#I've had to stop and get the dust out of my eyes a few times while listening to my own stuff lol

[angelicsoka]

THE HAT RULE, t. owens

word count | 1.7k words

pairings | tyler owens x meteorologist!fem!reader

summary | where tyler owens decides to show the reader what the hat rule is. 

warnings | MINORS DNI!! 18+ ONLY!! HEAVY smut! reader doesn’t know the hat rule. not proofread. lowercase intended. 

a/n | first of all, sorry for disappearing, i've had NO motivation to write on here, but i saw twisters yesterday and seeing glen powell in a cowboy hat changed me as a person, and also gave me motivation to write. i’ve never written a full smut so i apologize if this sucks, i've stepped out of my comfort zone for this one.

the first time you had ever encountered a tornado was a memory you were sure to never forget. growing up in new york meant rain and snow but no tornadoes. so when traveling to nebraska on a field trip in high school, you were unprepared when the sirens sounded, sending everyone into a frenzy. you had watched as the rain pelted from the sky, a funnel forming up above. you were mesmerized as your teacher pulled you to safety, a sort of thrill tearing through  your body. from that moment on, you knew what you wanted to do. you went to college for meteorology, graduating near top of your class before going onto to work at a local news station. but it never quite settled the feeling that something was missing, until you stumbled across tyler owens’ youtube channel. 

tyler owens had become a sensation, a daredevil who did more than just chase the storms, he rode into them. and that seemed to heighten that need of a thrill. so, you hit him up and to your surprise, he replied. and what had started out as a week off of work to storm chase with the daredevil, turned to going part time at your job and joining him on the road.

that was a season ago, and now you were sat at a dingy bar, sipping a beer with tyler and the team. the man himself was sat on the stool next to you, nursing his own beer and listening to lily speak. you ignored the slight butterflies that entered your stomach as he laughed. you had learned to never mix work and love, but something about tyler had you questioning that lesson. he looked mighty fine in his blue jeans and button up, supporting a cowboy’s hat on his head. you noticed your beer was gone, standing up you turned to your crew.

“i'm gonna get another beer, can i get anyone anything?” no’s were murmured around the group except for one.

“i could use another, how ‘bout i come with ya?” you shrugged, tyler getting up to walk with you. lily let out a low whistle, stopping at your glare. 

“be my guest.” you two walked over to the bar top, signaling the busy bartender. “can we get two more, when you get a sec?” the bartender nodded, going to make a few drinks before he could grab their bottles. 

“so, miss city girl, how you likin’ riding with us? ready to go back to the big apple yet?” tyler questioned, turning to look down at you slightly. damn the height difference.

“don’t think you��re getting rid of me that quick, i have a lot more storm chasing left in me, cowboy.” you winked, tyler laughing. you debated for just a moment before reaching up and taking the cowboy hat from his head.

“the hell you think you’re doing?” tyler questioned as you placed the hat on your own head, admiring your reflection on your phone.

“you wear this hat all the damn time, i just wanted to see if there was something special about it? maybe it has some magical powers or something.” the bartender came back around, beer bottles in hand. you thanked him, handing him some cash before turning back to tyler, who had an odd look in his eye. you quickly took off the hat, worried you had pissed him. you went to hand it back to him, when tyler shook his head:

“keep it on, it suits you.” tyler picked up his beer, beginning back to the table. the comment caused a light blush to dust your cheeks. shaking your head, you hoped it didn't show too much as you followed him back. you sat in your seat, confused by the odd looks you received from the crew. nobody said anything about the hat as the night went on, but that didn’t stop the odd looks.

by last call, it was you and tyler left of the crew. thankfully the bar was across the street from the motel, tyler paying the tab much to your protest, before setting off back to the motel. you had forgotten you still wore tyler’s hat upon your head, only remembering when you went to brush your hair from your eyes, your hand bumping the rim. “hey, do you know why everyone kept giving me weird looks after i put your hat on? and why boone and dani wouldn’t stop snickering?” tyler looked over to you as you climbed the stairs of the motel.

“you don't know?” you shook your head in response, tyler holding a bewildered look. “you don't know the hat rule?”

“there’s a hat rule?” tyler stopped at his door, which neighbors your’s and lily’s. “what?”

“you wear the hat, you ride the cowboy.” he deadpanned, your eyes widening and a heavy blush coating your cheeks. 

“oh my god! i promise i wasn’t trying to imply that or anything. not there’s anything wrong with you, because you’re– well you’re you, and–”  you fumbled over your words, stopping mid sentence when tyler laughed.

“hey, it's fine. if you weren’t trying to insinuate that, that’s fine. but if you were, well, now's your chance. and i’d be more than happy to show you how that rule works.” tyler walked closer, a minimal amount of space between you, just enough to allow you to choose whether you close that gap or leave. 

you stood there for a moment, stunned at his offer. and without much thought, you closed the gap, hands going to grip his face and pull him closer to you. his hands moved to your hips, fingers digging into the fabric of your shorts. the kiss was feverish, all unspoken feelings surfacing. tyler began to pull away much to your dismay, one hand leaving your hip to fish out his keys from his pocket as he moved his other arm to hold your waist. he unlocked the door with ease, pulling you inside and shutting the door before pushing you up against it, the hat falling as he did so. he went to town on your neck, enticing soft moans and whimpers from your lips. the way he sucked at your neck and how he had previously handled you had conjured up a pool of wetness in your panties. 

your arm wrapped around his neck, holding him to your throat, as your fingers tugged at his hair. he groaned against your skin, biting down ever so softly when you tugged on his hair. he gripped at your leg, pulling it up to give him better access to your cunt. he rubbed his clothed cock along you covered cunt, pleased with the moans that escaped your mouth.

“god, keep moaning like that and i might have to take you right here.” you blushed once more, pulling tyler to meet your lips once more. you pushed off the door, lips still connected to tyler’s as you blindly pushed him back to the bed. his legs hit the edge of the bed, tyler breaking the kiss as he pulled off your shirt, both of you kicking off your shoes and socks before lips were reattached once more. 

you pulled back, tyler unbutton his shirt as you began to work on his belt buckle. “woah, easy, pretty girl. you’ll get a taste, don’t worry. the night’s still young. but for now, i gotta show ya what happens when ya wear the hat.” tyler pulled off his shirt, walking to pick up the forgotten hat, placing it on your head. “this stays on.” you nodded, eyes hooded as tyler pulled your shorts and panties down. “you’re even more perfect than i had imagined.” before you could question him, tyler pulled his jeans off, his boxers next as his cock sprung up. tossing them to the side tyler pulled you onto his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed, “you sure ‘bout this? i don’t have any condoms.” tyler asked, different from how he just was. you nodded, kissing him softly.

“i’m on the pill, and i trust you.” tyler nodded, holding over his cock as he slowly guided it along your pussy. you held yourself up as tyler’s thumb rubbing your clit, enjoying your whimpers. “please, tyler.” you begged, tyler aligning his cock with your entrance before guiding you down. you hand went your hat as your head rested on tyler’s shoulder, almost pornographic moans escaping from your lips. “oh my god.” he slowly eased himself into you, whispering praises as he did so.

“god, feels like you were made for me.” your cunt hugged his cock beautifully. when his cock was fully in, he allowed you to get used to the stretch, “tell me when you're ready.” you stilled for a moment, adjusting to his size. you kissed and sucked on his neck, slowly beginning to rock your hips. “fuck, let’s get this off of ya.” tyler’s hands skillfully unclipped your bra, tossing it to the side, fingers ghosting over your perky nipples. you pulled off his shoulder, giving him better access to your tits. “you’re fuckin’ beautiful, darlin’.” tyler attached his mouth to one of your nipples, enticing a soft moan. you continued to ride him, hips moving faster as you chased your incoming orgasm. your left hand gripped tyler’s shoulder, fingernails digging into his bare skin as your right hand held onto the hat that adorned your head. 

as your orgasm inched closer and closer, your movements became more erratic, chasing your high. tyler moaned, whispering praises as your walls clenched around his cock. he knew you were close, mouth moving to your pulse point as he pounded into you, taking over. tyler clapped a hand over your mouth as your orgasm hit, muffling your screams so you didn't wake up your neighbors. his movements however did not slow as he worked you through your orgasm, chasing his own high. your legs trembled as he continued to pound into you, your second orgasm of the night approaching quickly. “fuck! fuck, ty-” you cut yourself off, body shaking as you hit your climax once more. tyler began to huff and moan, pulling you impossibly closer as he reached his own high. you blubbered, unable to form actual words as tyler’s hands roamed your body. you pulled back, kissing him roughly.

“goddamn,” he helped you off his cock, helping guide you onto the bed, “think you’ll be able to handle a round two?”

“don’t go thinking you can get rid of me that easily.” 

[entitled-fangirl]

Direwolf.

Cregan Stark x wife!reader

Summary: Cregan's direwolf is spoiled by the reader.

A/n: Based on ask! Also I'm running a fever, so I'm praying this makes sense

Masterlist

.....................................

"Perhaps it was an idiotic thought from the start," Cregan mutters as he views the sight before him. 

His sweet wife sat on the ground of the dining hall, lavishing their dire wolf in affection. 

Well, Cregan's direwolf.

Well, it was supposed to be Cregan's. 

He had found the wolf not long before he became the Lord of Winterfell. Now, after almost seven years with the animal, their bond was inseparable. 

So when Cregan's wife joined the mix, Cregan was nervous.

But she had a love for Dark Night, as did the large beast for her. 

"I find it sweet," the Maester said with a light smile. "It is important the two get along, isn't it? Better than fighting for your attention, I'd wager."

"That's the thing," Cregan sighed. "Neither of them needs my attention. They're content on their own."

The maester chuckled, looking at the sight of the woman and wolf before excusing himself.

Cregan walked to the pair, holding his hand out to his wife. "C'mon, sweet girl."

Y/n looked up with a smile and took his hand, brushing off dust from her skirt as she did so. 

Dark Night let out a low coo, sitting up and nuzzling at her thigh.

"Seems I'll have to fight for even a moment with you," Cregan smiled as he tucked his face into her neck.

She let out a soft giggle. "Don't be so upset, Cregan. You know you always have my heart."

He chuckled with her, pulling away and leading her to the dining table, pulling out her chair before sitting across from her. 

The two talked of mundane things as usual: their day, the problems of the North, ideas they had, anything and everything. 

Finally, Cregan tilted his head with a furrowed brow. "What are you doing?"

She looked at him with wide eyes, as if caught in a horrid lie. "N…nothing."

He simply stared, his hands resting atop the table. "Are you feeding Dark Night under the table?"

She reaches to pick something off of her plate, lowering it below the table. "No?"

He leaned back in his chair with an incredulous look and a chuckle, "You little minx. He eats enough, you know that."

"Well, yes, but," she gave a shrug. "He just looks at me so pitifully, I cannot say no."

She reached up to grab more, but Cregan stopped her, "Don't."

She paused, "Cregan-"

"-Do not spoil that damn dog. He is fine."

Before long, Dark Night's large head weighed down on Cregan's lap from under the table, a longing look in the animal's eyes. 

Cregan looked down at him with a tight lip and a shaking head, "Your methods may work on our sweet girl, but you will get nothing from me."

The wolf nuzzled in more, trying to get Cregan's attention still. 

Finally, Cregan waved his hand out at the wolf, "Get. Go on. You have already been fed today."

Dark Night accepted the defeat and left the dining hall, an obvious annoyance in the way he walked. 

"Now," Cregan sighed. "Let us try to speak again."

…

A few hours later, Cregan entered their chambers in pure exhaustion. 

The day had been longer than he had hoped, and he wanted nothing more than time with his wife.

Seeing her curled up on the sofa next to the fireplace warmed something inside of him. 

He came from behind, leaning down to place a kiss on the crown of her head. 

She hummed, looking up from her book. "Hello, lovely."

A small whine sounded in the room.

Cregan's brow furrowed as he scanned the room for his wolf. 

"Why is he on the bed?"

She leaned forward, looking over her shoulder to see that the wolf had indeed found a comfortable place on their bed. She shrugged, "He was there when I got here. I didn't have the heart to move him."

Cregan gripped her shoulders from behind, gently massaging them. "I've had this wolf years, and never has he even been allowed the notion that being upon the bed was allowed."

She smiled as she looked over her shoulder at Cregan this time, "He's been so wonderful today. Let him stay."

He leaned down to her ear, a teasing smile across his face, "Why should I?"

She let out a hum. "Please, Cregan."

"Please what?" He teased.

Her head leaned back against the back of the sofa, "You know what you're doing, Lord Stark."

He smirked, leaning up and moving to the bed, "Up."

Dark Night lifted his head to look at Cregan.

Y/n immediately gets off of the couch, "Cregan."

"I mean it," he complains. "That dog cannot run this castle." 

"He's not," she comes as she moved to Dark Night, petting his fur.

"My love, he-" Cregan froze completely, eyeing the dog. "A collar? You've bought him a collar?"

She smiled sheepishly. "Perhaps."

Cregan crosses his arms, looking up at the ceiling for a moment as he bit the inside of his cheek in thought. "Gods, you're gonna be the death of me."

"He's being so sweet, Cregan. Look at him!"

Cregan looked down, seeing his sweet wife practically laying on the large animal.

He shook his head, a large smile coming across his face. "As long as there is still room for your husband."

"Oh, always, Cregan."

…

Cregan woke up in the night, pulling at the blanket that would not move. He leaned up on his elbows, seeing the giant dire wolf that laid on his wife's feet, holding the blanket down underneath him. 

Cregan heaved a great sigh, but inside, he really didn't mind.

He was glad the two greatest things in his life cared for each other. It made his occasional absence to the Wall less guilt wracked. 

He knew they'd keep each other warm until he came back.

.....................................

Taglist: @twinkletwinklenotastar, @kidd3ath, @yujyujj, @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia, @ashovertheriver

[azen13]

CW: Yandere Themes, Kissing

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Imagine Yandere!Zhongli in a Reverse!AU, where you're Liyue's Archon and you seal him away. Thousands of years ago, you and him were friends ruling over different sections of what would become Liyue. You hardly noticed the way his eyes lingered on you whenever he saw you, hardly knew how he would dream of having you all to himself.

One day, he makes an advance as you both sip on tea at Mount Aocang, pledging to move mountains and sink continents if you ask. The price of his eternal affection remains unsaid, but you can see it in the feral, draconic look in his eye. Every dragon has a hoard, even Zhongli. And he will stop at nothing until he can have you as his most valuable treasure.

Despite his efforts to prevent you from escaping, you manage to flee back to your territory. Weeks later, Zhongli attempts to catch you off guard with a surprise invasion, but in the heat of battle, you manage to seal him away beneath the earth.

Millenia pass, and you mourn the loss of a friend, but work to build the nation of Liyue up to the ground. The Fatui come, offering a deal for your Gnosis, and you refuse. It is a mistake you will regret every day for eternity.

One day, the earth shakes in a way that makes your stomach turn.

You feel his presence before you even catch a glimpse of his crystalline horns or golden eyes. Warm and earthy like petrichor. Running out into the city streets, you help an elderly couple around some piles of rubble, before continuing towards the source of the power.

The God of Contracts finds you first, though, easily snaring your feet in stone. His power is choking in a way, and when you try to fight back with your own magic, you feel the power in your body quickly draining from you. Zhongli notices the surprise in your face, and a small smirk plays on his lips. "I've had many years to learn some new...tricks, my treasure," he murmurs, striding towards you confidently. His fingers hook under your chin, pulling it up so your eyes gaze into his. "The people that freed me said they would let me keep you if I gave them your Gnosis."

In an instant, his hand is in your chest, grasping around for your Gnosis. You cry out in pain and try to struggle, but Zhongli grabs your shoulder in a tight grip, forcing you steady. It only takes a moment for him to pull out your Gnosis, gazing at it intently. "You cannot truly understand how long I have dreamt of this day. Of you, my dearest. And now, we will never have to be apart," he whispers, pressing his lips against yours greedily. He allows himself a few seconds to savor this scene, before pulling away.

"Now, my treasure. I wish to make a contract with you." With a wave of his hand, he manifests a piece of parchment filled with words on it out of thin air. "I will help repair all the damage I have done if you promise to be mine, in body and spirit, for better or for worse." You glare at him vehemently, spitting out your refusal. In return, Zhongli simply chuckles. "In that case, I will turn every building to dust," he threatens.

Turning to some already-damaged buildings, he raises a hand, ready to demolish them with a flick of the wrist. Your cries of acquiescence stop him before he can, however. When you finish signing, Zhongli gives you a predatory smile, brushing his fingers against the side of your face. "I knew you would surrender, my dearest," he purrs, possessiveness filling his eyes. "Now, allow me to fulfill my own contract, and then we can return home," he says.

You get the feeling that you will not be leaving home for a very long time.

[pomefioredove]

i just noticed on your 'yuu gets sold' sorta series that there was a good ending, by chance could you do a bad ending one? if not that's totally ok! keep safe and stay healthy ❤️

oh god. I have a very evil idea for this.

parts 1 | 2 | 3 | kalim

summary: a bad (or good, depending on your stance) ending type of post: short fic characters: surprise :) additional info: yuu is gender neutral, this is short, HELP

Everyone waits.

The chatter and banter which once occupied the courtyard dies down to dull whispers and foot tapping.

Everyone waits, and there's no Crowley.

"Wonderful," Jamil sighs. "He's probably taken all the money and run off. I told you all that-"

"Maybe he's late!" Kalim shouts. A few in the crowd murmur in hopeful agreement.

Silver coughs. "Maybe he realized this whole thing is ridiculous and is processing everyone's refunds,"

They don't like that option as much.

The sun hangs lower and lower in the sky, threatening to shroud everyone in darkness as the minutes tick on.

"Well, I've had enough of this," Vil says, turning towards the exit. "I've put off my afternoon long enough."

"For once, we can agree on something," Leona murmurs, dragging Ruggie along with him.

No one is exactly surprised with this turn of events- but there's a definite sense of disappointment that everyone is sharing.

"He probably just forgot or 'somethin," Epel says, walking alongside Ace, Deuce, and Jack back to Ramshackle to update you on the happenings.

Jack shrugs. "He's definitely not the most organized, but there's no way someone could just "forget" about this. I think Jamil is right, he probably ran off with the money while he could. The swindler..."

Deuce is the next to add something to the pity party. "And yet, we should've known this was a possibility,"

"Shoulda seen it coming..." Epel murmurs. "I shoulda listened to Vil and pulled out while I still had the chance. Dang it..."

The lights are on in Ramshackle as the four approach, a warm and welcome sight after their disappointing afternoon. And the front door is open- were you expecting them?

"Hm. Well, think of it this way," Ace pushes the door the rest of the way open. "We may have been scammed, but at least nothing changes. I mean, it could've been worse."

"A lot worse," Deuce murmurs, following him inside.

The four make it into the foyer and stop dead in their tracks.

There are many things to expect walking into Ramshackle- cobwebs, dust, ghosts, you- Crowley is usually not one of them.

"You- you've been here this whole time?!" Epel shouts, throwing his arms out. "We were all 'waitin for 'ya like a bunch of idjits!"

Deuce and Ace wince. "Dude, chill... but seriously, where were you?"

Crowley doesn't have the chance to answer before something else steals away their attention.

You walk into the room, suitcase in hand. "Guys?"

The four turn to greet you, eyes wide at the luggage you're carrying. "What's that... Crowley?"

The man himself just stands there, pretending to ponder something. "I could have sworn I sent someone to break the news... how peculiar,"

Epel's brow knots. "What news?"

"A third party somehow got wind of our little... venture and donated a very high sum at the last minute. Along with a very passionately worded letter about our dear prefect's safety here at school," he pauses. "Or lack thereof."

Crowley sighs. "The name rung a bell, but... I couldn't imagine how or why anyone outside of NRC would be following the prefect's moves so closely,"

Deuce's eyes narrow. "Crowley. What are you trying to say?"

"Well, I..." he says, seemingly at a loss for words. "I'm afraid to say that our prefect is being transferred to Noble Bell College,"

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

{ Thank you for the idea @imsodonewiththissite !! It almost got angsty but i controlled myself!!! }

"What in God's name is that?" Dustin’s voice goes almost shrill as he walks behind Steve, looks down at his pumpkin. Eddie's head shoots up from where he's carving his own pumpkin, his legs shot out in front of him, his feet hitting Steve's across from him. Steve flushes, tells Dustin to shut up, and shoves at his legs to get him to move on.

"Alright alright jeez! It's just... I've never seen a pumpkin like that. Did you even try?" Dustin huffs as he settles back into his own carving area between Lucas and Will.

"Yes. I did try. Thank you very much. Henderson." Steve huffs, wipes at his pumpkin, then wipes his hand in the grass to get the bits of guts off. Eddie sits up taller, making a show of trying to see Steve's carving, but not really trying to see, they'd agreed to show each other at the same time.

Steve hadn't really had any idea what to do, so he'd just done something silly. But he could see Will and Dustin’s and theirs were detailed, and spooky. And his just looked... stupid, now. Steve sighed and put the top back on his, waiting for Eddie to finish.

He was staring, he knew he was. He couldn't help it. He loved when Eddie was in full concentration mode, his tongue poking out between his lips, his brows crinkled. Steve would never tell him that. But he could look. No harm in that.

Eddie looked up and met his eyes, smiled brightly, and dusted of his own pumpkin before popping the top back on. He tilted his head, this way and that, a few times and then looked at Steve again.

"Okay. You ready?" He asked, drumming his fingers on the gourd resting under his hands. Steve scrunched his nose.

"I'm having second thoughts." He said quietly, the kids were all yelling, in their own little world, but he still didn't want them to hear.

"Aww. But I'm excited to see it! Especially with the way Dusty Buns reacted." Eddie drooped, his eyes going wide and sad, the way Steve was weak agaisnt. He sighed, his own body drooping.

"Ugh. Fine. On three?" He tilted his head. Eddie nodded.

"On three."

"One."

"Twosie." Eddie wiggled his fingers, Steve rolled his eyes fondly.

"Three!" They both said it together and turned their pumpkins toward each other.

Steve's eyes shot open, Eddie's was... good. Like really good. Everything a spooky jack-o-lantern should be. Creepy eyes, sharp teeth, what looked like a skull nose.

"Holy shit Eds. That's... holy shit. Mine is so shit compared to- why are you making that face? What's happening?" Steve changed directions mid sentence because Eddie's mouth had dropped open as he stared at Steve hideous excuse for a carving.

"Oh my god you hate it." Steve grabbed at his pumpkin, about to turn it back toward him and hide it forever but he froze when a sound started coming out of Eddie's open mouth.

It took a moment to really form, but once it got going, Steve could hear it. Manical giggles were bubbling up out of Eddie's mouth. He slapped his hands over his face to stop them but they just kept coming.

Steve wasn't sure if he should be offended or not. He frowned though, his brows dropping on his head and Eddie immediately shook his head.

"Oh my god he's ADORABLE!" Eddie cackled the words, shoved his own pumpkin genlty aside and crawled toward Steve's, his hands outstreched and grabbing.

"I know it's- wait what?" Steve was so confused.

"Steve I love him. Look at his stupid little face." He'd devolved into baby talk and was scratching at the pumkin like you would a babies chin. Steve felt himself smiling.

"Wait you actually like it?" Dustin guffawed from behind him. Eddie spun around fast, guarding Steve's pumpkin from sight.

"Excuse me?! 'It'? Don't you ever speak like that about my son- our son!" He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at Steve. Dustin rolled his eyes.

"It's not even scary! It's just a big mouth!" Dustin’s hands flailed. Eddie screamed at him dramatically, clutching his chest.

"He has a tooth! And two adorable teeny tiny eyes!" Eddie moved, pointed at the face Steve had made. El and Will both aw-d, Max and Lucas smiled, Mike just rolled his eyes.

"He's not- it's just-" Dustin stammered a bit.

"What? Dustin. He's what?!" Eddie asked, his hands still clutching at his chest.

"He's ugly! Okay? It's an ugly pumpkin!" Dustin yelled, Steve didn't even have time to feel hurt, because Eddie shrieked again, his voice going impossibly high.

"Dustin Henderson! I can't believe you just called your brother ugly. You heathen!" Eddie practically hissed the last word before he hopped to his feet and bundled Steve's pumpkin into his arms.

"Unbelievable. We don't need them Steve. Let's go." He popped his nose into the air and looked to Steve. He knew he had to look like a deer in headlights, not sure exactly where they were meant to be going.

"Kitchen." Eddie whispered, giving Steve a wink.

"Oh right. Okay yeah." Steve stumbled toward the door, opening it for Eddie as he stomped after him.

"Oh what you're going inside? Just leaving us out here?" Dustin called, Will and El booing him as he kept taunting Steve and Eddie. Eddie spun, looked at Dustin, propped the pumpkin on his hip like a toddler and pointed his finger accusingly.

"Yes. And we are leaving... in a huff!" Eddie's accent sounded slightly French at the end as he spun around again and stomped into the house.

"Slam the door Steven. Show them we mean it." Eddie said with an air finality. Steve grinned, fighting back laughter, and slammed the door. He tugged the blind closed too, for good measure. He turned to find Eddie wiping at the pumpkin with a wet washrag, getting all the little shavings off.

"You didn't have to do that." Steve said, moving to stand next to him. But not too close.

"Do what?" Eddie asked, grabbing the dish towel off the little hook and drying the pumpkin now. Steve sighed, leaned his butt against the counter and looked at the floor.

"Play it up liked you love the pumpkin. To make me feel better about my complete lack of skill." Steve laughed a little, shrugged, and looked up to find Eddie staring at him. He tossed the towel down and took a step forward.

"Oh no. Unfortunately for you, Steven. That was a genuine reaction. I fucking love this thing." He patted at the side of the pumpkin and grinned at Steve. Steve frowned.

"Really? It's not... I mean it's nothing special. Did you see Will's, I swear there was a castle on it." Steve shook his head. Dismissive.

"Oh I saw it. Still like yours more." Eddie said, matter of fact.

"Why?" Steve was still frowning. Eddie sighed, walked over and stood next to Steve, his arm pressed agaisnt him, warm.

"Me and my mom used to buy four pumpkins. Every Halloween. Always four. Two for her. And two for me." Eddie's voice was soft, the way it always was when he talked about his mother. Steve found himself trying not to breathe to loudly, he wanted to hear everything Eddie had to say.

"We'd each do a classic, spooky guy. But the other one. The other one we used to make just... the most ridiculous faces. Or the dumbest ones. Anything cute and silly." He looked at Steve for a moment, a soft smile on his lips at the memory.

"It very quickly became a contest of who could make who laugh the most. Just by carving some silly face." Eddie shook his head and laughed gently.

"I haven't made a funny one since she died. And you turned that pumpkin around and it took me back. To all those stupid pumpkins and how we used to laugh. And I mean really laugh." Eddie's voice was getting tight as he spoke, a little wobbly, and Steve wanted to hug him, wasn't sure if he could.

"She had the best laugh Steve. She'd have loved this." He moved his hand over the pumpkin again, gently stroked down it's side.

"And you."

It was almost too quiet. Steve almost didn't hear it. Wasn't sure he had until he looked up and saw the way Eddie was looking at him. Steve is so sure that it's the same way he'd been looking at Eddie for months now.

"It's the perfect pumpkin Steve. The best one I've seen in years." He's so serious, when he says it. Steve feels like he might cry. Feels a bit reckless, with Eddie looking at him like that. So he leans toward Eddie, his heart fluttering as Eddie smiles, just a barely thing, and leans toward him too.

The kiss is soft, Eddie makes a little sound in the back of his throat when Steve's hand moves to his neck and pulls him closer. They kiss until they're both smiling so much it's just their teeth clicking together and Eddie dissolves into manic giggles again and buries his face in Steve's neck as he holds him close.

"You have a good laugh too Ed's. " Steve sighs, pulling Eddie closer as he hums and nuzzles into his neck, his fingers pressing into Steve's back as he cuddles closer. Steve breathes deeply, his nose buried in Eddie's hair, and feels Eddie smile against the soft skin of his neck.

-

-

-

( below is an approximation of their pumpkin faces. I fucked up the eddie one's mouth dont looookk at meeeee )

[thebluester2020]

Sdv Bachelors X super loud Farmer in bed?

SDV Bachelors x Loud Farmer (In Bed)

Summary: How SDV bachelors react to their usually quiet farmer being surprisingly loud in bed. Warning(s): SMUT, Slight degradation on Shane's part, Sebastion and Elliot being canon munches, Alex kinda gives “sex in cemetery before zombie apocalypse” vibes.

Side Note(s): I've always wondered where people would get those nsfw headers and I finally found the sauce as to where I get them. I'm literally over the moon right now.

Also, I'm in the firm belief that Alex is a gay man but for the sake of fairness. I'm including him in this 😔

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Elliot

Pleasantly surprised (and eager to hear your voice again).

Throughout y'all's relationship. Elliot knew you to be a very level-headed person, and it was hard to get an intense reaction out of you. Even when you two first kissed on a boat, you offered him nothing but the sight of faint dusting on your cheeks and you stuttering a little.

From then on, he naturally thought you'd be like that with everything! Including the bedroom.

Boy was he wrong, and he was more than happy to see how loud you could get.

♡ - "My...what was that, my dear?" He purred, looking up from between your thighs with a teasing glint in his eyes. As you steadily came out of your daze, trying to relive the last few moments, your cheeks suddenly burst into flames as you remembered the noise you just made. "N-Nothing," You said. "You were hearing things..." Elliot tilted his head with a teasing smile. He was no fool, and nor would he allow yourself to so easily disregard the noise you just made. A noise that nearly made him cum untouched within his pants as the sound played over and over and over again within' his head.

He had to hear it again.

Suddenly, his tongue flicked over your clit again, a sharp gasp tearing from your throat at the act. "Seems we'll have to set aside some time to teach your mouth to be as honest as your pussy, huh?" Without leaving you room to respond, his mouth quickly found your pussy again, lewd slurping noises leaving from between your thighs as he switched between tongue-fucking your sex and sucking on your clit.

Let's just say that Elliot managed to get more than a few more noises out of you that night...

Sebastion

Shocked.

See, you and Sebastion were similar in the quiet department. Personality wise at least.

He knew how you'd react to certain things because it was how he would react, and that dynamic made your relationship very smooth sailing. And like Elliot, he thought that personality would follow into the bedroom. So imagine his face when you let out an adorably loud moan.

It felt like all time stopped in that very moment, his thrusts stilling immediately as he looked down at you with wide eyes.

Oh, he was going to have so much more fun with you now that he knew that his spouse had a secret set of lungs in her.

♡ - He froze the second he heard it.

A breathy and needy little moan that left your kiss swollen lips from the heavy makeout session Sebastion and you had earlier.

There was no mistaking the noise he heard. As you slowly started to come down from your high, a disappointed yet quieter moan leaving your lips as you began to open your teary eyes to look down at him. The pout that appeared on your lips after made Sebastion's cock harden even more inside his shorts. "Sebby..." You whispered, breathlessly. "Why'd you stop...?"

"That noise you made..."

"Huh?"

"Do it again, I didn't know you could be so loud."

Your cheeks suddenly felt like they caught on fire as you quickly shifted your head to the side. "I-I don't know what you're talking about- Oh!" There it was again, this time thanks to the curling of Sebastion's skilled fingers inside your warm pussy rather than his surprisingly talented tongue. He began to wonder how many more times you would make that noise for him, how long you'd be able to make those noises from him until you were too fucked dumb in order to say anything else.

Sebastion then started to lightly nip at the insides of your thighs, gently calling your attention back to him as a smirk crawled onto his lips. "Y/N..." Sebastion whispered only for your ears to hear.

"How many more times can you make that cute noise~?"

Sam

Oh, he's blushing.

Before the two of you started dating, the only thing Sam knew about you was that you were the quiet and sweet-hearted farmer who was eager to help everyone. There weren't any rumors of you getting upset with anyone or raising your voice a single time!

And he loved it.

To the point where it developed into a perverted fantasy of his to hear you moan just once. That fantasy served as his favorite jerk-off material inside his head as he's creamed in his pants more than a few times because of it.

So, when you two started having sex with one another and he managed to get a loud whine from you?

He was hooked from there.

♡ - "Y/N?" Sam said to you, sweat dripping from his brow as his thrusts slowed. "What was that?"

You would've thought he was asking a mundane question about the weather with how innocent it sounded. As if he weren't just plowing into your cunt just a second ago. As you dazedly opened your eyes to look into his blue orbs, wide and practically gleaming with the eagerness of an over-excited dog. You slowly licked your top lick as you tried to find your words.

The only ones you could find were- "I-I don't know..." You panted.

Immediately, a frown came onto Sam's lips as he resumed his movements, his grip tightening on your love handles and thus restarting your loud moans bouncing off the walls.

"What do you mean, you don't know?" He questioned.

"You're making the noise right now! It's not good to lie..." Sam continued as he eyed your tits bouncing from underneath him, his cheeks somehow turning an even deeper shade of red as all he wanted to do was suck on them. But, he had an even bigger mission in front of him.

To make sure that you never hid your pretty moans again.

They were everything he had ever wanted to hear since he had developed a crush on you! To hear something different come from those pretty lips of yours that he fisted his cock to every other night since before you two started dating...now he finally had what he wanted, he couldn't just let you hide them and act like nothing happened!

"Fuuucckkk..." Sam moaned, drool dribbling out the side of his mouth as he relished in your pussy. Whiny 'aht aht ahts' leaving your lips as your cunt tightened around his dick.

"Don't ever hide your noises from me again babe~"

Alex

Not very surprised tbh.

Alex would've probably assumed there had to have been a crack under that quiet, seemingly "perfect" facade of yours. And before you two were dating, he was doing almost everything to find it.

Teasing you, trying to say certain words in order to fluster you and even being (respectfully) touchy with you via bumping into you and placing a hand on your arm from time to time.

Still, you didn't crack once.

He almost gave up until one fateful night when you were at the beach and he came across you. One meaningful talk later and you were somewhere in the forest against a tree and him behind you, pulling you onto his cock repeatedly like a man starved.

Safe to say, you were making noises then.

♡ - When you let out a whiney "Alex~!". He didn't stop even for a moment.

Oh no, he continued pistoning into your sloppy pussy as you struggled to hold yourself against a tree somewhere deep within Cindersap forest. Yet, all he could ever think about was how much he longed to hear those noises since the first moment you two met.

How many nights he spent in his bedroom imagining the shy farmer underneath him or on top of him as he fucked you until you scarcely remembered your own name. Now? It was finally a reality, and with more fire than his imagination could ever hope to recreate.

"Fuck yeah farmer," Alex smirked to himself as he grabbed your ass, using the grip his other hand had upon your hip to slam you further down his throbbing dick. "Bet you didn't even hear yourself, huh? I know you didn't." He continued to talk, not even caring if you were coherent enough to hear what he was saying as your moans only increased in pitch and frequency while your slick started to drip down the front of his thighs.

"'Cause if you did-" A drawn-out groan interrupted his line of speech as you suddenly clenched around him. A loud keening noise leaving your lips as his jaw dropped in shock at your squirt splashing against where you two were joined.

Oh, now he definitely needed to fuck you again.

"Fuck farmer, didn't know you were a squirter~" He smirked as he leaned forward a little to take your chin into his hand, shaking your head like you were a ragdoll to make you come to a little.

"H-Huh...?" You said dazedly.

He pressed a chaste kiss to your temple, a cocky laugh leaving his lips as his hips started to move again. "Don't worry farmer, we have all night to recreate those cute moans again...as well as you squirting on my dick again..."

Harvey

I think that he'd be blushing and would be just as embarrassed as you would be.

Harvey may be knowledgeable about female anatomy since he's a doctor but he's not experienced in personally having sex. I think that would make him think that he's not exactly 'good enough' to make the well-known quiet farmer let out a loud moan.

Once he managed to though (and did a quick check-in to make sure he didn't do anything wrong and it was actually pleasurable for you) he's definitely going to repeat the action over and over without fault.

Anything for his pretty spouse.

♡ - Harvey looked up at you like a confused little puppy when you made those noises, his brown eyes wide from shock and curiosity as he studied your facial expressions for a beat.

He didn't think this would ever happen.

He was content in your soft moans and quiet pleas for him to continue his ministrations whenever you two would become intimate. He never thought you would be loud in bed with him and he was fine with that! So long as you weren't in pain and you were enjoying him, he didn't need a louder moan or needier whine to spur him to continue.

But...he wouldn't deny that the absolute hunger that was in his name when you said it a little bit louder than usual. Your hand gripping his wrist in a need to try and ground yourself, the covers on the bed no longer seeming to do it for you. This moment...he could find himself becoming addicted to it easily. "Y-Y/N?" Harvey broke the silence as he moved up a little to better look into your eyes, to double-check to make sure you weren't in any pain.

"...Are you okay? I didn't hurt you, right?" He asked hesitantly as you slowly opened your eyes to look at him.

Your breath was fast but soft, almost like a rabbit's as you looked at him as if he hung the very moon and stars for you and you alone. "I-I'm fine..." You said, your eyes following him as he went back to his position between your thighs, his fingers slowly returning to his task as they grazed your pussy.

Your thighs twitched at the contact. "Why'd you stop...?" You asked, a little impatient. "Keep going."

Oh, he planned to.

"Sorry," Harvey said as he pressed a gentle kiss just a little under your navel as his fingers plunged into your pussy once more, curling just enough so that they rubbed against that sweet spot inside your cunt. Teasing but juuussttt enough to make you ache and crave for more, to make your pussy drip. "Just had to make sure you were okay." He continued as he finger-fucked you, his lips pressing against the inside of your thighs appreciatively as he listened to the needy squelching of your pussy.

He'd keep going, again and again and again.

So long as he got to hear more sounds from you.

Shane

Imma add in my two cents to the dom Shane crowd and say that Shane would be confident but in a less 'dude-bro' way. (like Alex)

He wouldn't be shocked. He's had a few one-night stands here and there, and would definitely know his way around. Man or woman.

So when you let out a symphony of pleasurable screams when he was rearranging your insides, your hands gripping onto your pillows for dear life. He didn't dare ease up or take a minute to let yourself notice that you were letting out such lewd noises.

He just kept on moving, silently committing each moan, whine, and scream to memory.

♡ - Your face was deep in your pillow when you let out a drawn-out scream as you came around Shane's dick. A creamy ring starting to form as Shane continued to fuck you through your orgasm.

He always knew you were capable of it, being louder and no longer abiding by that 'shy, quiet little farmer' title that the town liked to place on you. From the moment you talked to him when you were a few days into being in Pelican Town, a thought flashed through his mind that begged to know the answer to a question that plagued him for a while now...

Were you just as quiet in bed?

A fleeting question at first until he really started to take notice of your figure. Plush thighs and a soft stomach, a cute full face, and doe eyes, those features all serving to make his cock as hard as diamond as you became the face in his imagination when he jerked off at night.

Now that you two were dating, however...he no longer had to imagine or wonder.

He simply had to fuck you right and press the right buttons in order to get you to make the sounds that he desperately wanted to hear.

"Fuck Y/N..." Shane moaned as his grip tightened upon your ass, both fucking you faster and trying to control your squirming through your overstimulation. "Always knew that quiet shit was a fucking farce, you just needed to get fucked right, yeah? Cute lil' slut."

When you turned your head to look behind you with teary eyes, he sucked in a breath as a smirk came onto his lips. He'd take that as a 'yes' to his answer. "Fuuckkk...I'm right aren't I?" He said.

"Seems like I'm finally lucky in this town, eh? Cute farmer begging for the local drunk's dick. Bet this is why you started talking to me in the first place."

"N-No...." You said with a dumb smile coming onto your lips after. "O-Only you..."

"Eh? You only talked to me for me?" He leaned down as he said that, hiding his pinkening cheeks via tucking his face into your neck, excusing his actions by sucking hickeys onto your skin. "Cute."

"Almost makin' me want to go easy your ass." Immediately, he contradicted his words as his thrusts sped up. His groans and grunts began to shift into quick yet deep gasps as he felt his orgasm approaching. "...Not that I will, we still have allll night~"

Bonus! Mr. Qi

He's very playful when you let out a noise you or him didn't think you were capable of making.

He'll tease you and question why you didn't make such a sound earlier. The quiet and sweet farmer? Not making a sound, even though he didn't fully believe that himself, he wouldn't deny that he was in the process of doing so seeing as it really seemed that way from your past sexual encounters!

But, when his cock finally pressed against the right spot against your twitching walls?

He definitely wasn't going to let you live that down, he's talking your ear off the entire time as you're losing your voice over his dick.

♡ - "Ohoho...care to make that noise again farmer~?"

Of all the explorations he's been on all the secrets and mysteries he's unraveled within this valley and beyond...his favorite and most enjoyable journey has been with you. Even when you first arrived to the valley, talk of the late farmer's quiet grandchild spreading like wildfire, he was interested in you!

You challenged yourself and had morals he could get behind.

He didn't even realize he was taking a more...intimate interest in you until you happened upon him one day and he saw you in the flesh for the first time, your cute body and shy demeanor captivating him similarly to a drug.

And now...now that he has you underneath him, pressing your hands against his chest in an attempt to ground yourself as his cock rubbed deliciously against your walls. He was most definitely hooked, even more so now that he has unraveled yet another mystery.

The mystery of whether or not you were capable of being loud in bed or not.

Qi pressed a kiss to your cheek as he pressed your legs further down, your knees nearly touching your ears as the blue-skinned man fucked you in a tight mating press. "I knew there had to be something lewd under that delicate appearance you tried to maintain," He whispered in your ear, a teasing lilt to his voice.

"Though, not very fair of you farmer to keep it hidden away from me for so long!" He chuckled when you cracked open your eyes, your vision dazed and blurry from your tears as you heard nothing but white noise in your ears.

Not that he minded much, he'd have all the time in the world to recount your cute voice to you later...

[vainvenus]

⌲;꒰ Wonka Welcome! ꒱

Pairing :: Willy Wonka x Fem!Reader

Synopsis :: There's a new bakery in town and Wonka stops by to give the owner a warm welcome.

Includings :: Slight spoilers, events happen after the movie, Wonka speaking nonsense/being illiterate, him pulling shit out of hat, slight flirting, this is really short (im just trying to dump my drafts), nothing but fluff

An :: "He's the worst Wonka" ok but he's the hottest so send requests!

"What's that you got there, Noodle?"

Willy questioned, brows furrowed but eyes full of curiosity as Noodle walked back into the shop. She had a small tart-like thing in her hand, a few crumbs dusted across her chin as she licked her fingers.

It was small yet colorful, some sort of filling under a few fruits as Noodle held it out to the brunette to take a bite.

"A tart."

He hummed, taking a bite from it and his eyes went wide as he hummed again after tasting it. The crust had a perfect crisp taste to it, the fruit each tasting perfectly ripe.

"Delicious! Did you make that all on your own? How? Where?"

Noodle shook her head as she finished the rest of it, wiping her fingers down on the bottom of her pants. "Not me. There's a baker, she just opened up across from us, don't know how you haven't noticed."

"What!?"

Will practically teleported over to the window, hands pressed against it like a child who was passing his shop for the first time. His eyes were glistening as he saw there was a Bakery shop positioned right across from him.

"Well, I think I ought to say hello! Give her a warm Wonka welcome!" He hummed, adjusting his top hat as he walked out the doors and across the street.

He looked up, eyes scanning across the shop's sign and he narrowed them a bit. Noodle had been continuing to teach him how to read but of course, he still had a few issues.

"[Mispronounced version of name]'s blissful bakes." He muttered to himself before pushing the door open, the sound of a bell chiming above him as he did so.

"Welcome! Menu's right above me and you can order when you're ready." He heard a soft voice chirp.

He walked a bit closer, seeing a girl wearing a simple outfit with a white apron that had red hearts printed all over it. Her hair styled in [hairstyle]/wrapped up. She was mixing something in a bowl before turning around.

She turned her head to Willy and he had felt his heart stutter for a second when their eyes had met and a smile automatically grew across his face.

"Oh! You're the Willy Wonka, right?"

"The one and only, ma'am!"

"It's so nice to finally meet you!" She set the bowl down, walking back to the front counter as she held out her hand. "I'm [Y/n]."

Oh. That's how it was pronounced, he thought it seemed a bit odd when he said it out loud earlier.

He took her hand, turning it so he could place a soft kiss upon the back of her palm. "A pleasure! I can't believe we haven't talked yet!"

"I'm a homebody. I don't roam around town too much unless it's to get here or more ingredients." She answered and he had nodded.

"Well, I believe a warm Wonka welcome is far overdue."

"A warm Wonka welcome? Just what is that?" She asked, smiling a bit out of amusement.

"This!" Willy exclaimed, taking off his hat as reaching his hand into it and pulled out a chocolate bouquet of flowers even equipped with a chocolate bow.

[Y/n]'s eyes widened with surprise as she smiled and took them, surprised that they weren't sticky at all but felt as if they had been in the fridge.

She had broke off one of the petals from the chocolate rose, popping it into her mouth. She hummed in satisfaction as she grabbed another.

"Oh my god. This is the best chocolate I've ever had."

"Thank you! I get that a lot." Wonka smiled and she had giggled, taking another bite of the bouquet.

"Please, let me give you a warm welcome as well. Choose anything and it's on the house."

The brunette tilted his head, brows furrowing a bit. "Why would it be on your house?"

"Huh?" Her expression matched his confusion as she shook her head. "No- that just means it's free!"

"Ohhh." His eyes scanned the menu, there were a lot of choices he honestly felt a bit overwhelmed. He finally decided, pointing to it.

"What're you pointing at me for?"

"Can I not have you?" He asked, his tone a bit playful as he leaned against the counter with a smug smile.

"Why don't you pick something actually on a menu?" She giggled, rolling her eyes playfully and he chuckled.

"Alright, alright." He hummed. "How about one of your tarts? One with strawberries, blueberries and kiwis."

"Alright, one tart coming right your way."

[chronicbeans]

Romantic Yandere Lucifer x Reader Headcanons

I've been tossing this idea around in my brain for days lol.

TW: Yandere Behavior, Obsessive and Possessive Thoughts, Panic and Anxiety, Depression, Blood and Injuries, Denial, Overprotective Behavior

• When he first met you, it was when he visited the Hazbin Hotel upon Charlie's request. You were sitting at the table with the rest of the staff and guests, acting the most... Well, normal out of all of them, besides Husk. You smiles and waved his way once Charlie mentioned your name.

• It wasn't like those fairy tales, where it is love at first sight. No, he had to talk to you, of course. After everybody else introduced themselves to him, you walk over to him, shake his hand, and introduce yourself. "Hello, your majesty! My name's (Y/N)! It's nice to meet you!" That's when he falls for you. Throughout the small conversation you both have, you treat him like... well, a normal person. Or, at least, as normal as you can treat the King of Hell, himself.

• The moment he leaves and returns home, he feels extremely guilty for falling for you. Especially since it was so quick, and for such a simple reason. He barely knows you! Why can't he stop thinking about you? He silently vows to never go back to the hotel, not because he doesn't support Charlie, but because he's scared of falling for you even more. However... Calling Charlie and asking about the Hazbin Hotel doesn't sound too bad, yes?

• Soon, asking about the hotel turns to asking about the people there... which, in turn, means asking about you. How have you been doing? Have you shown any interest in the activities and workshops at the hotel? What interests do you have. Of course, Lucifer asks the same questions about everybody else, to not seem suspicious, but he's mostly just interested in you...

• He only falls even more as he hears about you. Lucifer hates himself for it. So, he begins to distance himself, again. He goes back to making his rubber ducks, trying to distract himself from his thoughts about you. However, over time, his ducks slowly began having features that remind him of you. You like drawing? Duckie with a pencil and paper. Singing? Duckie that plays music. His mind can't escape you.

• Once the exterminators show, and the fight with Adam commences, he sees you again. Not in the best condition, either. The dust settles, Niffty absolutely brutalizes Adam, and now everybody is looking for you and Alastor. As Lucifer wanders the area in a frantic search for you, he happens to notice a battered hand sticking out from underneath some rubble. Moving it out of the way, he's now in a panic as he realizes it's you. You're alive, thankfully, albeit heavily injured and hanging on by a thread. That, and passed out.

• The next few minutes are spent with him becoming way too protective over you, holding you in his arms and becoming extremely defensive. His obsessive crush has finally reached more twisted levels, and he's mortified by the thought of letting you out of his sight. Even Charlie is starting to catch on that something is not quite... right about her dad. He's holding you tightly and not letting anybody come near you, despite the fact that you clearly need help. Then again, his angelic powers could probably be used to help you heal, but the point still stands. The only person who's allowed to come close is Charlie, and even then, he's keeping a close eye.

• He's now by your side constantly while you're recovering. He almost lost you! It's a very sudden change in his behavior, considering how he bottled up all of his feelings for you for so long... Nobody even knew he cared about you in specific, much less this much. Whenever you wake up in your bed, staring at the hotel, he's the first person you see. Whenever you fall asleep, he's the last thing you see. He's there throughout the entirety of the day, acting much more like your caregiver than your friend's dad. Bringing you food, getting you water, getting you some blankets and pillows... He's even taking care of changing your bloodied bandages out for new ones.

• At first, you just assumed that he was worried and wanted to help you recover. It'd make sense. You almost died, after all. The behavior doesn't stop after you're fully recovered, though... in fact, it gets worse, somehow. He makes sure that you aren't in danger, be it real or perceived. Somebody who he doesn't know talking to you is just as big of a threat in his eyes as somebody pointing a gun at your face. He's immediately standing by your side, glaring the stranger down.

• He may not be that intimidating, but he's the King of Hell. Many people know how strong he is, even if they don't find him to actually be intimidating to look at. So, they back off, usually. Those who don't get a brief look at his demon form, before getting knocked out. No, no... He doesn't kill them. He can't kill anybody when you are around. He'll wait until later.

• He's a yandere that would never cross any physical boundaries with you. He's spent years isolating himself from people, so as sad as it is to say, he's pretty used to not getting any sort of affection. He doesn't need compliments, hugs, or cuddles ( at least, that's what he tells himself). However, if and when you start showing affection towards him, he's going to need it constantly. He needs reassurance, comfort, a shoulder to cry on, somebody to give affection to... And you are now the only person he feels he's able to do so, with.

• He's going to want to own your soul, so be on the lookout for any tricks he might pull. Well, it's more correct to say he doesn't want to own your soul, but feels like he must. He doesn't like the idea of being in a relationship with such an intense power dynamic, but he's so frightened by the idea that Heaven might take you away, that he feels that he simply must own your soul. He feels that, if he does, it's less likely you'd even be able to go to Heaven, since you're technically owned by him. And he knows he's never going up. Even you just mentioning Heaven throws him into a panic... Don't say that word, alright?

[curtins]

DITTO — Gojo Satoru a rewrite of this post.

prologue. → brave, lucky, courageous. these are the words that people bestow upon you when the dust has cleared, and the king of curses is no more. you disagree, for if you were lucky, gojo satoru would still be standing at your side. instead you've been left to stare at the ocean shoreline on your own, without your best friend (the love of your life) by your side.

pairing. gojo satoru x afab!reader

warnings+. unfulfilled/unresolved love. angst, hurt, comfort, fluff. your usual shenanigans. sfw! implied, minor satosugu (mb because geto is my beautiful sad princess and i love him so he has to be a part of everything). pining, idiots in love. grief, and what you do after you've lost what you treasure the most etc u get it. reader is from an unnamed clan, has a younger brother. reader also wears skirts, dresses sometimes, character death + injury

word count. 11k! 😭 song inspiration. ditto — newjeans / 뉴진스 (2022) a/n. i wrote rough headcanons and posted them yesterday but i woke up thinking dang i should actually write something better about that lmao. update: i thought i'd finish this in a few hours, why did this take me like 2 days? update #2: dawg this is long as fuck...this kinda depressed me to write CROSSPOSTED ON AO3 <3 💙

mp3. do you think about me now, yeah. all the time...

✉️ — 1995. 💬 — gojo.

these meeting rooms were hushed, grand, and the kind of place that simply swallowed up any sound and echo; where the wood-panelled walls were lined with the tapestries and polished symbols of his clan.

and in the hush, gojo had sat cross-legged on the tatami mat, trying to listen to the conversation of the adults, with their low and steady voices that droned on. this was so boring. they were always speaking of things that he just couldn't understand, but his parents said these meetings were important, and so he was dragged along - much to his eternal chagrin. still, he shifted in place, glancing around at the detailed screens painting around the corners of the room, in varying shades of blue.

across the room, there was another kid. one who sat beside her father, fidgeting just as he was. and gojo could tell by the way that you kept glancing towards the door that you, too, longed to escape. your gaze caught his, and there was that flicker of mutual boredom that sparked between you two. you had scrunched up her nose, as if to say 'this is so boring, isn't it?'

gojo grinned, stifling a giggle. he had leaned back, just a little, surveying the adults who paid no heed to him, before letting himself inch across the rough texture of the mat towards the door.

"do you want to see the garden?" he mouthed silently, his words exaggerated and slow, so you would understand.

your eyes had lit up, and you nodded, just as your father (well, he assumed it was her father) leaned down to whisper something in your ear, his voice a low rumble that was far too quiet for gojo to catch. you were nodding obediently, but your eyes were now fixed with the glimmer of excitement, and he quickly held the door open for you as you scrambled out the door, following him quietly as they creaked down the long hallway.

and soon, they reached the back of the estate, where the garden stretched out like a hidden oasis, filled with the flowering bushes, the winding stone paths, and the pond that glistened in the morning light. suddenly, he stopped by the edge of the pond, brushing pale hair out of his stinging eyes, "i'm satoru, by the way."

you had sat down quickly, as though the long walk had winded her (gojo had barely needed to stop to catch is breath), and your robes dipped into the pond, letting the water seep up slowly, "i've heard of you. my parents say you're an only child."

gojo shrugged, trying to think of something important he could tell you, "it's not so bad. one day, i'm going to be the head of my clan," puffing up his chest a little.

you had nodded, "i would like to be too, but my younger brother would get it. because...you know."

gojo didn't quite know but he nodded like he understood, and he tried to think of something smarter to say, "well the job isn't that fun anyway. it's just sitting around reading papers, and telling people what to do."

you had pouted, frowning, "i want to tell people what to do all day. and i would get the nicest robes too as clan head."

and you had looked so unhappy at the prospect that you were being robbed of a stellar wardrobe that gojo made up his mind, right then and there, "tell you what, when i become my clan head, i'll make sure you get the nicest robes, how's that?"

your face had lit up, holding your little pinky up to his, "promise?"

gojo linked his finger with hers, sealing this silly vow and laughing, "why not?"

✉️ — 1996. 💬 — you.

when you're seven years old, you’ve resigned yourself to trailing behind gojo, watching as your friend takes on the world with the same reckless, eager energy that he seems to pour into everything that he does.

his voice has picked up a confidence that you haven't felt yet, and there's a permanent, flashy grin on his face that says he doesn't care what anyone thinks about him, not his parents, nor his clan.

and today, gojo's decided that the old shrine on the edge of your family estate needs exploring. you're a little less certain, especially since your father had told you that this shrine was haunted, but you find yourself following the boy anyway, and there's that silent agreement in place: he leads, you follow. you're alright with that, that's just the way it's always been.

he's dressed, as usual, in a loose grey hoodie that's two sizes too big for him, and his jeans have a hole in the knee; some small rebellion against his clan's strict sense of tradition. even his hair is awfully emssy, tousled and getting a little too long, and you know he hates it when his mother tries to comb it down, and you easily suspect that gojo just ruffles it on purpose to get a reaction out of those around him. he probably does everything on purpose for a round of reactions, honestly.

you, on the other hand, have your nicest lilac skirt on, and there's a small bow in your hair that the maidservants had pinned themselves (your mother had been too deep in her cups all morning). but you had fluttered around, feeling quite pretty in your skirt; like you were a fairy that would sprout wings and live in the clouds.

gojo glances back at you, and rolls his eyes, "you know, you look like you're going to one of the clan meetings," he mutters, but there's a playful glint in his eye. he's pulled a twig from the ground, and he's waving it around like a sword, slicing through imaginary enemies as he marches forward like an idiot.

you just shrug, quietly watching him cut through the tall grass ahead, "i like looking nice," you mumble, a little embarrassed. you can feel the careful way the sweet, old servant (she turned seventy last week!) had arranged your hair, and the press of the bow keeping it every lock in place.

"well, if you ever decide to look like you're not on your way to sit for a court painting, let me know," gojo says, smirking (he thinks he's funny) as he waves his 'sword' around, battling on the false frontlines.

but despite yourself, you laugh, and quicken your pace to keep up with him, and so, gojo slows just a bit, enough that you're walking side by side now, and his arm brushes against yours.

"did you know that they say that this shrine is spooked?" he asks, his voice falling to a dramatic whisper.

"i live here, satoru. obviously, duh," and the shrine comes into view, and it's small, weathered with age, but to you, it looks grand and mysterious, even magical, "do you believe it's haunted?"

gojo shrugs, unfazed, "nah, probably just an old rock. but it would be cool if it was. maybe, we'll see a ghost."

now you've taken a hesitant step back, but gojo just grins, grabbing your wrist and pulling you forward, and his hand is warm and steady in yours.

"c'mon, don't be a chicken," he teases, laughing as he drags you closer, and you plant your feet firmly in the ground, watching as clouds begin to roll over the sky, ominous and gloomy.

oh, this place is definitely haunted. your father was right, it's so over for you now. a massive, ugly curse is going to pop out and eat you alive, and steal your pretty hair bow. you mutter a small prayer under your breath. gojo satoru, you will pay for this.

✉️ — 2000. 💬 — you.

you'd always heard whispers about yourself from the other kids, how you were too quiet, or you tried far too hard to be perfect — unwilling to roughhouse the way they did. perhaps they were right, and it was true that you preferred to sit alone. you think it was the feeling of order you enjoyed, of a world you could control, even if it was just through lines on a piece of paper.

but today, their voices were louder than usual. a small group had gathered near the cherry blossom tree where you'd settle yourself, and they circled around like hungry wolves sniffing out something they could tear apart.

one girl wrinkled her nose and called you prissy (well, okay) and another boy had snickered and muttered that you were so boring, and it was a wonder that you even had a friend like gojo.

ouch.

their words felt like small, precise cuts, sharper than expected. you had heard these things before. after all, everyone had reached the age where they were aware of their abilities, their techniques as jujutsu sorcerers.

you didn't mind your own technique, making sure to channel time and energy to learn so you could grow up and be as good as your father one day (a well established sorcerer in his own right, if a bit out of shape).

but you didn't have to be very smart to know that gojo's abilities stood out entirely in a different way, and you heard your parents whisper in hushed tones at how lucky his clan was to have a child like that. with the right training and moulding, he could be the most powerful man to walk the earth.

how silly. gojo was all laughs, and smiles, and stupid jokes and bright, clever eyes. you thought it was dumb how they all spoke about an eleven year old boy like he was a weapon, kept in its sheath until it was ready to be drawn.

but of course, all the kids wanted to be friends with him instead. and today, these barbs hurt more — and you kept your eyes down, clutching your books a bit tighter, willing for these supposed 'friends' of yours to go away.

but before you could say anything, you heard his stomps.

"hey!"

gojo's voice was unmistakable, sharp and sudden as he clamoured over, all brashness and bravado. he had gotten a bad haircut recently (entirely his own fault for thinking he could put scissors to his own hair, but you had laughed so hard as he swore curses) so white tufts stuck out all over his head, making him look like he got stuck in a wall socket, even crazier than usual.

but gojo didn't look at you, just planted himself between you and the group, bruised fists clenched (they trained him too hard), and shoulders set, "what's your problem?"

the other kids stammered, clearly surprised, but that didn't stop him, he who looked like a small, lanky and angry polar bear.

"you think you're so funny? talking like that? say it again, and i'll knock your teeth out."

"ah, satoru -" you ran your tongue behind your teeth, the last thing everyone needed was another fight of bruised pride, and yanked hair, rolling around in the dust.

but one of the boys had muttered something under his breath, taking a half-step back. the others followed, shuffling, rolling their eyes and looking anywhere but at you and gojo.

and your best friend didn't move until they had scattered completely, leaving behind only the faint echos of their derision as they fled. and then he turned to you, his scowl fading into something kinder (good, you didn't like seeing him so upset) as he dropped onto the bench, beside you, pulling his knee up onto the bench so he could rest his chin against it casually.

"they're just idiots," he said, rolling his eyes, and his voice was softer, playful again, "don't listen to them."

you gave him a small smile, nodding, as the knot in chest loosened a little, "i wasn't really listening to them," you murmured, even though you probably knew that was a bold-faced lie.

gojo released a loud laugh, much too loud and forced, as he nudged you with his elbow, and he must have known it too, but he was smiling, "good, that's the spirit."

You managed a small smile, nodding, the knot in your chest loosening a little.

the world was quiet again as you both sat in silence, the soft breeze ruffling the grass and the cherry blossoms overhead. and then, with a shyer glance, you managed to look over at your friend, watching as messy tufts of his snowy hair moved ever so slightly in the breeze.

"thanks, 'toru," you said, quietly, but he just shrugged it off, brushing it away as though it was nothing.

"hey, what am i here for?"

✉️ — 2003. 💬 — you.

gojo was sprawled across your wide bed, looking at you as if you were the most ridiculous person in the entire world. his own suitcase sat beside him, already paced with the very few things he needed, and now he watched you with that eager, restless gleam in his blue eyes, like he could barely sit still.

"you're so overthinking this," he said, bright voice full of impatience, "just throw some stuff in a bag, and we're good to go. it's just tokyo, not the end of the world."

you scowled at the boy, holding up two sweaters; one sensible in a shade of pale blue, and the other thick, deep red and woollen, "but what if it gets cold? or rains?"

gojo rolled his eyes, throwing his head back dramatically onto your pillow, hands behind his head as he sprawled around like a snooty prince with all the time in the world.

"it's summer, it's tokyo, and it's not like we're moving to america," he smiled, "besides, if you pack any slower, we'll miss our first year."

you tried to brush it off, and something about his easy confidence made you feel a sharp twinge of nerve. this was really happening, you were truly leaving the bounds of your family estates, stepping out into the world, to attend jujutsu tech, a school in tokyo that you had heard so much about. well, there was another school here, in kyoto, but god, it would just be nice to get out of these ancient walls.

and yet -

gojo simply looked like he couldn't wait to shake the dust of his home off his sneakers, you felt something pull at you, like a sudden-appearing string that tied you to your home city, and it wouldn't let you go.

your best friend had caught the look on your face, and softened — just a bit, as he twiddled with a brand new pair of sunglasses, and he sat up closer, watching you carefully, "you're really going to miss it here, aren't you?"

and you shrugged, fidgeting with the sleeves of the red sweater, "i don't know. maybe, i suppose. don't you feel that way at all, satoru?"

he shook his head, resolute, "not even a little," but he saw your uncertainty, "listen, you'll be fine. you'll love tokyo. and hey," he nudged you gently with his knee, "i'll be right there with you anyway."

you appreciated that his confidence felt like a promise, something that you could at least hold onto, even in the big capital, and with a big, exaggerated sigh you tossed both sweaters into the suitcase.

"finally!"

✉️ — 2003. 💬 — gojo.

the both of you had arrived, bright-eyed and tired, as he clambered off the tall bus that had parked on the outskirts of tokyo, where jujutsu high was located.

gojo stood beside you, hands stuffed in his denim pockets, plastering a disinterested expression on his face. but he couldn't help how his eyes flittered to the sid,e underneath the dark shades of his glasses, watching you fawn over another new student, another boy who had arrived from some small town, who-knows-where, from a non-sorcerer family.

geto suguru.

well it was no lie that gojo liked him a lot too. there was no denying that he seemed polite, clever, maybe a bit shy. and effortlessly cool.

gojo had grown up in the stifling, grand estates of the big clans, constantly fussed over, and robed in fine silks printed with his clan motifs. all of those stuffy rules would sit, push around and make space in one's head, like a constant mantra from the elders.

he didn't need to look at you too closely to see what was going on, and he could tell right away, just from how you reacted. your smile stretched wider, and your eyes lit up like you were meeting someone who you really wanted to talk to.

geto who hadn't even changed into his uniform yet, with his stray strands of dark hair falling out of the knot on the back of his head, looking politely aloof, but cheerful, in worn black jeans and converse, and some baggy band t-shirt that would get gojo scolded by his mother for even wearing that inside the estate.

gojo noticed everything, especially the way your fingers slipped up to tuck your hair behind your ear when geto grinned at you (all because you’d recognised the band on his t-shirt, so what?) he saw how your eyes brightened, like geto suguru had unlocked some hidden code only you could decipher.

it annoyed him to realise that geto's calm, quiet charm was exactly the kind of thing you’d be drawn to. that’s what you liked, wasn’t it? the understated, thoughtful types who let the world come to them. not the loudmouth who cracked jokes at every opportunity, hoping to pull a laugh from his best friend.

well, fuck, he had to be a part of this too now.

✉️ — 2005. 💬 — both.

gojo's new obsession had a sleek, silver body and an olympus logo stamped on it in black, a camera that he'd been itching to buy; refusing to settle for anything less than the latest model. suddenly, he was determined to capture tokyo through his own eyes, and you and your friends had quickly become his reluctant muses on an impromptu day trip to the ameya-yokocho market.

"stop! stay right there, don't move! fuck, no! a little to the left!"

he waved his hands around, motioning for everyone to gather just as he wanted. you all exchanged amused glances, with shoko huffing around dramatically, as gojo crouched down on his long legs, then stood back up, and then crouched down again, as one of jujutsu high's most powerful sorcerers struggled to bring a camera into focus.

eventually, geto had laughed — raven hair falling over his beautiful face, and had gotten up to help gojo, fiddling with the lens as the rest of you milled around.

and then, suddenly gojo turned the camera directly on you. he pointed his finger your way, wide grin half-hidden but unmistakably earnest, 'c'mon, turn that frown upside down!'

he needn't have said a word, just seeing your best friend there, with his hair tousled and carefree grin, with the camera strap hanging off his neck, was enough to make you laugh, the kind that felt as bright as it sounded.

and so, you found yourself standing in the middle of the bustling market street, surrounded by friends and fellow students, and the lively hum of the weekend crowds, as you looked directly into the lens, with your smile softening under his gaze, as though the rest of the world had blurred into the background.

afterwards, gojo had taken a good look at the photo, and he didn't say much, but the look on his face lingered, almost like he was seeing something that he wasn't sure he was allowed to hold onto. you had shyly asked him later, coming up beside his shoulder, whether he had printed a spare copy of the photo, but he shook his head with the lie rolling off his tongue.

love was a selfish endeavour, to its core. he wasn’t about to tell you that he wanted to keep that photo for himself. and later, when no-one was looking, he slipped the small print into his wallet, right between his train pass and some spare change.

✉️ — 2006. 💬 — you.

your best friend, your dear satoru, had always been resilient; the kind of guy who threw himself at life with reckless energy, shrugging off injuries like they were just a part of the ride. he'd laugh off a scraped knee or a bloodied lip, flashing that cocky grin and a shrug as if pain was something for other people.

life for you went on, with your own routines and small moments. you learnt long ago that you didn't quite possess the natural, raw sheer jujutsu power that gojo had (or geto for that matter) but you could certainly hold your own in a scuffle. regardless, you had chosen to turn to academics, flitting between classes and study sessions, arm in arm with sweet shoko.

there was joy in sneaking off campus with friends, or scrolling through lists of new albums to download onto your mp3 player (you had been partial to the south korean boyband, tvxq!).

and so, life seemed both incredibly mundane and slightly electric, with days marked by shy smiles and inside jokes, with walks home on the streets wet from the spring rain.

but it had been late summer when gojo had returned from that last mission, when the days were still long and hot and the afternoons were bathed in a thick, heavy amber. and he had come back...different.

he moved carefully, as though each step was suspicious and took more effort than he'd let on, and his usual bright glimmer was dimmed, his laughter quiet, and his smiles withheld like a rare currency. he'd sit through the long evenings with you, in silence more often than not, hands stuffed into his wide pockets as he stared at a place that you just couldn't reach.

when you'd catch him alone in the courtyard after class, he'd be training hard, working through his cursed techniques with a relentless focus, perfecting each hand gesture as if he could shake off whatever shadow lingered behind him. and sometimes, he'd stay for hours after school, practicing beneath the dying and dusty light of the last days of summer, as if he could not afford to stop, to rest.

“gojo?” you called, hesitating as he finished a strike to some poor unsuspecting pile of soda cans, leaving them obliterated in the heat. “what's going on with you?”

he paused mid-motion, glancing at you, his face carefully blank. and you hated that, you hated how the flicker of distress would pass from his face before being schooled into that carefully constructed mask of 'the strongest.'

i love you, idiot. i love you, i love you, tell me what's bothering you and i will help, you're my best friend.

but these words never saw the light of day, always curling up and choking up in your throat, and instead being twisted into feigned, casual interest. losing the cloak of deep devotion that you held for a friend of ten years.

"oh - hey! nothing," gojo replied, too quickly, with that half-cocked smile that painted over his pink lips, "nothing that deep."

lately, this repeated lie had been hanging in the air between you, clear as the last streaks of summer sunlight that would soon give way to fall.

you crossed your arms over your uniform, dark fabric crinkling, "you're not fooling anyone, you know. geto told me about the mission, he said that you —," you swallowed, with the words just as heavy as the steadfast beat of your heart that you kept under lock and key, "he said you shouldn't have come back. what does that even mean?"

gojo's face flickered again, just for a second, before he barked out that irritating, false chuckle, "guess it's a good thing you weren't sent on tengen's fuckin' mission then," before reaching out and snatching your strawberry milk carton from your hands with a grin.

after a few punctuated slurps and lip-smacking (just to watch your face redden in fury, gojo would admit) he spoke again, voice strained, "you'd probably be crying about it still."

"hey!" you protested, grabbing for the carton again, prying his slender fingers off your sweet treat, "i don't cry that easily."

"could've fooled me. you cried during that american movie about zoo animals."

"madagascar was a sad movie about displacement and the loss of home! i know animal rights activists hate to see your ass coming to the zoo."

gojo snickered, drawing out the words, "fuck that zebra," but now, he was looking off into the golden haze of a beautiful sunset, with that frayed grin, "seriously, though. it's fine, it's all in the past."

over time, gojo never spoke many a word about what happened to the star plasma vessel, but he just seemed to move forward, like he always had. his resolve somehow sharper, tighter, and his laughter more intense when it finally did return. there were moments when you'd catch him staring into the great expanse of nothing, haunted (but beautiful), though he'd just shrug and smile when you prodded him about.

✉️ — 2007. 💬 — gojo.

gojo thought he was astoundingly self-aware, in his own humble opinion. he never let anything get to him, that was the trick, you see. to take life as it came at you, to carry that fire and stubbornness and throw it back in the face of the trouble.

and so he wanted to be angry, to be furious. why had suguru done this? why?

he had known that geto, one of his dearest friends (one who always been so sure of himself) had fallen into disquiet lately, and even gojo had prodded him on whether he had lost weight through sleepless nights. but suguru would have just turned his head back to his book, lost in thought, with his dark hair loose around his face.

had he been blind? how had suguru's silence been covered by what gojo (privately) considered his own loud, defiant return? no, he knew of ghosts. he knew that some spirits and spectres could not be shaken, and sometimes when gojo himself closed his eyes, he could feel the sharp sting of an assassin's blade ramming through his throat, leaving him for dead.

but to murder over a hundred innocent people...

you had found him alone that evening, where he had sprawled over the stairs as the sunset blazed, painting them aglow in dusky hues. but gojo could barely notice any of this beauty, and so he just stared, lost in his thoughts that wouldn't settle.

(are you the strongest because you're satoru gojo? or are you satoru gojo because you're the strongest?)

he didn't hear you approach, until you placed a gentle hand on his shoulders, causing him to flinch, surprised out of his sorrowful reverie.

the warmth of your touch steadied him, and he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, and he wondered how you could always seem to know exactly when he needed you most.

but the thought twisted, sharp and bitter, for what if you would follow suguru the same way? had you not often looked at geto with light in your eyes? and you had never looked at him like that.

what if, someday, you left him the same way? what if you turned around and saw someone else worth following? he couldn't help his fists from clenching, tension rippling down his shoulders and painfully gripping his head.

"suguru..." his voice came out quieter than he meant, with a crack that he couldn't quite hide, and he heard you sharply inhale, "i can't believe he's gone. i don't know if...if i'll ever see him again. why would he -?"

you still didn't say anything, just tightening your hand on his shoulder. and satoru hated it. hated that he wanted to lean into the weight of your touch, hated that this is what being the strongest now entailed. that now he was plagued by fear, of losing you, of watching you slip through his fingers into another's orbit.

i'm only seventeen. what happened to my youth?

the thoughts are acidic, cynical and they leave him angry (with the world, with the higher ups, with himself, with his parents) and he can't help himself from blurting out the next question.

"did you like him?"

gojo tries to keep his tone light and casual, but he loathes how he sounds pleading, heavier. he feels the embarrassment of vulnerability shroud him as you meet his eyes, and he hates how your eyes are teary too.

you shouldn't cry. ever.

"like? as in like?"

"as in love," gojo mutters, "shoko said you did."

you sniff, and now your head is leaning on his shoulder and he can inhale the scent of your shampoo (apples? caramel?) and despite the crick in his neck, he lowers his shoulder further down so you are more comfortable.

"shoko talks too much sometimes," you laugh weakly, "but probably. i think i did."

gojo tries to tamper down the acrid lurch in his stomach, but you continue, "i think i did love him. but so did shoko. so did nanami, and haibara back when, -" you sigh, "and so did you. we all loved him. he was our friend."

his fingers had been hovering close to your hand for a while, almost as if he couldn't help himself, the pull. finally, he slid his smallest finger to let it curl around yours, drawing out a memory from over a decade ago.

"tell you what, when i become my clan head, i'll make sure you get the nicest robes, how's that?" "promise?" "why not?"

how silly that the hardest things in life had once been a bored child, and his new friend who fretted about her future wardrobe.

and when you clasped in hand entirely in its return, gojo's breath caught, his throat tightening. the words that he wanted to say, to spill from his throat, hovered in his mind but there was no infinite word strong enough to bring them out.

he wasn't an idiot, he wasn't daft and unobservant, he knew exactly what he wanted to say to you, to tell you from his lips to yours. but the way his heart laid itself bare in that moment unsettled him deeply, not the yearning itself, but how fierce it was. it disgusted him, the rawness of his desire, exposed right there in the open, where anyone could see it, including you. especially you.

with a realisation that was long coming, beneath the golden wash of the setting sun, he sighed deeply. if he ever lost you, if you ever looked at him with the same betrayal that he'd seen in suguru's eyes, he didn't know if he could survive it. it would cut deeper than his infinity could bear.

he tried speaking again, "if you ever -" but he doesn't get the chance to speak before you're leaning further into him, a quiet sniffle punctuating the silence.

"i won't."

✉️ — the next decade... 💬 — you.

"sweetheart, honey, my precious pumpkin pie."

you shot gojo a death glare, his attempt at flamboyant charm bouncing right off you, "i hate you. never speak to me again."

and your gaze dropped to what was left of your beautiful hermès scarf, once a beautiful concoction of cream-white silk, now reduced to tatters that fluttered pitifully in your hands, stained with some suspicious green goop.

you had cherished this pricey product, but gojo, in his infinite wisdom had decided to pick it up as a perfect blindfold right before a gnarly mission. and so, it got tangled with a nasty curse, and met its tragic, shredded end.

gojo raised his brows, feigning the innocence of a cherub, blinking his long lashes, "i'm sorry, i'll get you a new one, baby."

he drew out the pet name with exaggerated gusto that made you snarl, "enough with the pet names. you are a grown ass man."

and you gave him a first shove in the ribs that made the strongest sorcerer in the world stagger dramatically, only to catch himself with that easy grin still plastered on his face.

but before you could storm off and mourn whatever was left of your one-million yen possession, gojo darted in front of you, blocking your path with his ridiculously long arms. "come on, let me make it up to you, what if i had died on that mission?" he pleaded, looking at you with mock sincerity.

"i wouldn't have even come to the funeral," you sniffed, sticking your nose in the air, ignoring the fake choking sounds that came from the man as he clutched his chest.

months had turned into years, where you and gojo had grown up and graduated jujutsu tech together, carrying triumphs (you won valedictorian, out of a grand total of eight students), losses (gojo was a notoriously bad driver and almost crashed the car that the two of you were in) and countless moments in between.

the two of you had returned to your alma mater as teachers, and mentors, guiding younger sorcerers who were much like you'd once been; eager, impatient, and a little rough around the edges.

gojo took to teaching like he did most things, with his own reckless charm and devil-may-care attitude. he'd joke about skipping staff meetings, but he'd be there anyway, leaning back in his chair with his legs sprawled underneath him, mouthing snarky comments that only you could hear.

you'd like to think you'd grown more confident, no longer the uncertain teenager who used to glance at herself twice in the mirror. time had given you the chance to learn your strengths, and exorcising curses had left you all the more enduring.

gojo had noticed, though he'd never say it outright. he'd make some teasing comment about the way you would boss around a room, and you'd roll your eyes as you nudged him telling him that you had learnt from the biggest ego in tokyo. but sometimes, he'd watch you a little longer than he should, with that flicker in his gaze that he thought you hadn't noticed.

some things hadn't changed at all, and he still came back to you after every mission, every right. you'd hear him shuffling in from down the hall, his paper bags of desserts swinging as he tried to balance it along with his jacket, and whatever ridiculous trinket he'd picked up for you that week (you kept every single one).

and there the two of you would be, sitting cross-legged on your apartment floor, sharing sweets straight out of the boxes. he'd pass you a slice of cheesecake that he insisted that you simply must try, nudging your hand until your fingers enveloped his.

wouldn't it be a lie to claim that you didn't bask in the warmth of your best friend's gaze, even as he feigned interest in some story that he had overhead from the students on his way over from the school, with his low laughter filling the quiet around you.

sometimes, in the silence that would fall after the conversation ebbed, he’d reach over and trace circles absentmindedly on the back of your hand with his thumb, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. neither of you would move or speak. gojo would be looking anywhere but at you, yet his hand wouldn’t let go, tethering you to him in a way that made the apartment feel smaller — almost as if you’d already crossed some line neither of you dared to talk about.

what a pain to be haunted by someone who was already living and breathing right in front of you. sometimes, it left you nauseous, ill, and even screaming into your pillow after he left, and dialing shoko's number so she could give you an earful.

✉️ — october, 2018 💬 — you.

your car idled at the curb, the sounds of the city filtering in through the barely open window, with the faint chill of the october night brushing against your skin.

gojo looked up from his phone, tapping his fingers on the screen, and there was a sober look on his face that made your stomach twist. you watched as he ran his head through his white hair, and sighed, his eyes still on the screen.

"apparently i was summoned by name," he said quietly, "to shibuya. whatever curtain's been set up is only allowing sorcerers through."

you kept one hand on the wheel, "ijichi reached out to me too, but he wants me covering the perimeter on the other side, away from the metro. but who would summon you by name?"

"i know. do you think it's...?"

"the traitor everyone's guessing about? who else?"

gojo scoffed a little, "fuckin' surprise," he muttered, casting you a glance that spoke volumes of protectiveness, one that made you lurch ever so slightly. his eyes met yours, an unspoken worry passing between you. you bit the inside of your lip to keep yourself from blurting out the words that lived in the forefront of your mind.

and so, gojo reached for the door handle, and you saw him hesitate as his fingers drummed against the door, before pulling his blindfold up, "well, stay safe, yeah?"

you swallowed, trying to find some false platitude to offer back, "hey, i will if you will."

he gave a short laugh that must have not fully reached his eyes, but it softened the rest of his beautiful face in that way that you loved, "y'know, we could have been going trick-or-treating. dressed like idiots, stuffing our face with candy."

"tweedledee and tweedledum?"

gojo snorted, "next year then."

you hummed, "i'll keep that idea then, tweedledumb."

the bow of his lips quirked, and he looked away again before pushing himself out of the car, stepping out onto the suddenly cold, quiet sidewalk (too quiet, where was everyone?)

he paused, turning back to you through the window, as he lifted his hand up in a small wave, and you could tell he wanted to say something else — but the moment passed, and he closed his mouth, smiling instead in that way of his that said everything without a single word. and he pushed his hands back into his pocket, strolling away as you sat there, suddenly ever so lonely in your silent car, as chills went down your spine.

✉️ — october, 2018 💬 — you.

"gojo satoru has been sealed."

what the fuck?

the world has slowed down, every sound muffled as if you'd been submerged underwater. shibuya had left gojo sealed in the prison realm by...no. it couldn't be.

suguru geto was dead. dead, executed. had it not been almost a year? you had mourned, gojo had grieved. and yet, the impossible had clawed its way into reality, leaving you feeling like you were teetering on the edge of something dark and unknowable.

soon the shock twisted into dread, an icy grip that clenched tight around your chest, left the blood draining from your face. god, your hair must just turn as white as his from the stress alone. your best friend, the one who had been beside you in sickness and health.

it was cruel, you thought, to not even be allowed the time to fall apart, now now. there was little space for it in the chaos that had erupted the next day, when waves of curses crashed through the city like nothing you had ever seen. what fresh hell was this, you wondered as you nursed a nasty set of wounds, trailing after (tormented, sweet, far too young) itadori yuji, and his supposed older brother, some blood manipulation user that had done his fair share of damage throughout the night.

the culling games.

the brutality of it shocked you, and several times during the upcoming days, you had to blink back hot tears as sorcerers were summoned, drafted, and thrown into what was quickly a gladiator spectacle, some devilry concocted from geto's, no, kenjaku's mind. and the stakes were not just your own survival, but the students you had mentored — the young souls who had grown under your watch, and needed you now more than ever.

it quickly cost you an eye. a clash with a fierce, blood-thirsty wayward sorcerer had left you bloody and bruised with a clean gash that ran through your right eye, and you had screamed, taken a life even. only the baritone, dulcet tone of the yuji's half-curse brother (choso? a member of the kamo clan? since when did half-curses even exist?) had pulled you away from launching the contents of your stomach over the pavement, as you stared at the crimson dripping off your hands. were you supposed to be grateful that you had survived this, when so many others had not? yuji's tears had kept you awake in the night, his sobs when he thought that no-one could hear him.

gojo's absence had become a wound, raw, with a side of constant ache that you could feel with every waking heartbeat. and so you tried to fight hard with his voice echoing in your ears, remembering the half-smile he'd flash when you'd land a difficult hit, or the grateful look in his eyes knowing that his students were safe.

days blurred together, and nights bled into ceaseless combat, of the terror of being on the run, and still gojo was with you. the thought of finding him, the thought of him being unsealed from the prison realm almost had you blurting false, desparate promises to the sky that you would tell him exactly what you felt for him, bare your heart out in its entirety for him to hold in his hands.

like it had always been.

✉️ — november, 2018 💬 — you.

it was surreal seeing him again, unsealed and standing there against the burnt umber of the sky, rough around the edges but undeniably gojo. nineteen days of living with the ache of his absence, of waking every morning with a hollow flower blooming in your chest, he was here — alive, breathing, real.

but god, it had been so beautiful to meet his blue gaze once more, and that fleeting smile cross his face before he rushed to pull you into his arms, closing the distance and pulling you into his arms with a new strength that almost lifted you off your feet. and if you closed your eye, you could pretend that nothing had happened, nothing at all. that it was just you pressed against the warm, beating heart in gojo's chest, unrestrained and fierce as thick arms pulled you close, filling your senses with smoke, and earth, and long-spilt blood.

"don't you look eye catching?"

you huffed and leaned away from him, slamming your fist on hard muscle in exasperation, but if you hadn't turned your gaze away, you would have seen gojo's eyes twitch as he took in your battle-worn appearance, the scar that ran underneath bandages where an eye would have once been. if you had paid more attention, you would have heard his intake of breath as he ran his tongue behind his teeth, with a vow, a promise.

"guess who's going to kick sukuna's ass so far back to the heian era," gojo murmured, and you let out a shaky laugh that echoes all the way down to the marrows of your bones.

"yeah, i thought you were just all talk."

"i'm still alive, aren't i?" he shot back, cocky and boyish once more, and your eyes traced over him, drinking in every small change, the sharper clench in his jaw, the tautness in his frame, the way his shoulders seemed broader, like he had been carved up in the prison realm anew. and it leaves you melancholic.

in another universe, the two of you were still young, hand in hand underneath the blue sky as the cool breeze ran through your hair. but battles had turned to war, and the night had no time for what ifs.

"hey, don't go worrying about me," gojo murmured, almost as though he had caught the shadow in your heart, and he plastered a grin on his face, stretching his toned arms in some show of nonchalance, but his gaze lingered on the ruins too long, on the mottled group of assembled sorcerers who seemed to brim with new-found confidence at his return.

and when he finally looked back at you with a new dullness in your eyes, a heaviness you hadn't seen in a long time. it left a dead weight in your chest, but you forced yourself to return his own bland smile, playing along with the front he was trying to maintain, "well, i guess i'll have to keep you out of trouble from now on."

✉️ — november-december, 2018 💬 — you.

the month began to stretch and pass in a blur on the endless horizon, complete with the aching and unbearable waiting where you knew something was going to happen, and yet you did not know when and where. shoko had forgone her own exhausation to see to the rest of the wounds, the ones that had festered under bandages and grimes, leaving faint trails over your skin but she had shaken her head sadly when it came to the socket on your face, even she could not restore an eye.

gojo had swapped his suits and jackets for loose martial pants, and a tight black top that had clung to the muscular frame that he'd honed over the years, laughing off your concerns like they were nothing more than passing clouds.

"don't fret," he'd say, "how bad could this be? you know i told yuji once that even if sukuna was at his full power, i'd still wipe the floor with him. you believe me right?"

you weren't sure if his question was cocky, or a plea, and the fatigue had caused you to snap, "and now, yuji flinches when he hears loud sounds, and he's just another kid who can't fuckin' stop wringing his hands in blood! look what you've done to him!"

gojo's eyes had twitched afterwards, the corner of his mouth pulling down, but he hadn't gotten angry. and you hated it. you hated it all.

but you had wanted to believe in him, in his optimism. you wanted to let his smooth words settle into your bones like the warm comfort they should have been. but how could you feel at ease when everyone was now playing a role? each sorcerer in this building was feigning whatever mask or persona that they had painted and drawn across their face, just as you had. just as gojo did.

but nothing was the same anymore.

and neither were you.

the loss of your eye, the streaks of scars on your skin haunted you. it felt cowardly to say, but this was not the life you should have lived. you simply just didn't see yourself as strong enough, and your eyes watered thinking about the days when you dallied under a clear sky, skirts swaying along the grass as you trailed after your best friend, catching fireflies, exploring shrines, falling to the earth in child-like innocence.

the hollow space on your face, the empty socket served as a reminder of what you had survived, of the world that had fallen into pieces. was there anyone here who would recognise themselves in the mirror anymore?

some nights, the world felt impossibly still, and you would sit at the window and press your hands to the cold of the glass as you watched a scarred city sprawl ahead of you.

you didn't turn at the sound of footsteps at first, and you sat there, with your fingers still dancing on the edge of the window. you closed your eyes as you felt him approach, close, but not enough — you wished he would sit by you, press his soft head to your own, close enough for you to hold him in your hands, curl into his skin.

"satoru, can you make another promise?"

gojo's steps had paused, just a breath but it was enough to know that you had his attention. but when he spoke, "please tell me we're not doing theatrics right now," his voice was laced with that same dismissive edge that he always used when he was trying to push the truth far away.

"can't you shut up, just once? promise me you won't let sukuna kill you, i can't even imagine -" and how irritating, and how melancholic (fuck, this was like a bad soap opera) that your throat was already tightening, your voice wavering with tears that you had been holding back for weeks.

for a moment, gojo didn't respond, and he just stood there and you needn't have turned around to know that there was no trace of laughter nor joy on his face. no easy smirk to deflect the gravity of your well-founded fears. and the silence left you cold.

for the first time, you were suddenly hoping that he might say something blasé, to tell you to stop worrying, to brush it off and just reassure you. but he didn't, he was quiet.

and so you turned to face him, and you felt almost villainous for verbalising your future grief like this, to one who must already have carried such an eternal, heavy burden.

no longer did the blue of his eyes shine like a spring sky, with feather-like clouds that danced in his iris. now, there was only a fractured storm. and god, you loathed that for the first time in what must have been years, his own face was reddening, his eyes suddenly teary, clouds gathering torrential rain.

you knew he hated being seen like this. over a decade of holding him close to your heart had made you privy to his ways, to the way that he'd furiously rub at his face when upset, as if he could will the distress away and hide his tears.

gojo had outstretched his little finger towards you now, hooking it with your own, and your heart stuttered as he brought your finger to his lips, so quick that a ghost may have brushed your skin, with the seal of a promise.

"i will try. god, i swear, i...i promise, i will try." and you knew that gojo satoru was scared, terrified even of what december 24th would bring.

"i -"

you wanted to say it all, wanted to tell him everything. but the words stuck in your throat, love and want and need and ferocious, capricious grief all sat lodged within your beating heart that was so tightly bound in iron chains.

it was a shameful thing. you should have sat there, and comforted him instead. should have told him that it was alright, and you did not know a more powerful and capable sorcerer than he, that he'd leave sukuna in ashes. should have laid your hand on his brow to soothe the lines away from his pale, streaked face.

but you had always been selfish, held onto your heart like a being of folklore, guarded and self-assuming. you wept heart-aching tears, feeling them pool in your sleeves, and run hot salt trails over your lips. maybe it was a testament to how much gojo satoru loved you too, that he could not bear to see you in such grief, and he hesitated.

then he turned to leave you by the window.

✉️ — december 24, 2018 💬 — you.

the turn of the year felt cold, far too chilly, even though the night was still young. the city lights twinkled in solitary clumps outside, but they were just as dim as the heavy weight in your chest. the walls seemed to close in as gojo prepared to leave, to face sukuna — the king of curses. and you couldn't shake the feeling that something was slipping through your fingers, something that you would never be able to grasp again, no matter how tightly you gripped.

everyone had wished him luck, calling your their bravest words of encouragement as he walked past them, their voices echoing through the hall, as they slapped him on the back.

they all cheered the same platitudes.

"go fuck sukuna up!"

"language!"

"sorry, choso."

"show him what you're made of!"

"prove that you're not just a pretty face, gojo!"

and so you had plastered the same smile on your face, hoping that it would reach your eyes as gojo winked at you, "hey, before you start telling me off, now it's your turn to promise me something."

you had cocked your head up at him, ignoring shoko's narrowed, tired eyes, "yeah?"

"mhm," satoru nodded, pulling his arms around you, "after this, after all this bullshit, we get to take a vacation."

a barked laugh escaped you, before it collapsed into a giggle, "you want paid leave? that's all it is?"

your best friend's large hands gripped you, flat against your back, "yeah, that's all there is. we're gonna go take a holiday, sit by the beach, watch the ocean. keep it simple."

"a picnic too, eh?"

gojo nodded, humming, "we'll plan everything. about time we got to take a break. i'll be back before you even know it."

you felt his voice hitch against your ear, and your heart twisted painfully in response, he wasn't saying it but you both knew the cold truth, there was a real chance that he may never come back. before your vision could blur, you pressed his lips to his cheek, letting them linger for a moment on smooth skin (and you felt his arms tighten around you) and hoped that whatever you hoped to say, whatever spine you lacked, could be expressed so swiftly.

"come back then, please. i'll be ready." you whispered between his skin and your lips, the tremble leaving no space for air in your lungs.

for a moment, he didn't answer, just held you, and you tried to focus on the feeling of his chest rising and falling in slow, measured breaths. then, just as you were about to pull away, he spoke, the words falling from his mouth, so familiar and so effortless.

"of course i will. i always do."

there was a flicker of something raw there in his eyes, and you had seen it both before and after shibuya. his lips parted as if he were about to say something, but whatever it was, it never came. instead, he just nodded, a silent promise — unspoken, but felt deep in your bones.

without another word, he turned toward the door. and just before stepping out, he looked back one last time. that smile, that arrogant, confident smile that always made your heart race —i t was there, but it wasn’t the same. it was stretched thin, fragile. his blue eyes were tired, haunted, and for a moment, you saw the truth — the part of him he always kept hidden. the fear. the doubt.

"i'll be back," he repeated, but this time, it didn’t sound like a joke. it sounded like a prayer. a desperate, half-broken promise from the closest thing that the world had to a god.

you couldn’t speak. your heart was lodged in your throat, and the words that you needed to say just wouldn’t come. you wanted to tell him that you loved him, that you always had, that you were scared to lose him, that the world without him in it felt like a hollow echo of what it could be. but you couldn’t.

instead, you just nodded, your face a mask of emotions you couldn’t express.

and then, with one final look, a look that held everything neither of you had the courage to say — he stepped out into the cold, his footsteps fading into the distance.

✉️ — december 24, 2018 💬 — you.

gojo satoru was dead.

dead. killed.

for a moment, you stood frozen in the doorway of shoko's office, numbness seeping into your bones with a furious grief as you stared at the cold, unmoving form that was once satoru.

fuck, there was bile in your throat as a once lively boy now lay in four pieces, cleanly sliced by sukuna's unforgiving technique, and the sight was a nightmare made so real, something that you just couldn't reconcile with the man who had once been so vibrantly alive.

the warmth that had always clung to him had vanished, leaving his skin pale in the grasp of rigor mortis, and his lips were still flecked with dried blood that had painted a stark contrast against his stiff skin.

and his eyes, those striking blue eyes that used to glint with love and hope and dreams, were now dull, and still open. you had not the heart to close them, for once your hand pulled his eyelids down, you would never see them again, never look into his eyes until it was your time to pass from the circles of the world.

the last thing you’d seen of him had been that cocky grin, that wink that seemed so unbreakable, that laugh that lingered even as he left your embrace. he’d held you, promised you that he would come back, but now, as you stood there, that promise felt like a cruel lie, something that should’ve warned you but instead gave you nothing but hope.

you choked on a breath, your hand coming up to your mouth as you felt the weight of your unspoken words sink down like lead. i should have told him. you’d wanted to say it all, to let him know how much he meant to you, to tell him that he was your everything. but the words had died in your throat, held back by fear, by the delusion that there’d always be another chance, that he’d always come back.

you’d believed him. you’d believed, with every part of yourself, that he’d make it out alive.

but here he was, torn apart, the last shreds of life stolen from him by the king of curses. you had seen him being cut down, like a sheaf of wheat under a god's sickle, how sudden and gut wrenching it had been, and for the second time in a month, you had been on the edge of hurling onto the stone. but this time, the half-curse beside you, choso, hadn't stopped you from losing the contents of your stomach, as instead he had pressed his younger brother's cries to his broad chest, the grief swallowing the entire room.

gojo hadn’t been given the chance to fight back, hadn’t even been able to draw a breath before he’d been torn apart. and that final thought — that he’d been caught off guard, helpless, alone in his last moments — left you feeling shattered, grief clawing at you with merciless hands.

your knees felt weak as you moved toward him, your trembling fingers reaching out to touch his face, cold and unyielding beneath your hand. you traced the lines of his face, memorising every detail, as if somehow, through touch alone, you could keep a piece of him with you. a tear slipped down your cheek, landing on his lips, lips that had once murmured promises, had brushed against your skin in fleeting, unspoken moments. the tear brought moisture once more to the blood that splattered his face, but quickly, it disappeared, drying and taking away any life.

"i should’ve told you,” you whispered, your voice broken, raw, laced with the pain of regret, "i don't know if you ever knew how much i loved you."

you closed your eyes, the silence thickening around you, pressing down until it felt like you couldn’t breathe. your mind replayed every smile, every laugh, every word he’d ever spoken to you, each memory twisting the knife of grief deeper into your chest. the emptiness of the room swallowed you whole, and all that was left was the aching, unbearable reality that he was gone — that the man who had been your best friend, your confidant, your everything, was nothing more than a memory now.

you stayed there, your hand resting on his cold cheek, as if the warmth of your touch could somehow reach him, bring him back. but he was gone, and with him, he’d taken the words you’d never been able to say, the love you’d never been able to give.

and as the silence closed in around you, suffocating and absolute, you knew that part of you had died with him.

✉️ — not so long later. 💬 — you. it could only be you now, for you are the only one left.

the sun was beginning to set as you reached the shore, casting an amber glow over the ocean. the waves lapped quietly against the sand, as a gentle roll becoming a reminder that the world was still moving, even when the battles were done.

even though everything within you felt like it had come to a standstill. you clutched a folded piece of glossy card, and a box. two things that shoko said she found on him, things that she thought you should keep, she added quietly.

and so, you sat down on the sand, letting the evening wind sweep over you as you gazed out at the endless stretch of water. the ocean had always been something you had dreamed of seeing together, an endless horizon that was wild and untameable, just like gojo satoru had been. but he was gone, gone, and that promise would forever remain unkept.

you opened the folded glossy card, wincing as you tried not to press the faded creases further, brushing over the faded edges. it was dated to the fall of 2005, and you bit your lip as you saw your own image stare back at you. when the world had felt endless, and you had two wide eyes to see it with. there you were, that day in the market, laughing in the photo with your head thrown back sweetly, and you wetly laughed as you saw geto suguru's confused expression in the background, clearly exasperated with gojo's photography skills.

a choked sob escaped you as you traced your smile in the photo, so oblivious to what would come. you’d been so happy then, wrapped in a moment that had felt simple and whole. gojo had teased you relentlessly that day, snapping photos every chance he got, and you’d thought he was just being his usual, silly self. you’d never realised he’d kept this one one, never knew it meant enough for him to carry it all this time.

with a shaking hand, you opened the box, revealing the ring nestled inside. fuck.

it was beautiful, impossibly beautiful, as if he’d carefully chosen each detail with you in mind. the diamond glistened in the fading light, flecked with small blue stones that reminded you of his eyes, the eyes that used to light up every time he looked at you. this ring was supposed to be a promise, just as the ones you made when you locked little fingers — a promise he never got the chance to make, a life together that you’d both been too afraid to admit you wanted.

the first tear fell, splashing onto the sand below, followed by another, and then another, until you were trembling, the grief tearing out of you in waves, raw and unstoppable. you held the ring to your chest, clutching it as if somehow, by holding it close, you could feel him, hear his laughter, feel the warmth of his arms around you.

you could almost hear his voice on the wind, that playful edge mixed with tenderness as he called you by one of his ridiculous pet names. sweetheart, honey, my pumpkin pie, followed by your irritated huff telling him to drop those names.

but truly, here was nothing. just the sound of the waves, relentless and indifferent, echoing the hollow ache in your chest.

the what-ifs clawed at you, memories replaying over and over in your mind: moments when you’d almost reached for him, almost whispered the words, almost let your heart break free. but each time, you’d held back, too afraid to disrupt the delicate balance between you, too certain there’d be another day. but now, those moments were gone, scattered like dust in the wind, and the weight of those unsaid words felt unbearable.

you pressed the photograph to your lips, closing your eyes as if you could summon him back, if only for a moment. but when you opened your eyes, all that greeted you was the empty horizon, stretching out into nothingness.

"i love you,” you murmured, voice broken, barely more than a whisper. "i love you. i always loved you."

the words hung in the air, unheard, unanswered. it was too late, too late for confessions, too late for promises. the life you’d wanted with him, the life he’d carried in his pocket with a ring and a photograph, was gone, lost to the cruel twist of fate that had taken him from you.

you stayed there on the sand as the sky darkened, the weight of his absence pressing down on you like a storm. the wind whipped around you, cold and biting, and you shivered, clutching his ring, his memory, as if that alone could keep you grounded.

as night fell, the stars began to appear, dotting the sky with fragile points of light, distant and unreachable. and you sat there, letting the grief wash over you, lost in the silent, aching expanse of the ocean and the memories of a love that would remain forever unspoken, forever unfulfilled.

wasn't love the greatest curse of them all?

[misfitgirlwrites]

Leap of Faith | Lucifer M. x Fem!Reader

x reader version of my first-place giveaway piece! Same night lmao, please enjoy, y'all

First time with Lucifer, but you are scared to take that big step and allow yourself to be vulnerable with him.

18+ | Female Reader | SMUT: oral (male & female receiving), dry humping, p in v sex, unprotected sex (fiction is fiction is fiction is fiction), light biting, I think that's everything guys, the x reader version is on the way so get excited 💃🏽 | STILL more sin on the way, I have a fucking threesome to write how'd I get back in this building--(I walked in willingly. Glasses on and all.)

Words: 3.54k

   Angel Dust and Husker watched you seat yourself at the bar, slumping onto the stool and placing your face against the surface.

   "Why the long face, toots?" Angel Dust arched a brow.

   "I messed up." Your response was muffled. "I need your advice."

   "What'd you do?"

   You sighed and lifted your head, "I ran off from Lucifer last night after things got a little...heated. I've been avoiding him all day too."

   "You ran off??"

   "I freaked out! I panicked! I wanted to actually express how I was feeling but I thought that--"

   "--You'd ruin the night and potentially the relationship?" Husker placed a drink in front of you.

   "Exactly. I've never done this. I've never really had the interest until now anyway. It will change everything. Maybe I'll change?"

   "You go with the flow, babe. You're thinking way too much."

   "It's easier said than done."

   "Ya gotta feel confident! You told me you've read some things."

   "Yeah..."

   "Now's the time to test it out! It's not as hard as it seems. Switch your hips, shake your ass a little, and give him the sexy eyes~" Angel Dust cooed.

   "Sexy eyes?" You tilted your head.

   "Ya know," Angel Dust turned to face you, crossing his legs. He leaned forward, locking eyes with you. His half-lidded pink eyes seemed a lot more intense and focused on you, it nearly gave you chills. It was the same way Lucifer looked at you last night. Thinking about that definitely sent a pleasurable shiver down your spine. 

   "Of course, you can do that at the drop of a dime. I've never done that in my life." You groaned and covered your face.

   "You probably do it and don't even notice!"

   "Stop beating yourself up. Everyone starts somewhere and no one starts as an expert. Not even Angel." Husker stated. 

   "You don't know that. I've always been this good." Angel Dust shrugged.

   "Talk to Lucifer and tell him how you're feeling, that's the best start. Nothing bad will happen. Angel is right about one thing, you're thinking too hard. It's obvious you both love each other, so this is nothing." Husker told you.

   You nodded and grabbed your glass. Angel Dust raised his eyebrows. 

   "I thought that was for aesthetic. Is she really--?"

   "It's a virgin drink," Husker said as you downed the glass.

   "I'm ready!"

   "That's the spirit! Go get 'em!" Angel Dust cheered as you left the parlor. "Let's hope she doesn't run off again."

   "We'll know if Lucifer is at the bar next," Huskee mumbled.

~~~

   "Like this?"

   "Almost! That looks good!"

   "...Dad, it's all misshapen."

   "Do you think my first one was perfect?"

   "Yes, actually."

   Lucifer's bedroom door was cracked, you could hear him inside with Charlie. You knocked lightly and poked your head in a bit with a smile.

   Charlie looked back and stood, holding out her rubber duck. The head was a bit smaller than usual and the body was much larger with a few small dents, but from the light purple skin, white hair, and red eyepatch, it was clearly Vaggie.

   "_____! Look!"

   Lucifer looked back as your smile widened, "she's so cute!"

   "You think so?"

   "Vaggie will love it! It has lots of sentiment and you did great on your first try!"

   "Thanks! I have to give it to her! I'll see you guys tomorrow!" A tight hug for Lucifer, then you before Charlie was out of the door, closing it behind her.

   You looked at Lucifer, rubbing your arm. "...Hey."

   Lucifer smiled, but his eyes gave away how worried he was. "Hey." He turned to face you and stood from his seat.

   You both stood in silence for a bit, each second growing more and more tense before you both blurted out. 

   "I'm sorry!"

   "What?"

   You both stared at each other after speaking in unison and you quickly spoke up, "You have nothing to be sorry for."

   "I made you uncomfortable. I didn't mean to--"

   "--No. Luci, you didn't make me uncomfortable. It was just me." You began to close the distance between them as you explained, "I got nervous about taking that step with you, not because I don't want to, it's because I know things will be different after. I've never done this before, and I have no experience, I could ruin everything and not even know how. I've never felt so comfortable with someone to even feel the need to do this, and it's a little scary to share a first experience with someone and not know how it will go." You stopped in front of Lucifer and grabbed his hands, caressing them with your thumbs. 

   "I love you so much. I want to do this. My mind is just getting the best of me. Angel says I'm thinking too much." You let out a light chuckle.

   "Maybe a little." Lucifer smiled at you.

   "The last thing I wanted to do was run off. I got overwhelmed."

   "I understand, it's okay. Apology accepted. Are you sure I didn't make you uncomfortable at all? If it's too soon--"

   "I'm sure, my angel." You would never get enough of Lucifer. He was so sweet, caring, and loving, why'd it take you so long to find your true love?

   Lucifer gave you a light tug, pulling you into a hug before pecking your lips, your forehead, and your cheeks, "I love you."

   "I love you too."

   "Ready to take that leap of faith with me?"

   "That's a way to put it." You laughed lightly.

   "You're scared you'll be drastically different, or we'll be drastically different. I can safely promise that won't be the case. You trust me, don't you?"

   "Of course." You nodded. "I don't trust my lack of experience."

   "If you're thinking about that, you're thinking too hard." Lucifer chuckled, staring into your eyes.

   There go the "sexy eyes" again. 

   "Well, then what do I think about, Lucifer?" You inched a bit closer.

   "What would make this moment better for you? Do what comes to mind."

   Your hands moved to the blond's face and you closed the small gap that was left between you two, pressing your lips against his.

   Lucifer's hands moved from your own to your arms. The light pecks got longer and longer after each one until Lucifer couldn't bear to pull away from your lips anymore.

   Don't think, right? What would make this moment better? You hesitantly led you both towards the bed, not breaking the kiss. You both sat down, but you weren't done yet. You placed your hands on his shoulders and pulled your lips away just a bit to position yourself, straddling his lap.

   "Well--R-Right now is definitely an option, but if you needed time to--"

   "No more time needed." You could feel your cheeks heating up before you quickly kissed him again.

   This time, Lucifer's hands found your hips, pulling you in closer and nipping at your lower lip. Your hands quickly went to his face, cupping his cheeks and letting out a small sigh as you melted into the kiss.

   If you had to choose your favorite thing to do, you would always choose kissing Lucifer. Instead of thinking of a good stopping point, you focused on the warm feeling pooling inside of you as Lucifer swirled his tongue around yours before lightly sucking on it. That warm feeling quickly became hot. His hands went under your shirt, caressing the sensitive skin of your lower back before slowly moving up, tracing your sides, and lifting your shirt in the process. 

   You pulled away a bit, lifting the shirt over your head and tossing it to the ground. Your hands went to Lucifer's chest, locking eyes with him as they slid down to the top button of his vest, undoing it. "You next?"

   You held back your small laugh as Lucifer rushed to take off his vest and shirt. Beautiful was the only word that could describe the blond. His porcelain shoulders were covered in a light yellow blush, along with his cheeks. You continued to trail your hands down his chest before kissing him again. The blond's hands were on your bra next, unclasping it, but not pulling away from the kiss to let you take it off just yet.

   Lucifer finally moved from your lips, kissing down your neck, "L-Love. You still want to go further?"

   "Mhm." You felt a bit fuzzy from the kiss and the trail following down your neck and shoulder wasn't helping. You were no stranger to this part of the game, but feeling the growing bulge in his pants almost made you freeze up. Remember what Angel Dust said; you've read things. You have references. 

   The woman gave a slow roll of your hips and took a sharp breath as Lucifer gasped. You quickly found a good rhythm with your hips, leaning in close until their lips were inches apart, "how is this?"

   "Don't stop, please." Lucifer let out a light moan that made you grind down a little harder.

   The friction was amazing for both of them. Lucifer felt rock hard under you now. Each roll of your hips drew a moan or a whimper from the blond, and you weren't exactly quiet yourself. The feeling against your clit had your arousal growing with each movement. 

   "Shit--_____, I can't--"

   Before you knew it, you were lifted by your hips, and their positions were flipped. You were now lying on your back and Lucifer was between your legs. His blond hair was disheveled as he panted, his fingers hooking your pants and panties.

   "I don't mean to cut your exploration short, I'll combust without even making you cum first at this rate."

   That made you blush even more, "well we can't have that, can we?"

   "No, we can't~" Lucifer pulled down both garments, tossing them with your shirt and finally letting you take your bra off as well. "You're so beautiful," his hands roamed your body, cupping your breasts, and pinching your nipples lightly. It was driving you crazy.

   "L-Luci!"

   "Am I teasing? I'm sorry, my angel." The blond's hands went to your thighs. "I'll keep going for the both of us, you just tell me at any time if it's too much." As he spoke, he spread your legs a bit more.

   "I will, Lucifer."

   "Did I already say that I love you?"

   "I'd love to hear it again."

   "I love you," Lucifer's fingers toyed at your entrance. 

   "I-I love you too." You looked at him, "You're still teasing."

   "I am, aren't I?" Lucifer slowly pushed a finger inside of you. "I'll stop now." He started to kiss your inner thigh.

   Your mouth opened slightly as his finger worked slowly, his focus more on leaving marks along the woman's sensitive skin. You could feel the slight pinch from his teeth, nearly leaving you trembling from the sensation. The blond carefully added another finger, curling both of them to stretch you out.

   "Where's your pretty voice?" The blond purred, his kisses trailing down your thigh lower and lower, "Let me hear you." He finally reached his desired destination, letting his mouth latch onto your sensitive bud while he still worked his fingers.

   A loud gasp left you this time. You could feel his forked tongue circling your clit before he began to suck and--

   "Oh my fuck--" Your's body nearly jolted as a moan tumbled from your lips.

   What should you do with your hands? After the thought came, the obvious answer came right after. Your hands slid into Lucifer's hair, earning a shiver and a moan from him once you tightened your grip.

   "Luci! Luci--!"

   That encouraged the blond to pick up his pace. You tugged at the blond strands in your grasp. "Feels good! Feels so good! Luci--!"

   Lucifer slowly removed his fingers and let his tongue delve inside your, instead using his fingers, slick with your arousal to focus on your clit. You were seeing stars. You could feel fire pooling in your lower abdomen as you began to roll your hips up into Lucifer's face. Your thighs were shaking, each flick of his tongue and roll of his fingers made you hotter and hotter. Each moan and praise that fell from your lips simply added fuel to the fire.

   "Gonna cum--"

   "Mhm." Lucifer locked eyes with you, half-lidded and blown out, begging you to cum.

   That was the final straw.

   Your back arched and your eyes closed as your hips jerked. You could feel your body pulsing, pleasure rippling through you as you came undone. Lucifer didn't move, slowing his movements to ride out your orgasm. He only pulled away once he felt the woman moving.

   The blond lifted his head, licked his lips, and smiled.

   "That was amazing." You were still steadying your breathing, smiling back at him. "Let's keep the show going~."

   A gentle push. Lucifer let you take the lead, squirming a bit once you were the one settled between his legs. You decided to start slowly, running your hands up his thighs to reach the waistband of his pants.

   A shaky breath left his lips, "m-my love. You don't have to--"

   "I'd like to return the favor." You began to pull his pants down, "let me help you feel good?"

   Lucifer couldn't possibly say no to that. He swallowed harshly, eyes never leaving you as you continued. Once his pants were off, You took a small breath. Whatever you thought you felt earlier was very much an understatement to the outline of the bulge you were seeing. The boxers didn't stay on long after that.

   You couldn't tear your eyes away even if you wanted to (you didn't). Lucifer's cock stood at attention, precum beading at the tip, urging you to continue. Your hand slowly wrapped around him and you felt him tense up under you.

   One stroke. Two, and his hips were already bucking into your strokes. You leaned in closer at a snail's pace and just when Lucifer thought he needed to beg, a loud moan left him instead when your tongue slowly dragged up the base of his dick to the weeping tip.

   "Fuuuuck! W-Who's teasing now, huh?"

   "Just a tiny bit~" You kept stroking as you wrapped your mouth around the tip, languidly circling it with your tongue before beginning to bob your head.

   It was your turn to enjoy hearing Lucifer's moans like your own little symphony as you did your best to please him. You began to take more and more of him in your mouth as Lucifer gripped the sheets under him.

   "K-Keep--"

   "Hmm?"

   "Shit! Baby," Lucifer's moans aroused You further than you thought was possible. You picked up your pace, pulling your head up a bit to focus on the blond's twitching tip.

   "Baby--" he repeated.

   Your tongue circled the tip of his cock before you began to suck. The blond's hips bucked and he cried out.

   "ShitShitShit! That's--So good--You're so good, baby--"

   You could feel him throbbing in your warm mouth. You moved your hand a bit faster, drinking in the moans and praises that left the Demon King's lips. Nothing more mattered than seeing Lucifer come undone.

   "Cumming! I'm gonna--"

   "Mhm~" You mimicked your boyfriend as he tumbled over the edge. You took each drop of cum and made sure none went to waste, swallowing his release as you kept stroking him, slowing your pace again. 

   Lucifer's chest was heaving, he looked completely sex-drunk, and you couldn't get enough of it.

   "How was that?" You asked.

   "Do you really feel the need to ask?"

   You were on your back again before you could respond. Lucifer hovered over you, strands of his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. "Are you still up for this, my love?"

   The woman nodded, grabbing Lucifer's face. "I need you inside me."

   Lucifer let out a shaky "fuck" before kissing you again, beginning to position himself. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him in close as you felt him brush against your slit. It wasn't long before he was slowly sinking into you. You felt like you could feel each inch of him until he bottomed out inside of you. You tensed up a bit and Lucifer buried his face into your shoulder.

   "F-Fuck--Are you alright?"

   A sharp nod. You were just full. Completely filled with Lucifer in a way you'd never been before, it was almost overwhelming. "Just need to s-sit." You managed to respond verbally. 

   "Take as long as you need," Lucifer assured you.

   Once you felt adjusted enough, your body began to relax. You gave a small roll of your hips as you loosened your grip. "You can move now." You told him. 

   Lucifer's movements were slow as his hips pulled back and connected with yours again. His head didn't move from the nape of your neck, a moan falling from his lips. His rhythm was slow and careful, not wanting to end things too soon, or worse, hurt you in any way. The blond could stay like this with your tight walls wrapped around him for the rest of eternity. Was planning for next time already a bad thing? Of course, he didn't think so. 

   "Lucifer," Your hands found their way up his back, making his rhythm stagger a bit. You tangled your fingers in his hair again. "Faster, please."

   The careful pace the King of Hell worked so hard to set was broken at record speed. Pleasure began to build for both of them. The familiar heat building in your core was returning, a hand moving down between their bodies, only to be stopped by Lucifer. He leaned in close, drinking in the moans and whines that left your swollen lips before speaking, his voice low in your ear.

   "Let me." His hand trailed down instead, not taking long to reach where you were headed. Lucifer rubbed at the bud with firm circles, his thrusts keeping a consistent pace. The added stimulation almost made your eyes roll back. Your walls wrapped tighter around Lucifer and his rhythm began to stagger again.

   "Baby,"

   You moaned out in response. No one's voice should be as sinful as his.

   "So good. So good, angel." The blond whimpered out.

   "Luci, please!” You could feel that you weren't going to hold out for much longer. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him in as his fingers began to work faster. "Gonna cum!"

   "Cum for me. Please cum for me, let me feel you--Shit--I-I'm close myself--" His thrusts were beginning to pick up speed as he started to kiss and suck at your neck. You tugged at his hair harder, earning a muffled moan from him. 

   "LuciLuciLuciLuciLuci--" His name fell from your lips like a broken prayer as the tightening band finally snapped. 

   This was somehow more intense than the orgasm you'd just had. Your voice was taken from you, mouth open as your back arched and your pulsating walls tightened around Lucifer's cock.

   "There you go. Fuck--So good--You're so good. I--" He was throbbing inside you now, both hands gripping the thighs that were wrapped tightly around him, his claws lightly digging into the supple flesh. His eyes closed, mouth slacked as loud moans escaped him. He was so close. You decided to give him the push he needed. 

   "Please. Let me feel you, Luci~"

   "D-Don't say things like that--"

   "Cum inside me, please."

   "Shit! _____--" Nail in the coffin. One buck of the hips, then another before the blond was burying himself as deep as he could. His cock twitched and his teeth were at the nape of your neck, not fully sinking in, but certainly enough to leave a mark regardless. A string of nearly incoherent praises left him as he came undone.

   Sudden darkness in the room forced you to focus in your euphoric state. Lucifer's wings had sprouted, fluttering slightly with each tremble of his body as his tail whipped behind him before it wrapped itself around your leg. Your hands slowly moved up in his hair, feeling the base of his horns as his body finally began to relax. The two lay in their positions for a few moments longer, waiting for their breathing to even out before Lucifer slowly pulled out of you. You locked eyes with the blond, staring into the yellow you were met with. Your hands moved down to his face. 

   "How was that for a leap of faith?"

   Lucifer laughed, closing his eyes. You smiled and laughed as well as he responded, "A leap for sure, but I'll never complain. You were amazing, my love."

   "I should be saying that to you." You noticed that his tail was still wrapped around your leg and his wings still enveloped them completely. You leaned up a bit and pecked his lips before speaking, "You don't seem tired at all."

   Surprisingly enough, neither was you. The blond simply shrugged in response, leaning in to peck your lips once more, "How could I possibly get tired of you? Are you asking because you want to indulge me some more?" With that, he was lowering himself between your thighs again and the action alone set you ablaze.

   Now how could you say no to that?

Lucifer Tag List: @alastorssimp @saints-wrapped-in-plastic @liveontelevision @heart-of-the-morningstar

Requests are open! If you'd like to be tagged in future Lucifer or Hazbin Hotel content, let me know! My asks and DMs are open to all!

[wileys-russo]

grace clinton, “i forgot it gets dark at 6….”, pitch

was struggling to finish this so changed up the location! the best view II g.clinton

"baby come on! you'll love it." your girlfriend begged as you shook your head again, eyes focused on the monitor in front of you. "i need to study and i can promise you i won't." you chuckled with a shake of your head.

"its just a lookout babe, and we can take a little picnic, watch the sunset, very romantic!" the girl bargained as you only hummed, half listening as you scribbled down the key points you'd need to use to bulk up your opening argument.

"grace!" you huffed when she snatched your pen out of your hand, swooping next for your notebook and holding them behind her back making you groan. "we're going, i've decided. think of it as a self care break baby." she announced still with a grin, thick scouser accent always making the corner of your mouth tug up into a small smile.

"you're not going to give me a moment of peace until i agree, are you?" you sighed knowingly as your girlfriend shook her head stubbornly. "well exactly where is this wonderful view then clinton?"

your girlfriend had failed to mention that in order to get to this wonderful view she was so excited to show you, there was a hike nearly entirely uphill which had taken you around an hour to even get near to the top.

"are ya done sulking now?" the girl in question called from a few feet ahead with an amused grin, one you very much so wanted to slap off her face as you stopped with your arms crossed over your chest sending her the most deathly glare you could manage.

"taking that as a no." grace nodded as you strode off past her, ramming your shoulder into hers with a huff as you marched ahead, her chuckles behind you only spurring you to put as much distance between you both as possible.

but in hindsight that was not your smartest move as your girlfriend had to run to catch up with you, and while keeping a cautious eye that you were following the trail she missed the tree root which caught her ankle and sent her hurdling to the ground.

you heard her scream and whipped your head around, eyes widening as you hurried back to her and dropped down to the ground. "what happened!" you asked with a gasp, your girlfriend clutching her ankle with a moan of pain.

"fucking snapped me ankle on that stupid branch! which i wouldn't have had to if you wasn't running away." grace grunted, trying to roll it around and hissing with a wince.

"my fault? this is my fault?" you scoffed in disbelief. "you dragged me on this stupid hike grace, and then you weren't watching where you went and you tripped over! see the common factor babe? you!" you huffed standing to your feet.

"yeah alright alright fine. you're gonna have to carry us baby, i think its broken." grace backed down with a scowl at her ankle as you raised an eyebrow. "lets try to get you up." you spoke softer this time as she nodded, reaching her hands up which you took in your own.

"okay on three? one, two-" you pulled her up and the blonde let out a squeal before her weight collapsed into you and sent the pair of you tumbling back to the ground with a thump.

"you're a head taller than me. this is not going to be easy!" you groaned as you rolled off of her, both of you dusting yourselves off with a sigh. "well we don't have a choice baby, at least its all downhill?" she smiled charmingly as you rolled your eyes.

"okay, but we go at my pace."

"baby..." you inhaled sharply as the girl on your back started to speak once again after you'd banned her from doing so, her running commentary and attempts at conversation as you were struggling to catch your breath.

"have you maybe perhaps thought that-" she started cautiously as you exhaled, shifting her on your back with a grunt. "i'd urge you to think very very carefully about your next words grace, or i will drop you on your ass and leave you here for the wolves." you warned.

"okay first; we don't have wolves here. second; do you think we could maybe go just a little bit faster? the sun is...setting." the girl spoke softly as you stopped for a second, feeling her grip on you tighten as she panicked you would in fact drop her.

"well. whose bright fucking idea was an afternoon sunset hike grace?" you spoke calmly before you kept walking, your legs absolutely burning but you knew with each step you got closer to the bottom where your car was waiting.

"stop with the grace baby, you're hurtin me worse than the ankle." your girlfriend huffed as you rolled your eyes. "and i forgot it gets dark at six..." she trailed off as you hummed, the sky rapidly darkening with each fleeting moment.

"i will hurt you much worse than a rolled ankle if I get lost and trapped here in the dark with my useless one legged girlfriend." you grunted, adjusting her again as your neck twanged.

"harsh, but fair." grace sighed and you sagged a little in relief as finally after a few moments of silence you could see the car. "not a word grace, not a word." you warned hearing her open her mouth to make a comment as it quickly snapped shut again.

"you sit. i'll bring the car around." you lowered her down onto a bench and grabbed the keys from her pocket, though spotting a sign you stopped right in your tracks, squinting as you read it over and over.

"baby what are you-" the girl hobbled over to you, sagging her body into you as she fell silent reading what you had been before, feeling you tense up beside her.

"grace. the park closes at six, the gates are locked at six, it is now six twenty two." you spoke terrifyingly calm, your girlfriend rapidly hopping away from you on one leg with wide eyes as you turned.

"baby now before you speak i want you to remember this sunset hike was just me trying to be romantic, and loving, and kind, and sweet, and-"

"come here clinton i'm gonna snap your other ankle!"

[cheeseceli]

Love wins all

Pairing: Jungkook × Gn!reader (established relationship)

Genre: fluff, comfort, late 40s au, drabble (<1k words).

Prompt: "however big, however small, let me be part of it all. You may be right, you may be wrong, but say you'll bring me along."

Warnings: Both y/n and Jungkook struggle financially, they are married.

A/n: This is a mix of the greatest showman with the notebook (although I never watched the latter) | daily click

"Jungkook, if you let me trip over another rock I swear that I-"

His laugh cut you off, not allowing you to finish your threat towards him. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. We're almost there, I promise."

"You said that a few times already. I miss the light."

You heard his giggles once again. You loved that sound. It never failed to amuse how, even with all difficulties life presents, your lover always managed to find joy in the little things. Like leading you through the sidewalk when your eyes were covered. That seemed to be bringing a lot of fun to him and, although he still hasn't confessed to you where the destination is, claiming this would ruin the surprise, you trusted him enough to literally follow him blindly.

"But we're getting closer every new step, aren't we?"

"I bet people are staring weirdly at us."

"I wouldn't say that."

Now it was your turn to smile, a lighthearted laugh coming out of your lips "we've been walking down this entire road with you covering my eyes, people would be crazy if they didn't find it weird."

"I really don't think it's that weird. Don't worry about that. Instead, focus on this."

With that, Jungkook slowly took off his hands from your eyes and placed you in front of the destination.

As your eyes got used to light once again, you saw a house in front of you. It was simple: a single floor, rather small, with visible dust and some broken stairs. It seemed abandoned for a while, but it had this cozy charm. It seemed like a lovely house, one you would love to visit given the right circumstances. "Where are we?"

"At our home."

You looked at him, speechless, only to find a quite anxious yet very smiley Jungkook. His eyes shone as you looked at them. "Surprise," he nervously giggled.

"You bought this house?"

"I did. I've told you I'd give you a good life once you married me, hadn't I?" not even once he stopped looking at you, trying to understand your reaction through your glossy eyes "I mean, the house is not very big and it needs some adjustments... A lot of them, maybe. But it's ours."

You couldn't believe it. Not once in your life you would've expected this. When you married Jungkook, you never expected gold nor glory. None of you never even saw it throughout your lives, and you genuinely think that you could die without it as long as you had Jungkook's love.

When your lover told you as a wedding vow that he would do the unimaginable to give you a proper life, you knew he was true to his words. But still, him buying a goddamn house for the both of you was not in your plans. As he promised you, you couldn't have ever imagined it.

And yet, here you are: seeing the man you love the most guaranteeing a home to keep your love safe for the following years, all while looking at you like you are the most precious thing in the place, even when considering the current situation.

You really were at a loss of words, but maybe you kept quiet for too long, as now Jungkook was getting nervous. He didn't plan your silence. He didn't think you would've cried. He wished you had at least smiled a bit. But you were seriously looking at him, tears threatening to spill at any second. Did you not like it?

"I know I should've bought the house with you... It's just that I wanted to make a surprise. If you don't like it, then I can... I don't know, I can come up with something to-" you hugged him. Tighter than you have ever hugged him before, maybe just not comparing to how you embraced him when he proposed.

He then remembers that your reaction at the moment was the same back then: speechless at his will to build a future with you.

"I love it, Kook. I love the surprise. I love the house. I love you."

This time he is the one who couldn't come up with things to say. He could never get tired of hearing you say things like that. So he hugged you tighter, bringing you closer to where his heart beats, maybe in an attempt to keep you and your sweet words with him for longer.

Maybe you would never be rich. Maybe you would never wear brand clothes and live in fancy houses, with expensive cars and food. But you had a home. You had each other. And you could never think of anything else you longed for. Your life was complete, and maybe that was the rarest thing to find, yet you and him did.

Masterlist | you'll probably like: 7:44 pm

Reminder that this is all fiction, this does not represent the members in real life!

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans @butnotmontana @lelewright1234

Dividers by @adornedwithlight | images 1, 2 and 3

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

The Coconut (The Surprise, Part 21)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: mentions of sex (but no smut), general pregnancy anxiety, explicit language (let me know if I've missed anything!) Word count: 1.7k

Summary: Your nesting instinct is kicking in hard and causing you some anxiety. But Emily is here to help make it better.

Week 31: The Coconut

You froze on your laddered perch in the nursery, dripping handled squeegee pressed against the chalkboard wall that the BAU had painted a few weeks ago, as you heard Emily knock on the open door.

“Uh… what’s going on in here?” she said, looking at you with equal parts concern and amusement.

You’d noticed today that it was dusty. And every time you passed the room, you could see more chalk dust, as if it was taunting you. Accumulating on the surfaces, making sandy little dust clouds on the hardwoods, sifting its way into the baby’s lungs, causing something horrendous and scary and life-altering, like polio or meningitis.

“The chalk wall was a bad idea, Em,” you said, huffing as you lowered the squeegee into the mop bucket. Emily surged forward to hold your forearms as you stepped down from the ladder.

“Don’t love the idea of you on this thing…” she muttered, more to herself than to you, then shook her head and looked at you, planting a quick hello kiss on your cheek. “What’s wrong with the chalk wall? I thought you liked it?”

You crossed your arms and bit at your lip, worried. You were so worried these days.

“What if it gets in her lungs or something, and she gets sick? I just…” You started to tear up despite yourself, sniffling and wiping at your eyes. “I want her to be safe. I have to keep her safe.”

“Oh, honey,” Emily said, placing her hands on either side of your face. “He will be safe. He’ll be so safe. We baby-proofed the hell out of this place, you know that. Come here, sit down. You’re okay.”

You lowered yourself gently onto the top step of the ladder, placing your hands over your baby bump, and feeling scared. So scared. You felt scared all the time right now, couldn’t seem to ward it off, no matter how you tried to distract yourself. You took shaky breaths, trying to calm yourself down as Emily crouched next to you, rubbing your hand with her thumb, then kissing it.

“What’s going on, huh? Can you tell me?” she prompted.

“I’m scared,” you admitted, shuddering. “I’m scared something will happen to her before she’s born. I’m scared something will happen after. I’m really fucking scared of labor. I’m scared I’ll get hurt, so she’ll get hurt, and it’ll be my fault.”

“Okay, well, for starters, let’s not get on the ladder. That should help,” Emily observed, then quickly backtracked when you started crying harder.

“Honey, you’re not gonna hurt him,” she insisted, taking both your hands in hers and resting her chin on your baby bump as she knelt in front of you. “You are so good at taking care of people. You take care of me. He should be a piece of cake in comparison!”

You laughed, wiping snot from under your nose.

“And, baby, a little chalk isn’t going to hurt him. We want him to have fun, too, remember?”

“I know…” you choked out.

Emily watched you sniffle, your eyes puffy, looking terrified and bedraggled, and she wished she could take it from you. She wanted you to see yourself the way she saw you: strong and kind and caring and protective. She wanted you to know that it was not just your responsibility to keep the baby safe. It was hers, too, and it was a job she took very seriously–for both you and him.

“What if something terrible happens, Em?” you whispered. “During labor?”

She sighed and looked at you, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Be honest. Did you watch more 16 & Pregnant?”

You looked down. “...No.”

“Y/N…” she chastised.

You sighed. “Yes.”

Emily kissed your forehead, then grabbed a piece of chalk and started doodling on the wall.

“Babe, you’ve got to stop watching that. It just makes you nervous. Also, you’re not sixteen.”

You watched as Emily drew on the wall–a lumpy oval with a few lines and a smiling face. Above it, she wrote Don’t worry, be happy!

“See?” she said, showing off her work. “Don’t worry, baby. It’s all gonna be okay.”

You squinted your eyes at the smiling lump. “What am I looking at?”

Emily’s face fell a bit. “It’s a fish! You know, like one of those that hangs on the wall and sings the song.”

You raised your eyebrows and smirked. “You sure? It looks like a puddle with eyes.”

She surged forward to tickle the spot just under your arms that always made you giggle, and you fought her half-heartedly as she planted fluttery kisses across your face.

“Alright, Picasso, let’s see you do any better,” she argued.

Over the course of the evening, you and Emily decorated the whole wall. You drew all the things you hoped the baby would love. Storybooks and lines of music, a little black cat and a very wobbly Eiffel tower. After a while, the pizza Emily ordered arrived, and you felt weepy all over again that she knew that a greasy slice of pepperoni goodness was just what you needed this evening. Emily always knew what you needed, sometimes even before you did. You didn’t even mind the chalk all over your clothes, all over the walls and the floor, in your hair. You wiped your hands off on paper towels, then sat cross-legged on the floor of the nursery, eating slices of pizza right out of the box.

You finished filling in all the blank spaces on the chalkboard wall, around a big, stick-figure drawing of you and Emily and a little ambiguous human. You’d bubble-lettered the words Welcome home, little love! above it, and Emily had colored it in, all rainbows and bright colors and polka dots. And when you stood back to admire your work–it really did look like a toddler had drawn it–you took Emily’s hand in yours and leaned against her shoulder. Yes, there was a lot to worry about bringing a new human into the world. Yes, you were, by nature, an anxious person. But Emily was your port in the storm. She was strong where you were weak and weak where you were strong. You fit together perfectly. And as the little one kicked against your stomach, you knew that there was a space, where you and Emily came together, that was just the right fit for this tiny human. There was no sense in worrying where she would fit in your life, in the world. She already had a space. In your heart, in your world, in your very bodies.

You and Emily sat under the window in the Bunting glider you’d repurposed from your grandma’s house. You’d opted for a glider instead of a rocker because you knew when Emily was here, she’d want to be with you and the baby always, especially when rocking or feeding, and on the glider, there was room for all of you. You cracked the window a bit, just enough to hear the birdsong but not enough to let in the heat. Your feet dangled over the armrest of the glider, the back of your head in Emily’s lap as she ran her fingers haphazardly through your hair, to the same rhythm that she pushed the glider back and forth, back and forth, with her feet.

“Do you remember the night we moved in together?” you asked her quietly, not wanting to disrupt the soft beauty of the moment.

She looked down at you and smiled, her eyes bright with memory. “I do.”

The fading evening sun shone perfectly through the nursery window, the little crystal Penelope had bought you refracting tiny rainbows all throughout the room. You laughed and talked about nothing and everything, and it really did remind you of when you and Emily moved in together–all hope and possibilities and excitement for what was to come. You’d sat on a floor, not so dissimilar to this one, and eaten pizza just like you had tonight, and she’d laid you down gently, so gently, on the newly-unfurled rug. She’d kissed you again and again and told you that she wanted to be near you always, forever. And your heart had surged because no one had ever wanted you like that before. No one had wanted you always. No one had wanted you near. But Emily did. And when she made love to you that same night on that same unfurled rug, you’d cried. Not because she hurt you, not because you were sad or forlorn or mourning the end of your single era, but because you were not used to being so fully, wholly wanted. Wanted not in part, not just sometimes, but for all of you.

“Are you sure about all this, Em?” you asked, gesturing to yourself, the baby, the room.

She chuckled. “Well, it’s a little late if I’m not, isn’t it?”

You smacked her lightly on the arm. “I’m serious.”

She bent over you, her hair falling in your face so that you wrinkled your nose. She placed a hand on either side of your head, just watching you for a moment, smoothing her thumbs over your eyebrows. “I’m sure, honey. I’ve never been so sure about anything.”

Maybe it was your face that gave you away, your face that revealed your inability to believe fully, even all these years later, even after all the daily reminders, big and small, of just how much Emily loved you, that she didn’t want out. Whatever it was, she could see it, and, like she always did, she put it to rest.

She squeezed your head lightly, as if to knock her love through your thick skull.

“I’ve been sure about you since the night we met. Get it through your head, dork. I’m not going anywhere. If I was, I’d certainly have left before now.”

You scoffed. “Ouch.”

She shrugged, grinning a little. “I’m just saying! I had plenty of outs. I didn’t take them. I didn’t want to.”

“You promise?” you asked, but at this point you were just fishing for affirmation. You knew Emily. You knew she meant what she said.

“Y/N,” she said, staring down at you so forcefully you couldn’t help but laugh. “I married you.”

“And don’t you forget it,” you said, grasping her hand and kissing the inside of her wrist.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Play Pretend

Jake Lockley x F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • MK Bingo 2024 Masterlist • ko-fi •

Summary: Jake doesn't have much experience in more... intimate matters.

🌛For @moonknight-events MK Bingo Spring 2024 Event🌜

A/N: Okay, so I'm not super happy with this. I don't know. Anyway, I feel like I'm always saying this but my head is really bad with editing atm. I'm sure I've missed so many typos. I'm so sorry.

Warnings: set in Steven's flat (UK), swearing, loss of virginity, p in v sex, fingering, oral sex (both m and f receiving), overuse of italics, typos, railroad sentences, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 4909

Jake shifted a little nervously as he rested his head on your chest, despite the comforting weight of your arm around him. 

He was half laying on you as you were sitting on the sofa, his feet resting on the armrest as you both watched… something on TV. You watched, Jake just couldn’t focus. Even though he normally adored being snuggled up on the settee next to you, savoured any time you both had together. 

He moved again, trying to keep it as minimal as possible so as to not bother you. Slowly he tensed and untensed his legs, switching it so that one was over the other and then back around again.

There was a deep heat growing at the base of his spine, an ache between his legs. He swallowed. Maybe he could excuse himself to the bathroom, rub one out quickly and then come back to your embrace without getting hard like a horny teenager just because you were close. 

It was embarrassingly really. How often this happened. Sometimes you didn’t even have to physically be around, just smelling your scent lingering around the flat was enough at times. The feel of your jumper in the wardrobe when it brushed against his hand as he got dressed in the morning. The photo of you and Marc at the park on the side table. That time Steven accidentally used your shower gel instead of his own. 

He shifted again. Maybe he could-

“You okay?” 

He jumps despite the softness of your voice and turns his head quickly to look at you, a little wide-eyed. “Yeah?” He answers a fraction too quickly to be considered ‘okay’. 

You give him a bemused smile. “You sure?” 

“Hmmhmm.” 

For a moment you pause, just cocking your head to the side ever so slightly as you regard him and Jack as to practically bite the inside of his cheeks to stop himself from groaning out loud. Why, oh why, did you have to look so adorable when you did that? 

“You need to sneak off to the bathroom?” You ask innocently, but there’s a telltale mischief to your eyes that makes Jake’s blood run cold. 

“I, erm, what are you talking about amor?” 

You gesture with your chin to his not-so-subtle budge in Steven’s sweatpants. 

“A…” He shifts again, thinking about grabbing a pillow to place over himself for a second before realising how silly that would be. You already knew what he was hoping to hide. “Maybe.” 

You smile and kiss his cheek. “That’s okay, you can go. I’m not gonna judge you. You know I don’t want you to sit here and be all uncomfortable.” 

“Hmm.” He gives you a small smile, a light dusting of pink highlighting his cheeks and the very top of his ears. “Sorry.” 

You frown a little and speak kindly. “What are you sorry for, silly?” You lightly stroke the shell of his right ear as you talk, just brushing your fingers along the outside and tucking a few errand curls behind it. 

He shivers. You know what you’re doing. 

“For…” He gestures to his crotch and you giggle. 

“I could…” You bite your lip a little a you speak and Jake pinches his thigh to keep control of himself. “Help you out with it? If you want?” There’s a little nervousness to your words, a worry of overstepping a boundary. 

While you had been physical with Marc and Steven for a while now, the most you had done with Jake had been to kiss and hold hands. Not that you minded. Jake was his own person and you wanted to go at his pace, take your time with the more intimate side of things. Or, never have that kind of relationship with him at all. You were just happy to spend time with him. 

He didn’t really like talking about that side of your relationship, and you didn’t want to push him. 

Jake’s blush grew darker. “I… erm…”

You resisted the urge to gently tease him about his loss for words. 

“I…” He closed his eyes, blurting out his words and screwing his face up afterwards. “I’m a virgin.” 

“Oh.” You said in surprise. That certainly wasn’t what you expected him to say. 

He opened his eyes quickly, a tense look of fear pinching at his features and you quickly realised your mistake. 

“No,” you say quickly as you reach out and stroke his hands, embracing them in your warmth. “I mean ‘oh’ as in, ‘oh, I didn’t think you were gonna say that’, not ‘oh, that’s a problem’.” 

The tension in his shoulders viably relaxed slightly and he gave you a weak smile. Looking down briefly at your hands and stroking your knuckles with his fingers. 

“So… you’ve never done anything… sexual before?” 

Your own tiptoeing around the word makes you wince. 

“Just sort of kissing, I guess.” He looks up to you with his large, soft eyes. “Is that a problem?” 

“No, no, no,” you say quickly, “no at all just… yeah, surprising.”

He raises an eyebrow at you. 

“Well,” you nudge him playfully with your shoulder, “I don’t know if you know this, but you are very pretty.” 

Jake snorts, grinning from ear to ear. “I’ve been told.”

You smile back at him before softly brushing his hair behind his ear again, savouring his little hiver. “You know we don’t have to do anything, right? There’s never any pressure, I want you to know that. I’m more than happy just to be with you like this. I love you, it doesn’t have to be physical.” 

He nuzzles into your hand, kissing your wrist. “I know,” he whispers, “and thank you, for saying it out loud I mean.” 

You stroke his cheek as he talks.

“It’s not that I don’t want to… and I know you’ve technically been with the body before, it’s just that…”  

You stay quiet as you caress his face, letting him take his time. 

“I don’t want to disappoint you.” 

As the last words leave his lips a little crack forms in your heart.

“You could never disappoint me, Jake.” 

He smiles but tuts. “You know what I mean… inexperienced isn’t exactly code for ‘giving their partner’s good time’, right?” 

“I’ll have a good time no matter what because I’m with you.” You give him a soft kiss and he smiles.

“That’s not what I mean Amor,” but he kisses you again. “Thank you though, it’s just…” he pauses, thinking carefully on how best to explain himself. Out of the three of them Jake is always the one who thinks most about what they say before they say it. “It’s just, I didn’t want to just… be with someone for the sake of it, I wanted it to be with… someone special, someone I care about. And now…”

“You’re still waiting for that someone special.” You nod solemnly as you tease. 

Jake glares at you playfully, ticking your side until you giggle and hold up your hands. 

“Sorry, sorry,” you mutter between laughter. 

“You should be.” He leans close and lightly nips at your neck. “Be thankful that I’m in a forgiving mood.” 

You grin and kiss his nose. 

“You are my someone special,” he continues sincerely, “and I want it to be enjoyable for you, I want you to…” he trails off and looks down for a second. You can see that hint of a blush returning. 

“You want me to…?”

He bites his lip and swallows. “I want you to look and sound like you do with Marc and Steven.”

You smile cheekily. “You watch?” 

He avoids your gaze. “Sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” 

“Almost all the time.” 

“Almost?” 

“99.9%.”

“What’s wrong with the .0?” You say, pretend indignation in your voice. 

“I’m sleeping.” 

His matter of fact tone takes you by surprise and you laugh loudly. 

“Fair enough.” You stroke his cheek again. 

“You don’t mind?” 

You shake your head. “Marc might. Maybe.” You shrug. “You’d have to ask him.”

“I’m definitely not doing that.” 

“Steven won’t care.” 

Jake nods. “That’s true. Exhibitionist that one, for certain.” 

You laugh again and then pause as both of you look at each other for a long moment. 

“Why don’t we play pretend for a bit? Help you relax and get out of your head?” You ask.

He thinks for a moment before he opens his mouth, a smirk on his lips. “I think it’s called ‘role play’ amor.” 

You tut.

“All I’m saying is I shouldn’t be the one who knows more in this situation-” Jake yelps as you cut him off by tickling him this time. He jumps back from your reach and grins. “Unfair.” 

You poke your tongue out at him. 

Which he promptly returns before he smiles. “Alright, let's play pretend’.”  He sits up straight on the sofa, his hands neatly in his lap as he waits for your direction. 

You give him a brief suspicious look, Jake was never usually one to agree and behave without having some ulterior motive. 

“Alright,” you say a little suspiciously as you settle down next to him. “You can stop this at any point you want, okay?” 

Jake nods once. 

“Okay, so,” you give him a little glance and see he’s listening intently. “I’m thinking, ‘where’s Jake the most comfortable?’”

“In bed.” He interrupts cheekily. 

You snort. “No. I was going to say, driving.”

“Driving’s not very comfortable.”

“Jake-”

“Not here anyway, roads are tiny.”

“Jake-”

“And everyone’s an asshole.”

“Okay, that’s true.”

He grins. 

“But, humour me, yeah?” 

He nods. “Consider yourself humoured.” 

“Alright, driving. So, we’re in the car, you're driving.”

“I’m on the wrong side.”

“Jake.”

“I’m on your left.”

“Well, we’re in America now.” 

“How did we get here?”

“Jake.”

“Did we fly?” 

“Jake.” 

“Marc’s gonna be pissed if we don’t get some pizza, I can tell you that-”

You shut him up by kissing him deeply. While it may not always be the most convenient method of silencing him, it certainly is the most effective. 

He kisses you back desperately, sinking into your embrace and bringing up his hand to lightly caress your cheek as you lick into his mouth. 

You know why he’s talking so much. The action so unlike Jake. He’s nervous. 

He moans softly as you pull back a fraction, trying to follow your lips. 

“I should really be keeping my eyes on the road.” He teases, his voice low and wrecked. 

“Well, it’s a good job we’re on the settee then, isn’t it?” You wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer and pressing your lips back to his. 

You swallow down his softly whimpered moans and trail your hand down his chest. You keep the action slow, deliberate. So he has plenty of time to feel where you're headed, and to stop you if he wants. 

You lightly palm his erection through his jogging bottoms and he hisses in a breath, his hips bucking up towards your touch as he keeps kissing you. 

His hands wrap around you, pulling you closer as he trails his lips down to your jaw, pressing soft kisses along the bone before slipping further down to your neck. 

You press a little harder, running your hand up and down his clothed length and massaging his heavy balls. His cock twitches under your actions, warm and throbbing. 

Jake hisses in a breath, “please.” His voice is so quiet you almost can’t hear him, can distinguish his words from moans as he presses his lips to your skin and sucks lightly. 

You tangle your free hand in his hair, pulling lightly at the curls to make him whine as you hook your fingers under his waistband and pull his trousers down. 

Jake groans, squirming a little and lifting his hips quickly, grabbing hold of the material and yanking his boxers and jogging bottoms down to his knees, keeping his mouth at your neck the whole time. 

The heat coming off his skin almost burns. Even without seeing his face you know that deep blush is back, the one that spreads across his skin like ink and makes you lightheaded from desperation for him. 

Languidly you run the tip of your finger down his length, savouring the way his cock jumps and twitches under your attention. The head is ruddy and swollen, a bead of forming precum seeping out from the slit that begs you to swipe it away with your tongue. 

You wrap your fingers around his girth, a not quite firm enough grip, and pump him twice in long, slow movements.

He sucks in a breath, shivering and muffling his moans against you, his fingers tightening on your side as if you’ll move away. As if you would ever want to leave him like this, aching and needy. 

You dip your hand lower, massaging his balls again and the little sound Jake lets out is the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard. 

“Fuck,” you breathe and quickly pull away from his hold. 

Jake makes a small sound of distress for a moment, thinking you’re stopping, before he realises what you’re doing. 

You lean down, taking hold of his cock and pumping him slowly as you lick along his tip with the flat of your tongue.

Jake groans, throwing his head back against the sofa and balling his hands into fists at his sides. 

You repeat the action again, and again. Lapping at his slit and spreading his precum across your tongue. 

He gasps, his thigh muscles twitching as he fights to keep still and not buck up into your mouth. 

“This okay?” You ask between licks. 

“Yes, ah,  yes, really okay.” He whimpers, squirming a little and biting his lip. “Please don’t stop.” 

“I won’t.” You whisper and lightly suck at his head, moaning as he slips into your mouth, and swirling your tongue around him. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” his hips buck up a fraction before he catches himself and forces them back down against the cushions. “Sorry,” his words are muffled as he grits his jaw, bites his lip and tries to not completely lose it after barely thirty seconds. 

You hum, pressing your tongue flat against him and let yourself slide further down, swallowing and sucking on his greedily. 

“Oh, shi-” he catches himself, fighting every instinct to give in and chase his pleasure. He bites his bottom lip hard, drowning in pleasure and not even trying to come up for air. 

His sighs and pants echo around the flat as you move faster, sink lower, until he hits the back of your throat. 

He gasps loudly, a string of swears thumping out of his throat in a rush. 

Then suddenly, his hands are on your jaw, lightly lifting you back up and off him. “Stop, stop, stop,” he rushes the words together and you move back quickly. 

Your mouth is barely off him before he’s pulling you into a searing embrace, his tongue dancing with your own and licking his precum from your lips. 

“You, you,” he mutters, one hand pulling at your jeans and undoing the button. “You, need you,” you’re not sure if he even realises he’s speaking, his thoughts bypassing any check system and coming straight out of his mouth. 

He pushes you back against the sofa and you let him, let his strong, warm hands guide you and push your jeans and underwear down your thighs just enough so that he can touch you. 

He sighs loudly as he strokes between your legs, the sound almost as if you were the one touching him and not the other way around. 

You moan his name, pulling at his shoulders.

“Show me, show me,” he mutters into your mouth, “please.” 

You grab hold of his hand, pressing his thumb against your clit and showing him the soft circles you like. He follows your directions eagerly, his large dark eyes mesmerised as he watches. 

When you press his fore and middle finger towards your slick entrance he moans again, gently pushing inside and shivering. 

“You’re really wet.” He mutters, trying to control his breathing. Slowly he pulls his fingers out before pushing them back in, revelling in the sound your arousal makes. “Is that,” he repeats the action, his eyes flicking up to your face, “is that okay? Feel okay?” 

You nod, keeping a gentle hold on his forearm. “Just, fuck, thumb’s great, just, sort of curl your fingers a little bit and-” Your sharp moan cuts over whatever you were going to say next as pleasure runs up your spine like lightning. 

“Like that?” He whispers, his voice thick and heavy, his pupils blown wide.

You nod desperately, rolling your hips to chase the sensation of his fingers. “Like that.” 

He groans a little, pressing closer so he can lightly kiss your neck, alternating between sucking at your skin and looking up to watch your face in a blissed out rapture. 

“What made you so wet, hmm?” He mutters into your ear, rocking his hips against you so that his painfully hard cock rubs against your thigh. 

“Fuck,” you hiss as the tips of his fingers brush perfectly inside. 

“Hmm?” He asks needily, practically begging, as if he hasn’t got you at his mercy. 

“You.” You manage to stammer out.

“Me?” 

“You.” 

“You like sucking my cock that much?” He groans, having to pinch his side with his free hand to stop his eyes from rolling back in his head. 

You nod desperately, bucking up into his hand as you chase your orgasm. “Yeah.” Your voice comes out as a pathetic whine and Jake growls. 

He watches you for a few more seconds, trying to keep hitting that spot that makes you mewl under him.

Suddenly, he stops, pulling back his hand and you practically sob, tugging lightly on his wrist to try to keep him inside of you. 

“Jake,” a deep down part of you wishes you didn’t sound quite so needy, but most of you doesn’t care in the slightest.  

“Put your mouth on me again please,” he mutters, his voice rushed and breathless as he urges you down towards his cock with his hand on your upper back. 

You nod, moving quickly to lick a long stripe up the length of him that has him moaning like a whore. 

You take him back into your mouth quickly, sucking him as deep as you can and further still. Jake’s whimpers spurring you on. 

He keeps one hand on your back, nearly at the base of your neck, pressing down ever so slightly to guide your tempo. While he shoves his middle and forefinger into his mouth and groans at the taste of your arousal. 

He moans loudly, his chest vibrating with the sound. “Amor,” his voice is thick, on the verge of breaking, “fuck you taste-” he gasps as you sink lower, your own sounds of pleasure echoing along his cock. 

He bites back a sob. “Taking such good care of me, you taste so sweet,” he sucks on his fingers, desperately trying to find every single trace of your slink that he can. The wet sounds cut over your own, somehow louder in your ears than your racing heartbeat and your mouth around his hot, thick cock.

Jake’s eyebrows pinch together as the ball of pleasure starts to tighten uncontrollably in the base of his stomach, pushing him higher and higher and so close to tumbling off the edge. 

“Amor,” he whines, biting his lip and gently pulling you off his throbbing cock for the second time. 

A thin trail of salvia connects you for a brief moment. You pout a little at being coaxed away from him again, Jake savours your expression for a heartbeat before kissing your swollen lips once, twice. His hands on either side of your face, stroking your cheeks as he slips his tongue into your mouth and squirms in his seat. 

He breaks the kiss briefly to tug off his own trousers, reconnects your lips with a groan and tries to get your jeans off without moving away again. 

You chuckle lightly at his impatient scoff when it doesn’t quite go to plan. He scowls at your clothing, as if it was purposefully being difficult. Swearing lightly under his breath before looking down and tugging them off. You pull your top off at the same time, burning with need. Desperate to feel his skin against yours so keenly that it is almost to the point of pain. 

“Lay back please,” he mutters as he tugs your legs free and clambers between your thighs. His hands dig in just enough to send a shiver along your nerves, twisting deeply at your core. His stubble grazing over your skin as he places sloppy kisses on your inner knee, trailing upwards and nipping lightly. 

He moves hastily, forgoing any pretence of being able to hold himself together as he gazes at your aching pussy. He darts out his tongue, licking one long swipe through your folds and up to your clit, closing his eyes and moaning at the taste wantonly. 

“Fuck, Jake, I-”

He plunges two fingers back inside you, curling them exactly how you instructed and you all but scream. Your breath stolen from you as he flicks his tongue against your clit, circling one way and then the other before latching on and sucking it into his mouth, trying to follow directions from hazy encounters he watched quietly in the headspace. 

When you grab hold of his hair, your hips arching up into his mouth he groans, opening his eyes so that he can see the look of pleasure on your face. How you contort under his touch. 

He sobs, rutting needily against the sofa, the expression on your face almost too much to bear. 

You buck against him unthinkingly, your body taking over as you need to chase your high. His name falls from your lips in whimpered gasps, separated only but pleas and muttered praises. 

You guide the back of his head, encouraging him to lap at you in time with your hips and he follows your directions instantly, pressing closer and moaning against you so much that the sensation nearly has you screaming.

Your thighs shake as you bite your lips together, muscles tensing and waves of pleasure begin to build and build and build, threatening to drag you down over the edge in one fell sweep and-

Jake pulls back quickly, the bottom half of his face shining with his slavia and your slick. You groan in frustration as he moves, but let go of him so as to not pull at his hair. 

“Jake,” you say, a spike of irritation weaving through your words. 

He moans at your tone, his eyes glazing over ever so slightly. “I’m sorry, please,” he rubs your thighs, kneading his fingers into your skin as his own hips rock and buck against nothing but the air. 

His cock is red, leaking and almost painful looking with how hard he is. It bobs up and down with every movement, almost pleading with you to take pity. 

“Please what?” You whisper. 

Jake shuffles back into a sitting position, both feet flat on the floor. He looks at you a little uncertainly for a split second before he pushes the emotion down. “Please come and fuck yourself on my cock.” He says quietly, as if he was truly asking you for a favour and not letting you have everything you want.

You all but jump into his lap, pulling off the rest of your clothing and kissing him hard. He moans against your lips, following every movement desperately as he places his hands gently on your hips. 

With the last fragment of your rapidly disintegrating self-control, you manage to pull away from him just far enough to speak. “You sure?” 

It’s like he doesn’t hear you, too drunk on your touch for your words to make sense. He moves forward, trying to kiss you again. But you hold him back a little, pressing your hands against his cheeks softly but firmly until his eyes meet yours, his eyebrows pinched in puzzlement. 

“Are you sure you want to do this? I don’t want to rush you, we can-”

“Please.” He practically sobs. The break in his voice at the end of the word rings so loudly in the room that you're surprised it doesn’t echo. You’ve never heard him so needy before. 

“Please,” he repeats, “I want to, I want you. If… if you’ll have me, if you-”

You cut off any self-destructive thought that was destined to fall out of his mouth with your lips on his. 

“If I’ll fucking have you,” you mutter against him, raising up on your knees and taking him in your hand. You line him up with your entrance before you sink slowly down. 

Jake gasps, grabbing hold of you and squeezing you tight. His face pressed into your chest as you hold his shoulder, kiss his temple as you ease him inside. 

He bites his lip, trying and failing to hold back a whimper, but succeeding in keeping his hips still. 

You gently turn his face towards you by his chin as you bottom out, kissing his plump lips once, twice before you speak. “You okay?” 

He nods, completely lost in the feel of you squeezing around him. “I’m not gonna last.” 

“That’s okay,” you smile sweetly, stroking his hair.

But Jake shakes his head. “It’s not, I want you to-”

“Hey, hey,” you soothe, “I’m having a good time, okay?” You smile and gently take one of his hands and guide it between your legs to your clit. “Here, remember what I showed you?”

He nods, looking up at you like you painted the sky and quickly begins those soft circles that have you clenching around him and moaning softly. 

He lets out a choked sob. “Can feel you.” He mutters. “Feel you… squeezing, and fuck, so warm, and wet, and tight and-” he swallows his words, groaning loudly, his eyes closing as you start to slowly move, using his shoulders for leverage. 

His fingers don’t falter though. 

The stretch of him is so good it burns, pressing hard and deep inside and threatening to crack you open at any given second. 

You keep your movements steady, rising up and sinking back down, watching his every expression intently. The bob of his throat. The lines of concentration on his forehead.

His thighs shake, his lip so tightly between his teeth that it’s losing colour. 

“You want me to go faster?” You whisper and he grounds, nodding rapidly. 

You can’t help but smile as warmth runs along your veins. How much he trusts you to take care of him, how hard he’s trying to stay still. 

You kiss him hard, forcing him to stop biting his lip and let out the sweet sounds he’s been trying to hamper. He takes hold of your face with his free hand, caressing your cheek as you slide your tongue into his mouth. 

You pick up your pace, truly riding him and he moans. 

“Amor…”

“Move with me.” You mutter, rolling your hips and encouraging him to buck up and do the same. 

He whines, but nods, kissing you deeping as he fucks up into you as you set a brutal pace. 

The slide of his thick cock makes your spine bend, your body moving on autopilot as you chase your high. Your breath catches in your throat as he hits deep. Your fingers tighten around his shoulders, digging into his sweat soaked skin. 

Jake's eyes snap open, watching you intently and angling his hips to try to hit that spot again. 

“Please, please, please,” he mumbles with every thrust, not sure what he’s asking for but knowing that he’s desperate for it. 

You tense, your muscles clenching as bliss begins to burn at the edge of your vision. “Jake, Jake, fuck.”

“Yes, please, please,” he moans, obsessed with how your lips part, your eyes shut as you get close, “please.” His thumb swirls messily over your clit, slick with sweat and your wetness, he pushes you closer.

The slap of skin is nearly as long as both of your moans as you bounce relentlessly on his cock, his balls slapping against your ass cheeks. 

Stars begin to swell behind his eyes, pleasure spiralling in the base of his spine. “I can’t, I’m gonna- please!”

It’s a sobbed beg that pushes you over the edge. How desperate he is for you. How needy. How shamelessly open with what he wants. 

You swear as pleasure crackles over your skin, burns through your veins as you come. Jake groans loudly, following you a fraction of a second later and gasping as you squeeze his cock, milking him for every last drop he has to spend. 

He buries himself deep, pressing his face into your chest. For a second he’s weighty, floating somewhere high above everything, somewhere warm and safe. 

And then your hands stroke his arms, your lips kiss his sweaty forehead, and he can feel you, your warmth, your everything holding him tight and keeping him safe. 

“You okay?” You stroke his hair softly and smile when he looks up at you. 

He nods and grins, pressing his lips to yours in a long, soft kiss. “I think I like play pretend amor.” 

You snort. “Oh, do you?” 

“Hmm, we’ll have to do it again.” 

____________________________________________

Thank you for reading!

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[bun-z-bakery]

what if dogday got into baking? , maybe you could try writing about him learning to baking stuff?

✧. ┊𝑊ℎ𝑖𝑠𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝛢𝑤𝑎𝑦

A/N: This was such a cute ask! I hope you enjoy! This ones short but still sweet!^^

Making sure Dogday was out of the kitchen was your top priority during mealtimes. 

You know he means well, but you didn't want to run the risk of him breaking more plates or setting anything on fire… again. 

You sat outside on the grass, enjoying the fresh air and nice breeze on your skin. 

Dogday decided to sleep in, Poppy and Kissy wandered around looking for flowers which meant you had some much needed alone time. 

The sound of pots crashing made you jump to your feet. Quickly you rushed inside and called out for Dogday. 

“I-In here.”

You rush to the kitchen, stopping at the doorway as you take in the mess. 

“Angel, before you get mad-”

You couldn't help but laugh. 

Dogday stares at you with a confused expression and tilts his head. 

As much as you wanted to, you couldn't be mad when he's covered in flour and holding a tiny whisk in his giant hand. 

“Anddd what have you been up to?”

You snort as you get closer and dust some flour off of his nose. 

“Angel I'm sorry, I'll help you clean up…”

He sighs in defeat. 

You noticed he was standing oddly and quickly tickled his sides, making him squirm in the process. 

“Dogday what's this?”

You hold up the baking book you never remembered buying. 

It was slightly sticky from the batter but the pages were still very noticeably new. 

“it gets boring here… And wanted to learn something that might lessen some of your responsibilities…”

He looks like a puppy that's being reprimanded. You couldn't help but chuckle. 

Adorable. 

You thought to yourself. 

“Dogday I'm not mad I'm happy you're trying something new! A $20 book on the other hand-”

“$20?!”

“Tell you what,”

You skim through the pages while he curiously hovers over you. You slam your finger down on the page that had the most delicious looking cake in the photo reference. 

“Make this and if it tastes good then I'll let you off the hook!”

Your proposition seemed to have made him perk up. 

He grabs onto his tail to avoid any more damage to the kitchen. 

“Alright deal! Let me work my magic.”

He points the comically tiny whisk at you and you raise your hands in defeat. 

“Alright alright, I'll be on standby.”

You joke as you leave him to his experiment. 

Throughout his time in the kitchen, the sound of pots and spoons falling and the smell of something burning made you question if letting him bake would lead to a house fire. 

“Sunshine, how's it go-”

You look around the kitchen, your mouth agape. 

“You act like I don't clean up after myself.”

He shakes his head in disbelief with the little faith you had in him. 

The kitchen was almost spotless, impressive was an understatement.

He motions towards the cake he had made and calls out to the others for a taste. 

“Wow it smells great Dogday!”

Poppy exclaims as soon as she and Kissy walk in. 

“It does smell pretty promising!”

You agree before taking a seat at the table. 

Once everyone is served and seated, you begin to inspect the cake. It seemed well made and you were eager to taste it now. 

“Alright on the count of 3!”

You say as you four hold a piece of cake near your mouths. 

“3,2,1!”

“...”

“It's… good?”

Your words instantly shift his mood. 

His tail begins to wag as he continues to eat his slice. 

“Does this mean I can help out in the kitchen?!”

Dogday’s eyes light up. Seeing him heartbroken after such an accomplishment would crush you. 

“Fine, if you can keep the mess to a minimum.”

“Deal!”

A/N: I got my PC back!! this is my first post using my pc and wow is it 10 times easier than on my phone. I've been a bit busy recently but keep sending in requests! I'm still working on a few projects and will post them hopefully soon! If you read this far dont forget to reblog and like <3

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine Vergil Protecting You After You're Injured

Vergil X FemReader

Rating: T+

Warnings: Blood, violence, reader is wounded

Word Count: 767

(A/N:) Sorry I have been MIA folks! But I'm back and hopefully will be writing more and getting back into the swing of things. I've been wanting to write, but every time I sat down the words alluded me. So I took a little bit of a break and focused more on my artwork. Now I hope to continue to give attention to both my hobbies. So keep an eye for more stories in the future! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

Vergil never felt that having back-up in fights was necessary, as he felt perfectly capable of taking care of business on his own. Power was his only goal in mind as he fought. Becoming the best, becoming stronger. Leaving himself unquestionably the best and most powerful being in existence. Leaving his brother Dante in the dust, like the vermin he is. Then Vergil came across you, a devil hunter in your own right, and he begrudgingly acknowledged your skills in the art of slaying demons. It was a fluke, he had told himself, that you ran into him hunting the same hoard of devils. It was a fluke that you fought alongside him perfectly. A fluke that you had his inner devil half purring at your nearness. Now it was a common occurrence for you both to take missions together.

What had changed his mind about you, he couldn't remember. And now it seemed abnormal whenever you weren't at his side. You were a fragile human, completely mortal, but your powers and strength made even the most powerful of the devil hoards cower and fall by your blade. Vergil refused to let you forget your humanness, but as you were always quick with retorts. You made sure that Vergil never forgot that he was also half human. He tried really hard to forget that, in his pursuit of power that his father and stupid twin brother had given up for the side of humanity. Vergil would scoff, roll his eyes, and march away leaving you to sprint to catch up. But he couldn't fight the small grin coming to his lips, despite trying to hide it, of course you'd notice and not leave him alone until you were satisfied in embarrassing him.

Once again you and Vergil found yourselves taking on another hoard of demons. This group had dug deep into a small town and refused to go down easy. Slash marks marred your face and despite blood flowing into one eye, you refused to back down. Vergil snarled for you to run away, but you stubbornly widened your stance ready to face another wave of attack. All he could do was curse you loudly and hope to keep your now blind side protected while you protected your other side. Limbs and heads of demons falling at your feet, until a Sin Scythe cut through it's own allies just to plunge the scythe into your guts.

Your cries of pain shattered Vergil's concentration as he watched in horror as you crumbled to the ground. His devil side raging inside as the scythe was pulled from your still form. He trigged in blind rage stepping in front of your fallen form and taking out the rest of the hoard in a wave of power. He tried to calm himself, to switch back but all he could manage was a few of his limbs and most of his facial features. Spittle flew from his lips as he tried to soothe his fury, while he checked for a pulse. Your heartbeat met his scaly fingertips and when he pressed a warm hand to your wound, you whined. He snarled more and your eyes fluttered open.

"Vergil?"

"You're losing a lot of blood," he replied. His voice deeper than normal, but that had to do with the fact he was fighting hard to keep from fully transforming again as the blood in his veins continued to boil in anger.

"How many are left," you panted. Always worried about the mission instead of yourself and it made him roll his eyes.

"Dead," his blunt reply made you stop asking questions. Your eyes clouded in pain Vergil scooped you up easily. "We have to get this taken care of."

"Vergil," you gasped. "Slow down. It feels like I'm coming apart at the seams."

"You'll just have to hang on a little bit longer. Until we can get clear so I can use the Yamato to open a portal."

"If you say so." You grumbled. "But don't complain if my innards stain your pretty clothes."

"I'm more worried about losing you."

Vergil's reply stunned you both and his body began to tense until you gently cupped his cheek.

"I'm not going anywhere," you promised.

"Good because I'll tease you for eternity for being taken out by a Sin Scythe," he smirked and you pinched his nose in protest. While your warm blood, had him fighting the anger inside, Vergil's top priority was to take care of you first and then go make more demons' lives living nightmares for even laying a finger on you.