [Have you told your brother he’s free yet?]”

”Pas encore, monsieur. Ma matinée était – j'attendais devant ta porte. [Not yet, sir. My morning was – I was waiting by your door.]”

“Mon Dieu… je ne l'ai pas fait… la nuit dernière… la façon dont je t'ai traité, putain… pour vouloir quoi, ne pas être un esclave ? [My god…I didn’t…last night…the way I fucking treated you…for wanting to what, not be a slave?]” The laughter was starting up again. Much like the exquisite beauty, Chidi thought the opposite would have been less concerning.

“Oui, c'est… eh bien, c'est techniquement ce qui s'est passé. Mais… [Yes that’s…well that’s technically what happened. But…]” But what? What was he supposed to say? It’s okay? It wasn’t, really. Forgivable, but no, it wasn’t okay. Though the sincerity of Vincent’s response now was certainly an encouraging turn.

“Pour ça, pour ça, je me suis habillé dans ce foutu costume juste pour que tu te sentes mal de me quitter. Alors peut-être que tu pleurerais en voyant à quel point j'avais l'air pitoyable, évanouie, le visage dans un sac de cocaïne ce soir. Pour CELA ! Quand tu as tous les droits ! [For that, for that I dressed up in this god-forsaken suit just to make you feel bad about leaving me. So maybe you’d cry when you saw how pitiful I looked passed out with my face in a bag of cocaine tonight. For THAT! When you have every right!]” He buried his perfectly done-up face into his hands.

“Oh mon Dieu, Marquis, non, s'il te plaît, ne fais rien de pareil. Je te jure que je ne partais pas, il n'y a rien que je ne ferai pas pour le prouver – [Oh god, Marquis, no, please don’t do anything like that. I swear to you I wasn’t leaving, there’s nothing I won’t to do to prove – ]”

“Chidi arrête. Arrêtez-le. Écoutez-moi. [Chidi stop. Stop it. Listen to me.]” Vincent spoke through his teeth, and through the hands still covering his face.

“Oui, monsieur?”

He pulled his hands away, leaving severe smudging, to look Chidi in the eye. “Je…suis désolé [I’m…sorry.]”

Chidi took a step forward, arms already outstretched. “Je vous pardo - [I forgi – ]“

“Non, n'ose pas me réconforter maintenant. Sortir. Et pas parce que je suis en colère contre toi. Va dire à Mo qu'il est libre, d'accord ? Allez lui dire qu'il est libre. ALLER! [No don’t you dare comfort me right now. Get out. And not because I’m angry with you. Go tell Mo he’s free, okay? Go tell him he’s free. GO!]”

He obeyed. The sound of furious banging and crashing followed not ten seconds later. He was on the point of turning back when he heard muttering about “mets-le sur la note de frais alors, très bien, je le ferai [put it on the expense report then, fine, I will]” which could only mean they’d soon be getting a new coffee table. Best let him carry on with that. It could be much worse...

“¡Nosotros podemos ir juntos! [We can go together!]” That was Mo’s exclamation, as they stood in the guest room, repacking his bag together. “Ven conmigo antes de que cambie de opinión. [Come with me, before he changes his mind.]”

“No, me quedo. Quise decir lo que dije. I – [No, I’m staying. I meant what I said. I – ]“ He had to breathe for a second just to overcome the wild emotion. “Realmente lo amo, Mo. No me iré hasta que él también esté libre. [I really love him, Mo. I won’t leave until he’s free too.]”

“¿Libre? [Free?]” Mo glanced left and right, at the tortoiseshell wall table to one side of them and the gilt chandelier to the other. “¿De qué, riqueza y poder más allá de lo que cualquiera de nosotros pueda imaginar? Preferirías liberar a una tortuga de su caparazón. Estos tipos de tiranos, esto es lo que son. He conocido a muchos trabajando en la Mesa. Algo está roto arriba con esta gente, nunca están satisfechos. [From what, wealth and power beyond what either of us can imagine? You’d sooner free a turtle from its shell. These tyrant types – this is who they are. I’ve met too many, working at the Table. Something’s broken upstairs with these people, they’re never satisfied.]” Mo tapped the side of his head. “Lo vi, incluso estos últimos dos días. ¿Qué crees que les hará a los mirmidones a medida que crezca su reinado? ¿A ti? Es... te mereces algo mejor. [I saw it, even just these past two days. What do you think he’ll do to the Myrmidons as he grows into his reign? To you? It’s…you deserve better.]”

“Estas equivocado. [You’re wrong.]” Chidi felt his face flooding with heat but refused to let them slide into conflict again. He took a deep breath. “Él no es su padre, Mo. Verás, pronto todos lo serán. Hay una fuerza en él que no tiene nada que ver con la compostura, y hay... hay una bondad que no tiene nada que ver con la humildad. No hay nadie con quien preferiría estar a mi lado mientras adquiere ese poder. Creo que las cosas serán diferentes. Realmente. [He’s not his father, Mo. You’ll see, everyone will soon enough. There’s a strength to him that has nothing to do with composure, and there’s…there’s this goodness that has nothing to do with humility. There’s no one I’d rather stand beside as he grows into that power. I think things will be different. Truly.]”

Mo sighed. “Supongo que no creo que pueda convencerte. Quién sabe, tal vez le hagas algún bien. Si tienes razón, nada me haría más feliz. [I guess I know better than to think I can convince you. Who knows, maybe you’ll do him some good. If you’re right, nothing would make me happier.]” He pulled the backpack onto his shoulders, loaded even tighter this time with gifts from the palace. “Pero… ¿lo visitarás? [But…you’ll visit?]”

“Sí. Si me aceptas. [Yes. If you’ll have me.]”

“Por supuesto que lo haré, idiota. Cuídate. Eso es todo lo que siempre quiero, ¿sabes? [Of course I will, idiot. Take care of yourself. That’s all I ever want, you know?]”

Chidi had to wipe the tears from his face. “Sabes que siento lo mismo. [You know I feel the same.]”

But the moment was broken by Mo’s glance at the doorway. Chidi followed his eyes just in time to see the heel of Vincent’s boot disappearing around the corner. “Volveré, ¿vale? [I’ll be back, okay?]”

“Ve a buscarlo. [Go get him.]”

◃ Back ⚜ Next ▹(coming soon)

Image Sources: One (my screenshot) | Two

Author's Note: For more information about real modern slavery, this is the US State Department's overview. Chidi's situation is probably closest to "forced labor."

[dark-elf-writes]

The whole “human stumbles on a seemingly abandoned manor only to find a monster inside but wait they’re kind!” trope only the monster is just single parent of a half human child from the last human that found the manor (that relationship didn’t end well and they are still paying alimony) trying their best with the help of their equally monstrous staff but god they really need help for the human parts please won’t the human stay they’ll be paid and they won’t have to worry about anything and

[ethanharmonia]

VOLO MY BELOVED RRHAHHRHHAHRHHAHEHHRHHRHRHRHHHH🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️💥💥💥💥

FINALLY MADE HIS REFERENCE SHEET BECAUSE MY BRAIN WOULDNT STOP MAKING FAKE SCENARIOS ABOUT HIM BEING EPIC RRRAHHHHH LEAVE ME ALONEEEE (giving info later cuz its late at night and im so tired, tumblr do not explode me again pls spare me)

DRAWING THAT ARCEUS HAIR OF HIS MADE ME FALL ON THE FLOOR AND COLLAPSE CUZ I STRUGGLED SO HARD TO DO IT RRAH I HATE HIM BUT I LOVE HIM HE IS MY WIFE

Some other versions cuz i felt like it huehueh

And some doodlers of him (the one on the top were supposed to be the first thing i made before making the references hhhhhh

(hold up i needa do smth imma give explanation later wait)

(listening to Fantasize by ariana grande made me extra gay for this man help me)

[scatteredcloud]

Do you think he has a curl care routine ? (I think he should)

Draw Kabru with curly hair cowards!!!!

[graevs666]

i feel so ugly

[romantically-yours]

I desire romantically doing makeup with somebody

[sparkler16]

Guys this it actually so amazing y’all should go support this because OH MY GOSH YES TO EVERYTHING. 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

I was gonna post a vid on tiktok bc I have more followers there but i'll post it here because-

When I die, I wanna be reincarnated into Redacted Tumblr as a beautiful Lasko/Gavin spicy fic-

Anyway, I drew the D.A.M.N. boys + Imperium AU :D Please look at them, its late and I'm tired.

I also have a speedpaint of them on my yt (eggyboyoart) so if you wanted to look at that as well, I would be rlly happy :))

(TW: Spoilers for Imperium AU)

I wanted Lasko to look super light and soft and cloud-like while also being kind of elegant?? He looks so poofy :D

I hc that he takes rlly RLLY great care of his hair, like- mans has a 23 step routine to keep it untangled and soft :))

The hair routine also helps him relax and de-stress after a long day

I also headcanon that he wears a lot of light, soft sweaters with a button up underneath for that academic soft boy look

In the Imperium AU, he got the scar across his eye from a wayward daemon who tried to attack him in the D.A.M.N. daemon haven.

He wears his hair tied back into a low pony tail to seem more 'professional', bc my mans is the ACADEMY PRESIDENT :D

Imp! Lasko wears a black suit with a white button up and either a red or light blue tie (gotta keep it professional when you're tormenting daemons and chasing after uninterested freelancers :|)

IDK why but whenever I imagine Damien (original timeline), its always with rlly short hair

idk I feel like if he had long hair, it would make him too warm around his neck and that'd make him uncomfortable and grumpy (well, more grumpy than he usually is anyway)

gotta keep the neck open for air flow (and easy access-)

I think he wears a lot of sleeveless clothes (tank tops, sleeveless hoodies, etc and shorts bc of the heat

Damien is a chronic khaki shorts wearer, I'M SORRY-

Imp! Damien is royalty so obvs gotta keep it professional

I feel like he would have other priorities than cutting his hair so it mostly just gets slicked back out of his face

The scar on his neck is from a failed assassination attempt (our boy damien stays livin', unlike Angel-)

I feel like he still wears sleeveless shirts but also wears a fur cape (like, one of those white ones with the black spots with the red velvet) which seems counter intuitive.

I am relieved to say that Imp! Damien doesn't wear khaki shorts :D silver linings, guys-

I wanna start this off my saying, Imp! Huxley might be one of my favourite characters

Hes just, such a piece of shit and I don't want to change him, I want him to stay exactly how he is, thats the POINT-

Freelancer bought him neon jewellery for his lip piercings and he screamed when he got them

also a sweater wearer like lasko but he likes his sweaters to be oversized, but because hes just big, his sweaters are like blankets for regular sized ppl

he has his hair kinda long-ish bc freelancer enjoys playing with it and he likes making his friends happy so he keeps it kinda long just for them-

Imp! Huxley is a piece of shit and we love him for that

He doesn't have friends so his hair is shorter

He probably wears tactical gear/uniform bc he is an enforcer, but its all like a dark green which looks rlly good on him

no neon piercings for Imp! Hux as much as I hate to say it

GAVIN OUR FASHION ICON-

He knows clothes like he knows freelancer's body- IN AND OUT. Hes got that shit LOCKED DOWN

Freelancer gave him the heart glasses as a gift

Gavin never saw the appeal of piercings until freelancer said they would look hot on him, REALLY enjoys all the different types of jewellery

Probably wears patterned button up shirts (with as many buttons undone as possible) with skin tight jean/leather pants

Imp! Gavin dresses like hes homeless, theres no time for fashion when you're trying to survive in an dystopian magic world where everyone hates you :P

I hc that when a Daemon gets low in energy/emotions, they can't keep their 'glamour/human form' up so they forcibly have to take on their more daemonic traits (horns, coloured eyes, markings, tails, claws, etc)

and bc of the shit hole that the Imperium AU world is... :|

I also hc that only sex and sadism daemons have coloured sclera

[monstersholygrail]

Imagine Vampire bf and Werewolf bf fighting over your cunt while you’re on your period. Both pushing each other out of the way to get between your spread legs first.

Vampire bf wants to eat you out because any taste of your blood is enough to drive him feral. To think that your body is freely gushing it out has him panting as he struggles to control his fangs. He wishes he had the ability to breathe simply so that he could suffocate against your pussy as your sweet nectar slides down his tongue.

Werewolf bf wants to eat you out because your scent is so much more potent on your period and it makes him dizzy. He wants to be closer to it, he wants to bury himself in your folds and drown in your scent. He imagines that if your smell is stronger than your taste will be too. His cock drips with pre-cum imagining the taste of your pussy when it’s like this.

Eventually neither of them can take it a second longer when you whimper, your cramps flaring up. Their need to help you, to soothe you, overcoming the urge to get to you first. So they go at you together. Their tongues lapping along your slit before delving in deeper. You moan, back arching, but their hands hold you down and intertwine along your navel.

They make out with your pussy, not caring about the mess, their tongues swirling through your folds, messily dipping into your gushing cunt to soak up your fluids, and kissing each other in the midst of devouring your core. Your hands weave into their hair, drawing them deeper into you and taking the pleasure you so desperately need. Mirroring growls leave them as the scent of your arousal grows stronger, letting them know you’re close. You cum hard into their mouths and they both drink up every last drop. They don’t stop lapping up your release until you push them away. But they’re right back on you as they crawl up and sandwich your body between them for some cuddling.

[heavierthanlaila]

a big part of healing and growing up is unlearing all the horrible habits you've acquired over years of struggling with depression and relearning how to take care of yourself from scratch.

[the-faceless-bride]

More Ideas for KNY (demon slayer) different characters ♡ (SOME NSFW CONTENT FOR SANEMI AND MUZAN AND MENTIONS OF GORE IN SANEMI AND LIGHT NSFW IN GYOMEI)

<- Part 1

Imagine being dangerously in love.

Imagine being a demon, obsessed with the brash, and blood thirst Wind Hashira. the first time ever being in battle with him is what leads you down a path of want and lust for the cruel hashira.

Imagine going out of your way to always be where he is, always catching his attention and being attacked by him. He believes you're mocking him, following him just to show off that he hasn't been able to kill you. But that isn't true at all. When you fight, you never actively try and gut him, only blocking your neck and leaving the rest of your limbs exposed to be lashed in this masochism tango.

Imagine struggling to hide your enjoyment and ecstacy each time his sword ripped, teard, and scar your body. He had to have known how me made you feel. He must. The darkness of your cheeks must've been a giveaway. Right? His eyes bewitching you in how intense he glares into your soul. It sets a fire under your cold skin, a burning desire.

Imagine one time when you and Sanemi are fighting. Other slayers show up. But they don't instantly jump into the fight. 1. from looking at the fight, you hadn't landed a single strike and seemed to be a greater deal slower than the hashira, and 2. Tanjiro made an odd comment. "Huh, it's like she's avoiding striking him on purpose."

Imagine how Shinobu decided the fight was long enough and tried to sneak in and end the fight. Only for a switch to set off and catch her off guard and spin at the speed of light, leaving a large gash across her body from her left founder to her hip. And Sanemi instantly tried to help her. Only to be stopped by your own weapon pressed so close to his neck that even swallowing made his Adamsapple scrape against a sharp blade. "Don't you dare. Your attention is meant for me. Are you seriously letting her attempt to get between us work?" And that made Sanemi pause... "us? Wha-" -- "don't play dumb darling. We're soulmates, Sanemi~" you whisper to him. "What the fuck."

Imagine how now you make him feel so conflicted, how he hates you for what you are but loves you for how you make him feel... in his home in his spare time as the sun rises, his windows covered and locked tight as he has you on your knees, leaning forward and his chest pressed to your back. Your head locked between his bicep as his other hand held his sword under you. It nicks you each time he thrusts. If he pushed you forward anymore, his blade would surely cut your chest and stomach open. "I HATE YOU, YOU FILTHY DEMON. I DONT WANT YOU. CURSE YOU FOR DEMONIC TEMPTATION." You softy cry at the harsh words from your love, "I don't care if you don't want me... I'm yours right now..."

Sanemi Shinazugawa × Demon reader Trope: Yandere Lovesick/I hate you so much I love you.

Imagine being with Muzan his entire life... your family were servants to his family. And from a young age, you were assigned to be Muzans personal maid or companion as you were too young to really do any work than cleaning up his room. But since you can remember, you've always been with Muzan.

Imagine being the one he confides with most. His fears, his wishes, and despite his coldness. His shouldering eyes seemed to be less scorching when it came to you. His one and only friend. Even if you didn't have much of a choice in the companionship. It was you who sat in on his doctor's visits about his deteriorating health. When he got the news of how it would be a miracle for him to even make it to his mid 20s...

Imagine how one night after a particularly scary coughing fit, he simply places his head to your mid section as you blush his hair and pull it back into a braid. He softy thanks you as he tilts his head to look up at you, "Of course, I'm always happy to take care of you." But that isn't want he wants. He wanted to take care of you. Not you to him. And without thinking, he pulls you down to him.

Imagine His heat is pounding in his chest. You lay across him as his long and slim fingers tease you between your legs. You try and stay quiet, your face twisted with pleasure and guilt. You felt like you were taking advantage of the sick man who would never find love or feel the love of another in such a romantic and intimate way. You thought maybe that this was him just grasping for a moment where he didn't feel so useless being bedridden. But it was so much more. If this was the last thing he did, pleasing the only one who he cared for most. The one he wished he could've married... he would be happy to die. This surely isn't good for his heart, but he couldn't care less. You hovering yourself above him. As he tried weakly to pull you in to rest your whole weight. This was how he wanted to spend his last days, weeks, and months. However long he had left. He wanted it to be with you.

Imagine as days go by, and he feels more and more guilty. He starts to feel as though you let him do these things because you feel obligated as his personal maid to do so. Nights in the dark ask he fingers you, giving and receiving oral pleasure. But you still won't give him everything. You refuse to fully lay with him. Sometimes, he feels like it's because you don't really love him. Not like he does you. Or maybe you find him... pathetic... he can't actually make love to you. You'd be doing all the work. He doesn't want that, and it seems you don't either... eventually, his thoughts become too much, and he decides to let you go...

Imagine you were relieved of all your maid duties, not just to Muzan but to the family as a whole. You were heartbroken. And the heartbreak only worsened at the news of Muzan and his families and your families deaths. You'd cried more times than you'd ever had before in your life. And you were so very confused when you'd found a Man who looked exactly like Muzan sitting in your bed a few nights later. "Hello dear. I'm home." He invented to truly give you what you wanted, and he was eager to give it too you.

Muzan Kibutsuji × reader Trope: Unrequited/reunited love/soulmates

Imagine being Master Kagaya's faithful slayer, you'd always admired him. You and your Master had created a strong bond. Stronger than others. Moments like this reminded you that you were special. You sat on your knees as you just like you had the first time. Your head pressed to his chest and he dragged his fingers over your head.

Imagine trying not to tear up as you remember the first time you'd kneeled for him. You'd been reckless and impatient leading to a fellow slayer getting extremely hurt. You kneeled before him as you sat in the room alone waiting for him to speak. Doing your best to not make any noise as you silently cry. You'd failed him. Your beloved Master. But he didn't yell. He didn't make you feel like you were a problem. He merely hummed before knealing with you, one hand on atop your head and the other cupping your cheek feeling the wet stream of tears and wiped it away. "It's alright. You didn't mean for this to happen. I know you didn't. I know you're a good girl." And your breath hitched. He noticed. And from then on he gave you positive affrimations which encouraged you to do better. For him.

Imagine how as you sat there listening to his words letting yourself flow away and melt into your master. He thought it was innocent. He was simply your master helping you, if it wasn't him maybe you'd find these soft words from Gyomei or maybe even Kyojuro... but he was wrong. So wrong. It was him. Only him. You'd put yourself on the line so much more than you should've. All to hear those soft praises. His wife must not like you... you do take up more and more of his time as days go on...

Imagine how he softly calls to you. Late that night, he'd heard your footsteps. He sat with you talking. About anything that day. Soft and short conversations. Quiet but not uncomfortable. "You're my favorite you know." He sighed, before he let out a small chuckle "don't tell the others." You know he was teasing. But your heart told you other wise.

Imagine being hurt. In battle you were hurt. But even in your pain you still made your way to your master... your beautiful Kagaya... the married man, the family man, that you had fallen in love with. "My dear, you still come and see me while you're in such pain?" He seemed shocked. But you aren't sure why, you'd walk on hot coles and crawled on your hands and belly to kneel for him. You'd do anything for your master. And you could only hope as his favorite... you wouldn't let him down. Finally you lifted your head from his chest, pulling his hands from your hands, leaving a kiss to his knuckles. One day. One day you'll have him.

Kagaya Ubuyashiki × Slayer reader Trope: unrequited love/lovesick/slow burn

Special Part two of Forbidden love with Gyomei × demon

Imagine how the rest of the slayers flock around Gyomei, asking him so many questions. And he couldn't even answer them all. Too consumed by his disbelief that the person he'd fallen in love with so deeply, had turned out to be a demon.

Imagine how he layed in bed lonely and... missing you. He began to long of your cold touch, your voice, your laugh that was so contagious to him. He missed you. He'd fallen for you. Demon or not. He laid in his bed trying and failing to get even a wink of sleep. But just as he had almost fallen asleep he was awoken by a sound. 'Tap tap' was the sound, 'tap tap' on his window. "Gyomei... my love..."

Imagine how he practically leaped from his bed. Demon or not you had carved yourself a spot in his heart. Slamming open the window and pulling you inside, his hands instantly feeling over your cheeks, your nose, your neck. Kissing the knuckles of your cold hands.

Imagine being the one that made Gyomei for a moment stay from his faiths. Gyomei devoted his life to his beliefs, that includes waiting. Waited all his life for the one. Saving himself and waiting. But you both were in a unique circumstances... so from that point on Gyomei promised himself to you. You would stay with him in his home and he would always come back to you. That night he would kiss you, love you, lay you under him while he whispered for you to be his.

[tired-biscuit]

i want to ride yuuji so bad and then start crying cause he’s so thick and big and then have his strong arms wrap around me and then he starts thrusting up and we’re both drooling and moaning that would be a dream

18+ MDNI, fem!reader // cw: good girl, good girl, GOOD GIRL!

he’s cooing at you while caressing your cheeks and wiping your tears away, and it’s all so goddamn sweet that it outright hurts; in a good way, though.

always in a good way when it’s with him.

especially because he does it so effortlessly? being kind is like second nature to someone like yuuji and it’s hard not to melt into a puddle of gooey emotions and spill even more tears when he’s looking up at you with hearts in his warm honey-coloured eyes and there’s this prominently lovestruck look on his face that makes him look even dumber than he already is.

but he’s also cute, awfully so. his hair is an absolute mess, his lips are in the colour of dark pink from all the kissing, his cheeks are flushed, and his skin burns so hot that he’s sweating like crazy underneath the thick hoodie that he’s still got on. you’ve been in such a rush to get him inside you that you’re both still completely dressed, aside from the bits of clothing that have been tugged down and pushed to the side in order to make the entire thing easier for you, of course.

however, having all these layers on is simply excruciating. the heat makes him pant and causes his chest to heave in a faster rhythm than normal; and all those breaths make it somewhat hard to get all the praise that he feels for you out of his system.

but yuuji is no quitter. so he swallows the runny saliva that keeps on gathering in his mouth between sentences and threatens to spill past the corner of his lips. it’s audible and it makes his adam’s apple bob in his throat, and yet he still manages to thank you in hushed, trembling whispers and broken grunts and moans.

he thanks you for being such a good girlfriend; for being so willing to give it a chance when it comes to riding him and taking him in all the way, despite the fact that it’s only been a couple of days since he’s taken your virginity and your most sensitive parts are still sore and tender from all the gentle pounding — but pounding nevertheless — he had done after getting his first taste.

you feel heat sear your face as you listen to the jumble of gratitude he’s putting before you and look at him from underneath your lashes, trying to not pay mind how tears still cling to them as stubbornly as ever.

this entire thing has not gone the way you’ve imagined it to go at all and it’s frustrating as hell. and how couldn’t it be? i mean, you’ve known how big he is, have known how it feels to have him inside you, but jesus fucking christ, this position is nowhere as easy as missionary had been — and even then you’d struggled a great deal.

because now, you’re the one who has to do all the work while he sits there, looking pretty, sometimes eyeing how your arousal glistens on his pubic hair, even though your clit hasn’t come anywhere near to kissing the spot from how much of a hard time you’re having when it comes to sitting on his dick entirely.

if only you could just—

“hey,” he says the word with such care as he cups your cheek that it sends butterflies twirling in your belly. his hand is just so big, it urges you to pet yourself against it like a little kitty. “you okay?” yet another look that’s brimming with concern is thrown your way. “we don’t have to do this if it’s too much, you know… just tell me.”

“did you really mean all that?” you mumble the exact moment his hands reach for your hips, clearly aiming to manhandle you into a position that you’d be able to endure a bit better.

“mean what?” he asks, glancing downwards just for a second as your hands stop his own. his cock twitches in response — he’s always been such a sucker for hand holding and this time is no exception. when your fingers intertwine, his heart sings in answer.

“that i’m a good girl?” the eye contact that you initiate in return is determined instead of anxious all of a sudden and it makes his pupils visibly dilate right in front of you.

it seems like you’re no quitter either.

“‘course i did,” yuuji replies in a heartbeat, cherishing how you squeeze around him whenever he gives you his approval, his praise. “you’re such a good girl, my good girl, the goodest girl to ever walk the good girl planet... they should make you mayor of goodie town.”

you giggle at that and his smile quivers with pleasure from how it makes your pussy tighten even more. he’s doing everything he can not to grab you, press you against his chest and just follow instinct and start slamming away.

maybe next time… maybe you’ll be ready for it next time.

“you’re so silly,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss him again, though this time on the forehead. his skin tastes salty, and while it may be wrong, knowing that you’re not the only one that’s having a hard time right now makes you feel just a little bit calmer.

unbeknownst to you, the fact that you’re more relaxed allows you to take yet another inch of him inside you. your muscles slacken and his fat cockhead drags against your walls as a result, slipping and pushing in, in, in. the ring of cloudy white slick forms just a little below the lower half of his cock now, stretching you further and making your tummy feel hot and tingly.

it’s definitely progress.

and it makes poor yuuji moan straight into your mouth.

[empresskylo]

trigger warning: age-gap, dub-con

john price knowing how wrong it is to think one of his sergeant's daughters is attractive.

he knows that when your father brings you to base one day, showing you around, he shouldn’t be looking at you the way he is. but the way you wore such a cute little skirt, exposing your soft legs, fuck, he found it hard. and the cute little bow you wore in your hair. he knows that shouldn’t be doing it for him… but it is.

and fuck, you’re way too young for him. how old did your father say you were? in your twenties? way too fucking young for the likes of him. and off limits. but when you give him a big smile, introducing yourself, he knows he shouldn’t have called you “doll.” the way you get shy at the pet name. fucking hell, he knows everything running through his mind is wrong.

he knows it’s wrong when he bumps into you as you find yourself on base rather often. how his hands linger on your back as he rights himself, the way you flush under his gaze, struggling to hold eye contact. and he definitely knows he shouldn’t be wondering what kind of underwear you have on. does it have a little bow? or are you wearing a lacy thong?

when you wander into his office one night, your father working late, he knows he should ignore you, ask you to leave. but he doesn’t. his eyes follow you as you stroll around the room. he knows he shouldn’t spin toward you in his chair as you approach, asking him innocent questions. he knows it’s wrong when he stands up and begins explaining the answer to you and you innocently move to sit on his desk. oh, and he definitely knows it’s wrong when he sits back down in his office chair, trapping you, your legs dangling off his desk in front of him. he sees the way you stutter, get all choked up at the close proximity.

he knows he shouldn’t take advantage of you, the way your lips part when his hand touches your exposed thigh. when you mumble “c-captain—?” confused at what he’s doing. he shouldn’t keep going, shouldn't want to elicit more bashful sounds as you struggle to compose yourself. knows he shouldn’t spread your legs in front of him, making your eyes widen. shouldn't grab your knees, pry your thighs apart. “what’re you—?” he knows he should have stopped then, but he didn’t. his fingers were too fast, finding the softness of your panties, stroking your core through the fabric. he had been waiting so fucking long for this. you were plaguing his thoughts. he didn't have a choice.

and you should have gotten up and ran out, but you didn’t. your legs fell a little more open for him, never imagining your little crush on your dad’s boss to amount to anything. and when price’s eyes go dark, his mind reeling with how you’re actually letting him touch you, you whimper.

and that was the end of price’s control (if he had any to begin with). everything else be damned. he no longer cares if it was wrong. he didn’t care that you were forbidden fruit. fuck, he had to have you. needed to have you. wanted to hear you make more sounds, and how your hand flew to your mouth to muffle the noises, embarrassed. “don’t go shy on me now, sweetheart.”

and when he pushes your pink panties to the side, letting his thick fingers slide into you, he groans. “so wet f’me?” he clicks his tongue. that’s when he realizes how badly you’ve wanted this too. how an older man who knows what he’s doing has enticed you. bet you’re wondering what it’s like to be with someone whose not some clumsy boy. but a man who cares about your pleasure above his own.

you gasp as he picks up speed, his lips tipping up as your eyes flutter. “feel good, sweetheart?” you nod vigorously, making him chuckle.

when his fingers leave you, you pout. “ever do this before?” he asks. your embarrassed reaction is answer enough. no, you haven’t. and that shouldn’t have made him groan. shouldn’t have made him stiffen even more in his already tightening pants. fuck, you were so innocent. and he was going to ruin you. ruin you for any other man.

so when he has you laying back on the desk, his cock in his hands, notching it between your thighs, he promises to go slow. you’re just so tight. “fuckin’ hell,” he curses when you flex around him. “this hurt?” he asks you, a bit out of breath.

you nod and he gives you a little kiss. “jus’ let yourself get used to me, doll. relax. there you go, atta girl. let me in, sweetheart.” he grunts as he bottoms out. your arms wrap around him and you whimper, feeling so stuffed.

he knows he should stay slow, let you take your time. but he can't. no, he thrusts into you, ignoring your yelps, and then he's done for. he keeps a steady pace rocking against you, already so close knowing no man has ever done this to you before, he remembers he never locked his door. the way his desk is bumping against the floor, someone might come in to investigate. and that someone could be your father.

he’d see his little girl, shirt shoved up to her chin, skirt hiked up around her waist, her arms wrapped tightly around his captain whose at least 15 years her senior as he thrusts into her, making her moan, taking her virginity roughly against his desk.

price knows he should tell you to quiet down, to not make so many noises, but all your little cries and mewls are sending him closer to the edge. his fingers find your clit and you mewl. you gasp and struggle to breathe, the sensation of everything so overwhelming. “gonna come for me, sweetheart?”

“i-i think so,” you stutter, tears streaming down your cheeks. he picks up his pace, his hips slamming into yours, his hand groping your breast roughly, sure to leave bruises. “that’s it, sweet girl,” he praises as he feels you tightening around him. feels your walls spasm. and when you finally orgasm, your body shaking under his weight, he spills himself inside you.

and he knows he should have pulled out. knows he should have used a condom. but he didn’t. in some sick twisted way, this was his way of claiming you. and you did so well letting him fill you up. your ankles tighten around him as if you don’t want him to leave. so he doesn't stop himself from spurting ropes inside you, the white liquid seeping out around his shaft.

you sit like that for several beats, arms grasping at him, clawing him against your chest, before he chuckles. “gotta let me go, sweetheart. don’t worry, i won’t go anywhere.” your legs fall away from him, realizing you are holding him hostage.

he groans when he pulls out, the way you leak all over his desk. he shouldn't enjoy that sight, the way you're laying languidly on his desk, out of breath, shaken up, his come dripping out of your weeping cunt.

but he does know he should help you up, clean you with a spare shirt he finds in his office. adjust your skirt and shirt so they sit properly again, your arms weak and limp at your side. kisses your forehead and tells you how good you did for him. tips your chin to look up at him, "really?" you ask, eyes hopeful and full of life.

"such a sweet girl," he coos, guiding you out of his office. and he knows your father won't have a clue. won't even notice the way you limp slightly as you walk. probably thinks his captain is so nice leading you through base, keeping you company while he works late.

and price knows he shouldn't do this again, shouldn't even think about doing it again. but you were just so good to him. so perfect as you let him have his way. your tiny gasps, the way you clawed at him, how tight you were. he wasn't sure he was strong enough to hold himself back.

cod masterlist

[chocogoldie]

Love Slip

bakugo katsuki x fem!reader

genre: fluff

contains: established relationship, a bit suggestive at one point

short continuation of Nip Slip 18+

It's been a while since the two of you started dating. Approximately three months, two days and forty-three minutes. But who's keeping count?

During your time together, you've come to learn many things about the blond ticking time bomb:

One, he's a very organized and clean guy. He has to-do lists separated into categories in his phones' notepad app, a strict schedule he follows everyday to stay in shape — not that he needs it, but getting to brag about being able to lift you up certainly strokes his ego — and an extremely neat room that stays neat no matter what. He brushes his teeth three times a day, eats healthy meals, has a proper skincare routine and smells of sweet caramel even when he's dripping with sweat coming back from the gym or from an intense training session with your classmates. ln short, his hygiene is top notch.

Two, he's a little bit of a gym freak. Not that you'd ever mind, you even find it hot most of the time, but sometimes he gets provoked by his other gym buddies, mainly Kirishima and Kaminari, to try out all sorts of exercises with you on his back. Push-ups, squats, even yoga poses, literally anything they can think of just to see if it'd work. You've fallen on your ass more than he'd like, or care, to admit. Not because he wasn't strong, no, but because you cannot concentrate on holding onto him for the life of you, always getting distracted by the way his muscles flex and how he grunts from exertion. It's a sight for sore eyes, strands of hair sticking to his forehead while his usually spiky hair dampens and falls down beautifully, framing his face. It reminds you of your first night together, so of course you wouldn't be able to pay attention to anything else. You don't mention how incredibly good he looks in his compression shirts. Yes, he bought multiple after you oggled him up and hinted at loving the way they fit muscly men.

And last but not least, he's clingier than anyone you've ever met which is a stark, and quite frankly adorable, contrast to his sharp appearance. You're working on some assignments? He's bringing you food and making himself comfortable on your bed while putting on a weird dating show on the TV, occasionally checking up on you to remind you to take breaks. You're going for a quick grocery run? He doesn't waste a second to throw on whatever clothes he can find and join you, walking around the store with the shopping cart and imagining you two as a married couple well into your marriage shopping for your little family. You're taking a bath? Scooch over, he's helping you wash your hair and back. You're feeling sad? He's bringing your favorite ice cream and listening to you vent while gently running his hands over your face, back, thighs, arms, anywhere to soothe you. He cradles your face when your sobbing gets louder, pressing his forehead against yours to help ground you into reality, to snap yourself out of your worries by murmuring “I'm here, baby,” or “I got you”. All in all, he's a big softie for you.

He often shows his affection through his actions, but sometimes when the two of you are alone and in the silence of your bedrooms, he pushes his embarrassment aside and spills his heart out. He vents about hero work, about how he doesn't think he's good enough, or rather, nice enough to be a hero, always ending up berating people to hide his true intentions and words. It's something he's always struggled with, but he's been working on it constantly with you, his friends, and in therapy. He tells you everything about what happened during his time in highschool, how the man literally died for a minute, and how much that impacted his life onwards. You listen intently and comfort him through it, crushing him into a tight embrace to remind him you're there for him as well and that you'd do anything to make him happy. He tells you that your presence is enough.

He whispers soft “I love you”'s each night before you two drift off to sleep, letting his hand rest on the small of your back underneath your shirt, needing to feel your skin against his to be able to sleep. The warmth your body provides gets rid of his reoccurring nightmares and allows him to sleep soundly throughout the night with you by his side. And he very quickly realizes he never wants to lose you. Ever.

Because he might've slipped into having a little crush on you, but he willingly chose to fall in love with you.

© chocogoldie 2024. do not translate, copy, or repost.

a/n: a little smth i came up with while waiting for the poll to finish :3 hope u enjoyed it! not proofread

[iid-smile]

toji would...

if they were dating you series.

help you zip up/unzip your clothes without even realising it. in winter, it could be a particularly cold day, and the two of you would want nothing more than to wrap up in blankets, whether that's on the couch or in bed. the second you step through the door, he's unzipping your jacket first, and not his, giving you enough time to get yourself anywhere warm before he locks the door and takes off his. this could expand further when you're showing him a new dress you bought, just holding the material up with your hand so he could get an idea of what it looks like, because you can't reach the zipper at the back. as he walks up to you, he always zips it up completely first before getting a good look at your outfit. sometimes he'll walk out of the room afterwards, and this guy is seriously deaf when he's at home, so he won't hear you struggling or asking for help to take it off.

try to be a gentleman. he definitely isn't the perfect boyfriend and he knows that. you looked a little too envious when you eyed another guy opening the car door for his girlfriend and helping her out. or the other time when a different guy held an umbrella over his girlfriend while getting soaked himself. the next time the two of you went on a date, he actually tried to style his hair, wore nicer clothes, and took you to a restaurant that would usually be above his budget. and he did everything. bought you flowers, opened the car door, guided you with his hand on your lower back, pushed the chair out for you, and the most surprising of all, covered the entire bill. all of it was just too unnatural, and it was clear he did research beforehand. nevertheless, it was really cute seeing toji make an effort.

wrap you up too tight. it's rare that the two of you hug, but maybe it's all of that muscle he's got that's squeezing you every time. or maybe it's the fact that he probably thinks that he actually isn't holding you tight enough, because he just can't feel it. if you're sick, or just laying around in bed, his immediate instinct would be to roll you up until the the thickest blanket he can find. maybe out of care, maybe because he likes pissing you off.

scare off little kids. if you work a daycare, school, anywhere where children are, do not let him visit! just seeing all of those tiny troublemakers all over you gets him so jealous. just imagine how afraid they must get when a huge guy like him walks up to you and snatches you away. it would eventually get to the point where the braver kids would form a wall of anything they can find, including their own bodies, to keep him away from you. make sure to reassure him that you love him a lot, or he gets really sulky. it's even worse when it's just any random kid that approaches you. maybe for help looking for someone, to give you something, to give you a compliment, anything. you'll have to give him a big scolding when they run off crying for their parents.

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[wolfiihoney]

Nanami is the type of husband who… ᧔࿔᧓

︶︶⊹ ୨ I love writing about nanami ୧ ⊹︶︶

Part 2 of my “the type of husband who” series.

Unedited, srry loves <3

Nanami is the type of husband who refuses to text you and will call you just because you texted a simple "hi."

Nanami is the type of husband who makes sure to learn how to perfect your favorite coffee or tea, so when you wake up in the morning it’s already there waiting for you.

Namami is the type of husband who can communicate his feelings VERY well and will help you with yours.

Namami is the type of husband who always yearned for marriage so when he got it, it became somewhat of a badge of honor. (Gojo also got him a “The Best Husband Ever” shirt for a wedding gift because he knew Kento wanted to be a husband and Nanami wears it as a bedtime shirt😭).

Nanami is the type of husband who doesn’t show public affection, but he will hold your hand with the occasional little back rub.

Nanami is the type of husband who wants babies and a lot of them. He always knew deep down that he wanted little ones running around but pushed the thought away because of his job (that’s until he met you).

Nanami is the type of husband who loves nicknames and rarely calls you by your real name. He prefers "darling" and "love".

Nanami is the type of husband who likes to wake up early but hates waking you up early because he knows how much you love to sleep, so he’ll just lay in bed watching you sleep, rubbing your hair. (He’s a super, loving man).

Nanami is the type of husband who works way too hard and needs a vacation every so often. he always lets you pick the destination though. (he took you to Malaysia for the honeymoon of course).

Nanami is the type of husband who LOVES to cuddle and will randomly grab a book and your hand to go out and cuddle in the big hammock in your backyard (just imagine that seriously).

Nanami is the type of husband who loves giving you what you want and struggles to say no. Do you want those nasty chips that have too much red food dye? Go grab a bag baby. Want to spend all night watching princess movies and eating candy? He’ll go fetch the blankets.

Nanami is the type of husband who adores the colder seasons and will randomly come home with 4 bags of fall decor (he’s so wholesome).

Nanami is the type of husband who is oblivious to how adorable he is. he does the cutest things throughout the whole day and when you bring it to his attention he’s just like “Oh”.

Nanami is the type of husband who you will hear in the next room bragging about how “smart and amazing ” you are, You'll randomly hear him say “My wife made the most lovely bread today” to one of his co workers.

Nanami is the type of husband who gets shy when his students ask to see a picture of you because they can’t believe he actually got married. (he shows them a thousand pictures of you lol).

Nanami is the type of husband who loves back scratches. He doesn’t like to expect anything from you but he will expect back scratches.

Nanami is the type of husband who holds your legs up so he can vacuum under where your legs are (he’s way too strong).

Nanami is the type of husband who starts a little book club with just the two of you and he looks forward to it every other week.

Nanami is the type of husband who will secretly feel betrayed when you take a nice bath without him because that’s something he likes to do with you.

Nanami is the type of husband who loves to take care of you but also loves when you take care of him. (He likes being babied and you are the only person who will ever know that information)

Reblogs are definitely appreciated ♡♡♡