#also it just stinks that it has to be white

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

@zepskies

I'm not kidding this might be my favorite gif ever lol. BUT I am so excited to read the last chapter of this series!! I mean, I'm sad that it's coming to a close, but I'm hoping that in the future there might be a fic with a little Elijah (or a little Jude) running around. 😏

I love the little details about him and Benny pranking each other, but it really just made me sad because Dean left them 😭 But at the same time they are opening up with one another and sharing their life stories and I couldn't be happier.

“I will protect you,” she says. Dean frowns. He doesn’t like the sound of that. On one hand, it warms him that she seems to really mean it. On the other hand, he doesn’t want to know what it’ll take for her to protect him.

Again I stan a strong woman and Mila is just so stinking badass that I love her so much. Also yes girl, PROTECT 👏🏻 YOUR👏🏻 MAN👏🏻

But if he only has two choices, then he at least wants to make sure Mila gets home safely…even if that means he won’t be. He’s come this far. If his career is worth the price of what he feels is right, then his life is worth it too.

Love that you're referencing the honorable choice title here, and showing that Dean is a man of honor and that he did make a choice that maybe messed up his life, but he cared more about doing the right thing. And I think you did a great job of titling the series and the chapters in general. Each one corresponds beautifully to the themes in the chapters so you should be proud!

It’s good that Mila rides that giant mustang; if she were on a mare, like Dean, she’d already be sunk up to her shoulders. Baby’s a big girl, to be sure, but Mila is nearly a foot shorter than him, with a smaller frame. He watches her carefully as she makes her way ahead of him.

I know that something dramatic is about to happen and that I shouldn't be thinking about this right now, but I just love height difference so much😭. When a guy is bigger than his girl oh wow it sends me to the moon. I think it's so cute and goodness the cuddles must be so fun.

“Dean!” Mila yells, for the first time using his name. The last thing he registers is the fear in her eyes—afraid for him.

Again, devastating moment, but... SHE SAID HIS NAME FOR THE FIRST TIME! And the running her fingers through his hair?!?!?!?!

Dean wants to sit up and take an inventory of his injuries, but he can’t make his body move just yet. He’s too tired and bruised. He also likes being in her arms. He likes her fingers in his hair, now moving to his cheek. He sighs through his nose in contentment as her thumb drifts over his overgrown stubble. 

“I guess you are pretty, for a White Man,” she says teasingly. Her fingers trace his brow, his jawline, even the tip of his chin. She seems to be avoiding his plush mouth, even though her gaze keeps dropping there. Dean pretends to frown. “Sweetheart, that’s not the way you talk about a man,” he says. Her brows raise. “No?” “Handsome. Strong. Toothsome, if you will,” he says, enjoying the way she begins to blush. “That’s what you wanna call a man."

I'm cackling. I love Mila so much. The sass, the teasing. Oh goodness they're so cute and I am so scared that there's going to be a last minute perilous situation and somebody is gonna die.

“It’ll be faster to dry our clothes if we’re not wearing ‘em,” Dean rumbles. His voice is deep with desire. He presses kisses along the side of her jaw, behind her ear, down her neck and shoulder. He earns her pleased hum, her heavier breaths, and her fingers once again in his hair.

Excuse me sir? SIR?! You know... he's right Mila. You should listen to your future husband.

Also him respecting her when she said that she doesn't have sex before marriage is just so HONORABLE AND WORTHY and why can't there be men that respectful all the time? Dean Winchester is really just ruining other men for me everywhere. 😭

She will bring him home to her tribe, and she will explain. If they still don’t welcome him, then she prays for the strength to keep to her honor. Because now, she begins to realize… Her heart has already chosen.

Girl it's chosen correctly. No remorse. No regret. Please oh my word let them both live at the end of this fic. 🙏🏻

He grunts in acknowledgement, but he turns on his heels and storms out of the tipi. Her mother comes forward next. She examines Dean from all angles. She takes his face in her hand, somewhat squishing his cheeks, so she can look deeply into his startled eyes.

So... the face squishing is a family trait I see. But man, Dean standing there while a random lady just squishing his face while his eyes are wide in horror is so funny to me.

“Sweetheart,” Dean says, cupping her cheek. Even with the hammering of his heart, he grins. “I’m pretty sure that’s where this was going anyway.”

AWW YEAH IT WAS GOING THAT WAY! lol

“Do you regret?” she whispers, reaching up to touch his chin with two slender fingers. “Do you regret helping me?” Dean considers her question. He knows he’ll carry his family in his heart until the day he dies. His brother, his mother, the memory of his father. Benny and Cas, even Jack, and so many others. It’s already a heavy burden, but he had always been prepared to lose his life on the battlefield, in service of his country. At least this way, he gains a new life.  “No. Never did,” Dean replies. “Not even once.”

This bit is so good. It's so true and honest and a little heart breaking, but it's such a wonderful thing for them to talk about, because Mila knows that he's thrown away his life to save hers. And it's so wonderful that he's able to give her that confirmation and reassurance that he doesn't regret the choice he made. Because it was the right choice, the -AHEM- Honorable Choice lol 😂

“If I’m your husband now, that means I get all of you,” he says with a grin. She gazes up at him, both in blushing amusement and affection. “All of me,” Mila repeats. She takes his face in her hands and brings him closer, until her lips are a whisper from his. “Then I want all of you.” 

Oh this chapter was so good my sweet friend! I'm a little sad to see that it's ending, but it was so wonderfully written and neither of them died. I was really scared about that 😅. AND it ended with a wedding (sort of?). Now little Elijah can run around the camp helping his mother and learn how to break in horses with his father. ❤️

The Honorable Choice - Part 3

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC 

Summary: June 1872. Captain Dean Winchester of the U.S. Cavalry is tasked with one job: break a wild mustang. He just didn’t expect the woman who infiltrates his camp, intent on freeing her tribe’s horse.

AN: The last chapter! Hold on, it's about to get bumpy...

Disclaimer: I got inspired after a recent rewatch of Spirit: The Stallion of the Cimarron (literally a perfect movie), as well as having Yellowstone in the back of my brain. I’ve done extensive research for this one, both on the American Indian Lakota tribe, and on American history during this time in the late 1800s (AKA: the Old West, during the American Indian Wars and the Sioux Wars). Of course, one of my main goals is to avoid inaccuracies, both historical and cultural.

**Pronunciation guide at the end!

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: @jacklesversebingo Western AU

Song Inspo: The Spirit Soundtrack

Word Count: 5.7K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Protective Dean, survival situations, smut (mutual masturbation, fingering, and more), angst, and fluff.

🐎 Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

🎙️ Listen to the podfic version here!

Part 3: Worthy

They travel together for two more days. Dean isn’t really a talkative man, but inevitably, he finds himself speaking to fill the comfortable stretches of quiet plodding across the grasslands.

He tells her about growing up on his family’s farm, where his father was firm but fair, and a larger-than-life presence when Sam and Dean were kids. His mother though, she was the only one who could ever go toe to toe with John Winchester and win.

“She tamed him,” Mila remarks with a smile. Dean’s lips quirk in response.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he chuckles, “but he knew he couldn’t pull a whole lot of shit with Mom. She’s a real pistol when she’s gotta be.”

Talking about them makes his heart heavy and sobers his mood, so he deflects with other stories, other chapters of his life. 

He talks about going through basic training alongside Benny Lafitte. As privates, Dean pranked his friend by filling his lumpy old pillow with raw eggs and chicken feathers. In retaliation, Benny swapped Dean’s morning coffee with actual dirt and hot water. Their boyish games escalated until they were nearly kicked out of the military.

Dean managed to smooth things over though. He’s always had a way of charming people, even the gruff Sergeant Major, Bobby Singer.

Mila admits that she and her cousin Šóta used to sneak out of the village when they were younger. He taught her how to climb trees, how to fight and protect herself, and how to ride a horse astride, like a man. He was the only one who ever encouraged her to have the “free mind” her mother dreamed about.

The more she confides in him, her eyes sparking with life and her hands gesticulating along with her words, the more Dean listens.  

On the third day, it’s nearing mid-afternoon when Dean slows Baby to a stop. After miles and miles of forest and grassland covered, they’ve finally approached a large, wide river. Mila stops beside him.

“My tribe lives beyond the river,” she says, “but the current is strong now.”

Dean looks over at her. A question he hasn’t wanted to ask crops back up. He feels that now is the time to voice it.

“Yeah, about that…I’m thinking your tribe doesn’t take very well to outsiders,” he says. “White men in particular.”

Mila presses her lips together. He can tell she’s been thinking the same thing, but she turns to him with a determined set to her features.

“I will protect you,” she says.

Dean frowns. He doesn’t like the sound of that. On one hand, it warms him that she seems to really mean it. On the other hand, he doesn’t want to know what it’ll take for her to protect him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks.

She turns her face away and doesn’t seem to want to answer at first.

“Mila…”

“The Chief is my uncle,” she says at last. “He will listen to me.”

Dean blinks. Well, that changes things…maybe.

He’s still not convinced, but at this point, he really doesn’t have many options. It’s either take his chances with her tribe, or become a vagabond. He’s not sure how long he could survive in wilds of the West alone, especially while trying to dodge military patrols.

In the past three days, it’s taken Dean all that time to come to terms with a simple fact. He’ll likely never see his brother again, or his mother. It’s a pain that cuts into him deeply, down to his bones. It stings behind his eyes.

But if he only has two choices, then he at least wants to make sure Mila gets home safely…even if that means he won’t be.

He’s come this far. If his career is worth the price of what he feels is right, then his life is worth it too.

With that decision made, Dean expels a long, somewhat faltering breath. He locks away the rest of his uncertainty, his apprehension, and even his grief. He hides deep inside, where she won’t see it. 

“All right, the current doesn’t look too bad over here,” he says, pointing to farther north along the river. “The horses can make it.”

Mila nods in agreement. She still looks uneasy, though she tries to hide it too. She ventures ahead into the river. Dean follows close behind.

The water is shallow at first, but it all too quickly gets deeper. The horses plod over the river stones and vegetation under the surface, and the humans are led deeper, until they’re submerged into the water up to their waists.

It’s good that Mila rides that giant mustang; if she were on a mare, like Dean, she’d already be sunk up to her shoulders. Baby’s a big girl, to be sure, but Mila is nearly a foot shorter than him, with a smaller frame. He watches her carefully as she makes her way ahead of him.

That’s why he’s able to act fast when Mato slips, dunking Mila under the water. She gasps and tries to cling onto him, but the current is fierce. It pushes Mato down the river no matter how much he scrambles and kicks at the water, braying wildly in distress.

Shit! Dean tugs sharply at Baby’s reigns and strives to catch up to them. He grabs Mato’s reigns and pulls and pulls, until he and Baby are able to drag him to the other side of the river where he can get a foothold with his hooves.

Mila is starting to fall off his back. She struggles to cling on while the river pushes at her, with her wet hair falling in her eyes. Dean leans back as far as he can to try and pull her up.

“It’s okay, I’ve gotcha,” he calls out, even though his heart hammers with alarm.

She reaches out for his hand in turn. Just as his fingers begin to close over hers, a wave from the current crashes into her. A short scream tears from her throat after she loses her grip on Mato’s neck. Without her weight, he’s able to pull himself back up onto the bank along with Baby.

Damn it! Gut-wrenching alarm spears Dean into action. He leaps down from Baby and removes his gloves, his hat, and his uniform jacket, so he can dive into the water. Thank God he’s a strong swimmer.

Mila seems to be too. She carves through the water against the current the best she can and tries to keep her head above the waves, but Dean can see it’s a losing battle. He manages to grab hold of her arm, and then wraps an arm around her waist to keep her close. Both of them work together to try and cling to any passing rock or low-hanging vine as the current sweeps them out toward an ultimate end.

A waterfall.

Of course. Goddamn it. Dean doesn’t know how steep it is on the other side, and he doesn’t want to know. All he’s trying to do is keep himself and Mila above the water.

She hooks her hand around a sharp rock. It bites into her hand, making her cry out, but she clings to it for all she’s worth. She holds onto Dean just as tightly, even though the current wants to take him. She tries to pull him closer, close enough for him to get a hold on the rock as well.

This time, it’s Dean who loses his footing. The rocks slip beneath the soles of his feet when he attempts to gain some leverage.

A shout of surprise escapes from him when he fails, and it gets swallowed up by water rushing down his throat.

“Dean!” Mila yells, for the first time using his name. The last thing he registers is the fear in her eyes—afraid for him.

The river takes him over the edge of the abyss, and he falls.

He never expected that he would get to open his eyes again, let alone to the sight that greets him. Mila’s familiar face, framed by the dark, drying waves of her hair, is bright with firelight. It dances in orange-gold across her features. Her eyes are warm like rich molasses when she looks down and finds him awake.

She smiles in relief.

He realizes that he’s lying on soft grass with his head pillowed in her lap. She’s taken off his boots and half of his white undershirt; she tore one of his sleeves to wrap around a mercifully shallow gash in his shoulder.

The horses are drinking from the river nearby, with a pile of apples split between them. There’s a fish roasted over the fire, but all Dean cares about is the way her fingers are running through his hair. She sings a soft song under her breath while she passes her other hand over his injured arm without touching it.

He doesn’t understand the words, but he thinks she might be trying to heal him. He’s heard plenty of stories about the Sioux people, most he’s taken with a grain of salt. He does remember Cas saying that their healers are different from doctors.  

Dean’s never given their hoodoo much thought, but right about now, he hopes it works.

“Mornin’,” he croaks.

Mila’s relieved face becomes touched with amusement.

“It’s night,” she says. “You slept for a long time.”

Dean wants to sit up and take an inventory of his injuries, but he can’t make his body move just yet. He’s too tired and bruised. He also likes being in her arms. He likes her fingers in his hair, now moving to his cheek. He sighs through his nose in contentment as her thumb drifts over his overgrown stubble. 

“Thank you,” she says. Emotion is thick in her voice.

Dean meets her eyes again, and he smiles. He raises the back of his hand to touch her smooth cheek, gently. He lets his fingers glide across her tan skin, down the column of her neck. Her breath hitches.

She takes his calloused hand in her slender one. Her long hair falls like a curtain over her shoulder, almost like it’s shielding them from whatever is left to come for them beyond the forest. Dean wraps an ebony strand around his finger, just to feel it fall loosely again.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” he says.

Mila graces him with another smile from her lips. He wants to know what they taste like.

“I guess you are pretty, for a White Man,” she says teasingly.

Her fingers trace his brow, his jawline, even the tip of his chin. She seems to be avoiding his plush mouth, even though her gaze keeps dropping there. Dean pretends to frown.

“Sweetheart, that’s not the way you talk about a man,” he says.

Her brows raise. “No?”

“Handsome. Strong. Toothsome, if you will,” he says, enjoying the way she begins to blush. “That’s what you wanna call a man.”

“Toothsome. I don’t know this word,” she admits. “Am I supposed to eat you?”

Dean resists the urge to say the first incorrigible thing that pops into his head. Instead, his body shakes with laughter.

It’s difficult at first, all his muscles pulling at him in protest, but he raises himself into a sitting position. He cups Mila’s cheek, dragging his thumb across her lower lip. Her lashes are dark and long. They move when she looks up at him. He knows the look in her eyes, wanting, desiring, but also unsure of what she should allow him.

Dean leans in slowly, giving her time to decide.

She tilts her face up to his. He noses at her cheek, his eyes falling closed along with hers.

He finds her lips with his own on instinct and feeling alone. Soft and tender movements, testing, asking.

She answers him. Her fingers tangle in the front of his tattered shirt as her lips begin to move against his. Dean wraps an arm around her waist and gathers her against his chest. His other hand glides down her arm, down her side and along every soft curve. Her clothes are still damp, and so are his.

“It’ll be faster to dry our clothes if we’re not wearing ‘em,” Dean rumbles. His voice is deep with desire. He presses kisses along the side of her jaw, behind her ear, down her neck and shoulder. He earns her pleased hum, her heavier breaths, and her fingers once again in his hair.

“I can’t,” she gasps. She says something in her native tongue, too fast for Dean to even register. He slows down so he can meet her eyes.

“What was that?” he asks. Her face falls, and she starts to trip over her words.

“I am not…how you say, married. I have to be…”

Dean smiles ruefully, sliding a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Chaste?” he offers. She nods, her brows furrowed. Her grip on his shirt tightens.

“Yes,” she says. “In the eyes of my people, it is…”

“I get it,” Dean says. When she still seems conflicted, he presses a kiss to her forehead. 

“Really, I understand,” he says.

His problem is that he stares into her eyes too long, and at her kiss-swollen lips. He dives back in for another taste.

This time, he’s a little less gentlemanly than he promised. His tongue sweeps along her lower lip, begging entrance. She makes a sound of surprise, but she opens up to him. Her gentle hands slide up his chest to hold his face, and her thumbs stroke his cheeks. He holds one of her wrists to keep her there as his tongue dances with hers. She tastes like the river, and like salty tears.

Had she cried for him? How long did she sit with his body, waiting to see if he would wake up?

Despite those worrying thoughts, Dean knows this feels right. More right than he’s ever felt.

It’s harder than he might’ve imagined, but he still pulls away, before he won’t be able to stop himself. Mila pants for breath. She seems to feel she should let him go, but also doesn’t show any sign of wanting to. Smiling, Dean caresses her cheek one more time before he turns to the fish she roasted.

“This looks good,” he says, clearing his throat. “What kinda fish is this?”

With a sigh, she attempts to steady herself and moves to join him by the fire.

That night, Mila dreams.

She dreams of wings, white and beautiful. She hears the cry of an eagle before she sees his great wingspan take off in flight. He soon finds his mate, and they dance together in the sky. 

When she wakes, the fire has gone out and it’s still dark in the night. It takes her a moment to realize that she’s safe. Finally safe.

And she’s lying securely in Dean’s arms.

She’s no longer conflicted when she stares up at his face.

She will bring him home to her tribe, and she will explain. If they still don’t welcome him, then she prays for the strength to keep to her honor. Because now, she begins to realize…

Her heart has already chosen.

“Kimmímila, what have you done?” her uncle asks in the language of their people.

He is Tahatan, Chief of their tribe.

Mila’s father, Chatan, and her cousin Šóta have tied Dean Winchester to a post in the center of the Chief’s large tipi. Dean kneels with his head bowed in respect, even though he keeps sneaking looks at Mila to try and gauge what’s happening. He doesn’t understand a word of any of it.

“You’ve brought this outsider into our village, this White Man!” Tahatan shouts, his voice deep and resounding.

Mila steps forward, despite her mother’s embarrassment and her father trying to grab her shoulder. For the second time in her life, she defies her father for what she believes is right. The first was to rescue a member of their tribe—because even a horse’s spirit should not be broken by greed.

“Uncle, I’ve told you the story, though you don’t want to believe it,” she says. “Dean Winchester saved me when he could have killed me, or worse. He defied his own people. He is dead to his own people, for me, and because of me. You may think they lack all honor, but this man is different.”

She looks over at Dean, and he meets her gaze. He wears an anxious frown as he looks between her and the chief, but she has a feeling that his fear is for her, not for himself.

She kneels beside him, then looks up at her uncle with all the stubbornness she’s ever possessed in her life. She feels it’s led her to exactly this moment.

“And we are one,” she says. Nerves trill up her spine as she says it. She predicts the way shock falls over the room. The way her father curses out loud, angry. The way her mother covers her mouth in dismay. The way the Chief takes a step back, tilting his head at his niece.

“You would take it that far?” he asks.

Her face doesn’t change. “It’s already done.”

Tahatan is beside himself, both angry and perplexed. He goes back to his chair of wicker and wood that lies centered in the room. He drops heavily into it. After a long while, in which he thinks in silence…he releases a heavy sigh. He gestures for his brother and his son to untie Dean. The men do so, but they don’t let him go free. They force him to stand and bring him forward to kneel again before the Chief.

“Dean Winchester,” Tahatan says.

“Yes, sir,” Dean replies.

“You prove yourself to be a man with honor,” he says in English. “Kimmímila has chosen you. She claims you have chosen her in return. Do you deny this?”

Dean glances over at her. She bites the inside of her lip, a bit worried about how he’ll react. She’s not sure he completely understands what Tahatan is telling him, but he nods, regardless.

“No, sir. I don’t deny it,” Dean says.

“Then, you will be allowed to stay, and live among us,” Tahatan declares. "We will see for ourselves what you are. We will see if you are worthy."

Dean gives a nod, crossed with a bow of some kind. He obviously isn’t sure of what he’s supposed to do, but he does say thank you. Mila wraps her hands around his uninjured arm and helps him to his feet. She smiles at him to let him know that the worst is over. He blows out a breath in relief.

“Is that it?” he whispers. He expected more of a thrashing, if he’s honest.

“Almost,” she replies. The two of them stop short before her father, Chatan.

Dean straightens up and holds out his hand. “Sir.”

Chatan glances down at the white hand extended toward him. His gaze raises back up to Dean. 

He grunts in acknowledgement, but he turns on his heels and storms out of the tipi. Her mother comes forward next. She examines Dean from all angles. She takes his face in her hand, somewhat squishing his cheeks, so she can look deeply into his startled eyes.

She seems satisfied by what she finds, and she lets him go. Afterward, she takes Mila’s hand and heaves a deep sigh.

She kisses her daughter’s hand and says nothing else, leaving them to find her husband and calm him down.

Dean turns to Mila with a look that says, please tell me that’s it.

She smiles more genuinely.

“Come,” she says.

She leads him by the hand out of the Chief’s tipi and through the village. Dean takes in the rows of other tall, cone-like structures covered in buffalo skin, as well as all the faces that turn to stare at him in a mix of curiosity, wariness, and even fear. Some of them whisper to each other, taking their children by the hand and keeping them close.

Dean’s still on guard himself, even when Mila takes him to a smaller tipi. It’s been closed up for a while now, by the look of it. Weeds have grown right outside the entrance. 

“This one’s yours?” Dean asks.

She pauses, giving him another small smile. “Ours.”

Dean raises a brow. Ours. Really?

She opens the flap in the front and beckons him inside. There’s still enough daylight to shine through the outer lining. Inside, his gaze flits over the old pile of stones in the center for heating, clothes folded in the corner, some cooking pots and utensils, paintings on wood and clay, and a couple of beaded decorations. Buffalo skin bedding is laid out on the other side with a couple of soft looking furs. 

Son of a gun. Dean doesn’t even blink as he processes it all. He’s in a damn tipi. This is really about to become his life.

Shaking his head a little, he forces himself to focus on Mila. She’s his anchor, and she seems to sense that he’s reeling. She guides him to sit beside her on the bedding, holding his hands in hers. After a moment, he reaches up to tuck a curling strand of hair behind her ear.

“You didn’t get in too much trouble because of me, did you?” he asks.

She shakes her head. “No. My father and uncle are very similar. Strong to anger, but it is quick to run out. At least with me.”

Dean thinks he understands. Short fuse, quick fizzle.

“There is just…one thing,” Mila says. Her eyes fall away from his, like she’s embarrassed. He squeezes her hands.

“What?” he asks, his brows furrowing. It gets her to look at him again, but she seems worried to tell him.

“To convince my uncle to let you stay, I told them that we…” she trails, trying to find the right words in English. “That we are married.”

Dean’s brows raise high. His heart trips up faster. Okay, “ours” makes a lot more sense now.

“I am sorry,” she says quietly. “I didn’t want you hurt—”

“Sweetheart,” Dean says, cupping her cheek. Even with the hammering of his heart, he grins. “I’m pretty sure that’s where this was going anyway.”

In fact, this is a best-case scenario, as far as he’s concerned. He leans in to kiss her, and it doesn’t take long at all for her to sigh in relief, melting against him.

“We’re married, huh?” he asks. “No ceremony? No white dress?”

“We are bonded,” she replies, nodding as she meets every one of his kisses. “Or, we will be.”

She tugs him closer and revels in the feeling of his hands beginning to roam her body, sliding down her waist, her hips and thighs.

“Guess that means we have to seal the deal,” he grins. His lips drift away from hers to burn a familiar path across her cheek. He takes to nibbling her ear, making her flinch and laugh as it tickles.

“Seal-the-deal. What does that mean?” she asks.

Dean chuckles lowly in her ear. “Oh, I think you know.”

He guides her onto her back, over the comfortable mess of furs. He wants to take his time exploring every inch of soft, tan skin, but he first sweeps her hair away from her eyes, the back of his hand brushing against her cheek. She smiles up at him softly.

“Do you regret?” she whispers, reaching up to touch his chin with two slender fingers. “Do you regret helping me?”

Dean considers her question. He knows he’ll carry his family in his heart until the day he dies. His brother, his mother, the memory of his father. Benny and Cas, even Jack, and so many others.

It’s already a heavy burden, but he had always been prepared to lose his life on the battlefield, in service of his country. At least this way, he gains a new life. 

“No. Never did,” Dean replies. “Not even once.”

He bows his head toward hers, and he proves it to her. His lips capture hers, fueled by passion and wanting. Mila’s hands slide over his shoulders and down his back. Maybe without her realizing it, she implores him to let go of the weight heaped on his shoulders.

When he begins to bunch up the hem of her dress, she sits up to help guide his hands. Her quickening breaths mesh with his as the first layer of clothing drops beside the bedding. His tattered shirt joins her dress, along with pants and shoes and boots, until all that’s left is skin against warm, bare skin. He lays on his side right beside her and explores wherever she lets him begin.  

“Beautiful,” Dean murmurs, as his lips follow the column of her neck, down between her breasts. Her breaths rise to meet him, especially when he begins to toy with a dark, pebbled nipple. Her fingers slip through his hair, and his name falls from her lips. He palms one breast while kissing and gently teasing the other, exploring sensitive flesh and grazing her sensitive fleshwith his teeth.

“No man’s ever touched you?” he asks, despite knowing the answer.

She shakes her head, her fingers gripping his hair tighter as his lips and tongue move against her skin.

“No,” Mila gasps a reply. Her hand slides down the back of his neck, and the more he teases her, her nails soon create faint red lines down his back, her thighs squeezing together. She feels a throbbing ache at the very center of her. Despite her inexperience with men, she knows what it means, and she knows what she wants.

Dean’s mouth drags away from her breast. He pulls back so he can meet her eyes. A smile curves his lips, and he takes one of her hands from his shoulders. 

“Have you ever touched yourself?” he asks. He guides her hand down her body, brushing over a wet, sensitive nipple, down her stomach, and between her legs. This time, Mila nods in answer. She stares up at Dean with eyes like molten honey. He leans in to kiss her neck.

“Show me,” he says.

She shudders at the depths in his voice. It increases the flood of wetness she already feels, even before she slips two fingers between the folds of her sex. She gathers some of that slick and circles it over the source of her pleasure, the small nub above her entrance.

Dean takes his hardened length in his hand. While she writhes by her own hand, he drinks her in with his eyes. A soft groan falls from his lips as he pumps himself a few times, sliding a thumb across the weeping head of his cock.

He can’t be a spectator for long though. He nips tantalizingly at her neck, creating a zing of added sensation across her skin. She whimpers, though she tries to stifle it, her knee bending further.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Dean says. “Let me hear you.”

He releases himself and replaces her hand with his own. He slips two long fingers inside her drenched entrance, earning a gasping moan from her. She latches onto his shoulders and buries her face into his neck. She whispers fervent things he doesn’t understand, but it only spurs him on.

His thumb circles insistently over her clit as his fingers pulse inside her. Her hips buck a needy rhythm against his hand, until her thighs begin to shake, and her inner walls squeeze even tighter around his fingers.

“Shit, that’s it, baby,” he pants gruffly against her cheek. “Let go for me.”

Warmth snaps and floods from her throbbing core, and she cries out near his ear, her nails biting into his skin. Her release coats his fingers.

Mila drops her head back against the furs underneath her. Her chest rises and falls quickly while she tries to catch her breath, her eyes tightly shut. Dean surprises her with a soft kiss.

“Mila,” he prods. He wants to see her eyes again, so pretty and wanton when she comes. He veers away from her lips to kiss her cheek, and then the other side of her neck. “Let me see you, sweetheart.”

She huffs a small laugh. Opening her eyes, she gestures to her bare body. “This is not enough?”

Dean’s lips tug at a smile. He shakes his head. “As a matter of fact, no.”

He shifts over her, finding his place between the cradle of her thighs. His elbows come to rest on either side of her head. She feels trapped by his body, even as she welcomes his weight and the feeling of his arousal, long and heavy and hard, trapped between their bodies. This man fills every corner of her world in this moment.

“If I’m your husband now, that means I get all of you,” he says with a grin. She gazes up at him, both in blushing amusement and affection.

“All of me,” Mila repeats. She takes his face in her hands and brings him closer, until her lips are a whisper from his. “Then I want all of you.” 

Dean chuckles. “You sure about that?”

She smiles in satisfaction, and her lips claim him this time. One kiss turns into many, each one mounting in passion and desire. Dean groans into her when she begins to touch him. Her hands are soft, but direct in their seeking; they caress his shoulders, run down his chest and stomach, and then, more tentatively explore the now painfully hard length of him pressing against her.

He makes a grateful sound of pleasure when her hand wraps around his cock, squeezing gently. His fingers bury themselves in her hair.

“I want all of you,” she says, this time a plea and a demand all at once as she strokes him.

Dean nods in agreement. He’s come this far. He can do that for her too.

He spreads her thighs a bit wider and encourages her to adjust the angle of her hips for him. His hand glides down her plush thigh and gets a healthy grip. Then he slides his hand under hers and guides his cock through her folds, first just holding himself at her warm, wet entrance.

He manages to wait for a second, in order to meet her gaze. She’s already holding onto his arms tightly, like he’s become her anchor. Her thighs wrap around his hips and beckon him closer.

Slowly, he pushes inside. He takes care in how he works her open. She winces at the sting of his girth stretching her, but his fingers once again massage her clit, stroking her arousal back into a keening flame. He swallows her gasps and moans as he bottoms out inside her, fully sheathed. Tears prick at her eyes, but not from pain.

Mila’s dream flashes like a waking vision behind her eyes. Wings take flight, along with the gleam of a golden beak and a sharp eye.

She blinks, and the image disappears. She’s left with the man who has become hers, making love to her with every stroke of him deep inside her. She presses grateful kisses across his neck and shoulder, wherever she can reach while she clings to his strong arms.

The thick head of him brushes a sensitive place over and over, one that tightens the coil in her lower belly and makes her core tremble again with warmth, until her body convulses against him, pulsing in pleasure, gripping him tight from the inside. Mila’s fingers clench in his hair just as tightly as her release hits her in a powerful wave; even her voice becomes lost to it.

Gritting his teeth, Dean grips the soft flesh of her hip and chases his own end. The way her inner walls choke his cock, he has no choice but to come hot inside her, his spend mixing with her own release. A strangled shout tears from his throat.

He has to brace himself before he crushes her. With his forearms resting on either side of her head, he lowers his forehead against hers. Her legs slip from where they’ve been tightly molded to his hips, her feet meeting the floor. Eventually he slips out of her. He watches his seed drip out and create a mess on the dark furs. The sight of it satisfies something primal deep inside him.

Later he’ll ask her about washing up (and about supper), but for now, he just turns onto his back beside her. She inches toward him, and he raises an arm so she can splay out against his side. They both lay there for a moment in the quiet, just catching their breath together. It marks the end of a long journey, and yet, the start of one too.

Mila turns to raise onto her elbow. She reaches over to wipe the sweat from his brow in a tender touch. Dean smiles up at her. He takes her hand and presses a kiss into her palm.

“I could get used to this,” he says.

Her eyes widen in surprise, but then she laughs softly. “Yes.”

Her hand moves down to his chest, over his heart. She sobers as she considers her people, and how much trust has yet to be bridged—not only her own father and uncle, but the entire tribe. When she led him through the village, they called him wašíču.

Fat-taker. Greedy White. Not one of us.

“It will be hard for you here,” Mila says. She worries it will be too hard for Dean.  

He just squeezes her hand, earning her attention through tumultuous thoughts.

“I’m not afraid of a little hard work,” Dean replies. His usual confident charm is infused in his smile, but she has a feeling he’s just trying to reassure her.

Sensing she’s not convinced, Dean reaches up to hold her cheek, guiding her to look at him and not the floor.

“Listen. I made my choice, and I’m sticking it out, come hell or high water,” he says.

Mila’s brows knit together. “Hell-or-high… What does that mean?”

Dean sits up on his elbow along with her. He takes her chin between his fingers and meets her gaze.

“It means if you want me, you’ve got me. The rest, we’ll figure out as we go along,” he says.

A smile slowly lightens Mila’s face. She tilts her chin up to meet him with a kiss.

“I will be with you,” she says. It’s a promise.

Dean smiles back.

“Good,” he says. “Because that’s just about all I need.”

AN: There we have it, friends. 💜 I really, truly hope you enjoyed this mini series! To be honest, I have more ideas for this little world (like how Dean might try to assimilate into this culture), but I'll leave it to you guys to let me know if that's something you'd be interested in reading.

Until then, I would love to know what you thought of this chapter! 

Pronunciation Guide:

Šóta ("sho-tah") Chatan ("chat-tan") Tahatan ("ta-hat-tann") Wašíču ("wash-ee-jew")

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[friendlycursedspaceotter]

So, I just had the following realization: 1) Fencing jackets and pants are made out of white cotton twill. 2) Said jackets are usually several hundred dollars. 3) In the US, where I live, Joann Fabrics (a big box fabric and craft store) sells the twill for the jackets at about $13 a yard, less if it's on sale. 4) The pattern for a fencing jacket is just a slightly more complicated side zip moto jacket. And there are *quite* a few available. Is the pattern itself from an Etsy cosplay-focused site? Yes. Do I care? No. 5) I have a sewing machine.'

Therefore, I can just make my own gear for about 40 bucks. Am I going to attempt the lame, the glove, or the helmet? NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT. Am I also going to investigate my fabric options first to see how close they are? Yes. Am I going to recommend that you do this? No. Not until I risk myself for this. Is this also probably going to be another reason I do epee? Yeah.

[pigeonriot]

Happy Anniversary to Not Me episode 1! anyways, have some chaotic screencaps from it:

[serpentface]

There are three hyaenids found within the Imperial Wardi region- the hisippate, the highland hyena (kyniche na chennandi), and the scrub hyena (kyniche). (None are actually related to the king hyena).

The hisippate (name is close in meaning to 'stinking one', sometimes instead called '(wild) ant-dog' ('kulichin-wannaukoma')) is very distantly related to the other two. They are small, mostly solitary animals that sleep in burrows during the day and emerge to hunt at night. They are almost exclusively insectivorous, and their diet consists primarily of termites and ants that are lapped up with a long, strong tongue. The hisippate has a wide range, with their populations being highest in grassland and savanna regions with a high density of termites.

They are named for their foul smelling anal gland secretions, which are used to mark their territory and can be sprayed short distances to repel predators. Their highly visible black and white coat (which is erected in threat display) indicates them as not worth the trouble of eating. This is partly an honest advertisement of its chemical defenses, but may function as mimicry of a substantially more threatening native badger that can spray with great accuracy at distances of up to 10 feet (while the spray of the hitsippate is untargeted and only potent within a meter of the body).

The highland and scrub hyenas are the most numerous and successful predators within the region, with their populations having exploded in the past several centuries with the decline of the Wardi lion. Both live in matriarchal clan structures with strict dominance hierarchies, maintained not by individual size and strength but by highly complex networks of coalitions. All members of a clan can reproduce, and young inherit rank positions just beneath that of their mothers. Most males eventually disperse, entering into new clans at the very bottom of their hierarchy. They exhibit no obvious sexual dimorphism, and females often can only be differentiated from males by the shape of their pseudopenis.

The scrub hyena is most widely distributed and can be found throughout most of the region in a variety of lowland habitats, faring best in savannah and open grassland with high populations of grazing ungulates. This species is distinguished by well-defined spots and stripes and a sparse mane, though their coloration varies by individual and population, ranging from reddish to pale white-brown. Their clans can number upwards of a hundred individuals in the most prey-dense territories, though most are smaller.

The highland hyena is unique to the northwest of the region. As the name suggests, they have specialized into surviving in higher altitude climes, but can also be found in the remaining pockets of surrounding forest (and once had a much larger range across the former northern forests). Their spotting is often less visible than their lowland relatives, though their base coloration is similarly variable. Their clan sizes are substantially smaller than the scrub hyena, as they inhabit regions with much lower prey densities.

Both are closely related (whether they are subspecies or separate species would be subject of debate by taxonomists) and can produce viable young. Heavily hybridized populations are common where their ranges overlap. Scrub hyenas appear to breed more readily with dispersing male highland hyenas than the reverse.

Hyenas occupy an overall minor space in most of the Wardi cultural sphere. They are noted negatively as man/corpse eaters, but are generally regarded as intelligent and powerful predators and avoid the stigma attached to man-eating scavengers. In most cases they are not ascribed much significance in comparison to the venerated lion or the massive and intimidating king-hyena, mostly being relegated to a threat to livestock and potential danger to lone travelers.

Many urban areas in the province of Godsmouth (including the outer unwalled portions of the eponymous city) have unique practices of not only tolerating but actively inviting scrub hyenas into urban spaces. These urban hyena populations have been genetically semi-isolated from their wilder counterparts for several centuries. Rather than hunting large prey, they fill similar roles to feral dogs in the urban landscape as cleaners of refuse and killers of pests, and benefit from their species being culturally regarded as powerful predators rather than lowly scavengers. They notably predate on the considerably more reviled feral dogs, and keep their populations much lower than other parts of the region. Their role is regarded as both a physically and spiritually cleansing force, with their presence neutralizing polluting elements (while not being sacred in of itself).

The Godsmouth hyenas show little fear of humans compared to their wild relatives, though their activity peaks at nighttime hours to avoid close contact. They are sometimes raised from cubs to be fully tamed (though are not truly domesticated) and used as guards or to assist in hunting (Godsmouth's designated dog hunters notably have traditions of keeping hyenas). This practice is essentially exclusive to the province of Godsmouth- hyenas rarely establish semi-urban populations in other parts of the region, and those who do have considerably greater fear of humans, usually sneaking in under the cover of night to feed on scraps and fleeing from encounters.

The status of hyenas varies in the other groups native to the region. For example:

Hyenas have a generally favorable status to the Cholemdinae, who have traditionally reckoned them as highest among predators, noting their stamina and intelligence. Body parts of hyenas are ascribed the ability to increase the wearer's stamina, and amulets carved from hyena bones are often worn while persistence hunting. Children born while hyenas are heard crying are considered to be strong and very likely to survive infancy (and will often be given names referencing the animals). The apparent androgyny of hyenas is allegorically attributed to the creation story- the first beings were dual-sexed, and split into male and female halves as part of their punishment for the theft of fire from the sun. The hyena escaped this punishment by digging into the underworld to hide and getting only its once long, luxurious tail chopped off (which was sticking out from the hole).

((TANGENT: The South Wardi have more recent common cultural ancestry to the Cholemdinae than to most of the other groups assimilated into the collective Wardi nationality. The notion of hyenas once having long, flowing tails that got chopped off in some mishap still appears in South Wardi animal folktales))

They have a largely disfavorable reputation to the Hill Tribes, and are generally regarded as gluttonous and brutish in nature. The Highlands have a naturally lower density of wild ungulates, made far lower by most grazing pasture being occupied by livestock. This causes hyenas (and other large predators) to more frequently predate on domestic animals, and thus places them directly in conflict with herders (and also makes them common rabies vectors). They are readily culled when found in proximity to villages. Hyena pelts are generally considered worthless, and culled hyenas will often be fed whole to livestock guardian dogs and their pups in hopes of teaching them to be fearless towards the predators. Were-hyenas appear in folklore- among the southwestern Hill Tribes they are most commonly the accursed spirits of cannibals, while in the northeast they are malicious witches who learned secret arts of transformation and take on these forms to wreak havoc upon their enemies.

[ms-demeanor]

IDK that I've ever put it in one post before, but here's the transplant speedrun.

1 - Valentines day 2021, he's admitted to the hospital. We take a pre-hospital selfie then I shave his head and he shaves his beard because he doesn't want to deal with hair at the hospital. Me and his mom drop him off; at that point you can only visit someone as they are actually dying and we're told that he's going to stay in the hospital until he gets a transplant or he dies, and if he's rejected as a transplant recipient he'll receive palliative care in this hospital.

2 - First week of March, they allow patients to have one screened visitor; this is our first visit - I take photos in the hospital to show his mom because at this point he has a pump in his shoulder and it is difficult for him to move his arms to use his phone. He has also been confined to a bed since the week he arrived because he's on the ECMO machine, so he can't walk or move around, though they stand him up every once in a while. At one point one of the ecmo tubes pulls out of his femoral artery, which is Not! Great! He also needed a blood transfusion about every two days at that point, which worried the doctors because it increased his likelihood of rejecting. But he had been approved for transplant at that point!

The first thing he said to me on this visit was "look, I have abs" and then he showed me his abs because it turns out when you're really really dying of heart failure your body begins to eat itself.

3 - Now That's What I Call Jaundice (cardiac cirrhosis is liver failure as a result of heart failure and it's pretty much the big giant neon flashing sign of heart failure that says "hey you're fucking dying" so if you've got heart failure and your bilirubin number is off or the whites of your eyes are yellow please kick up a gigantic stink until they check your liver; large bastard's GP, who is my doctor, who I hate, saw his bloodwork with a very high bilirubin number a month before he was diagnosed with cardiac cirrhosis and wrote it off as a testing fluke fuck that guy)

4 - Don't let the sad face fool you, he's acting pathetic so that his mom will stop yelling about the fact that I'm bringing him cookies. He's allowed to have cookies. At that point he weighed 98kg and was outsourcing his heartbeat, he was allowed to eat whatever he wanted. (have i mentioned that I was moving us from Vegas to LA at this time? I was bringing him cookies because I'd baked hundreds of peanut butter cookies and other cookies to use up the flour, sugar, and peanut butter in the vegas house)

5 - Mid-march, he's got a match! He called me when I was in Vegas filling up the truck with another load and I drove right back and to the hospital. Once he went in for surgery I drove to his mom's house and crashed, then woke up and drove to our storage unit and unpacked the truck while I waited to hear from the doctors. I was unloading a bookcase when I got the call. (There wasn't any point in waiting alone in the hospital for sixteen hours; either he was going to make it or he wasn't and someone was going to have to unload the truck at some point. People have been weird about this, like I should have been sitting at his side all the time, but there was a two-hour daily limit for most visits and look i have sat in a waiting room while this dude had a thirteen hour surgery i do not need a repeat of that experience without the soothing balm of nicotine getting me through it; so unloading a truck it was)

6 - Two days after surgery and kind of mad about it. His chest hurt a lot (obviously) but, like, a lot a lot because they'd had to open him up for the bypass just two years earlier.

7 - First walk outside of his room after transplant in early April; he needed a LOT of PT because of how much muscle he'd lost. He lost sixty pounds in the hospital before the surgery, and only gained back about twenty while he was in there.

8 - A visit from the tiny doggo

9 - I come to visit and I've got a new phone with a portrait mode so he steals it and takes stupid pictures for a few minutes. Dude is bored and restless; this is in late april and he's feeling well enough to be moody. ETA: There is a jar of pickles in front of him because he'd been fluid limited for a long time and his salt levels were off and when he got to the hospital they were like "you need electrolytes and a lot of salt" and he was like "sweetheart can you please please please bring me delicious salty things" so I was bringing him jars of pickled mushrooms and garlic stuffed olives and just a huge number of pickles that he kept trying to share with the nurses. "Alli brought the mushrooms again; would you like a pickled mushroom? I have fancy toothpicks to share them with!"

10 - He comes home for the first time in early May; he ends up getting readmitted two more times because of complications before finally being released in early July. ETA: The second time he got readmitted it was for something that he wasn't at all worried about but that they needed to monitor for a couple weeks so he was *SO BORED* and actually feeling pretty okay; so at one point when I was leaving the parking garage at 8pm my car wouldn't start, I did some troubleshooting with the manual and the internet and didn't figure it out, so I called him and he tried to troubleshoot over the phone and got frustrated and was begging his nurses to let him come out to the parking structure to work on my car (they refused) - I ended up getting a tow and fixing it when I replaced the battery terminals.

Photos are all posted with his permission.

Also I dyed my hair purple between photos one and two because it's his favorite color. I also bought a blue dress, red tights, and yellow shoes to wear to visit him because he always teases me for wearing so much black.

I just love him a lot. It was a hard couple years there, but things are getting better.

[doberbutts]

beginning to really feel like the ubiquitous hatred of men IS inherently tied to racism. just look at the things people point to as why PoC are "scary" and it's usually because of a perceived proximity to "mannishness" and all that entails. it's getting harder and harder to not see a desire to protect the "fragile and feminine" as inherent to whiteness and white supremacy especially when taking into account how femininity is defined. like even setting aside how casting All Men as inherently dangerous or threatening will ultimately cast men of color and other marginalized men as these things, thus reducing their access to spaces, safety, resources, and rights. but i just can't convince myself that "all men are bad" isn't inherently rooted in racism itself, not just a consequence of racism because it might hit men of color as collateral

when you consider then also how in fundamentalist and evangelical christianity (and just christianity in general) male desire is seen as inherently evil and to be regarded with suspicion, the erection is the work of the devil, etc., and how core to white supremacist culture that christianity is... idk this isn't very coherent but i hope it makes some sense

i just really think systems of race require gender segregation to operate as they do and so any reinforcement of ANY gender segregation is going to ultimately further racist causes

Well, my belief is that all oppression circles back onto itself like a giant ouroboros. White supremacy, patriarchy, ableism, classism, all of these hook back together in both obvious and also very subtle ways. I was talking with a Jewish friend last night about how I don't think I've ever heard an antisemite speak that wasn't also antiblack. Including black antisemites. I don't think I've heard an antiblack person speak that also wasn't filled to the brim with sexism. I don't think I've heard a sexist person speak that wasn't also ableist. I don't think I've heard an ableist person speak who wasn't also classist. And I don't think I've ever heard a classist person speak who wasn't also antisemitic. They're all connected. Every single one. Most homophobes are deeply misogynistic, most misogynists are also transphobic, and so on.

I think this also hooks directly back into the theories of intersectionality and CRT, because for so long we have stagnated discussing how these are all completely separate and individual social phenomena when really most of the time where one stinks they all reek. These are all systems upon which society has built itself up in layers, and the reason it's so difficult to fix is because they are all hooked into each other and so you can't wiggle one piece free without toppling the whole tower. The tower still has to come down, but it's sure as hell going to put up a fight getting there.

[cosmicstarlatte]

You ARE The Father! (Obey Me!)

━━━━━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━━━━━

After getting back to the human world you realized you were pregnant. You decided to keep it a secret during your relationship. After having the baby/babies for a few weeks, you finally decide to tell your demon baby daddy.

»Characters: Demon bros // -> [Part 2: Dateables] Now available!

»Tags: Female reader/MC, Unplanned pregnancy, Humor/fluff, Bulleted Style Fic

»Note: Sorry it's kind of long. Also I imagine the babies all heavily resemble their dads. 🥺♡ I might make a part two with Diavolo and Barbatos but they will be short stories. Well, maybe. Lol

Lucifer:

"That's not funny."

Didn't believe you because how could you keep that sort of secret for months from him

You sent him a photo of you holding a very unamused baby boy with black hair and red eyes

The Avatar of Pride has fainted. I repeat, he has fainted

Didn't pack or say anything to his brothers once he woke up, he just bolted out the house to find a magic seal to travel to the human realm

Quickly let Diavolo know why he canceled their meeting whilst on the way to you

He arrived disheveled, man was sweating lol

Anyway he immediately reached for his child and cradled him

His baby's horns and wings popped out!

Barely wanted to talk to you at first, you wounded his pride...Did you think him unfit? Did you think he wouldn't accept?

He would've been there for you no matter what, it pained him that you went through everything alone

Promised to be there from now on

He hugged you and the baby "...I love you two. ♡ Come live with me. You two won't ever be in need."

Dia and Barb visited shortly to see Luci's baby!

His baby slapped everyone in the face at some point

Mammon:

"Ha! That's a good one! I always loved ya sense of humor!"

Really thought it was a joke

You decided to surprise him in person instead

You got permission from Dia to visit

You had only told Lucifer ahead of time about the surprise visit but not why

When you knocked on the door holding the white-haired baby girl Lucifer had to do a double take

"Is this..."

He smiled and excitedly held her for a minute before returning her

"Excuse me" Lucifer said as he closed the door

"MAMMOOOOOOOOON!!!"

yeah the baby started crying

You could hear the loud commotion inside

The door swung open and Mammon stared in shock along with the rest of the family behind him

"YA WERENT JOKING!? GUYS...GUYS!! I'M A DAD!!"

He cuddled his baby girl and gave her so many kisses

You guessed it, the baby sprouted horns and wings after being held by him

Was upset at himself for thinking you were joking

He demanded you move in right away

"Nothin' will break this family. I got ya both! Daddy will take care of y'all! "♡

His baby girl managed to grab his wallet and wouldn't let go

Levi:

"As if..."

Was skeptical...him? A dad? He always thought Mammon or Asmo would be first

He didn't know anything about being a dad but he was getting more excited the more he thought about it

You wouldn't lie to him about that right? RIGHT?

But why didn't you tell him sooner!? He could've been there for support like you always supported him!!

He texted you saying he would be visiting soon

He made a quick phone call to Dia for help getting to the human world

"Yeah let's not tell Lucifer yet heheheh"

He hurriedly grabbed a few figures and collectibles to go pawn off...kids are expensive!

After selling some things he bought some baby stuff and a gift for you...the mother of his child!!

When he finally made it to the human world he cried when he held his own purple-haired baby boy

The baby cried too lmao

The baby shifted into demon form & Levi wailed even more at his beautiful copy+paste baby

Both stopped crying when you played some anime on the tv

"I-I have a ring for you...w-will you marry me? I'll be the best husband and dad I can be!" ♡

He was planning on asking anyway; this just sped things up

He wasn't sure but he thinks his kid was giving him the stink eye when he was taking too much time with you...jealousy!?

Satan:

"You're telling me this now?"

Yeah he was angry

He had a hard time believing it but he knew you wouldn't lie about something like that

After the call, he grew excited and couldn't wait to visit

Told Lucifer what was going on ASAP and he let him go to you

He tried to read as much as he could from parenting books while on the way to you

He brought some gifts and offered to let you nap while he bonded with his daughter

Yeah she shifted into demon form after being held by him

He cooed at her, brushing her blonde hair lightly, remembering his own birth

"Daddy might've been an accident, but you're definitely not. Just a beautiful surprise. ♡"

He would do anything you asked of him, he just wanted to take care of his own little family

"Hey listen to me...I won't ever let you two down. I swear it.♡"

His daughter angrily yanked the new kitty plushie from his hands and smacked him before giggling

Asmo:

"Ahaha...riiight. That's not the first time someone's tried that on me! And triplets!? "

He loved you but that was a weird joke to pull so many months later

Seriously, triplets? You had to be joking!

You were a little hurt but you kind of understood his reaction

Either way you wanted Asmo to meet them and decided to do a surprise visit

You contacted Dia for help and Barb escorted you safely to the Devildom (it was hard moving around with 3 babies!)

You nervously waited with your babies at Dia's castle while they summoned Asmo first before the other brothers

"Lord Diavolo, I'm he-" you heard Asmo gasp

He froze and took in what was in front of him

"You weren't joking!?"

He sobbed and cried out apologies to you, as he tried to figure out how he could pick them all up (sorry only two at a time!)

You handed him the two girls and watched as they shifted into demon form in his arms

Mini Asmos!

He excitedly talked about all the different outfits you could all wear and match as a family

You took one of the baby girls and handed him the boy and watched as he too shifted

"You're my family! My big beautiful family! Papa will make you all proud! I'll work SO hard!♡"

The other brothers happily joined the gathering a few minutes later

Every time someone picked up one of the babies, they were happy and friendly!

Beel:

"Huh? What? What do you mean? ... I'M COMING."

Mixed emotions: Anger for not telling him. Excited that you had his child. Sad that he wasn't there to support you on the journey. Happy overall for his new family.

He wasted no time after you told him, he called on Lucifer to let him go to the human world. His brothers caught wind and wanted to go too.

Teared up when he saw you standing and holding his baby boy, he gave a big soft family hug

Was surprised and excited when his baby shifted into demon form when he held him

It was a mini him!

He was absolutely in love with his new family

"I will give you both everything. No matter what. I will take care of you two, always.♡"

Wouldn't stop doting on you two

Growled when Belphie wanted a turn to hold his baby...he might've been a little too protective

But everyone did get a turn eventually

His baby bit/nibbled everyone at some point

Belphie:

"Twins!? Mine!? When!? You should've said something!"

Was upset you kept it from him. Scared because what if he fails you and them? But was happy to have his own little family

As soon as he hung up, he quickly called Lucifer for help and had Beel accompany to the human world

Freaked out because what do babies need? What did you need? He hurriedly bought ready made baby gift baskets hoping it would help somewhat

Each step towards your place was nerve wracking and exhilarating

Having Beel there soothed him a little so he was thankful

Belphie thought you looked so beautiful standing there holding his twins in little cow print onesies

He nervously held both and teared up when they shifted and they looked so much like him

The baby boy started crying and he freaked out

"Yeah he cries a lot. The girl however is very quiet and sleeps easily."

Belphie hummed a lullaby and soothed his son who rested happily on him.

"This is better than any dream.I will do my best to make you and them proud.That's a promise.♡"

Beel patted his back letting him know he had him and the others

His babies seemed to like cuddling a lot. They really liked holding fingers tightly.

⬦You might also like: MC Feeling Insecure︱Waffle House︱Coconut

*Super long* Authors Note/Ramblings: Moved those notes to my AO3 journal lol

[w2soneshots]

Toddler -W2S

words: 0.7k+

warnings: none.

summary: you and Harry enjoy a holiday in Dubai with your toddler.

notes: Currently got major baby fever so here's some dad bog content🤭. Enjoy!💓

Liked by wroetoshaw and 1,017,349 others

y/username: living the dream☀️🌊 @wroetoshaw

-comments-

gkbarry_: you look incredible get in my bed

-> y/username: 🛏️🏃‍♀️

faithloisak: enjoy my lovelys🫶🏼

taliamar: cutest family ever!🥹💗

y/nfanpage21: I love this sm

user2104853: the third photo is adorable🩵

Over a year and a half ago me and Harry welcomed our little boy into the world. So far it's been incredible and I've enjoyed every minute of being his mum, even through the tough parts his little smile would make the hardships completely disappear in an instant. Harry is also an amazing dad, it's like he was born for the role. A few months ago Harry surprised me with a week long trip to Dubai, and what is our first holiday as a family of three. I was extremely excited and almost immediately called Faith to get advice on what I should pack for Ollie, which is what we ended up naming him.

We arrived two days ago and are already having the best time. Yesterday we spent all day at the beach then went for a nice dinner, in which Ollie slept in his buggy the entire time. Today we're going to the Dubai aquarium, getting some lunch and going shopping. I woke up to the sound of giggling, I pried myself from Harry's grasp and reached forward to grab the smiling baby from his travel cot. I placed him between me and Harry in the bed then drifted back off to sleep. I woke up an hour later, reached over to the nightstand and grabbed my phone to see a message from Harry saying he'd gone out to grab some breakfast from downstairs. I got up and took a picture of Ollie surrounded by the white fluffy bed sheets.

y/username just posted a new story!

I quickly got dressed while Ollie slept and Harry soon came back with breakfast. When we were all ready we left the hotel to head to the aquarium. We rented a car the first day we arrived, since Ollie has to sit in a car seat plus we'll be spending much less on Ubers. I drove (since Harry despises driving) and we were soon parked outside.

Harry pulled the exited toddler from his seat, and we headed inside. Ollie seemed to be absolutely mesmerised by the sea creatures (especially the 'big scary sharks'). When we'd walked around the entire aquarium we left to go get some lunch since we were all hungry and Ollie was getting quite restless and in desperate need of a nap. We went back to the car to grab the buggy from the boot then walked to one of the nearby restaurants.

We sat down to eat our lunch as Ollie soundly slept. As me and Harry finished up our food Ollie woke up, now full of energy and hungry. We'd ordered him some plain chips so he ate them along with some fresh fruit. Which they seem to have lots of here, probably because of the hot weather.

Then we paid and made our way to Dubai mall, which thankfully has air conditioning. I happily looked through some shops while Harry followed me with the buggy. "Almost done?" Harry asked, very clearly bored. I turned around and shook my head jokingly "almost." I said with a smile. "M- mummy?" Ollie babbled. "Yes baby?" I replied squatting down in front of him. "I wanna go- the pool." He smiled. Harry chuckled and I glanced up at him "ok, let's go." I said and a look of pure excitement spread across his face.

Liked by wroetoshaw and 719,238 others

y/username: my toddlers new fixation: sharks😂🤍

-comments-

tobjizzle: looks like so much fun! Hope you're having a great time guys❤️

-> y/username: we are ty uncle jizzle💞

faithloisak: so stinking cute🥺

y/nfanpage21: the mum fits are👌🏼

user50172932: those burgers omfg

When we arrived back at the hotel we got straight into our swimming costumes and headed down to the pool. We found some deck chairs and put our things down, then (after smothering Ollie in suncream) all three of us got into the pool.

y/username just posted a new story!

Later... "I'm so lucky." Harry whispered, as we lay in bed and Ollie lightly snored in his cot. I smiled "you're so cute." He pulled me into a sweet kiss "I mean it, I'm so lucky to have you and Ol, I love you both so much." "And we’re so lucky to have you Haz."

[yukaiya-swan]

Thinking of how nervous Rengoku is when trying to ask you out.

<not proofread just a small little drabble!>

F! Reader x Kyojuro Rengoku

Rengoku believes that he doesn't believe in love. Insiting he has no time because of his hashira duties. Sure - he loves his brother, his peers.. sadly, also his father.

But watching you introduce yourself with a smile on your face to all his friends with a soft smile on your pink lips made his heart swell and his stomach do flips.

He tried his hardest, he really did, to introduce himself whenever you came over to him.

Yet he was only able to stutter out a,

"I have i-independent training to do!" Before he left.

You just sat and stated with a small pout on your face. Perhaps you had said something wrong? No, that couldn't be right. You barely even got half-way through introducing your name before he sprinted off.

Kyojuro couldn't deny how he always search for you in a room, or doing meetings, his hands always clammy.

But whenever you actually *were* near, he couldn't even stand your presence.

His eyes would widen, his face going a darker shade of red than the tips of his hair, obviously sweaty and avoiding eye contact.

Every hashira noticed. Literally everyone. Except you, you just thought he didn't like you. Which made you a tad upset, since you've taken a liking to you.

When mitsuri approached him and practically forced your favourite flowers into his hands while yelling that 'you've gotta ask her out Rengoku-sama! I'm telling you she likes you!' Before shoving him in your direction.

As you turn towards him with a smile he tries to escape, muttering excuses but mitsuri relents, pushing him even closer.

He could smell your hair, and gods how it smelt nice. He could feel himself getting all sweaty, what if he stinks? You wouldn't want your man to stink! He shouldn't even bother..

"Kyojuro? How lovely it is to see you!" You say with a bright smile.

He swears his heart nearly explodes.

He puffs his cheeks out, holding out the flowers that he is gripping very tightly, his knuckles white.

"IT WOULD BE A HONOUR IF YOU WOULD GO ON A DATE WITH ME!"

it takes you a while to process since your ears have almost burst from how loud he yells.

But you smile up at him, a small pink tinting your face.

"It would be a pleasure." You smile.

Oh, just how happy he is.

So happy.

So happy that he faints. Causing you and mitsuri to panic.

[cloudedcurses]

How do you think Gojo spoils his partner? Gifts, affection, anything they want?

Dating Gojo will include:

⥽ an: I decided to make this request or maybe a head-cannon? I dunno, I think my answer will get through a bit easier. I'm also scratching the surface here. It'll include so much more. ᡣ𐭩

⥽ incls: S.Gojo,ᡣ𐭩.

ᝰ incls cursing. 18+ MDNI

I have mentioned this before: He is a crazy strong sorcerer with unlimited abilities. If you've seen the show, you'd know he teases people who are of a lower rank than him—essentially everyone.

He does tease you... a lot. He loves to play pranks on you, from a tack in your chair to a random picture of a penis in your pocket he drew for you personally. (He may include poor Megumi in his shenanigans...) Satrou's childhood was shredded the second he was born. Before he could even walk, he had a bounty and was a target.

He didn't have much of a childhood. From training too perfect the six-eyes to constantly being the strongest and beholding that said standard. So, with this...when you two go on a date, the dates may be more on the childish side. Maybe a date to an amusement park, the circus, or something along those lines. He's a cannon gamer, so there's a chance he'd take you to a gaming cafe or an arcade. You will never have to pay for anything. Every date will be covered completely by him, him alone. When it comes to you, money doesn't matter to him, your happiness does. Mall dates are his favorite, going window shopping alone gives him a rush and dumps on his savior ego.

He watches you precisely, checking your body language because he knows when something has caught your attention. Before you can even ask to go into the store, he leads you right inside and sits by the dressing room. He loves watching you wear things. He enjoys seeing the boost of confidence it gives you, how you spin and strike a pose in the mirror, accepting that said item looks good on you before you ask for his opinion. Satoru is an honest man, if something looks bad on you, he'd tell you flat out. He scrunches up and shakes his head, holding his nose as if it stinks or something childishly along the lines. When something looks fantastic on you, It's purchased immediately. He sees into the dressing room with his six eyes, knowing good and well it looks good and already buying it before you can attempt to buy it yourself.

Now, Your Amazon wishlist? Brought.

He did that when you two were simply dating, before even being official.

He found your Amazon wishlist one night and purchased everything.

Imagine your surprise to have packages keep coming to your place back to back for either a week or close to a year.

Car issues? Gone.

The second your car starts to give you issues, he buys you a new one. Make it easier for him and point to a car that you'd like to have..' one day'. I'd like to mention trips as well. You don't go to Kyoto, but you go everywhere else. Paris, France. Seoul, South Korea. (Briefly) New York City, USA. London, England.

Places you've heard of and some you haven't. All you'd never ever imagine yourself going to.

He's your white knight that saves you from the darkness of the world.

If you've got a sweet tooth, you've got bonus points too.

─────────── MDNIજ ─────────────

Alright, Imma rip off the bandaid here. I'm a believer that Gojo would date someone who's slightly bigger than him, someone's a fan of sweets just like him. He practically needs it to just..exist. Unless you've got a strict diet or high metabolism, You're gonna gain weight around him while he's a lanky man. He also fancies things with you that you'd be surprised he'd want.

He wants to fuck you on a moutain of money, seeing the dollars cling to your sweaty skin.

He also wishes to fuck you on a bunch of gold. Bricks, coins, and more...he wants to see your blissful reflection on a brick of gold, pleading for more. The next thing? He wants to fuck you with candy around! Those candy bikinis or gummy panties? He wants you in it the second he sees it.

Chocolate syrup, gummy syrup or caramel.The taste of you is sweetened by the taste of candy. There's nothing better to him. Gojo has a high libido and stamina. He goes for hours and maybe longer, he gives you his all...showing you just how powerful he is to you. You think it's over...just for him to come back for more. Your body is his ultimate addiction. He uses sweets to keep him powerful and his mind sharp...but you? You are the best sweet in his life.

Just know, even with the strongest you get to experience, very few get to see...and that's when he's the weakest. After the sun is in the sky, peeking through the curtains of his expensive penthouse in the massive city. You see just how adorable he is...and admire him for just a little while.

[raven-cincaide]

The last piece

Summary: In desperation, you search for a set of wings to complete your last-minute Halloween costume. As you do that, you run into a man who seems to think you have more potential to you than a simple university party girl, and he’s dead set on having you join ‘Jujutsu University’- whatever that is… 

Pairing: Fem! Reader x Satoru Gojo Sweetober prompt: 1 Halloween costumes  WC: 3K Warnings: Cursing, alcohol consumption, hint at rude behaviour, bullying, suggestive content and relationship between teacher-student. 

“ I swear they don’t have them!”  

You huffed loudly, couched down into a squat, your hands frantically searching through the piles of plastic bags of the cheaply made costumes carelessly stuffed into the bottom shelf of the tiny pop-up store. You shuffled, reshuffled and pulled out some bags before stuffing them carelessly back into the shelf. Only to repeat the search cycle. 

It was an action that earned you the stink eye from the store attendant and the few other patrons who were patiently waiting for you to be done so they could have their go at the few remaining costumes. You didn’t care about the glares, the coughs aimed to get you aware of your surroundings or even the not-so-subtle comments that there were other people in the world beside you. Rather, you raised your shoulder more and pressed your phone closer against your ear so you could better hear your best friend's awkward, mock, sympathetic laugh,

 “I am telling you, they don’t have a single pair of black wings. I am not even hoping for bat wings at this point; any wings will do. Just give me the frame, and I’ll fix the rest! But they’re cleaned out: NADA, not a single one!”

“Well, then it sounds like you’ll be going in one of those shitty off-brand get-ups. So what will it be, hun? Slutty nun? Slutty pirate? ohh ohh maybe slutty vampire?” “What? And have Emelie and her goons rub it in my face all night? In that case, I may as well just not show up at all” Your voice came out whiny as you shoved the plastic bags away from yourself back into their draw. 

Your eyes filled with hate as you stared at them as though they were somehow at fault for your bad fortune- the leathery bat wings you had spent months creating, designing and sowing had been damaged during a water leak in your apartment. And no matter how much you dried and cleaned them, you couldn’t get rid of the sewer stench. With the Halloween party later that evening, your only other option was to take a ready-made wing frame and re-dress it into cloth and leather. It wouldn’t be fancy, but if you put more emphasis on your make-up and hair, you’d look classy enough. Maybe even like a bat.  

“C’mon don’t even joke-”“-If you’re done, wouldn’t it be nice to let others look? This store has the best costumes in town, and it’d be a shame to let them go to waste after all,” A male voice purred behind you in a playful yet rather rude tone with a touch of scolding to it. 

You jumped to your feet and spun around. Your lips were set into a surprised ‘0’. This was the first time in ages anyone was able to sneak up on you. This fact instantly put you on edge. You studied the man closely, from his snow-white hair and the black mask which hid his eyes to the dark blue uniform that made him look like he was a cosplayer, all ready for trick-or-treating despite being a decade too old for that. Then again, you weren’t in your teens either, so maybe the pot shouldn’t call the kettle black. He was tall, towering over you and looked rather awkwardly unfitting in the pop-up store, as if he and his long legs didn’t quite fit in the tiny space between your crouched down position and the fluffy fake wigs and fur behind himself. 

He was oddly out of place but also comfortable in it.

You released the breath you were holding and stood up. “Whatever”, You huffed as you moved to walk past him, purposefully bumping your shoulder against his. You heard his sharp intake of breath, a murmur ‘interesting’ followed by a stand turning over. You grimaced, a stab of guilt coursing through you- you hadn’t meant to make him stumble or turn something over but you pushed the unpleasant feeling down and just rushed out of the store. 

Lingering behind would only embarrass you further. 

“Okay so there’s one last open gimmicky store, and you should make it before closing time, so you start by going left..”  

Your best friend's voice on the phone was a welcome distraction as your feet carried you down the street away from the commotion you caused. You disregarded the guilt, focusing on a prayer instead. You knew you didn’t deserve divine intervention but you still prayed to whatever god- or demon- that would answer that you’d be able to save yourself from humiliation at the party. You just needed to find a single pair of wings in the last store, that was all. Surely, it is not too large of a request to ask for. 

Apparently, it was; luck, god and the devil were not at your side as you left as the day's last customer. There were no wings in sight of any kind, and the only remaining costume in your size was an overpriced Harley Queen version from Suicide Squad. Mini shorts, fishnets, a torn a little too short t-shirt and a flimsy rain poncho they dared call a jacket. You had to buy a baseball bat, accessories, and heels separately. 

It was an impulse buy full of desperation. Which you regretted the second you stepped out onto the warm afternoon street. But as you heard the store clerk lock the door behind you, you knew the chances of you being able to return it were beyond non-existent. 

“Why such a disappointed face? Want a lollie or something?” It was that male voice again that seemed to pop up out of nowhere. This time he wasn’t behind you, but rather beside you, arms full of bags from different stores; Halloween pop-up store, candy store, Daiso, and a cheap (candy?) pair of fangs poking out of his mouth. 

Before you could respond- be it in apology for shoving him into a stand earlier that day or accuse him of stalking you-  he reached into one of the bags and the next thing you knew, a plastic headband with giant eyeballs, with googly eye irises and fake blood all over googly eyes tied to long spring wires which bounced in all the direction, made it to your head. 

You gaped at his audacity. 

The man merely grinned in response. “Because that’s what you youngsters like, right? Gory creepy things. If not, I have cat ears and pumpkins as well.” 

You stood stunned for a moment, not knowing what was more insulting, a man close to your age calling you a youngster or the audacity he had to put that ridiculous headband onto you. Either way, you reached up and ripped the headband off your head, messing your hair up completely. “How would I know?! I’m not a ‘youngster’,” you snapped back, throwing the accessory at him. 

You saw it hit the ground in front of him and turned on your heel. “Aj aj aj, aren’t you at least going to give it back to me politely? I’ve gone out of my way to do something nice for a stranger, even after she shoves me into a stand” His voice is lighthearted like he doesn’t actually expect you to respond to him. 

But your steps falter, your cheeks flush pink, and the twitch of guilt is back. 

You knew he was, at best case, jesting and, at worst, manipulating you. But you couldn’t deny his words. You did act incredibly rude towards him just because you had terrible luck, which turned your panties in a twist- with no fault of his. Damned guilt. 

Turning on your heel, you walked back to where the Halloween diadem with plastic eyes lay on the ground and picked it up. Another step and you were in the white haired man's personal space. Then you slam it in the only area of him not covered in shopping bags- a part of his upper chest. You feel the silky material of his uniform and the tense rock-hard muscles, and you see the unmistakable grin on his lips. As if he had won the lottery. “Interesting. You’ve got potential and-” 

“Thanks, but not interested; try a pick-up line that isn’t licked off the internet” You cut him off, then turned back around and walked away. You tried to keep your head held high and your expression neutral, even as his laughter echoed off the street walls.

Clearly, he found whatever you said ridiculously amusing. 

Although you found him infuriatingly intriguing, you forced yourself to stop thinking about him the second your best friend called you up about the latest update on the evening's Halloween party. You were determined not to let her know you had embarrassed yourself twice in front of the same hot guy. After all, the more you thought about the odd white-haired man, the more you were sure you would never run into him again. And if she found out how you behaved, she’d never let you live it down. So you just listened to her rant and rave while you headed home with just enough time to grab some dinner and make a few edits to the not-cheap-yet-cheap-looking Harley attire in an attempt to make it less last-minute obvious before it was time to head out. 

The time flew incredibly fast. 

The Halloween party was held at one of the largest party buildings on campus. Normally reserved for formal events, it was completely re-decorated into several floors of madness. Fake cobwebs hung from almost every corner; the windows were tinted; some were completely black with white sticker ghosts stuck on them; others had cutouts of bloody handprints. Doors were replaced with creepy, cut or stained shower curtains, and Halloween-inspired Rave and Techno music pulsed through every floor, from pumpkin smashing in the cellar to the corridor of horror in the attic. It was the biggest and longest party of the entire year. 

As you stood beside your best friend at the drinks table, inches from the semi-packed dance floor full of zombies, witches and vampires, ‘you felt oddly out of place. It wasn’t that your costume stood out amidst the hundreds ‘sexy’ characters: nurse, maid, pirate, clowns and such. It was that it was too generic; there were at least six other almost identical Harley Queen and as the sevenths walked in through the door, you felt your patience hang on by a thin thread. 

The thread grew thinner as you saw Emelie and her group enter as if they owned the entire party. The Childhood-friend-Emelie-who-you-knew-since-kindergarten-but-who’s-mommy -remarried-rich. The one who got her precious popularity by trampling all over you and your image; if she made you the scapegoat and the butt of the joke, no one would have the time to question her and her new money. No, a once friend had become a part of the typical rich girls and guys who thought they were better than the rest of the world because they could wave their daddy’s credit cards. 

You hated them about as much as you were jealous of them. Even if they took it upon themselves to rub it in your face whenever they could, how much better they were than you. Or, their new favourite tactic: reminding you how much you didn’t live up to your own image. You saw them stare you up and down and felt your face flush in the darkroom as they whispered among themselves. 

A daughter of a seamstress who turned up in a cheap-bought costume. 

You saw them make a be-line for you, moved through the crowds that parted for them like the sea for Moses. Inevitably, you knew they wouldn’t let you live it down. You gripped your best friend's arm, a signal that it was time for you two to get out. But she stood frozen in spot. Even as Emelie and her friends appeared in front of you and your best friend, she didn’t bat an eye, ignoring their snarky jabs until they finally looked somewhere behind you. Instantly, their expressions shifted from sadistic to almost flirty. 

You brought the glass of punch to your lips before turning your head toward the door. As your eyes landed on a tall man with white hair, black glasses and a more casual get-up of a white shirt, black pants and a cloak- the only ‘Halloween-y’ thing on him, you almost dropped your punch. His eyes landed on you, and he reached his arm up and obnoxiously waved in your direction.

If you hadn’t noticed him before, you sure as hell did now. 

He made sure he was impossible to miss, after all.  You turned away with a roll of your eyes, but not before you heard his voice cut through the brief silence between songs; “Heeey you never gave me your number, little violent Harley!”

You blinked, then ducked your head down as half of the dance floor turned to face you. 

“You know him?” your friend gasped, and you timidly shrugged your shoulders. 

“ Is he famous or something?” You asked your best friend, who slapped your shoulder with such force that you gaped at her. The look she gives you is as if you’re the stupidest person on earth. Literary. “That’s Satoru” The name didn’t ring a bell. “Satoru Gojo” Oh old money. Now you understand why half of the student body is glaring at you. Why Emelie looked at you like that. The look in her eyes that so obviously said you weren’t even worthy to be in the same space as him. Let alone speak his name or act as ignorant as you did. The look on her face was full of promises, barbed words that would cut deeper than ever before, a promise to promise to drag your image through the dirt even further until you would never recover–

“There you are!” You felt his arm wrap around your lower waist, purposefully following the outline of your skimpy shorts. His long fingers just barely brushed against your bare side; close enough for you to feel the warmth of his hand, but too far away for it to be gravely inappropriate to touch a stranger. It seemed he settled for just slightly inappropriate in this case. You saw his blue eyes flicker between you and Emelie before turning back to you. “It’s stuffy here, lets head outside.” 

Like a knight in shining armour, he ‘stepped in to help you’ while trapping you between a rock and a hard place; you could either dismiss him again and be left in Emelie’s clutches or you could step outside like he wanted you to but causing a sea of rumours in the process. 

Either way, your reputation wouldn’t be the same. 

You nodded and followed him out, the attention you two caused creating enough commotion for your friend to sneak away elsewhere unnoticed. Once outside, he didn’t stop walking but dragged you further and further towards the dark campus grounds until the pounding music was just a light hum in the background. You breathed a sigh of relief before nerves set in. By reflex, you brought the plastic cup of punch back to your lips, but before you could take a sip, he yanked it out of your hold with his free hand. 

“You’re too young to be drinking this” Gojo scolded, taking a large clunk of your alcoholic beverage.

“Hey, I’m of age to drink!” you proclaimed and reached for your cup. He took another clunk before raising it far above your head. 

Damned tall bastard. 

“Just because you’re of age doesn’t mean you should!” the way he said it made you roll your eyes and you made a sudden jump towards the cup. The hand on your waist tightened, supporting you as you jumped and jumped until you finally wrapped your hand around the rim of the plastic cup and yanked it out of his grip. 

You brought it to your lips, a victorious grin, only to realise it was completely empty. “You downed the lot?!” 

Gojo laughed, a sound that didn’t sound mocking or malicious. Maybe it was the alcohol getting to your head, but it sounded almost.. Flirty? As if he read your thoughts, he stopped walking and leaned down closer, stopping inches away from you. You realized his eyes were pretty and that he smelled of alcohol, the fruity, sweet smell of punch that barely hid the sharp tang of alcohol. He was hot, and he knew it, and if that wasn’t enough allure, he was old money. The concept of ‘no’ did not exist in his vocabulary- and it showed.

“Come study under me at Jujutsu University.” He said it so casually, as if it was the most honourable offer you would ever get in your entire life.

“I have a degree I’m working towards” You deflected. However, you were painfully aware of his fingers playfully moving a few inches up your bare waist, to the outlines of your t-shirt and then down again. 

“We’ll get you a more suitable degree” Gojo declared, and you swore his voice dropped lower into a quiet, seductive purr. “One where you don’t need to hide or be on edge all the time,” Gojo spoke as if he could see right through you, through the rude and almost aggressive facade created to protect your most vulnerable and fragile self. He spoke as if he could see you down to your very core, your fears and insecurities all laid bare for him. 

You wanted to lash out at him and tell him he had you all wrong. But the way he held your eyes with an amused twinkle in his own, the grin on his lips that promised nothing but mischief and adventure and the hot hand that never quite stopped moving had you reconsider. His hold on you was tight, demanding, warm, desirable. 

The implications and opportunities were unmistakable.  

You swallowed thickly; your eyes more boldly ran over his features- his hair, his face, up to his eyes, down to his lips, then over the edge of his shirt, lingered on the brand name you couldn’t pronounce, flickered down to the accessories you realized only looked cheap but were made of precious gems and metals, then back up again. You couldn’t help as your lips pulled up into a shaky smirk. “So, do all teachers at Jujutsu Uni hit on their students?”

 “Ahh, but you see my dear, what happens before enrollment; it stays before enrollment, don’t you agree?” He lowered his head a little closer, clearly noticing how your eyes travelled. He had you where he wanted you, not by any altruistic ‘love at first sight’ method, but he’d take what he could get. 

The kiss, when it came, was demanding. Still, you couldn’t help but kiss him back. After all, you weren’t about to disagree with your soon-to-be teacher. Your job was to make a good impression on him for some bonus points. Though, given the way his lips moved against yours, you were certain you already had more in your hands than just your admission covered.. 

When Gojo wants something, he gets it, don't you agree?

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[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

Angel - Part 2

Marvel AU

Pairing: Alpha Steve Rogers x Enhanced Omega Reader x Alpha Bucky Barnes

Theme: A/B/O / True Mates

Summary: It's different when you're enhanced. Everything is different, every smell, every sound, touch, feelings. The way it's different doesn't make sense unless you are enhanced. Throw in what comes with Alpha and Omega instincts, and the intensity of your presentation is even more than any other. When you find yourself in need of help you can call on the alpha you trust the most, Natasha Romanoff. You just don't expect to find your alphas at the same time. Are you really enough for them? And can you really be the Luna to the Avengers?

"To be loved, to be loved by your mate is everything." - Wanda Maximoff

Reader is enhanced, has wings and has powers connected to electricity.

Chapter Summary: Clint and Nat discover what's happened to you.

Chapter Warning: Mentions of sexual assault and attempted rape.

Clint’s the first to find you.

You’re sitting in the ditch your knees to your chest, head down and your wings wrapped around you.

“I have her, slow approach.”

He slowly knelt down in front of you, keeping a two metre distance. He had never seen your wings so dark, as black as they were now. You’d told him early on in your friendship that they changed colour with your moods. The darker, the worse the mood. He’d only seen them pure white a couple of times and it was always around his kids or laughing with Nat and Laura on the porch at the farm. But right now, they were as dark as night, like Lucifer himself had given them to you.

“Y/N? Sweetie it’s me. It’s Clint. Can you let me see you?”

Your wings dipped ever so slightly and your tear filled eyes looked back at him. It didn’t take a detective to figure out what had happened. Even his beta nose could pick up the stink of the alpha on you and he knew that scent. If he didn’t kill the alpha responsible, Romanoff definitely would. Clint knew what he had to ask you and he hated having to ask, knowing he really already knew the answer, but protocol was protocol and he knew at least a dozen agents that practically worshipped you and would bring in the piece of shit, to save him and Romanoff the trouble. They’d get you settled and then have him delivered to them. Wanda would want in on this and he was sure Wade owed you a favour. Yeah that would do it but now he needs you out of this ditch.

“Y/N? Do you require a female senior officer for debrief?”

You nodded weakly in reply.

Purposeful footsteps made themselves known and you saw Natasha’s silhouette appear from the darkness, the sparse street lights being all to light the ditch.

“Angel?”

The smell and look in your eyes hit Natasha like a freight train and she knew right then she was putting some red in her ledger. She tried her best to keep the growl muffled in her chest as she pulled out a pair of medical gloves from her pocket, as Clint mimicked her actions.

“Bruce call Hill, direct line, tell her we need her on a video call immediately. AR and SA suspected. Debrief required.” Clint requested over comms as he and Natasha slowly reached out to you, their hands outstretched. You placed a hand in one each of theirs and they slowly lifted you up, both noticing how your face contorted with pain.

“We’ve got you.” spoke Clint softly as he slipped an arm around your waist, “this OK?”

You let out a shuddered breath and nodded. Nat mimicked Clint’s actions, pushing down her inner alpha’s rage. Both supported you keeping the smallest of gaps between you so not to contaminate your suit too much and damage the evidence you were covered in.

The light breeze generated from F.R.I.D.A.Y bringing around the jet blew your hair back and Clint got a clearer view of your face, and could see a clear the mark where you’d been struck. Bruce appeared on the already lowered ramp and you noticed he was also wearing gloves and a disposable apron.

“Hills online and everything is set up.”

As you entered the jet you became aware of what Bruce meant and saw a projection of a live video call from Deputy Director Hill, a stern look on her face. A plastic sheet was laid in front of the screen, and on it laid a clear bag, swabs, scissors and nail clippers. You stepped on the sheet and Hill pushed down a growl, trying to hide it as a clearing of her throat as she saw the state you were in.

“Agent, please confirm your identity.”

You signed back.

AFH 27, code name Angel

“I’m going to need verbal communication if possible Agent.”

You gesture at your throat, getting frustrated when you realised you weren’t being clear.

“I don’t think she can.” Bruce replied for you, noticing the bruising making its way up your neck. He placed a tablet in front of you, the internal state of your vocal calls displayed.

There was a muttered Jesus Christ from Hill.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y give her a full body scan for injuries, fluids and any other evidence.”

“Agent, tell me what happened.”

TAGLIST

@hnnhbananananana

[moonlight-canavalia]

Ch 3: It’s Love Isn’t It?

Pair: Satoru Gojo x F! Reader

Summary: Gojo doesn’t realize how much time has gone by while on a mission and misses a date you two had planned.

Cw: Bit of Angst, Smut,Mirror Sex, Bathroom Sex, Fluff, Pet Names, P in V sex, Teasing

It’s surprising how quick 6 months have gone by. Gojo had been talking up how amazing this date was going to be. Nothing was gonna come in between this celebration since last month the both of you were on different missions. And this marks half a year together.

At least that was what you thought.

Trying to call Gojo once again, nothing. The line rings and goes to voicemail after a few seconds. “The reservation was for 3 hours ago. You told me this was going to be quick. But here I am. Still waiting. You better have a good excuse. Bye.” Hanging up you throw your phone to the side.

“Oh I can’t wait. What is he gonna say tomorrow?” You think, knowing in the back of your mind this can happen at any moment. Gojo’s schedule is hectic; days for relaxation are rare. But you can’t help the way you feel. Getting ready for bed you decide to leave your phone away from you. Sleep isn’t easy to come by that night, but in the middle of all the tossing and turning your tired body finally succumbs to sleep.

Unknown to you Gojo is finally done with his mission. Furious and cursing himself for letting it drag on for this long. Finally being able to check his phone he’s met with all your missed calls and text messages. Seeing how late it was he still has some hope you were up. Ready to get some take out and wind down with you he tries calling. The line rings and rings, but you don’t pick up.

The white haired male hasn’t felt this defeated in a while, he’s come to the conclusion you’ve fallen asleep. Not wanting to disturb you he decides to go to his apartment alone. “Tomorrow”—he thinks—“I'll try making it up to you.”

Not being able to get you out of his mind he quickly sends a text “I’ll try making it up to you, my Angel, I didn’t expect this to take this long. I wasn’t able to give you a heads up, there was a lot going on.”

3:22AM reads the clock hanging on the wall at the entrance of his apartment.

Scoffing at the clock he takes off his shoes and starts making his way to the bathroom for a quick shower. Leaving a trail of his clothes behind him.

Turning on the water, he gets in. The shock of the first few seconds of cold water is quickly replaced by the welcoming hot temperature. Groaning under the stream he feels his muscles relax, he can feel the water washing the tension away. Reaching out to grab his body wash he grabs the one you’ve left, by mistake. With tiredness clouding his mind he hadn't noticed until the sweet scent of peaches invaded his senses. He feels like you’re there for a moment until he remembers you’re probably deep in dreamland.

Finishing up his shower he grabs a towel. Drying off and putting on some fresh clothes he makes his way to his bedroom; grabbing his phone on the way. Sitting on his bed, he’s thinking what is the best thing to send you. You’re probably mad at him or irritated at most. He knows you understand where he stands, he knows you’ll be there for him. But also acknowledges that you can still be upset. That’s why he’s unsure on what to write. Should he just explain himself and say he’ll try to not let it happen again? No. He can’t. Gojo knows how hectic his schedule is and missions don’t come with a set end date or hour. So it’s best to not lie that way.

He comes up with a simple one.

‘I tried calling but it’s late, you’re probably sleeping right now. I didn’t expect it would take this long. I’ll see you tomorrow Angel.’

Sending the message he still has the need to add more to it. So that’s exactly what he does.

‘I hope you’re sleeping well.’

‘I miss you :(‘

‘Can you wake up already.’

‘You stink.’

‘Last message is a lie. But can you wake up already? I can't sleep!’

Checking his phone for the time it reads 5:17AM.

Sleep isn’t coming for him and he knows it. So he decides to go and grab some snacks at a convenience store and warp to your apartment. You’re supposed to have the day off and Gojo is going to make this day free for him too.

Three phone calls later and you still haven’t picked up. He was begging to worry that you were actually pissed and didn’t want to talk to him. But none of the messages had been opened yet. It’s barely 7AM so you just have to be sleeping still, he tells himself to not break his heart a little. Never in his wildest dreams did he ever think he’d be so worried about having someone be mad at him. He annoys people for fun, some ignore him and others get away from him when he gets too much. But just the idea of you not wanting to speak to him makes his stomach tie itself in knots even if he doesn’t want to admit it.

Warping into your apartment he walks around to your kitchen. Sometimes you sleep with your door open so he doesn't want to turn the lights on and disturb you just yet. It’s bright enough for him to see his way around. The sun is starting to come in with its early rays of light. Leaving the snacks and microwaveable food on the countertop he starts making his way to your room.

Stopping to admire your sleeping figure he takes his phone out and snaps a quick picture before walking towards you. He asks himself how did someone like you end up with someone like him. It’s a question he’s asked himself time and time again. Maybe one day he’d get his answer; but for now he’s happy it happened. The pure warmth he feels just looking at you makes him want to scream. But he decides on just sitting beside you while you’re on your side. Gently shaking you to wake you up.

“Good morning Angel” he says in a hushed tone, voice so low it’s almost foreign. He laughs at the small jump and deep breath you take.

“What the fuck” is the first thing that slips out of your mouth, surprised by him being there.

“Well not exactly ‘good morning love of my life’ but I’ll take it, sweetheart.” He says while leaning in to press a kiss on your forehead. “You are absolutely breathtaking. Maybe it’s your breath though.” Before he can start laughing you hit his arm. Pouting he rubs his arm in fake pain. “Why are you being so mean so early in the morning?”

Groaning at him while you stretch your body to find a comfortable position as Gojo slips right beside you under the bed sheets.

“What are you doing here?” Voice still a little hoarse with sleep. “What time is it?” You ask touching under your pillows trying to find your phone. Coming to halt once you remember you left it in the living room.

Humming to himself Gojo starts off “Well I’ve been trying to call you. But I can see you don’t have your phone near you.”

“No. I don’t.” You snap, turning away from him.

“I can sense that you’re irritated. But I really didn’t think it would take that long. It just happened and come on,” -lowering his voice to a bare whisper- “I missed you so bad I’m here. I haven’t even slept.” He says throwing his arm over you—pulling you closer to him.

Nestling against you he starts littering your neck with quick pecks trying to coax you to at least turn towards him. You know he didn’t do it on purpose and you could see it on his face how tired he is. “Did you really not sleep?” Your voice cuts through his onslaught of kisses.

“Nope.” He answers and hides again in the crook of your neck.

How can he still sound so upbeat? He has to be so tired and you can feel him grinning against your skin.

Gojo knows you can’t stay mad at him for long and he’s grateful for it. All he wants is to spend the day with you—everyday really—but he will settle for this right now… Maybe he’ll ask you to move in together. ‘One day’ he assures himself. He already knows you’re it for him, he’s known it since you both met. But he doesn’t want to scare you away. He will do it, he will make you his wife one day.

At his lack of words you reach back and pat his face. He gives a quick peck to the palm of your hand, letting out a small sigh you turn to face him. First thing you see is his bright smile. The smile reserved just for you, an honest one.

“Hi, am I gonna get my kiss or not?” he asks—draping his arm around your waist—“I missed you.”

You feel warmth spread across your body looking at him. Giving in, you get close enough to whisper against his lips “I missed you too”, lips brushing tentatively against his first. A kiss so soft it feels like the first fresh breeze on an autumn morning. “Now can we sleep? I’m still tired and you really should get some rest ‘Toru, hm?”

“Fineee” he drawls. “But can you at least give me a real kiss? That wasn’t a real one”

Before he starts pouting you beat him to it and gently squeeze his face “If you keep pouting your face will stay that way one day. Then what?” you mutter.

“Honestly? I don’t think you’d mind.” Gojo says as he tries to smile.

You want to say the opposite but you can’t. Offering him a low hum as a response. It doesn’t matter what he looks like, how mad he makes you sometimes, you’d always be there with him and for him; the same can be said for him..

The feeling of his long, lithe fingers making their way under your shirt sends a shiver down your spine. A trail of warmth is left against the skin of your back. Giving you a squeeze you understand his signal of wanting you to lay on your back. Shifting your position to accommodate him,

Gojo settles himself on top of you. Straddling your hips, caging you under him. Resting his arms beside your head he speaks softly “Do we really need specific days to celebrate? Because I don’t think so, I’d celebrate you —us— every day. We’ve done good so far. But I’ll try to do better.” He punctuates each word with a kiss, starting from your shoulder all the way up until he makes it to your lips.

“Satoru, if you forget our actual anniversary you’re screwed. I hope you know that”. Bringing his left hand to caress the side of your face you feel any sliver of annoyance leave your body. Smiling up at him he gives your lips a quick peck and settles beside you once more.

Laying on his side, face resting on his open hand he looks at you. Really looks at you and the silence, though just mere seconds feels stretched. But before you can speak he cuts you off with “Your smile is a piece of art. You’re just the most precious little thing aren’t ya?”.

He surprises you in so many ways, and his words are the biggest ones. Feeling yourself start to get warm you lightly tap his chest “stop it”. And bury your face in your pillows. Grabbing your hand he gives a kiss to your knuckles and responds “I don’t think so”.

In the middle of the conversation you two were having you fall asleep. It’s funny how easy it came to you. Barely making it to 20 minutes, and you were already out. He could fill you in on what happened later. “Must’ve been tired, huh sweet thing?.” He murmurs to himself. Watching your sleeping face is one of his favorite things, he sees the movement behind your eyelids and wonders what you’re dreaming of. Hopefully it involves him in some way, you look tranquil, so peaceful. Slowly he brings his hand up, knuckles gently brushing the side of your face. He wants this —you— everyday. It’s the one thing he’s been sure about.

Easing himself in a comfortable position with such care as to not wake you up, he can’t take his eyes away from you. Picturing waking up next to you every day. He’s caught again in the same thought ‘I want her with me everyday’. At some point he fell asleep, hand covering the side of your face. So imagine his surprise when the both of you wake up some hours later trying to have a normal conversation but you’re still talking about the size of his hand.

“Well I won’t let it happen again if it bothers you.” He chuckles knowing well that’s not the case. Sitting down on your couch.

“ I didn’t say that; it’s just your palm alone is the size of my FACE” you deadpan.

It’s something you’ve known and noticed since you met him. But having him now always touching you, you find yourself flabbergasted.

“And even though I appreciate the fact you brought food and snacks, you better not let anything fall on my couch or so help me—“

Interrupting you mid sentence with his booming laugh “Stop exaggerating,”

Rolling your eyes at him “I’m not and you know that. I’m not gonna play this game with you.” You say as you’re cleaning your countertop.

“Aw come on”— he says “come here” he continues, grinning ear to ear.

“And why should I do that when you can come over here.” Raising an eyebrow at him, you wait for his answer.

“Because I asked nicely” and he smiles that bright smile of his that gets him whatever he wants.

Sighing dramatically you walk towards him. Standing in front of him you cross your arms and prepare yourself for whatever it is he’s gonna say or do. What you’re not prepared for is for him standing up and grabbing your face between his thumb and forefinger. Eyes slightly opening wide you look up at him and the smile hasn’t left his face. Applying some pressure he makes your lips pucker up.

“Well look at that Y/N you were right.” Taking a closer look at you he lowers his voice “you look cute like this.”

Your brain short circuits. Before you get a chance to speak he brings his thumb up against your lower lip. Slowly dragging it along. He knows you’re looking at him, but he can’t seem to tear his gaze away from your soft lips. Often lost in thoughts about how they feel, how you taste, the noises you make. Those are things he thinks about at night, in the privacy and comfort of his room. Still not fully grasping the fact that you both are together. It’s still so new to him. The fact that you’re still shy around him is something he relishes.

Right now an innocent jab is turning into something he’s not sure he wants to stop.

“Open” he says barely above a whisper.

With how loud your heart is beating you wonder if he hears it. Slowly you open your mouth just wide enough for him to slip his thumb in.

“Atta girl” comes out in a gravelly tone.

Sucking it gently, you make yourself hold eye contact with him.

Swallowing hard Gojo lets out a short breathy laugh.

“Heh, you really are something else. Aren’t ya? My sweet girl and look at her.” He speaks with heavily lidded eyes, focusing now on your mouth. The warmth of your mouth has his mind wondering. Without much thinking, he applied some pressure to your tongue and went a bit further in. Bringing himself closer to you, he rests his left hand on your hip and starts squeezing. “That’s it baby, I gotta start training you hm? That way you can take more of me.” Your doe eyes look at him in surprise,and he snickers at you.

Pink starts to dust his cheeks and it’s such a cute sight, contrary to what’s happening. And you feel heat start to make its way up your neck. Deciding enough with his game you take a step back. His finger leaves your mouth with a small “pop” noise and you’re not sure where to look.

“Well, I hope you had fun.” you try to say as stern as you can in your flustered state.

Gojos eyes go wide for a second, he was quick to wipe the shock off his face. Grinning down at you he gives you a tight hug, resting his chin on your head “you’re so mean, baby.”

Rolling your eyes at him “Gojo”

“Ew don’t call me that. You can’t call me that; it should be illegal.” He says with furrowed brows.

Laughing, you hug him. “Oh no yeah, I’m glad you're laughing while I feel dirty here.”

“Stop being such a baby.” You say looking up at him.

Chuckling he pinches your left cheek while leaving small pecks on your right one. “Do you want to take a shower together?” he asks after stopping. Rubbing small circles on your hips, he waits for your answer.

“Let’s go then” you say, grabbing his hand as you start your way to the bathroom.

"If you wanted me naked that bad you could've just asked sweetheart, I don't mind."

"Satoru, I will drown you." you bark at him

"Aw, anything that happens by your hands will make me happy. It doesn't matter what it is." he blows a kiss at you.

Deciding to ignore him you open the shower room door, and step inside. Turning on the water you turn around to start taking your clothes off and to you're stunned to find Gojo already down to his black boxer briefs. "What?" He asks as you look at him up and down. "You like what you see? I know, it's a lot to take in."

Rolling your eyes you turn your back to him, to start taking your clothes off. As you go to take your shirt off, you feel his hands on your waist, "let me help" he says as he gives you a kiss on the top of your head. Hands now roaming under your shirt all you mumble is a simple "mhm" back to him. Pinching the hem of your shirt you instinctively raise your arms so he can take it off. Covering your breasts you turn to face him. You suppress the laugh that wants to escape your mouth when you see your boyfriend squatting , he didn't have to do it. But he is a strange man sometimes, so you just let him do what he wants and not question it. Gojo leaves a kiss on each of your hips and starts to slowly drag your pants and underwear down. Kissing down your thighs and legs he tells you to step out of them as they bunched around your ankles. Standing to his full height he drags his boxers down and leaves them on the floor. You're bashfully looking away not being able to meet his gaze. Stepping in to the shower he lets you get under the hot water first, gladly looking at how the water glistens over your skin.

Getting harder the more he watches you he decides to ignore his predicament in favor of cleaning you first. Lathering you up he slowly drags his hands all over your body "I'm just gonna help."

"Liar" you think to yourself, as his hands are busy massaging your breasts. Thumbs gently rubbing your hardened nipples. You weren't gonna complain, he was doing a good job making sure he cleans you well. "Almost done sweetheart. You still had some soap here." He says as he has you pressed against his wet chest. "Oh, almost forgot her" he says cupping your pussy. "Spread your legs a bit for me." You take in a shuddering breath at his words, but do as he says. Dragging two of his long fingers up and down your slit you can't help the low moan you let out at the minimal contact. Smiling to himself you feel his fingertips circling around your clit, adding more pressure bit by bit. Grateful that he had his left arm around your waist for support, since your legs are starting to tremble; you hold on to his arm to maintain your balance. Closing your eyes you open your legs wider subconsciously. "Look at me pretty girl" he says as he lets go of your waist, angling your face up to look at him. Not opening your eyes, lost in the feeling he's causing between your legs he gives your cheek a few taps. "I said look at me." and you snap your eyes open at his rough tone. "Good girl" and at that you feel his slender fingers prod at your entrance.

"Do you want me to touch you...here? Hm?" he hums. With how close he's holding your body against his you feel the vibrations in his chest against your back. Latching his lips against your neck he leaves a mark against your soft skin. You're lost in the feeling of his lips against your sensitive neck you barely registered the stretching feeling until he started moving his fingers in and out of you. With how long they are you feel them reach so deep in you it always leaves your head spinning. Your sweet whimpers are filling the the space around the both of you, water getting lukewarm against your bodies, and all he wants is to make you cum before he buries his cock in you.

You're moving your hips, growing more desperate to get yourself off. "Aah-fuck" you moan as you stretch one of your arms so you can tangle your fingers in his hair "more" you say pulling at his roots; the stinging sensation making him groan. You feel Gojos warm lips against your neck speaking to you in a condescending tone "I'll make you cum baby. Is that what my girl wants?" feeling your pussy squeeze around his fingers he quickens his movements against your sopping cunt. The high pitched moans that you let out feel like a blessing to his ears each time he hears them. He needs to make you finish before he cums, he's been grinding his cock against your ass from the start and it's getting painful how much he want to cum. Taking his fingers out of your pussy he rubs your clit in circular motions.

Growing desperate he's begging for you to cum, its pitiful the whine that slips his mouth. It's wonderful, having such a strong man be putty in your hands. Not even properly touching him once, since you both got in the shower and he's ready to bust a nut by just the feel of your skin against his. Every small sound, rough touch with his free hand is going straight to your core. Satoru's fingers are drenched in your essence and he loves every second of it. Applying more pressure to your bundle of nerves while he keeps whispering how much he NEEDS you to cum, the band in your stomach finally snaps and you're coming and almost yelling his name. He slows down his fingers movements to give you a moment to breathe and come down from your high.

"Bed now" Gojo almost growls while reaching to turn the water off.

While you wobble a bit getting your footing you reach for a towel to dry off, and his hand stops you. "No time, I need you, and I need you now." the tall white haired male speaks against your neck.

"Toru, baby it's quick let me dry off" you quip.

Pressing his chest against your back he drags his lips against the conjunction of your neck, scraping his teeth against your skin, feeling your pulse pick up. Running his hands down the sides of your body squeezing as he made his way to your hips. Almost breathless he tells you to turn over. The moment you turn and are met with his eyes a shiver runs down your spine. He looks almost predatory, eyes sharp, pupils dilated to a point where the pretty blues you are so accustomed to see have been almost swallowed up. And you are his defenseless pray; for some reason that excites you. There's a dull throb between your legs looking up at him, wet hair clinging to his forehead, face flushed.

"Jump" and you do without hesitation. Feeling his fingers dig into the back of your thighs as he grabs you. "I'm just fucking you here, I don't want to waste more time."

Nodding your head signaling yes that's all the confirmation he needs to completely bury his cock in your cunt with one move of his hips. You feel the wind knocked out of you at the sudden feeling of being full and you wrap your arms around his neck while Gojo groans at the warm tight feeling of your walls. No matter how prepared you are it still feels like his thick cock is splitting you in two. He doesn't give you much time to get adjusted to his length, spreading his legs to stay balanced while he bounces you on his cock. Digging your nails into his shoulder blades to ground yourself you don't realize you've broken skin until you hear your boyfriend hissing.

"I-I'm s-sorry Sat-" you're able to choke out between his punishing thrusts up to you.

Shutting you up with a kiss he says against your lips "Do it again." The feeling of your nails sinking into his skin, breaking it, sends shockwaves through his body. Not used to the feeling of pain, he’s shocked on how much he’s enjoying it. The realization on how you really could destroy him and he’d still thank you is thrilling. His enemies would give anything for just a second of his vulnerability, and here he is just giving it to you without a second thought. Wanting to feel everything and anything with you he’d gladly let you do whatever you want to his body; it was yours, it belonged to you. Your walls start clenching around his cock and he throws his head back while you run your nails down his chest. "You feel amazing Angel. Do you feel good? Hm? Does my girl feel good? Oh, I bet she does with the way she's sucking me in" he gloats. Taking in a shaky breath he knows he's close to coming, so he makes his way to the sink "I'm gonna put you down Angel." Bringing his left hand to rest behind you on the sink, he cages you in with his body, using his right hand he lifts your chin up so you can look at him. You feel the sink digging against your back as he presses his sculpted body against yours. You notice his half-lidded eyes have a shine to them that takes your breath away. The humid room is starting to feel a bit suffocating, but he’s not done with you just yet. Closing your eyes at the feeling of his soft lips against yours you let yourself get lost in the feeling. He can be playful, needy or demanding; sometimes it’s a mixture of all three making it difficult to keep up. Both of his hands are now holding your face as he kisses you with fervor. Sucking and nibbling at your bottom lip, stealing your breath, thoughts, he's invading every sense of your being; and you're happy to give him anything he wants. Your lungs are feeling on fire, and he feels like he could keep going, but you pull back to give yourself a breather. Gojo repositions his hands on your hips while you take in shuddering breaths. Kissing his way down from your neck to your breast he gives them both a kiss, sucking on one of your nipples while he lightly pinches the other. You're not sure how your hand made itself at home tangled in his hair, but he doesn't mind; he never does. "Turn" he says impatiently. Leaning down you grab the edge of the sink, you feel Gojo's fingers on your waist as he guides his cock to your entrance burying himself with one move of his hips. Setting a slow pace dragging his hips back and thrusting himself back in harsher. Growing desperate at his slow pace you start moving yourself back, meeting each of his thrusts. Warm palms touching every bit of skin he can without his thrusts stopping, you feel the tip of his dick kissing your cervix deep inside you. There’s nothing he enjoys more than your flustered faced accompanied by your small whines and moans as he destroys your pussy. The way Gojo rocks his hips against yours is stealing every breath you try to take. Knuckles turning white with how hard you're gripping on to the sink to maintain yourself up and not fall flat on your face.

The mischievous man you call your boyfriend has an idea as he examines the foggy mirror. "Wipe it with your hands so you can look at yourself, pretty, look at the filthy expressions you make taking my cock" Clenching at his words you stretch to wipe the mirror but are unable to reach it properly with how hard Gojos hips are hitting the back of your thighs. Clicking his tongue at you he reaches over with his long arm -chest pressing you down to the sink- and wipes it for you. "Can't even do a simple thing like that? You're so cock drunk." Bringing your hips back to meet his thrusts you take in a sharp breath when he reaches down to roll your clit between his fingers. The long drawn out moan you let out makes him more feral. "I want you to be louder my Angel" he praises. Chest flushed against your back, you feel how his chin is digging in to your shoulder as he looks at your face on the mirror. His breathing has grown labored fighting off the need to cum.

Your lower belly feeling tighter and tighter with each swipe of his fingers. "You're gonna be a good girl and cum for me right?" and he's desperate kissing everywhere he manages to reach. "YES YES YES" practically yelling at the top of your lungs. And with some added pressure, and sweet words from him you feel yourself tipping on the edge of your orgasm. You can feel his dick pulsing inside you and something inside you snaps. You start laughing breathlessly and his eyes are wide looking at you on the mirror. And he feels like he's going to go insane. Wrapping one of his big hands around your neck, he gives you back the biggest smile he can muster and his words are vicious. "You're such a little whore, I knew it baby, filthy girl". Applying pressure to your neck, he lifts one of your legs to the counter, helping him reach deeper in you. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head as he hit that spongy spot deep in you. The restriction of air to your lungs has your mind hazy. As he keeps hitting that special place with precise thrusts it finally has you coming around his cock. White hot pleasure coursing through your entire body has you thrashing around.

Gojo throws his head back and lets a high pitched moan slip his mouth. Milky white lashes fanning over his pretty pink tinged cheeks as he closes his eyes, rutting his hips harder desperately chasing his own orgasm. Your pussy still pulsing around him fueling his desire to finish, switching between whines and moans. With quivering lips he says something before his brain can catch up and stop him. Too lost in the way your pussy is still gripping him, he pulls out to finish on your back with a loud groan. He's catching his breath when he hears your sharp breath. You turn, facing him with a bewildered look on your face. A look of confusion evident on your boyfriends face.

"What did you say?" you ask him, uncertainty in your voice. Were your ears deceiving you or did you hear correctly? Did he mean it or was it a thing spur of the moment of passion. Gojo is uncomfortably silent at your question. He looks almost frighten and that's a look that has your stomach tying itself in knots.

The strongest is currently at a loss for words and is in a state of dismay. He's still silent but moves so he can hide in the conjunction of your neck. Feeling how your heartbeat picked up. "Satoru?" Your hand coming up to touch the side of his face. "What did you say?" you ask urgently.

He's afraid of what might happen. But he means those words and he's not gonna take them back. "I love you. You do not have to say it back if"— he’s stopped mid sentence. Your eyes are misty and he’s afraid he might have said it too early and that it’s gonna scare you off. "No, wait, you really don’t—I’m—" stammering his words until you pull his face towards you kissing him in a way he’s never felt before. This feels different than the others and it’s the clash of emotions behind it that’s giving it that feeling. “I love you too”.

Pt. 1

Pt.2

Pt.4

Pt.5

[bloodreddemons]

Hazbin Hotel Episode 5-6 Hot Takes! ~

Lucifer doesn't really seem like a necessarily "good" dad or "bad" dad. He's definitely not the greatest at all but it really does suck that Charlie was pretty much isolated from him. Not completely his fault I'm sure.

I know it's obvious at this point that Lucifer & Alastor don't like each other...but you can definitely tell Alastor HATES him. His face was just stuck on stink the entire time.

To follow that up, I wonder why Alastor doesn't like Lucifer so much. Maybe it has to do with Lilith or Eve?

I like Lucifer's personality despite being the literal Devil he's actually very goofy. I don't think this was even a hot take. Lol.

Alastor saying fuck is the funniest thing in this show so far. It was actually gold. Bless him.

I hate that there was actual discourse surrounding episode 5 regarding Charlastor, and that people who hate the ship took the opportunity to either be pissed about their interactions, or celebrate that the ship is dead.

Hell's Greatest Dad was a nice song I really enjoyed it. Alastor and Lucifer sounded great.

A lot of people have already said this, but I think it's pretty obvious that Alastor was only trying to piss Lucifer off with the daughter comments. I don't think he actually sees him & Charlie as family.

Saying that Charlie can almost call Alastor Daddy was jaw dropping lol. I don't get how the ship is dead. It's definitely revived.

I fucking hate Mimzy. She's just an awful friend. She's literally that fake friend that only hits you up when you need something. I don't get how Alastor has been (hazbin) friends with her for so long. Christ.

I would've just thrown Mimzy to the Lone Sharks.

I wonder who "owns" Alastor? Most likely Lilith, that's what everybody has said. It could also possibly be Eve tho. He's definitely been working with someone.

Alastor's monster eldritch form kinda looks how a lot of us expected.

I don't get how Charlie is going to tell Lucifer, the first fallen angel EVER, and God's actual former favorite, what Heaven would say or think. He's already been there before. He knows how they work.

"More than Anything" was actually a pretty sweet song. It kinda hit close to home. Lucifer really sounded like the Angel he is.

Cherri & Sir Pentious are actually really cute. I kinda saw that one coming. Idk how they'd fuck tho. Ewwww.

Something is weird about Charlie not being on that list when they got to Heaven. Some people have speculated that she's in the wrong place. Hmmmm.

I don't really care for Sera or Emily. Idk I just don't. Sorry y'all.

"Welcome To Heaven" was such a weird gay ass song. 🤣 Why was that white ass twink priest practically moaning lmao...but the song was giving some type of backstreet boys or NSYNC.

I didn't think Lute or any of the exterminators actually had faces. That was a shock.

Even though it was already obvious to so many I was still gagged when the Vaggie Angel theory was finally confirmed. I love the way she met Charlie.

Not a hot take but I fucking hate Lute & Adam for doing Vaggie like that. She definitely didn't deserve it. All she did was spare one fucking child. They're evil.

The blackmailing Vaggie thing was very anticlimactic and dumb as fuck especially since they made Vaggie avoid being questioned. It would've been more interesting if Vaggie did what Adam said and spoke against Charlie at the meeting.

I've come to realize that Heaven is just shit and nobody knows what they're doing. The fact that they have a piece of shit like Adam up there and he himself doesn't know why he's there in the first place is very telling.

I don't think Cherri is a bad friend at all, but it was very off putting for her to constantly peer pressure Angel Dust when he's been trying to have a good streak. I get that she's a party animal and don't give a fuck but she could at least be mindful of her friend that's trying to stop their bad habits.

Angel being protective of Nifty when she was drunk was so cute. I'm happy he saved her from Val even if she didn't need it.

"You didn't know" was meh. It had some good parts I liked the overlapping of "Hell Is Forever" but thats really it.

I feel like Charlie is going to forgive Vaggie pretty quickly. I don't think this dramatic revelation of her past is going to cause that big of a rift in their relationship at all, especially with how quick they made up in episode 3.

[warismenstrualenvy]

A dead body touched with the Odour of Sanctity can’t just smell ok. It has to possess the mysterious presence of a supernaturally pleasant odour. The scents can be brief or persistent, attached to the body, grave, water the body was bathed in, or objects the person touched.  In the case of St. Padre Pio, his spectral scent of roses and pipe tobacco visited people after his death and was considered a sign of his saintly intercession. All Odours of Sanctities are described as sweet, with notes of honey, butter, roses, violets, frankincense, myrrh, pipe tobacco, jasmine, and lilies being the most frequently reported accompaniments. The scent is also always culturally specific and deeply intertwined with symbolism. (...) One of the most popular of the fragrant saints, St. Therese of Lisieux smelt of lilies, violets and roses upon her deathbed. Her most often attributed quotes is, “The splendour of the rose and the whiteness of the lily do not rob the little violet of its scent…If every tiny flower wanted to be a rose, spring would lose its loveliness”. It also should be noted that during Therese’s lifetime violet absolute was synthesized, making a material that was once the most expensive fragrance component in the world, affordable for all and the de rigueur fragrance of respectable women. To the Victorian palette, violets represented chastity, modesty, and feminine virtue. Lilies and roses also have a long association with Jesus and Mary. Therese’s Odour of Sanctity creates an olfactive tableau of Therese, the respectable modest female, alongside the Virgin Mary and Jesus.  Before 1875 however, the scent of violets would not have been readily identifiable to the general population, and no Odour of Sanctity is associated with violets in any primary sources before that time. There is also an active association between Osmogenesia and Stigmata, with the floral odour emanated from the wounds. Stigmatic Osmogenesia in every case is reported as the smell of roses, which again is deeply symbolic with the wounds of Christ. While there is no way of knowing just how many people the Odour of Sanctity was associated with, in the Late Medieval and Early Modern periods ascetic mystics make up a large population of those afflicted with this post-mortem perfume. In particularly female mystics that lived cloistered lives. These women’s bodies suffered through harsh asceticism and self-inflicted mortification. Yet through the isolation, hardship, poverty, and virginity, these mystics sought to control their bodies and transform them into sacred vessels. It, therefore, makes sense from their perspective that, if successful, the discarded vessels of these perfected souls should already be touched by a whiff of Paradise. The association of the Odour of Sanctity with cloistered women parallels the profane eroticism of the earthly woman with the chaste eroticism of the sacred woman; while the worldly woman’s corpse corrupts by its nature and stinks, so the heavenly woman’s body remains pure and fragrant. However, the conversation is still about a woman’s body.

Nuri McBride, The Odour of Sanctity: When the Dead Smell Divine

[avengersassemble123]

Gift of remembrance

Pairing: Sanzu Haruchiyo x reader (Bonten arc - slight spoilers ahead)

Genre: Fluff, Heartwarming, (Bonten Sanzu behaviour ig)

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Im also planning to gift him the video game he had always wanted and maybe hold a surprise date night for him." Your best friend explained, as she talked about surprising her husband on their anniversary. "Aww (y/bf), thats so sweet. I'm sure your husband would love it." you complimented as we chatted and hung out for a while.

By evening you had returned home as you made way into the bathroom to get freshened up. You then changed into a new pair of clothes, as you went into the kitchen to reheat the food, when you heard your house's door open, signalling your significant other's arrival.

"I'm home." You heard your boyfriend speak, before some amount of shuffling and some moments of silence, before you felt arms wrap around your waist, "Hey baby." you acknowledged as Sanzu buried his face into your neck, as his muffled voice spoke, "Hey babe, missed you" You chuckled, as you tried to wriggle yourself out of his grip, "Had a long day? Go take a shower and tell me about it because you stink of sweat and i just freshened up."

"What if i don't want to?"

"Ill drag you there myself."

"Aww you're no fun, you wound me baby"

You rolled your eyes before pushing him towards you two's room, as he cackled on his way. After he freshened up, you both sat on the living room couch with your dinner, talking about each other's day and today's gossips from both of yours' workplaces, before the topic of your best friend came up.

"-and that's how she plans to surprise him."You finished explaining, as you finish off your food with the last bite, while your boyfriend listened patiently, before a sly grin appeared on his face,

"Well I've done a lot of romantic things for you. How come you've never done anything romantic for me?" Sanzu asked teasingly, poking your waist.

"'i do." You defended, as you whined dramatically.

"Oh yea? Name one."

" I can name a few-"

"Sex doesn't count."

"Oh"

You visible deflated, as you squinted your eyes, thinking what romantic thing have you done for him.

"Well what about the bed and breakfast you had in the beach house you rented from Rindou?"

"Well, technically i took you there, all you did-"

"Yea i know what i did." I stopped him mid sentence, as i slightly felt my face warm, but realising it was not exactly a romantic gesture without 'engagement of bodies'.

"I bet Rindou had to throw out that rocking chair." Sanzu snorted, giggling shamelessly, while you kicked him slightly, embarrassed.

"Hey I can be romantic when i want to." You defended.

"Fine." Sanzu shrugged, "But also not true" Sanzu retorted, teasing you slightly, making you roll your eyes.

"Okay, just you wait and see. I will romance your freaking ass off." you challenged, while Sanzu snorted.

"Hmm, i wonder how a baby like you would actually manage to romance a high profile yakuza member like your sexy partner." Sanzu bullied you, as he got up the couch to wash his plate in the sink, while you gave him the middle finger.

---------

"Well i know its unlikely for me to call you, but thank you so much for taking some time off from your schedule and coming over." You said, as you invited your guest over into the house.

"Well you called the right person fortunately, plus its a real surprise when a person like you is trying to 'seduce' a freak of a being like Sanzu." Kokonoi explained, as he walked in and invited himself over your couch.

"Ok so I've been really struggling with this, and you are the only closest person i know who knows Sanzu well, and has somewhat of an idea on the choices of gifts, than the rest of my options. You know what i mean." I said, as Kokonoi stoically nodded, as he seated himself on the couch, crossing his legs, his arms over it, holding one phone. He brushed his white hair back before continuing,

"Well the quickest way to a man's heart like Sanzu's is thr-"

"Pants. But Sanzu said sex doesn't count." I answered, as i got glasses of wine for both of us.

Kokonoi, looked at you blinking, his lips pursed, before taking a glass from your hand, "Aww you poor thing. You had one arrow in your quiver and you just can't use it." He nodded his head in understanding, while you replied back with a deflated nod.

"Well how about trying to cook something for him?" Well, its kind of hard for both of us to be present at home itself most of the time due to our works, and i wanted to do something different."

Kokonoi breathed out a deep sigh, "If this was some ordinary person, either this would've been easy to give advises, or i wouldn't have bothered showing up in the first place. But this is Sanzu, we are talking about. Nothing is normal with him, making me still hard to imagine that you managed to end up with him of all the people available in the whole of Japan, let alone the world. " Kokonoi sipped the wine, before continuing, "And i also want to see how this surprise and Sanzu's reaction turns out, and if the 'rapid dog' himself is capable of expressing emotions other than for our boss"

"Kokonoi.." i spoke out his name, making him raise his hands in surrender, "No offense sweetie. Anyways back to the topic."

"(NAME), if you truly want to be romantic, then this stuff need to come from withing you."

"I know, but its just so hard, I don't know why."

"I guess its probably because you never had to do this stuff because you're young and beautiful, and men, including Sanzu, must've thrown themselves at you." Kokonoi replied.

You pursed my lips, nodding in understanding before speaking up, "Yea I'm trying to feel sad about it, but i just can't."

"Thought so." Kokonoi rubbed his fingers at the bridge of his nose, "I can see why you two go well together."

---------

You and Sanzu were having a candle light dinner at your place itself, as you both chatted. "Have to say, i didn't expect you to manage this surprise without me knowing. And its coming from you of all people" Sanzu teased.

"Well, only learned from the best, and of course, i didn't forget my promise." You replied back.

As you both finished your dinner, you pointed your fork at him, "Alright Mr. Haruchiyo. Get ready because a crap storm of romance is coming your way."

Haruchiyo dramatically gasped, as he held his chest by one hand, "More romance? Stop it, you're gonna make me cry, sweet cheeks."

You stood up, as you smiled slyly, before walking towards the counter, picking up a small weaved basked.

"Sanzu smirked, as laid back on the chair, man spreading, his one hand on the table, while the other holding his face, rubbing his chin, squinting his eyes at you amused. "You seem pretty confident."

"Oh I am."

You then started dropping rose petals from the basket to the floor, making a path, "Maybe if you'll follow this trail, you'll know why."

"Ohh rose petals. Well now I'm just more excited for my girl's surprise." Sanzu said, whistling, slightly impressed, as he stood up and started following you.

As you led him towards both yours bedroom, he was met with a candle lit decorated room, "Wow baby, you really are pulling all the strings today."

You then set down the basket before picking up the wrapped gift placed on the bed, before gesturing it towards him, "Ok so i gave this a lot of thought, and i found something that might show you how much I love you."

Sanzu took the gift from your hands, before tearing the wrapper off and seeing the content inside it. His eyebrows slightly furrowed for a second before returning back normal, "Oh wow.."

"Its the ring which you had been eyeing for a while when you had spotted it randomly while you were out on a mission, and had told me about it that day, and i know how you like these kind of stuff, so i just thought maybe i could gift you something like this." You said with a smile, while you waited excitedly for his reaction.

Sanzu raised his eyebrows as he nodded and opened his mouth for a few seconds, before looking at you and giving you a smile, "I-its great. Thank you baby." He said, as kept on smiling, and looking at his gift.

You looked at him with confusion, as you had known him long enough to know something was wrong with his reaction. Even if Sanzu was Bonten's No.2, only few people could figure him out enough, if not all, and that included his boss Mikey, his brother Takeomi, and now you. His reaction could fool anyone, but you had dated and known him long enough to know.

Your smile deflated, before your hands fell to your side, as your tone changed, "What?"

"Nothing. I love it sweet cheeks." Sanzu said, as he held the gift in his one hand, while he wrapped his other hand around your waist, his face nearing yours, as he gave you a seductive smile. But you knew him better.

"No. Something's going on." You said, as you looked towards the gift, "Whats wrong with it. I remember you saying how you liked the ring when you had spotted your target wearing it, and that it would look better on you."

"You're right. I did say that. And here I am loving it. Especially since its a gift from you." Sanzu replied, not wavering from his stance and his usual demeanor, but then you felt him slightly furrow his eyebrows, pursing his lips, "...And that when i was returning to the headquarters a few weeks later, i spotted the same exact model in a jewellery shop...and i bought it."

You closed your eyes and faced the ceiling, groaning in frustration, as you let yourself out of his grasp and sitting on the bed dejectedly, "Oh my god...I'm the worst."

"Hey no baby, its really thoughtful." Sanzu said as he quickly set the gift beside and and reached towards you.

"No its not." You said, as you felt guilt fill you inside, "I mean, whats thoughtful is that everything you do for me." I said, my voice slightly quivering, as Sanzu sighed, as he knelt down on his knees, facing you, as he cupped your face with his one hand, while the other held your hand. "Its true baby, i did like your gift, and I'm glad that there is actually a person who cares for me like this in the whole world."

"No, its not better. Even if you work for such a dangerous organization, you still do things for me, while here I am, not even worth it, You know what, here-" You say as you stood up and went towards the closet, as Sanzu stood up.

You removed a box from your closet as you set it down on the bed, as you picked up one thing after the other. "Look here it is, here's the plane tickets you bought me when i was too poor to fly back home to visit my family, here's a necklace you got me before we were dating, and the rose you left in my windshield..just because-"

Sanzu looked at you, as you kept on ranting, as he stared between you and the box which contained all the gifts he had given you, even before and after dating.

"A-and here's the letter which you wrote me to confess your feelings after visiting me numerous times in the coffee shop i frequented regularly, all the pages of it."

Sanzu silently looked at you, too serious for his usual demeanor, matching the attitude he would have when he would be sober and in meetings with the bonten executives.

As you held and looked through the pages, Sanzu silently spoke up lowly, "I can't believe you saved all of this stuff.."

You looked up, as you looked at him in slight surprise, "Of course i did...Its you."

Sanzu stared at you for a few seconds, before reaching towards you and hugging you tightly, before kissing you lovingly, which you reciprocated with the same intensity, before breaking the kiss and hugging tightly.

"That is the most beautiful and thoughtful thing anyone has done for me, and it means a lot for me." Sanzu said, as he kissed your shoulders, still hugging you tightly while you chuckled.

You both stayed like this for a while, basking in each other's presence and warmth, before separating a while later.

Sanzu's eyes gazed at the box, a tint of smile on his scarred lips, before looking at an object in confusion, "Is that a pregnancy test?"

"Oh yea, just the first one. I didn't save them all." I shrugged, making Sanzu shrug in agreement, before diving for a kiss again, making you both fall onto the bed backwards.