#you decide I’m not your moral compass | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

seeingivy · 7 months ago

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3:45 am

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

an: I can't find the request, but someone asked for a sukuna version of the 3:45 am chapter of roommate eren! here it is <3

“why do you have such a shit face?”

you look up from your computer to find sukuna lingering by the door – fidgeting with the buttons of his collar and the end of his tie – as he spares you an irritated glance. it’s one that you return right back, before hunching back over the table and focusing back in on the lab report you were writing.

“i’m talking to you.”

sukuna shuffles over to your side, before crouching down till your faces are side by side, the breaths coming out of his nose tickling the bare skin on your shoulder.

“i have such a shit face because i looked at you.” you mumble.

sukuna sucks in a breath, almost like he’s trying hard to conceal his laughter, before he pulls closer, leaning his chin on your collarbone. the proximity makes it hard to ignore the sweet smell of his shampoo, which only gets worse when it’s accompanied by the sharp scent of his cologne.

“is that any way…to repay my kindness?” sukuna questions.

you roll your eyes, lightly jolting your shoulder up to get him to stop leaning on you. and he takes the hint just as much, as he draws up the chair at your side and pulls closer to see the molecules that you’re constructing on your computer.

“you know, when you said you were going to do this favor for me, i wasn’t exactly expecting that you were going to hold it over my head this way.”

ryomen sukuna was just an acquaintance – who happened to be in the wrong place, at the wrong time – and then he wasn’t.

it’s because he has a moral compass. or because really, he feels guilty for not telling you earlier – especially when he’s seen other friends of his in the same position as you. so when he found you down on your luck – getting cheated on by your boyfriend, who you lived with, by your best friend of all people – he offered you the extra room that he had in his apartment.

i’m lots of things, but i’m not a sadist. that’s what he said when you snuck out in the middle of the night, all of your things packed into a box that you subsequently emptied out into the free room that he offered. he had hell to pay from your ex-boyfriend the next day, the two of them jostling it out on the basketball court, before they both got reprimanded by the coach and decided to keep their distance

sukuna isn’t a bad roommate. he isn’t exactly a good roommate per say either. because the sweet kindness that he offered you wore off around the second day and you realized that really – he was one of the most irritating people that’s every walked the surface of this earth.

he brought over girls – tons of them. and when you asked him to keep it down, just so you could get some assignments done or study for an exam, he’d make it a point to bring multiple girls over – just to see the irritated expression on your face.

he’d make up for it of course. because what he lacked in face-forward politeness, he made up for with his quiet gestures. like making you breakfast the morning of said exam – set with a matcha latte that he learned how to make special for you, because you don’t like the taste of coffee. or whenever he found you crying, he’d always let you rant it out – but not without giving you a few insults about how you had no standards here and there.

“i think it’s dumb as fuck that you aren’t going tonight.” sukuna says.

you slam the enter key on your computer.

“your opinion has been noted.” you respond.

“then come.” he grates.

athletes at the university get to attend a formal at the end of each semester. it’s a nice dinner, accompanied with a horrible DJ, and a weird mix of sentimental speeches.

really, it was actually your idea of fun. only because it always felt nice to go to events like this. it was one of the few excuses you had to use the pretty dresses that you had in your closet, actually blow out your hair to make it look nice, and use the pretty glitters that your sister had given you for your birthday last year.

and even more than that, it always felt nice to be shown off. because you’d meet tons of people who had heard all about you – the coach, the athletic trainers – who’d all give you sweet comments about how you were far too good for your boyfriend, who would then make some silly comment about how he never knew how he got you to talk to him in the first place.

sukuna offered to accompany you. and also promised that he’d sneak some kind of contraband in so that the two of you could actually have fun – but it was something you denied. you denied most of the offers that he made that were similar to this, even though he was quite persistent, only because you knew that it wasn’t the right time.

for better lack of words, you felt like a kicked dog. and you needed time to recover – before you could see your old best friends, or your ex-boyfriend, or really anyone outside the three circle rotation of people that you were able to tolerate.

“i won’t have fun. and i don’t want to be a downer on the one night that’s supposed to be for you.” you respond.

“well, you’re always a downer. so it won’t exactly make a difference.” sukuna responds.

“thanks. that really makes me feel better, sukuna.”

“i live to serve.” he responds, before bracing his hands against the table and pushing off.

he spares you one last glance before stopping at the mirror near door, toussling with his hair and the piercings hanging from his ears. it’s a passing thought that you immediately banish – that panging in your chest at the thought of sukuna enjoying the night with a lanky girl on his arm.

“you know, if you stare for any longer, you’re going to fall in.” you respond.

“hilarious.” he deadpans.

“who are you going with? i’ll have to make a phone call and let her know that she’s just going to have to find her own ride.”

“no one.”

you feign shock, pressing one of your hands to your chest – and really, trying to hide the secret delight that you’re reveling in.

“wow. did hell freeze over?”

“just didn’t feel like it. this type of shit is always kind of boring.” sukuna responds.

you shrug.

“i don’t know. i always thought it was kind of fun.”

sukuna turns around, sparing you one last glance.

“you know, i do recall that you would stand in the corner and talk to the moms all night. that sounds like my personal nightmare.”

you smile.

“well, that’s just because the moms don’t really like you. i however get along with them quite well.”

sukuna rolls his eyes.

“i’m sure that’s true. i’ll see you, okay? don’t sleep too late.”

you give him a sly look.

“worried about me?”

“no, you just look ugly with eye bags.”

you do not take sukuna’s advice. instead, you finish up your lab report and open a bottle of pink wine – to accompany you in your endeavors to watch ten things i hate about you.

and it goes considerably well – until you hear a slamming pounding on your door at 3:45 am. you reach for the closest jacket, one of sukuna’s hoodies, before pulling it over your shorts and peeking out of the peephole.

you swing the door open.

“right. hi.”

you pause.

“megumi, right?”

“yeah. just bringing sukuna back. he’s plastered.”

you look down to where he’s gesturing to find sukuna slumped against the wall, offering you a half hearted smile from his bloodied nose.

“right. well, thanks for bringing him back. what happened to his face?”

“same as last time.”

you roll your eyes, as megumi drags sukuna up by the arms. he stumbles in the air, leaning his weight against you, as you shoot megumi one last smile before slamming the door shut.

the sweet smell of his shampoo and cologne is gone all together – now replaced with the mix of metallic blood, sweat, and the faintest smell of beer.

“sit down, sukuna. i’m going to clean you up.” you mumble, trying to stabilize him in the air to stand by himself.

“y/n?” he asks, before stumbling in the air.

you reach forward, trying to brace his fall as he looks down at you – suddenly somewhat awake as his face breaks out into a small smile. he reaches forward, bringing one of his bloodied knuckles to cup the side of your face.

“y/n.” he whispers.

you swallow the block in your throat in your stomach.

“don’t try to sweet talk me. i’m mad at you.” you respond, dragging him towards the center before leaning him against the kitchen counter.

you reach down to the bottom of the sink, setting a glass of water aside and pulling out the little box of first aid that you had put together once you got here and put it at his side. you open up the neatly organized compartments, pulling out the gauze and the alcohol wipes, before turning back to him.

“don’t be mad, princess.” he mumbles.

you feel your cheeks burn.

“don’t call me that.”

“isn’t that what you are? my little brat?”

you scoff.

“are you trying to insult me?” you ask, reaching for his left hand first and swiping the area clean.

“you have no…no idea what i think about you.”

you reach for the wrappings, tucking them in against the callousness of his hands, as he looks down, locking his fingers in with yours. and then he leans forward, snaking one of his hands around your neck.

you quickly shuffle yourself out of his embrace, before lightly pushing him back. he seems to take the cue, before you lean forward again, slightly hesitant this time, as you wipe the area around his nose.

“why’d you fight with him this time?”

sukuna scrunches his face up – irritated at the mention of the past few hours.

“nothing he didn’t fucking deserve.”

“right. last time, he missed a three pointer and you socked him in the face. so let me guess, he was two hours late today and you just got carried away?”

sukuna scoffs.

“he was running his mouth.”

your curiosity has piqued.

“about?”

“you.” sukuna slurs.

you smile.

“so glad to see you had sound judgment tonight, sukuna.” you respond, voice dripping with sarcasm.

sukuna leans forward, his lips a little too dangerously close as he rests his hands at the sides of your waist.

“he brought that stupid bitch with him.”

“sukuna.” you warn.

“he brought. that stupid bitch with him. and he had the nerve to stand there and talk shit about you.” sukuna responds.

you reach for the glass and place it in his hands, offering him a smile.

“just drink the water to sober up a little bit. it’s late.”

sukuna gives you a glare, as you let go of the glass, only for him to spill the entirety of it on you with his shaky hands. he barely registers that he did it – and you suppose that it’s really your fault for trusting him to hold the glass on his own – as you swing your arm around his torso and lead him towards his room.

he flops onto the bed as you rummage through his drawers, pulling out a pair of pants and shirt for him as you turn back around.

“sukuna. get up and change and you can sleep all you want.” you coax.

he responds with an unintelligible noise – further muffled by the fact that he’s face down on the bed – as you reach for one of his arms and pull. he somewhat works with you, sitting up as he wobbles, and reaches for the tie around his neck and tosses it aside.

his first struggle comes with the buttons. because he can’t seem to coordinate his fingers well enough to push the buttons through the holes – and obviously, with the short temper he has, gives up in all but three seconds.

“help.”

you roll your eyes as he stands up, leaning against you as you reach forward, and slowly unbutton down the length of the shirt.

“you drive me crazy, you know that?” sukuna whispers.

you ignore the comment as you pull the shirt down the length of his arms – exposing the tattoos that you’ve always wondered about, that peek out of the sleeves of his shirt or neck. you hand him the shirt, which he tosses aside.

“too hot.”

“okay, well. just put the pants on and then i’ll leave. i’ll turn around.” you respond.

you turn around, twisting the rings on your fingers as you wait for him to finish, only to me met what could possibly be your worst nightmare.

“y/n. wait, fuck. you have to help.” he whines.

you turn around to look at him, only to find that he’s still wearing his pants.

“what?”

“the button. i can’t…”

you feel your throat dry.

“sukuna. i can’t…take your pants off for you. just try harder.”

“just fucking help me.”

you shake off the nervousness, as you bend down on your knees, trying to squint through the dark light to find the button. except before you can fully do it, sukuna reaches for your biceps and somewhat harshly pulls you up.

“wh-”

you look up to find him swallowing hard, before he talks.

“it’s like you’re trying to make this difficult for me. don’t get on your fucking knees to do it.” sukuna responds.

“how else am i supposed to see it?”

sukuna doesn’t respond, as you shake your head and feel down the length of his pants, before you find the button. and surely enough, it’s hard to push but you get it after a second try, and turn around as sukuna switches the pants he’s wearing.

and you almost make your sweet escape before he tangles his fingers around your wrist and pulls back. his fingers are fast on your waist as he turns you around, somewhat toppling your balance so you’re leaning against his chest – and stuck in his embrace.

“stay.” he whispers.

“you are so fucking drunk, sukuna.”

“stay, please. i don’t want to sleep without you.”

you shake your head.

“my hoodie is wet. i have to change.”

sukuna shakes his head.

“are you wearing anything underneath? you know i wouldn’t mind either way.” sukuna whispers.

“a tank top, but really. i have to go back to –”

sukuna’s fingers are fast – since he apparently has enough coordination to help you with this – as he pulls it over your head, before setting his hands back around your waist. the way he’s looking down at you, eyes wide, makes you shiver as he leans forward, and presses his fingers against your collarbone.

“you have a tattoo.” sukuna whispers.

you laugh.

“so do you.”

and it makes your skin shiver, when sukuna snakes his hands underneath your shirt, leaning forward to press his lips against the inked skin on your shoulder, unable to contain your surprise. the tufts of his hair tickle your neck as you lean back, placing your hands on the sides of his face.

“you’re drunk.”

sukuna pauses.

“is that the only reason you’re saying no?”

you shake your head.

“go to bed. you don’t even know what you’re fuckking saying right now.”

“just stay with me.”

sukuna releases his grasp, instead reaching for both of your hands and squeezing at your fingers.

“please. don’t leave me alone.”

“okay, okay. let’s just go sleep. we’ll talk in the morning.”

you wake up to the most haunting sight known to man – sukuna hovering over you.

“jesus fuck.”

sukuna laughs as you press your palms into the sockets of your eyes, pushing as hard as can as you very quickly remember the events of last night – of the shivering feeling of sukuna’s lips on your neck and the horribly embarrassing moan you let out when he did.

“oh god.”

you open your eyes to find sukuna still hovering – an almost too excited grin painted on his face – his silver necklace hanging in the air.

“give me permission this time.” sukuna states.

you widen your eyes.

“i beg your pardon?”

sukuna snakes one of his fingers under your waist, using the other to trace the outline of your tattoo again, as he leans closer to you, the distance dangerously close considering the events of last night.

“give me permission.” sukuna asks.

“you…”

sukuna rolls his eyes, before leaning forward and pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“if it wasn’t clear, i think about you very often. irritatingly enough, i’m actually very fond of you. so much so, that i turned down that fucking barista from the coffee shop last night and went to that fucking party by myself..”

“marie?”

“is that her name?” sukuna asks.

you bite down on your cheek.

“i also gave someone a beating for you and got suspended from playing for two weeks, so just give me fucking permission now.”

“you got what?”

sukuna leans down, resting his chin against your bicep, as he eyes you again, before pressing a kiss to the skin.

“give me permission.”

“you’ve already kissed me twice.”

sukuna shakes his head.

“cmon. i need to hear it.”

you shake your head, suddenly hyper aware of the fact that your heart is pounding in your chest as you look down at him, brown eyes peering into yours

“um. okay? ….yes. or yeah, whatever, i –”

all you hear is an excited chuckle before his lips are against yours, hands almost rough around your neck as he pulls you up, till your straddling him in his lap, hands secured around his neck. and you can tell that he’s enjoying himself far too much – from the way he smiles into the kiss, before pressing three, four, and five kisses to your cheek.

you fight the urge to smile at him fully as you lean forward, cupping his face in your hands and eyeing the cut across the bridge of his nose.

“have i repaid your kindness yet?” you murmur.

sukuna pauses, before leaning in.

“no, i think i need a little bit more.”

taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @sugu-love @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks @timmytimmytucky @dreamxiing @mamamamamarga

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midnightarcheress · 9 months ago

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Simon has a new assignment.

pairing: bodyguard!ghost x actress!reader 1 | gold rush masterlist.

after years exhausting his body in the military and too many losses to count, Simon decided to retire. goodbye extensive deployments, food and sleep deprivation, constant adrenaline pump in his veins, hours spent washing the blood off of his fingernails. except he didn’t truly retire. life as a civilian again was too strange, too boring. he thrives in following orders and being the best at it. he missed having a purpose, even if it’s far from saving the world.

so, because of that, he agreed on joining a private military company as a contractor. never takes the dirty, mercenary-like jobs though – despite being rusted, his moral compass is still there, so he usually sticks with the security, training, bodyguarding type of work. easy enough to not take a toll on his body, and to not strain his conscience with the worry of ending innocent lives to cover up some bastard’s filth, but demanding enough to keep his mind out of his own life for a while.

the guy on the other side of the line doesn’t tell him much about the new task. bodyguard for an actress, indefinite time, details via e-mail. a few minutes later, the computer screen lights up with the case information and his eyes skim through the text; famous actress, has been receiving threatening letters and who ultimately has a stalker. a seemingly uncapturable one, as the police have not been able to trace them for months. incompetent wankers. in his prime he would locate terrorists with ease; nothing he couldn’t do right now, but his contract was strict – keep her safe and keep to yourself.

he doesn’t recognize the name, but the small picture attached to the message is slightly familiar, maybe from one of the times he spent hours flicking through the channels on the telly while battling a crippling insomnia. his brows knit together when he peers at the set of rules that accompanies the e-mail. no talking, no touching unless extremely necessary, must keep distance at all times.

in the months he’s been working in the company, he never had a job with an actual celebrity – mostly politicians and businesspeople, extremely straightforward and simple to execute, usually for a short period of time. he’s convinced that it will be the longest mission of his life, probably dealing with an entitled rich woman who’s used to having everybody begging at her feet.

dread fills his mind as he watches the trees quickly passing by his window on the car. the drive to the meeting is short enough to contain the rate of the antipathy brewing on his chest, but long enough to make him question accepting the assignment.

he pulls up on the driveway and walks towards a tall, modern building, filled with frantic people walking from side to side. glancing at his phone, he re-reads the details of the reunion; second door on the 23th floor, her manager will be expecting you. his fingers tap on the side of his thigh as the lift raises to the office level, eyes glaring at the mirror in the back of the platform. the image on the glass differs from the one on his past – military buzzcut and skull-printed balaclava replaced by messy blond locks and a neck gaiter, still covering a bit of his face even after all this time. old habits die hard.

the doors pry open right after the number appears on the screen and he walks down the hallway to the office, stopping on his tracks as he notices a feminine voice coming from inside the room. “i’m scared just as much as you, but is this really necessary?” she’s in there too? wasn’t the meeting only with the guy?

“yes, princess, it is necessary. do you want to make the front-page news as a corpse?” another voice can be heard responding, this time, male. must be the manager. “in case you've forgotten, i’m also your friend, and i’m merely concerned about your safety. we cannot let that stunt from last week happen again.” stunt. he recalls part of the information on the file, depicting how she was almost assaulted by a weirdo that followed her on the street; however, the creepy prick was cleared from being the stalker and left the station on bail. great justice system.

“we’ve already increased the security on your house, he was just hired to keep you safe on the outside.” he decides to stop eavesdropping and knocks sharply on the door. “must be him.” the man says, and he listens as footsteps approach the entryway.

“well, hello there. please, come in,” he steps aside, allowing Simon to enter the room. the office is fairly average, leather couch on one corner, portraits on the wall of what he assumes are the man’s clients, but all of the attention goes to the large windows showing a perfect view of the city. “so, i’m Daniel, the great manager as you may know," he smugly speaks, "and of course you already know her.” he gestures to the woman on the armchair.

the woman from the picture. the woman from the late night movie he was absentmindedly watching on a late night. you. you look the same as he'd seen before, but somehow entirely different. the warm sunlight coming through the glass shines on your skin when you stand on your feet, golden flecks twinkling in your irises as you offer him your name and extend a hand to greet him, sweetly mouthing “and you are?”

he shakes your hand with a firm grasp, stirring away the sudden void in his brain and swallowing the lump on his throat that hindered his words. “Ghost.” easy detachment. his gruff voice reverberates in the space as he repeats the orders in his head, the sense of doubt starting to cloud his judgement. keep to yourself. maybe the job won’t be as bad as he thought.

been a bit obsessed with this idea so i decided to write it and see how it goes.

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nekropsii · 11 months ago

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ALPHA TROLLS RANKED BY HOW WRONG THE FANDOM AT LARGE IS ABOUT THEM:

This is a personal challenge, based entirely on my own experience and perspective, and also ranked from Most to Least Correct. I was bored, and thought this might be fun.

Putting this under a cut, because it's long as hell.

MEULIN LEIJON

People get her mostly correct, from what I’ve seen… Most of the time, fan content of Meulin is absolutely recognizable as Meulin, but her pride in her deafness + joy of learning new ways to interact with the world through/due to her disability is always removed, and I do not often see people tackle the Toxic Positivity aspect of her character. That seems less like character assassination, though, and more like a combination of people not actually playing through the Openbounds, people not being able to fathom disabled people (especially those who gained a disability later in life rather than being born disabled) being happy, and general fandom distaste for the idea of touching anything uncomfortable, especially when that uncomfortable topic is highly mundane, normalized, and potentially applicable to them or their loved ones. Meulin’s toxic positivity was, of course, commentary on Tumblr’s ecosystem at the time, so… It was much harder to touch back then.

ARANEA SERKET

People tend to get her general, broad strokes personality right, but unfortunately she gets treated pretty roughly for the crime of Being A Serket. People refuse to understand her motivations, and she often gets demonized for what she was doing around/during [S] Game Over, even though that was something she’d gotten pushed to and also was cool as fuck to watch. God forbid a woman do anything.

DAMARA MEGIDO

People are right about the racism, 100%. It is completely despicable, hard to look at, and extremely blatant. She does, however, have character outside of that. No, it isn’t “whore”, it’s more like “angry, dysfunctional abuse victim”, and she’s genuinely a very interesting and tragic character. But, again, people are right about the racism, so she gets to be placed way up here.

MEENAH PEIXES

She is such a chaotic little bastard. I love her. I really do. Please understand that she genuinely does not understand the concept of consequences. This girl didn’t have a Lusus, she didn’t have parents, it was functionally illegal to tell her “No, you can’t do that.” That would fuck up literally anyone’s moral compass. That’s not me hand waving away all the fucked up and bad shit she’s done, we all know what she did, but people tend to forget this aspect of her character and it pains me deeply, because it is a very genuinely interesting concept that I want to see more of. She’s capable of regret, we’ve seen her feel it, I just don’t think foresight is her forte. No one raised her to consider consequences, or help her experience them in a healthy way, because nobody raised her period.

Also, her ass is not butch, she is the girliest girl in the entire comic. She is about hot pink and glitter and kiss marks and unicorns and cute little puns and you will respect that. She is not masculine. Her ass is not masculine nor is she butch. Let her be her hyper-feminine self.

LATULA PYROPE

Please for the love of god there is more to her character than “Gamer Girl” and “Mituna’s Girlfriend”. You are falling for her fucking ruse. Please. Please. Please recognize that her entire character is about internalized misogyny, and being forced to overcompensate for misogyny in gaming circles as a gamer who happens to be a woman. Please. I’m begging.

KURLOZ MAKARA

His character is not that deep, it’s mostly just a string of events he is mysteriously, inexplicably involved with. The Makaras are extremely Function Over Form- their characters practically do not exist, they're mostly just plot devices that exist to push the story along. I'm sorry to Makara fans. You just invented a guy in your mind and decided he was real. He is also not that soft, though, and his relationships with both Meulin AND Mituna are not healthy. Hard to stop people from ascribing cutesy squishy lovey dynamics to random men who happened to have looked at each other once, though. Some people truly haven't graduated from 2012.

HORUSS ZAHHAK

I am begging people to consider that maybe the biggest issue here is not that he is “Bad Otherkin/Therian Representation” and is in fact maybe the fact that Hussie was actually making fun of Systems when he was writing Horuss. Because Horuss is canonically a system. He uses the word system. He uses the word switching. He uses the word host. He literally talks about his Plurality at length in extremely upfront, plain terms. I don’t know how him being “Bad Otherkin Representation” was and still is the main discourse about him. It makes me insane. That is a commentary that truly writes itself. Talk about having your priorities out of wack, honestly...

PORRIM MARYAM

No, she is not a MRA, she’s just a regular feminist who happens to live on a different planet with different politics and social hierarchies from Our Real World Earth’s USA. Whatever argument you’re about to pull out of your ass to say that she sucks is bad. She already explained what she meant by that, in more detail, very clearly, and she was right. Half the time she’s literally just giving you factual information about what Beforus was like, and literal plot synopses. She isn’t saying anything insane. She’s literally normal. I don’t know why people cannot handle or process this. Porrim has not ever said anything controversial. If you disagree with this you’re either misconstruing her on purpose or you fell for Kankri’s bait, and that’s just fucking sad at that point.

Also, she’s more than a sex object, and her tits are not huge. Honestly, half the shit she was saying was just “I am more than my sex life”, and so many people took that and made her main character trait her sex life. Just pathetic.

RUFIOH NITRAM

This man is a fucking war criminal and I will stop at nothing until he is behind bars for his crimes against Damara. Raging misogynist. Total fucking cunt. Just the worst. If I talk any more about this, this part will be 1,000 paragraphs long. But also, I’m begging people to recognize his relationship with disability, too. He was similar to Meulin in the sense that he didn’t mind his disability, and his biggest gripe with it was the way that Horuss tried to “fix” it… Which is an interesting way to expand upon how Beforus’s culling system is not only very explicitly ableist, but mimicking real world systemic ableism. I also want people to recognize that Hussie is actively having a conversation about the reclamation of slurs with Rufioh’s character, and how not letting people reclaim such language is doing nothing but giving the word power against them while stripping away their own personal agency. Rufioh’s a complicated guy, and he’s interesting and also the worst, and I am really tired of how he gets watered down to nothing but “Pretty Boy Victim Of His Inexplicably Psycho Ex”.

MITUNA CAPTOR

Holy Fucking Shit, You Guys Are Ableist.

KANKRI VANTAS

To this day I see people saying he was just Hussie making fun of SJWs. To this day. To this day people think Hussie was trying to make Every Tumblr Leftist look bad, and that he hates them Because They Are Leftists. When will people recognize him as a bootlicker to the oppressive class and the violently bigoted. When will people recognize that. When will people recognize that this is more of a commentary on the legitimate real flaws of Tumblr’s politics at the time. When. When.

When will people stop portraying him as a lovey-dovey Catholic Whore. I’m going to stab my fucking eyes out and then kill everyone in this building. Me when it's based and cool to ship an aroace character with a sexual predator. I GUESS.

CRONUS AMPORA

I say this with every ounce of sincerity I can possibly muster as a person: What the literal actual fuck.

#homestuck #homestuck fandom #alpha trolls #beforan trolls #dancestors #damara megido #rufioh nitram #mituna captor #kankri vantas #meulin leijon #porrim maryam #latula pyrope #aranea serket #horuss zahhak #kurloz makara #cronus ampora #meenah peixes #nekro.pdf #nekro.txt

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iamthatonefangirl · 4 months ago

Note

hey i love your writing and i was just wondering if you could write a harvey x yn thing? could you do the scene in s4e15 where harvey and donna are having the deep conversation and at the end harvey goes “you know i love you donna”, except with yn? thank you lovely!!!💗☺️

i can't believe it took me two months to get back to you anon. i am so sorry. hope this scratches your itch!

~~~

As a third-year associate at Pearson Specter Litt, you had been working in the field long enough to understand how the job worked. Winning cases and making a name for yourself were always at the back of your mind, trying to climb the ladder and one day be just as good as Harvey Specter. You admired him as an attorney, and far more as a person.

The Liberty Rail case was one you believed you could contribute quality work to while adding another case to your winning streak.

In your younger years, you had always been so self-assured that throughout your career, you would maintain the rules and laws as they had been set. That was the job, anyway; your strong moral compass and desire to do right in the world had led you to Harvard for law school, and the rest was history.

Somewhere along the way, though, the lines got blurred. You had gone your entire career watching Harvey cross lines, so it was natural that you would learn the same bad habits. You couldn’t point to any one moment to explain when or why you suddenly decided that breaking the rules would lead to better outcomes. Perhaps it was because you admired Harvey’s skills so greatly; perhaps it was for other reasons.

You were desperate for a win in this case, because there was no way you couldn’t win it. That’s what you thought, until you found yourself lying to a receptionist to get access to documents illegally.

You were so excited to have done something for the case, for the firm, for Harvey. You wanted him to be impressed by you. Your feelings for him might have been the driving factor in your choice to commit fraud, wishing you could do something to influence him so he would think of you more highly.

Wishing you could have more of his attention.

Now, you were just lucky that Harvey had been able to get you out of the situation you’d created.

~~~

“Thank you, Harvey,” you told him quietly after an evening of wine and appetizers.

Harvey hadn’t been over to your place very often given that you were professionals. The odd time or two had happened, what with an odd dinner party you’d just laughed about with Harvey. It felt weird to have him in your space; he was like a foreign entity among the tangible items you called yours, and you longed for him to belong in that category, yours. But he wasn’t, and you reminded yourself of that every day.

“You don’t need to thank me. You already thanked me.”

“No, I thanked you for fixing it. Now, I’m thanking you for not bringing it up all night.”

You didn’t think this situation would ultimately come back to bite you in the ass when you got yourself into it. You supposed that in a worst case scenario, you would be able to cover up your tracks and Harvey would never have to find out.

He would never be disappointed in you if he didn’t find out.

Although, deep down. you almost craved to feel his disappointment, because it was the closest you could come to feeling his rejection. To moving on.

“I just figured if you wanted it brought up, you’d bring it up. And now you have, so…” He paused to stare into his glass. “I told you I’d never let anything happen to you, and I won’t, ever. So you don’t ever have to feel scared like that again.”

You felt a familiar pang in your chest, accompanied by the burning in your stomach you felt whenever you were brutally confronted with the reminder that he didn’t want you. His words clawed at your heartstrings, reminding you that he did truly care about you. Just not in the way you hoped.

You tried to brush off what he was saying to you, commenting, “I thought you said you didn’t do the ‘comfort’ thing.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t do it, I said I didn’t have time, because I was so busy saving your ass.”

Once again reminded of the lengths he went to for you. And all you could feel was pain.

“I’m sorry I doubted you,” you told him.

You knew deep down that you could never doubt him, you just didn’t want him to have to clean up your mess. When you tried to convey that to him, it came across as though you didn’t believe in him. You would never be able to tell him how much you believed in him, day in and day out. You believed he was capable of so much, and you loved him dearly for it.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

Your thoughts were overwhelmed by your desire to kiss him in that moment. The way he looked at you made you think that maybe, you weren’t just a crazy little girl desperately in love with her boss. That maybe, you could have more.

“Anyone else ever loses faith in me, it doesn’t matter. But with you, it’s different.”

He still had that look on his face. You thought he might just lean in and give in to you. Thinking about it melted your brain–

“I should go,” he said somberly, to your dismay. He stood, and your heart just about shattered.

Out of nowhere, a wave of confidence shot through your veins like adrenaline, enticing you to stand up and make sure he knew what you wanted.

“Why?” you asked.

“You know why.” You shook your head to indicate that no, you didn’t. You wanted to know why.

“You know I love you.”

Your brain short-circuited.

~~~

“You know I love you,” he expressed, having mustered all the courage he could to be open, to be vulnerable with you.

But you didn’t budge, and he had his answer. So he turned, and began to walk to the door, wondering what he was supposed to do next.

Was he not enough for you? After all he’d just gone through to protect you, he didn’t expect you to be jumping all over him, gushing that you loved him. It would have been nice, though, if you had.

You probably just assumed he was covering his own ass and you were just a liability to him. You could never be a liability to him.

As he rested his hand on the doorknob, he felt you gently pulling at his shoulder. He turned his head, and then the rest of his body, to face you. You looked back and forth between his eyes cautiously, before looking down at your hand on his shoulder. You slid it down to his chest, now resting both hands on him. He tried to keep his breathing steady. Had he been wrong? Had you truly felt something all this time?

As you brought your hand behind his neck and pulled him down to meet your lips with his, all of his worries went away.

~~~

#harvey specter x reader #harvey specter #suits #fem reader #harvey specter x you #self indulgent #self insert #suits tv #my writing

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sophiethewitch1 · 1 year ago

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A Dramatic Irony

A/n: Trying to combat writer's block so I decided to do this little drabble. Spoilers for the WHB prologue, and also includes my theory that MC will turn out to be God in some form or capacity. Because why the hell else would the angels turn over to our side?

GAME IS 18+ THIS DRABBLE ISN'T, BUT EVEN THE PROLOGUE HAS ADULT CONTENT! MINORS PLEASE BE SENSIBLE!!!

“So, it was you? This whole time?” His lips graze against your throat. He’s warm, of course he is. All that holy light spilling out? He’s so warm it’s almost uncomfortable.

Everything about this is uncomfortable, really. But of course, like always, you’re at the centre of it. Of every situation, from the depths of hell to the cloudy tops of heaven.

“I’m not Him,” you grit out, your body shivering. You don’t dare move. Not with Gabriel, the man who had sworn to kill you, who had chased you over hell with armies of feathered fiends, with his teeth at your jugular.

It doesn’t matter the way he shakes just the same as you. It doesn’t matter that his fingers skim delicately - reverently - across your stomach. It doesn’t matter that those eyes that before looked at you with absolutely nothing inside, now seemed to overflow. With love, obsession.

You know, before all this, you’d been an atheist. Before an unholy angel had crawled out of your computer and a righteous demon had saved you and your best friend’s life, you had thought God couldn’t exist. That the world couldn’t be so cruel if someone like Him truly did exist. That your childhood wouldn’t be mired in tragedy, that you wouldn’t struggle to get out of bed every day. That you wouldn’t have to blink away flashes of the scent of copper and soap.

And of course, then you’d made a deal with the devil. You’d gone to hell. You’d broken countless contracts, and warred against heaven. You’d had to fight for every second of your life, and you’d done it bitterly, angrily.

Angry at this God that had disappeared, and angry at His stupid mistake of making every angel madly in love with him. Angry at how He never thought of the consequences of his actions, of how He never imagined a world He wouldn’t exist in. How just by your birth, you’d been destined to suffer. How your parents would have died no matter what, how you would always have had to walk this thorny path.

How He never seemed to consider what could happen when you created one of the strongest beings in the universe and forgot to give them a fucking moral compass.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he murmurs, ignoring your words. His too-warm body crowding in too close to yours, as your fists curl against his chest, desperately trying to push him away. It’s no use because no matter what’s in your blood, you aren’t strong enough - what is Solomon’s, and what is His.

Because, apparently, those stupid mistakes you’d cursed God for, were yours.

“I’m not Him,” you repeat, hands moving to claw at his throat. He doesn’t react beyond a small sigh of pleasure, curling into your touch like a cat in the sun. “I’m not Him. I don’t have His memories. I’m not Him.”

“I told you, didn’t I? I didn’t have any negative feelings towards you. I’m sorry, I’ll fix it. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. Please, just let me stay by your side?”

It’s such a strange dichotomy. The angel who sees this as a beautiful, miraculous reunion. And you, who sees this a tragedy. One you could never escape. The angel from before, swinging his scythe at your throat, and the one who now presses plush lips against that same skin. It’s too ironic, isn’t it? It just can’t be true. It just doesn’t make any sense.

“I don’t want you by my side,” you sob, but he just shushes you, pressing kisses against your head and across your face. He licks up your tears, groaning at the taste.

It’s too cruel. You have to wonder if the old you, the one you can’t remember, ran from this.

His hands tighten around your waist. It doesn’t really matter what happened before, because you know you won’t be able to run this time.

#what in hell is bad #whb #whb gabriel #what in hell is bad gabriel #whb x reader #yandere x reader #yandere drabble #whb gabriel x reader

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sunonyoreface · 2 months ago

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He Knows - Simon "Ghost" Riley Pt. 20

An: Not sure how to start this haha. Hi. It's been over a year but here we are. If you're an old reader, thank you for your patience and for deciding to come back.

Word count: 2410

As the shadow’s grip tightens around my wrist, it feels like a match is struck within me and lit alight with fear. It burns hot within my chest, searing the flesh attached to my bones, causing my entire body to tense. Yet the fear and the pain don’t cause me to shut down. Something has fundamentally changed in me throughout these last strange and inconceivable weeks.

When he leans over me, it’s like the match has lit up his mask, allowing me to see every movement and intention in complete darkness. My fear no longer shuts me down. I feel more awake than ever. More infuriated than ever.

But I’ll be damned if he finds out.

“Miss me?” his voice is just as vile as it was last time.

I bite my tongue. Speaking now would only give him more reason to do harm.

“Probably not as much as you miss Suds though,” His strong grip yanks me upward into a sitting position. The tightness of his fingers twisting around my wrist painfully pinches my skin. I don’t dare utter a single sound. “Hey? Cause you haven’t been with him all week. Which begs the question: What the hell have you gotten up to, Birdie?”

“Nothing,” I mutter through bared teeth. “When I’m not in Captain Price’s office, the Lieutenant locks me in here.

“So Ghost babysits when Suds is gone. Eh? What’s he like?”

Bennet’s question throws me off guard. What’s he like? Of all the things to talk about, this is what he wants to focus on? Not the trade-off or Price’s supposed secret plans or the Ultranationalists or their impending betrayal. Just Ghost.

There has to be more to his words.

“Quiet,” you can smell the uneasiness on my breath. It carries my words and hangs pungent in the damp air.

“Wanna know something about Ghost?” he asks. My stomach turns. Of course, I do. But he’s counting on that. He wants to know just how interested I am in the Lieutenant. I also know that whatever he’s about to tell me probably isn’t true. He wants to drive a bigger wedge between myself and 141 so my loyalty remains with my father. Except I’ll never be loyal to my father.

I shrug my shoulders in response. I don’t know if he sees or if he cares, but I do know he wants to scare me.

“He tried to kidnap your mother before settling for you,” Bennet’s words taste like the bile rising up the back of my throat. Sour and acidic. Like expired milk. “Do you really think they would stop with you? They’ll never stop. Not until your family – our family is torn to shreds.”

I should have known. I want to feel shocked, but there’s a mental block in my brain stopping me. I. Should. Have. Known.

“Our family?” my voice wavers.

“Yes,” he hisses. “Our family. What? Do you think Ultranationalism is just a movement? It is so much more than that. We are so much more.”

“How come they didn’t get her?” I dare to ask him the question buzzing around in my mind. The hidden bug slips my mind. Our ears are far from the only ones present. Ghost at the very least will be listening. Maybe Soap. Maybe Price. Maybe some higher-up that I’ve never heard of. Nothing in this room is a secret.

Who’s to say it’s true anyway?

Yet, who’s to say it’s not? Sure, the Ultranationalists are liars. So is 141. So is Ghost. Of all the people here, he has kept the most from me.

Truth out here has a different meaning. Every single one of their moral compasses has been skewed by war’s magnetism. Even the men who are objectively fighting for peace and democracy are not on the moral high ground they believe themselves to be. None of their hands are clean. Especially Ghost.

“Our team intercepted last minute. Captured their crew. By the time we discovered their plan to take you too, we were already too late. Little Bird, this was never about you. Your father wants you to know that,” his grip on my wrist releases as he leans back, off the bed.

“Does he forgive me?” my throat tightens as the question barely escapes as a whisper.

“He’s working on it, the shadow’s words are swallowed by the darkness. “But he needs your help. We need to know what angle Price will take,”

“I’m not allowed in the room when they discuss that stuff. They don’t trust me.”

“You must’ve picked up on something,” he urges.

I pause for a moment and think. Of all the different conversations I’ve witnessed, surely something must stand out. Something that is safe to share and won’t hurt 141.

“I mean I don’t think they actually intend on going through with the exchange,” I start. However, this isn’t new to him. Neither side plans on cooperating with the other. It’s a recipe for disaster. “They don’t want my father dead. They need him alive for intel on my uncles. But I also think they might be moving on. Price and Ghost discussed intercepting other families. I think the same way they did with me,” it’s better if he thinks I’m clueless. So much has changed since that conversation. They aren’t moving on any time soon. Not when they’re so close.

“Do you believe them?” his question isn’t inherently strange. It’s the fact that he’s asking my opinion that catches me off guard. Does he genuinely want my input? Does this mean I’ve gained his trust? Not likely.

“I don’t know,” my chest is tight. “Well,” I change my answer. “No, I don’t think so.”

“You shouldn’t,” he starts to slowly pace the room. His mind is racing. There’s so much that needs to be done in so little time. If only I had just an inch of the rope, they’re tying my noose with. Then at least I’d know what tree they planning on hanging me from. “You’re expendable to them,” Bennet turns toward the bed again.

“And not to you?”

“To me?” his tone quickly turns to something akin to amusement. “No, you’re quite expendable to me. But your father? He sees you as part of our cause.”

“He never brought it up before,” the curious part of me always wins. I have to know. Something. Anything. Even if it's completely fabricated.

“After everything, do you think he’d still lie to you?” the shadow stills and his eyes turn to slits.

“I- no,” we both know it’s a trick question.

“He said your wings will take you far and high, little bird,” for a moment, I almost hear the words in his voice. They sound like something he’d say when I was young. Like stories from lost times.

“But if it was up to you, I’d be dead already,” I shift back to our previous topic.

“Of course,” he says like it is obvious. “But if you stick with 141, they’ll do it for me. You’re useless to them after the exchange. Nothing more than collateral. Even you, are smart enough to know that,” am I though? Hasn’t some hopeful part of me genuinely believed I might actually survive this mess?

“It’s crossed my mind,” my sullen voice lags with a false sense of exhaustion. Yet, I feel more alert than ever.

“Well let it cross again. Into our territory. With your family,” a deep, raspy sigh escapes his chest as he takes a step back from the bed. In the silence of the night, I can hear his scarred lungs rattle like an old pickup on its last leg. But he’s got ‘miles to go and promises to keep’. This shadow isn’t the kind of man to go back on his word. There’s a reason he’s made it to where he is today. “Think about it,” he says as his hand silently wraps around the metal handle.

The door opens and shuts without a sound. When he slips into the darkness, I know this will be the last of our witching-hour meetings. His words haunt me like the last wishes of a lost soul. There’s more truth to them than I’m brave enough to admit.

I almost mistake the soft raps against the door as one of those spirits. Haunted? Maybe. Spirits? Only of the men who’ve died at his hands. Only in the sense that his name brushes across soldiers’ lips like a curse: If you see him, you’re dead.

The knock was just a courtesy. A warning. Ghost enters the room with a large hunting knife in hand. The matt carbon blade is almost impossible to spot in the night. It’s the way his sleeved arm is held at his chest – ready to strike – that gives him away.

Just as one shadow leaves, another appears. Dressed in all black and moving as silent as an unspoken thought. The intensity of his eyes burns as they bore into holes through the darkness.

He knows Bennet is gone. That doesn’t stop him from clearing the room anyway. He reaches under the desk, pulls out the bug, and twists it apart, rendering it dysfunctional. The tiny pieces are slipped into his pocket.

No one can know he’s here.

The words he’s about to speak should never meet the air.

I haven’t had any time to process what just happened and now he’s appeared within moments to remedy an undiagnosed illness.

It feels pre-emptive. Like he knew this was going to come up. Like he’s planned for it.

“Are you okay?” His thick English accent slowly fills the space.

I’m not interested in small talk. I need to know the legitimacy behind the shadow’s words.

“How much did you hear?” I ask. The adrenaline is running low in my veins. I feel the shakes approaching behind me like an unwanted guest at a house party. Creeping and on the verge of cutting into our conversation.

“All of it,” Ghost crosses the room to my bed. He hovers at the edge with his fists clenched at his sides. His trigger finger twitches, expecting confrontation. I stand from my seated position, but he still towers over me.

“Is it true? Did you try to take my mom?” this conversation feels borderline repetitive of everything that went down in the cabin. Every time I think all the details are out in the open and he’s finally being honest with me, I’m proven wrong.

And every time, the Ultranationalists pick at my healing scabs, causing streaks of blood to smear across my fragile skin. It’s an ugly look. One that lacks patience and self-control.

“Affirmative,” the resignation in his voice is concrete. Ghost doesn’t even try to hide it. What else is he leaving out?

“You’re a fucking asshole,” the bitter words fire in his direction. I feel stupid. I feel played. As though they’re all still treating me like a child.

“Y/N,” he quietly warns. His voice refuses to move above a whisper. Who knows what ears are listening outside that door.

“No. Fuck you,” I point at him with a quivering hand. “You’ve had days – no – weeks to tell me this. Why didn’t you say anything, Simon?”

“It was classified,” he automatically responds.

“You’re so full of it,” I cross my arms and fist my hands. I’d be smart to shut my mouth for the rest of my time here. I’d be smart to do a lot of things differently than I have. Yet that’s not an option. “What else are you keeping from me?”

A deep sigh pushes through the black ski mask. One that’s no longer worried, but hinting at frustration. The pause before he speaks is long and filled with words that’ll never see the light of day. “You know I can’t answer that.”

“You can,” I urge.

“I can’t. That’s the nature of my job – of my life, y/n,” I can feel the heat of his chest as he steps closer. “There will always be secrets. The things I know are worth killing over.”

“But if it’s about me, I deserve to know,” I push harder. Surely, he has to understand where I’m coming from.

“Just drop it,” the coldness to his voice is usually reserved for lower-ranking soldiers. I feel it nip at my skin and travel through my bones in an unnerving kind of way. Yet I can’t drop it. Not when it’s my life at stake.

“You can’t come here and expect me to ‘just drop it’ Simon. You came here. I didn’t ask for help,” the annoyance is audible in my voice. “I deserve to know. What is it? Do they really plan on killing me?”

“Of course not,” he scoffs. Ok. So that much is the truth. At least to him.

“What, then?” my brows furrow as my chest impatiently heaves. Why did he bother showing up if all he’s going to do is shut me out?

Simon reaches for a strand of hair, but I duck away from his grasp. The gloved hand falters, before falling back at his side. I know I’ve struck a nerve when his shoulders stiffen and the heel of his boot shifts half an inch back.

“I wanted to make sure you were safe,” the rejection turns his voice stoic. “Goodnight y/n.”

As Ghost turns and heads for the door, he tightly grasps the knife at his side. I consider biting my tongue, but that’s never something I’ve excelled at. “Leaving me in the dark is far from keeping me safe.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Simon looks back as he grasps the handle. There’s a glint so faint it’s almost hard to spot behind his eyes. For a moment he almost doesn’t look real. “You’re safer hidden in the shadows. There’s no going back once you’re exposed to the light.”

He doesn’t wait for my response. I don’t have one to give.

As Ghost leaves the room, I’m left with a sinking feeling in my stomach.

It fades for a while as the hours drag and I drift into a strange type of sleep. Yet, the feeling returns when my door opens in the morning. When I see his face I know today is the day. They can’t afford to wait any longer. The Ultranationalists are ready. 141 is ready.

It isn’t Soap or Ghost or some other foot soldier who’s come to retrieve me: it’s Captain Price.

#simon riley #cod ghost #ghost imagine #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #he knows #cod

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blitzyn · 1 year ago

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rookie mistake

dottore x m!reader

Request: Requests are open right? I hope so 🤞 Would I be able to ask for a sub!(male/amab)reader X dom!dottore? With some blackmail and coercion, preferably leaning towards dubious consent but I’m am a-ok with non-con elements, with a fatui/subordinate reader? If you could add in a small scene of him continuing while talking with someone outside the door that’s be awesome 😎 - Anonymous

Synopsis: You accidentally invade Dottore's office in search of intel.

a/n -> yall i know that i said i was on the fence about writing for genshin, but it was dottore and i love him plus i really liked this idea despite it having collected dust in my inbox for decades. whoever requested this: i love your mind and im so sorry it took me forever to decide to write this!! but just a reminder to whoever sees this, i will not be writing for fontaine unless stated otherwise!!

wc -> 3.6k

cw -> non-con, blackmail, coercion, blowjob, deepthroat, literally getting caught, spit as lube, anal fingering, anal sex, standing doggy position, fatuus/infiltrator reader, guys he calls you a rat because you're a spy, not beta read

Your job was straightforward. But it was also one of the most grueling missions you've ever been assigned to.

With your status as an elite spy, you were tasked with infiltrating the Fatui as one of their ranks to gather information regarding the locations and purposes of specific forts to prevent potential attacks and keep the organization from acquiring knowledge valuable to their cause.

There was absolutely no room for error, lest you get caught and pay for that mistake with your life.

Fortunately enough, the mask everyone was required to wear (with the exception of the Harbingers) concealed your identity, allowing you to execute your orders with relative ease. Of course, it wasn't completely simple. You had to fight your way up the ranks in order to even get a hint of the plan from your superiors, which took years to even get recognized for your efforts.

Several times have you had to go against your moral compass. Several times, you doubted your abilities and questioned if you were even making a dent in the Fatui's plans. Although, when you heard a faint argument due to a lack of resources, you knew you were on the right track.

But one day, you noticed that an agent's office door was left unlocked. There was no one in the hallways, and not a soul knew that you had stolen an important document that recorded data for some valuable supply that you didn't care enough to read about.

Making sure you tucked the paper deep inside your coat pocket, you strained your ears to ensure you were alone before taking the risk and entering the isolated office. It looked like your standard room. Boring, silent, and strangely barren of many decorations. You took a moment to inspect the area before deciding to take a step forward when your blood suddenly ran cold.

"I don't use this office very often," a voice said from behind you. You just about jumped out of your skin, swiveling your head to the person behind you. It took you a moment to put a face to the name you'd heard so many times before, but when you did, you quickly regretted your decision to search for any additional information. "But even so, don't you think it's rude to invade someone's personal space?"

You froze, unable to find the right words. Nothing could explain why you were currently snooping around in an office that wasn't yours—much, much less when it belonged to the Second of the Eleven Harbingers.

You inwardly cursed your naive eagerness to do more than you were asked. Your years of experience as a spy should've kept you from making such a rookie mistake, and now all your work was going down the drain.

The two of you stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, fighting the urge to fidget at the overwhelming feeling of his gaze on you, analyzing your appearance. He broke the silence with a hum, neither intrigued nor entirely disappointed.

"I have heard others spread rumors of a mole within our ranks but thought nothing more of their words as an excuse for their inability to secure our resources," Dottore mused, raising a hand to his chin. "I assume that the mole is you?"

You couldn't bring yourself to reply. Your throat was dry, and your stomach twisted into knots. Not that he cared.

"I must applaud your efforts," he said, a slight smirk decorating his pale face. "Not many people evade our eyes so easily, and for as long as you have."

"But, a word of advice—" He reached into his pocket, pulling out a familiar device. He presented it to you, watching in amusement when you suddenly patted yourself down before looking back up towards him. It was the device you used to contact your organization. "—Make sure you clean up after yourself. It's impolite to leave your items lying around."

You don't remember dropping it or forgetting it somewhere. But that didn't matter anymore. You were stuck in the present with no way of getting out of this situation.

He flipped the device over, dully inspecting it as he continued talking. "After going through your data log, it wasn't hard figuring out what you were going for next. While this normally wouldn't spark any interest in me, this resource just so happens to be vital in my current experiment, and I can't have you tampering with my results."

He walked forward, stopping just a few feet in front of you. He was close enough for you to inhale his scent of sterile rubbing alcohol and metal. It made your nose burn as you watched him intently, tensing and fighting the urge to back away out of fear of angering him somehow. The document in your pocket felt unusually heavy.

"Although, I didn't expect such a seasoned spy like yourself to make such an amateur move," he hummed, ignoring your need for personal space to pull your mask off. And you were helpless against it all. "[Name] [L.Name], is it? Why don't you read the paper you have right now?"

That's when you knew you fucked up big time.

With a shaky hand, you reached into your coat pocket to pull out the report, unfolding it only to realize that it wasn't a report at all. It was a blank piece of paper. But you could've sworn there was writing on it when you grabbed it earlier!

He could see the confusion on your face clear as day as a laugh left his lips, tapping a rolled-up piece of parchment on the tip of your nose to regain your attention. "I believe this is what you're after." With a flick of his wrist, he unfurled the paper that contained everything you needed.

"What—" you gasped, briefly staring at your paper before looking back up.

"It's a shame you didn't think to check the ink before you took it," he said, faux disappointment laced in his voice before it reverted back to its normal tone just as fast. "The ink 'disappears' when subjected to anything higher than room temperature. When you put it in your pocket, your body heat, coupled with the insulation from your coat, affected the writing and turned it invisible."

Fuck.

He planned this out.

You swallowed nervously, taking a deep inhale to steel your nerves, even when it didn't do much to help you. "How... how long have you known?" you couldn't help but ask.

"Not long, really," Dottore casually replied, as if he didn't hold your entire life in the palm of his hand. "I caught you just in time."

"Now," he said with a voice that demanded your attention. Not that he needed to try, anyway. His very presence was almost impossible to ignore. "I'm willing to offer you two options. One, I hand this device over to one of my lovely agents and have them torture you for answers then promptly dispose of you. Or, two—" He waved the communicator in the air, taunting you. "—I have you make it up to me."

It was obvious which one you'd be more tempted to accept, but you knew that accepting an offer such as this from Dottore, of all people, was not a good idea. He knows he has you right where he wants you.

"The second one. I... I'll make it up to you." The words tasted like acid as you forced them out, watching a pleased smirk rise on his face.

"Good," he muttered mostly to himself. Leisurely, he turned around and walked towards the door, shutting it before refocusing back on you.

"Get on your knees," he ordered, placing his hands behind his back as he waited for you to move. He observed silently as you obeyed, staring at the floor in shame. "Crawl to me."

He sighed impatiently upon seeing the conflicted and perplexed expression on your face. "You want to be a rat so badly, don't you? So get down and crawl to me like one."

You were given no choice but to comply despite the absurdity of his request. Hanging your head, you inched forward as the cold, wooden floors painfully dug into your knees, stopping once the sight of his boots came into view. You held back a flinch when you heard the fabric of his clothes rustle as he leaned down to lift your head up by your hair, forcing you to your knees.

Instantly, your eyes zeroed in on the prominent bulge in Dottore's pants, making you painfully aware of what he wanted you to do next. With a suspiciously gentle tug, he brought you slightly closer to him. You could tell he was getting impatient.

"Well?" He questioned, a frown gracing his features. "You don't need instructions. Go on."

You glanced up at him with blatant disgust in your eyes before raising your hands to undo his pants and reveal his semi-hard cock. You suppressed a grimace as you held it in your hand, steeling your nerves just enough to be able to lick a stripe down the side. Flattening your tongue, you moved back up to take the tip in your mouth, letting your saliva slip past the corners of your lips to lubricate the rest of his dick.

You half-assed it all, not bothering to take it all the way down or, at the very least, use your tongue. However, Dottore caught on quick enough with an annoyed sigh. You supposed you shouldn't have been surprised when he tangled his fingers into your hair and shoved you down, but you were caught off guard either way.

You were embarrassed to hear a loud gag sound from you, choking and sputtering on his cock whenever the tip of it slid down your throat. You dug your nails into his thighs when he suddenly shifted and pressed the sole of his boot onto your dick, letting out a muffled cry that only served to please him. He made no move to rub it against you, simply keeping it firmly on your crotch—to keep you in line, you assumed.

You squirmed, internally cringing at the feeling of your drool seeping out the corners of your lips. Fluttering your eyes shut, you tried to focus on your breathing. In and out, in and out, in and—

"Don't look away," he said, refusing to give you a moment of respite, shoving his cock all the way inside your mouth, harshly tugging on your hair at the same time. He fucked your face, ignoring your sounds of protest as he battered your throat. He laughed at your struggle, entertained with the way your tears gathered at your lash line.

"Awh, is this too much for you?" He taunted, shifting his hand to the back of your head to push you down to the base. He sighed contentedly at the feeling of your throat tightening and spasming around him, gently rocking his hips. "You should've thought that through before you accepted the job."

With a painful tug, he pulled you off of his cock. A trail of saliva connected you to him, which you quickly broke when you turned your head to cough into your elbow. He ordered you to get up, unwilling to wait a second before he hauled you up by your arm impatiently. He effortlessly moved your body, pressing your cheek against the wooden door as he pushed on your back, forcing it to arch.

Deeming your position acceptable, he tucked his fingers underneath the waistband of your pants to yank them down to your knees. Your breath hitched at the sudden change in temperature, refusing to lean back and seek any warmth from Dottore.

With one hand on your hip, the other strayed toward your ass, spreading it to inspect your hole. It took effort to keep yourself from fidgeting under his gaze, and you opened your mouth in a daring attempt to get him to hurry up when he suddenly spat on your hole, shoving two fingers inside soon after.

You let out a grunt, clawing at the door he had you lean against. It was an uncomfortably foreign sensation but you were in no position to struggle. A burning sensation emanated from your hole as his fingers forced their way inside, wasting no time to move in a scissoring motion. They brushed against a spot that sent sparks up your spine every so often, taunting you wordlessly.

"You're enjoying this," Dottore said, not as a question or comment, but as a statement. And the worst thing was, he was right. No matter how much your mind made you hate it, your body told a different tale.

You let out a displeased sigh, pressing your forehead against the cold door, not daring to make your words known. Not that he minded. He enjoyed forcing your reactions out of you just as much as having them given to him without a fight.

He made it known with a jab to your prostate, sending a shock up and down your spine so suddenly it nearly made your knees buckle. That was all he gave you before abruptly pulling away, leaving you uncomfortably empty until the quiet ptuh! sound of him spitting on his cock filled your ears.

Fuck. This was actually happening. And you had no way out.

In a last ditch effort to maintain your dignity, you tried to push yourself off of the door but was quickly pressed—borderline slammed—back down with a hand to the back of your neck.

"I don't think you'll enjoy the alternative," he said, the undertones of irritation and impatience evident in his voice. He squeezed the sides of your neck hard enough to ensure your compliance, nearly scowling when you shifted in place. "So be still and behave like a good little thing."

Without missing a beat, he lined the tip of his cock up against your slick asshole and pushed his way inside, forcing a strained cry from your throat. He made sure it hurt, purposefully moving slowly to make you feel every inch and vein.

You whimpered, trying to breathe and calm yourself down. The stretch fucking hurt and you instinctively shifted your hips forward in a futile attempt to ease the pain when Dottore held your hips to yank you back, shoving the last few inches inside you.

You let out a strangled groan, biting your lower lip to stifle your noises as searing pain tore through you. You breathed heavily through your nose, feeling the weight of disgust settle in your chest when you heard him sigh in satisfaction at how tight you were. You winced when he pulled out slowly, only for him to slam back inside with a loud slap.

You jolted, just about ramming your head against the door in surprise. You grit your teeth and pressed a hand against it as the wood audibly creaked and groaned under your weight when he began to move. You tensed upon hearing faint voices beyond the door, peering back over your shoulder in a pathetic attempt to get him to stop.

"W—Wait," you muttered, breath hitching. "There's someone outside...!"

"Then I suppose you're just going to have to be quiet," he replied with an upward quirk to his lips before angling himself in a way that made his cock press up against you just right. You were disgusted to feel heat beginning to pool in your gut, forcing moans past your lips no matter how hard you tried to stop them. You covered your mouth with a hand as you listened to the noises approach. Dottore was (somewhat) merciful enough to press his pelvis against your ass, though that didn't stop him from rocking his hips to cruelly grind his cock into your prostate.

"Dottore?" It took you a moment to process the voice as electricity shot up and down your spine, trying your damn best to stifle your whimpers. "Are you in there?"

It's Pantalone, you recognize.

"Yes. Is there something you need from me?" Dottore replied, shifting his hold on you to start shallowly thrusting. You squeezed your eyes shut, listening to the painfully loud squelching.

"Not at the moment. I thought I heard something... else," Pantalone hummed with a knowing tone, sending a wave of mortification through your body.

"Then if that is all, I'd prefer it if you left," Dottore said, his amusement clear as day in his voice. He didn't even try to hide it as he gave you a punishing thrust, the resounding slap mixing in with your moan as it echoed off the walls. "I'm busy."

A laugh came from behind the door. "Very well. I'll leave you to it."

Dottore refused to wait for him to leave when he started again, this time fucking you so hard you were convinced there'd be a bruise. His fingers dug into your skin, yanking you back in time with his thrusts.

Your legs shook and you bit your lip until you bled, but it hardly did a thing to silence you.

"Look at you," Dottore mused, reaching around to hold your aching cock in his hand. He gave it a squeeze before jerking off the top half, focusing on the tip. "You were never meant to be a spy. You'd be so much better off as my little pet, wouldn't you agree?"

You let out a loud moan, instinctively looking down. You didn't even realize you were so hard, but as you watched the head of your cock drool precum onto the ground, everything felt twice as intense.

"N—No!" You choked out, clawing desperately at the creaking door. "I'll never—I'll never be your pet!"

"No?" Dottore laughed, sounding so unbothered it sent a spike of fear through you, reminding you of just how fucked you were. Swiftly, he swiped his fingers over the tip of your cock before bringing his hand up to push them into your mouth, making you taste your precum. With the palm of his hand, he pressed it against your chin to force your head back.

You let out a groan, feeling the strain on your upper back and neck as you stared at him with fear and disgust.

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice," he reminded, pulling out the communicator with his other hand. He slightly shook it, taunting you. "Don't you remember that actions have consequences?"

He pocketed the device as he slid his hand away from your mouth to bring it to the back of your neck, holding it tightly as he harshly pressed you against the cold wood. The side of your face ached, but, much to your horror, the pain only went straight to your cock.

"So just stand there and enjoy it," he said with a groan, his dick pulsing rhythmically as he savored the sensation of your walls clamping tightly around him. "Don't fight how much you like this."

"I don-" Just then, he rammed his cock into your prostate over and over, reducing you into a babbling mess that only proved his point.

Your eyes burned with unshed tears, ashamed that you loved the feeling of him so deep inside you, but you hated that it was him fucking you. You could feel the heat in your stomach intensify with each harsh thrust, feel the way your balls tightened in a way you knew you couldn't stop.

"Please..." you whimpered, weak against the wet slapping sounds that filled the office. "I don't want to...!"

You came with a whorish moan, arching your back as your cock spilled cum onto the floor. You could hear the sound of Dottore's laugh through the haze of your orgasm as sparks coursed through your veins, knees nearly buckling.

"Yes you do," he groaned, voice slightly strained. You could faintly hear his labored breathing the closer he got to his own orgasm, noticing the way his movements grew sloppier and weaker. He reached around again, jerking you off despite the lurking overstimulation.

You tightened, sending him right over the edge as he slammed his cock inside you a final time, pressing himself flush against your ass as he came. It was uncomfortably warm as he throbbed in time with each spurt, savoring the way you practically tried to milk him dry.

But he didn't let it last long as he pulled out with a satisfied sigh, enjoying the sight of you, shaky and vulnerable, before him. He graciously gave you a moment before commanding you to fix yourself, stepping back to adjust his own appearance.

"Now," he said, sternly, like he didn't just fuck you within a damn inch of your life. "Why don't you send a message to your organization stating that you're not going back."

He handed you the communicator with a smug smirk, relishing in your distress. Taking in a deep breath to steel your nerves, you accepted the device, reluctantly typing in a message before returning it back to him with regret written on your face.

"Oh, don't look so upset," he pouted, pocketing the device. You weren't sure when you'd see it again. "It'll be easier for you if you cooperate."

He made his way past you, opening the door, sending shivers down your spine at the sudden chill. "But right now, you have a lot of work to do."

cross-posted on ao3

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anisespice · 2 years ago

Text

“ hate your boyfriend ” || tokyo rev. pt. 2

one

synopsis: " you can pick me or your little boy. "

pairing: college!toman x gn!reader

warnings: mature language, sexual themes, MDI. toxic!toman, cheater!reader (pumpkin eater!!), enabling behavior, mild violence, vague descriptions of sex (cause i’m lazy), vulgar language, corny marvel joke, dirty-talk, moral compass is a roulette wheel in this one lol and i think that’s it :P

notes: did a little continuation of the first one before doing more characters lol i’m happy you guys liked the concept, lemme know who you’d like to see next :))) i don’t hate this one, but i don’t love it either (except maybe mikey’s) buuuut hope yall enjoy! <333

tagged: @fantasycantasy , @spacegirl05

A week had passed since the whole kick-back fiasco, and MIKEY had gone awol. Aki was over the moon about it, for obvious reasons; as far as he was concerned, he scared him off. Besides, the less you hung around the delinquent, the better for both of you.

“That guy’s just a nuisance, babe. Good riddance.”

Little did he know, this was a regular occurrence. Mikey always did this—Disappeared for days on end, only to pop right back up like he never left. Whether it be due to gang related issues, or because he felt like it, this frustrating habit was one of the reasons you invited him that night, despite knowing he’d pick a fight with Aki. You had missed him…in more ways than one. You knew it was only a matter of time before he came back to you.

And in the wee hours of the night, not far after said boyfriend left your place, you received a lone message from the former blonde himself.

from : bad influence ♡ 11:03pm “ omw. ”

Short, but effective. His timing was impeccable, how he always managed to text the second you were alone was beyond you, but it made your heart race all the same. It was wrong, you knew that, Aki deserved better than someone who snuck around. You didn’t mean for it to get this far, but that was a guilt you’d deal with later. Mikey was your drug of choice, and tonight you craved another fix.

to : bad influence ♡ 11:07pm “ okay. but just for a little while. ”

Even if you tried to play coy, to salvage whatever weak moral you had left, it didn’t matter—The only one you were fooling tonight was Aki.

from : bad influence ♡ 11:08pm “ mhm. sure, angel. ”

It was a wonder how you didn’t draw blood with how harshly you clawed at his shoulders, fighting between wanting him closer or wanting to push him away. Mikey didn’t mind, though. On the contrary, he encouraged you to leave marks. As tempted as he was to leave his own, he figured beating up your insides would suffice.

Knowing you’ll struggle to walk tomorrow was all the reward he needed.

“God—fuuck,” he slurred, after a particularly hard thrust made you arch off the bed, forcing him to sink deeper. He gazed down at you with an all too pleased grin as you begged him for more. How could he deny you when you sounded so desperate? “Taking me so well, angel…always so good f’me…”

“J-Jiro..! Ahplease!” You sobbed, your knees practically knocking upside your temples as he increased momentum. Mikey snickered, angling his hips to continue ramming the spot that made your eyes cross, moans reaching octaves you didn’t even know you could hit.

“Mm, been feening for this dick, huh? Yeah? Maybe we should call up that smug bastard, let ‘em see how such good friends we are, right [______]? Bet he was real proud thinkin’ he got me to fuck off…but we both know who you really belong to. Don’t we?”

He wasn’t sorry. That’s the short end of it.

The moment Takeru decided to act all big and bad, breaking stuff in a place where he paid no bills, it was in DRAKEN’s right to set him straight; mama may not have raised him, but he still ain’t no bitch.

It took some coaxing on your end, but you were able to reel Draken back from turning your boyfriend inside out. But, after he forced him to pick up every broken piece of the lamp, he told Takeru to choose a number between one and ten.

“…Why?” Was his response. Draken raised a brow.

“That’s how many shards I’m gonna shove up your nose.”

“Ken!”

The look on the shorter male’s face was worth it, earning a threatening smirk from the mechanic as he slapped a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Ahh, y’look like you were about to shit yourself, man! Nah, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

For a moment, there’s relief in your boyfriend’s eyes. It was short-lived, of course. Especially once Draken’s grip tightened around his shoulder. “But I will. Don’t ever let me catch you pop off on [_____] like that again. Would hate for you to have to pick yourself up off the floor next time. You feel me?”

With a gulp, he gave a shaky nod; now he really looked like he shat himself. “Y-Yes…”

“Hah? Yes, what?”

“Y-Yes, Draken, sir?”

He rewarded the poor sucker’s obedience with a couple taps to the cheek just to spite him before sending him on his way. It was met with little protest, Takeru scurrying out of the room with lamp pieces still in his palms, not even sparing you a passing glance.

“Text you later?” You called at his retreating form. When all you got was the sound of your front door slamming shut in response, you swiftly turned on your heel to aim a dejected frown at your other houseguest. Draken sardonically pouted back at you, reaching over to pinch your cheek until you swatted his hand away. “Why’d you do that, you totally freaked him out!”

He wasn’t sorry. Draken shrugged. “Good.”

Merely rolling your eyes, you headed for the small broom and dustpan in your closet to gather what little pieces Takeru left behind–Might as well busy yourself to delay addressing the elephant still in the room. Unfortunately, said elephant wasn’t about to let that happen. Before you could even think of sweeping anything, Draken gently grabbed your elbow, those same eyes that stared death into your boyfriend’s soul now filled with something else as they appraised you, melting through whatever cold exterior you tried to aim at him.

He leaned down closer, sporting a slanted grin that sent signals straight down to your core. Sometimes, you despised how easily he made your insides flutter by just existing.

“How much longer y’gonna entertain that fucking loser, huh? He wouldn’t know the first thing about handling someone like you.”

You hummed, fighting the giddy tremble in your body at the challenging air that surrounded you both. With the inkling of boldness you had, you took the bait. “What, like you would?”

He wasn’t sorry; you’d be though.

The way Draken split you in half would make Lucifer himself bite the pillow. Hovering over his gigantic frame, chest bare with your hands perched on each pec, he manhandled you to take every unforgiving inch of his dick, having you feeling downright discombobulated as your hips struggled to keep momentum.

Forget about seeing stars, at some point, you were certain you saw into the quantum realm; say hi to Ant-Man for me.

“K-Kenny...I can’t...t’s too much!”

He cooed up at you, though there wasn’t an ounce of sympathy in his tone. If anything, Draken enjoyed himself thoroughly, tongue-in-cheek as he watched you fall apart in his lap, just like he knew you would. With the way you tightened up around him like a vice, as if your own body was against the thought of him stopping, the former blonde chuckled breathlessly.

“Use the safe word then, doll.”

You glared down at him, to the best of your ability. With him practically jabbing you in the lung, it was more than difficult to say the rebuttal as smartly as you wanted to. “Y-you think…you’re so-oh! So f-funny…”

He did. Absolutely he did. By making your boyfriend’s name the safe word, nothing would soften his dick quicker. Plus, he knew you didn’t need it; just like you didn’t need Takeru.

“What? It’d be the only way you’d ever scream it anyways.”

“Welcome back.”

You paused mid-step upon entering your apartment, not expecting the ravenette to still be there. With a deep exhale, you paid him no mind as you kicked off your shoes, irritated after a tiresome process of checking your boyfriend into the hospital.

To say BAJI did a number on him would be an understatement…Man’s fucked him up. Sure, maybe Makoto could’ve watched his tone when talking to someone with such a short fuse, but Baji could’ve at least exercised a little restraint.

…Oh, who were you kidding? It’s Baji.

“What, ya not talkin’ to me?” Barely sparing him a glance, you set your bag on the coffee table before heading for the bedroom for a much-needed shower. Baji didn’t take kindly to being ignored. He huffed, standing to meet you halfway as he trailed behind you. Even when you attempted to close the door in his face, he shouldered his way in anyway; it was gonna take more than that to deter him.

“Quit being mad…said I was sorry, damn.”

“No you didn’t,” you replied, incredulously. You really tried it with the silent treatment, but knowing him, it was only a matter of seconds before he'd get you talking again. Taking off the sweats you threw on in haste earlier, you continued. “You said, and I quote, ‘Talk shit, get hit,’ then fell asleep on the couch while I had to haul Makoto to the emergency room!”

Baji shuffled his feet, “…Well, I meant to say it. Jus' forgot.”

You scoffed, walking into your bathroom. "What are you even still doing here? Don't you have someone else's day to shit on?”

“Y’kicking me out now?” He teased, raising a brow. What he didn't expect was for you to start throwing your toiletries at him. Although his reflexes saved him for the most part, Baji still got hit a few times as he attempted to dodge between a shampoo bottle and mouthwash. "Whoa! Hey-!"

“Maybe I should! Do you have any idea how hard it was to get him in and out of my car with all that dead weight, let alone into the building? Not to mention, his emergency contacts were his uppity-ass parents, so after they chewed me out, I had to lie and say he saved me from getting mugged.”

“...They buy it?”

You tilted your head, exasperated. "Wow. And here I thought the next thing out of your mouth would be that apology you 'forgot' to say earlier…[Sigh] Whatever. You just better hope when Makoto wakes up he doesn't remember anything, or else we're both in deep shit."

“Tsk. The fuck’s he gonna do?”

“He could literally sue us.” You deadpanned.

“He’s a pussy, he wouldn’t be stupid enough to try me again. And if he gives you any shit for it, you let me know. I’ll take care of it.”

“Oh, you mean like how you did today? Pass.”

He groaned, “I said sorry!”

“No you didn’t! And still haven’t!”

At the moment, it felt like the conversation would just continue in circles. With Baji stubbornly claiming he was in the right, and you combating his warped logic with colorful language and more stuff thrown at him, it's a wonder how things ended up here–With your face pressed against the cold shower wall as he gave you his fucking apology.

Over, and over, and over again.

While one hand wrapped around the column of your throat, fingers shoved knuckle-deep into your mouth to pacify the excessive whines tumbling out, the other made use of gripping the meat of your thigh, giving you no chance of running from the punishing thwap of his hips ramming against your wet ass-cheeks. The water cascading over your bodies had long turned cold as Baji chased after orgasm number five, his muscles ached from the strain, but he'd be damned to stop until he was certain all was forgiven.

Even if it meant missing every single one of Makoto's phone calls.

“God, I am so, so sorry, Takashi. Can’t believe he just…I-I’ve never seen him act like that before. Does it hurt?”

MITSUYA, despite the sting in his split lip, gave you an easy grin. “Nah, y’know I’ve been through worse. Fucker hits like one of my younger sisters.”

You had brought him back to your place to ice the bruise forming on his jaw, still frazzled over what occurred in the last half hour. Back at the restaurant, everything seemed fine when you excused yourself to the bathroom, having a blast knowing that your two favorite people were actually getting along. Unbeknownst to you, there was a storm brewing in Hajime. And the second you were out of sight, he used this opportunity to set a record straight with Mitsuya.

Evidently, he allowed his fists to do the talking.

You groaned, rubbing down your face in distress. “We’ll probably never get to set foot in that restaurant again...’m so embarrassed.”

“Hey,” he softly reprimanded, “Don’t sweat it, t’s not your fault-”

“I’m the one who begged you to let him come with us in the first place. I mean, I know you two butt heads from time to time, but I didn’t think it’d ever turn that serious. Please, Taka, just tell me what happened.”

Mitsuya shook his head, about to lower the ice pack until you shot him a pointed look. With a small exhale through his nose, he kept it on his jaw while he spoke. “I told you, he was probably pissed he couldn’t get a free meal outta me-”

“Don’t bullshit me, Haji wouldn’t explode like that over a fucking chicken sandwich.” You huffed, frustrated at his evasive behavior. He was holding back information on purpose, you were certain. Ever since the fitting, he'd been acting weird all evening. And that fight only solidified your suspicions. “Just tell me what started it!”

"Doesn’t matter."

"Taka-"

"Let it go, [______]." He laid back on your couch and made himself comfortable, even so much as turning on your tv to fill over the dead conversation. Mitsuya trained his eyes on the lit-up screen, still icing his jaw as he subtly avoided eye contact.

You could just scream.

Childishly, you snatched the remote from his hand and switched it back off. The lavender haired threw his head back in defeat, the hand holding the ice pack slowly coming down as Mitsuya eyed you from his peripheral; so stubborn.

“Be honest. It was about me again, wasn’t it?” His silence spoke volumes. “So it was then. Ugh, okay listen, I get that you’re both really protective of me, I do, but that doesn’t excuse-”

“I’m in love with you.”

You choked. Though, only on your words.

With that now hanging up in the air, you gaped like a damn goldfish, the remote slipping out your grasp and clambering to the floor with a clack. Mitsuya exhaled; no turning back now. “You…huh?”

“Yep. Have been for a while, actually.” He placed his arms behind the couch, wry smirk on his face. “Planned to tell you over dinner tonight, but that backfired fast, no thanks to that walking steroid you call a boyfriend.”

“Y-…You’re messing with me. Right?” The designer offered a humorless laugh, gesturing to his split lip and bruised jaw.

“Didn’t get hit for saying what a great pal you were, [______].”

Now it was your turn to be silent. A lump began to form in your throat, overwhelmed with the newfound information, borderline confession.

“So then…what did you say to Haji to make him so angry?”

For a split second, you saw a glint within his pools of amethyst as they slowly rendered to a deep violet. Staring at you from beneath his pretty lashes, Mitsuya resembled that of a starved animal on the verge of cornering its prey, causing a sudden warmth to envelop you as you squirmed under his heady gaze.

Sitting up a little, he merely beckoned you to his empty lap. You blinked widely at him, sputtering as you tried to protest the idea. But, what he said next played into your curiosity.

“C’mere, and I’ll show you.”

You blinked at him, uncertain; he made no move to rush you. If you were against the idea, you were more than welcome to decline and tell him to shove it. However, when you eventually crawled into the awaiting throne, settling all your weight on top of him to the point he couldn’t keep from groaning shamelessly, Mitsuya was fucking elated.

You gripped his shirt at the shoulders, sporting that signature pout you’d do whenever you wanted something from him—The designer was more than ready to give it to you. All you had to do was say so.

“Hajime’s gonna kill you if he finds out, though. Don’t want you getting hurt again because of me…”

Mitsuya chuckled, hands slowly rubbing up your thighs until they settled on your hips. “Don’t worry about it, sweet thing. He may have gotten two hits on me today, but all I need is one tomorrow.”

#🍁wasabi #COME GET YOUR FOOD #tokyorev #tokyo revengers #tokyorev smut #tr smut #tokyorev scenarios #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #mikey #baji #mitsuya #draken

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moonlit-imagines · 4 days ago

Text

Headcanons for being Miles Morales’ sibling (Earth-42)

Earth-42!Miles Morales x sibling!reader

warnings:

a/n:

prompt: anonymous: “Miles42 as y/n’s older brother???”

miles and you were pretty close growing up

you two did everything together

art was your passion and you guys used to love pretending tp be critics

“this needs more color” -you, age 6

“you have no idea what you’re talking about!” -miles, also age 6ish

you’d trade pictures and “help” each other, which really helped you guys find your styles

and all was well and good for a long time. you guys had love from your parents and your uncle and they guided you well through life

uncle aaron helped you guys grow your creativity

your mom taught you compassion and empathy

your dad taught you responsibility and bravery

and after some time, miles and aaron started getting closer, more secretive

“are you hiding something from me?” -you

“no.” -miles

“yes you are”

“no im not”

“so then why am i not invited to aarons anymore? we aren’t making music or murals or whatever else, that’s weird. it’s abrupt”

“yeah, aaron’s busy”

“so then where are you going without me?”

“i can go out without you, y/n”

“you just aren’t yourself anymore”

and soon after that, your dad was killed in action and you weren’t acting yourself either

“hey, maybe its time we bring your sibling into this” -aaron

“trust me, they aren’t ready” -miles

for some time, miles had begun acting as the prowler, using his anger and grief of jefferson’s death to fuel his antics

“miles, y/n needs you. we pulled away, we have to help them” -aaron

“they should stay with mom, we have work to do” -miles

you guys began to shut each other out, you supported your mom since she lost her husband, and you two lived in blissful ignorance of what miles and aaron were working on

“hey kid, brought you some supplies” -aaron

“oh—well, uh, thanks unc” -you

“anytime” -aaron

“i’m glad miles is spending time with aaron, mijo/a. its good for him. for both of them” -rio

“just be nice if they ever spent time with me” -you

“give it time, love. everything will be alright” -rio

you grew more frustrated that miles shut you out and decided to take a look for yourself what they were doing without you

“what the hell?!” -you, walking into aarons apartment and seeing the prowler setup

“get out! no one told you to come here!” -miles

“miles, chill out. that’s your sibling. we wanted to tell you about this. we just wanted to wait until you were ready” -aaron

“ready? you two are sneaking around behind my back, doing god knows what? does mami know?!” -you

“don’t you dare tell her!” -miles

“miles, this is your chance to fix your problems with y/n. lower your voice, talk to them” -aaron

miles and you talked for hours over this, and you were heartbroken that he didn’t tell you sooner and thought he couldn’t

but you suspected he may not have wanted to because he wanted to try this alone

you really did want to be included though, it looked like an incredibly exciting gig

and who knows what kind of trouble you guys could get into together?

it was hard to keep it a secret from rio, but everyone was working out their grief in their own ways

and miles was still in one piece so far, so no harm done?

and one day you got a call from aaron to come to his place. immediately

so imagine your surprise when you saw miles strung up to the punching bag

“what are you doing?! let him down! why did you take out his braids?!” -you

“we didn’t” -miles

you looked SO confused

“who the hell is this?” -you

“that’s what we’re trying to figure out” -aaron

“hey..im miles…” -miles, from another universe

taglist: @summersimmerus // @milkiane // @wild-rose-35 // @nekoannie-chan // @deanzboyfriend // @mr-mxyzptlk-1940 //

#miles morales #miles morales x reader #morales!reader #miles morales imagine #across the spiderverse #spiderverse imagine #spiderverse x reader #into the spider verse #itsv imagine #itsv x reader #atsv imagine #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #spiderman x reader #earth 42!miles morales

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majeoeje · 1 year ago

Text

Not a second with you is ever a waste

Teru Minamoto x reader

I would gladly face any conseqences just to have your lips on mine a little longer

"I would say you're that you’re not much better seeing your eyebags right now"

He pointed, ironically being the one laying in the school's infirmary

"Ugh,look at yours!"

You shoved him your pocket mirror close enough so that he can take a good look at his face, it took him a few seconds to realize what you meant.

Staying up late was akin to the one and only Teru Minamoto, being a trained exorcist and all. But these past few weeks had been swarming him with task of bothersome spirits, you wondered how he hasn't collapsed yet.

Well...

Until he did

You saw how he slumped while holding documents for the student council, immedietly helping him, thinking nothing of it. Though, too occupied with your few exchange jokes you didn't notice how unstable the steps that he continued to take before you heard a loud thud alongside with papers and documents scattered to the floor

●●●

"You were heavy."

You rolled your eye at him. Teru know you could never be mad at him though in that moment he really can't help but look away, defeated filled with guilt.

"Sorry.. i didn't mean to burden you like that" at first it would sound like an excessive apology for such a simple thing that you were clearly just joking about, but you knew what he meant as he stared intently at your eyebags that mirrors his.

“Don’t mention it.” You said

As you layed your upper body on thighs, avoiding his gaze, perhaps a part of you was embarassed. If it weren’t for his condition right now, he would be elated.

"You've been a great help to me these past months, i shouldn't had dropped my assignment last minute to you like that" he confessed, playing with the strands of your hair.

The anxious Teru, the clingy Teru, the cold Teru, the touchy Teru. You were always surprised with every layer of personality that he shows you, a side that would made you grew jealous if he were to show to anybody else. Yet you can't help to miss every part of him when you are seperated

And to think that you once thought of him as one dimensional.

"I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you, and i'll make sure it won't happen again"

Oh he was really serious now? You couldn't help but smile, a mischevious grin laces your lips. How could you turn down such an offer?

"Oh really?" he knows you're messing with him but hey, is it really a bad thing wanting to see you happy even for the sake of his inconvinience

"Yes!" He said eagerly holding your hand

"How about...." you started to think about how could you possibly use this opportunity to the fullest. "You cover me whenever i skip school this whole month? Yeah that sounds good"

The fact that you're asking the student council president for this is crazy really, the horors he would face if people were to find out surely wasn’t something he’s looking forward to

"That's a bit.." he stopped, a facade of his princely attitude seems to glimmer through before he shook his head

He sighed away his discomfort and looked you in the eyes “alright, but just know i’m not joining you anytime soon”

You giggled, an awfully lovely sound that could shift Teru’s moral compass anytime. Sometimes it feels like he’d do anything for the sound of it.

"I was just joking teru" you weren't. " but need i remind you that you did skipped class once you knoww..." you poked his cheek playfully

He was reminded to a fateful day before summer break where he gave into his impulsive thoughts and decided to follow a dumbass to their shenanigans up the rooftop.

"H-hey- i thought we agreed to not bring up that ever again" he grab a hold of your wrist pulling you ever so closely, he couldn't contain his reddening cheeks as he smiled remembering that day.

"The school prince skipped school to make out with someone!?? Gahhh! Such scandal!" Such a scandal it would make indeed if people were to find out his secret heated make out session.

News flash : It was you

"Like you weren’t the one practically BEGGING for me to kiss you” he said, eyeing your lips with a glare that could sent blood rushing to your face anytime of the day

“I don’t recall such blasphemous memories, princess" you crossed your hands, failing to look to away to hide the growing smile on your lips

"You wanna kiss me so bad it’s messing with your head"

"Your majesty, your lowly servant greatly thinks it's the other way around"

you grinned seeing how he eyed your lips with no shame whatsoever this time.

"Hmm..." he seems to think for a second "maybe" before you felt him inching closer, wasting no time.

All you could feel was a pair of lips on your own, a pair of rough hands cupping your face, messing with your hair. The cheap white sheets of the infirmary ruffled to a mess and the smell of sanitizer became amiss as you kissed him back tasting a faint sweet vanilla on his lips.

"Hm.. you used the lip balm i got for you? How sweet" you squished his cheeks with your thumb and index finger making him duck his lips slightly, eyeing the glistened on his lips that you failed to notice until it collided to yours.

"Me or the lip balm?"

He chuckled, he smiled. a smile that never fails to make you grow weak in the knees as he stayed there not shying away from your touch

"Good question...maybe i need to check one more time"

Real smooth

You kissed him first this time, your hands dangled from his shoulder, pulling him close. You could feel how his lips curled into a smile when you did so.

During moments like this you wondered how the heartthrob of kamome gakuen that acted so heartlessly(ironically) to you when you first met came to be this way in your arms.

Moments passed as if it were mere when seconds kissing you. He was greedy. Everytime you gasped and breathed for air he wished to kiss you twice as long.

The disappointment in his eyes was evident when you finally pulled away

Though he stopped as the thoughts that swirled his head from moments before seem to not linger back.

"Is it really alright though...you know...the homework?" he rest his forehead on yours lazily

"Darling, you did mine that one time too remember? I'm just repaying your kindness" you sighed, you don’t understand how he could become so self conscious in every favor you offered.

"But it's different.." he said, disappointedly

"You know you shouldn't feel this way… You mean a lot to me. I hope there comes a day where you can realize that you can fully rely on me without feeling guilty"

The pause that linger in the air seem to grow heavy in each moment, a moment that made you realize how fragile he was.

"I..."

He doesn't know how to respond to that, at least...not yet

"How about you take me on a date to make it up for me"

Hearing that he perked up, giving a gentle smile, a smile one like when you first met him. It covered a lot of secrets

They say human's greatest fear are of the unknown. This smile represent just that. The swirling feeling of uneasiness knowing he has secrets he need to hide from you. yet it continues to enchant you nonetheless

"I'll pick you up at 6"

"Sounds good to me"

(Idk what has gotten into me but my teru phase is coming back fr. Also just short fluff, everyday scenarios🫡🫡)

#gender neutral reader #teru minamoto x reader #tbhk #minamoto teru x reader #teru minamoto #minamoto teru #toilet bound hanako kun #jibaku shounen hanako kun #fluff #teru x reader

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mercillery · 3 months ago

Text

DAD KUZAN? DAD KUZAN.

WARNINGS: GENDER NOT SPECIFIED + NOT PROOFREAD + HEADCANONS + OOC? WHO KNOWS…

NOTES: I wrote this because I think Kuzan would be an amazing father figure…or maybe it’s just me, I don’t know.

If I’m being completely honest here, I really can’t picture him being someone’s biological father either, to be honest. It’s not like the guy doesn’t have the capacity to care—he’s got that hidden soft side—but the image of him actually settling down and having kids of his own? Yeah, no. This is the same man who would rather nap under a tree with his bike leaning nearby than deal with any sort of responsibility beyond his own whimsy.

However, father figure? Now that I can see. I can easily imagine some random kid just latching onto him, following him around after seeing him do something cool (like freezing an entire sea, y’know, normal stuff), and deciding, “Yep, you’re my dad now.” Maybe they start pestering him, asking questions while Kuzan, in his typical fashion, is just casually napping or lazily giving half-hearted responses between long stretches of silence. He’s probably half asleep half the time, not even realizing he’s gained a tiny shadow until weeks later.

He’d probably just go along with it. He’s not one to fuss or overthink things. One day he’d wake up from his nap, find this kid sitting right next to him, and be like, “Arara. Still here, huh?” before shrugging it off. He wouldn’t necessarily raise the kid in any traditional sense—there’s no way he’s waking up early for breakfast or doing school drop-offs. But he’d have a way of teaching them things, unintentionally at times, through his actions. You’d learn a lot from just being around him, whether it’s his strong moral compass or his ability to take life at his own pace, despite all the chaos.

So whether you’re his biological kid or just some random child who decided to stick to him like glue, I can definitely see Kuzan filling that fatherly role, albeit in the most Kuzan way possible: relaxed, a tiny bit distant, but undeniably cool.

First things first, as Kuzan's child, there's no question—he absolutely keeps you as far away from Blackbeard and his crew as possible. Listen, Kuzan may have a reputation for being lazy, but when it comes to your safety? There's not a shred of laziness in him. The man might be laid-back, but he’s sharp, and there’s no way he’s going to let you get tangled up with that bunch of pirates.

For starters, he knows exactly what they're capable of. He’s not naive; he knows Blackbeard and the crew would have no problem using you against him, trying to manipulate the situation, or worse, straight-up threatening you just for the fun of it. He knows that they aren’t exactly a “family-friendly” crowd. And let’s be real—he also knows that being around them would be a terrifying for any child. Their idea of a normal Tuesday is probably your worst nightmare.

So even though he's technically rolling with the Blackbeard Pirates now, when it comes to you, Kuzan’s got this invisible barrier setup. It’s like he’s saying, "Yeah, I’m with them, but you’re not." He’s always one step ahead, working from a distance to make sure they stay away from you. And if, by some unfortunate stroke of fate, you or one of the Blackbeard pirates get too close to each other, Kuzan's immediately on alert. He’s already brainstorming a dozen ways to steer the situation without anyone noticing.

The bottom line? He absolutely does not want you affiliated with the Blackbeard Pirates in any way, shape, or form.

If you’re an ice lover and chewer, then congratulations—you’ve hit the jackpot. Kuzan is basically a walking, talking, 10-foot-tall popsicle. Need ice? No problem; Kuzan’s got you covered. With him around, you’ll never run out of the frosty goodness you crave. Want some ice to chew on? He’s more than happy to snap his fingers and conjure some up for you. But—and this is a big but—there’s a catch.

Because, as much as Kuzan loves to spoil you (in his own laid-back kind of way???), he’s not about to let you go to town on some gigantic ice chunks. You’re just a kid, after all, and he knows your teeth are still those little baby ones. He’s not about to let you chip a tooth on his ice or, heaven forbid, choke on a massive chunk. So instead of giving you the satisfying, crunchy ice pieces you’ve been dreaming of, he hands you the tiniest, thinnest shards of ice you’ve ever seen—basically, ice confetti.

And, of course, you’re disappointed. You wanted the good stuff, the crunchy stuff, but nope—Kuzan isn’t having it. He’s too chill to be strict about most things, but when it comes to your safety, even the king of "I don't really care" has his limits. And broken baby teeth, or you choking on a huge piece of ice? That’s no-go for him.

So no matter how much you whine, complain, or throw a fit about it, he’s only giving you these sad, little wafer-thin pieces of ice. You could scream at the top of your lungs, stomp your feet, or even give him the full-on puppy eyes—and he still wouldn't. I wouldn’t give you those big chunky pieces of ice you wanted.

He’s way too chill to be swayed by your tantrums, and when it comes to ice, safety comes first. So while you might dream of munching on a big, satisfying ice cube, all you’re getting are the Kuzan-approved baby-safe ice slivers.

If you’re cold, Kuzan’s solution is simple: he’ll casually hand over his blue bandana and his dark green trench coat—both of which are comically too large for you. Honestly, you could disappear into them like a turtle retreating into its shell. The bandana? Yeah, it doesn’t just cover your head; it swallows it whole. You’d be lucky if anyone could even find your face under all that fabric. And the trench coat? Well that thing might as well be a sleeping bag. It drapes over your entire body like a blanket, probably dragging on the ground as you shuffle around, but hey, it keeps you warm, right?

Kuzan wouldn’t be lying if he said he finds the sight quite amusing. Every time he hands over his bandana, he watches as it completely engulfs your head, covering your eyes, nose, and most of your mouth. You’d look like a tiny version of him, minus the ice powers and the towering height. And the trench coat? Forget it. You’re practically swimming in it, the sleeves flopping past your hands, making it impossible to move without tripping over the hem. You’re like a walking coat with legs peeking out.

He probably gives a lazy chuckle every time he sees you bundled up like that. “You alright in there?” he might tease, though you know he’s secretly enjoying how ridiculous and adorable you look buried under his oversized clothing. This is his way of keeping you warm, even if it looks like you’ve raided his entire wardrobe.

And if you decide you want to keep his bandana or trench coat? Well, he doesn’t mind in the slightest. In fact, he’ll let you hang onto them for as long as you want. You could wear that bandana like it’s your new identity and drape that trench coat over yourself like a cape, and he wouldn’t even ask for them back. At this point, it’s almost like you’re robbing him of his iconic look. He’s probably already decided you look better in them anyway they don’t cause they’re too big on you, but he finds it cute, so go ahead and keep it all.

I’m not even exaggerating when I say you could probably fit entirely in that knapsack Kuzan lugs around everywhere. Whether you’re too small or his knapsack is just too big is a mystery we may never solve. But seriously, if you ever got tired, cold, or just couldn’t be bothered to walk anymore, there’s a good chance he’d plop you right inside without a second thought. It’s roomy enough, and let’s be honest—it’d probably be more comfortable than trying to match the stride of Kuzan’s long legs.

Because let’s face it: mini-you trying to keep up with Kuzan’s ridiculous height is a losing battle. His casual, lazy pace is like a light jog for you, and after about five minutes, you’re probably huffing and puffing while he hasn’t even broken a sweat. So what’s the solution? The knapsack, of course. He could carry you around in that thing as easily as he would his eternal stockpile of snacks (because we all know Kuzan’s gotta have those, but you eat them all anyway while you’re in there).

In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he alternated between carrying you in his knapsack and in his arms just to keep things balanced. One day you’re nestled in his arms like a baby penguin, and the next, you’re bouncing around in the bottom of his knapsack like a little stowaway. You might peek out of the top every now and then, catching glimpses of the world while he continues strolling along, totally unbothered.

It’s not that Kuzan’s trying to baby you, but he’s practical. There’s no way he expects you to keep up with his towering form, and let’s be real—it’s much easier for both of you if he just hauls you around like a piece of luggage. Plus, it’s not like he’d mind. You being small enough to fit in his knapsack is likely just a bonus in his book. He’ll act like it’s no big deal, but you know there’s a little part of him that finds the whole situation amusing.

Basically, he’s got you covered, whether you’re in his arms or stashed away in that bottomless knapsack. Either way, you’re getting from point A to point B without having to wear yourself out trying to keep up with those long legs of his.

He definitely annoys you a lot by constantly pinching your cheeks. Seriously, he just can’t help himself. Your face is like some kind of magnet for his fingers. The second he sees those squishy, soft cheeks of yours, it’s game over. He’s gotta pinch them at least once a day, or he might just lose his cool—or, y’know, whatever counts as “losing it” for someone as chill as Kuzan.

It’s not like he does it to be mean; in fact, it’s the complete opposite. Your face is just so ridiculously squishable that even the usually laid-back, low-effort Kuzan can’t resist. He’ll walk by, casually ruffle your hair, and then BAM!—before you know it, his fingers are pinching your cheeks. And of course, it’s never just a gentle pinch, either. No, he’s gotta give them a good squeeze, just to hear that little noise of protest you make. It’s part of his daily routine now, like drinking coffee or something.

And yes, Kuzan definitely thinks you’re the epitome of adorableness. Your squishy cheeks are just the physical manifestation of that. Sure, he acts too cool to make a fuss about it, but if anyone else tried to pinch your cheeks, you bet he’d have something to say about it. Those cheeks are his to squish, and even though he’ll play it off like it’s no big deal, it’s his way of showing that he cares.

So whether you roll your eyes, push his hand away, or try to hide your face, it doesn’t matter. Kuzan’s still going to get his daily cheek-pinching fix, and you’re just going to have to deal with it. Sorry!—but when you’re that adorable, even someone as composed as Kuzan can’t resist giving those cheeks a little squeeze.

His hair is definitely something interesting for you—curly, and cut to chin length, with the tips fanning out in a way that practically begs you to mess with it. And honestly, as a kid, you just can’t resist. It’s like his curls are calling out to you, practically daring you to poof them up, so of course, you do. Every chance you get, you’re right there, fluffing up his hair like it’s some kind of art project. It’s basically your own way of revenge, especially after all that pinching and squishing he’s done to your chubby cheeks.

And it’s not like Kuzan really stops you. Nah, he’s way too lax for that. You could spend a solid ten minutes working on poofing up his curls, making them all bouncy and frizzy, and he wouldn’t say a word. He might even take a nap while you go crazy with his hair. You’d get it all puffed up, looking like some kind of fluffy masterpiece, only for him to casually shake his head afterward and completely ruin it.

Every. Single. Time.

You’d stand there, arms crossed, absolutely deflated as he runs his hand through his hair, casually smoothing it back to its normal look. All your hard work is gone in an instant. It’s like he doesn’t even realize the effort you’ve put into making his hair a giant, fluffy cloud. “Nice try, kid,” he’d say, maybe throwing in a lazy smirk as if he’s not fully aware of your disappointment.

It’s almost like a game at this point. You mess up his hair, poof it up as big as possible, and he calmly restores it to its usual state. Rinse and repeat. Sometimes he’ll even shake his head extra hard, like he’s trying to prove a point, his curls falling right back into place as if mocking you.

But here’s the thing—he doesn’t really mind. He’ll never say it outright, but there’s something about the way he lets you mess with his hair that shows he’s cool with it. You could poof it up every day, and he’d sit there with his usual lazy expression, letting you do your thing. It’s probably more entertaining to him than anything else. Plus, it’s not like he has much to do while he’s lounging around, so why not let you have your fun?

At the end of the day, though, you know what’s coming. No matter how much effort you put into puffing up those curls, Kuzan’s going to smooth them right back down, leaving you with a mix of pride in your work and the frustration of seeing it undone in seconds. But hey, he doesn’t stop you from trying, and that’s probably his way of saying, “Go ahead, kid. Keep at it. I’ve got time.”

Kuzan and cooking are like oil and water. The man is horrible in the kitchen; no question about it. It’s like his natural talents just stop cold (pun intended) when it comes to making food. You get hungry? Well, buckle up, because he’s about to embark on a culinary disaster.

But hey, to his credit, he tries. He’s a lazy guy, sure, but he’s not so lazy that he’ll just leave you starving. The problem is that his cooking skills are NONEXISTENT. You’re lucky if you don’t end up eating something that’s either charred beyond recognition or still weirdly undercooked, despite being in the pan for way too long. It’s like he manages to both overcook and undercook food at the same time, and you’re left wondering how that’s even possible.

He’ll stand there with his usual half-bored expression, poking at the food with a spatula, looking like he’s not entirely sure what’s happening. And when it comes time to serve it up? Yeah, you’re basically eating burnt stuff at this point. There’s no way around it. The irony of the fact that the man who can literally freeze the sea can’t stop burning food is not lost on you. You’d think with all that control over ice he’d at least be able to chill out on the stove, but nope. It’s crispy all the way.

And yet, he genuinely puts in the effort when you’re hungry. He might be lazy about most things, but when it comes to making sure you’ve got something to eat, he’s willing to give it a shot—even if that shot results in something resembling charcoal. “Here, kid,” he’d say, sliding a plate of vaguely food-shaped items toward you, “I think I nailed it this time.” Spoiler: He didn’t.

But don’t worry—his cooking will eventually start getting better. You’re still eating mostly burnt stuff, sure, but it’s less “oops, I made a rock” and more “oops, I made something that’s only slightly overdone.” You can still tell it’s food, at least. And honestly, at this point, you’ve developed a sort of tolerance for the burnt bits.

You’re still not exactly dining on gourmet meals, the food’s still a little crispy, and you’re not always sure what’s supposed to be edible—but it eventually becomes more tolerable, trust. He’s a new dad in the making, and cooking isn’t really his strong suit, but he’s slowly getting there. It’s progress, and as long as he keeps improving, there’s hope that one day you’ll be eating something that’s not 70% carbonized.

For now, though, you’ll just have to settle for a lot of burnt dinners and Kuzan’s deadpan “Enjoy” as he hands you a plate. But at least you know he’s got your back, even if that means the occasional charred meal.

If anyone even thinks about messing with you, they’re in for a serious awakening—because Kuzan doesn’t tolerate that kind of nonsense. There’s no way he’s going to just sit there and let someone mess with his kid. If it’s an adult causing trouble, that chill demeanor can quickly become intimidating. He’s not about to let some random person push you around—he’ll get serious real quick if he needs to.

Now, Kuzan’s not the type to jump straight to violence, but he’s more than ready if the situation calls for it—but only if absolutely necessary. He’s calm, yes, but make no mistake, he’s prepared to throw ice hands if the person causing trouble doesn’t back off. Of course, he knows you're a kid, and he doesn’t want you to see him go full-on badass mode in a fight, no matter how much you’d probably think his ice powers are “super duper cool.” He’d much rather keep you away from that kind of violence. If things are about to get messy, his first instinct is to tell you to look away, close your eyes, and cover your ears. He’s not about to let you witness something like that.

And if the other person just won’t back down, well, that’s when Kuzan’s icy side really comes out. The temperature seems to drop, and that stoic expression of his hardens as he steps up, ready to put the person in their place. He won’t hesitate to freeze someone’s feet to the ground or send an ice wall between them and you. Yeah, he’s basically downright intimidating and dangerous when he needs to be.

Now, if it’s another child bullying you, things are a bit different. Kuzan’s not about to go full Ice Age on a kid, obviously. But here’s the thing—most kids your age would probably take one look at this towering, six-foot-plus giant of a man and rethink their life choices. The second they see him strolling over, calm as ever, with that unbothered look in his eyes, they’re already backing off. I mean, who wouldn’t? Kuzan’s height alone is enough to make anyone think twice about picking on you. You’ve basically got scary dog privilege—except it’s not a dog; it’s your super duper cool dad.

But if the bully is feeling extra brave or just a little too dumb to realize what they’re up against, Kuzan has his own way of handling it. He’ll crouch down a little to their level, still towering over them, and in that low, calm voice, he’ll firmly tell them, “Hey, cut it out. Stop bothering my kid.” Just like that. There’s no need to raise his voice or get angry—just his presence and tone are enough to get the message across. It’s that parent-like authority that makes the bully shrink back, and just like that, the situation’s handled. No need for ice or fights—just a few well-placed words from Kuzan, and the problem is solved.

So whether it’s an adult or another kid trying to mess with you, Kuzan’s got your back. He can be as cold as ice when he needs to be, or just intimidating enough to send a bully running for the hills. Either way, you’re safe with him, and anyone who tries to test that? Well, they learn pretty quickly that messing with Kuzan’s kid is a terrible idea.

Kuzan is surprisingly chill when it comes to the usual trouble kids get into—like cursing or sneaking a piece of candy from the store. He’s not one to overreact, mainly because he gets it. Kids are learning, and part of growing up is figuring out what’s right and what’s wrong. He remembers being a kid once, running around and cashing some mischief himself. So he tends to take a more relaxed approach. But don’t let that fool you—he will call you out when you mess up.

For instance, if you dropped a curse word, he might raise an eyebrow, give you a glance, and calmly say something like, “You kiss your mama with that mouth?” It’s not a scolding, more of a gentle reminder that maybe you shouldn’t be swearing like a sailor. No need for long lectures—he’ll just make a little quip and leave you to think about it.

Now, when it comes to stealing, things are a bit different. Let’s say you swiped a candy bar from the store. The first time he catches you, Kuzan will probably let it slide with a casual, “C’mon, don’t make a habit out of that.” He’s not going to drag you back to the store right away, but he’ll definitely make it clear that you shouldn’t do it again.

But if you do pull a stunt like that again, well, that’s where things get interesting. Kuzan’s the type who believes in learning through experience, so you can bet he’ll march you right back to that store, have you return whatever it is you took, and make you apologize. And no, there’s no escaping it. He’s firm but still calm about it, and honestly, having to face the consequences like that is a bigger punishment than any time-out could ever be.

The real kicker, though, is what happens if you keep testing his patience. Kuzan may be lenient, but he’s not about to let you get off scot-free forever. If you’re being particularly stubborn or if you keep pulling the same tricks, he’ll start thinking of creative ways to teach you a lesson—ways that are a little more embarrassing for you. Maybe he’ll announce loudly in the store, in front of everyone, “Hey, my kid took something they shouldn’t have. Let’s go return it and say sorry, okay?” Cue your mortification.

The embarrassment is enough to make you never want to do it again. You’ll probably sulk and shoot him an angry look afterward, thinking that you hate him for humiliating you like that. But deep down, you know he’s just trying to steer you in the right direction.

Even if you’re mad at him in the moment, Kuzan’s not too bothered. He knows it’ll blow over. He’s doing it all because he cares, and even if his laid-back nature makes it seem like he’s not paying attention, he’s got your best interest at heart.

When winter rolls around, Kuzan’s definition of “keeping warm” becomes a bit… extreme. You’d think that being an ice man, he’d have a perfect understanding of cold temperatures and how to handle them, but ironically, he’s so accustomed to the cold that he has no clue what “too cold” feels like for a regular person—especially for a kid like you. To him, being cold is just another day in the life. So naturally, when it starts snowing, his protective instincts go into overdrive, and he wraps you up like a little walking bundle of fabric.

It starts off with one coat, then another, and another, and one more, and two more, and three more, and probably four more…and before you know it, you’re waddling out the door buried under layers of jackets, scarves, gloves, and sweaters—there’s probably a beanie or two shoved on your head for good measure. You’re practically swimming in oversized clothes, struggling to move your arms because they’re weighed down by puffy jackets. Honestly, you’d be warmer than a marshmallow roasting by a campfire at this point, but Kuzan just keeps piling on the layers. He just wants to make sure you don’t freeze.

"Uh... Dad?" You mumble, muffled by the scarf he wrapped around you about five times. “I’m kind of... sweating.” You’re not cold at all—actually, you’re overheating under all these clothes, which is kind of impressive considering you’re outside in a snowstorm.

Kuzan just looks down at you, eyebrow raised. “Really? It’s freezing out here. You sure?” He’s genuinely puzzled because to him, 20 degrees Fahrenheit feels like a tropical vacation.

You nod—or at least try to, but the scarf kind of restricts your movement. “Yeah... maybe we can take one jacket off?”

Kuzan hesitates. He doesn’t want you catching a cold or getting sick, but at the same time, he doesn’t want to completely disregard your comfort either. After all, if you say you’re warm, maybe you are. Still, he’s reluctant, giving you a look that says, “Are you sure you want to do that?” He’s probably thinking of all the ways you could end up freezing the moment you take off even one layer.

“Alright,” he finally relents, tugging one of the jackets off your overly bundled body. “But keep the scarf and the hat. You never know when it’ll get colder.”

Of course, even after peeling off one layer, you’re still swaddled in a ridiculous amount of winter gear. Kuzan doesn’t do anything halfway when it comes to keeping you safe and warm, so you're still looking like a walking ball of puff. At least now you can move your arms a bit more.

If you weren’t a napper before, well, you better get used to it because now that you’re hanging around Kuzan, naps are mandatory. The man is the epitome of relaxedness, and somehow, his sleepy energy has rubbed off on you. It’s like the moment he decides to take one of his classic mid-day naps, you feel your own eyelids getting heavy. You might not even be tired, but seeing Kuzan lazily sprawled out, snoring away somehow makes you want to nap too. It’s practically contagious.

And if you’re feeling particularly snuggly? No problem. Kuzan isn’t one to complain about extra warmth, even if it’s from your tiny little self. If you want to curl up next to him, he’ll wrap one of his long arms around you and pull you close. He’ll probably even shift a little to make sure you’re comfy, tucking you in like you’re the perfect-sized teddy bear. Because you are. Except you’re not really a teddy bear.

Now let’s say that one day, instead of lying next to him, you decide to sprawl right on top of him—because why not? He’s big, he’s cozy, and he’s basically a human-sized mattress. You could literally flop right across his chest, stomach, or even lie across his back, and Kuzan? He’s perfectly fine with it. The man doesn’t even flinch. He just adjusts slightly, like, “Oh, you’re using me as your bed now? Cool, go for it,” before drifting right back to sleep without a second thought.

So congrats, you’ve officially been drafted into the nap life. Whether you wanted to or not, you’re now a professional napper, all thanks to Kuzan.

Remember that old sleep mask Kuzan used to wear back when he was still a Marine? The one he’d casually pull down over his eyes while everyone else was busy stressing out? Well, I like to think that even though those days are long behind him, he still keeps that mask tucked away somewhere in his knapsack.

And let’s just say that one day, he just hands it to you. No big speech, no grand gesture—just a lazy “Here, you can have it.” Now, the thing is massive on you. I mean, the mask is practically half the size of your face, and it keeps sliding down over your nose or up into your hair. But hey, Kuzan doesn’t care. He finds it pretty amusing how it looks on you, especially when you try to wear it seriously, like you’re mimicking him in some way.

Whether you’re sleeping or just goofing around, that sleep mask has pretty much become your thing now. Sometimes you wear it just because you can, even though it’s comically oversized. Other times, you carry it around like a prized possession, tucking it into your own little bag like it’s something important. Maybe you don’t fully understand why he gave it to you, but that doesn’t matter—it’s yours now, and you wear it with pride.

Kuzan doesn’t mind, of course. If anything, he’s probably glad it’s getting more use now that it’s yours. Every time he sees you waddling around with it over your eyes, almost bumping into things, you can catch him smiling. He never says it, but you can tell he’s kind of proud that his old Marine memento has become your new signature look.

Yeah, overall, Kuzan’s a great dad. Super chill, unbothered, and a literal human ice pack when you need it. If you're in the market for a dad who can nap at any given moment, pinch your cheeks just because, and accidentally turn your lunch into charcoal, then come get your own Kuzan today! (now only 5 berries down, 5 berries a month—frostbite risk included for free!!!!!)

#kuzan one piece #kuzan #aokiji kuzan #kuzan x reader #one piece aokiji #aokiji #one piece kuzan #aokiji one piece #aokiji x reader #one piece x reader #PLEASE SOMEONE WRITE MORE FOR HIM IM DESPERATE AND STARVING FOR MORE KUZAN CONTENT

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literatureloverx · 3 months ago

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One of the things I find curious about Fyodor is that in the latest bsd guidebook, he describes himself as the color white like his hometown's snow. Fyodor still remembers his hometown, after all he's gone through and after all this time. And he describes himself as the color white like its snow. That with his character's disconnect from people, makes me very excited for when Asagiri decides to reveal his character's backstory. Of course he probably means snow in a more way of "purity" than sentimentalism for his hometown itself but omg he mentions his hometown which is something enough. Not "like snow" which would convey purity enough but "like the snow from my hometown". Maybe it's because he found his faith there? Maybe he just wants to pay respect to where he was birthed? Idk but there's much to theorize. What are your thoughts?

-🎪 anon

I agree, 🎪-anon!♥️

I don’t know if it’s because he found his faith there, but I think that is very likely and seems reasonable.

However, I also believe he was born into a religious family to begin with. I’ve thought through other aspects as well. Let me break it down for you:

Purity and Fyodor’s inner moral code:

Fyodor describing himself as the color white, especially like the snow from his hometown, speaks volumes. It hints at his complex inner moral code—he engages in dark actions under the belief that they serve a greater good.

This idea of “purity” contrasts sharply with his behavior. But does it?

In my humble opinion, he is well aware that what he does is evil, but his inner moral depiction is influenced by Machiavellian tendencies.

He does whatever he needs to do to cleanse humanity of their sins. Therefore, his actions reflect Machiavellian principles.

In short: the ends justify the means (The Prince by Niccolò Machiavelli).

I’m imagining it like this: God has given him the enormous power of being immortal—never truly able to die.

God also gifted him with an intelligence that is above any other human being.

This means he must be someone important.

This means he is meant to be the rightful hand of God, tasked with creating a world that is worthy of God’s beauty.

Therefore, he wishes to help God’s creations, cleansing them and this sinful world of all their sins.

This is one reason why he says that he likes all humanity equally. Because he really does.

They are all the same to him—fools who could do better. Fools that could be worthy of God’s perfect world.

What fascinates me the most about him is that, even though he is doing all of this out of pure self-assurance and his own complex inner moral compass, he still claims that he is doing it for the whole world. And I believe he does.

I can totally see this being his ultimate end in the future.

His Hometown and it’s significance for him:

By referencing his hometown, he reveals a more humane side to himself.

If you haven't already, l'd recommend you read THIS and THIS posts of mine, where I explained very clearly how I perceive Fyodor's humane side.

It shows that he yearns for connection and perhaps misses the simplicity and innocence of his past.

This duality makes him such a fascinating character, caught between his dark pursuits and the remnants of his humanity.

Imagine feeling like, or even knowing that you're "the chosen one," only to end up isolated, dehumanized, and lonely, with nothing to hold onto but your belief in your God.

You can't die, because the only way for you to do so is by your own hands, which is considered the greatest sin.

You can't die. Not until you take your own life.

How deep must his religious beliefs run for him to be this dedicated to his goal, mentally able to endure and live for hundreds, maybe thousands of years?

This made me so emotional. I want to give him a hug. My precious love.♥️

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd fyodor #bungou stray dogs fyodor #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #fyodor dostoevsky #bsd analysis #analysis #Fyodor analysis #bungo stray dogs x reader #fyodor x reader #fyodor x you #fyodor bsd

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neverchecking · 1 year ago

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*slams open door*I see requests are open!

May I request something nsfw with one of the chain where reader doesn’t know how to swim?

Reader just randomly brings up one day that she can’t swim and ask the chain for lessons. The chain obviously isn’t gonna give up the opportunity to see her in a swimsuit help their darling

I want to say that the best swimmer amongst the chain would be the one to help her but I’m not sure who that would be?

They don’t want to overwhelm her so they decided on having 1 on 1 lessons with her would be ideal, but they’re all just fighting on who has the better swimming skills/experience

Once someone emerges victorious, whether due to a begrudgingly unanimous decision or reader just going “oh, maybe ____ is the best choice!”, they manage to find a lake separate from the others

While reader enjoys her swimming lessons, no one says the Link giving her the lessons won’t be having wandering hands ;)))

~💚

💚anon!

Last time I told someone I couldn't swim, I did not live them down. I still have not lived it down.

Slight! NSFW So Minors stay away anyway?

You didn't say if you wanted Sage or not, but I added him anyway bc I love him <3

CW: sage is a big of a perv. but c'mon. We knew that.

"C'mon in, Y/N, the waters great!"

Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes-

"I'm okay for now." Your smile was as gentle as it was luminescent. Curving just enough to have the apples of your cheeks warming, but not enough to make your eyes crinkle in that positively adorable way. "Thank you for the offer though."

Re-emerging from the water, Hyrule shook his hair free of water before pushing it back. "Why not, love bug? Don't you wanna cool down?"

Staying out there meant staying out of their reach. Staying out there meant risking yourself in the elements. Staying out there put you at risk, didn't you see that?! You could get heat stroke, or sun burnt, or attacked by a rabid deer who's being chased by a feral bear. There were an unlimited number of possibilities that spelled nothing but disaster for you. And he couldn't handle losing you like that. Not in a million years.

Cherry red dusted your ears as they twitched and lowered, the tips touching your now hunched shoulders. You avoided their gazes, fiddling with the hem of your tunic. Why weren't you looking at them? Why weren't your eyes on them? WHY WEREN'T THEY THE CENTER OF YOUR UNIVERSE IN THE SAME WAY YOU WERE THEIRS?!

You mumbled something, which made their ears twitch only for it be in vein. A few glances around showed no once else had caught that either.

"Mind repeating that, dove?" Sky asked, still on shore with his own tunics half-off.

"I can't...swim." You grumbled, looking a tad more frustrated then before.

Silence.

"Well, why didn't you just say so, sunshine, I'd be thrilled to teach you." Arms wrapped around your mid-section, toned and muscled. Dark ink caught the peripheral of your vision. He all but purred into your ear before sharp canines caught the shell, gently pinching it before releasing.

"Sage-" You startled, arms flying out.

"You learned to swim with Sharks. Why the fuck would we trust you to teach them?" Hyrule snipped, eyes narrowed on their newest member. Hyrule had seen a lot in his time, don't get it twisted, but Sage was something new. A whole different creature. He was feral at best, down right savage at worst; with teeth sharper than some of their knives and a moral compass more broken than any villain he's ever faced off of. So in , what world would he trust that fucking loose canon with the most precious thing in his life?

"Because I still learned in clear waters. Not toxic dumps." Sage snapped back, those same teeth on display

"Knock it off." Time barked at the duo, glaring down Sage for his glare of disobedience before turning to his precious star shine, voice must softer than it previously was. "Have you just not wanted to learn? Or do you not have the opportunity?"

You shuffled a bit in Sage's arms. "I just- My old town was landlocked. Any lakes we had were used for fishing in the summer and frozen in the summer." You admitted. Which is a totally reasonable excuse. And not silly. And totally valid. And learning to swim is stupid and dumb anyway. >:(

The arms wrapped around your waist moved so hands could brush against your hips. Somewhere in the lake, there was a shout from Wind before a loud splash, someone throwing the poor boy deeper down stream.

"Offer still stands, I'd love to teach you, sunshine." Sage purrs, feeling your cheeks burn from where he was nuzzling into them. You hum at the offer, thinking for a second.

"If you don't mind, I think I'll take you up on that offer."

Sage grinned something sharp and malicious, redirecting you away from the others with a look over his shoulder.

"I'll bring 'em back when they've learned to swim. That may take all night however." He chuckled to himself, shaking his head at the glares directed at him.

Maybe one day they'd get to his level.

He doubted it though.

<><><><>

"That's it, sunshine, you're doing great."

"This is dumb-"

"No, you're doing so well. Just like that," His arms were spread beside him as he remained in front of you.

"Sage-"

"Shh, do you not trust me, my love?" Sage's smirk never left his face as he instead swept in closer. His one hand moved from treading water to brush up against your side. "Just like that."

Your blush deepened as he swayed his body effortlessly, laying underneath of you as he brought yours to lay over his.

"I've got you, don't you worry sunshine." His hand raised so his thumb pulled down you bottom lip. "Though, I do feel I've earned some sort of compensation. Maybe a little incentive to keep this lesson going?"

You swallowed.

"I mean...if only to continue the lessons I guess." You swallowed.

His smirk didn't ease your worries, but how could you think when all you could focus on was the blond's lips against yours?

You didn't even realized you were floating effortlessly.

Or the eyes watching your presumable private lesson, fuming in pure, red hot, anger.

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buckyarchives · 2 years ago

Text

would you like to dance | a. warlock

summary: after the defeat of the high evolutionary, everyone is dancing and celebration. except him.

small blurb, cute-meets, fluff, himbo adam and david bowie, duh. somewhat GOTG3 spoliers

a/n; adam warlock and will poulter have utterly bewitched me. and blonde, beefy himbos will always be my weakness. also, im so sorry for literally disappearing more months, im working on getting my inspiration back along with, IVE BEEN SO BUSYY. thank you, enjoy reading.

You'd never miss a chance to dance, especially now in the midst of a celebration. Everyone, new and old, the people were dancing and it couldn't have been any better. Especially to Florence + the machines. It was pure euphoria, even Nebula was singing her robotic arms and hips. Except him.

Golden skin and hair soaked damp from dirt and sweat, he was shaking a little and even looked scared, or better described as confused. You weren't oblivious, you recognized him from the attack. Having not anticipated one before or after the guardians left Knowhere in Cosmo, Kraglin and your defense; he took quite a damage to your planet.

Yet, he sat there shivering and looking so small despite the power inside of him. Everyone around you held peace and redemption high on their moral compass, you could only assume the guardians had choses to give the beautiful man a second chance. He still looked so melancholy as he gazed into the cheering crowd.

Your hips slowly stopped swaying and you let go the new kid's hands as they were just swinging in delight, excusing yourself as you made your way to him. Slow footsteps and you weaved through the crowd, the god-like man hadn't noticed your presence yet. To your surprise, only noticing when he slightly flinched as you spoke up with a small wave.

“Hey,” your voice came out soft and gentle. You noticed the gears turning in his head as he looked you up and down, almost as if he was assessing threats. You only sat a foot from him on the step while you waited for his response. The gentle nature and patience from you confused him, almost halting his thought process as he struggled to even greet you.

“S-salutations.'' He didn't mean to stutter, but a new feeling of embarrassment (one feeling he’d yet to feel until now, Adam decided he wasn't too fond of it) came over him as the syllables left his mouth. “I’m adam.”

You smiled softly and introduced yourself, an awkward beat fell over you two before he pointed up to the speakers. “What is this?”

“What is what?” your eyebrows furrowed as you leaned in closer to the man, not noticing how bright his golden eyes were.

“The sound, the melody, everyone is cheering and moving too.” he sounded so unsure of everything as he spoke, an aggressive confusion. It was almost adorable seeing a grown man so lost. But you had to grow accustomed to finding beings unknowing of the most basic things to you, the universe was big.

You laughed and Adam found himself smiling at the sound leaving your lips, “its music, Adam. People dance to music, Quill was a fan of this band, Florence and the machines are a popular band from earth.”

Adam was still slightly confused on the nature of what a band was and what machine made this melody but he nodded. He looked back at you and noticed the way your chest heaved slightly from dancing, grime on your face and arms from helping the kids and animals back onto knowhere, yet Adam felt an overwhelming feeling he would yet put a name too throughout his entire body. It made him feel jumpy and nervous, but also warm and relaxed at the same time. Emotions were quite confusing.

Then you began to sway, how could you not as the speakers began to blare David Bowie, probably your favorite earth artist. A smile graced your lips and, of course, Adam noticed. You were dancing, and it was beautiful.

Then, you finally turned to him, a light in your eyes as you offered him; “would you like to dance?”

Adam didn't know how to dance, he wasn't sure of much. Your hands were out and open for him, Adam tried to think about it but he was unsure of what to even think. Reluctantly and almost scared, he took your hands and the warmth enveloped him. You tugged him quite harshly to his feet, the blanket slipping from his shoulder as he stood awkwardly in front of you and around the crowds of people. Little children and even smaller animals scurrying around him, but he only saw you as you started to sway and bob your head. Adam felt an uncontrollable tug at his lips take over.

You looked up at him, he stood bulky and stiff in front of you, a stark contrast to everyone around. Adams eye scanned the area, a self conscious look in his bright eyes before looking at you, “i don't know how to dance.”

“Just let your body move to the music! However you want to!” you spoke over the music, jumping on the balls of your feet and spinning the sound of Starman by David Bowie.

Adam had never had the privilege to do ‘however he wanted’ so a part of him felt even more stunned. You noticed the hesitancy in his body and took his hands and started to swing, Adam still struggled to let go and lose the tense and stiff feeling in his body. “Come on, Adam!”

“Okay, okay!” he laughed, trying to move his shoulders and head similar to yours, not realizing the beaming smile on his face as the two of you danced. As he loosened his movements and you both moved much more fluidly, you jumped and swung your hips, Adam looked a little ridiculous as he moved his arms through the air but he felt free. Hand in hand you swayed around, Adam would spin you (with some guidance, obviously) and each of you would fill with laughter.

Adam was still quite underdeveloped in the material world, he didn't know a lot and many things were still so confusing. He had a lot of time to figure out what everything meant in this vast world, what every emotion felt like and how he should react. What Adam likes and dislikes, who he likes and dislikes.

Right now, as he music blasted around him along with smiles and cheers for the victory of defeating the high evolutionary. Adam moving in a more free way he's ever felt with you, smiling and so close to him it made his skin feel on fire. Adam decides he likes David Bowie, and dancing. Dislikes the feeling of hurting people and being ordered around. Really likes seeing you smile, and thinking about how he could make it happen more, and more.

#adam warlock #adam warlock x reader #marvel #guardians of the galaxy

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