#NEVER APOLOGIZE FOR YOUR AWESOME WRITING!!

[nkn0va]

Helltaker request: Modeus, Azazel, Justice, and Pandemonica constantly stealing their S/O's hoddies even though it's a little big on them.

You know now that I think about it I do envision that as being on the shorter side

Man, I'm really skirting the line between NSFW and SFW when I write for Modeus, huh?

Modeus

-You already know, Modeus does it out of horny.

-The first time she does so, it's when you're out of the house doing something, she usually sneaks into your room. This time though her eyes seemed to drift over to your closet, and she got an idea.

-She opened the door, scanning for what she wanted in particular before she found a hoodie of yours, and immediately pulled if off the hanger before she could even think.

-Putting it on, she starts to get turned on just by the smell and feel of it, reminding her of you. Just in less wholesome ways than what is traditionally expected.

-She doesn't really give a shit or think about being subtle about it, you eventually find out what she's been doing by the...distinctive smell on your hoodies you soon pick up on.

-Whether you decide to enable or attempt to stop this behavior is up to you, but regardless, she will be coming up with new ways to get her hands on your hoodies. What the power of horny does to a person...

Azazel

-The complete fucking opposite of Modeus lmao.

-Spending her entire life up until she met you in Heaven, she's not used to the uncontrolled conditions of Earth, the realm of God having perfect, warm weather all the time. She gets cold extremely easily.

-It was currently the middle of December so winter was in full swing. Her normal coats weren't cutting it anymore now that the snow had decided to do a bit of trolling and break the heating system in the house.

-She really, really didn't want to take anything from you without permission, but at this rate she didn't have a choice if she didn't want to get sick, so she very reluctantly took a hoodie from your closet.

-You were larger than her by a fair bit, leading to the hoodie being one or two sizes too big. This does work out in warming her up though, to the point she loses track of time.

-You come home only to find the angel snuggled up in your hoodie, causing her to freeze up before apologizing very profusely, turning red as a cherry all the while. Please reassure her it's no problem and she can do it if she wants, she will love you even more for it once she can get over it.

Justice

-Out of everyone here, Justice is by far the most relax and upfront about things in general, this is no exception.

-She can't exactly see, but going through the clean laundry, she picked out a hoodie she'd never felt before, and figured it was yours. So she decided the only natural course of action was to put it on and ask how it looked.

-Does not give a fuck, will casually walk up to you and ask if it looks good on her. Spoiler: it does. She is not the awesome demon for nothing.

-You can definitely trust her more than most with your stuff, which Justice uses to wear your hoodies whenever she wants. It may be sweaty if she wears it after a workout or something but she's at least courteous enough to wash it after she's done without you needing to ask.

-You can't bring yourself to be mad at her, not when she's one of the only mentally sane demons out there.

-She does in fact rock your clothes, probably better than you do.

Pandemonica

-Due to living in Hell her whole life until coming up to Earth with you, she's used to the infernal, burning environment, a bit too much. When winter or cold weather in general strikes, she falls apart, she was never one for the frontlines like Justice or Judgement.

Whenever she has to work one of these days, she'll announce that she's borrowing a hoodie from your closet before she retreats to her room to continue working.

-It's easy to sympathize with the tired demon, knowing that denizens of Hell were not accustomed to cold temperatures. It was only right of you to help her be as comfortable as possible while she's in your home.

-Speaking of such, bring her some coffee and put an air humidifier in her room while she's working, she will appreciate that more than she can put into words. Keeps her from getting sick while you're at it, which she cannot afford from how hard being a receptionist of Hell pushes her.

-(And it also helps lower your chances of getting your fingers broken when she's no longer tired which is definitely a plus.)

[the-auguer]

I feel like I should apologize in advance for the upcoming chapters of my DWBD AU cus I realized Mammon’s your favorite but I often write him as a big meanie in that AU 😅😅😅

NO WAY!!! Don’t ever apologize for it! Mammon is my babygirl and my fav, but he’s also a mean little shit. It’s almost a game to me to read him being so mean, I find it so funny and fun. I wrote about your replaced!mc au, but I’ve also thought really hard about writing about how Mammon dangled your dwbd!mc off a roof.

I think that Mammon’s nastier side DOES exist and it’s always really interesting when creators explore it bc for the most part creators don’t really. He’s rude, he’s obnoxious, he’s an ass. All of these traits coincide with him being the sweetest loser in existence.

Also, him being mean to dwbd!mc just paved the way for angst in the future, and I love some good angst 👹👹👹

[tetzoro]

the day the earth stood still is the day i felt your presence leave it, and then every day after that.

[sanguineterrain]

Kurt wagner and tail stuff!!! I love that boy! I love how you write! I love the tail! Smashing them together we got a a little piece of heaven! So Kurt wagner with s/o and some tail action pretty please!!

(Like if you need some more then that: for example, the times before they were together Kurt’s tail always seemed to gravitate towards reader (I’m an advocate that Kurt’s tail is like a fricking mood ring) wrapping around them, touching them. The times when they were together! And the time reader wraps their hand or something around his tail or something)

Love your writing! You’re awesome and amazing! And I want to say in advance, thank you so so much for doing this ask! I will treasure it dearly! And if you don’t do the ask then thank you so so much to taking the time to read it! Have a lovely day!

ouuu this is a sweet request <3 tail boy! thanks nonnie :) hopefully I did him justice 🫶 changed the request a bit but kept the same idea about the tail. may write a part 2... we'll see!

kurt wagner (nightcrawler) x gn!reader. fluff, cooking, gambit and rogue trying to talk some sense into the reader.

note: I tried to capture kurt and gambit's accents. however, as always, I'm open to feedback on them. It's definitely not my intention to offend or miswrite anyone!

****

The smell of bubbling cheese wafts from your pot as you stir. It's been a while since you were able to cook for yourself and have a nice meal, always running out to do something or another for the good of the planet.

"Smells good," comes a familiar voice. A moment later, a tail curls around your wrist as you shake some paprika into the pot.

You look away from your stirring into golden, irisless eyes. Kurt grins at you.

"Mac 'n cheese," you say by way of greeting. "Want some?"

"Please und thank you."

Anytime you cook, you offer Kurt to share. You frequently have the thought that you spoil the hell out of him, but you can't help it.

He helps you out by putting away the milk and cheese. But he's never far; his tail remains on you. It slackens from your wrist, then explores up your arm and around your elbow.

It's nothing new, of course. The first thing you learned about Kurt Wagner is how physically affectionate he is.

"That tail seems to have a mind of its own, elfie," you say, smiling down at the pot.

"What do you mean?"

"It's always holding onto me." You turn off the burner.

"Ah." Kurt drops his tail. "My apologies. I can ease up, as you say."

You shake your head. "Don't. I don't mind. Never have."

So Kurt gives you one final tail squeeze. The fur on his arm tickles you as he brushes past. You watch him in confusion.

"Where are you going?" you ask, halfway through scooping two servings of the pasta.

"Not far," he says brightly. "Jean wanted me to bring spoons from the kitchen." He holds up three metal spoons with his tail.

"Spoons?"

He shrugs. "An experiment. Who am I to question a scientist's whim? I promise I will be fast."

He teleports away, and you have a mind to cover Kurt's bowl with a plate. You bring both bowls to the table. At last, a proper meal.

You don't mind eating alone, but that hardly ever happens with Kurt around. Even if he's just eaten, he'll nibble on whatever you've made. You don't know where he puts all that food—perhaps in another dimension—but he makes it a point to eat with you, regardless of whether you've cooked or not. Even if you're in the middle of the forest eating a tin of beans, Kurt will plant himself right next to you and keep you company.

He's a good friend. The best friend you've ever had, actually.

"Woo, smells good!"

Gambit comes in first, followed by Rogue, since the two are never seen apart anymore. Gambit, nosy that he is, makes a beeline to Kurt's covered bowl.

"And what's in here?" he asks, lifting the plate.

"That's Kurt's," you say. "You can get some from the pot."

"Mais, it's Kurt's, huh?" He glances at Rogue, who grins. "Hear that, chère? Not sure if I should take from the pot. Might take my head, too."

You squint as they share laughter. "What're you talking about?"

"Oh, nothin'," Rogue says sweetly, taking the seat diagonal to you. Gambit sits next to her.

Your frown deepens. "I didn't say you couldn't have some, G, I just—"

Gambit shakes his head. "Don't go worryin' 'bout that. I'm just teasin'. I think it's cute how you feed the furball."

"Excuse me, I feed myself first," you say, and shovel a forkful of pasta into your mouth.

You hate not being in the know. It happens frequently, being that you're not a mutant. You're here on a personal invitation from Charles due to your "technology skills."

Really, you'd been brought here to fix Cerebro. And after that, you'd sort of just... stayed at the school. Charles had offered you a room, Kurt had won your friendship (or, perhaps, you'd won his), and you'd never left.

"Well, what do you mean, anyway? So what if I feed Kurt," you say, unable to stand not knowing.

"Just seems like where you are, Kurt's never far," Rogue says, watching you eat.

"Yeah, so? He's my friend."

"Oh, un ami. Is that what we're callin' it?" Gambit asks, eyes gleaming with mirth.

"What else would you call it?"

They look at each other in that Siamese cats way. Often, you've had the thought that they can read each other's minds—no powers needed.

"You really don't know?" Rogue asks, voice softening.

"Know what?" you ask impatiently.

Gambit makes a quiet noise in his throat. "Y'all don't know. He's gone on you."

Your brows rise. "Kurt? Don't be silly, Remy."

"Oh, great. You're both in denial," Rogue says, rolling her eyes. "Haven't you noticed how touchy he is around ya? Always huggin' and clingin'."

"Kurt's like that with everybody," you say. "He's like that with Logan!"

"Mais, the tail, it never lies," Gambit says with all the wisdom of someone centuries older. "He don't go wrappin' that tail 'round anybody."

Rogue nods sagely. "True. And he's always puttin' that tail around you."

"But he's..." You put your fork down in frustration. "That's ridiculous. Kurt would've said—I mean, there would've been a sign. He would've told me. Kurt doesn't hide anything from me."

"This is new for him, honey," Rogue says. "He's never been in love for real. He's not gonna act rationally."

"Alors, look at it this way. La Raison parle, mais l'Amour chante. Hm? His body betray his words. It sings to you. Jus' like I sing to ma cherie."

He reaches to take Rogue's hand, eyes practically heart-shaped. Rogue lets him, smiling in that secret, shy way of hers whenever Gambit is sweet on her.

L'Amour...

"Kurt is not in love with me," you say. "End of story."

They both heave sighs.

"Just watch his tail," Rogue says. "Kurt can hide a lot, but he can't control how he—"

BAMF!

You flinch as Kurt teleports into the kitchen. He grins and waves, then bounces around the table to greet the others.

"I'm back!" he says. "I hope my mac did not get cold. Will you be eating with us?"

"No, that's okay," Rogue says, looking at you meaningfully behind Kurt's back. "Rain check. We've gotta go train."

Gambit winks at you. "See y'all."

They disappear quickly. Kurt turns to you, blissfully unaware of your newly formed nerves.

"I am sorry I was gone for so long," Kurt says, sitting down to his bowl. "Jean had some questions about my abilities. Apparently, she's trying to replicate them in a machine."

"That's okay," you say. "Rogue and G kept me company."

Kurt beams. "They are so good for that, yes?"

He shovels a mouthful of mac 'n cheese into his mouth and groans in appreciation. His tail instantly curls around your wrist.

"Amazing!" Kurt says. "Perhaps your special ability is your cooking, hm? I would believe it."

You laugh. "Danke, elfie."

"Bitte schön," he says, eyes lighting up at your German. He frequently informs everyone about how good your German is becoming, even though you hardly know ten phrases.

His tail begins to stroke your arm. You wonder if he's aware of it. If he knows how his tail betrays him.

But no, that's outrageous. And even if it was true, it's not like the feeling's mutual, right?

"Oh, and," Kurt says. "I got us tickets to that show you wanted to see. They're playing it at the theater downtown. We can go on Saturday, ja?"

"You... oh. Wow. I told you about that ages ago, Kurt. You remembered?"

"Why wouldn't I?" he says, tilting his head. Like it hadn't occurred to him to be anything less than thoughtful.

"No, I'm just—thank you. That's really nice of you."

Kurt beams. "I am excited to watch the green witch und her pink friend sing!"

He keeps eating, unaware of the way he's made your world tip on its axis. Because now you know.

You're in love with Kurt Wagner. And the feeling just might be mutual.

[transvampireboyfriend]

Here's a bit from a fic I'm not sure I'll ever start writing. for context, this is Corroded Coffin's first tour and they brought Steve along (bc Eddie would never even imagine having it any other way)

Jeff and Eddie are walking towards the green room discussing the way their melodies turned out at tonight's show, when Gareth catches up to them, a little winded,

"Hey," he pants, "Freak says he wants to try that tacos place we saw on our way into town, you guys up for it?"

Jeff simply nods and Eddie shrugs, "Sounds good" he answers,

Gareth claps them in the back and says to Eddie "Awesome, I'll go ask your wife",

He goes to skip ahead between them but Eddie grabs him by the scruff of his tshirt and yanks him back, causing his head to slap itself against Eddie's waiting palm.

Jeff snorts but Gareth isn't amused.

"OW dude! What the fuck?!" he demands with wide eyes. Eddie doesn't buy it for a second, launches into the same warning he always gives them,

"I told you! if he hears you saying that he could get really pissed, and then you'll get me into serious trouble!" he still has Gareth by the scruff, so he yanks him again for emphasis,

"Do you want me to be in serious trouble, man?" Gareth shakes his head, Eddie yanks again,

"Do you want me to be in serious trouble because of you?" Gareth frantically shakes his head but holds his palms up as he weasels out of Eddie's hold, half-laughing as he turns to face them and walking backwards as they advance,

"I do NOT say it around him!" Gareth defends, Jeff scoffs beside Eddie and Eddie just narrows his eyes,

"Plus, I told you that he's into you, man!" Gareth continues, Eddie rolls his eyes at that so he can't see the significant look Jeff gives him, agreeing with Gareth.

"This again" Eddie groans, "you're delusional. Just stop calling him that altogether and we'll be good," he insists.

Gareth just sighs "Fine. Can you go ask your very platonic friend, that you share a bed with every night, if he wants tacos? Or should we not even ask his opinion?"

Eddie flicks his ear and Gareth frowns dangerously, meeting the end of his rope.

Jeff says "Okay-" and holds his hands up placatingly, but Eddie doesn't like his chances so he sprints down the hall laughing and Gareth takes off hot in his heels.

Jeff groans as Freak catches up with him,

"Children." Freak states, tutting.

---

When Steve comes back to the green room he finds Eddie and Gareth wrestling on the floor.

"Um-" he starts and Eddie, who had been making Gareth slap himself turns excitedly to him,

"Stevie!! What did you think?" he asks, wanting to get Steve's opinion on tonight's show, and probably very specifically, the melodies he and Jeff had been working on for weeks now.

Steve's lucky that Gareth pulls on his hair and distracts him by slamming him on the floor, otherwise Eddie would have totally noticed him blushing.

He'll never get over Eddie wanting his input, especially when it comes to something as important to him as his music, his band.

"OW!" Eddie shouts as Gareth pulls his hair again, reaching to pull on Gareth's nose.

That brings Steve back. He ceremoniously places his hands on his hips, and calls "Children!",

It startles Eddie into slapping Gareth's arm away particularly hard and Steve hears muttered apologies as the two of them sit up criss-cross side by side.

"He started it!" Eddie accuses, playing along with Steve's babysitter bit, "He said we shouldn't ask your opinion on dinner," Gareth gasps indignantly and tackles him again.

Steve just sighs, used to them buzzing with energy after shows.

He hears Jeff and Freak enter the room and turns to them as if they had been there all along, "Dinner from where?" he asks them,

Freak looks up from the boys wrestling and says "Remember that tacos place we saw on our way in? last Thursday?"

Steve's expression clears with understanding, he nods "Oh yeah! Yeah, that place! Okay. Sounds good." Freak nods and goes to their clothes rack.

"Soon as these two finish," Jeff comments.

Gareth has Eddie in a chokehold now and Eddie is trying to lick his arm while also pulling on Gareth's hair.

"I should record you and put it up on the internet," Steve threatens.

Jeff joins in "It'd humiliate our lead man, but it's a risk I'm willing to take" he claps his approval on Steve's back and goes to the clothes rack as Freak goes to change his outfit.

Eddie taps twice on Gareth's arm to be released and Gareth raises both arms above his head triumphantly.

Eddie points a finger at Steve, then Jeff and says "I'm vetoing that!"

Steve frowns. "I didn't know you had vetoing rights" he teases, tilting his head.

"He doesn't" Jeff and Gareth answer in unison,

"You just said I'm the lead man!" Eddie whines to Jeff,

"I was talking about Gareth" Jeff shrugs.

Gareth puffs out his chest and Eddie shoves him, knocking him on his ass again.

Steve can't help but chuckle at them. Eddie turns to look at him with mirth in his eyes then, extends his arms to be helped up.

Steve pulls him to his feet with his heart in his throat.

"So?" Eddie asks,

"What?" Steve asks quietly,

"What'd you think?" Eddie asks again, quiet too like it's their secret, giving his arm a little impatient tap, reminding him he hadn't answered before.

Steve doesn't remember when he started smiling so big "It was good." he tells him, just as quietly, having created a little bubble for the two of them without meaning to, but not wanting to burst it.

"Yeah?" Eddie asks, the corners of his mouth twitching up,

"Mmhm," Steve confirms, starts fiddling with one of Eddie's many chains, "I think the change you made yesterday was smart, the crowd was definitely wilder tonight" he comments,

"Well, that was Jeff, 'member?"

"Hmmm" Steve hums, letting go of the chain and leaning his elbow on Eddie's shoulder to turn to Jeff,

"Well that was a very smart change Jeff!" he calls loudly, enjoying Eddie's flinch. He has to clear his throat because his voice comes out raspy for some reason.

----

Jeff frowns, confused.

"The new arrengement from yesterday," Eddie clarifies, eyes on Steve. Jeff ignores him, but takes the clarification all the same,

"Oh! thanks! Man, did you see the crowd tonight?" Jeff marvels,

Steve says "That's what I was just telling Eddie!" and they launch into specifics that Eddie misses.

He's thinking he usually doesn't like being teased but his cheeks are burning and he can't feel anything other than a pleasant warmth right now, Steve Harrington broke him.

He shakes his head and comes back to reality just in time to see Steve turn to him and say, "You did great tonight, Eds. You were super comfortable using the space on stage tonight, people loved it,"

Eddie doesn't say he was only comfortable because he had a clear view of Steve in the crowd.

"Thank you Stevie" he tells him instead. Steve smiles brightly at him. It makes Eddie want to rub his face on Steve's shoulder.

He pinches Steve's waist instead, gets all up in his space, still buzzing with energy from running around on stage.

"Help me pick something out for tacos?" he requests, hopeful. He loves the idea of Steve thinking about what would look best on him.

"Yeah," Steve agrees, grabbing the hand that pinched him and leading Eddie to the rack.

Gareth rolls his eyes at Eddie as they walk past him and Eddie flips him the bird.

[toasttt11]

sweet nothing

summary: five times jack knew she was the one and one time someone told him she was the one

jack hughes x reader

One

Jack walked around the corner heading to his favorite local cafe and his favorite place to get his morning coffee especially when he has practice as it is on the way to the rink but also close to his apartment that he can walk to get coffee on his days off.

Jack stumbled into someone feeling a hot liquid spill and his hands shot out to catch the women he stumbled into.

“I am so sorry.” Jack quickly apologized seeing he had ran into to her and her coffee is all over her now, She looked up shyly and Jack’s breath caught in his throat, he has seen many beautiful woman but the woman in front him right now was the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.

“It’s okay.” She softly spoke sending the very attractive male a shy smile.

“At least let me make it up to you and buy you a coffee.” Jack quickly asked looking down at her hopefully, he didn’t want to part with her yet especially not even knowing her name yet.

She let out a shy sigh, “Oh you don’t have to.”

“I want to.” Jack sternly told her giving her puppy eyes making her look at him and reluctantly nod, Jack beamed and held out his hand, “I’m Jack.”

She softly grabbed his calloused hand shaking it softy smiling at him as she introduced herself.

Jack blinked at her very soft touch and hoped it wouldn’t be the last time he got to touch her.

“Come on i owe you a coffee.” Jack beamed and rested a light hand on her lower back as they walked back to the cafe.

She smiled softly thinking Jack reminded her of a puppy. Jack opened the door to the coffee shop and let her walk in first.

Jack happily followed her to the front counter where she ordered another coffee and than he ordered his own and paid for their drinks.

He grabbed napkins for her and helped her dried off her sweater making her flash him a sweet smile that just melted his heart.

The two walked over to the other counter waiting for their coffee once they finished drying off her sweater, “Thank you.” She softly spoke to Jack giving him an appreciate smile.

“Of course.” Jack beamed back at her.

They grabbed their coffees and Jack bit his lip not wanting to leave her yet, “Are you busy?” Jack blurted out making her turn to him, “I thought maybe we could talk.” Jack shrugged looking nervous but had a hopeful smile on his face.

“Sure.” She easily agreed making Jack’s smile widen, they walked over to an empty table and sat down.

“So what do you?” She asked curiously sipping on her warm coffee.

Jack blinked and realized she really didn’t know who he was and he smiled, “I uh play hockey.”

“Really that’s cool.” She smiled softly, “Do you like it?” She titled her head curiously.

Jack smiled enjoying the question she asked as it’s never a people ask genuinely, “I love it. My brothers both play too.”

She watched Jack’s smile get softer as he spoke about his brother’s, “Woah that’s awesome. Who do you play for?” She didn’t know a lot about sports as she has never been interested.

“I play for the New Jersey Devils.” Jack smiled telling her enjoying that she doesn’t know him as Jack Hughes alternate captain of the New Jersey Devils but as just Jack.

She furrowed her brows having heard that team and realized he played in the NHL, she doesn’t know much but living in Jersey she has learned a few of the team’s names, “For the NHL? that’s incredible.” She smiled softly at him.

Jack smiled in response, “What about you?” Jack leaned closed in curiosity wanting to learn everything and anything about her.

“Oh i’m a writer.” She softly anwsered his question, it was the reason she moved from sunny Florida to the New Jersey area when she started writing her first book with a publishing company and she has never left since.

“Really!” Jack exclaimed looking awed, “Oh! That’s why your name was familiar!” Jack realized why he thought her name was so familiar when she introduced her self, he has read all of her books and they are the few books he actually loves to reread.

“Your books are incredible.” Jack has started reading her books when the first one came out around his draft and he has loved every single one.

She shyly smiled, “Thank you.” She mumbled her cheeks bright red, no matter how many compliments she gets on her books she always flushes bright red every time.

Jack’s face softened seeing her shy smile and red cheeks and knew there was no way he was going to stop until he got to be her boyfriend, even if they just met a few minutes ago he knew something was special about her and had never felt this way from anyone else.

Jack knew she was the one and was sure they will be together one day.

Two

Jack rubbed his face as he sat down in his car after a long and exhausting game. The past few games have been terrible and all brutal loses and Jack feels as if they are never catching a break.

He was sore more than usual and just exhausted physically and mentally.

All he wanted was to see his little book warm and hopefully his future girlfriend. Jack has been talking to her everyday for the past two months since he met her at the coffee shop and every day he knows more and more that she’s it for him but all he needs to confess his feelings first for that to happen.

He has been at her place a few times and she has been at this place a face times so he hoped she wouldn’t mind him random showing up.

He drove the short drive to her apartment and nodded at the doorman as he walked in and took the elevator to her floor.

He ran a ran through his soaking wet hair and walked down the hallway quickly to her door, he knocked on the door and waited for her.

She looked up from her couch where she reading a book hearing a knock, she wasn’t expecting anyone. She stood up and walked to the door and peeked through seeing a tired Jack. She opened the door, “Jack?” She gently said.

Jack let out a long sigh seeing her, he stepped forward and just hugged her tightly and his head rested on her shoulder.

She only blinked and wrapped her arms around him tightly, she took a step back with him in her arms and shut her door.

She stood in her entrance holding him gently and rubbing his back just holding him with no questions asked.

Jack let out a soft breath as he felt himself relax more and more in her arms, her warm and comforting embrace. He’s never felt as comfortable as he does when he is in her arms.

Jack reluctantly lifted his head off her shoulder keeping his arms around her, “Hi.” Jack whispered tiredly.

“Hello.” She softly whispered back her thumb gently rubbing his cheek bone. “I missed you.” She whispered to him giving him a cute little smile. He had been on a few day road trip and when he got back they haven’t had time to see each other yet.

Jack’s face softened hearing her words, “I missed you too, so much.” Jack whispered back, “So much that i think i actually annoyed Nico about how much i talked about.” Jack admitted to her. He may of actually made Nico annoyed.

She blinked feeling her face soften even more, “You talk about me?” She was surprised, she didn’t know if Jack had say anything about her to anyone, not they she expected it but still.

“I can’t shut up about you.” Jack shrugged softly, he’s not stopped talked about her to anyone since the moment he met her.

She smiled softly feeling her cheeks burning, “Oh.” She mumbled.

Jack smiled softly as he saw how red her cheeks were getting, “I like talking about you.” He admitted to her, his hand going up to cup her cheek making her lean into his touch.

She smiled softly at his words, “Yeah?”

“Of course.” Jack nodded seriously, “I gotta talk about my girl.” Jack added with him a hint of nerves in his words.

She blinked her smile growing, “Your girl?” She asked hopefully, she’s been waiting for Jack to ask her out for a while now.

“If you let me.” Jack asked hopefully, “I would really like to be your boyfriend.”

She nodded with a beaming smile, “I liked that too.” Her words made Jack beam.

He brought his other hand up to her face so he cupped her face from both sides mad leaned down and finally pressed his lips softly to hers.

They both let out happy sighs as they finally kissed.

After a few moments they pulled away and kept their foreheads touching until Jack pulled away to yawn.

“Come on let’s get you to bed.” She grabbed his hand flashing him a soft smile as she pulled his through her apartment. He happily let her pull him anywhere.

Jack luckily had threw on a pair of sweatpants and t-shirt after his post game shower instead of his suit so he could got straight to bed.

She pulled him into her room and pulled back her covers and gently pushed Jack into her bed. She laid down next to him and opened her arm letting Jack cuddle and rest his head on her chest. She brought her hand up to his wet hair and gently ran her fingers through his hair.

“You’re the best.” Jack tiredly mumbled a he felt his eyes closing even quicker from her running her hands through his hair.

She smiled softly at his words and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, “Sleep baby.” She soothing mumbled watching as his eyes fluttered shut and stayed close.

Three

She walked through the hallways of the prudential center looking for the suite Jack told her to go to. She was wearing a pair of black leather pants with Jack’s black Devils jersey and a pair do black heeled boots.

Jack didn’t ask her to wear his jersey but he did leave out on the bed for her if she wanted to wear it. She knew he would be thrilled if she wore her jersey.

She walked into the suite and saw a lot of other woman and a few children and knew Jack put her in the suite with the other players families.

A blonde girl looked up and beamed seeing her walk in, “You must be me Jack’s girl.” She walked over to her, “I’m Nicole. I’m so glad you hear! Jack doesn’t stop talking about.” Nicole giggled as she shook hands with her.

Nicole has heard all about her from Jack and from Jesper telling her that Jack doesn’t shut up.

“It’s nice to meet you too.” She flashed a soft smile at Nicole.

“Come on i’ll introduce you to everyone.” Nicole smiled widely as she looped arms with her and took her around the suite introducing everyone to Jack’s girl.

She was finished getting introduced by the time the game started and she sat down watching Jack skate on to the ice.

This was her first time ever going to hockey game and she’s only started watching hockey when she met Jack and she only watches his games.

Jack looked at up at the family suite and beamed so brightly seeing his girl sitting in there and he could see his jersey on her which just made everything better. He waved getting her attention and he watched her smile once she saw him.

He blew her kiss and he wished he was close enough he could see her cheeks get rosy like they always do.

“She came?” Nico asked amused as he nudged Jack teasingly when he saw Jack starring at the suite with a very happy smile.

Jack proudly nodded. He skated away and grabbed a puck from warm up’s and handed it one of the equipment crew and asked them to hold it for him.

He got ready for the game to start.

She was blushing bright red by the attention on her from Jack blowing her a kiss.

“When did you meet?” Kristen Haula softly asked. Erik had told her all about the girl Jack has been talking about for months now, longer than he has ever talked about anyone ever.

“Almost five months ago.” She softly answered, she was glad she got hot coffee spilled on her that day because it gave her Jack.

“How long have you been together?” Cat Toffoli asked the girl softly, she could tell she was in the shyer side but incredibly sweet.

“Three months.” She told her, smiling as she spoke.

She answered a few more questions before the start of the game.

She softly cheered as Jack got a goal in the first period and she felt her face blush at Jack waving at her after his goal.

She loved watching Jack play in person for the first time, it was so much more than watching on the TV, it was like she got to see another side of Jack tonight and she loved it.

The second period started and within minutes Jack scored another goal and blew a kiss up at her that she softly catched and she knew Jack caught it because if it was even possible his grin got even brighter.

She shook her head incredibly fond as Jack scored his third goal and pointed at her, she blew him a tiny kiss for his amazing performance making him smile and his ears turn pink.

She walked with Nicole down to the locker room once the game was over and the Devils had won and Jack had gotten a hat trick.

She talked a bit more with Nicole as she waited for Jack.

Jack was the first one out of the locker room and immediately went straight to his girl. He grinned as he walked to her and could read his name on her back as he snuck up behind her and wrapped his arms around her from behind and spun her around twice making her giggle.

He set her back down and spun her around his arms so she was facing him, “Hi.” Jack leaned his face closer to hers and whispered softly.

“Hi.” She softly whispered back as she brushed back down of his wet hair off his forehead, “You played incredibly.” She praised him making his perk up, he gets compliments all the time on his hockey but coming from her it meant the world to him.

“Thank you” Jack fondly smiled and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, “I got you something.” Jack mischievously told her as he grabbed something out of his suit pocket ask handed it to her.

She smiled softly as she took the puck from his hand seeing he had wrote the date on the side, “Thank you.” She softly told and kissed his cheek gently making him smile happily. She tucked the puck into her pocket.

“Jacky boy!” Nate beamed as he walked over with Nico, he shook Jack’s shoulders grinning mischievously as he looked at the girl in front of Jack, “Are you going to introduce us?” Nate beamed excitedly he has heard all about her from Jack.

“Baby this is Nico and Bast.” Jack introduced them to her wrapping his arm around her waist.

“Hi.” She softly spoke to them, “I’ve heard a lot about you both.” She loves hearing Jack talk about his teammates and with how much he talks about them she feels like she knows all of them personally.

“He talks about you all the time.” Nico calmly told her but grinning teasingly at Jack.

She blushed and smiled up at Jack slightly teasing, in a way only Jack can get her to tease.

Jack fondly rolled his eyes, “So i like talking about my girl.” Jack doesn’t care he would happily talk about her anytime.

She just smiled at him making Nate and Nico share a look and had a feeling that Jack has found his a good one and someone who they would be seeing from now on.

She waved bye to Jack’s teammates before Jack led her out of the arena.

His eyes glanced to her back and looked at how his name was across her back and all he wanted to was make that her name too.

Jack wasn’t going to stop until he got her to be his wife even if they have only been dating for three months, Jack knew she was the one.

Four

Luke has just gotten into New Jersey a few days ago and had just gotten back from his first game.

He was staying with Jack and of course he knew all about Jack’s girlfriend and he noticed how much Jack is on his phone and how smiley is he when he is on his phone.

Luke was chilling on the couch after the game in a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie when Jack came down the hallway and into the living room, “You hungry?” Jack raised an eyebrow in question.

“I could eat.” Luke answered back.

“Come on there’s someone i want you to meet and you’ll get food.” Jack fondly rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his excitement to where he was going making Luke realize he was most likely going to meet Jack’s girlfriend.

Luke nodded and slid a pair of shoes on and followed Jack out do the apartment and into the car.

Jack drove them only a few minutes away and into an another apartment building.

Luke followed Jack through the lobby and he noticed how the workers all seemed to know Jack and followed him into the elevator.

“I’m meeting your girlfriend.” Luke bluntly stated not asking because he knew.

“You are.” Jack nodded, “She won’t be able to meet mom and dad during playoffs and i want her to meet a piece of my family.” Jack told Luke truthfully.

Jack was disappointed she won’t be able to go to playoff games as she is going on a book tour for her new book but he was proud of her and would never ask her to cancel something in her career for his career.

Luke nodded and decided to not tease his brother for once sensing that Jack just genuinely her to meet his family.

Jack walked up to a door and pulled out a key and unlocked the door and that made Luke raise an eyebrow, Jack had a key.

Luke followed Jack into the apartment and made a sound smelling something amazing.

Jack chuckled hearing the sound and knowing Luke smelt the food, “Trust me it tastes even better.” Jack has had a lot of people cook for him but no one has ever been better than her.

Once she found out Jack has a strict diet she made sure to make foods that follow his diet but they still taste so good and she’s always making him some type of healthy dessert that still tastes insanely good and he can eat as many as he wants.

“Jack?” She called out from the kitchen hearing the door unlocked, she took a deep breath feeling slightly nervous as she was about meet Jack’s brother.

“Hey you.” Jack softly spoke as he walked into the kitchen and wrapped his arm around her from behind in and kissed her cheek.

“Baby this is Luke.” Jack proudly introduced two of his favorite people to one another.

“Hi!” She smiled softly and shook Luke’s hand, “I’ve heard a lot about you from Jack.”

Luke smiled at the and shook her hand gently back, “Hi, i think i might of heard more about you from Jack.” Luke teased his brother.

She smiled and chuckled softly at Luke’s teasing and Jack’s fond eye roll.

“Do you need any help?” Jack asked her sweetly still holding her from behind.

“No i finished everything.” She set her hands over Jack’s hands and squeezed his hands softly, “Luke do you like spaghetti and meatballs?” She asked hopefully.

Luke nodded quickly, spaghetti is one of his favorite meals.

Luke watched as the twi interaction and smiled softly being able to see immediately how in love Jack really is and Luke has never seen Jack this in love. He also saw how calm she makes Jack, the second Jack stepped into the apartment it was like all of his stress and worries just went away.

“Good.” She smiled and walked to the stove and Jack reluctantly let go of her to grab three plates and he handed one to Luke.

They all platted up their plates and headed to her dinning room sitting around the table.

Luke took a bite and made a sound, “Oh my god.” Luke looked over at her in awe, he had never had such amazing spaghetti, “Jack you are not allowed to ever let her go.” Luke declared making her laugh and Jack smile and roll his eyes.

“That is the best spaghetti i have ever had.” Luke told her the second he was done, he had scrapped everything it off his plate within in minutes.

“Thank you.” She flushed at the compliment as it always means a lot when someone likes her cooking, “If you’re still hungry please have seconds.” She encouraged Luke and she knew it was the right thing to say as Luke lite up and got up immediately and headed into the kitchen.

Jack grabbed her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand, “You know he adores you already.” Jack told her, He knew the easiest way to wins Luke heart is food and he knew having them meet like this would be perfect for them both.

She let out a small sigh of relief her shoulders releasing some tension, “I hope so.” She softly admitted.

Jack fondly smiled and he felt so warm seeing her care so much about what her family thinks about her and how much she wants to have the approval of his whole family.

It means the world to Jack knowing she cares that much and that’s another reason he knew he picked the right one.

Five

Jack looked out the plane window as the plane started to descend down as they were almost in Michigan.

His arm was around her shoulders as she rested her head on his shoulder and his hand was playing with her hair as she slept peaceful on him.

Jack frowned slightly knowing he would have to wake her up but he didn’t want to as he loves how peaceful she looks when she sleep.

“My sweet girl.” Jack softly cooed rubbing her shoulder watching as she groaned softly and her eyes starts fluttering open, “There’s those beautiful eyes.” Jack cooed as she opened her eyes to look up at him. He smiled at her little sleepy smile and blush and how she leaned closer to him her nose nudging his neck.

“How was your nap baby?” Jack gently asked his girlfriend.

“Comfy.” She mumbled pressing a kiss to his neck before lifting her head up and resting her chin on his shoulder.

He pressed a kiss to her nose making her nose scrunch and he smiled.

Once the plane landed they got up and Jack grabbed their bags for them and they got off the plane and walked through the airport. Jack never lets her carry her bags anymore even her purse.

They walked out of the airport and Jack saw Quinn waiting by the car and he guided her over to Quinn and the car.

Jack dropped the bags by the car and hugged his brother and Quinn hugged him tightly back.

Quinn looked over once they stopped hugging and saw her and smiled gently having heard the most about her that anyone and he already knew she is perfect for Jack by how happy she makes her brother.

“Hi.” Quinn spoke softly and usually he doesn’t hug new people but with how kick Jack talks about her Quinn feels as if he knows her and hugged her gently.

“Hi.” She gently spoke back with a small sense of relief realizing Quinn had to like her a bit to her hug and she was glad because he’s very important to Jack.

Jack loaded the car while he let the two talk and get to know each other better.

Quinn got into the drivers seat and he couldn’t help but smile realizing that Jack got into the backseat so he could sit with his girlfriend.

The three talked most of the drive back to the lake house and she fit extremely well with Quinn.

Quinn offered to get theirs bags and bring them up to Jack’s room to let Jack go introduce her to everyone.

Jack had a bounce in his step as he held her hand and brought her through his lake house and to the backyard seeing his parents and Luke.

Luke looked up and smiled seeing the two and he got up walking right to his future sister in law ignoring Jack completely and hugged her. Jack just fondly rolled his eyes.

Ellen raised an eyebrow and smiled softly seeing that Luke obviously cares a lot about Jack’s girlfriend.

Ellen has never seen Jack talk about anyone the way he talks about her and in Ellen’s book she already approves because of that and she can see how happier Jack is now and that’s all she wants is for her children to be happy.

Ellen and Jim got up and walked over to them and they hugged Jack first having missed their middle child as Luke talked with her.

“Hi.” She spoke slightly nervous as Ellen and Jim turned their attention to her and she wanted to make a good first impression.

Jack held her hand softly rubbing his thumb over her knuckles, something that Ellen didn’t miss and she smiled wider.

“It is so good to finally meet you!” Ellen beamed and pulled her into soft hug and she was even more surprised here Ellen let go that Jim pulled her into a hug too.

“It’s really nice to meet you both.” She softly but honestly told them as she leaned back into Jack’s side.

“Are you guys hungry?” Ellen asked in a motherly tone she watched as they shared a look and Jack nodded.

“Starving.” Jack answered as they had an early flight and slept most of the flight so they are hungry.

“Why don’t we go to the country club and get some food?” Ellen offered and the two nodded.

“Give us a few minutes and get out of our airport clothes?” Jack asked his mom knowing his girlfriend hated sitting in clothes she wore to the airport.

Ellen nodded and watched as the two walked away and headed inside.

Jack lead her to his room well their room now.

“See it went well.” Jack softly said as he closed the door behind them, his hands rested on her arms giving her a smile. Jack knew how nervous she was to meet his parents and Quinn as she wanted to make a good impression.

Jack has always known his family gets along with others well but they have never all liked someone as quick as they just did with her, She fit into his family immediately and no one ever has fit in like that.

She smiled and nodded relaxing more now and Jack pressed a kiss to her cheek and let her get dressed.

She got ready in the bathroom and when she stepped out in a white sundress Jack groaned, “Baby you are killing me.” Jack didn’t want to leave the room with her looking this beautiful he didn’t want to share.

They have been dating for seven months now and yet Jack still makes her blush just as easily.

“Absolutely beautiful.” Jack mumbled against her lips making her smile and her blush deepen even more.

Jack wrapped an arm around her waist and they walked out of his room and downstairs where they saw his family waiting.

“Ready?” Ellen asked as she looked up and then coming down the stairs. Jack nodded and everyone got up and headed outside into the car.

“Woah what do you think you’re doing?” Jack incredulously scoffed as he saw Luke stealing the spot next to his girlfriend.

“What. I haven’t seen her in a month!” Luke protested wanting to spend time with his friend. Luke really contacted well when he first met her and they became really good friends and text each other daily.

“Here scoot over Luke, i’ll sit in the middle.” She easily told the boys as they didn’t even think of her just sitting in the middle of them.

Ellen watched as who she knew would become her daughter in law one day easily break up an argument between Luke and Jack before it became one, something that is very hard with the two stubborn boys.

Jack slid next to his girl immediately and held her hand and let her lean her head on his shoulder as she chatted with Luke as Jim drove them.

Ellen and Jim shared a look hearing how easily she got Luke to talk a lot.

Jim pulled into the parking lot and they all walked into the country club and got a table outside looking out at the water.

Ellen and Jim took the chance to start asking a few questions about her even if Jack probably already told them all the answers.

Jack had his arm around the back of her chair and watched with a content face watching his girl and future wife get along with each of his family members perfectly.

Jack smiled and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek.

+One

Jack and her have been in Michigan for almost three months and Jack was pretty sure his entire family adores her more than they do him which Jack completely understood and he was glad they all love her so much.

She became the only person that Jim let touch his grill and he taught her how to cook on the grill and how to catch a fish and how to prepare the fish to cook it.

Jack knew his mom is just so happy to have another girl around and just absolutely adores her. He remembered the happy tears his mom shed when he showed her the ring he had bought.

Quinn loves reading and has been trying to get into it more lately and she helped him figure out what exactly he likes to read and they went to many library’s to get books for Quinn to read. Now Quinn and her will sit together and read in silence. Jack has never seen Quinn warm up that fast to anyone but her.

And Luke, Jack already knows Luke loves like a sister since the first time he met her and he made her food. But the two have spent a lot of time in the kitchen and her teaching Luke how to cook better and Luke gets to taste everything which makes him happy.

Jack just adored having her at the lake house, getting to cuddle on the boat, seeing her wakeboard, watching the sunrises and sunsets, sitting around the fire. Jack loved being able to have her with him the entire summer.

Jack got the chance a few weeks before they headed back to New Jersey with Luke to let her meet the rest of his extended family at a wedding and just as Jack expected she was adored within in seconds.

“You have got a good one Jacky.” Ellen told her son watching her laugh with all the little kids and saw how lovesick Jack is.

“I know.” Jack proudly nodded with a happy smile.

Ellen smiled softly and patted his shoulder, “She’s perfect for you and i can’t wait until she is in the family officially.” Ellen encouraged her son giving him a proud smile and she knew sooner than later Jack would be proposing.

Jack had barely gotten any attention from because all his little cousins have stolen his girl the entire day and during the wedding but when they were taken to bed and he finished his conversation with his mother he was finally able to sweep his girl onto the dance floor.

“Hello my sweet girl.” Jack lovingly mumbled as he wrapped his arms around her and they slow danced together.

“Hi.” She smiled back and her fingers fiddled with the nape of his hair.

“Have you ever thought about our wedding?” Jack asked curiously as they were coming up on eleven months being together and he was completely certain he will ask within the next year. Some may say that’s too soon but when you know, you know.

She blinked looking thoughtful and her cheeks flushed pink, “Yeah.” She sheepishly whispered, it doesn’t help that Jack looks so good in a suit and she thinks about him wearing a suit on their wedding day.

Jack perked up, “Yeah?” He asked happily when he realized she thought about their future.

“Yeah.” She whispered earnestly back, “I would love to be your wife one day.” She admitted to her boyfriend.

Jack beamed brighter than ever and pressed his forehead to her forehead, “I can not wait until i make you my wife, future Mrs Hughes.” Jack whispered to her already waiting for the day he finely gets to marry her.

She smiled content and nudged her nose to his gently.

He was very glad he spilled that cup of coffee on her.

[tiredfox64]

Could you write something about a reader falling in love with Syzoth, them developing a cute relationship but the reader finding out that he has some kind of breeding kink?

I've noticed that almost no one writes about Syzoth and that's so unfair 😭

Slither In

Yip notes: Is it really a breeding kink if it's in his nature?

Pairing: Syzoth x Afab reader

Warnings‼️: NSFW, breeding kink, two down there (I can't say it), monster fucking, biting

Your boyfriend is the absolute cutest. He is the sweetest reptilian you ever met. His eyes shine brighter than emeralds in the sun whenever he looks at you. You are his queen whom he would gladly impregnate with his kin.

And I mean gladly.

Ever since you both met, he knew he could trust you. You never feared his true form. You loved both forms equally. You actually found it awesome and were fascinated by it. You would marvel at his long, strong tail. You would hold onto his face as you took in every detail like his sharp teeth or his slit eyes. You looked at him like he was the most beautiful creature you ever laid your eyes upon. For that, you gained his affection.

You were the one person he would visit when he went to Earthrealm. He would wait for you when you’d come to visit him in Outworld. He couldn’t get enough of you. You were like a juicy bug that he had no idea was induced with addictive drugs. He needed to see you the second you visited or the second he stepped into Earthrealm.

Of course, you two would develop a relationship. He was comfortable with you because you didn’t judge him. Even when he ate crickets in front of you, you never grimaced. You actually started buying him crickets for him to eat when he visited. Gosh, his heart melted and he knew you were the one for him. Not even his own people treated him this well.

You two became quite the talking point. Johnny was congratulating Syzoth for finding a wonderful lady like you. Kung Lao was quite jealous of him while Raiden told Kung Lao to just be happy for him. Even Liu Kang was happy to see that something good came into Syzoth’s life.

Trust me when I say you two were THE couple. Girls were jealous that you had a good man following you around, staring at you with love in his eyes. He would ask if you wanted him to do anything for you like carry you around if your feet got tired. No, he knows you can walk on your own. He wants to take care of you, that’s all. It’s all because of love.

When love combines with his Zatteran nature, he starts to act differently.

You started noticing Syzoth act differently after dating for half a year. This whole time he has been polite and sweet to you. The perfect gentleman really. But then he started getting frustrated, not with you but with himself. You couldn’t understand at first until you saw the signs. You heard him stomp his legs whenever you turned your back to him. Or he would bob his head before holding his neck like he was trying to stop himself from doing it again. You couldn’t miss those moments when you and Syzoth would cuddle and you felt his hands rub your belly. It wasn’t in circles but up and down like what one would do to a pregnant belly.

When you’d ask him what he was up to he would stop immediately before apologizing.

“I-I’m sorry, my beloved. I did not mean to disturb you.” He’d remove his hands from your stomach and go back to the cuddling position you two were in before.

“There’s no need to apologize. I was just curious.” You didn’t sound upset at all but he would refrain from telling you his true feelings.

The truth is…Syzoth wants to mate with you. He understands that humans don’t work the same as him regarding breeding. He doesn’t want to make you feel trapped or scare you away with his wants. You’re the first good thing he has gained since leaving Zattera. So he keeps to himself and pushes down his nature. Easier said than done.

More stomping, more head bobbing, more staring at your stomach. He’s damn near clawing the kitchen counter trying not to pounce on you when you turn your back to him. He started looking up at you with pleading eyes whenever he rested his head on your stomach. He was like a dog begging for a treat. He was begging you to have his babies. Yet his mouth wouldn’t move to ask you the question.

Syzoth grew sad quickly. Rubbing one out would not fulfill his needs. He couldn’t do anything with you because he knew he wouldn’t pullout. This irritation grew more and more every day. Since Syzoth wasn’t telling you what was wrong you thought it was a guy issue. You invited Johnny over to see if maybe he could get an answer out of him. And an answer he received the moment he sat down on the couch and asked him what was wrong.

“I cannot take it anymore, Johnny!” Syzoth grabbed Johnny by the collar of his shirt as he hissed out his words.

“Can’t take what? Relax, man. You’re acting desperate or something.” Johnny teased to lighten the mood, but after looking at Syzoth, he realized he was telling the truth.

“I-I want—I need…” Syzoth took a deep breath before continuing, “I want to breed her. I need to. I am unable to help it.” He pulled his hood down to hide his shameful eyes.

Johnny was doing his best to make Syzoth calm down. It didn’t help that he was not saying that it was normal but instead saying it’s just how he is because he is a huge lizard. Never ask this guy to comfort anyone.

Little did they know that you were just around the corner. You heard everything and were slightly shocked. You’re not oblivious to his animalistic nature but you thought he had it under control or even adapted to not having a breeding period. You’re not mad at him and you wanted to comfort him to let him know it was alright to feel that way. But you decided to wait. You didn’t want him to know you were listening. You would wait for Johnny to leave before confronting your boyfriend.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Once Johnny left you told Syzoth to come to your bedroom as you had something to discuss. His heartbeat raced to the point it felt like it was thumping against his chest. He was concerned about what you had to say.

You began telling him about what you heard and you watched his face fill with shame. He was like a guilty puppy. Before you could finish and bring up your next point he was already on his knees, beginning for your forgiveness.

“I’m sorry. Please, don’t leave me. I will not force you to do any-“

“Syzoth!” You yelled which stopped Syzoth from rambling.

“I’m not mad at you. I was just surprised that this was something you wanted. I just wished you talked about it with me so we could have discussed it further.” Your hand went down so you could stroke his hair. He was still shocked but it calmed him a little.

Syzoth really should have said something. He should have known you wouldn’t judge him. If you could handle his real form you could handle his need to breed you. He sighed in relief as he let you pet him. That was until you spoke again.

“Now, how about we fix that little problem of yours?” You teased.

Syzoth looked up at you. At first you were unsure if you offended him. But then his large tail popped out and started pounding the ground. Yeah, he’s ready for this.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Oh dear, he was holding back a lot. He’s an animal in bed, not literally but it will happen soon.

Syzoth was quick to take his clothes off. His two cocks were standing proud before diving into your warm pussy.

You stared into his eyes as he pounds into you, his second cock rubbing against your clit. The tip of his second cock tapped against your stomach every time he thrusted in. It left little droplets of precum on your stomach. The one that was in you felt like it was touching your stomach from the inside. He knew how to use it well.

He was rough but not fast. His mind was more on the goal of cumming deep inside of you. He can’t risk going fast and having it accidentally slip out. With each thrust, it reached places no guy had hit. But Syzoth isn’t your ordinary guy so why even be surprised?

He was watching every reaction you let out. He watched how your eyes rolled back before looking back at him. He watched you struggle to keep yourself quiet by biting your lip. Meanwhile in his mind he was already imagining you becoming more plump as you carry his children. He would be there to protect you and the babies, however many there would be. He’ll take care of everything so you don’t have to lift a finger. All you would have to do is stay healthy and be his beautiful woman. And soon, he’ll make you his wife.

But let’s get through the baby making first before getting to that.

Syzoth moved your legs to lay on his shoulders. It gave him easier access to go deeper and you felt that immediately. He shoved himself deeper until you were seeing stars every time he hit your g-spot. Or those could have been halos from the heavens above. Anything works, the fact was he was making you his. The closeness was nice as well. Feeling his skin against yours as you burn up like a sinner. It was intimate and it was passionate.

Somehow your mind could not process the fact that you were about to cum until it was too late. One second you were giving your usual moans and pants, the next your head went back and you were clenching the sheets as the orgasm hit you. It took your breath away, causing you to only focus on how it came in waves. Your pussy was clenching around his cock while your clit grew sensitive to his other cock rubbing against it. He stopped once he realized you came.

You took a moment to catch your breath. There was a slight smile on your face from the burst of dopamine you just received. You were about to ask Syzoth if he was good until you realized he never came. You became puzzled and were about to ask him what was the matter. He pulled out and flipped you on your stomach.

Alright, now here’s the fun part.

You didn’t know what Syzoth was doing until the bed creaked as if something huge was just dropped on it. No, he can’t be.

You felt him press against your back, feeling rough scales come into contact with your skin. Large hands wrapped around your hips with claws that were slightly digging into them. He nuzzled his large head against yours to keep you calm. That wasn’t necessary because you already felt calm. You were surprised that you weren’t at all freaked out by what was about to happen. But you trusted Syzoth to not hurt you. You knew he would be gentle and make sure you had a good time.

Your hand went up to give his head a light pat. He let out a low growl that rumbled his chest. You felt a much bigger pair of cocks press against your already sensitive pussy. It gathered some of your wetness before slowly slipping in. Your hands gripped your pillows as you felt it stretch you out. What you weren’t ready for was the ridges. The base was ridged. That’s a new texture that no human man can provide you.

Your legs immediately turned to jello from the feeling it provided. Not to mention the other cock was rubbing against your clit again, this time with a more bumpy texture. Don’t worry, Syzoth has a good hold on your hips. So just relax and enjoy the ride.

Nothing in that room was quiet. The bed squeaked with every movement you two made. Syzoth was letting off low rumbles as he felt your warm pussy squeeze around him. And you? Heh, your voice is gonna be hoarse in the morning. The pillow could only do so much to silence your moans. You occasionally had to lift your head up to breathe better and that’s when your moans were heard the most. The prettiest sound Syzoth would ever hear. The sounds of birds could never compare.

You began to pull away from him to relieve yourself of being overstimulated. You could already feel your eyes watering up from the pleasure being too much for you. But Syzoth won’t let you get away. You are gonna stay there and take it all. He pulled you back roughly which made you see those bright lights again. You soon felt his sharp teeth prick the skin on your shoulder. He slowly pressed them down but not enough to break your skin. For once throughout this whole debacle you felt some fear. But that fear turned to pleasure once you realized you liked it. You liked how he was so close to fully biting you just to make you stay. It’s safer to accept what’s about to happen.

Tears began to slip down your cheeks. Drool slowly dribbled past your lips and down your chin. Your pussy was a dripping mess. You’re a dripping mess.

Wet, squishy sounds were heard every time Syzoth thrusted in. You couldn’t hear it over your own moans but you could feel how easily he was slipping in and out. One of his clawed hands reached forward to grip one of your breasts. His claws dug into the round flesh but never pierced it. He could already imagine how big they would get once they fill up with milk. He wouldn’t mind getting a taste of it for himself. He knows you’ll produce enough for the babies and him. Oh gosh, the thoughts are really getting to him.

You felt his thrusts become sluggish and his growls become deeper. You knew he would cum soon. Thank goodness, you couldn’t tell if you would last any longer.

A few more thrusts and he was soon filling your pussy with his cum. It was really filling you up. It’s a large cock what else could you expect. His other cock was shooting some cum out as well which painted your stomach and tits. It also landed on the sheets which is fine he will clean it up later.

Syzoth pulled out and watched some of his cum pour out of you. It fell onto the sheets and dripped down your thighs. You fell to your side and let out a sigh of relief. It’s over, what an experience for you.

Syzoth went behind you to cuddle you, still in his true form. His tail wrapped up and pressed against your front. It was like he was already preparing to cradle that big belly that would soon form. You found it cute and brought his tail closer to you. You begin to pass out, feeling his warm breath blow behind you.

Now, you’re not too sure if birth control will work with Zatteran cum. Guess you will find out soon.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

AND IT DOES NOT!

That little pill was not gonna work with that large amount of cum. Which is fine, it worked out for Syzoth in the end.

He was ecstatic to become a father once more. He will make sure to protect you well and keep your baby safe. He made sure to do everything for you even though he couldn’t do the laundry, cook, go grocery shopping…okay he did the best he could. You wanted to do things yourself anyway. Pregnant women gotta stay strong and active. You appreciated his efforts though.

In the end, it was worth it. Seeing his eyes sparkle whenever he looked at your pregnant belly was something unforgettable. The love he has for you grows stronger every day. He can’t thank you enough for giving him a family.

And it could have happened quicker IF HE JUST FREAKING SAID IT.

Yap notes: So sorry I’ve been MIA. The depression hit like a bitch, the motivation was down, I got overstimulated and cried, and my body needs different things. I have excuses for days and I’m gonna go cry about tortoises. I at least fixed my raccoon tails. Adiós!

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Ok this is very random but how do you think Ghost would deal w an s/o who is still a virgin at a very big girl age 🥴 maybe they’d be seeing each other for a while, and when things heat up and she confesses, how would he deal? Would he be honored and accept being her first or would he reject her altogether bc she is inexperienced?

(Because I’m in my 20s and safe to say on top of everything else in my life except this, I haven’t come across anyone with whom I’d like to be intimate with yet and though I try not to let it get to me, some part of me sometimes feels like a freak or like something is wrong with me)

I hope I did not cross any boundaries or make you uncomfortable by sharing this, if I did I apologize and please feel free to delete this ❤️🕊️

Ghost x FVirgin!Reader Word count: 2,9 k Tags/warnigs: Mild smut, light angst, fluff, comfort, praise & size kink Summary: Reader tells Ghost they’re a virgin while things are about to go down. 

A/N: Oh anon!! No boundaries crossed here at all! Your request (or at least I took it as such and got inspired to write a brief oneshot about it) was very sweet. This of course is my HC but Simon would only and only take pride in being your first. He would get a huge ego boost from this and feel absolutely privileged to hear he's worthy of such trust.  I think he would want to imprint himself in your head as the best man and the best sex partner you will ever have – he would do his all to eradicate even the very thought of wanting to try others after him. Again, an ego thing, but also a desperate wish to please his partner and make them feel safe. This man screams service top to me. I think Simon has a wild side – not mean, just wild, as in he might be into rough sex and certain types of kinky stuff every now and then but only if his partner is willing. He would be very gentle and considerate (passionate as hell though), knowing you're inexperienced, he would make you feel as safe as possible and wait until you were ready and willing to explore things further.  Also, I can't help but be moved by what you told me in this message. I understand where you're coming from with these "is there something wrong with me" thoughts, because gosh, I feel you! And speaking from experience… it's 110 % worth it to wait for the right person to come along! Sex can be awesome, mind-blowing, one of the best things – with the right partner. Not worth it with just whomever, imho. Stay safe and trust yourself! And I hope you like this short drabble I made for Ghost x Virgin!Reader ❤️❤️❤️ much love 😘

Simon Riley was a one of a kind man. 

He put every guy on every dating app to shame, and not just with his size. He was manly, in a word, even if you never knew you wanted such an overly masculine man. At least, not until you met him. 

Simon was not only sturdy and mature – he was armed with calm rage and dark humor. Just one look in his eyes told you he was not the life of the party. Actually, he was Death himself: one of those four horsemen that heralded the Apocalypse.

Perhaps unintelligibly, the same man was also extremely considerate. A true gentleman if there ever was one. He always placed you and your needs first. But underneath the calm, cynical surface you sensed fierce intensity: fire and smoke, something that screamed Danger, high voltage.

And you could not keep away. Quite the opposite, really. The combination of a wildfire and a tornado roaring upon this solid bedrock of a man was simply alluring.

Things had gone a little too far without you meaning them to. You were not a woman of one night stands, actually, you had never had a stand. But Simon changed that, too. Because now you were thinking about sleeping with him. 

After years and years of waiting for someone sensible to come along, you had begun to lose hope, especially when people seemed to fuck left and right while you wanted something real.

A bedrock. 

With that wildfire. Perhaps a tornado thrown in as well.

After weeks and weeks of flirting, the man asked you out, and after weeks and weeks of going out, you came to the conclusion that if someone deserved to be your first, it was Simon Riley. If there was any guy you wished would take you against a wall until you begged for mercy, it was him. At least in your fantasies, which were starting to get out of hand.

In real life, things were not that breezy.

Because what would he say if – no, when – you told him you were a virgin at this age? What if he would be bothered, what if things would get awkward between you two? 

What if he decided you were simply too much trouble than you were worth? 

It seemed like a miracle that the guy was still around, having been left blue-balled date after date. Either he was hellbent on conquering you, or then… Well, you didn't even dare to think about or's and then's and what if's. Especially when your own feelings were getting equally out of hand as those fantasies.

He probably had plenty of experience, and the thought certainly didn't make you feel any better. How would you compare, being not only inexperienced but a whole goddamn virgin? And it would probably hurt on top of everything. This man must be pretty damn big downstairs if 6 '4 feet and large hands were any indication.

Still, all fears flew out the window in record time every time he pulled you into a kiss. Your body molded into his already: the broad shoulders closed in around you, and it only felt thrilling. His warmth, his arms and scent enveloped you like the sweetest prison, and you held onto him as tightly as you could. Not because he wasn't clutching you with the same–if not greater–fervor, but because you wanted to make sure he was real.

And you realized what the allure of Simon Riley was. 

He felt safe.

In fact, he was safe. He represented safety in all its aspects. 

Who would've thought that death and wildfire could feel so good, so reliable?

You wondered if he thought this was some game; that you kept him waiting. The unwritten rule seemed to be that it was ok not to jump into bed on the first date. If anything, it was only a decent move. But what did the rules say about the second, third or fourth date? Not to talk about tenth? 

Things were starting to resemble some prudent high school romance. Well, perhaps not prudent, the way you two practically ground against each other while making out after every date. Without being vocal about it or pressuring you in any way, you could tell he wished for things to go further. Hell, every fiber in this man begged for more. He would soon burn your clothes off simply with that searing gaze alone. 

Watching the door close on that heated stare after at least 15 minutes of wanton, wicked kissing followed by clumsy Good night's and shy, apologetic smiles just wouldn't do anymore. The poor man was left breathless and puzzled in the cold night with nothing but a hard-on and the crumbs you gave him to keep him warm. 

Things were getting ridiculous, criminally so, and you felt pity for those pants trying to keep him in confinement. You felt pity for your own soaked underwear as you climbed to a lonely bed all hot, bothered, and wet.

Which was why this evening would end with you asking him to come inside. 

.  .  .

Lately, his hands have started to roam; they even cup your ass as he moans in your mouth – and hearing that raspy, low sound leave him forces the final decision. It's the final prophecy that tells you he is the one. You should’ve known it was only a matter of time with him.

The man hides his surprise well as you invite him in.

"Thought you'd never ask," he gives you a soft chuckle before stepping over the threshold to not only your apartment but also your life and privacy. 

You barely get out of your shoes before his shadow engulfs you and strong hands lift you in his lap like you weigh nothing at all. You instinctively reach for support by clasping your hands behind his neck. 

"You really know how to torture a man, don't you?" The brown in his eyes is nearly swallowed by warm darkness as he carries you to the bedroom. 

"I'm sorry," you whisper, and he gives a short laugh of gravel.

"Don't be. This has been fun." 

He sets you down next to the bed, and your heart is thumping so bad you fear he can hear it banging against your chest. 

"But it's about time I torture you, right?"

Oh God…

Things happen so fast that it’s hard to tell who undresses who, but somehow, you find yourself standing in your bedroom with nothing but knickers and a bra on while he's taking off his pants. The man has definitely waited for this to happen for god knows how long, and it only makes your stomach lurch.

He thinks you know what you're doing, your brain offers when it should know when it’s time to shut the hell up. You can see the generous bulge this man is packing, and while perhaps compelling to other women, to you, it mainly looks intimidating. Threatening, almost.

He doesn't take his boxers off, seeing you're just standing there like some statue, still in your underwear and almost shaking from thoughts running rampant. 

His form swallows you as he steps closer; wide hands slide up your arms, then draw you against him – against that demanding pulse that gets trapped between you two. Even through the black cloth, you can tell he's thick and big, just like you feared.

The man is blazing, and seems to have grown another foot in height as he towers over you with all that muscle. His shoulders are almost the size of your head, and you already know the hand that runs down your spine is experienced in crushing windpipes. It makes you breathe in shivers, and of course he notices something is wrong.

"Everything good?" He's eager and breathless, the erection pressing against you like a threat. He’s a man who has fashioned a weapon out of himself, so it shouldn't be a surprise that everything in him speaks violence.

"Yes," you try to assure him – a lousy lie only punctuated by the audible gulp that leaves your throat as you try to swallow your nerves back down.

"You afraid…?" 

"Just a little nervous," you tell him, a half confession.

"Mm. That makes two of us." 

He draws down into a kiss, the hands of a soldier and a killer nearly drawing you up from the ground as he pulls you close. You don't really buy his claim of being nervous too: you can feel how he throbs between you, heavy and impatient. 

Hesitantly, you reach to hug him as well, and you feel so small, so insignificant when wrapped around this… giant. The knowledge that you're about to be trapped under all this crushing weight leaves you both faint and needy. 

He’s a good kisser, but as he moves to devour your neck, you start to freeze from the middle.

"Alright… Come here."

He half carries, half lays you down on the bed, then crawls between your legs and changes his tactic a little. Gentle kisses are ghosted down your throat, and soon, he's at your breasts, soft as a whisper. But as he draws the fabric of your bra aside, your nipple is caught inside a hot, wet mouth, and the wildfire surges forth. There’s no way out from under him anytime soon, and you realize the colossal body is already spreading your thighs wide. 

The way he already looks so damn good there between your legs: big, the epitome of raw, masculine power… It's almost sinful that a man like him is here with a virgin. It's a whole new hell how he's kissing you gently as fuck while blazing like a bonfire about to engulf and devour you. You want to wrap your legs around his middle, attach yourself to him in any way you can, but your thighs are weak pudding. 

You feel both lost and found with him. In him.

He sucks and kisses your breasts like they're the only thing he's here for – and it feels good, heavenly, to be honest. But then he starts to travel down.

Shit… You need to tell him – and soon, or else there will be no time to say anything before the last of the shielding fabric is gone.

"Simon…?"

"Mm-hm?" 

He doesn't even stop with the kissing, merely hums on your skin as his mouth reaches your stomach.

"You're my first," you finally force the truth into the night; a soft and desperate fact. It's only the faintest breath, but he halts abruptly like he has been stabbed between the ribs.

Great… 

Here comes the awkward.

He rises. Softly, slowly, like a shadow, just a second away from getting to what's between your legs.

"Is that so?"

His voice is hoarse and dark from arousal. The whole man is intoxicating, and your heart is hammering in your chest, both from hunger and dread.

"Yes…?" 

A broad hand comes to rest on the dip of your waist; gently, like you're some frightened animal about to dart off from under his touch. 

"Love… Are you sure you want to do this?"

Are you? You almost ask, then bite your lip.

He just called you love, something he has never done before. You can see your breasts rising with the breaths you try to calm down with sheer willpower. 

He lets out a small sigh, then crawls beside you and takes you in his arms. The bed sags and wails under his weight before your body is pulled into a delicious bear hug.

"Sweetheart."

His voice is so smooth, so different from the intense, rough smoke that has followed you up until this point that you feel vehement tears burn your eyes. First love, and now, sweetheart…

"There's no need to rush things," he says while keeping you close. Ever the gentleman, but you fear that you've ruined everything.

"We haven't exactly been rushing," you mutter somewhere in the plates of his chest. You both feel and hear how another sigh travels up his throat and is breathed into the crown of your head.

"Now… listen to me, ok? I've wanted you ever since we met. Can't deny it. But the last thing I want is to force you to do something you don’t wanna do."

You squeeze your eyes shut from what he says. Ever since you met… You can remember the lingering gazes, the way his eyes lit up with something hopeful and pure, how it drove away the exhaustion that seemed to have made a home in this big, brooding man. You remember how he stole a few stares up and down your body, too; remember the hunger he never even tried to conceal – not until now.

He is the most enthralling being you have ever seen, a mystery and a force of nature, an indomitable man, and to say that you haven't thought about him that way ever since too would be a lie.

"But I want it," you look up at him slowly, feeling much safer now that he's holding you like this.

I want you.

You realize you're pouting when the warm look in his eyes gains a playful glint as he laughs softly.

"You want it?"

"Yes."

That little twinkle turns into a downright gleam as he looks at you like you're the most adorable thing he has ever seen.

“You want it with me?”

“Yes.”

"How much do you want it?" The charred voice is so soft now: it washes over you in generous waves. His hands keep you in safe custody – and you're the most willing prisoner there ever has been.

"Pretty badly?" You breathe into the air between you and see the corner of his mouth tug.

"Well, in that case…" His hand sweeps down your back and comes to reside on the swell of your hip. "I'm glad I'm here to help."

Pale eyelashes drop to your lips just before he kisses you again. You arch in his arms, like a flower leaning towards sunlight; your mouth, your whole being unfurls under his leadership. He rolls partly on top of you, then moves to kiss you all over as you lie on your back: he kisses your chin and neck, your collarbones and the hollow little crevice between them. The hand on your hip brushes down your thigh, then back up, up, until his fingers meet the folds already soaked through the fabric of your underwear. 

His touch is soft, but gains more weight as he sweeps slowly up, then brushes a thumb over the exact location of your clit.

"Oh–" 

He knows what he's found, even without the evidence of your voiceless shake of a breath. He brushes another stroke over it, and it doesn't matter that you still have your undies on – you can feel his weight, the gentle pressure he applies as he draws a circle to usher another soft moan out of you.

"You like that?"

"Mhm," is the only thing you are able to answer.

"That's it…" he cheers you on with calm assurance. "Gonna make you feel good. And that's a promise."

You catch a hint of ego in that promise, but there's something else, too. A fervent devotion, a bottomless need to please you no matter what. The right man, definitely: not someone who is only after their own satisfaction. You don't exactly need the answer anymore, but you ask the final, burning question nonetheless.

"Simon?"

"Speak your mind, love."

"Are you disappointed…?"

He stops again, a breath away from you. 

"Disappointed?" He sounds quite shocked, almost appalled. "...Disa–"

He huffs, then reaches to cup your face. You raise your eyes to his and see that he's…ardent, and very, very serious.

"Love, I'm honored."

You can only blink at the solemn vow, and he slowly shakes his head.

"Silly little thing…" 

It's something he muses almost to himself before he drags his fingers over your sternum and down your stomach, reverently, like you're a piece of precious porcelain. But the heat in his eyes is back, and your fingers curl to grasp a fistful of sheet as his hand disappears underneath the cloth, when he finally touches you with nothing in between.

You suppose it's his middle finger that sweeps over your clit this time, then slips between your folds without effort. It coaxes your thighs open to give him better access, and access he has: he curls the finger until it almost dips inside. Your lips part with a quiet sigh as your chin climbs toward the ceiling.

"Look at that… All wet and sweet for me already."

The way you expose your neck is like an invitation: he buries his face in your neck, tries to drown in the scent and feel of you while gliding across the wetness down below. He spreads moisture on the tight bud, and you jerk a little from how sensitive it is – he huffs a smile in your ear. It makes you release the sheet and reach out to grasp him by the neck, to make him stay precisely where he is, close like this, so close��

"Do ya even know how bloody sweet you are?"

The last of your wits make a vanishing act as he breathes more praise on your skin. You're languid in his arms, feeling both weightless and heavy, like you're sinking into the mattress, and then his hand moves lower; one thick finger is plunged slowly inside. 

Oh God oh God–

You feel him, all of him, filling and spreading you. And it's not enough… not nearly enough.

"We'll take it nice and slow, alright?" He whispers in your ear, and you tighten around him like on command. "Got all night to make a mess of you. That sound good?"

You can't help it: your lips draw into a smile when thinking about all the things he will do to you, all the sweet things you've always waited to happen. 

"Yes."

[l13]

I just saw someone ask if you write for MHA. And girlie. Holy fuck. All Might, like the man is built as fuck but also kind of a loser. If you get my drift? Like yeah he’s this awesome hero, but the man is old, alone and kinda a dork.

I wanna be the young thing that saunters into his life and rides him until he’s begging me to stop. Wanna take lunch to him at work, all cute and lovey and wifey, then lean in to let him know I’m not wearing panties but I do have a vibrator. That man would explode, in more ways than one, and be a constant blushing awkward mess.

Thoughts?

this is exactly how i picture all might as well! we can share him and then he could have 2 controversial young gfs<33

so sorry that this doesn't contain any actual smut tho:(

CW: NSFW 18+, MDNI!!!, f!reader, age gap, lazy ass writing, not proofread

He's a dilf but he's the touch-starved kind, the 'i haven't fucked someone in a long time' type, the one that you'll make a pussy enthusiast in just a couple of weeks, type<3

'cause at first he'd be reluctant y'know. Not only were you younger, but you were soooo out of his league (or so he thought). The prettiest thing he'd ever seen, really. And when you bluntly told him that you're interested in getting to know him better, he'd frowned a bit. He wanted to outright laugh at your words, but he didn't want to seem rude.

Poor man thought you were making fun of him so he tried to let you down gently, saying smth like “If it weren't for the age gap..” “You'll find someone younger, someone better, I'm sure.” and you'd faltered, apologizing for bothering him and scurrying off, embarrassed that you'd misjudged the situation

but then you kept running into him at your favorite coffee shop, politely engaging in small talk every time, and one day you didn't fail to notice how his gaze on you, lingered. How his eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips, down to your cleavage, and back up again. It was so quick that you thought your mind was playing tricks on you but then he cleared his throat hurriedly, his adam's apple bobbing with the movement, and you knew.

“Say.. y'wanna sit with me for a bit?" second time's the charm right?

You watched as his eyes widened slightly, “Well, I was- I'm actually busy right now-”

“Just twenty minutes, I promise,”

And Yagi quickly realized that he couldn't say no to you. So he gave a small nod, his eyes crinkling as he smiled softly, “Twenty minutes,”

He never in his life thought he was going to be put in this situation, and looking back at it, he'd never be able to prevent it anyway. Because just after 10 minutes of you sitting and laughing at his stupid jokes, he'd felt a nudge just under his knee, and he'd pulled his leg back instinctively, not being able to drag his gaze from the way your eyebrows furrowed prettily, “What's wrong?”

He shook his head, chuckling at his pathetic behavior “It's-” but then as he glanced under the table he saw your bare foot, save for the white stockings you wore, inching closer to his shin, and he snapped his eyes to yours, a shiver running down his back when he saw the look in your eyes- the mock concern masking the devilish glint quite well. “..nothing. Nothing's wrong I-” he trailed off as he felt your foot trailing up higher and Jesus Christ- when did you even take off your shoes?

Yagi let out another strained chuckle, looking around the small cafe, when he felt your foot on his plush thigh, making him jump. His hand shot down to grasp your foot reflexively, his jaw clenching as he locked eyes with you again. “What do you think you're doing?” he'd leaned a bit over the table to whisper to you, and you did the same, your head lazily resting on the palm of your hand as you pouted, “Let go of me, Yagi.”

He did as he was told immediately, and a part of him felt guilty, even when he'd done nothing wrong. “I'm sorry- but I just-”

Of course you shouldn't have let her go, you idiot. Did you think she was just gonna stop? He chides himself in his head because he can't do anything else. Because the foot that's pressing against his hard cock is clouding his judgement and he can't think of something to do.

A grunt escapes him when you rub him slightly over his dress pants, his hand coming up to cover his mouth, eyes still locked on yours. “You planned this didn't you?” you smile at that, your pretty lips closing around the straw of your drink as you take a sip, your foot pressing against his bulge harder.

Your gaze was trained on his hand, the one that was clutching the table with all its might (haha, get it), and you followed along the veins of his hand, up his forearms, to the point where they got lost under his shirt, the sleeves rolled up at his elbows. You licked your lips as you ran your eyes over his arms next, eyes hooded at the way the material of his shirt hugged his taut muscles. Finally, you looked up at him, enjoying the droplet of sweat falling down his temple, “I don't know what you mean,”

And Yagi knew he was fucked.

 ‹𝟹

Months later, you saunter over to Yagi’s office, pretty summer dress swirling as you walk, Yagi's lunch packed with a cute little bow on top, in hand. You knock on his door, not waiting for him to answer before you’re pulling the door open, walking in and pushing it closed behind you. Yagi’s eyes snap to your figure, one eyebrow raised, his gaze immediately softening once he realizes who you are, “Princess? What are you doing here?” 

You grin at him giddily, walking closer to his desk as he takes off his glasses running a hand down his face before he’s looking up at you with tired eyes- the corner of his lips quirking up despite his exhaustion.

“Brought you lunch-” his heart swells in his chest, pushing his chair back as he stands and walks around the table to stand in front of you, bending down to give your lips the softest kiss, his hand caressing your cheek. “You didn’t have to, pretty.”

“I wanted to. Besides, I missed you so much Toshi,” he coos down at your words and plants another kiss on your forehead, “I know sweetie, ‘m gonna be home in a few hours, yeah? Then I’ll be all yours,”

“But I need you, now.” you pout, hands coming up to rest on his pecs, fingers sliding under the collar of his shirt to play with his blond chest hairs, and you bite back a smile at the tiniest shiver he gives. “Sweetheart..” before he can say anything else you’re clutching his hand and pulling him with you, pushing him back to sit on his office chair again, and he’s looking up at you, bewildered.

Then you’re trailing a hand from your thigh up to your belly, only you’re slowly lifting your dress as you go. His jaw goes slack once his eyes are met with your bare, glistening pussy, his neck turning red. You whimper, circling your hips around nothing, dropping your other hand to rub two fingers aaall over your folds, gathering up your slick on your fingers. “See? Told you I need you,”

And Yagi can't complain when you push your wet fingers in his mouth, his moan getting muffled as he stares at you with half lidded eyes, his already hard cock twitching at the sight of you, all pretty and ready for him<3

2023 © l13 | Do not steal, copy, edit, translate or re-post any of my works.

[mysteria157]

Pairing: Demon! Nanami Kento x Angel Black!Fem Reader

Rating/CW: grey morality, religious undertones, corruption kink, worship, power dynamics (subtle fem submission), monsterfucking, smut, tongue fingering, pronged tongue, vaginal sex, oral (f! receiving), mild blood/biting. MDNI!

Summary: The thick muscle of your wings press against cold ancient stone as he circles you with wicked, stone-faced intent. Glimmering obsidian fingers trace along your feathers until they quiver--fluttering with touch-starved bliss no angel should ever feel. It's forbidden--this sensation in your belly, this humiliating slick between your legs that be can smell, this overwhelming desire that you've spent eons trying to quell.

But now, trapped before a demon so captivating that you can't help but feel equally terrified and dreadfully aroused, reality burns your skin like the holy water that bubbles whenever it's within your reach.

You're not here to serve a divine purpose--you're an offering. And only Heaven knows if you'll fall to your knees before him, begging for corruption.

Author Notes: Here it is! My submission for @tsukimefuku 's Spookinky event! I had so much fun writing this. Thank you, Fuku, for hosting such an awesome event, and I truly apologize for the filth (I do not apologize). Thank you all for your support, and thank you, @aliasnnmknt, for letting me use your art for my banner and helping me create it. Your art really inspired most of this fic!

Header: art by @aliasnnmknt | Divider: @arcielee @enchanthings | network tag: @pixelcafe-network

JJK Masterlist | Twitter | Ao3

©mysteria157, all rights reserved. DO NOT copy, plagiarize, reupload, modify, or translate (without permission) my work to other accounts and platforms.

You’ve never set foot in a demon’s realm.

You’ve heard the stories—flames that burn flesh from bone, screams that echo for eternity, demons that feast on corrupted souls. For the many eons that you have been in existence, the pristine light you thrive in tells enough horrid stories to keep you away.

You do what you can to show you are pure in your thoughts and heart and that you will walk the line given to make the one above you proud in His selection of you. You’ve done well. It’s why you’ve been given this task—a pilgrimage to a sacred altar within this dark realm, to find the relic it holds and be promised enlightenment and a deeper connection to your spiritual life. For once, you feel special. You are special.

The relic you search for holds ancient divine text that the Heaves would like to make sure does not fall into the wrong hands. Your ability to decipher that text and other old tongues made you the perfect choice—though you try not to question why that ability exists at all. This mission feels important and they insisted you were the perfect choice. Your gifts would serve the greater good. Serve Him.

Maybe that’s why they sent you alone. A single angel, moving quietly through dark territory, would draw less attention than an entire group.

Finally, after so many years of wary glances and hushed concerns. Your many ‘gifts’ that have set you apart—the way ancient texts rearrange themselves under your touch, how you see patterns in chaos that other angels cringe from, your thirst for knowledge that shouldn’t be explored. Finally, it’s all paid off.

Or…at least that’s what they told you. Even as something in your grace whispers warnings you choose to ignore.

Angels bask in absolutes, in the pure warmth of divine light and the straightforward clarity of purpose. There is certainty in right and wrong, never a grey in between. Your wings should bask in holy breeze, not in this thick air that tastes of dreadful sin.

You expected the realm to smell of death and destruction, to look as if every natural disaster had run through the land so the shadows could roam freely to commit sin. It’s what you’ve been taught at least. This Realm specifically is forbidden and faith has been used as a boundary to keep other angels in line.

The outskirts of this realm is covered in a haze, a thick russet fog that smells of ozone and decaying flowers. It settles on your skin like an uncomfortable garment, scratching the surface and burning your dermis. Your wings curdle in pain, burning to ash and regrowing through your bleeding muscles. Gnarled, skeletal trees reach up like claws, the birds that sit on their branches malnourished and dying. Distantly, you hear the constant drip of water from a faucet, yet there is no water in sight. Whispers of sin and moans of agony carry on the wind.

Your white dress flows like liquid moonlight, now stained with ash and ember burns. The neckline dips lower than most angels would prefer.

“To be comfortable in the vessel He gave you is to honor His creation.”

Is what they had said, their justification now seems like a cruel irony as the fog caresses your exposed cleavage with burning fingers. The bottom of your dress trails on the ground as you walk, the dirt burning with red soil that seeps through the toes of your bare feet. It feels as if you’re walking on hot coals, the heat burning the fabric of your hem in tendrils of smoke.

You knew to expect this pain, but it’s different. There is a calculated precision to it, intentional in how it burns you as if testing if your form is solid, if your soul is worthy of corruption. The bell sleeves of your gown flutter in a nonexistent wind, ash and soot collecting in the folds of fabric that they once praised as divine elegance.

Your eyes burn, tears streaking melanin-soaked skin that cannot absorb the shrouded sun up above. As you navigate blindly through the oppressive haze, the shadows around you morph with the darkness and skitter past you on multiple hands and contorted feet.

An infinitesimal part of your grace shivers in fear. It’s small yes, pushed away and ignored like you have been taught, but it’s there in the quickening of your pulse and the break of sweat on your neck, it’s there as you walk further through the vicious landscape of horror and pain, as you try to ignore the gurgling of what you do not know from all around you.

Your wings curl around your body, a small gesture of protection that you fall into when the fog gets thicker. It slides languidly up your nostrils and down your throat, catching along the corners. You cough, sputtering wildly through ash and decay, your eyes bubbling with more burning tears. That fear flickers again in your chest and wiggles like a worm in search of moist dirt in your rib cage.

You can do this. You have been chosen. Your lips curl and part as you recite your prayer in silence, asking for strength even as your fear climbs higher to the surface of divine worship.

Then—through burning tears, you see it. A path of pure obsidian that cuts through the horror, its surface covered in a thin layer of water that reflects starlight not in the skies above. Your feet pick up in pace, moving before conscious thought, drawn to its dark beauty and vast difference of the world around. The moment your toes dip into the water-slicked stone, the moisture sliding off your skin without wetting it, everything changes.

The burning on your skin and feathers stops. The pungent fog parts like a curtain and dissipates into the air. You pull in a deep breath, savoring the thickness that is no longer there, your throat coated in clean oxygen. Your dress, moments ago stained with ash and fiery burns, returns to its pristine white. Once the tears in your eyes clear, you take in the changed landscape.

Perhaps the realm only transforms if one gets this far, because now there is no destruction but a defiance of what you see. The sky is tinged a permanent grey, overcast even though there’s a warmth to the low hang of the clouds. There are no lakes of fire, and the ground beneath your feet is no longer hot with clay-colored dirt that seeps between your toes. The obsidian path winds before you through tall garden walls of pearly white flowers, the leaves pitch black instead of earthly green.

Above the dark canopy of the garden walls, a monolith looms tall, piercing the grey sky as if demanding to be let into the heavens. It’s built to resemble a vast tree, its surface rippling with starlight, the bright core pulsing like a heartbeat, beckoning you deeper into this realm of misconstrued beauty. The garden path must lead to it. Even the pearly white flowers weaved into the walls all point forward, ushering you on.

Your wings furl closer to your spine as you shuffle to one of the garden walls, hesitantly reaching for the flowers twined in the vines and leaves. It’s a beautiful white, with small petals that curl toward a sage core. They’re littered along the walls, a beautiful landscape against darkness but the closer you get, the more you realize—

Hemlock

A poisonous flower, the symbol of death, betrayal, and sacrifice. It sits in it’s refined beautify, enhancing the black leaves around you, but they are just as dangerous.

You snatch your hands away as if stung, clutching the fabric of your dress like a lifeline. You try not to think about how the hemlock watches you with pale eyes. You try not to think about what they represent. You try not to question why these flowers would point and line a path to the divine relic you seek.

With every step you take, the pulsing from the monolith in the distance vibrates through the ground, the water rippling currents with each beat. The obsidian path narrows, forcing your wings closer to your body, your arms so close to the deadly blooms. The garden walls rise higher, leaves trembling in that same empty breeze.

While the air no longer feels thick, it is heavy with a taste both nonexistent and flavorful. Flavored with the knowledge you seek when others do not look and secrets that make your eyes linger even as your grace warns you against it. The questioning urges of your nature that Heaven always tries to quell stir awake like a beast being poked after centuries of rest.

You should ignore it. You should ask for forgiveness and count the blessings you have been given in this long existence. But your heart leaps at the chance you have also been given, right now.

The monolith’s base reveals itself slowly, the garden walls parting gradually with dark promise. Your breath catches at the sight—this is no crude demon architecture. The structure rises before you like an otherworldly giant, jet black vines weaving within its bright innards.

You’re struck by the beauty of it all, a resplendent sight that you never imagined would bless your eyes. And as you draw closer, the glass obsidian floors open up before you. From the open floor, a column of marble rises, its surface bleached bone and covered in aging vines and greenery.

On that altar, rests the relic you seek. It is no crystal that contains energy to create vasts universes. It is no seed that once planted will wreak destruction with its pollination. It is no emulate capable of manipulating time.

It is a book.

A single book that is thick with words of forbidden knowledge, its cover worn and weathered from eons of hiding in the shadows, its pages yellowing along the edges.

Such a simple relic, but you feel it’s dark power from your spot at the altar.

You’ve been tasked to tuck it away and sneak back to Heaven, to deliver it to your superiors and be given your eternal reward. While simple in theory, your hands hover over it, hesitating with shaky fingers.

Do not open it.

Do not look at it for longer than necessary.

Do not look inside.

These are your rules—your absolutes. And yet…

Your fingers twitch, reaching and pulling back at the elusive call of the tome, your feathers trembling with a desire you shouldn’t feel. Your eyes burn with tears of veneration as the symbols on the worn leather illuminate and rearrange before your eyes like dancing embers, the translated text reading in your mind like an endless scroll.

Do not look at it for longer than necessary.

You snatch it up, pressing it to your chest as a means to stop your racing heart. Your soul palpitates with want, a baseless need to curl your fingers under the lips of the book and tilt it open.

It’s temptation, that festering desire that always seems to coil in your belly when the explanations you are given never feel right, when the world around you seems too pristine and you want to know more, when you linger in the mortal realm, watching the humans with a curious eye that is more than what is required of you.

It’s quick and on a whim, you pulling the book from your chest to look down at it, as if by looking it will answer the questions you seek. You trail your fingers along it’s ancient skin, soft and unmarred fingertips feeling along ridges and scars along the cover. It looks as if the relic has gone through it’s own personal Hell, no doubt jerked around from realm to realm over the centuries, pried open and its secrets stolen. There’s a faint beat of sadness that you feel in your chest at the thought of what it must have gone through.

But your fingers still finger beneath the lid, the worn pages jagged on your tips as you worry it up with a slow movement.

Do not open it.

You squeeze the tome, pressing the pages inside more into each other in a silent attempt to seal it and your temptation away forever. Your toes curl into the water beneath you, cold on your skin but still passing over you dry and without moisture.

But once again you catch yourself loosening your grip, your fingers adventurous, your mind begging for more and it’s right here.

In times like these, you find yourself turning to the one manifestation that has never answered you, but exists in your very being.

“Father,” you whisper, voice shaking. “Give me the strength against temptation.” Your wings draw tight, your spine aching from the sudden action, before they expand in a glorious span, feathers opening like extended fingers before they curl around you to shield you from your own curiosity. “Guide me from this darkness, keep my thoughts pure…”

But even as you pray, your body rebels—your fingers part a page and slide along the rough texture of papyrus. There’s a power to the book now, a deep pulse that seems to be in rhythm with the monolith, beckoning you further. The ancient text burns brighter, the translated words whispering in your ears to give in just this once—look inside, soak in your knowledge, seek what others deny.

Your lips quiver, eyes burning with unshed tears at the way your body betrays you. You’re no better than a fallen angel, than a demon or a human who walks the path of darkness—easily tempted and consumed.

You’re not damned, you’re not, you’re not—

“What do we have here?”

The voice slides through your tumultuous thoughts like silk, rich with bored amusement and something darker. Your prayers die in your throat, catching along the edges of your esophagus, your body icing over with a chill of what you try to rebuke as fear.

You’re not alone and you knew the dangers of wandering this realm so freely. You call upon your grace, manifesting a celestial dagger of light and purity, before you whirl around to face the demon who pursues you.

But you’re met with nothing—just the empty garden path you came from.

When you turn back to the altar, your scream catches in your throat.

He stands with casual power and predatory grace. His skin is a pitch lighter than the obsidian paths, but still scattered with constellations. His hair falls in golden-blonde waves, the ends touched with flame that frames sharp features and elegant black horns that curl from the top of his head. His eyes are a burning yellow, studying you with a calculating hunger that makes you shiver.

He stands tall, an inhuman height that makes you feel incredibly small, his wings the color of dark flames spread lazily behind him, their edges flickering with crimson light.

The armor that adorns his upper body is otherworldly and crafted not by divine or mortal hands—navy as dark as night, trimmed with gold that wraps around his shoulders and sides, his chest bare. His hip rests against the altar as if he owns it, expectant like he’s been waiting for you.

He’s beautiful, a manifestation of dark and light, a being that walks his own line not predetermined. As you study him, something tugs at your memory—flashes of encounters that have grown fuzzy over time. In the mortal realm, when you linger in the shadows to observe the humans, a tall figure in navy and tan, warm eyes hidden behind glasses with no arms, hair not tipped with flame but parted clean and tucked behind his ears.

He lingers in the darkness, in damp alleys and abandoned buildings where misery and pain give birth to grotesque figures that terrorize the mortals. You’ve seen him—or you think you have—convinced it was a coincidence and ignored the way your wings would shiver at his distant presence, tilting toward him as if searching for someone lost.

And in your dreams too—dreams of large hands filled with experiences of the world, of whispers in your ear of eternal knowledge. You’d wake with your grace trembling, convinced it was just your mind playing tricks even as the apex of your thighs trembled with the sheen of your sweat and forbidden essence.

Perhaps that’s why your superiors ask for you after these dreams. Perhaps that’s why they press their fingers to your temples and bury the memories deep. So you do not have to worry. So that you can resist temptation. Right?

Yes. All of it is a temptation to test your faith.

But now he stands before you, solid and real, and those ‘coincidences’ suddenly feel intentional. Had he been watching? Waiting for this very moment?

You adjust your grip on your dagger, forcing away those thoughts that never seem to go away. You stagger backwards, your celestial dagger shaking in your hands, your prayer wielded before you like a shield.

“Our Father who art in Heaven,” you whisper, desperate words that feel as if they fall on closed ears, your fear radiating from your bare toes, through the strong muscles of your white wings, and up to the top of your skull. “Hallowed be thy—”

The demon moves towards you now, each step gobbling the distance between your retreating form until your back hits the garden wall, a gasp dying in your throat.

“That name,” he murmurs, sultry low as he cages you with muscular arms, “holds no power here.” His eyes drag down your form, cataloging you bit by bit, lingering on the sight of a shaking chest that is pressed to the tome you clutch.

He leans in close, too close, until you feel the burning heat from his skin. You press your back harder against the garden wall, dark leaves and hemlock brushing along your cheeks and neck as he inhales deeply along the column of your throat.

He smells like the archives you lose yourself in, like the green tea you love to drink in the mortal realm, like a dark concoction of burning honey that would make the noses of other angels crinkle but your nostrils open to inhale more. Your divine senses blur.

This is temptation, you tell yourself as your wings putter against the wall behind you. You’ve practiced for this, you know what you should do. But your body betrays you, your head tilting slightly before you can think about it, offering more of your neck for his inspection.

Horror at your sin, ice cold as it washes over you, makes you act. You press your celestial dagger upward, against his bare chest where one particular constellation burns brighter than the rest.

But the blade dissolves like sugar in the rain the moment it touches him, holy light scattering for a home as it shimmers across his skin to form new constellations.

“How interesting…” The deep voice inquires, hot as it puffs on your neck. “An angel, stealing what does not belong to them. Surely there’s a rule about that, is there not?”

You clutch the tome tighter to your chest, your mouth opening to snap that this is your mission, your divine purpose. But the book vanishes from your grip in black tendrils of smoke, your hand smacking into your breasts from the gap created.

“Give it back!” Panic rises in your throat as you try to meld with the leaves behind you, your fingers wrapping around vines and leaves like a vice.

A sigh, long and drawn out as if mentally exhausted, as if this isn’t the first this has happened, leaves his giant form and travels over your body.

“No, I don’t think I will,” he drawls, pushing off the wall and walking away as if your presence means nothing. He turns to face you at the altar, eyes half-lidded as he rests his forearms on the marble surface and opens the tome that is now manifested in his hands. He’s giving off every impression that the relic you seek will not be going home with you, and he is more than prepared to read it all until you go away.

“W-well, you…” you trail off, your eyes flickering to the open book in his hands. You can’t see the words inside, but you can practically smell the papyrus, a smell that warms you when you trail your fingers along the archives in Heaven. You tighten your grip on the leaves, flexing your wings to extend in a display of dominance, even though it feels as if this demon has read you the moment you stepped into this realm.

The tome sits like an infant in his hands, small and precious as he turns a page, long galaxy shimmered fingers gliding along the text as he reads. That curiosity beckons, a familiar pulse of sin that fires along the nerves in your legs to take a step toward him, to peak over the edge of the book and look inside.

“Demon,” you press, swallowing a lump of your frayed nerves.

His eyes flicker up at you, burning gold irises mildly offended.

“That is not my name.” He turns another page, pulling his gaze away from you, dismissive. “Though, I suspect you already know what it is.”

Why would you know his name? While the sight of him invokes some distant memories, you both have never spoken. The confusion mixes with your flood of panic, your eyes locked on the ancient text in his hands.

“I don’t—I’m here on divine purpose. The Heavens sent me to deliver this relic.”

“They sent you to steal this relic,” he corrects. He slams the tome closed, the sound making you flinch before he walks back to you in casual strides, his form almost gliding on the obsidian floors.

“I would not steal.”

“Coming to a place without invitation and taking the items inside is, indeed, stealing.”

You sink back into the flowers as he draws closer, your heart pumping erratically in your chest, your limbs filling with shame at the logic he draws. But still, you resist.

“I was invited.”

You’ve always been around to see the return of angels from long missions where they are surrounded by darkness and pain. They seem so strong, their chests puffed in pride, their wings shining brighter as a badge of honor. There’s a bravery that you wish you could have right now. But you’re afraid—whether that fear is pure or mixed with something sensual and dangerous—you still don’t know.

“I-I was chosen,” you insist, despite what you feel.

“Oh, I’m sure you were.” His head tilts as he regards you.

The book disappears from his hands before materializing in your own, warm smoke wrapping around your wrists before dissipating. “Take it. Return to your divine purpose.”

You clutch the tome, hoping for relief to fill your wings, but you can only feel disappointment instead. You hesitate, flickering your gaze up to the demon who stands expectantly with arms crossed, like he knows what the outcome will be. Like he knows you will be back.

You turn around and flea down the obsidian path. The garden walls adorned with pearl flowers blur past you until—

The walls part again, the altar and demon coming into view.

“That’s not—” you spin, turning back toward the path and running faster this time, your relic pressed to your body, your lungs burning with the truth that you’re trying to deny.

The hemlock flowers seem to laugh as you pass, their white petals pointing the way with mocking fingers until—

The altar. The demon, an eyebrow raised. Again.

“Stop this!” Your voice breaks as you turn around to try again, sprinting so hard that your wings flap against the wind, your toes touching the top of the thin layer of water below you. You come to the altar a third time, then a fourth, each leading back to his knowing and patient form.

“I’m not doing anything.” His voice holds a gentle pity that pricks at your skin. “But why? Why would they send their most curious angel into a demon’s realm? Why alone? Why you?”

Something in his tone, in the endearment wrapped around seduction makes your grace shiver. You long to have an answer ready on your tongue, and you do, but it’s more practiced, copied, and spit out and resonates in your bones incorrectly.

“The relic requires eyes that can transcribe so I select the right one. My abilities—”

“Your abilities,” he interrupts softly, materializing behind you, “the ones that they’ve tried to suppress. The ones that they’ve feared. Yet suddenly, all of it is for naught, and you’ve been given this divine purpose?”

The towering demon circles you slowly, analyzing you like a predator waiting for his wounded prey to finally submit. You swallow hard, fingers digging into the leather of the book, eyes downcast.

“They finally saw my worth,” you insist, but the words sound hollow even to your ears. “I am pure. Free of sin. I do not stray.”

Warmth by the shell of your ear, the rich smell of him forbidden, an erotic melody that makes your blood long to sing.

“Lies.”

Your wings slash through the air in deep powerful strokes, twitching in their plumage. “I would not lie!”

“Neither would I, little angel. But it seems you have been led here under false pretenses.”

“No.”

“There is no relic.” The tome in your hands disappears, it’s solid form no longer tethered to existence.

“Give it—”

“There is no mission,” he presses on. “There is no divine purpose. There is only you. Cast down here and given to me.”

“To you…”

“An offering, little angel.”

The word makes you chill over in disgust, the very thought of being a sacrificial lamb enough to make you sick to your stomach. You shake your head vehemently, insistently denying as best as you can even though your grace radiates with the truth.

“No. They would never sacrifice someone. They—they wouldn’t—they wouldn’t do that to me.”

The demon clicks his tongue, pity filling his otherworldly features with a slight pout of his lips as he studies you. Before you can take another breath, the realm shifts, reality bending in a plume of smoke. The monolith and altar disappear, the darkness of the garden walls fading to give way to the eternal light you recognize as your home.

The tall pearly gates that surround your kingdom smile down at you, pearlescent clouds that seeps beneath the doors kissing your bare toes. Your wings waft in the air with ease, pumping euphoria through your veins as you smile up at your home. The tome is back now, cradled safely in your arms, reminding you of your mission. With a hope bright in your chest, you rapt your fingers on the doors.

“Father! I’ve retrieved the relic! I’m home!”

But the doors do not open. There is no sound of movement on the other side, no shift in the white clouds around you. It doesn’t even feel as if someone is not home. You can feel your siblings, you’ve always been able to sense them in your grace, but this sensation is reluctant. As if they peak through closed curtains on the other side, watching through a window with their hand on the door to prevent you from coming in.

“H-hello?” you try again, voice shaking as you knock with more fervor, denial warring with growing dread. “I-I said I’ve brought the relic.” Silence. “Hello?!” You smack on the doors now, the holy wood splitting at your skin and healing over again. Surely someone must be home. Maybe they are away? Maybe they are busy and do not hear?

You press your forehead against the door, wings drooping. Through your grace, you feel them there, still watching. Waiting for you to leave. But not to welcome you home.

“Please,” you whisper, eyes stinging. “Will someone—”

“They will not open the doors, little angel,” the demon speaks from behind you.

You jump from his sudden appearance, your body drained of all blood at the sordid thought of what is happening right now. Reality shifts again, the divine light of your home sucking back into darkness, the monolith and marble altar and obsidian floors coming back into view.

Your legs threaten to give as realization washes over you. You shake your head, lip quivering as tears blur the edges of your vision, your fingers curling on the altar. How could they do this to you? You have always struggled in this life, always been so ashamed that you do not think like the others. But to cast you out? To give you these wings and then make you feel as if you are beyond saving?

“Perhaps it is a mistake,” you whisper, your hope crumbling with every word. You feel his large form next to you before you hear any steps. “Why would they do this to me?”

You have no choice but to look up at him, to seek some form of answer in his burning yellow eyes. There’s a flicker of something that crosses his face—amusement? Maybe pity?

“They have offered you to me. A sacrifice to take the darkness from their pristine walls and feed it to the realm it belongs to.”

The words hang in the air, the horrifying truth once again presented to you. Your heart lurches in your chest. You recoil, your wings drooping to brush along the water covered floor.

“They fear you, little angel,” he continues, voice softening. “Your potential, your curiosity, your unwillingness to follow their absolutes.”

You slap your hands on the altar, the sound reverberating through the emptiness around you. “I will not.”

The demon chuckles, a low, sardonic noise that crawls up your dress and wraps around your throat. “Such defiance,” he purrs. “It’s quite…alluring.”

You can’t help the noise of shock and anger that crawls up your throat, shooting him a dark look. “I will not be corrupted by the likes of a demon like you.”

“Like me? So you imply that another demon may have a chance?” His jests fall on rageful ears, your wings flapping in defiance as you gape at him. He leans in close, his breath warm against your lips as he whispers. “You deny it all little angel. But you already are corrupt.”

You try to pull away from him, but a large hand falls to the small of your back, his fingers weaving through your wings in a caress that makes you choke on a whine.

“Come now, my dear.” The tip of his nose trails along your cheek, the touch sending flames of desire down your neck. You curl your fingers into a fist on the altar, your body ramrod straight.

“I can smell it on you,” he continues, his voice a silken caress. “The insatiable curiosity, the yearning for more, the essence that pools between your thighs every night before you sleep.”

The fingers in your plumage massage your skin, your shoulders relaxing into a traitorous sigh before with a swift motion, he plucks a feather from its root. You wince, your hand flying back to bat him away before he holds the feather in front of you, its tip stained a deep, inky black.

“Do you not try to hide it? You sneak to the archives. You let them smother your dreams. You do not tell them that you sneak away to the mortal realm to watch them eat, and bathe, and sin.”

He turns your wing to expose the underside where the feather was plucked, your eyes widening as if you’ve been caught. The skin is marred with a dark scar, the muscle underneath dried with blood and presenting as damning evidence of you plucking those feathers over and over, your cheeks covered in tears as you did your best to hide them away.

“You pluck your true self,” he whispers, voice laced with dry amusement. “But they only grow back stronger, don’t they?”

A breath catches in your throat, his words piercing through your defenses that you have built with weak mortar and brick for eons. Your eyes catch his, your desire reflected in burning gold.

“Even so…I cannot leave?”

He hums in reverence, a pointy finger trailing along your collarbone to brush a lock of hair from your shoulders, exposing more of your scent for him to breathe in.

“You have tried to leave already and you cannot. There is nowhere for you to go. I can let you roam to any realm you choose, but the doors of Heaven will be locked for you forever.”

Your eyes bubble with tears. It’s an unfortunate hand that you have been dealt. A hand always opened to you in promise even as the other held a dagger behind the back of divinity. There’s a deep part of you that would try to find some sort of silver lining in moments of darkness, a silver lining that only benefits you.

“If I stay…what will you give me?” you ask, your voice small and defeated.

The demon sinks to one knee in front of you, his eye level now only a little taller than you, but still more humane than his hovering from before. He offers a slow, predatory smile, his lips parting to reveal sharp pearly white fangs.

“You already think in ways that will benefit yourself, don’t you? Whatever you desire, little angel, I will give it.” The sharp point of his nail trails down your cheek, casting a wave of arousal down your body, your stomach tightening. “Anything at all.”

You cannot deny the promise of whatever you want does not make you perk mildly with curiosity, the same curiosity that was always quelled.

You lick your lips in thought, a nervous habit that your siblings have always discouraged. It’s unbecoming of an angel, they’d say, a physical manifestation of want. But you’ve always like the way your tongue feels against the plump flesh of your lips.

“Anything?”

He inclines his head to you, eyes answering without having to say. You hesitate, your mind racing with possibilities, unleashed with nothing to hold them back.

“I want…” you begin, stopping short at the coil of desire that burns in your body. You’ve never given it a true voice, and now that you’ve been presented with the opportunity, you are unsure of how to proceed.

The demon’s eyes roam over your form before they brighten with understanding. “You wish to read the tome.”

You nod, unable to speak past the dry lump in your throat. He summons it quickly, the worn leather materializing in his enormous hands as he hands it to you like an offering of forbidden fruit.

“Take it,” he urges in a seductive whisper. “It is yours.”

You reach out with trembling fingers, your grace pulsing with desire, it’s feel growing bolder as you snatch it up into your hands and let it flow through you. The leather is cool beneath your fingertips, worn with the promise of centuries of words you’ve always wanted.

When you open the book and let your eyes fall on the faded script, they rearrange themselves like before, translating to you in a seductive dance that makes your toes curl. The knowledge overwhelms you, flooding your senses in a wave of information about this realm—its history and inhabitants and magic. You feel a thrill of excitement, a suppressed sense of liberation as you turn page after page.

From your peripheral, you see the demon offer that same predatory smile. With a snap of his fingers, the world shifts around you again. You are further from the monolith but instead of the altar, you are surrounded by looming bookshelves, all filled to the brim. Ancient tomes and scrolls, dusty relics that have been neglected over the years but kept in condition by this demon who rules this realm.

“This is a taste of what I can offer you. All of it is yours.” He steps closer, the energy that he radiates filling your space with darkness and seduction that terrifies and excites you. “There is so much more I can show you,” he whispers in your ear again. “Would you like that?”

Even though your body and soul buzz with satisfaction from the books around you, the shame is still there, still bubbling beneath the surface next to your dejection.

Sensing your unease, he places tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, a gesture that you long to fall into before the world morphs again.

He takes you back to where you began, the realm’s outskirts. However there is no russet fog that is thick and smells of decay and misery, this time your vision is clear. The shadows that once hovered around you in your quest to the monolith now reveal themselves as souls—humans that you recognize from your years of observation.

“Do you remember her?” the demon asks, pointing to a small woman tending to a bush of flowers. “The woman from years ago who stole medicine for her dying child because she had no money.”

You do remember watching with tear filled eyes. It was an ancient time where death was a sentence given freely, and this mother had been called to the land of the dead for stealing bread.

“You watched her pray for forgiveness even as she did what was necessary.” His hand rests on your lower back, reassuring in its pressure. “Heaven would have condemned her. I gave her purpose.”

“How do you give purpose if you are a demon?”

The demon huffs, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. “It is true that I gain my strength through corruption. But it is corruption through intellectual rebellion and questioning minds. I am strong because no matter how many years may pass, there will always be a soul that questions.”

Each soul that you pass triggers a memory—struggles you watched but could never reach out and help. And in each memory, you gain more clarity—he was always there in the mortal realm, appearing in navy and tan just like you thought.

“You’ve been watching me then,” you inquire, tucking your tome closer to your chest as you cast a sidelong glance to him.

“It is my nature,” he rumbles from next to you. “You understand the beauty in grey areas. The necessity of balance.” His fingers glide along the empty space where you plucked your blackened wings. “Here, you could judge with mercy and justice. Rule in the knowledge they feared.”

Power.

A destructive thing that has elevated so many and torn them down. But the call of it has always been sweet, and now you are the subject of it. The very thought of it makes your knees weaken, your grace fluttering like a leave in the wind. This could be something more honest, not Heaven’s sterile authority.

The soil that is no longer red vibrates beneath you, pulsing up your ankles and calves, around your waist and torso in thick vines that pull you to the monolith miles away.

“Easy, my dear,” he murmurs, a muscular arm sliding around your waist to prevent you from swaying further. “The first taste of true power always overwhelms.” Your grace flickers between divine light and seductive shadow, somehow grounded by his hold.

Every soul’s story calls to you now, complex choices and grey morality making your divine nature pulse with stomped out recognition. You lean into him, falling more into his scent, your wings brushing his back to seek balance.

“I…” you trail off, clutching the relic in your arms, using it to ground you through your thoughts that fight between light and dark.

“What else would you like?” he purrs in your ear, his hand reaching out to the realm beyond that begins to shift again. A vast kitchen filled with warmth and enticing scents. “Earthly pleasures are denied amongst angels.” The pristine counter tops are soon overflown with rich goods and goblets of wine. “Even something as simple as this.”

You’ve never had wine—it’s forbidden—at least for you. But the way it catches the warm fireplace behind it, deep and rich…your mouth waters.

“Freedom to roam where you wish.”

Glimpses of different realms flash by—clouds of different shapes and sizes, landscapes of mountains and water as clear as crystal, beings that take on their own forms as they wander the lands—places you’ve only dreamt of exploring, of asking to see and always been denied.

His voice drops lower, more intimate and hot on your cheek. “Or perhaps…” Another shift. A dark room you remember faintly—through gauzy curtains, you see two figures entwined in candlelight. The brown skin of limbs and curves wrapped around tan that shimmers faintly. You recognize the hips of the woman, the collarbone and hair, and you realize it’s you. You wrapped around this very demon next to you who appears in the mortal realm as a human with carefully parted locks and a height fit for yourself.

Your blood boils beneath your skin as you try to look away. But like every forbidden thing that’s ever called to you, your eyes are drawn back to the scene—to the way your dream-self arches into his touch, the way your neck cranes, the sight of his tongue sliding along the sweat of your brown breast.

He hums from behind you, his demonic form pressing closer as you watch his human glamour worship your other self. That familiar wave of shame wars with the desire in your body, trying its best to smother the arousal that tightens your nipples beneath your white dress. All of it you suffer night after night—your grace singing, skin hot and sweaty—essence coating your thighs.

“I—” you stutter for words, eyes locked on the human form that rolls his hips and swallows a moan that shakes from your other-self. “This is wrong…”

His starlight fingers trace your collarbone, mimicking the tongue of his human form. “Your body remembers what they tried to smother away. How many nights did you wake burning for this? For me?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

The realm shifts one final time, the familiar garden walls and monolith appearing before you, the altar pressing into your back. The demon circles you, giving you no time to recover as his prying eyes pick you apart feather by feather.

“Even your grace recognizes where you truly belong.” He reaches out, trailing pointy nails down your spine, your body arching of its own volition. “Here. With me.”

His hands engulf your entire waist, his touch making you gasp as he lifts you up to sit on the altar before him.

“Every dream they tried to bury,” his hands trail up your thighs, “every desire they made you forget…” he steps closer, taking the oxygen from your lungs that you expel, his naked chest a hairsbreadth from your searching fingers. “All of it has lead to this moment. To me.”

“I—” you try to protest, but it dies in your throat as he tilts your chin to face him.

“You were meant for this realm,” he leans in, trailing his nose along your shaking lips. “I will make you mine. As my queen, my consort, my equal.” You press the tome further into your chest like a lifeline as his hand rests on the side of your neck, his nails grazing the lobe of your ear. “You’ve always known it. Even in those dreams where you surrendered to me so sweetly.”

His lips are close enough to kiss you, but they brush your jaw instead, trailing electricity down your throat. “Anything you want,” he breathes against your pulse, smiling at the sight of it’s rapid flutter, “you will have, little angel.” His mouth moves to that sensitive spot behind your ear that you discovered one night centuries ago. “But you must surrender to me. You have been offered and now you must be consumed.”

You clutch the tome tighter, using it as a tether even as your head tilts to give him better access. “I should not…”

“Surrender,” he whispers, lips ghosting your shoulder now, each kiss punctuated with promises that you should deny. “Let me worship you.” A kiss to your collarbone. “You will never be denied again.” His mouth traces back to hover over your lips. “Submit to what you have always wanted.”

The burn in your body makes your skin tingle, your core pulse with forbidden need, your nipples tighten in pleasure. Everything you’ve always wanted, could be given to you right now.

All of your dedication to faith has only led to tears and shame and disappointment. But here, you could be rewarded for your curiosity, exalted for your power to see what others do not, consumed in pleasure without the eyes of disdain looking down on you.

Here, with this beautiful demon, you can have it all.

For as powerful and as dark as he is, despite the patient hunger in his golden eyes, you realize he’s waiting. You must give the final say. A final say to do away with eons of denying, of plucking dark feathers, of letting them bury your dreams…

“Please,” the words shake from your lips before you can stop it, the tome slipping from your defeated grasp.

His eyes flash with satisfaction, mouth twitching with the urge to smile, but he relents. “Say it properly, little angel.” His mouth brushes the corner of your lips in not quite a kiss. “Tell me.”

Your wings spread wider of their own accord, trembling and stretching past invisible threads that have always held them down. “I want…I will to surrender.”

You hardly finish your words before you feel the press of his lips against yours, gentle and almost reverent. It’s the first time you’ve ever kissed, and it’s as euphoric as you’ve always thought. Your toes curl in satisfaction, your body hums with arousal, low and beneath the surface but quickly growing.

The hand on your neck tilts you up so he can feast further, a wet tongue sliding along the seam of your lips in a quiet ask for permission. You let your body guide you, opening your mouth to welcome him with a groan.

He tastes like he smells—green tea and honey, a hint of rich bread that you occasionally try in the mortal realm. It’s intoxicating, dark mingled with your fading sweetness. One that speaks of corruption and surrender.

What started as gentle quickly turns hungry and consuming. Your grace shivers as you catalogue every shift in your body, learning from the lessons of his tongue. Each stroke of him feels like corruption, like freedom, like finally coming home and you arch into him for more.

Your white dress slowly disappears before you, your body revealing to him naked and shivering. You try to cover yourself, an urge ingrained in you since your coming of existence, but the demon’s large hand stops you, gathering both hands in his strong grip and placing them at your sides.

He does not wait a second longer, his mouth trailing in worship down your neck and across your collarbone to pepper the swell of your breasts, your core pounding incessantly as he gets closer to one nipple before he wraps it in his hot mouth.

A moan shakes from your mouth, unexpected and loud into the quiet air of this monolith room. Your hands reach up to card in his golden locks, they’re warm and impossibly silky, the flame colored ends burning more than the rest. You let the pain of it singe your fingertips, basking in the euphoric pleasure pain of your skin growing back and burning all over again.

His hand envelops your other breasts, his sharp nails teasing your nipple before he drags it slowly across your areola. Your fingers tighten in his hair from the pain, your core dripping on the marble altar you sit on.

“You taste wonderful, little angel,” he purrs into the wet skin of your breast, pulling away before he gently nudges you onto your back. Your wings stretch languidly to make you more comfortable against the flat surface. The urge to cover yourself is not as insistent as before, the desire eating you up without reservation. “But I must taste more.”

He leans over the altar you lay on, kissing your lips gently before his tongue slides along the skin of your neck and down your body. It’s longer than a mortal tongue, and when they circle your nipples again, you shake at the pronged tip that flicks your bud.

He worships down your torso to dip in your navel, over the dip in your hips before his hands push your legs up onto his shoulders and he licks your sopping core from bottom to top.

You arch sharply, teeth digging into your bottom lip in a futile attempt to stop the moan from shooting from your throat.

You’ve watched the humans many times in the shadows, transfixed when their mouths worship these parts of their partner, but to experience it yourself? To feel the demons tongue part your folds and circle the bud at the top that makes you cry into your pillows at night. Heaven has hidden away beautiful pleasure.

“Look at how much you give me,” he whispers, kissing the inside of your thigh before you feel his tongue on you again, prodding your entrance that you’ve sunken your fingers into at night.

You bite down on your lip, shivering in pleasure as he prods further and further, your legs widening with each current of pleasure until he sinks his wide tongue inside of you. You taste copper from your bleeding lip that heals over quickly, your bare feet digging into the demon’s broad shoulders as he feasts on your essence.

With every gasp, your wings quiver in anticipation, curling into your body to protect yourself from a euphoria that is growing so quickly in your stomach.

“Please,” you whisper in disbelief, hands twisting his hair with your divine strength. He hums in satisfaction, satisfied with what you give and digging for more.

His tongue strokes inside of you with purpose, caressing something along the roof of your hot walls, his nose brushing your bundle of nerves once, twice, the pleasure enough to make your jaw drop, to make you pant feverishly into the air, to make your back arch until the base of your spine hurts as you come apart by the seams.

Your release makes you cry out into the air, the sound brushing along the monolith, the constant pulsing stopping to take in your pleasure before it resumes its steady pulse.

He rises slowly as you struggle to catch your breath, his golden eyes tracing over your shivering form from head to toe. His grey obsidian hands slide up your trembling thighs as he leans over you.

“Beautiful,” he purrs before he kisses your lips. You swallow your taste—tangy and rich like the divinity that courses through your veins. “But I must have all of you to make this complete.”

All of you?

You look down to find that his pants are gone, starlight shining bright on his hips that seem to point down to the member that hangs between his thighs. Your eyes widen—he’s definitely bigger than mortals, purplish veins that trail along the sides, a tip that is darker than his grey, the skin flickering with those shimmering stars you are growing to love.

He’s beautiful, and without thinking you reach out to touch. He’s impossibly hard but also incredibly soft, and you watch in fascination as his dark flame-colored wings expand and shake in supplication.

He leans his head back to the grey skies, swallowing deeply at your touch and there’s a sense of power you feel. To know that with a single touch you can make this powerful demon fracture just a little.

He wraps his hand around yours to stop you, pulling you up so that he can sit on the altar instead. Even though he’s tall, you’re able to reach up and wrap your arms around his neck.

Your wings stretch and flap behind you, sparse feathers wafting in their air to fall around you both in white, grey, and black. Even though you feel loose from your first release, there is a subtle power that thrums with every flap of your wings.

You look at the monolith again. The pulse has picked up steadily, seeming to match your own heartbeat. Maybe there is a connection to the power inside of it and what might be coursing through you now.

As you tail up the length of it until it disappears into the grey clouds, you think faintly of those who cast you out. The pleasure fractures a little with pain, your eyebrows furrowing in disappointment.

“My angel,” he calls to you, softly, turning your gaze back to him. His golden and flame locks are messy, his horns pulsing with shimmering light, the navy and gold armor gone so that he is as naked as you are. “That pain that you feel will go away with time. I will make sure you will never know it again.”

The promise fills you with hope, and the press of his lips to yours makes the sordid thoughts fall to the wayside, your pleasure humming to life at the base of your spine.

The touch of his fingers to your core makes you whine into his mouth, pulling away with only a gossamer of saliva connecting you both. He strokes your bud, drinking your sighs and moans as your thighs and stomach tighten, your fingers digging into his soft shoulders.

He pulls you up onto your knees, your wet entrance brushing the thick tip of him before he guides you onto him slowly. It’s a stretch, far thicker than your fingers and foreign inside of you.

The initial pain makes you gasp, tears pricking your eyes. It feels as if you’re being split in two from your hips, torn apart with a strength that only makes you shiver and moan.

One hand slides along one wing to soothe you, his lips pressing to your neck. Eventually, the pain gradually melts into pleasure, his hands possessive on your hips as he guides you with careful restraint. You quake at the feel of him inside of you, stretching and molding your muscles in each euphoric stroke.

“Perfect,” he breathes against your shoulder. “Look how well you take me.” His voice resonates deep in your core, a sound that both terrifies and entices you, a forbidden melody that you are slowly learning the notes to.

You whimper in response, relishing in his praise as you begin to move faster on top of him, bouncing with a newfound sense of purpose. Your wings flap with more insistence, stretching and bending with the power that begins to seep out of your skin, white feathers less in abundance with each flap.

The demon’s nails dig into your waist and you sigh into the pain, picking up the pace until you’re not sure where he stops and you begin.

The power takes you higher and higher, your skin breaking into a sheen of sweat, your gasps dying in the air as you pant and moan above him. The pleasure at the base of your spine heats quickly, bubbling with sticky satisfaction as it slides down your vertebrae and into your core.

“That’s it,” he growls, nails digging into the flesh of your cheeks, canting your hips toward him so the tip of his member brushes that spot on your upper walls once again.

You choke on a moan, head thrown back in bliss, nails dragging down the solid muscle of his chest. Your wings curl around you, dark feathers replacing white with each thrust.

“Transform for me completely. Embrace what you truly are.”

“Yes,” you hiss, your mouth falling open as you struggle for breath. Your core tightens around him, the bundle of nerves shaking even untouched, and you’re falling, you’re falling, you’re—

The demon shifts again, his member leaving your hot core and denying you of release, your hands now pressed to the altar as you’re bent over. You whine in annoyance, looking over your darkening wings at his large form as he heaves with breath.

He regards you with a dark look, one that shows just how capable he is of picking you apart, and your mouth fills with saliva at the thought.

He draws one leg up onto the altar before sliding into you once more without pretense. You groan around the stretch of him, marveling at the pinch of pain that bleeds into overwhelming pleasure as he picks up his pace inside of you.

What starts out as reverent and gentle soon turns feverish. His strokes are deeper, his hips snapping against your open legs, a haze of pleasure clouding every crevice of your mind as he kisses spots inside of you that makes you groan, hiss, and whine.

The monolith picks up in speed, pulse matching your heartbeat as you climb higher and higher up a ladder of darkness that has always been denied.

You don’t know why, you don’t know where it comes from, but the last slivers of your salvation slide to the surface, tickling your throat one last time before they leave your soul forever.

“Please, please, Father,” you moan, eyes filling with tears of satisfaction as your body jerks with every harsh thrust of the demon behind you. One of his hands weaves into your locks, curling tight before yanking you back to him, arching until our stomach presses into the altar. “Forgive me.”

“We will have none of that,” he warns, out of breath. “You seek forgiveness to someone who is not listening. You pray to someone who has cast you out. And here you are. Under me. Calling for him as you weep on my cock in pleasure.”

His sharp fingers slide down your hip to circle over your bud of nerves and you cry out, tears streaming down your face, power radiating up your limbs. “Keep moaning, little angel. Keep begging.” He leans over you, pressing his hot chest into your wings, his breath hot on your ear as the tips of his pronged tongue slide along your lobe. “In your eyes you are soiled. Filthy. And my sweet goddess loves it, doesn’t she?”

You shake your head to deny, deny, deny. But a hard thrust, a stroke of his thick cock that kisses your cervix, and you sob in the pain that molds into pleasure. Your nipples brush against the cold marble, each icy touch shockwaves down your spine.

“I’ve watched you, my dove. When you study the humans in their pleasure. I’ve seen the way your pupils dilate. I’ve smelt the essence between your thighs. You dream of this don’t you?”

You try to whisper your Father’s name one last time, to show with your last breath of divinity that you were an angel who worked hard.

“You won’t say his name here anymore. Not in my realm—in our realm. Not in my arms while you cum on my cock. The only name you will moan and beg and plead is mine.”

Your wings flap in reverence, responding to his demands as they stretch around you. No longer are your feathers white, now they are inky black, as dark as midnight, as mysterious as the darkness you peer into.

The monolith quickens, a hummingbird’s wings, the bright core sliding up and down the tree-like structure and bleeding with vibration through the ground and up the altar.

Even as your mind tries to deny what you are becoming, your soul speaks otherwise, your core clenches around him unwilling to let go. The demon behind you grunts with each thrust, low and seductive on the back of your neck, his nose smelling the skin.

“I can’t—” you choke, fingers sliding on the altar from your sweat. “Please.”

“Please what?” he groans.

“More, please more, more, more,” you beg, words and resolve splintering in your throat as he rewards you with deeper thrusts, each one making you see the stars that shimmer along his skin.

“Say my name,” he demands, one hand sliding up your throat. You gasp at the subtle pressure on each side, not enough to do anything, but enough to make a dark current of pleasure pulse inside of you. “Let the skies above hear who you belong to now.”

You don’t know where the name comes from. He’s never given it to you. You’ve never asked. But somewhere, deep down in some ancient place in your soul, you’ve always known all along. Known him.

“Nanami,” it falls from your lips like a broken prayer. “Nanami, please—”

His teeth graze your pulse, sharp fangs dragging along your skin as pleasure builds in your body beyond reason. Your wings spread impossibly wide, your skin hums in arousal, hot and stinging.

The monolith’s pulse quickens with you, its light growing brighter as the power in your body travels through your veins to complete a transformation you can feel in your fallen grace. Even with every harsh pump of his hips, you feel worshiped. Worshipped by his hands. Worshipped on this altar in front of a monolith that watches over you both.

“You were an offering—a gift to me. Molded by the heavens. And now you’re mine. And your Father sent you to me,” he growls against your throat. “My dark goddess.”

His thrusts grow harder, more desperate, each one a brand searing its mark into your very soul. A mix of your essence and his precum pools on the altar where you are joined. The last embers of your angelic resistance crumble completely, replaced by an insatiable hunger that mirrors his own.

“Let go. Surrender to me completely.”

“Yes, yes, yes!”

That hot lava at the base of your spine explodes like a volcano of unholy fire as his teeth sink into your neck, marking you as his. Your release bursts from you, your core squeezing his thick member, your muscles seizing as your mouth falls open and your cries echo through the realm as divine light fractures into starry darkness.

All of your abilities that have been repressed swirl within the darkness and mix with the forbidden powers awakening within you. It feels like the very essence of your being is changing, transforming into something wild, a reflection of the demon who guided you with a sultry voice down this path.

You feel a rivulet of your blood trail down the side of your neck from his puncture, blazing with the essence of darkness that now pumps through your veins. He releases his teeth from your neck and turns your head to him with more force than necessary, sliding his tongue into your mouth as he kisses you senseless.

You can’t breathe, your body is loose, your grip on the edge of the altar slipping with each relentless thrust but you love it. Every smack of heavy balls against your clit, every slide of sweaty muscles of his chest against your wings and back, every pulse of your cunt around his cock.

Nanami pulls away breathless, the hand around your throat tightening imperceptibly, the sharp tips of his fingernails breaking skin. His pronged tongue slides along your cheeks to collect your fallen tears.

Every noise that leaves your mouth is against everything you hold dear, a sound of sin, debauchery and lust.

“I’m yours,” you whisper against his lips, your breath punching out of you with each desperate thrust. Nanami’s eyebrows furrow and his nose crinkles with a snarl, his wings pulsing with flame as his release climbs up his body as well. “I’m yours, Nanami.”

“Take my essence, little angel,” he demands, biting your lip until you draw blood. You lick up the coppery tang, falling into the prickly grip on your neck as he takes what he needs from you. “One day, when you have ruled with me for centuries to come, when you are one in your skin, perhaps my essence will take root.”

Your eyes widen at the implication, your soul no longer quivering in blasphemy but in satisfaction. How you would love that. One day. With him.

“Yes, Nanami,” you whisper into him, accepting one more kiss as he strokes once, twice, and a final time before he shivers from head to toe and groans with deep pleasure into your mouth.

His darkness seeps into the remnants of your light, a forbidden dance of shadow and flame now made true. He pumps hot semen into you, far too much for comfort and your essence combines with his demonic energy, feeding the power that still ebbs in your veins.

He falls into you, his hold on your throat vanishing to slide down to your naked stomach, pressing to the spot where he is still lodged inside. You reach back, carding your hands through his burning hair, reveling in the shiver he gives you.

He pulls out of you slowly and your cunt clenches around nothing, legs shaking at the feel of his semen dripping from you. He does not entertain the mess but gathers you in his arms, carrying you past the defiled altar and monolith that has fallen into a gentle ebb once more. The obsidian floors open up again, the thin layer of water rising within a large tub of water that steams with inviting heat.

He sinks you both into the steaming water, your new darkened wings flapping at the moisture that touches your plumage. When he dips your head beneath the surface, it feels like baptism in reverse—washing away heaven’s hold rather than blessing you with it. When you emerge, you feel reborn, your shame and disappointment for your former family now washed away.

You sigh at the effect hot water on your muscles, melting into the large expanse of his chest. He does not speak and you do not ask questions, content to watch him manifest a tray of oils and soaps that smell of green tea and burning honey.

He plucks a marble comb from the tray and drags it gently through your curls, each stroke bending with the texture of your hair to guide without tangle, each pass worship and calming.

Once your hair is untangled and silky, he washes your skin with the soap and oils that smell of him. You study him openly now—the way constellations shift across his skin, how his golden eyes hold both demonic power and intelligent precision, the careful way he maintains order even in darkness.

He dresses you in black fabric that flows like liquid shadow, clinging to your curves like his possessive touch. Instead of the starry sky, the black material is adorned by golden accents that match his eyes and armor.

The altar recedes into the floor and in its place, two large thrones emerge. Carved from pure white marble shot through with veins of gold, they’re identical in height and grandeur—a statement of what he promised you—equal rule.

Dark vines curl around their bases, blooming with black roses, while plush velvet cushions in deep navy make them as comfortable as they are magnificent.

He throws you an inquisitive rise of his brow, what was once used to pick you apart upon first meeting him, now make your lips curl in a smile. You pretend to ponder which you will choose, humming noncommittally before you sink into one chair, sighing into the softness around your body and wings.

Nanami bends down, taking a hand in both of his before he kisses your palm. “You look magnificent,” he purrs, your hand still in his while he sits on his throne.

With a snap of his fingers, the garden walls disappear, revealing the vast landscape that was once shrouded in horror and fear when you first arrived.

Now it appears without malice, without misery or shame, but of exotic greenery and souls who have been neglected for only choosing a path that feels wrong even though it is right.

The heavens is but a distant memory now, infinitesimal in the many years you will continue to exist. Now, you bask in the new power in your bones, in the brush of Nanami’s lips to your palm once more.

As the stars on his skin ebb and fade with light, you take in the muscles of his torso, the strength in his movements as he worships you without speaking.

It has taken eons to get to this moment, but some part of you preens with the satisfaction that Nanami has always been watching, waiting for you to come to him.

Thanks for reading and Happy Halloween!

[starlightism]

ME OR THE TSUM ? — ♡ gn!reader x Riddle, Jamil & Idia

Genre : Just a lot of fluff with some jealous boys ♡ (⁠*⁠´⁠ω⁠｀⁠*⁠)

— The tsums were back and you visited them but when you show too much affection to the tsums the human counterparts start getting jealous !

A/n : this is my first time writing stuff (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠) so please be kind . . !

© starlightism – Don't steal / copy my works please !

You played with the tiny tsum of the housewarden by hugging it, letting it run around and feeding it miny tarts, the tsum was very happy and clinged onto you and wouldn't be so happy when you walked away to get something or do something. Riddle was sitting next to you on his bed. He kept on side-eyeing you and the little creature with angry eyes.

♡｡

After the tsum fell asleep from exhaustion from playing with you Riddle walked up to you with a pouty look on his face and hands on his hips "Oh hey Riddle!" You gleefully said "What's wrong?" Your oblivious tone made him turn a bit redder from anger and blush from shyness "I command you to stop..giving that thing affection and g-give some to me too!" He shouted. Aww how cute you thought and then softly kissing the housewarden's cheek as his face turned as red as a tomato "Ehe next time you should've just told me that you wanted my love too!" You giggled at the sight of Riddle blushing "Hmph! I'll remember this! You teasing me..." Was all he could say before hugging you with a pouty look on his face still but it looked more like he was trying to contain his smile .

You visited Scarabia for some cooking time with Jamil, at the kitchen the tsum helped you out with everything, you needed an onion or knife? The Jamil tsum happily ran over to get it for you, when you were cutting or cooking something it would hug your arm making sure you stir or cut correctly but it just actually wants to stay with you. Jamil that was watching all of this started feeling jealous and even got angry so he decided to teach the tsum a lesson.

♡｡

The next time you visit both of them and the tsum starts showing affection to you, Jamil did something reckless that he would never do it again, he grabbed you and kissed you on the lips. The tsum and you were surprised by the sudden kiss, the tiny vice housewarden squeaked and jumped on your shoulder trying to pull you back and Jamil pulled out from the kiss to look at the tsum with a " they're mine " look "I apologize for... suddenly doing that..." Said Jamil looking a bit shy yet cold like his usual self. You simply just smiled and said "It's ok!" Your also blushing so that's good ! But the tsum still kept on jumping around you.

During gaming night the tsum decided to play with you both too. The tiny thing kept on playing and always won and you always complimented it but Idia was getting pouty, he would cross his arms and let out a sigh as he restarted the game to try and win again but of course you noticed his sourness and you came up with a plan that was awesome.

♡｡

You whispered to the tsum your plan: The small thing would pretend to fail the next game and you would reward Idia with a kiss! The tsum agreed with you by nodding and you gave it a small kiss to make it happy. In the next round the tsum tried it's best to play terribly and Idia was starting to be excited, he was smiling and looked even more focused on the game and finally... He won the game! He happily shouted out that he won but immediately went back to his quiet, shy self as always. You winked to the tiny tsum and went over to kiss Idia, his hair turned into a soft shade of pink and it started flaming even more "E-ehhh?!" He expected to be complimented like the tsum but instead he was rewarded with a kiss which shocked him even more "There! Now I've gave you both a reward for completing the game!" You said while smiling "I'll go back to Ramshackle now, goodngiht you two!" Idia sat there still blushing from what happened and the tsum looked quite happy too.

[mooooonnnzz]

Miguel taking his daughter to spider HQ?

Miguel takes his daughter to HQ! How bad could it be?

✎ my brain is brewing with words

✎ fem reader!!

✎ send more ideas cuz my brain is in writing mode rn hehe

✎ oh miguel is also lil grumpy here bc why not

✎ ok thats all!! :p

Miguel is very hesitant to bring you to HQ. He doesn’t want to have you near harm's way. Plus, there would be nothing for you to do there so what’s the point?

Though, you’re persistent and didn’t take his no for an answer.

He eventually gave in when you roped Lyla into it. He couldn’t deal with two annoyances at once. (He means it endearingly)

So, he brings you to HQ—against his will

Your eyes sparkled with amazement as you took in the place. The area was huge. “This place is so cool!” You marveled. You look over to Miguel, beaming brightly. “This is awesome!” You whispered and yelled, your attention going back to the Spider-People who swung and walked by. Miguel shook his head in amusement, a smile pulling to his lips. As you continued to wander off, he noticed you were walking a little close to the edge. “Cuidado!” His webs shoot around your waist as you near the edge. He pulls you into his chest, letting out a relieved sigh. “You have to be careful when you’re walking around here.” He’s following you like a hawk after that.

Since it’s your first time there, everyone jumps to the assumption that you’re another Spider-Woman who Miguel or Jess recruited.

Miguel is quick to squander those ideas. He informs them that you’re his daughter and he’s showing you the place.

They all have to take a moment. They’re all like, “What? Miguel has a daughter?”

When they ask why he never told them, he responds by saying; “You never asked.”

“That’s your daughter?” Peter B. Parker was gagged. He couldn’t comprehend the fact that Miguel had a daughter. “How come you never talked about her?!” His eyes are blown wide and his jaw is slack. Like, Miguel O’Hara has a daughter?! “I do. You just don’t listen.” He grumbled out, sending an icy glare to Peter. Miguel does talk about you, it just gets overshadowed by how much Peter talks about Mayday. “What? When!?” Peter sputters out. “All the time.” You roll your eyes at Miguel’s cold behavior. “Papi, don’t be mean.” Miguel’s pinched expression visibly softens at your words, right when Miguel is about to apologize, Peter turns over to you excitedly. “Do you want to meet my daughter?” Miguel lets out a long sigh. “Mayday would love to meet you!” Peter grins. “Speaking of the little devil, where is she?” He looks around, lips downturned into a frown. He cups his hands around his mouth. “Mayday!” Another sigh leaves Miguel’s lips. “Mayday, honey! Where are you?” Miguel takes this opportunity to grab your shoulder and walk away from Peter. Once he’s far enough, he gives you a tense smile. “Oh, there you guys are! For a second I thought you ran away from me.” Peter swings right next to Miguel, Mayday sitting comfortably in her baby carrier. The smile on Miguel’s face drops. “Anyways, meet Mayday!”

Miguel dreads the moment when you have to meet Gwen, Miles, Pav, and Hobie. They always bug him about you, wondering when he’ll bring you over.

They’ve seen him see videos of you and him on his little holograms as he worked, he isn’t secretive about you.

Plus, whenever he gets the chance to talk about you, he doesn’t hesitate to start blabbering.

So they know pretty much almost everything about you.

Blame Miguel

“Miigueel,” Gwen dragged out his name teasingly as she swung in front of you and Miguel. “Is this who we think it is!” Pavitr was brimming with excitement as he dropped right next to Gwen. “Is this Miguel’s daughter?” Hobie raised a brow as he leaned an arm on Pav’s shoulder. “About time we meet her!” Miles smiled, giving you a friendly wave. You wave back, chuckling to yourself. Miguel dragged a hand down his face as he groaned dramatically loud. “Estos son los imbéciles de los que te sigo hablando.” Miles' face dropped to an offended look. “Really?” Miles says. Hobie furrowed his brows. “What did he say?” He looked over to Miles in confusion. Pavitr shrugged. “I don’t know but I don’t think it was a good thing.”

The whole tour was a headache for Miguel. He couldn’t stay in one place without Gwen offering a new place to head to, or Hobie asking questions on how you manage to have a dad like Miguel.

Pav was adding his commentary to certain situations which drove Miguel up the wall. Miles was trying to strike up a conversation with you, trying to impress you by speaking in Spanish.

Then Peter came along and the whole thing fell into chaos

“Hold Mayday real quickly. I need to take a picture of you two!” Peter handed you Mayday and she fumbled in your hands until you managed to rest her on your side. “Picture? Can I join!” Pavitr jumped right next to you, striking a dashing smile as he struck a pose. Miles and Gwen swarmed in the photo, settling around you and posing. Gwen did a peace sign while Miles did bunny ears on Gwen. Hobie lazily smiled, body halfway into the frame. “Hobie, get your whole body in the photo!” Peter motioned Hobie to move into the frame. “I don’t wanna.” Hobie shrugged. Peter sighed and let him be, gleefully saying “Cheese!” as he snapped a few photos. “Oh, MJ is gonna love this!” Peter mumbled to himself. Mayday looked up at you, cutely babbling in her baby language. Her chubby arm grappled onto your shoulder and pulled herself up with her inhuman baby strength. “Oh! Peter, she’s climbing on me!” You watch in horror as she settles on your shoulder, only to fall back and luckily get caught by Miguel. “Oh, don’t worry. She does that.” Peter waves it off, eyes glued on the photos. “Por Dios,” Miguel murmured under his breath.

When you got home, Miguel swore to himself that he’d never bring you back over there.

You went back to HQ a day later.

[frost-queen]

Travel fevers (Reader x Colin Bridgerton)

Requested by anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @alex–awesome–22, @ellie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve , @queen-of-books , @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown , @wildieflower , @meyocoko , @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @swampything07, @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury , @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @markive-m, @erikasurfer

Summary: Colin and reader meet on his travels to Spain. Your father having brought you along to his travels so many times when you were young. Colin and you started to bond more, falling deeply in love. When you return to Mayfair, he introduces you to his family with the intention to make you his.

“Those barrels go in the back.” – you said pointing with your pencil in the direction. Scribbling down on the paper you were holding as the man pushed the barrel further up the ship. Another man came up the plank from the port with a barrel. – “Spices Senorita.” – he said tipping his head at you. You nodded writing down on your paper, redirecting him to a corner of the ship.

Turning slightly around to the deck of the ship, you started counting to make sure your calculations were correct. – “That’s three barrels of salt.” – you said out loud to one of the workmen by your side. – “Four barrels of pickled fish. Two with peppers and twelve boxes of oranges.” – you finished looking at him if you were correct.

“Ay senorita.” – he answered taking his hat off to you. – “Wonderful. Go take a bottle of rum, Miguel.”  - you patted him on the bac. Miguel bowed at you before taking his leave. Another one of the worker approached you, needing a signature from you. You happily signed it, gaze falling down on a man standing to stare below on the port.

“Seeing anything you like?” – you called out, catching him off guard. – “I’m… I’m sorry but did you just…” – he began running up the plank, grabbing onto the railing to get closer to you. – “Is this your ship?” – he questioned making sure he didn’t violate your property by remaining on the plank. – “Yes.” – you replied seeing him gape with curiosity at you. – “Never seen a woman own anything?” – you asked moving your hands to your hip.

The man quickly shook his head. – “No, no I didn’t mean it like that.” – he corrected himself. – “It is just admiring.” – he spoke. – “A woman doing business?” – you teased, quirking your eyebrow up. The man chuckled amusingly. – “A woman traveling the world.” – he answered making you laugh loud.

He dropped to a bow, introducing himself. – “Lord Colin Bridgerton.” – he addressed himself. You dropped into a curtsy. – “Countess Y/n Y/l/n.” – you introduced yourself. – “Would my lord be interested in the invitation of welcoming on my ship?” – you asked, gesturing behind you. – “I will gladly accept, your ladyship.”

You moved aside for Colin to step on the deck. Guiding him to a spot on the deck near the masts. Using barrels as seating. Miguel approached, placing two glasses down. – “Apologies that it is not as comfortable as you are used to, my lord.” – you said while Miguel poured the drinks. Colin smiled politely. – “Part of the experience.” – he answered making you smile. Colin and you rose your glass before drinking.

You set your glass down, admiring the man for a moment. – “What brings you to Spain?” – you asked curious what an English lord was doing so far from home. – “The culture.” – he answered, setting his glass down as well. – “I needed to spread my wings a bit before returning home.” – he added. – “I see. The women must be interesting then.” – you responded making him nearly choke on his drink.

“I…I…” – he started, trying to hide his laugh, waving his hand across. – “Oh goodness did I make you blush?” – you teased looking mischievous at him. Colin set his glass back down, clearing his throat. Throwing you flirtatious glance back. – “Is there a lord Y/l/n?” – he wanted to know, being very curious.

You shook your head. Colin looked all smug, gleaming with your response. Placing his hand on the barrel in front of him, he was intrigued to know more about you. – “What makes a countess like yourself travel so far from England as well?” – he said. You leaned your elbows on the barrel, chin resting on your hands. – “My father used to bring me along to his travels ever since I was a young child.” – you told him. – “Travelling is in my blood.” – you finished.

“My father cared so much to be present with the imports. My mother died when I was very young, so he had no other choice than to take me along. He’d rather travel the world with me around then return after so long and having missed seeing me grow up.” – you explained, leaning back to gaze at the horizon for a moment.

“Your father sounds like a remarkable man.” – Colin answered. – “He is.” – you sighed out. – “Is he…?” – Colin was curious. – “Gods no.” – you called out half in shock. – “He is simply enjoying retirement. The longs trips take a toll on his body. He is back at home managing from afar.”

Colin hummed loud. He rose his glass once more. – “To your father.” – he said to toast. You brought your glass up as well, letting it touch with his. – “To travelling.” – you replied before taking a sip. – “What is your next destination?” – Colin asked pointing at the last barrels that were loaded on deck. – “Portugal.” – you told him. –“Then it is a trip back home.” – finishing. Colin glanced teasingly your way.

You leaned closer to him. – “Care to join or does my lord have other obligations?” – you flashed your gaze down to his lips before locking them on his eyes once more. Colin came leaning in as well, arm resting on the barrel. – “I have no other obligations my ladyship than to come with you.” – he answered, eyeing your lips as well.

If he were still in England, he didn’t know if he would be so bold. But something about being away from the ton and restrictions made him act more freely. Perhaps it was also the culture not being so stiff as England that he adored.

You poured him another glass, chatting a bit more till it was time to leave the port. Taking the long journey to Portugal. Colin has been on a ship before, yet this one felt special. You had invited him that night to dine with him. Something instantly clicking. Colin and you kept throwing glances at each other from across the table. His head spinning as he felt himself go feral for you. The way you were teasing him by just being present.

The ladies in Spain were pleasant, but you were on a different level. Perhaps it was the wine or the rockiness of the waves that made him act so out of control. Colin got up going round the table to you. You blinked surprised when he pressed his hands against your cheeks. Guiding you upwards as you rose from your seat. Eyes locked on each other with the most lovable expression.

“Forgive me your ladyship.” – he breathed against your skin before smacking his lips to yours. You felt the deepness of his kiss, holding him. Retrieving your lips, you turned round, swiping your hands over the table to clear the way. Colin smirked as you hopped onto the table. Grabbing him by his shirt, you pulled him close, wanting his lips on yours once more.

It took around a month to arrive at the harbour of Portugal. Colin and you deeply falling in love with each other. You were arranging the supplies as Colin was watching you from afar. Smiling admirable at you. Feeling himself lucky that he found you on his travels. Your gaze locked briefly on him, smiling. Colin walked over, feeling as if it was his cue to come closer to you. He approached you, taking your hand to kiss it.

It made you chuckle, giving him a playful shove. – “It is nice to see husband and wife travelling together.” – a worker said with a thick accent as he helped some crates board the ship. – “Oh we aren’t…” – You told him, waving your hand across. – “Not yet.” – Colin interrupted, making you gape at him. He took your hand once more, smiling.

“For I intend to make you mine once we return home, Y/n.” – he said leaving another kiss on your hand. It made you bashful. – “I’ll be holding you onto that dearest Colin.” – you replied giving him a playful shove. Colin assisted you in the business, recounting the supplies to be extra certain. You finished up the paperwork, paying the dockworkers from Portugal.

They were preparing the ship to sail out as you stood by the railing. Colin came over, moving his arms around your waist. – “Now another month of sailing before we are on English soil.” – you informed him as he left a kiss on your shoulder. – “The only reason I am looking forward to getting back home is to make you my wife.” – he breathed out leaving another kiss on your shoulder.

It tickled making you move your shoulder up. – “What will your family say?” – you turned around in his embrace to face him. – “Leaving to travel Europe and return with a girl whom you wish to marry.” – you said teasingly. Colin smiled keeping his hands against your cheeks. – “Not just any girl. My beautiful, beautiful Y/n.” – he responded before kissing you. A month passed as the ship was on English ground. The shipment send out to other businesses as you received payment for them.

Colin and you got into a carriage, riding for him home. You were very nervous as you wondered what his family might think. Colin holding your hand gave you some comfort. The trip was long with several stops, but you were glad to make it to the mainland. Mayfair. The hometown of Colin Bridgerton. The carriage came to a stop before the house. Colin getting out, holding his hand out to you. You accepted it, getting out as well.

The doorman opened the door. Colin held his finger up to you, wanting you to wait just a moment. He entered the drawing room as you heard lots of loud voices and screams of happiness. Stroking any last wrinkles out of your dress, you prepared yourself to meet his family. Colin reappeared, holding his hand out to you. You took it as he lead you into the drawing room. – “Mother, brothers, sisters I want you to meet my betrothed Countess Y/n Y/l/n.” – Colin introduced you as you curtsied deep for them.

Violet looked with surprise at her son. – “Countess?” – Anthony said to Benedict, surprised that his brother had aimed so high. – “It is a pleasure meeting you, Viscountess Bridgerton.” – you said, curtsying once more. – “She’s pretty.” – Hyacinth said to Francesca.

Violet smiled delightful, coming over to give you a hug. – “Oh look at you.” – she said holding her hand under your chin. Smiling, she held her hand, looking back at her own children. That was their cue as Hyacinth rushed over to you. She wrapped her arms around you, hugging you tight.

“I have a new sister.” – she said squeezing you in her embrace. Colin tapped her on the shoulder, to let go. – “I have brought gifts for you all from my travels.” – you told them. You handed Hyacinth her gift as she gasped loud. You then gave everyone else their gift as they were obsessed with how wonderful it was. Colin smiled back at you, kissing your hand.

Proud that his family had accepted you and seen just how wonderful you are. Colin and you waited till the appropriate time after the social season to get married. Forever binding to each other. Travelling Europe together for business whenever it was needed. A life Colin couldn’t say goodbye to anymore.

-----------------------------------------

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

[listofwhyyouloveher]

Could you perhaps write how the gang first reacted when they first saw the reader??? Maybe make the reader fem too?

Your work is awesome! have a good day 💞

Summary: The gang's first time seeing you. Warnings: none Author's note: short today, sorry. PONYBOY CURTIS Pony's first time seeing you was at school. It was the first day and he was walking into class when the door closed on him. Turns out, you were holding the door open, got distracted and closed it on his face. You immedietly apologized and he accepted it graciously, knowing you didn't mean it. He thought you were pretty cute so he sat next to you in class. He admired your intelligence and his friends made fun of him for staring at you the whole class. JOHNNY CADE Johnny's first time meeting you was at the drive-in. He sat down in a seat you were saving for your friend. He apologized immedietly but you told him it was fine and that there was more seats on your other side so he could sit there. The whole movie he kept side-glancing at you and your friend, mostly at you because he kept getting distracted by your angelic laugh and voice. He didn't see you around after that for a long time but your face never left his mind. SODAPOP CURTIS Sodapop met you because you were a customer at the DX. You just needed to stop by and get gas but you accidentally spilled the contents of your bag when getting your money. He rushed to help you pick up your things and he tried to make small talk until he looked up at you and nearly fell back at how beautiful you were. You laughed at his speechlessness and compared it to a movie scene, to which he responded, "every good romance movie needs a pretty actress," STEVE RANDLE You met him at a bar, he was getting wasted with his best friend and you were there just to party. He complimented your jewlery, saying that his friend Dallas would kill to have that tuff of a necklace. You joked around with him a little bit and he ended up buying you and your friends some drinks and inviting his friend, your friend and you back to his place for a place to crash. He woke up with a terrible hangover and with no reccollection of what happened. Then he saw you sleeping on his couch and was so happy that you actually went home with him and didn't leave. TWO-BIT MATHEWS Two-Bit met you playing poker at his friends house. You were mutuals with said friend and was just there wasting time and getting wasted. He placed a bet on who'd get to take you home that night because he thought you were so pretty. Each guy who tried made pretty good impressions but Two-Bit was so drunk when it finally came to him that he ended up making you laugh at his state more than anything. You ended up going home with him anyways because you thought he'd run into trouble walking home alone this late and in that state. Safe to say, Two earned a lot of money that night. DARRY CURTIS Darry met you grocery shopping because he needed the last gallon of milk but so did you. You both just kind of stood there awkwardly looking back between the milk and each other. You held out your hand to signal for him to take it and he did reluctantly. But he couldn't let an oppurtunity to woo a generous and pretty lady go to waste. He invited you over for some chocolate cake made with the same milk later on. DALLAS WINSTON Dallas met you at Bucks party. He was bartending for a few extra bucks of cash and you were there with a group of girls and a few unwanted men. He immedietly started flirting since you were the prettiest out of the group and that's just who he was but your annoyance made him want to pester you more. He ended up giving you a free drink with soothed your nerves and got you talking, he offered a date later on in the week and you accepted.

[sushiyuzu]

Yeloooo

I love your writing! If your requests are open could do a peice about a buff mc?(like vi from arcane if you've seen it). Like they're really good at boxing, and fighting in general, and are also really smart.

But lately they've been feeling insecure about themselves, and they really don't prefer showing the love and deepspace guys their fighting form, and don't really like to show off. However one day, the guys see mc(maybe during their mission), boxing and stuff and find out they've been feeling insecure.

I'm sorry if this is too long, remember to drink water and stay safe!!

“you are enough.”

author’s note: helloooo! thank you so much for your sweet words and request 🥰 this took me more than 6 hours to finish (LMAO😭) but i had a great time writing this, and i hope this is the one that you’re asking for. i deeply apologize if it’s not to your liking :c but i also hope you enjoy every bit of it! remember to take care of yourself, stay hydrated, and keep shining. you’re awesome! 🤍

summary: you secretly train in a gym to prove your strength and overcome hidden insecurities. unexpectedly, each of the four lads guys—sylus, zayne, xavier, and rafayel—catches you in the act, each reacting in their unique way. from sylus's protective concern to zayne's gentle encouragement, xavier’s playful teasing, and rafayel’s bratty yet caring attitude, they all reveal their affection and interest in you, showing that your strength isn’t just in your fists, but in the bond you share with each of them.

warning: fluff + comfort — feelings of insecurity, brief mentions of self-doubt, light teasing, and affectionate moments.

word count: 3.9k+

you sit alone in the small, dimly lit gym, the steady rhythm of your punches echoing off the walls. sweat drips down your face, muscles straining as you focus on the bag in front of you. each hit lands with precision, powerful and controlled. you’ve spent countless hours here, pushing yourself to be better.

better.

stronger.

faster.

no, it’s not just about boxing—it’s about proving something to yourself. you’ve always been good at fighting, your movements strong and your punches sure. but still, that nagging feeling of insecurity tugs at the back of your mind.

you don’t like to show the others this side of you. sure, they know you’re strong and capable, but you keep the boxing part to yourself. there’s something raw and vulnerable about it. maybe it’s because, despite your strength, there are days when you don't feel strong enough. when you look in the mirror and wonder if being good at fighting is enough. or maybe it's the way the guys: sylus, zayne, xavier, and rafayel, always seem so at ease with themselves. they carry themselves with such confidence that sometimes it makes you feel small in comparison.

sigh.

you’ve never talked about it. instead, you train in secret. the gym becomes your sanctuary, a place where you can let go of all those doubts, even if just for a while. the world blurs around you as you throw another punch, then another, the sound of your fists hitting the bag filling the empty space. you’ve got a mission with the team later, but for now, it’s just you and the bag.

what you don’t know is that today, the guys are running late, and each have decided to meet up with you at the gym before the mission.

sylus 𓅪

you’re in the middle of your training when you hear a faint sound—almost like a low growl—coming from the entrance of the gym. startled, you spin around to see sylus standing there, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. his silver hair shines even in the dim light, and his crimson red eyes are fixed on you, intense and unblinking. there’s a strange look in his gaze, like he’s both angry and... something else you can’t quite place.

“so,” he says, his voice calm but laced with a sharp edge, “you’ve been hiding this from me.” he steps forward, each movement slow and deliberate, and you suddenly feel trapped under his stare. “training in secret. fighting. why?”

you swallow hard, suddenly feeling exposed. “i—it’s nothing,” you stammer, quickly looking away. “just a way to stay in shape, that’s all.”

sylus’s eyes narrow, and he steps even closer, his presence almost overwhelming. “don’t lie to me,” he says coldly, his tone making your breath hitch. “i know when you’re lying. why did you keep this from me?”

you clench your fists, trying to ignore the way your heart is racing. “because it’s... it’s mine,” you say finally, forcing yourself to meet his eyes. “it’s something i do for myself. i don’t need to show it off to you or anyone else.”

his expression doesn’t change, but there’s a flash of something in his crimson gaze—something almost like hurt. “you think i wouldn’t understand?” he asks softly, his voice almost a whisper. “or did you think i’d look down on you?”

“it’s not that,” you say quickly, feeling a mix of frustration and shame. “i just... i didn’t want you to see me like this. to see me when i don’t feel strong enough.”

his eyes darken, and he takes another step forward, closing the distance between you. “you think i only care about strength?” he asks, his tone turning rough, almost angry. “you think i’d judge you because you’re not ‘strong enough’? do you really think so little of me?”

you flinch at the harshness in his voice, feeling tears prick at your eyes. “no, that’s not what i meant,” you say, your voice breaking. “it’s not about you—it’s about me. i don’t feel like i’m enough, okay? not compared to you.”

sylus’s jaw tightens, and he suddenly grabs your wrist, pulling you closer until you’re inches apart. his grip is firm, almost possessive, but there’s a gentleness in the way he holds you that makes your heart ache. “you don’t get to decide what’s enough,” he says fiercely, his crimson eyes burning into yours. “you are more than enough. i don’t care how many punches you throw or how many fights you win. i don’t care if you’re not perfect. you’re mine, and that’s all that matters.”

your breath catches, and you stare at him, stunned by the raw emotion in his voice. “sylus...” you whisper, feeling your walls crumble. “i just didn’t want you to see me weak.”

he lets out a low, bitter laugh, his expression softening for the first time. “weak?” he repeats, shaking his head. “you’re the strongest person i know. not because you can fight, but because you don’t give up. because you keep going even when you feel like you can’t. that’s what strength is.”

you don’t know what to say, your throat tight with emotion. sylus reaches up, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering against your skin. “don’t hide from me,” he says softly, almost pleading. “don’t keep things from me. i want to see all of you, even the parts you think are weak. i need to see them.”

you nod slowly, your heart aching at the sincerity in his eyes. “okay,” you say quietly. “i won’t hide anymore.”

he pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest, and you feel the warmth of his body seep into you. “good,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to your forehead. “because you’re perfect just the way you are.”

you close your eyes, leaning into him, and for the first time, you feel a weight lift off your shoulders. with sylus’s arms around you, the doubts and fears seem a little less heavy, and you realize that maybe, just maybe, you don’t have to face them alone.

zayne ❆

you don’t hear the door open, so you don’t realize you’re no longer alone in the gym until you hear a quiet sigh behind you. startled, you spin around and freeze when you see zayne standing there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. his black hair falls slightly into his eyes, and those familiar hazel-green eyes—usually so calm—are watching you with an intensity that makes your chest tighten. he’s not smiling, but there’s something different in his gaze, something deeper.

you’ve never seen him look at you like this before.

“you’ve been keeping secrets,” he says, his voice steady and low, but there’s a hint of disappointment hidden beneath his calm tone. “and here i thought we shared everything.”

your throat goes dry, and you quickly look away, feeling your face burn. “i didn’t mean to hide it,” you say softly, your hands dropping to your sides. “i just... didn’t want you to see me like this.”

“like what?” he asks sharply, pushing himself off the wall and taking a step closer. his expression is still serious, but there’s a touch of concern in his eyes now. “like the strong and determined person you are?”

“no,” you reply, shaking your head. “like someone who isn’t sure they’re strong enough. like someone who’s struggling. you always seem so... confident. i didn’t want you to see the parts of me that aren’t.”

his brow furrows, and he closes the distance between you with a few quick steps, stopping just in front of you. without warning, he reaches out and cups your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him. “i know you,” he says firmly, his gaze locking onto yours. “i’ve known you for a long time, and there’s nothing you could show me that would make me think less of you.”

you want to look away, but his touch is gentle and steady, grounding you in place. “zayne, i—” you start to say, but he cuts you off, his expression softening as he leans down to press his forehead against yours.

“i’ve seen you at your best and your worst,” he murmurs, his tone quieter now, almost tender. “and i’ve never doubted you for a second. not once. so don’t you dare think that your insecurities make you weak.”

your eyes sting, and you blink rapidly, fighting back tears. “but you’re always so sure of yourself,” you say, your voice barely a whisper. “i feel like i can’t keep up with you.”

zayne’s eyes soften, and he tilts his head to kiss your forehead. “you don’t have to keep up with me,” he says gently, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “we’re in this together, remember? you’re not alone. you never were.”

you swallow hard, feeling a mixture of relief and vulnerability wash over you. “i guess... i was afraid you’d see me as less,” you admit, your voice breaking. “that you’d think i’m not enough.”

“never,” he says with a quiet certainty, his thumb still stroking your cheek as if to reassure you. “you are more than enough. you’re strong in ways that go beyond fighting or training. and you have no idea how much i admire you—for everything you are.”

you let out a shaky breath, feeling the weight of his words sink in. zayne’s gaze is so warm, so unwavering, that you can’t help but believe him, even if just a little.

“besides,” he adds with a small, teasing smile, “you should know by now that i’ve always had a thing for strong women.”

you can’t help but laugh softly, even as the tears finally spill over. “you’re impossible, you know that?”

“and you’re stuck with me,” he replies, his smile widening as he leans down to kiss you—soft and lingering. when he pulls back, he presses his forehead to yours again, his breath warm against your skin. “don’t hide from me again. i want to see all of you. the strong, the uncertain, the silly... every part.”

you nod slowly, feeling a warmth spread through your chest that chases away the doubts that had been weighing you down. “okay,” you whisper, your voice steadier now. “i won’t hide anymore.”

“good,” zayne says softly, pulling you into his arms and holding you tightly, his chin resting on top of your head. “because i love every part of you, and i’m not going anywhere.”

you close your eyes, leaning into him, feeling his steady heartbeat against your cheek. with zayne holding you close, the lingering fears and insecurities don’t feel quite as overwhelming, and for the first time in a long while, you allow yourself to relax—safe in the knowledge that you don’t have to face them alone.

xavier ⟡

your punches are sharp and focused as you go through your routine, lost in the steady rhythm of training. sweat drips down your face, and you barely notice the ache in your arms as you continue to hit the bag, each strike coming harder and faster. you’re so focused that you don’t even hear xavier enter the gym until he clears his throat softly.

you freeze, your breath catching in your throat. slowly, you turn around, your eyes meeting his gentle blue ones. xavier stands by the door, his grey-brown hair slightly messy, looking like he’s just woken up. he blinks a few times, almost as if he’s trying to wake himself up fully. “oh,” he says quietly, tilting his head to the side, a small, confused smile playing on his lips. “you’re here... i didn’t know you’d be here.”

you feel your heart sink. out of all people, xavier is the one who sees you the most clearly, even when you try to hide. his smile, his easy way of teasing you—he’s always so gentle, so kind. and now he’s seeing you at your most vulnerable.

“yeah, i’m here,” you say, your voice barely steady as you wipe your forehead with the back of your hand. you force a smile, trying to act like it’s no big deal, but you know you’re failing. “i just wanted to get some training in before the mission.”

xavier’s eyes narrow slightly, and he steps closer, his movements slow and calm. there’s a familiar softness in his gaze, the kind he only shows when it’s just the two of you. “you didn’t tell me you box,” he says, his voice light and curious. “i thought we didn’t keep secrets.”

you wince, turning back to the bag and avoiding his gaze. “it’s not a secret,” you mumble, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over you. “i just... i didn’t think it mattered.”

xavier is quiet for a moment, and then you feel his hand on your shoulder, warm and steady. “it matters to me,” he says softly. his voice is so calm, so understanding, that it makes your chest tighten. “you matter to me.”

your throat goes dry, and you have to fight back the sudden urge to cry. “i’m sorry,” you say, your voice barely more than a whisper. “i just... i don’t feel like i’m good enough. not for you. not for anybody. you all seem so... sure of yourselves. and i’m... not.”

xavier’s expression softens, and he steps in front of you, gently taking both of your hands in his. his fingers are cool and gentle against your skin, and he squeezes your hands lightly, his gaze never leaving yours. “that’s not true,” he says, his tone firm but kind. “you are enough. more than enough. and you don’t have to pretend to be something you’re not.”

you shake your head, the words you’ve been holding back for so long finally spilling out. “but i feel so... small sometimes,” you admit, your voice breaking. “like i can’t keep up. like i don’t belong with you and other people.”

xavier’s expression shifts, and for a moment, his usual calmness is replaced by something deeper—something almost fierce. “you belong with us,” he says, his voice firm, almost stern. “with me. you don’t have to be perfect or strong all the time. i like you just as you are. even when you’re unsure. even when you’re afraid.”

you feel a tear slip down your cheek, and xavier’s eyes soften as he reaches up to gently wipe it away with his thumb. “and if you ever need to feel strong,” he adds with a teasing smile, “you can always beat me up in the gym. though i doubt you’d ever get the chance, since i’m clearly superior.”

you laugh, the sound shaky and a bit broken, but it’s real. “you wish,” you say, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. “i’d take you down in seconds.”

xavier’s eyes light up with amusement, and he leans in closer, his nose nearly brushing yours. “is that a challenge?” he asks, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. “because you know i don’t back down from challenges... or naps.”

you can’t help but laugh again, the tension in your chest loosening as you feel his warmth, his quiet affection, wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. “maybe it is,” you reply, smiling up at him, feeling lighter than you have in days.

he smiles back, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “good,” he murmurs, pressing a light kiss to your forehead. “because i’d like to see you win. you deserve to win, in everything.”

you swallow hard, feeling the weight of his words settle into your heart, making it hard to breathe. “xavier,” you start to say, but he just shakes his head, pulling you into a gentle hug, his arms warm and secure around you.

“no more hiding,” he says quietly, his voice soft in your ear. “if you ever feel unsure or lost, you come to me, okay? we’ll figure it out together. you’re not alone. not now, not ever.”

you nod against his chest, closing your eyes and letting yourself relax into his embrace. “okay,” you whisper, your voice steadier now. “i promise.”

“good,” xavier says, his tone lightening as he pulls back slightly to look at you. his smile is gentle, almost boyish, and he reaches up to ruffle your hair, making you huff in protest. “now, let’s get out of here before i fall asleep standing up. we’ve got a mission to handle, and i can’t do it alone.”

you nod, feeling a warmth spread through your chest as you smile back at him. “you and your naps,” you tease softly, and he chuckles, his eyes bright with amusement as he tugs you towards the door, his hand warm and steady in yours.

together, you leave the gym behind, the doubts and fears fading with every step. with xavier by your side, you know you don’t have to face them alone—not anymore.

rafayel 𓆟

your fists slam into the punching bag with a steady rhythm, each hit releasing some of the frustration you've been holding inside. you’re so focused that you don’t hear the door creak open behind you, but you definitely hear the familiar, amused voice that follows.

“wow, didn’t know you had that much fight in you,” rafayel’s teasing voice echoes through the gym, and you freeze mid-punch, turning around quickly.

he’s leaning casually against the doorframe, a smug grin on his lips, his bluish-pink eyes sparkling with mischief. his dusky purple hair falls perfectly into place, parted in the middle, and he looks as carefree as ever. the moment your eyes meet, he raises an eyebrow, a playful glint in his gaze.

“didn’t anyone ever tell you that keeping secrets is bad?” he says, his tone mocking, but there’s a hint of curiosity in his eyes as he steps closer, his hands stuffed lazily into his pockets.

you scowl, turning back to the punching bag and throwing another punch, harder this time. “what do you want, rafayel?” you mutter, trying to ignore the way your heart speeds up. “i’m busy.”

he clicks his tongue in a playful scold. “oh, come on. don’t be like that,” he says, strolling up to you with a cat-like grace. he stops just a few steps away, tilting his head as he watches you with an almost childlike interest. “i’m just curious. i had no idea you were secretly training to be a tough boxer.”

you glare at him over your shoulder, trying to act annoyed, but he just laughs, a sound that’s both light and irritating. “what, are you scared i’ll beat you up?” you snap, throwing another punch, feeling the burn in your muscles. you don’t want him to see how much his presence unsettles you.

“me? scared?” he chuckles, brushing a hand through his hair in a dramatic gesture. “please, i could take you down without even trying.”

you roll your eyes. “then why are you here?” you challenge, pausing to catch your breath. “shouldn’t you be somewhere else, being annoying?”

he smirks, stepping even closer until he’s almost within arm’s reach. “maybe i just like watching you struggle,” he says, his tone playful but his eyes a little too sharp. “or maybe,” he adds, his voice dropping to a whisper, “i wanted to make sure you weren’t pushing yourself too hard... like you always do.”

your breath catches, and you can feel your face heat up. you look away, pretending to adjust the tape on your hands. “i’m fine,” you mutter stubbornly, but you can’t hide the waver in your voice. “i don’t need you to worry about me.”

rafayel’s smile softens, just a little, and he takes another step forward. you don’t move back, even when he’s close enough that you can feel the warmth of his presence. “who said i was worried?” he asks, his tone light and teasing again. “i just don’t want you to mess up before the mission. wouldn’t want to carry you if you got too tired, after all.”

you roll your eyes, but a small smile tugs at your lips despite yourself. “i can handle myself,” you say, trying to sound confident, but it’s hard when he’s looking at you like that, with those sharp, knowing eyes.

“sure you can,” he says with a grin, reaching out to flick your forehead lightly with his finger. you swat his hand away, and he laughs, that carefree sound that always manages to get under your skin in the most annoying way. “but if you wanted to impress me, you could’ve just asked.”

you huff in frustration, turning away from him again. “i’m not trying to impress you!” you insist, but you know he can hear the lie in your voice. he always does.

“right, right,” he says, his tone dripping with sarcasm. he circles around to stand in front of you, forcing you to meet his gaze. his expression shifts, just for a moment, and there’s something softer there—something almost serious. “just... don’t overdo it, okay?” he says quietly, his voice lower now. “i don’t want to see you get hurt.”

you blink in surprise, the sudden change in his tone catching you off guard. before you can respond, his teasing smirk is back, and he’s stepping away, waving a hand like he’s dismissing the whole conversation. “anyway, if you need some real training tips, you know where to find me,” he says with a wink, turning on his heel and heading for the door. “try not to get too bruised up before then.”

you watch him go, feeling a strange mix of frustration and warmth settle in your chest. you know he’s just teasing, like he always does, but there was something real in his words—something that makes your heart beat a little faster.

as he reaches the door, he pauses, glancing back at you with a lazy grin. “and don’t get any weird ideas,” he says, pointing a finger at you like he’s scolding a child. “i’m only looking out for you because you’d be useless to me if you got injured.”

you can’t help but smile, shaking your head. “whatever you say, rafayel.”

he gives you a final, bratty smile before disappearing out the door, leaving you alone in the gym once more. but somehow, the space feels a little less empty, a little warmer, and you can’t stop the small, amused smile that lingers on your lips as you turn back to the punching bag.

you take a deep breath, feeling lighter, and throw another punch—this time, with more confidence than before.

remember: embrace your strengths and be proud of who you are. even when you feel insecure, remember that those who truly care about you will accept and admire every part of you. you are more than enough — always & forever.

[irisintheafterglow]

hii iris!! being one of my fav writers, i was wondering if it would be okay to please request you write something halloween related between Satoru and reader while they're in a lowkey relationship and instructors at jujutsu tech? maybe he drags reader and the students on some night of shenanigans? up to u, i just love how u write and i feel you'd kill this hehe

thank u so much! have an awesome day!

life's no fun without a good scare

summary: you have the brilliant idea of playing hide and seek in a corn maze against the most powerful sorcerer in the world. should be fun, right?

wc: 2.6k

cw/tags: fluff and crack and crack and fluff, established relationship, swearing (a lot of it, you'll see why lol), mentions of eating, angst if you squint, co-parenting megumi AND his friends!!

note: AAAA hi!! thank you so much for the love omg :')) i hope you like this, i definitely enjoyed writing it even though i did get a tad carried away lol. GOD this was so fun to write, thank you for suggesting it

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3 thank you for your support!!

“I’m going to eat so much candy, I’ll throw up.”

“What’re those tubs over there?”

“They’re for waterboarding Itadori,” Megumi deadpans without hesitation, clearly misrepresenting the apple bobbing game just ahead. You state his name warningly, like he was six years old again, and he mutters a half-hearted apology under his breath. “Maybe we switch out the victim for our esteemed teacher, instead.” You cover a snort with an unsuccessful cough. Even though you’d practically raised him, his jabs at Satoru never lost their humor. 

“Your suggestion will be taken into careful consideration,” you say, “though it will become more of a possibility if he continues to run on Satoru-time.” Nobara hums in agreement, kicking a stray piece of hay with her toe while you continue to progress through the general admission line to the pumpkin patch. Your fashionably-late boyfriend had sent you a very cryptic text at noon, instructing you to “pack up the kids and take them to the following address.” When you replied with a chain of question marks, he sent an infuriatingly unserious GIF that had you pinching the bridge of your nose.

“What time did he tell you?”

“5:00.” You check your phone preemptively, already anticipating the followup question. 

“And what time is it now?”

“5:20,” you sigh, sliding your card across the shelf of the ticket booth and receiving four orange wristbands in return. After slipping them onto the wrists of your three unofficial children, Itadori and Nobara immediately disappear into the crowd; Megumi, however, stays plastered to your shoulder and makes his distaste for the bustling festival known. You scan nearby groups of people for a tall idiot with white hair with no luck. If Satoru still showed up, he would have to pay for admission himself. “Let’s grab a table and find me a bottle of soju–”

“Barely twenty minutes and you’re already drinking? Since when did Shoko replace my lovely partner?” Satoru’s sing-song voice calls out from behind you, like he’d been standing with you the entire time. Despite your attempts to remain irritated at him, you can’t resist when he turns you around, lacing his fingers with yours and pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek. “Hi, gorgeous. What took you so long?”

“I assumed you were running late, like you always do,” you argue futilely, the world melting away when you catch his eyes over the rims of his sunglasses. “Is this not too overwhelming for you? Having so many energy signatures in one place?”

“I’ll be fine,” he assures you with a confident wave of his hand. “After all, I have your energy to ground me.” Your legs start to feel a bit gelatinous when you hear a very obvious throat clearing itself and suddenly remember that Megumi is still standing there. “Shouldn’t you be on the playground or something, my dear student?”

“Shouldn’t you be on the playground or something, my questionable teacher?” You burst out laughing and your boyfriend’s jaw drops in indignance, gearing up to say something just as childish. On instinct, you cover his mouth with your hand, recoiling in disgust when his tongue darts out to lick your palm. “Gross. I’m gonna find my friends.” 

“Don’t do anything dumb!” The boy waves his hand dismissively and you roll your eyes. In a different universe where he actually was the child of you and Satoru, he had his father’s sass gene. 

“He’s used to this by now, isn’t he?” Satoru chuckles and it reverberates against your body, making your head spin in lovesick circles.

“I’d imagine so, seeing as we did raise him like this,” you answer, letting him start to guide you toward whatever stand interests him first, his arm draped over your shoulders. “Do you think Yuuji and Nobara have figured it out?”

“If Megs hasn’t told them, then definitely not,” he states with utmost certainty, looking over one of the games with all the concentration of a hunting tiger. In the middle of the stall was a large pool of water, and swirling around in it were small, colorful bowls in the shape of blooming flowers. The goal, you guessed, was to land a small ball in a certain color and get a corresponding prize from the lineup hanging overhead. It was truly an enticing array of stuffed animals, too, from wolves and monkeys to dinosaurs and little princess dolls. “Which one do you want?”

“Hmm? What do you mean?” 

“Choose a prize and I’ll get it for you, guaranteed.” 

“Guaranteed? You do know these are designed to scam you, right?”

“And I am designed to do whatever you want, so take your pick.” After a moment of consideration, you point to a stuffie of a black cat wearing a pumpkin costume. “Cute choice.”

“It reminds me of Megs.” He laughs and pulls his arm back, stretching his neck from side to side and handing a few dollars to the game attendant. It was all for show and completely unnecessary, and he knew that; he also knew that his over-the-top shenanigans always made you laugh after a stressful week. Whether you knew it or not, he’d noticed you were increasingly overwhelmed by all the work from the previous days, specifically regarding training his students while he was off on an assignment. Along with completing your own missions, you were supervising the three first years and guiding them through boring paperwork, which he knew made you feel like shit. It’s why he suggested you go to the festival in the first place, to get your mind off of work and spend time with you. And, he’d be damned if he didn’t get you that fuzzy little cat on his first try. 

“Watch the master at work, sweetheart,” is the last thing he says before carefully tossing the first of three balls toward the only purple bowl in the pool. He’s the tiniest bit off, though, and he curses under his breath as it ricochets against the edge and into the water. “That was a practice shot.”

“Sure, baby, sure,” you giggle, stifling your amusement into a fist. His tongue peeks out the side of his mouth in absentminded focus and you’re sure he’s found the perfect arc when the voice of one of his students cheers from behind you. 

“You’ve got this!” Despite their well wishes, Yuuji and Nobara accidentally timed their cheers at the precise moment his fingers let go of the ball, messing up his aim even worse than the first time. They deflate in embarrassment and Megumi’s face turns red from trying not to laugh. The usual deadly aura radiating off of him increases tenfold and it makes you shiver despite the warm autumn air. “T-Third time’s the charm, sir!”

“Fucking hell, why do I even bother–”

“Satoru, that’s cheating,” you whisper, sensing him imbuing the tiniest amount of Cursed Energy into the last ball to easily manipulate its trajectory. “I can just buy the thing online; you don’t need to be doing all of this.”

“I can buy you anything online, but I also want to prove that I’m better than everyone else,” he mutters much too seriously than the situation required. “Plus, once I win that damn cat, it’ll have a nice story to go behind it.” 

“Your ego truly knows no bounds.”

“You know you love it.”

A minute later, you’re walking away from the game with the fuzzy cat in your arms and Satoru’s arrogant smirk by your side. The rest of the night is spent watching him drag his students into various inflatable obstacle courses and tumbling down the slide after they push him over the edge. In spite of all the excitement, you have to drag them to a picnic table to sit and eat; even then, the three students challenge their teacher to a funnel cake eating contest. To no one’s surprise, Yuuji wins by a landslide. 

Satoru pays for everything, of course. When someone wanders over to a game booth, he pays for their game every single time and continues to pay until they win a prize. By the end of the night, all five of you have at least one prize in your possession and Satoru’s bank account is barely affected. 

Before the fair closes, you propose a game of hide and seek in the gigantic corn maze. You and the three students would get a five minute head start, and then Satoru would enter and race to find you before you reached the other side. The first years’ eyes shine with excitement when you tell them they can use techniques as long as they don’t make a mess. You consider throwing a veil over the entire thing, just to make sure Megumi’s dogs don’t start any rumors of hellhounds in the area. 

“If the kids can use theirs, then you’re not allowed to use your technique,” Satoru concludes and you make a noise of indignation while you gameplan by the entrance of the maze. “Don’t start with me; that’s totally fair!”

“I don’t understand how that’s fair in any way,” you argue up at his ridiculously confident smirk. You wanted to slap him and make out with him at the same time, none of which would have been appropriate in present company. 

“You make portals, sweetheart. If we’re making the maze a no-fly zone and I run into one of your doorways, I’m gonna be in there for the rest of time.”

“I’ll just make simple doors!” 

“The last time you said that, I was stuck on a mountain for three hours,” he reminds you and you huff in defeat, completely forgetting the three pairs of eyes watching this entire conversation. Sweetheart? Since when did he call anyone sweetheart? Nobara and Yuuji knew that you both were friends from high school, but the bickering seemed suspiciously akin to that of an old married couple. They glance at their spiky haired friend for confirmation of their theories, but he avoids their gaze and continues munching on pumpkin spice popcorn. “Alright, five minutes on the clock. Don’t let me catch you,” he smiles wickedly and you all but shove the three students into the maze. 

In a blink, Megumi summons his dogs and sends them to look for the exit. As you sprint down straightaways, Nobara intermittently sticks a few nails into the walls, essentially creating security sensors that will trigger if Satoru passes by it. It also helps establish what paths you’ve already explored and where you need to go next. In what feels like seconds, five minutes is gone and your heart drops as you see a black veil descend over the maze. The atmosphere of the maze feels electric, like wind before a storm, and you nervously laugh and urge the students to move faster. 

“So, are we ever going to talk about you and Gojo?” 

“That’s what you’re focused on right now?” You shoot back in amusement and Nobara shrugs, sending another nail into the corn with a strike of her hammer. “I don’t think this is the proper place to have this conversation!”

“So, are you two actually dating? Megumi won’t say anything, but he’s a terrible liar when we ask if he knows something!”

“I think the latter shooting ominous strikes of lightning into the air is a more pressing issue!”

“Lightning strikes which, I’ll add, are increasingly getting closer!” Yuuji’s voice rises to a panicked yelp and you curse in disbelief as your group slams into another dead end, giggling from sheer fear and swatting the students to find another way. All the while, blasts of pure Cursed Energy fly upward like fireworks, illuminating the field in terrifying shades of blue and red. “Any status on the nails?”

“He just passed the third one closest to us,” Nobara reports, face slowly losing color as the most powerful sorcerer in the world hunts you down. “You can’t send Nue to stall him?”

“You think a bird is going to stop Gojo Satoru?” 

“Well, your damn dogs haven’t come back yet and we’re running out of options–” The back-and-forth is cut short by a faint howl coming from the back right corner of the maze, just a few hundred yards away. One of the dogs appears from the floor, hooking a sharp right turn that has you four stumbling to catch up to it. The howls continue, as do the strikes of lightning, while you follow the dog to what you assume is the exit. “The nails haven’t picked up his energy signature in a while,” Nobara informs you in slight relief while the howling grows closer with every step. Yuuji’s mouth breaks into a victorious grin, but you and Megumi aren’t convinced. 

“Does that mean we lost him? Or did he get lost?” 

“Something doesn’t feel right,” you mutter low enough for only Megumi to hear and he nods in agreement. “I don’t feel him anywhere.” 

“That cracking behind us is just the corn, right?” Yuuji’s voice becomes uncertain and the static in the air only becomes more palpable. You’re so close to the exit and you can tell he’s getting nearer, but something in your gut tells you that you can beat him. But, Nobara’s realization makes your blood run cold. 

“Wait, I don’t sense any of my nails anymore–” 

“Found you.”

Your throats rip a collectively brutal screech as Satoru’s voice seems to come from directly behind you, and you glance backward to only see a pair of knife-sharp blue eyes staring through the black corridor of the maze. Colorful curses of fear babble from the mouths of the students and you slam your feet even harder into the ground as you sprint for the exit. The bright lights of the pumpkin sign were in sight; you just had to make it a little farther. 

“Elephant, elephant, elephant!” Yuuji’s suggestion comes out as incoherent yelps and he tries to fire off black flashes to no avail. Megumi looks at him like he’d grown four new limbs. 

“What?!”

“Summon the fucking elephant, Fushiguro!” A nail rockets away behind you only to be immediately sent back, embedding itself in the husk by your feet. 

“I hate to break it to you, but the elephant isn’t going to do anything when–”

“When I’m already right behind you,” he whispers directly into your ear and you scream as his footsteps line up with yours and his arms snake under your legs, lifting you off the ground like you weighed no more than a cotton ball. He disappears with you into darkness, firing off a single precise attack that cuts the lights of the entire exit so that the path is pitch black. Somehow, you end up outside of the maze while the three students continue to panic inside and he gently sets you on your feet. His menacing aura disappears in a blink and he nuzzles his nose into your neck, his arms holding you close by your waist. “I found you,” he says with a smile. 

“You did. I know you always do, eventually.”

“Mhmm. Did you have fun?”

“Honestly, that was the most terrifying experience of my entire existence,” you laugh, threading your fingers into his hair and tugging him even closer. He chuckles warmly, ironically just as quiet as the fearful bickering of your students in the maze. You barely feel any sweat on his forehead against your shoulder and you can’t even imagine how messy you looked after running for your life. “I look like shit, don’t I?”

“You’ve never looked prettier,” he murmurs, pulling away briefly to press a kiss to your cheek. “We should probably go grab the kids.” You hum absentmindedly, vaguely making out the voices of Megumi and Yuuji trying to figure out which way to go. 

“Stay here a little longer. Let them think you’ve taken me away to your scary vampire lair, or something.”

“As you wish, sweetheart. I'll be your scary vampire anytime.”

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