#and riddle’s ready to short-circuit

[merakiui]

RAAA STEP BRO CATER 👹👹👹 he would ask his step sibling to do suggestive things and assures them it’s just an innocent trend :33

-🌧️

YES YES OMG MANY THOUGHTS!!!!

(cw: yandere, nsfw, stepcest, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, stalking, non-consensual photography, obsession, cater’s so creepy and gross >_<)

Sb!Cater who’s the first to swoop in when you’re brought into the family, if only to get to you before his sisters do. He doesn’t want you to become yet another sibling of his who he dreads seeing when he must return home from NRC. You take to him immediately, warming up to his friendly, “cute” personality. Of course his sisters also adore you, seeing so much potential to ruin you—or that’s how Cater views it. His sisters shower you in clothes they think you’ll love, and each outfit must be cuter than the last. Cater would feel sorry for you, but he just can’t when you seem so genuine in your gratefulness. Are you really okay with his sisters shaping you into something you might not be?

Most days, you spend your time being shown around the town by Cater. He introduces you to all of his favorite, most photogenic locations. He even takes a few selfies with you to commemorate your arrival! This is the most excited he’s been for anything. Maybe it’s because you’re interested in his photography. Or maybe it’s because you actually listen to him and treat him like a person rather than some dress-up doll. At first he sort of hated the idea of getting another sibling (especially if you’re a girl; that would mean yet another sister). He can hardly handle the two he has now, so the fact that you’re much more of a relief compared to his sisters is like the biggest blessing ever.

Cater finds he’s restless on the days his sisters take you out. What are they showing you? What are they telling you? Do they talk about him? He wants to be the one to share things at his own leisure. He’s supposed to be the cool brother! That image will be ruined if you come back knowing his life’s story. >:( when you aren’t home, Cater finds himself poking through your room. It was mainly curiosity at first, but then he’s opening your drawers to look at your belongings and to see just what kind of clothes you wear. It’s nothing bad, he thinks while he’s running his own internal assessments. Your clothes are cute, but are they really you? Do you like this sort of stuff, or is it just the influence of his sisters?

He mainly snoops. That’s all he really does aside from scrolling through his phone to look back on all of the photos he’s taken. The two of you went swimming last week, and he zooms in to look at all of the skin that’s not covered by a swimsuit. It’s silly to think this, but you really are cute. He spends the hour compiling an album of photos with you, cropping the ones that include other people. He’ll add more to this album soon.

The next time Cater’s in your room, it’s to steal your underwear. You won’t miss it; and even if you do his sisters will overhear and insist they take you shopping. So he gets to be greedy and pick from the selection. Grossly enough, he fishes through your dirty laundry instead of the drawer filled with clean pairs. He’s gone before you come back from the kitchen, and you’re wearing that pair of short shorts he likes so much. Maybe his sisters’ influence isn’t so bad this time…

Cater’s added more photos to his collection. Some taken of you when you fell asleep on the sofa watching a movie. Some taken of your silhouette against the shower curtain. Some taken of you as you’re getting ready, your back turned when he stuck his phone through the small crack in your door after it was left slightly open. He’s gotten daring with each photo, straying too close to being caught. It’s dangerous and wrong. You’re supposed to be his step-sibling. He shouldn’t have these thoughts about someone who’s meant to be family. But he thinks you’d be even cuter if he had a chance to ruin you. You don’t need his sisters’ influence. You need big brother Cay’s influence (sure, he’s only older by a month or two, but that still makes him your big brother)! :D

He’ll teach you all about the pretty parts of your body you rarely touch. And he’d know because he’s watched you for months and snooped through your things in search of sex toys. It’s a little exciting to wonder and theorize. Have you even used your fingers yet? Are you truly textbook virgin (like his friend Riddle. Oh, if that’s the case he must introduce the two of you!)? Have you even taken a cock before, whether silicone or not? It would be super cute if he was your first time! There’s a floor-length mirror in his room. He can spread you open when he slides you down on his cock to show you just how widely you’ll stretch to accommodate him. And of course he must record it! Good memories should be captured in permanence, right?

#twisted chit chat #🌧 anon #tw: stepcest #n/sfw #i need him… orz so many cater thoughts #cater introducing you to riddle and making the two of you fuck because ‘virgins lol’ #omg he probably got you drunk or gave you an aphrodisiac so now you’re all over riddle #and riddle’s ready to short-circuit #the thoughts are so scattered but i’m having a Cater Vision

[deadsetobsessions]

There’s a child wandering the streets of Crime Alley. Unfortunately, this is nothing new for the area, riddled with crime and homelessness as it is. However, Red Hood and Nightwing are vigilantes and helping lost looking children is firmly in their job description. Plus, Crime Alley is Red Hood’s. He protects what’s his. With a single shared look, the brothers swung down to the child clad in just a white dress and some thin flats completely unsuitable for Gotham’s worsening weather. Hell it’s be unsuitable for the general poor weather.

“Hey, kiddo.”

The girl’s head swung to lock gazes with the duo, eyes blinking blue- and green? Red Hood allowed his brother- he worked so hard to beat down the pit madness in order for Nightwing to even remain near- to take the lead.

“Oh. There you are.” She said, turning to face them fully. The kid’s face filled with relief.

Nightwing blinked.

“You were looking for us?” His soft voice saved for children firmed into something more serious, more concerned.

“Mmhm. I was looking for Red Hood, but you’re a good bonus.”

“And why were you looking for me, kid?” Red Hood interjects. He knows Dickolas is clocking the same things he is: the kid’s white whispy hair, pale face, and… Lazarus green eyes? It’s more solid now, that she’s looking at Jason.

Dick straightened, eyes going heavy as he looks at this wisp of a girl. He’s fiercely protective of Jason and they’re both equally wary of the League of Assassins. Still, the two of them couldn’t help but let their guard down a bit because this was still a child they’re talking to.

“Because… um. Did you know you’ve died?”

Hood stiffened, hand going towards his guns. Granted, they’re rubber bullets, but the kid clocks that immediately. She threw her hands up in the universal gesture of “I’m unarmed and mean no harm.”

“I- well, to put it frankly, you kind of… stink?”

“What.”

“Ugh, I’m totally messing this up!”

“Why don’t you start again?” Dick said, shifting into a subtler fighting stance. He kept his voice light, but Jason saw the way his hands inched towards the scrims sticks. Distantly, Jason thought it was hilarious that this tiny kid could evoke that kind of response. Looking into Lazarus green eyes though, he couldn’t find the humor anywhere. The worst thing, though, is that the pit quieted. The rage the bubbled incessantly underneath his skin calmed. Jason did not like feeling bereft of the rage, not when he didn’t know why it was gone. He had just gained control of it, minimally, and to have that control be unnecessary left the vigilantes off kilter.

“Right, okay, sorry. Um, did you, uh, die and wake up surrounded by glowing green stuff?”

Before Jason could reply ‘yes, and why the hell do you know that?’, the kid continued with, “Because me too!”

She did jazz hands as Jason’s and Dick’s brains short circuited. Jason thought he even heard a little “yay!”

“What.” Jason sputtered out. His stomach and heart clenched as he thought about how young the kid looked. Fuck.

“Yeah. So, anyways-”

“Don’t speed past that like you didn’t say what you just said!” Dick interrupted, hand tugging at his hair in distress. His body language slipped from battle ready to extremely distressed. “You died?”

“You were- you were dipped in the Lazarus pits?!” Jason felt the need to address that specific point.

“I mean, it’s not that important? The important thing is- wait, what’s a Lazarus pit?”

Jason froze again. She didn’t know what they were?

“It’s… the glowing green stuff.” Dick answered her.

“Oh. Is that what you were dipped in?” She tilted her head at Jason. He nodded, wariness climbing. “Oh. Well, I mean, that’s not we call it. But the stuff you were dipped in, it’s rank. Contaminated.”

Jason thinks back to the burning, drowning green. The agony he felt as it slipped into his mouth and nose and his very being.

“It was bubbling.” He said. The girl grimaced. Jason had no idea why he was being so honest with this kid.

“Gross. Anyways, I can, like, help you with that?”

“With what?” Dick asked, eyes darting from the girl to Jason.

The girl groaned. “Okay, so I guess you guys are kind of new. Uh, the contaminated green stuff,” she points at Jason’s chest. “That’s making you angry, right? Leaving you in the backseat of your head as your body breaks whatever got you angry to begin with and you have no control over it?”

“…The pit madness.” Jason mumbled, feeling numb. “Yeah.”

“…Right. I can help you clear that out,” she pauses, fidgeting. “If… If you help me talk to Batman? It’s kind of… urgent.”

“Batman?”

“Why?”

“Uh. There’s kind of… a whole mad scientist thing going on and like… experimentation and dissections… you know?” The kid waved her arms around, distressed.

Dick and Jason unfortunately did know.

“Cave?” Jason grumbled.

“Cave.”

“Okay, we’ll bring you to the cave. Then you tell us everything.”

“Really?”

She looked up at them hopefully, and Jason could see the moment Dickolas melted. Not that Jason could say anything, since he was already taking off his jacket and bundling the kid in it.

“Um.”

“Who the hell let you walk around Gotham like that?” He scowled down at her, not that she could see it with the red helmet in the way. Dick looked at him carefully, eyes roving over the oddly relaxed state his little wing was in.

The kid shrugged. Jason sighs.

“What’s your name?” Dick asked. Scooping her up, the blue and black clad raised his free arm to grapple away. Jason follows him, heading towards the motorcycles they’ve got parked nearby.

“Dani. With an I.”

“Nice to meet you, Dani. I’m Nightwing. This is my… this is Red Hood.”

“Okay. Cool.”



#danny phantom #danielle phantom #danielle fenton #red hood #jason Todd #dick grayson #nightwing #dani going: you stink but I can help with that #dani trying to save her siblings from the GIW by bribing/blackmailing the vats #like they wouldn’t just take a look at this literal child and jump a cliff to help #dani: I need help #also dani: let me insult a crime lord #the plan worked though #this has been sitting in my drafts for too long #dani is both traumatized and a sassy little shit #dani ‘haven’t learned social cues’ Fenton #to be fair it’s not like vlad cared for social niceties #vlad the creep #dani dresses like she wants to get mugged on purpose

[suugarbabe]

heyy! you're one of my fav angst writers so I was wondering if you could write a mattheo riddle x reader fic where Mattheo enjoys making reader jealous so reader goes out if her way to make mattheo jealous which ends in confessions and perhaps a smutty ending/ fluffy ending? Whatever you see fit! Thank youuuu~

(1) thank you sooo much, if I could I would just write all day long, I'm so glad you like what I put out there

(2) I loooove a jealous Teo 😊; here you go love x

warnings: angst, mentions of drinking, oral (f!receiving)

word count: 1.9k

18+ MDNI!! be aware of the content you consume, do not read if you are a minor.

“You know if you glare any harder, you might bore a hole through the man,” Pansy’s comment did nothing to stray your eyes away from the scene in front of you. “Yeah, well he deserves it, he’s doing this shit on purpose. It’s like he gets off on making me jealous.” You watched as Mattheo continued to shamelessly flirt with the Hufflepuff girl seated next to him. She was a giggling mess at basically anything he was saying, “He’s not that funny, she’s being obnoxious.” Pansy snorted at your comment, simply shaking her head. It was when Mattheo tucked a loose strand behind her ear that you felt like your brain was short-circuiting. Pansy saw the look on your face, then followed your eyes to Mattheo and the girl, “Oh he’s in for it now isn’t he.” You let out a huff of frustration, closing your textbook and leaving the classroom. 

In your dorm room you were getting ready for the party your house was throwing tonight. Typically you dressed a little more relaxed for parties your house hosts because it’s more homey to you, but tonight you were going full on vixen. You opted for a black mini dress, skin tight and hugging all the right places. You paired it with emerald green heels, a gold necklace adorned with an emerald stone and a gold snake bracelet. You allowed Pansy to do your hair and makeup, making your eyes pop and leaving your hair down your back in bouncing waves, just like you knew your boyfriend liked. 

However, he was barely going to touch you tonight. Not until you allowed him to anyway. This morning he fucked around, tonight he was going to find out. When you and Pansy entered the party it was in full swing. You spotted your group of boys in the back corner, and Merlin if Mattheo didn’t look amazing. But you took a deep breath, centering yourself. No matter how good he looked, you had to stick to your plan. Pansy bounced over to Draco, throwing her arms around him and greeting him with a big kiss to his cheek. It was obvious the boys had been drinking for a while before you both got there simply by the reaction Draco had, which was a big smile and giggle. 

You walked to the group a little slower. When you approached them, Mattheo’s eyes grew wide. You could see him looking you up and down and you did your best to appear unbothered by this. He gave you a kiss on the forehead, you just hummed in return. He met your eyes, “Something wrong, princess?” You put on a big smile, “No, Teo, nothing is wrong. Why did you do something you shouldn’t have?” He raised an eyebrow at you questioningly, “Erm, no..?” Your mouth fell to a tight line, how could he be so oblivious, or was he still playing the game from earlier? You decided it was your turn now, and glanced around your circle of friends for the perfect accomplice. 

Besides your boyfriend, Enzo was your favorite boy in the group. He was always so cheerful, smile plastered on his face regardless of the situation. He was a cute guy, always having his own gaggle of girls following him around, but he never really entertained it. He always seemed more interested in quidditch or parties. When he saw you looking at him his smile grew wider, “Y/n, you look, wow.” You giggled, “Thank you, Enzo, that’s very kind.” If possible his smile grew wider as he took another sip of his drink. Mattheo went to place his hand on your waist possessively, but you pushed him off, instead walking up to Enzo, “You wanna dance with me, Enzo?” Enzo’s eyes flicked to Mattheo but you grabbed hold of Enzo’s jaw, pulling him down to face you, “Please, Enzie, you know Teo never dances with me and I wanna have fun tonight.” You put on your best pout, looking up through your lashes. 

You saw his shoulders slack, indicating that you had convinced him. You bounced on your toes, clapping your hands together. You knew the hem on your dress was riding up as you did so, and you could feel Mattheo’s eyes boring a hole in your back. You grabbed Enzo’s hand that wasn’t holding his drink and dragged him to the middle of the dance floor, ignoring any protests you heard from Mattheo as you passed. He looked over at Pansy, eyebrows nearly to the ceiling. Pansy held her hands up in defense, “Maybe if you’re lonely you can ask that Hufflepuff girl to dance?” Mattheo’s lips slowly turned into a smirk, realizing now the game you were playing at. 

Once near the middle of the dance floor, you turned your back to Enzo, swaying your hips and grinding against him. He free hand held firm to your waist as you snaked an arm up and around his neck. He let your bodies move against each other before enlightening you, “I know what you’re doing, y/n/n.” You turn to face him, wrapping your hands behind his neck, still dancing with your body pressed to his, “You mean just dancing with one of my best guy friends?” Enzo rolled his eyes, “I know you’re using me as a ploy to make Mattheo jealous. Don’t worry though…” He leaned in closer, whispering against your ear, “He’s been a dick on the quidditch pitch all week so I’ll play along. We can give him a little show if you want.” You nodded your head quickly, then Enzo went straight to work. 

As the next song came on Enzo grabbed hold of your waist, fingers dancing just above the curve of your ass. As the beat of the song got stronger, Enzo slotted his leg between yours, guiding you to essentially grind on his thigh. The song was barely a minute in before you felt another arm wrap around your waist and lift you away from your dancing partner. You didn’t even panic, you knew who it was and the way he talked to Enzo had warmth rushing to the pit of your stomach, “I don’t know what the fuck game you’re playing at Lorezno but it’s over.” Enzo held his hands up, “Listen, mate, she asked me to dance. Who am I to tell her no?” Mattheo grumbled some form of ‘fuck you’ back to him as he carried you to the edge of the dance floor and towards the stairs leading up to the dorms. 

“Exactly where are we going? I’m not done dancing, nor drinking. There’s like the whole night left to party,” You were struggling against Matteo’s grip now, which only tightened with your fighting. “Oh, you’re done with the party, princess. You wanted to act like a little slut with my friend, well now I’m going to treat you like a slut.” You gasped as he threw you down on his bed, “Excuse me, sir, but Enzo is my friend too. And I wasn’t acting like a slut…we were just dancing.” Mattheo rolled his eyes, pushing you back on to the bed and crawling over you. He dipped his head in the crook of your neck, nipping at the skin making you gasp, “You don’t dance like that with my friends.” 

He nipped and sucked at the skin of your neck, “O-our friend.” You barely got the words out, Mattheo’s hands trailing down your sides and playing with the hem of your dress. “Do you want our friend to be here right now because if you’d rather he help you out,” Mattheo dragged his middle finger up your clothed center, “I’m sure he’d kill to feel how wet he got you.” You tried to buck your hips towards him, tried to gain any friction possible, “N-not for him, all for you T-Teo.” He hummed, trailing his lips up your neck and along your jaw, “F’me, hmm? But you’ve barely been by me all night.” He was toying with you now, thumb drawing circles over your bundle of nerves, not nearly applying the pressure you needed. You shook your head, “Only was thinking of you, wanted, ah, wanted to make you jealous.” 

Mattheo hooks his fingers around the band of your panties, dragging them down agonizingly slow. You tug at the sides of your dress, allowing it to bunch up around your waist, “You wanting me to do something, love?” Mattheo looks up at you, eyes dancing with deviance. You tangle your fingers in his hair, “Need you, Teo.” He growled lowly at the wine in your tone, “What do you need from me, princess? Use your words.” You tugged at his curls, “Mouth, need your mouth on me.” He toys with you now, laying on his stomach, smoothing his palms up your legs, squeezing the flesh of your thighs before placing a kiss to each one, “Here?” 

You buck your hips toward him, causing him to flatten a palm against your hip, keeping you still. Without warning he flattens his tongue, licking a stripe up your center. You let out a choked gasp, head falling back against the pillow, “Oh, there? Is that what you want, princess?” You open your mouth to respond when he does it again, this time pressing his thumb down on your clit as he does so. “Loss for words now, hmm? But you were talking such a big game earlier.” You want to glare at him, to tell him to fuck off but the way his mouth feels on you is pure bliss.

Your nails scratch on his scalp and the growl he releases sends vibrations straight to your core. He grips your thighs tighter, surely causing bruises but in the moment you can’t get yourself to care. His lips wrap around your clit, sucking hard as he plunges three fingers knuckle deep into you. Your back arches off the bed, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Teo, don’t stop, please.” 

You can feel the smirk on his face as he works his fingers just slightly faster, the knot in the pit of your stomach becoming tighter with each curl, each lick, each twist. Your hips roll against in face, grip tightening in his hair until you’re practically using him, riding his tongue and chasing your high and the feeling gets tighter and tighter and then the rubber band snaps, your mouth drops open and a chorus of praises mixed with his name leave your mouth. And he lets your ride it out on his tongue, on his fingers, but even when you begin to settle he doesn’t stop. He pushes against the sensitive nerves and you feel like you’re going to black out from the pleasure as he demands a second release from you before you can even stop it, not that you would even want to at this point. As you catch your breath you chance a look down at him between your thighs, catch him rub a thumb across his lips, gathering your arousal and sucking it off. You smile at him and he just grins at you, a lovestruck look on his face, “If this is my punishment I’m gonna have to make you jealous more often.” You were teasing, but slightly serious. Mattheo crawls over you, face hovering just above yours now, “Oh darling, I’m just getting started.”

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle one shot #mattheo riddle angst #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you

[slytherinboysappreciation]

Moonlight - T. R. x werewolf fem!Reader

A/N: this is the second part of a Tom Riddle x Werewolf!Reader story I’m writing. No use of Y/N.

Series Masterlist

CW: Teasing, pet names, mostly just a fluffy filler chapter, Reader being suspicious of Tom, more mentions of Reader’s heightened sense of smell

753 word count

You’re surprised at how smoothly your study sessions go after the incident with the Ravenclaw. Tom no longer wears too much cologne. He doesn’t stare at you all the time either. It’s almost unnerving how quickly he changed.

You find it suspicious. He must be up to something. Tom is never this nice or willing without some nefarious reason behind it. Perhaps he’s just putting up with your demands so he can continue to keep an eye on you.

After four days you start to stare at him instead.

You don’t mean to. You just can’t stop thinking about what he must be planning, and somehow it leads to you staring intently at his face.

Like right now. You barely manage to catch yourself in time to avoid meeting his oddly amused gaze.

“You know, for someone who hates staring, love, you do it quite a lot.”

Your brain short-circuits. ‘Love’? ’Love’?! He just called you love?!

You can feel your traitorous cheeks flush. “I’m not staring,” You say hotly.

Tom chuckles. “Of course not. I’m just… distracting you again, right?”

You narrow your eyes. He sounds playful, but it has to be a trap. “I didn’t say that.”

The corner of his mouth twitches up like he’s trying not to grin. “But you did call me distracting last week.”

Your face starts to burn with embarrassment. You did call him that, didn’t you?

“Well- I- That was last week,” You say, tilting your head up. “When you wore too much cologne.”

His amusement just seems to grow. “But I’m not wearing cologne now.”

That makes you pause. He’s… not…?

You sniff the air suspiciously. No, he must be. No person smells that good naturally. There’s no way his confidence and amusement smell nice to you.

You eye him and stay silent. Tom smirks.

“I wasn’t staring,” you mutter, going back to your studying. “I was strategically observing.”

Tom chuckles again. “Of course you were, love. Of course you were.”

You hide your reddening cheeks behind your textbook.

It’s almost infuriating. Every time you resolve to not think about him, he does something new to distract you.

Maybe that’s his nefarious plan: get you to fail your classes by distracting you. That must be it. That has to be it. He must be doing this for a reason.

Right?

Your confusion and suspicions are surprisingly decreased a few days later.

You show up to your study spot as normal, but instead of Tom already being there with his parchment and quill ready, Lorenzo Berkshire’s lounging in one of the chairs.

You stop and stare at him. He smells nervous and excited.

It takes a moment for him to notice you. When he does, he sits up immediately, giving you a friendly grin. “Hi! You’re Tom’s girl, right? His study partner?”

You bristle a bit at being called ‘Tom’s girl’, but relax again once he’s finished with his question. “Yeah, that’s me.”

You move closer, studying him. His grin doesn’t falter, even when you sniff the air a bit suspiciously. It annoys you a little. Tom must have told him about your lupine tendencies.

“I’m Enzo. Tom’s busy with something today, so he sent me in his place,” Lorenzo says cheerfully. “He didn’t want you to think he’d abandoned you.”

It’s annoying how warmth blooms in your chest at the thought that Tom cared enough to ensure a replacement study partner.

You sit across from Lorenzo and nod. “Alright,” you say slowly. “But you’d better be a good study partner.”

He grins. “I am.”

You pull out your parchment and quill.

True to his word, Lorenzo is an amazing study partner. He’s good with words, helping you outline your essay with ease. You go even further than that.

You pick his brain, shamelessly using his intelligence to help you edit and craft your essay. He doesn’t write the essay for you, though. You just filter your ideas through him.

Within an hour, you have the best essay you’ve ever written. You leave the library happy and satisfied. Lorenzo just grins as he follows you out.

“I can see why Tom likes studying with you so much.”

You smile at him, preening a bit at the compliment. “Thank you! I do prefer Riddle, but you’re quite a good study partner yourself.”

He chuckles and runs a hand through his hair. “Glad to be of service.”

You turn to go. “Bye, Enzo.”

“See you around.”

Maybe Tom’s friends aren’t as bad as you’d assumed they were.

#tom riddle x you #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle #reader is from an unspecified hogwarts house #divider by cafekitsune

[ohraicodoll]

Preview: Hunger

Joel Miller x Feral Reader The Last of Us (Show/Game) Feral Reader Masterlist Hey, look, I’m writing again! It’s been very chaotic irl between my jobs, getting sick, my dog getting ill, and everything. But I’m hoping to try and get this done this week or early next week but wanted to at least give you all a fun sneak peak! I’m getting back into the swing of writing Red and Joel again so aimed for something that’ll be a little fluffy before I write anything dark.  So here’s a little excerpt:  “I’m sorry, you what?” she asked, brow furrowed together and shirt dangling from her fingertips. The moonlight was bright that night, casting the room in tints of blues and grays and illuminating the almost hesitant look on Joel’s face. He was hardly ever hesitant but the words he’d spoken had been softer than normal, less assured. It had instantly made her more on guard but his words had caused completely short circuited her brain. And now he was chewing on the inside of his cheek, bare chest hunched over on the side of the bed with his elbows resting on his jean clad knees, “You really gonna make me repeat myself?” “Yes, so I know if you just had an aneurism or not,” she replied dryly, her own hesitancy rising to the surface. Skittish, ready to scamper away at the first sign of vulnerability sometimes.  Joel sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, leg jittering giving away his nerves, “Would you want to go on a date with me?” “...Tex, we live together-” “Yeah, I know,” he huffed with exasperation and grabbed the shirt from her hand, tossing it to the ground, and using her hand to pull her closer to stand between his thighs. Instinctively, her hands rested on his shoulders, feeling the muscles bunch and tense at the contact. His own trailed around her waist, teasing the thin band of her underwear and the way goosebumps rose in his wake. “You…wanna go…on a date…?” She asked cautiously back as if he was asking to go jump off the top of the outer gates. “I mean, do you?” Brow furrowed, fingers tensing, confusion contorted her lips, “I…feel like this is like a weird riddle…I’m not sure how you want me to answer.” Did he blackout and get amnesia and forget they were together? Were they together? He had insinuated it (okay, maybe not insinuated and more practically said it) but maybe she had misread things- Joel groaned and rested his forehead against her bra covered chest, the sound half exasperated and half amused, “Sweetheart, it’s not a trick question.” “Could have fooled me.”

#joel miller x feral reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x ofc #series: feral #raicodoll writes #joel miller imagine #tlou fanfiction #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fanfic

[hiiroamagisbestfriend]

Helloo!! I saw that requests are open so can I ask for 2wink + Kohaku confession? And can I be 🦋 anon???? Thank you!! <3

Confession Headcanons!

w/ Hinata Aoi, Yuta Aoi, & Kohaku Oukawa x GN! Reader

AAA another anon! of course! glad to have you here ^^ im apologizing in advance if they're kinda ooc 😵‍💫 i had a lot fun writing these though, so thank you!

Warnings: None! Just some fluff and happy misunderstandings!

Hinata Aoi

✩ Hinata I feel, would realize pretty early on in your friendship that he really loves you. The thing is though, he's a prankster at heart, and even the subject of his affection wouldnt be immune to that.

✩ Like, he wouldn't tone them down for you at all. In fact you'd probably be his primary victim after he realizes his feelings for you. Childish, right? He acknowledges this, and Yuta would reprimand him for it quite often, saying how what he's doing could have the opposite effect on you.

✩ But see, this is just his way of showing affection! Seeing your shocked face slowly soften into laughter at whatever it was he did made him feel all fuzzy inside. He could just pop out of a corner to shock you but you'd still eat up something that simple.

✩ There was another perk to this behavior though, and it's that he could always wave off his actions as a prank if you didn't seem to receive it all that well.

✩ Flowers on your desk? Haha! He just wanted to see your reaction! Giving you chocolates? Well, one of them is spicy! A hug from behind? It's just to surprise you! All the common acts of affection that he people would have, he could easily write off as just another silly prank.

✩ But one day, he decided it was finally time to tell you how he really feels. If the result was unsatisfactory, then he'll just backpedal like he always did.

✩ He would never admit it out loud, but he knows exactly why he built up this kind of image. He was afraid. Afraid of you refusing his feelings. Afraid of losing you and the wonderful friendship you two shared.

"What did you call me out for this time, Hinata?" You said, playfully scolding the boy who couldn't seem to meet your gaze. He looked a bit more serious than usual... Or maybe that's what he wanted you to think...? "Uh, Hinata? You o-"

Before you could finish, he finally decided to look at you, and you could see just how flushed pink his face was. "(Y/N)! I really, really like you!" With how genuine he said it, you almost seemed to forget this was the mischievous trickster that messed with you on a daily basis.

Well, the truth is you liked him too. How could you not? He was just such a fun guy to be around. His daily pranks and teasing basically became the status quo for you. But you bit your lip, not sure how to respond to this apparent declaration of love.

When Hinata saw that face of yours riddled with confusion, he was just about ready to bail. Seeing you ruminate on his words for a while formed a pit in his stomach.

"Got ya! Haha! Sorry, (Y/N)! Did that make your heart skip a beat? T'was just a joke!" His delivery was so stinted and forced that you really had no idea what was going on anymore. Though he said it was a joke, you could somehow tell it wasn't.

Hinata was ready to start running in the complete opposite direction, only stopping when he suddenly felt you tug at his clothes. "It's not a joke, is it?"

The slight smirk on your face made Hinata shiver, is this what it feels like to be on the receiving end of these sorts of things? "A-aha! Yep! It's a joke! Why, do you like me or something?" He sounded a bit too desperate towards the end there, but that wasn't important.

"I did. Hinata." His jaw dropped, was this for real? He's so happy he could cry! "Sorry, that was a lie." Well, now he just wants to cry normally! "Cause I actually love you!"

His brain short circuited when you pulled him in for a hug. In just the span of a few seconds you really took him for a ride didn't you? You rascal!

"Is that so? Well, in that case I lied too..." Hinata hugged you back, squeezing you so hard it was like he would never let you go. "I guess I love you too!"

Yuta Aoi

✩ Yuta fell in love slow, but he fell HARD. Unlike his silly brother though, he wouldn't want to do such roundabout things to express his feelings.

✩ Rather, he simply doesn't. Instead of jokingly telling you how he loves you, he just. Chooses not to.

✩ Sure some people see that kind of thing as cowardly, but he just doesn't want to try anything until he's sure. He'd hate nothing more than to do the wrong thing in a situation as complicated as love.

✩ Yuta loved you, but he had no way of confirming if you would feel the same. Sure, you were kind to him and always offered to help him out at all sorts of things, but maybe you were just like that with everyone?

✩ Nothing you did ever made him feel like he was special to you after all, like you wouldn't treat him any differently from any of the other guys around.

✩ So maybe, just maybe, choosing to give up on you while it's still early would be the better choice. He did want to check just one thing before he does though.

✩ Yuta doesn't particularly like doing this, but it's for a good cause, he rationalizes as he styles his hair to look like Hinata's. Putting on some of his clothes as well before adapting the cheerier tone that his brother uses.

✩ This was a needlessly complicated plan, and he was worried if he could even pull it off. Still though, with how many loops he's jumping just to confirm your feelings, seems Yuta is more like his brother than he'd like to admit.

"Oh! Fancy running into you here, (Y/N)!" Yuta called out to you, though it wasn't a coincidence. You smiled and rushed over to him, Yuta's heart squeezing a bit as he felt guilty for what he was about to do. "Are you free right now? There's something I wanted to ask you."

The two of you make conversation as you just aimlessly walk around, no clear destination in mind. "So! What do you think about Yuta?" He suddenly piped up, part of him worried that it was too direct, but he has more important things to deal with right now.

Yuta watched your face scrunch up a bit as you went into thought. "He's nice and friendly, a bit mischievous like his brother, and he has a good eye for sweets." He didn't expect such a logical analysis, though his question was a bit vague.

"Haha! Let me rephrase that. How do you feel about Yuta?" He watched your face scrunch up a bit again, a much more serious expression on your face this time.

"He's a good friend. I like him a lot! He recommended me a good cafe the other day too!" You replied, Yuta's face darkening a bit at the notion of being called friend.

"So, (Y/N). How would you react if I said I love you?" He watched you get shocked for a second before a slight blush tints the tip of your ears. His heart hurt a bit at this sight, did you end up liking his brother of all people? That would just be too sad.

"Then I'd say: I love you too, Yuta!" Huh? That wasn't the response he was expecting at all? You actually liked him back? Wait no, first of all you knew it was him rather than Hinata?

"How could you tell?" Yuta asked straight up, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks.

"Of course I could tell. Yuta is his own person after all?" You said it so matter-of-factly that Yuta was taken aback. For so much of his life, he's always just been Hinata's twin, the other half of 2wink. For someone to actually see him for who he is...? Oh he'd never let you go.

You let out a yelp as he suddenly enveloped you in a tight hug. "I'll confess properly another time." His voice was a bit strained, as if he was holding back tears he didn't know he had. "But for now. Thank you. I love you."

Kohaku Oukawa

✩ Oh Kohaku, the silly ever.

✩ He spent most of his life alone, and what little social interaction he had was online, so suffice to say he didn't understand how he felt for you at all in the beginning.

✩ Why did his heart beat a bit faster whenever you're around? His palms would get a bit sweaty, and he'd find it difficult to meet your eyes.

✩ He didn't attribute these occurences to you at the start, simply thinking that he was just feeling off or some other external factor was causing it.

✩ But when he eventually realized you were the cause of these weird feelings? Hm, he did not know what to do at all. Who could he even turn to at moments like these? The others at Crazy:B would tease him about it, he just knows it. Madara seems like he'd know the answer, but owing him favors wasn't something Kohaku wanted.

✩ So who was left? He didn't really know that many people, much less trust them enough to figure out what was wrong with him.

✩ Because of that, he decided to just start journaling his thoughts on you. Like how he thought your eyes looked very pretty, to how much he wanted to play with your hair. He wrote about how your hands seem like the perfect size to slot his fingers into; and though he hasn't had one, he knows a hug from you would be just perfect.

✩ Something told him that he probably shouldn't show this to other people. He doesn't know why his face heats up ever so slightly whenever he's writing about you either.

✩ It was one late evening with Kohaku laying down on his bed, staring at the ceiling, before realizing something absolutely dreadful. This was love, wasn't it? This definitely fit with the "rabu-i" things Aira would always pester him about.

✩ So that was it huh? He was in love with you. When he realized that, he breathed a sigh of relief. It would have been pretty bad if he was getting sick or something after all. He's truly glad it was just something this simple.

✩ He was about to write down how he feels when he had yet another grim realization that evening. He had left his bag along with the journal inside the practice room he was using earlier that day.

✩ Kohaku made a mad dash from Seisoukan all the way to ES, ignoring literally everyone asking him what on earth he was doing. When he got to ES in record time, he quickly made his way to the practice room, busting the door open to see that his bag was no longer there.

✩ In the ES Lost & Found, you yawned a bit, placing this bag you just found along with the other missing items. It sure is tiring work to be watching over these things, lots of people just love leaving their stuff around everywhere like ES is their home. This is just another part of your job, you surmise.

✩ You let out a shriek when a certain pink haired boy suddenly came crashing into you. The bag and it's contents flying out all over the place.

"Are ya' okay?!" You heard, from somewhere above you. Were you on the floor? Your sense of balance was all wrong and it felt like something heavy on top of you was making it hard to breathe. "'M so sorry!" The same voice cried out before your eyes finally decided to open and see that the boy that ran into you was currently right on top of you.

All of a sudden, a light thud resounds as a journal falls right on top of his head and onto the ground, opening it up to some random page. Kohaku quickly gets off you and grabs the journal, shoving it into his bag.

He helps you get back to your feet, before bowing down to apologize again. You wave him off and tell him it was nothing, much to his surprise. "Why were you in such a rush, though?" You asked, eyeing the bag he was clutching like his life depended on it.

"Ah. Uh. Ya' see... There was somethin' I needed from my bag!" He stammers, whatever it was he needed back he clearly wanted to hide. Still, there were procedures to these sorts of things, you had to confirm that it was really him who owned this stuff after all.

You gave him a form to fill out, telling him that you need to check the contents before you can hand it back to him. His face darkened at your words, the grip on his bag tightened so much his knuckles went white.

You wonder how you can verify if that bag is really his when you remembered he had a journal thing that he stuffed in his bag. "Ah, if you could just show me something there that matches with your handwriting in the form, that should be good enough!" He rummages through his bag before shaking his head. "There was a journal there, right? That'll do just fine!"

Kohaku was shaking his head so much it looked like it could fall off. Your lips formed into a line as you explained how you can't give it back to him like this, even if it really was his stuff.

Kohaku quickly rummaged through his bag again, surely there was something, anything but the journal that could prove his identity?! But just like last time, he came up blank. With a shaky hand, he pulls the journal out and hands it over to you.

He could only watch as you opened it and started reading it to compare his handwriting. He could see the light pink starting to dust your features as you continued to study his journal.

Eventually, after what felt like hours, you handed it back to him. "Yep! I can confirm that it's yours!" You could feel just how hot your face was. Even though you just caught a glimpse of it, you could tell that this boy seemed to have fallen for you.

Well, he was pretty cute, and this is certainly an interesting first meeting. "So, was this your master plan in letting me know your feelings, Kohaku?" Hm, pink is a good color on him, not just on his hair and eyes, but his face too.

Kohaku was cringing so hard, he can't believe this just happened to him. Still, it's not like he can worm his way out of this one can he? Might as well run with it.

"Ahaha... Ya' caught me! I love ya, (Y/N)."

ugh im sorry the kohaku one is so mid i couldnt think of anything at all

#.✨. #.🦈. #.🦋. anon #enstars x reader #aoi hinata x reader #hinata aoi x reader #aoi yuta x reader #yuta aoi x reader #kohaku oukawa x reader #oukawa kohaku x reader #aoi yuta #yuta aoi #hinata aoi #aoi hinata #kohaku oukawa #oukawa kohaku #enstars

[eriadu-in-the-wildwood]

number 1 or 3 for the bed sharing thingy? 🥺 thasmin of course

Thanks for the prompt! I went with 3: "Person A waking up to Person B curled up and sleeping on top of them."

Sorry this took forever (I got quite carried away on this one)! For anyone who hasn't read All curled up (sunlight), I recommend checking it out, otherwise this won't make much sense. Also, I'm going to eventually expand this and make it officially chapter 2 of that fic, so stay tuned for that! Anyway, here you go:

On a fuzzy alien planet, a shadow restrained Yaz. It pinned her to the ground, a ground that was strangely soft beneath her spine. Above, the blurry outlines of buildings—or were those trees?—loomed. 

Her assailant pressed harder into her chest. Something jabbed her in the ribs. She gasped and thrashed.

Where was the Doctor? What happened? Why couldn’t she remember?

The shadow shifted, stealing her breath with a blow to the stomach. A rumble filled her ears, and something rattled against her chest.

“Yaz.” A low murmur in her ear.

The Doctor! 

Yaz thrashed harder—she needed to escape, the Doctor could be in trouble!

A growl fell over her, then a breath that raised goosebumps along her neck. She froze and imagined teeth at her throat, claws ready to rip her apart, sturdy bone poised to beat her senseless.

“But Yaz, I’m hungry,” the Doctor whined.

What the hell?

Another shift of weight, the tease of lips on her neck, that breath drifting over her skin again. Yaz startled awake.

She tried to sit, but the Doctor was curled up on top of her. How had she even wound herself that tightly into a ball? Her lips brushed Yaz’s throat, her nose tickled Yaz’s ear. The rest of her body was pulled into itself, firmly crushing Yaz’s chest.

Well, her dream made sense now. She tried to squirm out from under the Doctor. No luck, just a furrowed brow and a sleepy growl. Yaz paused and the Doctor’s body relaxed. That rumble from her dream started up again.

Purring. Again. 

Not that it wasn’t adorable, but was her girlfriend half cat now? She never had received an acceptable explanation for what happened when Short Circuit had holed up in the console.

Yaz tried to move again.

The Doctor unfolded and turned over, pinning her even more effectively. The purring intensified.

This wasn’t going to be easy to escape without waking her. She’d been acting so weird lately, she probably needed the sleep. And anyway, that purr was oddly soothing, as was the warm weight pressing Yaz into the mattress.

She gave up the fight and closed her eyes.

-------

Hours later, the Doctor scrunched up her nose in her sleep, rolled over, and starfished over Yaz’s stomach. She wriggled, spine grinding into Yaz’s ribs. At this rate, Yaz was going to be riddled with bruises before the Doctor’s nap was over. Time to wake her up.

Yaz sat up as much as she could and whispered in the Doctor’s ear. “Doctor, wake up.”

A groan and another wriggle.

“Doctor. Please. You’re crushing me, here.”

A scronch.

“Doctor!”

Nothing.

Twisting, straining, Yaz managed to work her left arm out from under the Doctor’s bony hip. Then her right, from where it was trapped under the Doctor’s shoulder. 

The Doctor stayed dead to the world. Yaz shoved her off.

With a hiss, the Doctor popped up onto her hands and knees, arched her back, and bared her teeth at Yaz. 

“Woah, it’s just me!” Yaz held her hands up and scooted to the opposite side of the bed. She probably wasn’t about to get bit, but why take the chance?

The Doctor stared. Her back lowered. The tension drained out of her jaw. She blinked. “Yaz?”

“Hey.” Yaz crawled over and laid a hand on her cheek. “Sorry for the rude awakening. You were so deeply asleep I was starting to worry.”

Sitting back on her haunches, the Doctor blinked again and tilted her head at Yaz. “Worry? Why? I don’t need as much sleep as you, but my deep sleep cycle can go on for—”

“No bullshit, please.”

The Doctor frowned. “I wasn’t—”

“You were doing that thing again.”

The head tilt’s angle increased. “What thing?”

“The purring thing.”

“I was not!” The Doctor turned away and threw her legs over the side of the bed like she was about to escape this conversation. Instead, she yawned and her shoulders slumped.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with it,” Yaz said. She reached out and touched the Doctor’s forearm. “But the last time you did that, and the last time you slept this much, your brain was being, I don’t know… infected, or whatever, by Short Circuit.”

The Doctor stiffened. “Don’t call him that! We can’t name him, we’re not keeping him!”

Yaz couldn’t let the preexisting argument distract her. “You never did explain what happened. Are you part feline? Did Short Circuit awaken some cat DNA, somehow?”

“Of course not. Just a crossing of telepathic wires. But I’m fine now.”

“Really.”

“Yes! And I do not purr!” The Doctor crossed her arms. Her shoulders were bunched up around her ears; a sure sign she was about to march out of the room in a huff. Instead, she yawned.

Yaz rubbed her back. “Okay. Do you want to get some more sleep?” She moved to the edge of the bed, leaving plenty of open space. 

The Doctor looked at the pile of soft pillows and bunched up blankets. She blinked, slowly, then yawned again. Flopping back onto the bed, she curled up. “Maybe just a few more minutes.”

That was so unlike her.

Annoyance and worry warred in Yaz’s mind. She needed to get the Doctor to admit there was a problem, here. Whatever it took.

-------

Hours of tossing and turning had rumpled the Doctor’s clothing and lifted her shirt to expose her belly to the room’s warm, stuffy air. Yaz had lost track of the time, trapped in a bubble of comfort laying beside her. This was all very worrying. But it was also kind of nice to relax and not think about saving the universe for a while. 

A little snore escaped the Doctor. She was too tempting, laying there completely relaxed like that, soft skin beckoning Yaz’s fingers.

Yaz inched her hand over and dragged it across the Doctor’s stomach.

The Doctor clamped shut like a trap. She grabbed Yaz’s hand, dug her nails into Yaz’s wrist, and curled her knees up around Yaz’s arm. She lightly closed her teeth over the base of Yaz’s thumb.

Aha! Yaz wanted to say. Tell me this isn’t cat-like behavior.

But the Doctor didn’t wake.

Yaz flopped back onto the mattress and resigned herself to an uncomfortable hour or two with the Doctor curled around her arm.

-------

She was counting the ceiling tiles when the Doctor’s stomach grumbled.

If they were going to be stuck here, Yaz might as well go grab something to eat. She snuck off the bed—she’d learned her lesson about letting the Doctor trap her, after the arm incident—and went to the closest kitchen. 

When she returned, it was with a tray heaped high with a bit of everything she found in the fridge and pantry. “Hey,” she said from the doorway, rousing the Doctor. “Brought some… breakfast, I guess we can call it?” She set the tray down on the bedside table, grabbed a bag of crisps and shook it. “Found some of those beet crisps you like so much.”

The Doctor shot upright. “Oh you’re a lifesaver Yaz, I’m starving!” She sniffed the bag. Scronched. Turned her nose up. 

And caught sight of the tin of sardines Yaz had thrown in with everything else. The Doctor’s eyes dilated. She snatched the tin, peeled the lid back, and devoured the tiny fish in a few gulps.

The Doctor’s culinary habits were strange at the best of times, but that was new. A grin pulled at the corners of Yaz’s mouth. She fought to hide it. Another note for the mental “cat evidence” column.

Once the tin was empty, the Doctor tossed it aside. She searched the tray, opening a tin of something alien that smelled like meat. She inhaled it and turned sad eyes on Yaz. “Do we have any more?”

“There’s an entire tray filled with food here.”

The Doctor whined. 

Oh, this was getting ridiculous. “Doctor… I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you eat fish. You do realize this is weird, right?”

The Doctor tilted her head. “I love fish!”

Yaz couldn’t argue with that, seeing as the Doctor was thousands of years old and she certainly didn’t know everything about her. But her insistence that nothing weird was going on was getting old.

The Doctor whined again. “Yaz, please, I’m not sure I’ve ever been this hungry in all my lives.”

Despite Yaz’s annoyance, she didn’t want the Doctor to starve, so she nodded. “I think there were a few more tins of sardines in the pantry.”

-------

She returned to an empty room. The blankets on the bed were rumpled, but not heaped high enough for the Doctor to be hiding under them. Yaz set the sardines on the bedside table and checked behind the bookshelf. She tapped on the ensuite door, but there was no answer, and the room beyond was dark. 

“Doctor?”

Something shuffled, close to the floor. Where was that coming from? Yaz dropped to her hands and knees and peered under the bed.

Only the Doctor’s socked foot was visible, but she moved again and Yaz could swear she saw a golden-green flash of eyes from the shadow closest to the wall. “Doctor, what are you doing under there?”

A sleepy mumble.

She didn’t look distressed, but that couldn’t be comfortable, could it? “Why don’t you come out? Do you need some help?”

“Don’ wanna,” she mumbled, simultaneously cat and toddler.

Sudden frustration cascading over her, Yaz reached under the bed and grabbed the Doctor by the ankle. “Come on.”

The Doctor hissed, tucked her leg into the rest of her body, and scooted toward the wall. Just out of reach.

Yaz took a deep breath and counted to ten. She’d dealt with this before, and the Doctor had been fine. She’d be fine again, even if this was getting a bit scary. “Will you please come out and talk to me?”

A grunt.

“You have to admit there’s something wrong here.”

“Comfy,” the Doctor mumbled.

At least she was verbal this time. How the hell could Yaz get her out of there? She lay watching the unmoving shadow of the Doctor for several minutes before an idea came to her.

She retrieved a tin of sardines from the bedside table. Kneeling next to the bed, she opened it.

The Doctor stirred.

“Are you hungry? Found more of the good stuff.”

A pause. The Doctor stretched out. She slunk from under the bed, eyes glued to the tin. Yaz moved back a little further, in case she tried to snatch it and disappear again. 

The Doctor stalked toward her. 

Yaz offered her the tin. “Here. Now will you please get back on top of the bed, where I can keep an eye on you?”

The Doctor’s eyes narrowed in confusion, but she nodded as she ate. When she was done, she hopped onto the bed, curled up, and closed her eyes again.

Yaz sighed and sat next to her. Maybe she just needed to wait this out. Hopefully. Because, with the Doctor’s refusal to admit there was even a problem, there wasn’t much else she could do.

-------

Two days later, the Doctor hadn’t done much more than eat and sleep. Yaz had managed to at least coax her into a change of clothes and a walk to stretch her legs, but she’d gone right back to bed and burrowed into her makeshift nest again. She still refused to admit anything was wrong, or answer any of Yaz’s questions about the more cat-like parts of her nature that were emerging.

This couldn’t go on like this.

Yaz returned to her room after a quick run on a treadmill in the gym (her legs were getting stiff with all the lying around) to find the Doctor awake, for once. She intently watched Yaz close the door.

“Went for a run. How are you doing?”

No answer. Yaz had only half expected one. She sat on the edge of the bed and the Doctor continued to wordlessly watch her.

What was this? The fizzling out of their adventures in time and space? Yaz longed to see more, but if she could have only one part of the universe, it would be the Doctor. So if this was how things were now, that was fine. As long as the Doctor was happy.

She reached over and smoothed the Doctor’s hair at her temple. “All right?”

The Doctor closed her eyes. “Yeah. Better now.”

Tentatively, Yaz scratched behind her ear. The Doctor hummed and Yaz dragged her fingers down, to the corner of her jaw. She tilted her chin up and Yaz caressed it with her index finger.

The Doctor began to purr.

She froze, staring wide-eyed at Yaz.

Yaz dropped her hand. “Aha! Gotcha!”

The rumble died. The Doctor pouted. “Yaz,” she whined.

“Told you I was going to get you to do that again. Now will you admit there’s a problem?”

The Doctor blinked. She jerked away and sat up straight. “This is all Short Circuit’s fault.” She jumped out of bed with a hiss, crossed the room, and yanked the door open. “That cat and I are going to have a talk.”

#my fic #prompts #doctor who #thasmin #the return of cat!13!

[twsted-kinks]

I had an intrusive thought: Idia introducing Riddle to hentai

Sndndn idk if it would be on accident or on purpose but I'm leaning accident and its hilarious. Maybe Riddle has to get Idia to come to some dorm leader meeting or event and forces his way into Idia's room to get him ready. While Idia is shoved in his bathroom to change into the right attire, Riddle finds some manga laying around and goes into organization mode. And how is he to organize is he doesn't know what it is? He looks inside to see hard-core hentai and just turns bright red and sputters.

This can go 1 of 2 ways. Either Riddle puts it down before Idia gets out and tries to pretend nothing happened. Or Idia comes out with the hentai in Riddle's hands and they both short-circuit.

#twst smut #answers #twst thots

[junostwistedworld]

Twisted Thanksgiving

It only occurred to me to write this when I woke up, so it may be short and a mess, but I wanted to get it out while it was still Thanksgiving. And if someone reading this isn't from the U.S.... well- sorry for the confusion.

NOTE: I guess this would be read as them in our world? No warnings or anything really, just fluff/crack.

♤♡---◇♧

Trey and Epel are the ones mostly in charge of cooking. Trey for obvious reasons, and Epel because I'm sure he could make some amazing apple desserts to go with the turkey. Ruggie even pops in to help some, he knows his way around a kitchen... and it doesn't hurt to get a bite or two before the food reaches the table either.

Sebek and Silver are in charge of guarding the kitchen: Lilia isn't allowed within ten feet of any food, and Trey doesn't care if they have to beat him with brooms, just keep him OUT of the kitchen! Everyone will thank them in the long run.

Ortho forced Idia to come out of his room for the 'festivities'... It isn't as horrible as he imagined, he's parked on the couch with a card table set up and a stack of board games to do while the Macy's Day Parade runs on just about every tv in the house. Azul is playing with him, of course, but some of the others jump in on it even (Ace tries to cheat at cards and still loses)- Leona gets up long enough to play a game of chess... Idia loses. Leona freaked him out.

Vil is probably nitpicking how unhealthy the food is and counting calories in his head- Rook drags him away to watch the parade. After all, it would be a shame to miss the performances between floats! Congratulations, Epel, Vil won't be breathing down your neck for the next few hours.

Speaking of Rook, he's probably the one who shot the turkey. Who needs to buy one when you can get your own?

I know Floyd isn't one to sit still or be easily entertained, but I could see him (and Jade and Azul) being fascinated by the parade. Simply because it's all different floats, music, and shows passing through. It might not entertain him the entire time, but you have a good hour- maybe two- of him content.

Cater is taking pictures of everything- the food, the games, the decorations, all of it is going on his Magicam. Once he's done that though... I can see him getting a jumpstart on the Christmas decorations. Who doesn't enjoy stringing up the lights and digging through ornaments? Well, plenty of people don't- he's not one of them though.

Poor Riddle is probably short-circuiting right now, his mother would never approve of this. They must be breaking a dozen or so rules, there isn't any order at all- someone give him a cup of tea and a puzzle or something, quick.

♤♡---◇♧

I probably could've thought it out better, but it never even occurred to me until I was helping my Mom and Nan get the chicken ready (we're not fond of turkey). Anyway, happy Thanksgiving to anyone who reads this, I hope you have a happy holiday!

Masterlist

#twst #twisted wonderland #trey clover #epel felmier #twst silver #sebek zigvolt #lilia vanrouge #vil schoenheit #rook hunt #idia shroud #azul ashengrotto #floyd leech #cater diamond #riddle rosehearts #happy thanksgiving #junostwistedworld

[astra-galaxie]

Slade Masters

Biographical information

Full Name: Slade Masters

Alias(es): Deathstar

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Gay

Status: Deceased

Age: 73 (season 3)

Birth: 1943

Race: Human

Cause of Death: Shot five times - lungs, throat, head, and heart

Nationality: American

Origin: Nevada, USA

Residence:

Botswana, Africa

Nevada, USA (formerly)

Profession(s):

Mercenary

Hunting Instructor

Past profession(s): G.I.A. Agent

Affiliation(s):

SOMBRA

Moremi Game Reserve

G.I.A. (formerly)

Profile

Height: 6'0" Age: 73 (season 3) Weight: 240lbs Eyes: blue Blood: AB+

Hailing from Nevada, USA, Slade was a mercenary in his early seventies and was tall with a fit physique. He had blue eyes, short white hair on the sides, with the top half longer and combed to the right, and his tanned skin was riddled with scars and wrinkles. Slade wore light brown khaki shorts, a white t-shirt under a light-brown vest, dark brown hiking boots, and work gloves.

Synopsis

Slade was the victim of Star of Death.

He was an ex-G.I.A. Agent who left the agency when his secret mercenary life was discovered. He had secretly begun his illegal work in his late twenties after he started accepting bribes from criminals to "look the other way." His work quickly evolved, and soon he agreed to do dangerous missions for the galaxy's most wanted criminals.

One of these missions was from the Curator. Slade was hired to collect and return the Curator's prized hybrid, Goldie. Slade knew the mission would result in his double life being revealed, but he was tired of pretending to be the good guy and was ready to embrace his criminal life.

After successfully capturing Goldie and delivering it to the Curator, Slade joined the criminal underworld. He travelled the galaxy, causing mayhem wherever he went. He would do anything for the right price, from stealing to killing. He became renowned and feared for his work and relished in the spotlight.

But then the G.I.A. took down the illegal hybrid fighting circuit. And with the Curator going into hiding, Slade needed to become more careful, or in his case, paranoid. He evaded his ex-agency for decades, but as jobs became more scarce, he realized he couldn't run forever.

And so, Slade went to the one place he knew the G.I.A. would never think to look for him, Earth. He hid in plain sight and became a hunting instructor in Botswana under the disguise of being ex-military. But hunting animals for sport could not satisfy his bloodlust.

One day, Salde was approached by a member of an organization known as SOMBRA. The person told Slade of SOMBRA's mission to rid the world of the weak so that the strong would rule, and Slade saw this as the perfect opportunity to create a place where he would be revered for his work. He accepted the job offer and immediately began receiving orders for missions to carry out on SOMBRA's behalf.

Slade's most challenging mission for SOMBRA was to capture Bureau agent Fili Savage. According to SOMBRA's mole, Fili contained the secret to the original enhancement formula inside his DNA. With that formula, SOMBRA would be able to create an army of super soldiers who would help bring about the new age of humanity. Slade was surprised to learn that Fili was married to the hybrid Goldie, but he would enjoy torturing the hybrid by taking away its mate.

Capturing Fili was difficult as Slade didn't know what kind of species the blond was a defendant of, but he had fought enough plant-based aliens to know how to defeat the nature attacks. He took great satisfaction in beating Fili and took him to SOMBRA's secret island, where Metcalf could perform his tests and experiments.

Slade stayed on the island to assist in controlling Fili (now named Hemlock). He would punish the soldier when he misbehaved or when Hemlock needed a reminder of who he belonged to. He found the younger man's screams soothing and loved the little whimpers Hemlock made. All he needed was Goldie to torture beside its mate, and Slade would be a happy man.

When Salde learned that the Bureau had succeeded in saving Hemlock, he was pissed. He told Metcalf that sending Hemlock after the Bureau was a stupid idea, but the blue man hadn't listened to him! And now that Hemlock was under the protection of the Bureau and U.N.I.T, SOMBRA would never be able to get their hands on their soldier any time soon.

And so, Slade took on other missions for SOMBRA. While away on a mission, he would learn of Metcalf's death and the destruction of SOMBRA island. Slade wasn't surprised that Metcalf got himself killed, but he grew angrier at the Bureau for the loss of the island. He vowed to help the mole take them down from the inside and began plotting ways to take out Goldie.

Permanently.

But Salde would never get to see his plans get put into action. The G.I.A. discovered his presence on Earth, and he was executed while having his morning coffee. He had just milliseconds to feel a hand ripping his force field generator from his heart and caught sight of golden eyes shining in the morning light as the five bullets hit their targets.

Slade never saw the bullets coming, and he died before his body hit the ground.

Organization(s)

G.I.A. (formerly)

Rank: Agent

Story Information

First appeared: Star of Death

Trivia

His name is a combination of two characters: Slade Wilson (DC) and Vlad Masters (Danny Phantom)

His obsession with the word Jericho was inspired by Slade Wilson's son Joseph Wilson a.k.a. Jericho

He had a special device implanted in his heart after leaving the G.I.A. The device created a force field around his organs to protect them from harm

His alias and the title of the case he appeared in are a reference to the Death Star from Star Wars

He was Vuk's mentor

He enjoyed betting on illegal hybrid fights and visiting intergalactic brothels

Disclaimer: Character design was created using Rinmarugames Mega Anime Avatar Creator! I have only made minor edits to the design! Background courtesy of CriminalArtist5

Links to my stories:

The Case of the Criminal (Ao3/Wattpad) Killer Bay (Ao3/Wattpad) Where in the World are the Killers? (Ao3/Wattpad)

#criminal case #astra's ocs #my ocs #criminal case save the world

[gimme-a-thrust]

Single Character Headcanon Masterlist - Robot OCs

ROBOFIZZES:

Ozzie has four RoboFizzes, three prototypes and the first one off the line that was finalized. They mostly live in a large room off of his bedroom where he keeps all of his sex toys, and they keep their charging stations in there. They are allowed to roam the house but mostly stay in the bedroom when nobody is home.

For the most part, they are all followers, but they will happily talk over the rest just as much as they join together in saying the same things. Usually, they are all in agreement about things, and it is not uncommon to hear them all say ‘yeaaaaaaaaah’ together. They can all be very sweet, if not devious and ready to get into trouble at all times. All four of them tend to be in unison a lot of the time, even if they can and will separate into two teams if they don’t agree; Ribbit and Lilypad, and Fifi and Ziggy.

All four of them are very touchy, handsy, and excited all of the time. They will always be ready for sex or an adventure, and tend to get up to hijinks. Their ‘horny’ settings can be changed but for the most part Ozzie leaves them set on ‘extreme’ for his own personal use. While he won’t abandon Fizzarolli for them, the harembots (as they are called) will sometimes join in with them. They have a good relationship with both Ozzie and Fizzarolli.

They all have fully functioning genitalia (with a type of lube to use as ‘cum’), and can hide them in hatches in their stomach. They typically do this when out and about in the house, though they aren’t against showing off when they want something.

ZEEZEE/ZIGGY (ZZA)

The eldest of the prototypes, known for the yelllow stripe where his nose would be, and the yellow fixtures he was given in place of the usual color scheme.

He has a faulty battery and must be charged more often than the others.

He short circuits in wet situations and has some rubber optional attachments if he is to get wet. While he isn’t entirely faulty, he has enough issues that Ozzie is more intensely protective of him.

Ziggy was the first prototype that wasn’t riddled with fatal errors that Ozzie couldn’t fix. He still has his issues, but they are at least maintainable and Ozzie intends on keeping him alive well after Fizzarolli’s inevitable death. While he will deny the implications of sentimentality, he feels like keeping the harembots alive means he can keep Fizzarolli with him.

He believes he should be able to eat pizza, and Ozzie has been trying to figure out how to give the robots a sense of taste. Ziggy is the hardest one to figure out, due to his age and parts have upgraded since his conception.

Unlike the other bots, he is fine taking the blame for the hijinks they get up to. He knows that Ozzie won’t be too mad at them if it’s him that is the culprit, though Ozzie often suspects that Ziggy isn’t the mastermind.

Deep down, he loves his ‘siblings,’ though they sometimes butt heads.

He is closest with Fifi, and they tend to do things together, particularly sexually. They have a tendency to misbehave together instead of with the others if they’re allowed time with Ozzie or Fizzarolli alone.

He really likes Nikiva and thinks that she is very pretty. He wouldn’t call it a crush, but he definitely tries to take care of her when she is there.

For the most part, he is the one that goes to the room upstairs from their room to rest if he is having a hard time getting into his charging station. It is made as a guest room for the other Sins, but if nobody is using it the harembots will steal the bed together.

They are all a cohesive unit even if they fight sometimes, and he couldn’t ask for better brothers.

FIGARO/FIFI (FI)

The second prototype, known for the red stripe where his nose would be, and the red fixtures he was given in place of the usual color scheme.

He is the most airheaded of the group, and has a habit of absentmindedly disclosing their plans to those that don’t need to know. He rarely has a single braincell of his own and is a follower 99% of the time.

His processor is the most faulty of the four, and it takes him longer to process things. However, this doesn’t seem to affect him during sex, because for the most part he can keep up with his partner’s needs during the act.

Out of all of the harembots, he is the most likely to cuddle when the deed is done, or even just in general. He is very needy and Ozzie considered it something of a defect, though that isn’t necessarily true for most.

Being the second prototype that didn’t have a fatal problem, he was the second one to be kept.

Figaro is his ‘given name,’ but he answers more to Fifi, as it’s simpler. He has a harder time remembering what his name is than the others.

If he has a question about things, he tends to ask Ribbit over Lily, because he believes that Ribbit lies less and is still WiFi compatible.

He is closest with Ziggy, as they are both older models, and he looks up to him very highly. When Ziggy is wrong about something, he is insanely shocked and has a habit of going quiet while he tries to process it.

It isn’t hard to trick him, and he is very gullible. For an entire week, he was convinced that nematodes and horny toads were actual toads, because it was Ribbit that told him as much.

Fifi got his other name, Figaro, because he actually has a very nice singing voice. Ozzie had been experimenting with giving a RoboFizz different pitches that he could reach for the singing aspect of Mammon’s copy, though it didn’t make it into the final design in the same way that Figaro has it.

He has a love for demon cats that can get him in trouble, because he will wander if he sees out outside and will browse cat videos/images if allowed a computer/phone.

LILYPAD/LILY (LI)

“Purple”, known for the purple stripe where his nose would be, and the purple fixtures he was given in place of the usual color scheme.

He was given the Li in Fizzarolli, and decided to choose a new name like his best friend Ribbit did. He is the newest of the prototypes, the very last one to be made before everything was finalized.

Fizzarolli, Ozzie, and Lily all thought that he would hate Ribbit when Ozzie brought him home, but they became incredibly close incredibly quickly.

Lilypad is very fascinated by wildlife and likes to learn. He is the only prototype that has WiFi capabilities, and his endless knowledge can sometimes make the older models snappy with him.

Lily is most likely to side with Ribbit if the RoboFizzes get into a fight, though he has been known to call Ribbit on his bullshit. That doesn’t mean that he also hasn’t defended him with his whole chest, even if he knew he was wrong.

While all of the RoboFizzes are followers in their own right, Lilypad is the most devious and arguably the smartest. He is the one most likely to get them in trouble, as he can and will come up with plans on his own. Ribbit will always help him see them through, and if Fifi and Ziggy won’t help, they at least love to watch the fireworks.

Lilypad likes Mammon and Brick as much as the next fuckbot, but they aren’t his main goal. Much like Fizzarolli, he has a major size kink, and prefers sex with Ozzie (and Olli) more than outside sources. This doesn’t mean he won’t take what he can get, however.

All of them are really touchy feely, but Lilypad’s sensors short and vibrate when he doesn’t fulfill his sensory needs. He has a tendency to use his hands, wrap his arms and legs around things/people, and rub his face into things as though he was scenting them like a cat. When nobody else is available, he will rub on soft things or Ribbit, whichever is more available.

He has nothing against his fellow prototypes, but feels as though they don’t like him much since he’s such a newer model. The RoboFizz prototypes between him and Fifi kept having fatal errors, whereas he did not.

RIBBIT (RO)

“Green”, known for the green stripe where his nose would be, and the green fixtures he was given in place of the usual color scheme. Ribbit’s “Birthday” is February 14th!

Since he was given the ‘Ro’ in Fizzarolli, Ozzie thought it was stupid that he was the Ro Bot, so they endeavored to find him a new name. Ribbit was the first of the Fizzbots to receive an actual name.

He was also the first and remains the only RoboFizz that isn’t a prototype that Ozzie kept. He was the first off the line of the finalized versions, though he was made with Ozzie’s specifications.

He is closest with Lily and would consider him his best friend. If nobody else is available to them, they will fuck each other more often than not.

While it isn’t really an obsession, he definitely has a preoccupation with Mammon and getting him to submit. He and Lily make a point to try and make the best of any opportunity in which he’ll let them service him. Mammon is their favorite of the royalty that come to see Ozzie.

Ribbit, in a bid to annoy Brick mostly, has downloaded an array of Earthly frog sounds and will use them in place of his usual speaking software when Brick needs a straight answer out of him. Brick has threatened to break him over it, though he never would. He refers to Ribbit as ‘Bitch,’ and Ribbit always calls him ‘Butch’ or ‘Titties.’ He has something of a crush on Brick.

If Lily wants to do something, he will always join him. He has his BFF’s back at all times for any reason.

Out of the harembots, he has the most empathy for Fizzarolli and is willing to be there for him if he needs someone to listen. He is also the funniest out of the group, as his humor is developed the best out of all of them. Lily is the next best in comparison.

He has a tendency to hold hands with Lilypad more times than not, no matter the situation. They are also the reason that the charging stations are no longer pods, but made to resemble actual beds.

He is fully waterproofed, and capable of anything that Fizzarolli is capable of, short of having full free will and the capability to think. All of the Harembots, however, have as close to full autonomy as he could get.

ROLLI

Rolli is the only RoboFizz that Ozzie has that doesn’t have a sex drive at all.

He was repurposed after a crazed Fizzarolli fan jailbroke him and he went to Ozzie for repairs. He no longer believes he is the real Fizzarolli.

His programming is strictly wired to be Fizzarolli when he was young, cute, sweet, and charming. He gets to have the happy, privileged childhood that Fizzarolli didn’t get to have.

He looks up to Rozzie very much, and enjoys playing with TQ, Impen, and Taffy. Sex-C and Fizzy typically bully him, though Fizzy gets better as he ages. Sex-C eventually learns to put up with him without vitriol or violence.

Ozzie wanted another baby after the triplets became teenagers and was brooding again. He ended up fixing up Rolli so he could have a baby that didn’t grow old. Rolli gets brooded from time to time, especially when Ozzie is struggling emotionally.

He believes he is an actual child, though a run-in with Sex-C had him asking to have a day wiped from his memory banks so he didn’t have to deal with it. Ozzie doesn’t know if he still remembers he’s a robot or not.

Rolli has a few of the ugliest ponies Olli or Ozzie have ever seen. Rolli’s first stallion is named Scissorqueen.

OTHER ROBOFIZZES:

These RoboFizzes are not owned by Ozzie, but by other Sins. He has typically given them to them free of charge, or let them purchase them of their own accord.

CHUNK

Chunk is owned by Beelze and Baal. His color is orange, and it is the color of his eyes, pauldrons, and the theme for his outfit.

He was made to be able to eat with the twins, and is happy to feed and be fed. He has been outfitted so that he can have a little tummy bulge for them, and they love it very much.

Inside his stomach he has a food processor so that he can make smoothies out of what he eats for them. They can drink it out of him from several places, or empty it into cups if they so choose. They rarely do, and often drink it from his nipples or dick.

He participates in eating them, as well, and is the only being other than each other that can eat of their bodies. He also enjoys Baal’s ooze and Beelze’s honey.

Always cheerful and ready to help, he is very affable to almost anything and anyone. However, his robotic heart belongs to the twins, and other than Ozzie, he will not screw around on them. He will join in when the twins and Ozzie fuck.

He gets along well with other RoboFizzes, and is happy to have regular maintenance. He has a lifetime warranty and free regular upkeep thanks to Ozzie.

REDD

Redd originally belonged to Leviathan, and was fitted with sea green augmentation. However, he was repossessed for mistreatment and refitted with a red, white, and black theme.

After the rough patch with Athan, Ozzie was considering keeping him when Lucifer offered to take him home. He and Lilith love having him around.

His name has to D’s for Red Delicious, since they are some of Lucifer’s favorite apples.

Lilith has sewn his new clothes and pauldron covers herself. Ozzie later offered to refit his design to match the apple theme for them at no cost to them.

He is happy that they care so much for him, as he was worried for the robot after Athan hurt him so badly.

Redd was traumatized due to Athan breaking his code, turning his horniness level down to the lowest setting, and also changing things about his body that had to be undone. All of it was incredibly illegal and against the contract of owning a RoboFizz, and Ozzie was very upset by the changes. He and Paimon ended up exacting revenge on Athan for this egregious breech in contract.

OZZBOTS

The Ozzbots were made after an attempt on Fizzarolli’s life by Leviathan. Originally, Lucifer suggested this, though Paimon brought up the reasons why it was a bad idea. Fizzarolli and Ozzie ended up keeping the two that Ozzie made, and he later made Rozzie to be friends with Rolli.

OREN

Oren was the first Ozzbot that Ozzie designed, and is incredibly lifelike. He likes spending time with the RoboFizzes and Fizzarolli a lot.

He doesn’t really know what to do with the kids but he does try to be kind to them.

Oren and Otto both are very fond of double teaming Ozzie for the Fizzarolli Five to watch, and the six robots join in with their living counterparts fairly often. If they can’t, they will fuck each other.

Oren is a good cook and will take over if Ozzie is otherwise busy.

He likes sharks, especially Goblin Sharks, and wants to fill a pool with them. Ozzie has decided he can’t have them.

He crawls better than Otto does, and gets into the smaller rooms in the basement a lot easier.

He is very protective of Fizzarolli and, ironically, dislikes Leviathan very much. He was the Ozzbot made for him originally.

OTTO

Otto was made when Fizzarolli expressed a keen interest in having another Ozzie around. 

Otto is very friendly with the kids and neighbors and enjoys spreading joy and good vibes.

This doesn’t mean that he doesn’t also spread his legs from time to time. 

He is very fond of Ribbit and Lilypad, and is often seen with the two of them during their shenanigans.

He, too, is very protective of the family and has a tendency to go from zero to sixty very quickly. Being a 14 foot tall robo-demon usually helps him in a fight.

ROZZIE

Rozzie was made as a playmate for Roll six years after Impen was born.

Much like Rolli, he has no interest in sex.

He is actually rather shy and awkward and loves robotics and creating things. He loves to work with his hands.

Because Ozzie was an angel when he was twelve, he is very angelic and sweet. This means he is also incredibly innocent and Ozzie is actually embarrassed for him.

He tends to dress like a proper prince and doesn’t often bare much of his fur/feathers.

Because he is angelic, his colors are more pastel than the robots based on demons. 

He does the ‘yeaaaaah, nooooo.’ thing on occasion.

He enjoys robotics engineering and tinkering with things. He learns to love video games.

#OC Hub #Robot OCs #Helluva Boss OCs #Helluva Boss Robot OCs #Helluva Boss RoboFizz OCs

[merakiui]

I stumbled upon your Ruggie fic where he accidentally knocked up MC and I was like "oh my god that's a banger." Then I scrolled to your tags and I short-circuited.

AS A RIDDLE STAN??? YOU'RE SO BIG BRAINED??? LIKE ok yeah with him being the perfect kid and all and his mom I always wondered (a perfectly healthy and normal amount) what would happen if he got MC pregnant?

That Ruggie fic was so real!! So well done!! If you don't mind, could you elaborate what you think would happen with Riddle? You don't have to write a whole fic or anything! Just briefly share your thoughts with the class (me) if you would be so kind please!! 🤓

Frothing at the mouth,

Riddlelover69

Hello, Riddlelover69!!! Allow me to share the thoughts. >:D

(cw: brief nsfw, female reader, accidental pregnancy, mentions of alcohol/intoxication, riddle's mother, fwb dynamic, mentions of abortion)

Riddle is floored when you break the news to him. He's in so much disbelief even after you've provided him with physical evidence (the pregnancy test). He insists you take another one just to be sure because he's so certain that you can't possibly be pregnant. He has always been so careful and responsible when the two of you were intimate; he made sure to wear protection each time and he never did anything reckless. But then the second test comes back positive and he's absolutely stunned. Where did he go wrong? How did this happen? He's never been careless. This must be a mistake!

Riddle lives in denial for three days before it occurs to him. Weeks prior to this discovery, the both of you were attending a stargazing party Cater had thrown in the Heartslabyul rose maze. He'd practically begged Riddle to let him host it. Apparently it was going to be "super cammable" and a "perfect opportunity for lots of stupid fun." Riddle should have known his angle when he slipped vodka into the fruit punch Trey made, and he should have realized the wine Cater had been discreetly serving everyone. "Stupid fun" must have meant stupid drunk. Where he even got the alcohol from was beyond Riddle. He had intended to scold him; he was ready to sever his head for breaking so many rules. But then you were passing a glass into his hand and he knew it would be wrong and inappropriate for him to drink when he was meant to be the upstanding, always obedient Housewarden.

You were smiling, nudging him playfully, saying something teasing. The two of you are close friends (fuck buddies, according to Cater), not lovers, and Riddle really shouldn't have entertained your blatant rule-breaking. But lately he's wanted to impress you; he wanted to show you that he can be cool—that he's not always so stiff and formal and boring. Great Seven, he nearly died from the shame when you had jokingly said that to him. He doesn't want to be boring. He wants to be fun and not so awkward all the time. He wants to branch out and have a lot of friends. He wants to be effortlessly relaxed like you.

He's not, but with the music swelling in time with his heart and your own melodious laughter in his ears he could delude himself into thinking so. And foolishly Riddle broke his own moral compass, NRC's rules, Heartslabyul's rules, and even the unspoken rules put in place by his mother. And for one night you thought he was cool and so did he. And for one night he was not boring. For one night he could kiss you silly without worrying about perfecting the technique or the placement of his hands on your hips or what to do about his reputation should anyone find out (not that it mattered to you, but it meant the world to him).

One night, under an inky canvas of stars (they looked more like chips of glass to Riddle, but then his mind was foggy and his senses were all tangled and he was so obviously intoxicated, but that didn't matter; ironically enough, he was having fun breaking rules with you), he did away with formality and fucked you raw in a shadowed corner of the rose maze, far enough from any prying eyes but close enough where you could still hear the music, feel the thrum of it between the both of you.

And now, weeks later, the result of such a reckless night rears its ugly head. And oh is it ugly. He's not sure what he should do. For once in his perfect, well-tailored life, he is completely lost. He tries not to panic—tries to act like everything's normal, but he has never been a particularly convincing actor and it doesn't take long for those close to him to suspect he's stressed. How you can be so calm about all of this is beyond him. You're pregnant! Aren't you worried what everyone will say and think? Aren't you even a little concerned for your future? His schedules are already complicated and cramped enough. Fitting a child in there is impossible!

And beyond all of that, past NRC's gates and all the way in the Queendom of Roses, his mother waits. He absolutely can't tell her. It's one thing to devote oneself to a no-strings-attached relationship (she would definitely disapprove of you); it's another to impregnate said friend with benefits, especially when he isn't even finished with school yet or married. He's meant to be perfect (he's not; no one is), but how can he look and be perfect if this is hanging over his head like a guillotine's blade?

His mother will definitely disown him. He can already hear her shrill screams. She'd probably say something like, "If you have the time to fool around, then you can spend that time acting like one." She wouldn't offer any support or comfort. It would just be harsh and cruel scoldings. She wouldn't acknowledge him or you. It would be so easy for her to snip him out of her life as if he was nothing more than a paper person on a chain of paper people, entirely useless and flimsy in her eyes. A failure—that's what he would be. She couldn't boast about him to friends and coworkers. Not after this.

You have to get rid of it. He tells you this a week later when the both of you are cooped up in his room to discuss the issue at hand. Riddle has never truly argued with you, but the both of you are going back and forth over what to do with the baby and his temper is rising. For some reason you want to keep it. He's so stressed and panicked and livid. No, you're not keeping it! He tells you to stop calling the baby a "them" because it's an "it" and that's all it will ever be. You look genuinely hurt when he says that, and his chest is heaving wildly as he catches his breath, throat raw from yelling.

He...went too far. He shouldn't have said that, and even when he sees the tears in your eyes he knows right away that he's doing everything completely wrong. And you admit in a hushed, broken voice that you're scared, too. That you feel so horrible for being reckless. That you know this isn't ideal. And it occurs to Riddle then that you have never been the calm and collected person he's often admired. You are just as frenzied as him.

He exhales a slow, exhausted breath, allowing his shoulders to deflate. He apologizes for raising his voice, for saying those terrible things, for panicking. He can give you time. It's your body; you're the one carrying the baby. Naturally he thinks it should be your choice, even if he's adamant that you get rid of the baby, but Riddle hates to see you so distraught. Arguably, he hates that more than he hates this situation. And he likes you. It's always lingered in a crevice of his mind, a romantic attraction that was getting harder to snuff the longer he stayed with you, the more he got to know you, the more he allowed himself to open up to you.

He walks you back to Ramshackle Dorm. It's the polite thing to do, and the both of you are silent during the walk. He bids you a stiff, boring, hollow farewell. It's more than fleeting admiration, Riddle muses as he turns on his heel and begins the trek back to the Hall of Mirrors. But regrettably he finds himself shying away from you in the following weeks, too frightened to touch you. He can't. He doesn't want to, and he thinks it's because this mistake is too life-altering for him to confront.

He broaches the subject to Trey some time later with a vague, yet extremely convoluted hypothetical: "If you did something wrong and another person was affected by it and the both of you were left with a difficult decision, would you let the other person make the final choice?" Trey considers it, always so level-headed and logical. He asks what this difficult decision entails. Riddle chews his lip, peers into his teacup, and mutters something about life and death and embryos and the science behind reproduction and how long it takes for something to be considered human—to be considered conscious and alive—and what one should do when contemplating such a thing and...he's rambling.

Trey gives him that look—that hardened stare that pierces his soul and seems to know of every secret he's kept buried (Cater calls it the "dad stare"—whatever that means). He knows. Riddle is a poor liar. Trey doesn't say it, but when he asks, "Who?" Riddle knows what the question means. He wrings his hands under the table, clasping and unclasping them. They're shaking; he's on the verge of tears. He whispers your name.

Trey lets the admission settle like sediment on the sea floor. He nods, hums, stirs the batter for the cake he's currently baking, and then hums some more. "I can't give you an answer," he eventually says, offering a sympathetic frown. "Sorry." He tries to say more, but nothing comes out and instead he returns to whisking, allowing the silence to console Riddle instead. It doesn't work as intended.

Riddle holds his head in his hands, elbows propped on the marble surface of the island. In the Heartslabyul kitchen, where everything smells so sugary sweet, he cries. He's never felt more lost.

Riddle can't avoid you forever. That same day he approaches you and tells you that if you're so determined to keep the baby you will have to convince him. Whether that's by powerpoint or bribery (at this point he's desperate to adopt your views, so please, by all means, bribe him with sweets and let him drown in sugar so that he can ignore the looming threat of his mother back home), he's willing to hear you out. It's only fair, and if the two of you can reach a decision (preferably as soon as possible) he can start planning ahead. You're not sure how you should go about convincing him, so in the meantime Riddle resolves to read up on pregnancy, if only to further educate himself.

He scours the library for information and finds Lilia who is, arguably, as ancient as some of these textbooks and might be a reliable source of information. Riddle doesn't intend to tell him anything, but when Lilia offers to aid him in what he notes looks like a "very important search" Riddle submits.

It doesn't take Lilia long to put a few clues together when Riddle tells him he's looking for books about child care and pregnancy. It also doesn't take him long to theorize who might be carrying a child. For some reason Riddle feels ashamed as he quietly admits the truth, thus confirming all of Lilia's suspicions. Somehow telling Lilia this feels like telling a parent or an adult or some authority figure; he expects a scolding. Instead Lilia smiles warmly and tells Riddle that children are like miracles: sometimes you can plan for them and other times you cannot, but what's most miraculous is the bond forged between those who raise a child. They are tough work and you might encounter many troubles and doubts along the way. But if you can look for happiness in miraculous, magical mistakes, you will find love. Riddle stares at him, dumbfounded. Is Lilia really just a third year?

The first time you try to convince him is with a poorly assembled slideshow displaying the benefits of keeping the child. "Think of the cute clothes we can get!" you say, to which Riddle responds with, "Think of the expenses, (Name)." You are not one to give up, puffing your cheeks out at him. He rolls his eyes, but he sits up straight and continues to listen, watching as you click through images of firsts. First loose tooth. First day of school. First drawing. First handprint and footprint. First word. First laugh. The list is endless, apparently, and so is Riddle's sanity as he endures it. But he's smiling as he watches your wild gesticulations.

The second time you try to convince him is just as bad, if not worse, than the first time. "Riddle me this, Riddle," you say while he's in the middle of studying. He does not want to riddle you anything, but he listens anyway. He always does. "You plus me equals..."

"That is not a riddle. That's an equation," he corrects, not yet taking his eyes off the page. "And it equals trouble. Nothing good."

You're silent for too long, so finally he turns to look at you. Your eyes are glued to your phone. Riddle furrows his brow. Did he say something wrong? Was he too mean?

"All right, I got it! Riddle me this. One plus one equals three."

"Again, another equation."

"Not true! This article says it's a pregnancy riddle, not an equation."

"Did you...look up riddles?"

"Pregnancy riddles, yes. They're not really good."

Riddle scrubs at his face, suddenly weary. "Three is too big a number."

"Maybe for you, but not for me."

There should only be two, he thinks. You and me. But even that is a troublesome combination.

The third time you try to convince him is with a box of mini tarts, all in various flavors. He peers at them and then at you. You're rocking back and forth on your heels, eagerly awaiting his reaction. When he doesn't immediately give one, you groan and sink into the chair beside him. "Can I please keep the baby?"

Riddle snorts through a laugh and then clears his throat, neutralizes his amused expression, and says, "Resorting to begging already? And you were so confident last week."

You huff and slouch in your seat. He intends to correct you, but then you're stuffing a tart in his mouth. "I would look cute pregnant, wouldn't I?" you ask, batting your eyelashes and catching him so off guard he chokes on his bite of tart. Riddle sputters, his face the color of roses, and stands from his chair, promptly excusing himself.

You are a nuisance, but he agrees. You would look very cute.

The fourth time you try to convince him is with the help of Trey. "Trey can make the sweets for the baby shower," you say. Your grip on Trey's forearm suggests he is not a willing participant in...whatever this is, but it has Riddle quirking a fond smile.

He folds his arms across his chest and glances between you and Trey, his next words addressing the latter. "You would do that?"

Trey grins boyishly and responds with, "If I had to."

You tut at him. "Trey, we rehearsed this. You're supposed to say, 'I'll make a strawberry tart so big it'll need to sit on two tables.'"

Riddle's laughter surprises both you and Trey, and as he wipes an invisible tear from his eye, he says with a playful smirk, "I'll hold you to it when the time comes, Trey."

As he makes his graceful departure, he hears your disbelieving exclamation: "Do you think it worked?!"

The fifth time you try to convince Riddle is in the bedroom. You're lying on your side, peering at him with a silly, sex-drunk smile. "What if we got married?"

"We have to," he mumbles absentmindedly, his mind replaying the past few minutes in a loop. He wonders if he was too rough. He doesn't want to hurt the baby... What is he thinking? There's still time to get rid of it. It doesn't matter if he was rough (it does; he's worrying).

"Really?" Your eyes are blown wide. "You'd actually marry me?"

Riddle gazes at you, collecting context clues to comprehend your angle. "I should be asking you that question."

"Why? I would marry you, not your mother."

"You might as well be, though," he mutters bitterly, glaring at the canopy that envelops his bed. "I'm aware she is not an ideal in-law."

"Then we'll run away. You, me, and Baby Riddle."

"That is a horrible name." He peers at you, his features softening. "We're not calling the baby Baby Riddle."

"Why not? It's cute."

"Hardly." His gaze travels to your stomach. Soon you'll show and when you're round enough it'll be impossible to hide this secret. "Well... Humor me. Where would we go if we ran away?"

"Anywhere you'd like." He opens his mouth to stop your wild imagination, but you beat him to it. "'Think of the expenses, (Name)!' Just hear me out. Anywhere could mean anywhere, but it could also mean nowhere. And maybe nowhere is our anywhere."

Riddle chuckles. "You sound just like Che'nya."

"Do you think he knows?"

"Possibly."

"Really?"

"He's anywhere and nowhere."

"Cheeky..." You shuffle closer to him, pressing your forehead against his. "So cheeky."

Riddle wants to say it. He wants to empty his heart right here, right now. He loves you and, though it took some time to warm up to the idea, he wants to start a family with you. He wants to be more than friends. He wants to marry you and experience all of your child's firsts alongside you. It doesn't matter if his mother disapproves because this is arguably the best mistake he's made in a while. A miraculous, magical mistake.

Before you can swallow the words in a kiss, he blurts them hastily. "I... I love you." But there's more, and perhaps he's confined himself in a misleading dream when reality and encroaching worries melt away. But he needs to tell you. "And I... I really want to be a father. A-And I want you to be a mother! I don't care about what others will say anymore. Admittedly, it was...fun to misbehave with you that night. It certainly wasn't responsible, but I enjoyed it. Far more than I should have." That last part is murmured, but you catch it. Riddle finds your hands under the covers and squeezes them. "You've convinced me. I'd like to start a family with you."

You smile and then tears are spilling and then you're smiling again. He knows he's crying because his eyes are wet and glassy, and for a while the two of you cling to each other, sobbing about everything and nothing, laughing through blubbery cries.

And Riddle realizes three isn't a big number. Rather, it's a pleasant number. Not perfect because nothing truly is, but it's more than enough for him. And that's really all that matters right now.

#twisted chit chat #tw: pregnancy

[moonstruckbucky]

The Recruit (5/?)

Summary: Becoming a SHIELD agent had been your dream and finally, you’ve achieved it. You’re at the top of your class in every field except one—hand to hand combat, and it doesn’t impress Captain Rogers in the slightest. Instead, it seems to convince him you’re useless, setting off a tense relationship between the two of you. In an effort to bridge the gap, Bucky offers to help you train to earn your way back into Steve’s good graces. What could possibly go wrong?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader x Bucky Barnes (not Stucky)

Warnings: Probably some incorrect fight-speak.

Notes: Yikes, I’m sorry for the wait on this. The holidays thoroughly kicked by ass, but now that they’re over, I should be back to regularly updating! Enjoy. x

Series Masterlist //  Main Masterlist

Training begins the day the cast comes off your wrist. An exact two weeks later, and Bucky’s pounding on your door at four AM, hair tied back and biceps - both flesh and gleaming black metal - on full display in his compression tank. Coupled with your sleepiness and just how unfairly attractive he is, your brain short-circuits for a minute when you first open the door.

“Up and at ‘em,” he orders, every bit the Sergeant you’d read about.

“Huh?” you reply dumbly, wiping the sleep from your eyes.

“Time for training, rookie.” The gleam in his eye lets you know he’s teasing, but still his face remains stoic. You glance over your shoulder.

“Bucky, it’s four AM.” Your voice is a little rough, still riddled by sleep, but Bucky pays it no mind.

“You wanted me to train you, so I am.” He pushes into your room, tamps down a flush at being in your personal space, and waits with his hands behind his back.

You stare for a few moments, realize he isn’t going anywhere, so you sigh, scuttle slowly to your dresser to pull out a sports bra, some leggings and a tank top. You step into the en suite bathroom and change quickly. A glance at Julie’s closed door confirms she hasn’t been woken by Bucky’s early visit, and you breathe a quick sigh of relief.

The gym is empty, lighting kept low. It smells clean, despite its purpose, and Bucky begins your training with warm-ups: a few laps, some crunches, a few rounds on the punching bag to get your blood flowing.

Then, the real work begins.

Bucky doesn’t go easy - he comes at you like an enemy would, throwing his weight into each kick and punch. Each move calculated and thought out before the previous one is even finished. You can’t keep up, block his attacks as best as you can, but he barely lets you get an attack of your own in. He never tires - damn super serum.

He downs you embarrassingly fast, knee pressed into your chest. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to get his point across. He holds out his left hand, metal warm against your palm, and hoists you to your feet, but in the next second, he’s at you again.

You’re a little more ready this time - only just - and manage to parry more of his attacks. Even get in a kick that he blocks, but it’s the first time he’s given you an opening. He throws his metal fist and the whirring is loud next to your ear as you just barely dodge it. You’re a little surprised Bucky would even go for your face with the metal appendage, and it’s that shock that is your downfall.

Your split-second falter results in you face-down on the mat, feet swept out from under you with your arms pinned behind your back. Wind knocked out of you, nose throbbing where it’s hit the mat. You groan a little, grunting when his weight disappears from you, and you roll onto your back.

“Sheesh, you don’t fuck around, do you?” you ask, coughing as you catch your breath. He’s barely sweating above you, feet planted on either side of your hips. The only sign he’s exerted himself - a few strands of dark hair have fallen out of the bun at the back of his head.

“Not fair,” you mumble low under your breath, reminded only after a moment of his super soldier hearing. Face warming, you avert your eyes up and back as a smirk curls his mouth.

“Just needed to get a feel for you, sweetheart.” The pet name rolls over you like a warm bath, makes your skin prickle with goosebumps as he extends a hand and hauls you to your feet with all the effort it takes to lift a feather. Damn that super serum.

“Okay, first of all,” he starts once you’re back on your feet, steps forward and presses down on your shoulders, “you are way too tense. You’re going to hurt yourself, and you’re going to tire yourself out. So relax.”

You take a deep breath in and let it out slowly, try to push the tension coiled tight in your body away. It works, kind of, until a different kind of tension arises when Bucky circles you, brings his hands to your shoulders and digs his thumbs in.

“Relax,” he orders softly. “More.”

As his thumbs rub hard circles into the muscles of your shoulders, you feel your body melting against his touch, lower regions clenching. Jesus, what he does to you.

“Better.” His voice slides over you like a warm bath, soothing and comforting, until he lowers his hands and steps away. You almost lean back, chasing his touch. A low chuckle, and then he stands before you again. “Let’s try this again. Remember, keep yourself loose.”

It’s difficult to do what he says, to keep your body pliant and flexible when every time he swings for you, you yearn to tense up. You have to train your body, he says, train it to fight for you, not against you.

“You hesitate too much,” he says next. “You give your opponent too much time to suss out a weak spot. Don’t hesitate. Think. Stay a step ahead. When you make one move you should immediately be thinking of the next.”

You grit your teeth, quicken your movements and try to use the size difference against him. He grins, a little proudly, when he catches on, seems to struggle in keeping track of your hits.

“Good,” he encourages, following it up with a grunt as your elbow meets his lower belly.

You barely give him a second to recover, and then you move again, turning your moves into a game - a deception. Make him watch your right side as you attack from the left. It takes him minutes to recover, to figure out your game, and he’s grinning again. It both makes you preen and makes you push harder until you finally, finally pin him to the mat.

Sweat pours down your face, soaking your hair and your tank top, drips off your chin onto his chest where you sit, knees on his shoulders. He could easily toss you off, yet he remains where he is - again, barely panting though his skin glimmers with sweat.

He’s solid beneath you, hot like a furnace, wide barrel chest lightly heaving, mouth parted. You swallow thickly, all too warm now and not from the exertion. His eyes have gone dark, crystalline blue almost completely swallowed by black. Abdominal muscles clenching under you, he sits up, slow, almost hesitant. Hands, one metal and the other flesh, both molten as they glide up your spandex-clad legs, raising shivers as he goes.

Heat pools in your lower belly, breath laboring as his hands anchor on your hips, thumbs brushing circles. They’re distracting - his hands, his eyes as they peer up at yours under dark curtain lashes. You’ve never seen them so close, glittering silver under the fluorescent lighting. Breath hot against your cheeks. Everything so warm.

“Good,” he murmurs, low and smooth like honey, hands drifting higher. Yours settle on his biceps, flexing and twitching under your touch. Both unyielding.

Unsure who moves first, you’re surrounded by his scent as his lips touch yours, a tentative caress that steals your breath. You gasp, and Bucky presses forward, kisses you harder and slides his hands up to your face, holding you to him.

A whimper in the back of your throat, fingertips buzzing, mind cloudy as he kisses the breath out of your lungs. Your fingers curl into his hair, loosen it from the bun he’s tied it into. It’s silky soft as you rake your fingers through it, shudder as Bucky sighs into your mouth.

Then, like a cold bucket of ice, your eyes fly open and you jerk away from him, scramble out of his lap onto the mat. Hand over your mouth, you watch wide-eyed as his gently flutter open, lips red and kiss-swollen.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” you gasp, and before you can rethink it, or ponder the confusion-hurt on his face, you flee the gym.

Face burning, you rub your cheeks, try to quell the heat - both from shame and from the effect of Bucky’s kiss. How could you let that happen? Exuded such a loss of control? What would Hill say if she found out? Your comrades? Taking advantage of an Avenger - that, or using him to boost yourself to the top. The rumors would fly, twist, convolute into things so far from the actual truth.

Which was that you’d taken advantage of a goddamn Avenger. Your reputation would be ruined, all the hard work you’ve put in - gone, hidden, erased by horrible rumors that you were nothing but a promiscuous ladder-climber.

Grumbling under your breath at your stupidity, you lean back against the elevator wall, give FRIDAY your floor number. The metal wall is cool against your flushed skin, helps to ground you and bring your mind back. Heaving a deep breath, you straighten as the elevator slides gracefully to a stop.

The doors slide open and you make to step out until you catch sight of an all-too-familiar figure leaning against the wall across from your door.

“Captain?”

Chapter Six

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve x you #steve x reader #steve x reader x bucky #steve x you x bucky #bucky x reader x steve #bucky x you x steve

[kaetastic]

LATE NIGHT RELIEF

pairing: Headboy!Tom Riddle x Headgirl!Reader

summary: The Head Boy and Head Girl seem to be closer than they seem.

word count: 1k+

warning: unprotected sex, semi-public sex, handjob, throat grabbing, pure smut- no story

note: Hello! Yes. Alright, so I kinda of have fell off the face of the Earth. Unfortunately, I can kind of write now. I’m incredibly sorry for the lack of content, I’ve been busy and haven’t spared time to even type a word. I’ve been thinking about Tom and Voldemort very frequently lately, and I needed to write it or else I will be unsatisfied. And it will be stuck in my head. Not good if I want to breathe normally lol. Also!! I’m writing for Peaky Blinders now- so that is very exciting!!

“Oh, fuck...” The blasphemous word fell off her lips as the mass inside her slammed into her with a greater force. The attempt at keeping the voice level at a low bar seemed to only remain unphased when it was only their first three rendezvous, the following ones seemed to be a fluctuating monogram. Skin slapping with the lapping of liquid bounced off the walls of the empty classroom. Strands of her hair pinned itself onto the wall, forming a piece of art while some strung around the hand that scratched the wall for a platform to grip. The tugged up shirt that was nudged above her breast slid down, a second of warmth heated her chest.

With the rich green robe puddled around his ankles, layers of taken off clothing were thrown around the room haphazardly; a guiding skip hop for those if they were to pass the classroom. Which was unlikely, given that the pupils know it was very not possible to escape Tom Riddle. Thanks to those who had to engrave the memory in their heads firsthand as they had to undergo a traumatizing experience.

Plastering onto his forehead, Tom’s raven hair was the pearl necklace as beads of sweat dripped down his temple. The intoxicating blissful feeling devoured his ability to think straight or even maintain his eyes open. The howling of the wind sung into the sleepy school. Despite the chilly air that decorated the exterior with streaks of snowflakes and snow- the cold did not succeed in cooling the empty classroom as the pair seemed to only produce heat that battled the predatory temperature. 

Laying a hand onto the wall next to her head while the other rested on her thighs, his head nudged into the crook of her neck. The sound of her agile heartbeat echoed through his ears, the occasion shudders that played across her body pricked into his skin. If it wasn’t for Tom’s hand which supported her legs, she knew the floor would be her accompany. The exhausting day had already taken all of her energy. 

His hips made place between her thighs like a puzzle piece, glitters of heat peeked out every so often whenever short circuits of energy sparked. After passive and sluggish shoving, an arousing thrust snapped her legs. She wiggled as if her legs were soggy noodles, almost melting into the ground. He only buried himself deeper. Warmth wrapped his cock was like velvet, all he wished for was to let the moment longer. 

But they both didn’t last long. Followed by a couple more thrusts, exchanging of stringed-curses between saliva and attempts to remain quiet- the mess poured out of her cunt, dripping along her leg. The concocted mixture of her and Tom drizzled around the two bodies, puddling as a milky lake.

A moment of heavy breathing stirred up in the hair’s breadth of space between them. Y/N hung her head on the wall, eyes trained onto his shoulders that bopped up and down- trying to regain his normal breathing rate. Her hands caressed his icy body. The beaming lights from the moon played on his skin, the pouring sweat glistened his body as if he was a reflective mirror. The activity which generated heat had halted, a blanket of frozen air engulfed the two. Even though Tom’s body was unusually freezing most of the time, warmth erected as a teasing character.

With no words uttered, her hand trailed down his chest as she languidly drew loops of circles until she was hovering over the semi-hard dick. His eyes gazed into hers, searching for a slight hint or clue for him to read her. Nothing. There were a lot of mysteries buried underneath Hogwarts. However, Y/N was impossible to solve. Thunder sparked for a fire to kindle and roar. Chewing on her bottom lip, the corners of her lips quirked into a smirk once she saw his quick glance towards the enticing act. Shudders of electric zapped through his veins when he felt fingers wrapped around his limping cock. Somehow, her hands were warm. And he craved for more, no, he needed more.

It seemed like it agreed too. Ready with expectations, blood pumped, causing the shaft to throb with needy attention. With an infuriating pace, she rubbed his slit, the hovering friction pressing without any warning. A giggle nearly interrupted the moment when he had jumped at the simple and totally uncalled for act. If it wasn’t for his rapid speed, he would’ve gone feral. The clench around her throat felt like a suffocating collar button that left no space to breathe. His hand encased her voice box, palm jabbing into her.

A gasp choked out of her. Before lust took over.

“You think this is amusing?” Tom sneered, his fingers tightened around her airway. Finally put into place, she cowered under his stare- remembering who she was and her level standing next to Tom Riddle. The slight shake of her head sported a prideful smirk on his face, delighted eyes watched as submission enter her once again. “Go on,”

The hair’s breadth of space between his red head and her still, pouring core caused him to stifle a groan. His grip around her loosened once she flicked her wrist. With his head thrown back, he was hovering over the ground as bliss played on his body, “Fuck...” He stuttered, legs trembling when her hand moved at a pace that got his mind blank.

As soon as bliss roared in his head, faint footsteps creaked into the class. Almost coordinated, the muscles that were once glued onto one another had ripped apart. Whispers and muffles of enchantation coated the floor as the previously uncared for clothing cover the bare bodies, not a single zip played in the air.

Glancing a glint in Tom’s eyes, Y/N’s shoulder rolled back, neck cracking as she prepared to play the act. Creaking the classroom door open, Tom flicked his wrist as a spark busted out of the tip of his wand and the luminous string hopped over the freezing ground. Before the pair knew it, squeaks and high-pitched screeches strung up in the air which were then followed by screams and yelling. A smirk trained of Tom’s lips once satisfaction settled in, those students will never learn anything.

#tom riddle x reader #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle imagines #tom riddle oneshot #tom riddle oneshots #tom riddle smut #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #harry potter oneshots #harry potter oneshot #tom riddle ff

[tomfleton]

Best dramione fics of the decade?

I haven’t engaged in fandom in a few years highkey but dhr fics are my in-flight entertainment so I’ve actually kept up with them through the years! just sat down and looked at all of my fic recs on here and my favorites on ff.net and it was honestly a wholesome experience (would recommend!). There were a TON of fics on my initial list but I ended up basing it off which ones I would still deadass reread now and which ones were very impactful on my shipping life over the years. This took me forever so yall better reblog thx :)

Year = year published, Bolded = ABSOLUTE fave of all of the faves

2010

An Affair to Remember by rzzmg - Hogwarts profs + angst

Utterly Despicable by camnz - dark af but Voldy Wins is my fave au, camnz has the right kinda twisted fics i love

Isolation by bex-chan - duh

Aurelian by BittyBlueEyes - dramione baby from the future :’)

The Persistence of Desire by Margot Le Faye (date unknown originally on hawthorn & vine) - another dark au voldy wins i adore this one even if it’s still a WIP forever

2011

Amazing Grace by rzzmg - dramione as hogwarts ghosts, time to cry

An Inconvenient Wedding by snegurochka - uh infidelity fics were my guilty pleasure in high school sorry

And We All Fall Down by Rumaan - gold standard 8th year fic

The Wrong Man by snegurochka - reiterate the infidelity comment above

2012

Thirty Times Lucky by galfoy - angsty AF

Summer of the Dragon by Lena Phoria - very lighthearted, lena’s world building is amazing, sequel is kind of insane

Difficult by @provocative-envy​ - “And then he smiled, and I was wrecked” is tattoed in my brain

The Bandit and the Cinder Girl by @xfsista​ - will forever bring me immense joy

The Fine Line Between Love and Hate by Short-circuit-Soulmate - it does have a bullying element :/ but the way it’s written makes my brain tingle like asmr-esque idk i will always love this one

Uncoffined by Lady of Clunn - voldy wins au = loml

2013

Renaissance by glass_skies - most beautifully written thing I’ve probably read in my whole life (fanfic or not)

Cruel and Beautiful World by Lena Phoria (not available online anymore but NEVER forget Bronson my king)

2014

Inverse by elesrea - fave hogwarts au, starts in 4th year which i love

The Ones Who Ran by @colubrina​ - voldy wins au

The Mind Trap by LainellaFay - get ready to cry

2015 - the last year i was still v active in fandom and adored @shayalonnie​ & @colubrina​‘s tumblr presence haha that’s what stands out for sure

Presque Toujours Pur by @shayalonnie​ - highkey just reread this last week, forever slaps, shayalonnie’s marauders fics are my lifeblood in general

Better Off Forgotten by Delancey654 - kinda twisted but interesting

The History Project by Colubrina - adorable 

2016 - highkey the year of @olivieblake​ for me - OBSESSED

Clean by olivieblake - this series BLEW MY MIND

Marked by olivieblake

Amortentia by olivieblake - the bachelorette AU !!!

Shipwrecked by Ariel Riddle - like a period film + blue lagoon 

A Past Erased by Ariel Riddle - obliviated hermione + redemption

The Lies That Bind Us by little miss moonlight - slytherin hermione love triangle melodrama that i loved

2017

Hot for Teacher by MotherofBulls - deadass funniest thing i’ve ever read

The Right Thing To Do by lovesbitca8 - honestly my favorite dramione relationship and characterization

All the Wrong Things

The Auction

2018

Manacled by @senlinyuwrites - I rarely followed fics when I was in college but this one was an addiction, the most well thought out fic I’ve probably ever read 

All You Want by @senlinyuwrites - only A/B/O whatever that is worth reading lol

Blindness by gracediamondsfear - we love a no hogwarts, growing up together angsty au

2019

Boardwalk by In Dreams - GOOD SHIT, falling in love surfing in California

Entanglement by blankfish - only forced marriage fic i’d ever read, lots of potential so far! 

#farah reads fics #dramione #dramione fanfiction

[kaitycole]

Two Worlds Collide

Summary: Liam and Luke talk, Liam visits his mother’s actual resting spot and Liam goes back to Walker Ranch.

Word Count: 2014

Pairings: Drake x Riley, Jackson x Eleanor

Warnings: Mentions of character death, loss of a mother, 

A/N: Just a reminder, here’s a link to my character profiles if you’re interested. You learn somethings about a few that won’t be written directly in the series: here.

Song Choice: n/a

Part 18 of WP. To catch up, read here.

It doesn’t take Luke long at all to find Riley on social media. It also didn’t hurt that she seemed to lack privacy settings. He was a bit shocked at how quickly she replied and gave him the information he inquired. So here he sits, a foreign number on his phone waiting to be filed. Call or text? Most people his age text; the thoughts of holding a verbal conversation was just anxiety inducing.  However, would a king text? Just thinking like this caused Luke to short circuit. He decides to leave the decision up to his older brother.

Luke: It’s Luke, can we talk? (8:40 am)

Liam scrunches his face when he hears his personal cellphone start to buzz. There were only a handful of people who had the number and only a few of them actually used it. He almost ignores the unsaved number but doesn’t.

“Uhm, excuse me.” Liam stands up from the kitchen table, leaving the breakfast Riley has prepared and steps outside.

He starts typing before deleting it and starting over. He does this a few times before giving up momentarily. He really wasn’t someone who enjoyed texting, there was too much left unknown about tone and meaning. It was usually only Riley that he’d even humor texting back half the time, but he wasn’t sure about Luke.

Liam: What would you like to talk about? (8:51 am)

Luke is pacing around his room, worried he might have offended his brother. Maybe he should’ve asked Riley, or maybe she had sent him another message and he missed it. Quickly switching back to the social media app, he scrolls but finds no message detailing whether or not he should text or call Liam.

Part of him wants to just go back in time and not have sent the message, but when his phone finally buzzes, he feels relief.

Luke: There’s somewhere I’d like to show you. Are you free? (8:54 am)

Liam looks at his screen, sitting down on the back-porch steps. He really wasn’t ready to go back to the ranch or to even see Jackson. Drake had just barely forgiven him for punching Jackson and he’s sure if it wasn’t for Riley, Drake wouldn’t have been so understanding.

But at the same time, he really doesn’t want to disappoint his brother.

Liam: I don’t think I should be around Jackson today. I am sorry. (9:02 am)

Luke figured that would be the case which is why he has no plans on them being at the ranch, to be honest he doesn’t want to be around his father himself.

Luke: Good thing where we are going isn’t near the ranch, eh? Wanna go? (9:06 am)

Liam: Where should I pick you up? (9:07 am)

Liam shakes his head with a laugh, if looks didn’t prove they were related, the clear evidence of this mother’s laidback attitude surely would.

*                      * “It’s just up here, around this corner.” Luke says to Bastien as they drive silently. Shortly after Luke had given Liam the address of the corner store he had been waiting at, he was picked up and the two brothers started their journey.

The ride, for the most part, is silent, the directions Luke gives the guard being the only ones spoken, but it’s comfortable. There’s something about being around each other that both Luke and Liam enjoy.

“This is it. We can walk from here.” Luke says, rushing to take his seatbelt off and jump out the door just as Bastien pulls the car to a stop.

“Walk? Are you sure about this, Your Majesty?” Bastien doesn’t even try to mask his hesitation; Liam had refused to allow the guard to do any investigating/background checks on his younger brother, though the king already knew he had them waiting if he ever wanted them.

“I’m not going to take him out in a cemetery, how morbid.” Luke teases and Liam fails at holding in a chuckle; Bastien just glares.

“It’s fine, Bas.” Liam rests a calming hand on the guard’s shoulder before looking at Luke, “lead the way before you give my best guard a heart attack.”

Luke tilts is head to the right, “this way.”

They share a brief amount of small talk, mostly about things they recall about their mother. Luke has more memories but they both just find comfort in hearing about their mother, Luke asks a little about this Leo he heard about the other day.

“He seems like the opposite of you.”

Liam laughs, “I hear that a lot. But he can be a really decent guy when he wants to.”

“Here we are.” Luke points at the freshly cleaned gravesite. Liam feels a knot form in his throat as he tries to swallow it, his heart drops.

When he learned his mother had left Cordonia, he felt a relief when he went to her grave in the royal cemetery. To be completely honest, he had felt silly for all the years of going there to talk when in reality he was talking to an empty casket. But here, now, this was it. She really was here, there was no more hopeful thinking that she was still alive somewhere, this casket was full.

Liam feels himself get uneasy, his legs act as if they might give out, causing him to extend a hand to press it against the tree nearby. He’s not sure why, but he feels sick and he for a brief moment regrets not begging Olivia to accompany him; he knows it’s wrong to put that emotional burden on her, but in this instance, he needs no one but her. Luke clearly picks up on him unease and reaches out for his brother.

“I’m sorry, if it’s too much, I can go get Bastien.”

“No, no I’m fine.” He clears his throat, “I just realized that she’s really here. At home, it’s empty, but this one isn’t.”

It finally dawns on Luke that all the years that he had Eleanor, Liam grieved her. Liam didn’t get birthdays and holidays with his warm and loving mother, but instead he only had the comfort of what he thought was her resting place. He knows that Liam already told him that he doesn’t blame him, that the decision was between their parents, but how can he not feel guilty in some way? How can he just not feel as if he’s part of the reason his older brother grew up without a mom, how his other brother and sister grew up with their dad.

“I’ll uh, give you some time.” Luke waits for Liam to nod before he walks a little bit away, stopping when he sees Bastien walking towards him.

“How is he?” Bastien doesn’t look at Luke, rather his gaze is trained on Liam. It hurt him to see the King like this, he’s known him for years, watched him grow up, and Bastien himself had also mourned the loss of the Queen and guardsman. He’s been trained in various fighting styles, both offensive and defensive types, but he didn’t know anything to help the King right now.

“Better than I would be.” His voice cracks which gets Bastien’s attention, “I don’t know how he doesn’t hate me or maybe he’s just that good at lying.” “King Liam doesn’t lie.” Bastien’s voice is steady, his words clear and concise. “He’s a fair person, so if he said he doesn’t hate you then he simply doesn’t. There’s no reason for him to, is there?”

“It’s my fault he lost his mom.”

“Children often end up carrying the burdens of their parents’ decisions. Liam understand that more than most.”

Luke looks at the black-haired man in a suit, feeling an odd sense of relief even though his words were a bit riddle-like. He stands there next to Bastien, silently, allowing Liam the time to actually finally grieve.

*                      * “I’ve been doing this for years, but this time it feels awkward.” He laughs, looking at the tombstone with his mother’s name. This time is different than all the times he visited her so-called grave in Cordonia, this time she was actually here which makes him feel suddenly self-conscious about talking to her. Not to mention he knows Bastien and Luke are close by which just adds to the anxiety.

“I know I couldn’t possibly understand what you went through, how scared you must have been especially of Constantine. But that doesn’t mean I’m not mad at you because part of me is. You just left me, left me with him all alone and came here to raise your new family.” Tears start to slip down his cheeks, part of him hating the fact that he’s mad at the one woman he’s always held up.

“I won’t understand why you made the decisions that you did nor can I judge the ones you made, but I’m struggling to give that same curtesy to Jackson. You would probably tell me to judge you both equally since you were both involved in the decisions made, but I can’t. Everyone says that I was born to be King and a fair ruler,” he trails off, “oh yeah, I’m the King, Mom. Leo abdicated.”

“But how am I fair when I can’t be fair in a personal matter? Though you’d probably tell me that it’s normal to not think clearly when personal feelings are in play, that there’s councils for those moments, but where’s my council for this? I don’t want your memory tarnished in Cordonia, but other than Olivia, I have no one to talk to at court that I trust with this.”

Olivia expressed hesitation on him even coming, which is why he’s avoided calling her. Riley also didn’t care for Jackson, so she wasn’t exactly as third party as he needed nor was Drake who in Liam’s opinion was too caught up on the fact his dad was alive rather than what his dad did all those years ago.

Liam starts crying, not really caring to hide it. He wasn’t in Cordonia, he isn’t King right now, he doesn’t need to appear strong when he’s falling apart inside. He raises his hand to place it on the top of the tombstone, dragging it down slowly to trace the engraved letters of her name. His voice breaks as the sobs wedge their way in between his words, “I needed you…I need you, Mom.”

He leans his head back, letting out a deep breath and taking one in, trying to calm himself. He realizes that he never really cried at her grave in Cordonia, only ever at her portrait and maybe some how he knew, but he thinks it’s mostly because kings don’t show their emotions in public. Standing up, he pats the tombstone, realizing who he really needs to talk to about all of this, who can actually give him the answers that he needs.

*                      * “You know, today’s been pretty emotional, you can always come back tomorrow.” Luke tries to reason with Liam, mostly wanting the chance to talk to Jackson before Liam does. Though Luke can’t be sure if Jackson would even be telling the truth if he talked to Luke separately or all of them together.

“As much as the idea of a lengthy stay is ideal, I do have a country to run so I can’t drag out these things.” “Oh, yeah.” Luke is still struggling to comprehend his eldest brother’s life and title. Maybe he was being selfish, but all he really wanted was to sit down and just chat with him, like brothers do, right?

Liam smile, patting his younger brother’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, regardless of the continent I plan on being a good big brother.”

Luke looks away, cheeks blushing before he shakes off Liam’s hand, “I wasn’t worried.”

“Luke, where on earth have you been?” Jackson comes rushing out the front door, ruining the small moment between the brothers before his eyes land on Liam and he stops. “Liam.”

“Jackson, I think we have a lot to talk about.”

#witness protection #witness protection au fic #the royal romance #choices #trr Liam rys #trr Jackson walker #trr Eleanor rys #trr drake walker #oc luke walker