#doing the most to save his demon boyfriend | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

voyter · 29 days ago

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NNN (NO NUT NOVEMBER) ! ... thanksgiving special

pairing. jeon jungkook x fem!reader

jungkook and his friends are all in on the internet's most ridiculous trend: no nut november. but you’re determined to make your boyfriend lose — and you know just how to do it.

word count. 8.9k warnings. stupid fucking nnn challenge. JUNGKOOK IS SOOO DRAMATIC IN THIS OML. competitive koo. oc being petty as fuck. oc a brat hehe. jungkook cannot lie to save his life. he fighting demons in his head. needy koo. slight crack. smut. oral (fem!receiving). MUNCH JK. dry humping. blindfolding (very brief lasts like five seconds). koo loves her boobies. unprotected sex. dom!jk (i dont usually like writing him like this but i didnt hate it).

ana's notes. happy (very late) thanksgiving !!! BETTER LATE THAN NEVER RIGHT. this was supposed to be posted after thanksgiving but i got so busy and then the writers block crept up on me :\ .. ANYWAYS i am so grateful for you guys and the support you have shown for my writing, it means a lot since this is a hobby that i love. heres a little silly smutty fic for the holidays !! keep your comments positive or say nothing at all <3

There was this utterly ridiculous trend that resurfaced on the internet like clockwork every year – No Nut November.

The viral phenomenon was a joke. Honestly, who in their right mind would actually take part in such a thing?

Well... Jungkook and his friends would.

Never ones to back down from a challenge, they had turned the trend into a full-blown competition: the last man standing would walk away with a cash prize collected from everyone who failed. And Jungkook? He wasn’t about to lose. Not to his friends. Not to anyone.

It wasn’t like he needed the money. Jungkook was doing just fine in that department, thank you very much. But the satisfaction of watching his friends begrudgingly hand over their hard earned cash, faces red with defeat? Fucking priceless. Count him in.

Unbeknownst to you, the bet was in full effect. Therefore, in preparation for what promised to be a painfully unfulfilling month, Jungkook made the most of Halloween night. His desire was overwhelming as he pulled you into his arms again and again. By the time you were both utterly spent, he’d taken you three times — round after relentless round, ensuring he had no regrets before the clock struck midnight.

It was all part of his plan: to have you as many times as he possibly could before November hit and he couldn’t have you at all. He was dead serious about this challenge. Winning was secondary — what mattered most was that he didn’t lose.

By the first week of November — just five days in — Jungkook had been doing surprisingly well. His restraint was impressive, and he’d managed to keep his touches brief and calculated. The physical contact between you two had been limited to sweet, innocent moments: the kisses you shared when he left and came home from work, the soft pecks exchanged before falling asleep, or the comforting warmth of cuddling. None of it lingered too long, and Jungkook was acutely aware of how easily even the smallest touch could spiral into something much harder to resist.

But Jungkook’s plan didn’t seem to work so well after all. As the week drew closer to its end, you began to get eager.

Your arms would wrap around his waist from behind, your chest pressing against his back as you left featherlight kisses against the nape of his neck. Each one sent a shiver down his spine, your breath warm and teasing against his skin. Your fingers trailed along his arms and shoulders a little longer than usual, like they couldn’t bear to part from him. When you kissed him, your lips lingered just a second too long, brushing against his with a softness that made his heart pound and his resolve crumble.

And Jungkook — poor, stubborn Jungkook — felt the strain of holding himself back with every passing moment.

The tension in his body was unmistakable. His jaw clenched, his hands fisted at his sides, as if anchoring himself in place was the only way to resist you. But it was getting harder. Your every move — a tilt of your head, a brush of your fingers, the soft hum of your laughter — was a calculated test of his willpower.

There were times where his thumb hovered over the group chat. His mind screamed at him to type out the words, to admit defeat, to let it all go so he could have you the way he so desperately craved.

But he didn’t.

He kept his composure, though it was a battle he felt he was losing by the second. Temptation clung to him like a warm, enticing embrace, your every move a test of his self control. You were irresistible, and he knew it. Hell, even the fucking dickwad of a neighbor — the one who always found a reason to greet you while mugging Jungkook — knew it. But as much as he wanted to give in, Jungkook had to tread carefully. Ignoring you completely would be suspicious, and pulling away would be totally out of character. You’d see right through him.

So he found a fine line to walk, a delicate balance: giving you just enough to keep you satisfied while keeping his own burning desires tightly in check. A heated makeout session here, his hand squeezing your ass there — little gestures that made everything feel normal. Just enough to keep you from noticing anything was off, but never enough to let things spiral out of control.

The thought of explaining the ridiculous bet to you was out of the question — he wasn’t about to tell you he’d willingly signed up to not get his cock wet for a whole month. So instead, he silently resolved to endure.

It wasn’t easy. Hell, it was torture. But the thought of losing to his friends? That was even worse. Their smug faces, the relentless teasing — it was unthinkable. Jungkook would rather give himself the worst case of blue balls imaginable than admit defeat.

But just as the next week was about to begin, Jungkook’s willpower met its match.

At night, Jungkook stuck to his usual routine. He brushed his teeth, washed his face, and climbed into bed. He scrolled aimlessly through his TikTok for you page, waiting for you to finish up in the bathroom and join him. It was the same comforting ritual as always.

Usually, when you slipped into bed, he’d put his phone down immediately. Without a word, he’d shift closer, press his chest to your back, tangle your legs together, and throw a protective arm over your waist. It was an unspoken rhythm you both loved, the closeness of his warmth pulling you both into peaceful sleep.

But tonight, something felt different.

It had been a long week — too long. You hadn’t had him, hadn’t felt his touch, hadn’t been able to drown in the comfort of him. And tonight, the ache of missing him was unbearable. You needed him, desperately.

As you stepped out of the bathroom, the soft light from the lamp illuminated him sprawled across the bed. His focus was on his phone, completely oblivious to you — but your attention was elsewhere.

The thin material of his sweatpants did nothing to hide the outline of his cock, pressing firmly against the fabric as he lay there in complete ease. It was almost unfair how effortlessly attractive he looked.

And just like that, the last of your restraint snapped.

You didn’t even try to play coy. Not tonight. Not when every fiber of your being screamed for him, for his touch, for his warmth.

You crawled onto the bed with purpose, straddling his hips in one smooth motion. Jungkook tensed beneath you, his phone slipping from his hand onto the mattress. His dark eyes met yours, wide with surprise, but the second your lips captured his, you felt him relax into the kiss.

It didn’t take long for your lips to wander. From his mouth to his jaw, each kiss slower and deeper than the last. That’s when he knew.

This wasn’t going to end with a few kisses.

“It’s getting late,” he murmured, his voice breathy, like he was trying to convince himself more than you.

“Mhm,” you hummed, your lips trailing down his neck, suckling gently at the spot you knew made him shudder.

“We should go to sleep,” he tried again, though his words sounded more like a plea than an order.

“Don’t wanna,” you whispered against his skin, your hand sliding down between your bodies, cupping the hardening length beneath his sweatpants.

The guttural moan that tore from his lips was instant, raw, and uncontrollable. His reaction was visceral, his hands flying to your hips to still you, but it was too late. That single touch had ignited something primal in him.

With a sudden movement, he flipped you onto your back, his hands capturing your wrists and pinning them firmly above your head.

“Why do you never listen to me?” he said through clenched teeth. His frustration of trying to compose his restraint thinning. Why won’t you let him win? His face was so close to yours that the tip of his nose brushed against yours, his breath warm and uneven against your lips.

“Love pissing you off,” you shot back, your grin wicked as your eyes gleamed with mischief. You tilted your head slightly, your voice dropping into something softer, sultrier. “Makes me wet.”

“Brat,” he spat. His grip on your wrists tightened just slightly, his jaw clenching as if holding himself back took everything he had.

To you, it was all in good fun — a playful game, harmless teasing. But to Jungkook? It was sweet, unrelenting torment. Every kiss you pressed to his skin, every soft laugh that spilled from your lips, and every calculated touch you offered worked to chip away at his resolve, unraveling him one agonizing piece at a time.

He wanted to be strong, to resist, to uphold his own ridiculous self imposed boundaries. But how could he? How could he lay down beside you and simply go to sleep when your every movement, every sound, every look begged him to surrender? His body betrayed him first, drawn to you like a magnet, unable to keep his distance. The tension in his muscles, the sharp hitch of his breath every time you touched him �� it all screamed of a man teetering on the edge of self control.

Jungkook swallowed hard, his gaze flickering over you, taking in the way your lips curled into a smile that was equal parts innocent and dangerous. He hated how much you affected him, but at the same time, he craved it. Every fiber of his being ached for you — your warmth, your softness, the way you felt against him. He knew he was doomed the second you whispered his name, voice laced with need.

Giving in wasn’t just inevitable; it was everything he wanted. And as much as he’d tried to fight it, there was no denying you. Not now, not ever.

“Fuck,” he whispers, his voice raw, laced with a pain so desperate it borders on pitiful. His head drops, forehead pressing against your sternum, his breath hot and uneven against your skin. It’s as if he’s trying to ground himself, clinging to the fragile threads of control slipping through his fingers.

For a moment, he stays there, his breath warm against your skin, his body taut with tension. Then, slowly, he lifts his head, meeting your gaze with eyes darkened by lust and want, swirling with a need so intense it makes your stomach all jittery. His cheeks are flushed, the faintest rosy tint blooming across his face and staining the tips of his ears. He looks utterly undone, vulnerable in a way that steals the air from your lungs.

Before he could think twice, his lips crashed against yours in a feverish kiss, devouring you like you were his favorite candy — sweet, irresistible, and utterly addictive. He poured everything into that kiss, every ounce of frustration and need, as if losing himself in you was the only thing that mattered.

His lips began to trail south, brushing along the curve of your jaw before dipping down to the sensitive hollow of your neck. Each press of his lips left a trail of heat on your skin, and your breath hitched, a soft sound that sent a rush of satisfaction through him. He didn’t stop, didn’t falter as his hands moved to the hem of your shirt — no, his shirt. You always stole his shirts for bed, and as much as he teased you about it, he loved seeing you in them.

He pulled the fabric up, lifting it just beneath your chin and exposing your bare chest. Your breasts, freed from the confines of the shirt, bounced softly back into place, and Jungkook’s breath caught. His dark eyes locked onto the sight, a low groan rumbling in his chest as his hands instinctively cupped them, squeezing gently, pushing them together as if appreciating every inch of you.

Unable to stop himself, he buried his face in the softness, his nose stuffed in between your tits, breathing you in like you were the only thing keeping him grounded.

“Kook!” you giggled, your voice light and teasing, pulling him back just slightly from the haze of his desire. Your hands reached down, cupping his face and tilting it upward until his eyes met yours.

“Prettiest titties ever,” he murmured, his voice low and reverent. He leaned forward to press a tender kiss to one breast, his eyes never leaving yours.

Your lips curved into a warm smile, and your thumb traced softly over the scar on the apple of his cheek. The tender moment was fleeting, though, as Jungkook’s mouth found its way to your chest, his lips wrapping around one of your nipples. His tongue flicked against the sensitive peak, drawing a sharp wave of pleasure through your body. You bit down on your bottom lip, trying — and failing — to stifle the moan that bubbled in your throat.

Your hands moved instinctively, brushing back the dark strands of hair that had fallen over his forehead. Your touch was soft, almost reverent, as you gazed down at him. The sight of Jungkook — cheeks flushed, lashes kissing his cheeks as he lost himself in you, his lips tugging gently at your sensitive flesh — made your heart race and your body ache with want.

He let out a low hum against your skin, the vibration sending a delicious shiver cascading down your spine. His tongue swirled around your nipple with a slow, deliberate rhythm, each motion igniting sparks of pleasure that left you breathless. His focus was unrelenting, his attention on you so singular it made your toes curl. The warmth of his saliva mixed with the heat of your skin, creating a sensation that was utterly intoxicating.

You let out a quiet gasp, your fingers tugging gently at his raven hair, earning a soft groan from him in response. Jungkook didn’t stop, his lips worshiping you like you were the only thing that mattered.

But as his mouth continued its ministrations, Jungkook couldn’t ignore the ache building in him. His cock throbbed, painfully hard and straining against his sweats, begging for relief. The urge to push everything aside and lose himself in you was overwhelming.

Maybe he could lose. Maybe he could just not tell them.

No. That wasn’t fair, and Jungkook hated lying — especially to his best friends.

But fuck, you weren’t making this easy for him.

With your pretty, soft boobs. Your sweet, irresistible lips. The way you tasted, the way you sounded.

He released your nipple with an audible pop, leaving your skin glistening and flushed from his attention. His lips lingered, warm and damp, as if tethered by an invisible string, reluctant to part. Then, slowly, he began his descent, tracing a line of soft, deliberate kisses down your stomach. Each press of his lips was unhurried, almost worshipful, leaving a trail of fire in its wake as anticipation tightened in your core.

When he reached the waistband of your panties, his movements paused. His lips hovered just above the fabric, warm breath teasing your skin. He glanced up at you, eyes hooded and dark with want, as if searching your face for permission to continue. The moment felt suspended, heavy with tension, before he shifted his attention lower, redirecting his kisses to the delicate, sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

His pace was maddening, each kiss a whisper against your skin, igniting every nerve and sending shivers rippling through you. His lips barely grazed you, his touch so featherlight it felt almost cruel, building the pressure inside you until it was nearly unbearable.

Then he saw it. The damp patch on your panties. His movements stilled for a moment, the sight pulling a soft moan from his lips, thick with need.

"Fuck me," he muttered under his breath, as if meant more for himself than for you. His voice was strained, low and raw, betraying the war raging inside him.

You were blissfully unaware of the full weight of his internal struggle, the impossible battle between his ironclad resolve and the magnetic pull of you beneath him. But for Jungkook, this wasn’t just lust; it was a consuming craving, threatening to shatter the very challenge he'd sworn to uphold.

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties, his touch firm yet tantalizingly gentle as he began to slide them down your thighs. The soft fabric dragged against your skin with agonizing slowness, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. When the panties finally slipped off and landed somewhere forgotten on the floor, his gaze dropped to the apex of your thighs, and a deep, guttural groan rumbled in his chest.

Your pussy glistened in the dim light, your slick coating your folds, the evidence of your desire laid bare before him. Jungkook's tongue darted out to wet his lips as impatience flickered in his eyes. Without hesitation, he leaned in, starting with slow, deliberate licks, savoring the taste of you like a man starving.

Your breath hitched, a shudder racing through you as you glanced down at him. His dark eyes locked with yours for a brief, smoldering moment before he closed his lips around your swollen clit, sucking gently yet firmly.

A moan tore from your throat as your head tipped back, your fingers instinctively finding one of your breasts. You cupped the soft mound, your palm pressing into the supple flesh. The room filled with the sounds of your ragged breaths and the wet, sinful noises of his tongue working you over.

Jungkook's hand shot up, his fingers wrapping firmly around your wrist as he yanked it away from your breast. He possessively replaced your hand with his own. His large, tattooed hand cupped your tit, kneading the soft flesh with a firm yet reverent touch.

He lifted his head from between your thighs, his lips glistening with your slick, and his heated gaze met yours. Without a word, his free hand slid down, his middle and ring fingers gliding through your folds with expert precision. He paused for a moment, his fingers coated in your arousal, before pressing them slowly inside you.

Your breath hitched at the delicious stretch, your sopping wet heat greedily sucking him in with ease. A low, satisfied hum rumbled in his throat as he watched your body respond to his touch.

“So fucking wet," he whispered, voice thick with lust. His fingers curled slightly, stroking your walls with an unrelenting precision that had your thighs trembling.

Jungkook leaned back down, his lips latching onto your clit with a hunger that made your thighs quiver. He sucked and flicked his tongue over your sensitive bud, the wet, rhythmic sounds driving you wild. His fingers continued to thrust in and out of you, the steady, deliberate pace sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body as he curled them just right, hitting that spot that made you see stars.

His other hand stayed on your breast, groping and kneading with a firm possessiveness that left you aching for more. His thumb brushed over your nipple, pinching and rolling it between his fingers, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips.

He was everywhere — on you, in you, surrounding you. The intensity of his touch, his mouth, and his presence consumed you entirely, leaving you trembling under him as he worked your body like he was born to do it. You could feel the tension building, the coiling heat low in your belly threatening to snap as he devoured you like a man obsessed.

“Baby,” you whimper, your voice trembling, raw with need as your fingers twist into the sheets beneath you. “G- gonna cum.”

Jungkook doesn’t stop. He doesn’t slow down or falter. If anything, your words fuel him, igniting something feral inside him. He needs this — needs to feel you fall apart on his tongue, to taste every shiver and moan you can give him before he has to deny you for the rest of this painfully long month.

A low hum vibrates against your clit, and the sensation sends a fresh wave of heat surging through you, your body arching instinctively toward him. His tongue moves faster now, precise and unrelenting, flicking and circling as if the very act is his lifeline.

His fingers thrust into you, curling just right, hitting that spot inside you that makes your legs tremble and your vision blur. The rhythm is perfect, practiced, like he’s mapping your body by memory, knowing exactly how to coax you to the edge.

Another hum escapes his throat, deeper this time, resonating against you with an intensity that feels almost like a plea — an unspoken command for you to let go, to surrender completely to the pressure building inside you.

And with each stroke of his tongue and every curl of his fingers, he pushes you closer, until you’re teetering on the brink, your body burning with the promise of release.

His hand on your breast squeezes more firmly, his thumb flicking and pinching your nipple with just the right pressure, as if he knows exactly how to push you over the edge. Your hand shoots up to grab his wrist, your nails digging into his skin, while your other hand fists the sheets desperately.

Your head tips back, lips parting in a silent, breathless moan as the tension inside you finally snaps. Your thighs instinctively begin to close around Jungkook’s head, trembling as your release crashes over you in wave after blissful wave.

Your body shakes beneath him, overcome by the force of your orgasm, but Jungkook doesn’t stop. His mouth continues its sinful work on your clit, sucking and licking with unrelenting precision, while his fingers maintain their steady thrusts.

Despite the painful, throbbing ache of his cock, Jungkook finds a twisted kind of satisfaction in giving you pleasure. The way your body arches, the sounds you make, the way your nails dig into the sheets — it’s intoxicating. It fuels him, spurring him on as though your ecstasy alone is enough to soothe his own torment.

He doesn’t want to stop. Not when you’re trembling beneath him, your body so responsive to his every touch. But there’s a limit to how much you can take, and he knows it. As much as he loves pushing you to the edge, watching as you surrender completely to him, overstimulation begins to creep in, your soft whimpers turning into desperate little gasps.

Still, there’s a reluctance in him, a battle between the unyielding need to give you more and the understanding that your body can only handle so much. Even as you writhe beneath him, pleading for reprieve, there’s a part of him that aches to keep going, to hold onto this connection for just a moment longer.

But he’s Jungkook, and if there’s one thing he values more than his own desires, it’s you. The sight of you trembling, your chest heaving as you fight to steady your breath, tugs at something deeper within him. He takes a deep breath, the taste of you lingering on his tongue, and finally, he pulls back.

His lips and chin are glistening with your slick, a sinful testament to his devotion. He doesn’t bother wiping it away; instead, he leans over you, his eyes dark and heavy with satisfaction as they roam your flushed face.

“Munch,” you giggle, your voice soft and teasing as your fingers brush his hair back from his forehead.

Jungkook chuckles, the sound deep and warm, scrunching his nose in playful protest. His pretty bunny-like teeth peek out in a smile so endearing it makes your heart skip a beat.

Unable to resist, you lean in, pressing your lips against his. Your tongue brushes against his, exploring him as the taste of you still lingers on his lips. The kiss grows deeper, more heated, and you feel his hard-on pressing insistently against your thigh.

Without a second thought, your hand slides down, grabbing his cock through the fabric of his pants. He groans softly against your mouth, the sound vibrating between you.

“Mmm,” Jungkook hums, breaking the kiss as he pulls away, the warmth of his lip still lingering on yours. He stands, his movements abrupt, leaving you breathless on the bed. His lips, swollen and glistening faintly in the dim light, speak to the intensity of your embrace, but his gaze doesn’t meet yours. Instead, it darts away, like a guilty child caught red-handed. He scratches the back of his head, his posture stiff as he moves toward the bathroom door. “I think I’m gonna go shower,” he blurts out, the tension in his voice betraying his attempt at casualness.

Shower? Now? Really? His dick is literally straining against his sweats, the outline unmistakable, practically begging for attention. You can still feel the heat of him pressed against you, the way he twitched beneath you just moments ago.

He’s not serious. There’s absolutely no fucking way.

“What?” Genuine confusion coats your tone, your brows furrowed. “You always shower in the mornings.”

“I- I know, baby,” he stammers, his pitch climbing an octave as his composure unravels faster than a poorly wrapped gift. Panic flashes in his wide eyes, and his mouth hangs open, grasping for an excuse he clearly doesn’t have.

“Then what’s wrong?” you ask, your softer now, a thread of worry weaving through your tone. You sit up, the oversized shirt you’d stolen from him slipping down your chest, covering your boobs he wished he could stare at for just a second longer. “Is something going on?”

“I-” His eyes dart around the room like the answer might be written on the walls. “I’m just tired.”

Your brow arches, skepticism written all over your face. “Tired?” you echo, your face scrunching in disbelief. “You’ve never not wanted to have sex.”

Jungkook visibly winces, his ears turning a bright shade of red. Rising from the bed like it might help, he sits at the edge, his hand nervously brushing your shin. “I- I had a long day at work.”

You tilt your head. “But you love having sex after a long day,” you say, your voice tinged with confusion. “Jungkook, seriously… what’s wrong?”

He freezes, like a deer caught in headlights, his lips parting in silent panic. “Nothing!” he squeaks, his voice cracking.

You lean closer, your suspicion mounting. “Well it’s clearly something! Do I not smell good?”

His head whips toward you, his face a mixture of offense and horror. “What? You smell amazing!” he practically yells, his voice high-pitched. “Honey, I could eat you all day if you’d let me!”

“Then why are you running off like this?”

“I’m not running!” he protests, though the crack in his voice suggests otherwise. “I just- uh- need to clear my head!”

“Clear your head?” you ask, squinting at him. “From what?”

“All the thinking I’ve been doing!” he exclaims, clearly grasping at straws. “It’s... exhausting.”

You narrow your eyes, unconvinced. “Thinking about what?”

His mouth opens, but words fail him. After a moment of floundering, he groans, throwing his head back and covering his face with his hands. “You’re impossible,” he mumbles, his voice muffled behind his palms.

“And you’re a terrible liar,” you fire back. “Spill it. What’s really going on?”

He exhales deeply, dragging his hands down his face in defeat before clasping them together in front of him as if in prayer. His eyes squeeze shut, his lips pressed into a tight line. “I’m trying so hard right now,” he mutters finally, his voice low and desperate, “and you’re not making it easy.”

“Trying hard to what?” you ask, your curiosity piqued.

“To not combust right now!” he exclaims, his voice rough with need. His eyes snap open, locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart race. “You’re killing me, babe. Just... let me shower first, and then let’s just have a good night, okay?” His breath hitches, barely able to keep his composure as he watches you, a mixture of desperation and affection in his gaze.

You blink at him, your mouth slightly open, trying to piece together his words. Before you can say anything, he kisses you once more, the movement rushed and almost sheepish.

“Go to bed, honey,” he says, practically bolting for the bathroom. “I love you!”

The door shut behind him with a sharp, decisive click, followed by the distinct sound of the lock turning. It was jarring — Jungkook never locked the door. There was no reason to; it was just the two of you living together, no one else to intrude. The realization sank in quickly, a bitter confirmation that this time, he was actively shutting you out, trying to keep you from coming in and uncovering whatever was weighing on him. You sat there, frozen, staring at the closed door in stunned silence.

Whatever it was, one thing was clear — you weren’t letting this slide. You were going to figure out what was going on with your boyfriend if it was the last thing you did.

After that night, you kept your distance.

Jungkook hated it. He hated the silence, the lack of your warmth, the way you avoided his touch. But he couldn’t blame you. He knew he was the root of the problem — he had fucked up that night. He should’ve been smoother, handled it better, but he completely blew it. Jungkook was good at many things. Lying was not one of them.

For a few days, you gave him the silent treatment. When he leaned in for a kiss before heading to work, you turned your face, leaving him with nothing but a peck on your cheek. The lack of communication was agonizing, eating away at him every time he caught your cold glances. But you were petty as fuck, and he knew it. You weren’t about to kiss his ass — not when it was obvious he’d lied to you that night. If he didn’t want to talk to you, then you weren’t going to talk to him.

When you were alone — at work, lying in bed, or just lost in thought — your mind spiraled. What could he possibly be hiding? The thought haunted you, gnawing at the edges of your sanity. Was he cheating on you? The idea felt impossible, unthinkable. Your Jungkook would never… or at least, that’s what you wanted to believe. But his strange behavior, the evasiveness, planted seeds of doubt you couldn’t ignore. The very thought made you feel sick to your stomach, but the ache of curiosity refused to leave you alone.

You needed answers. And if Jungkook wasn’t going to give them to you, you decided to go to the one person who knew him best.

you [3:15 pm]: what is wrong with my boyfriend ??

jimin [3:17 pm]: That sounds like a question you should be asking your boyfriend, don't you think?

you [3:17 pm]: I KNOW YOU KNOW SOMETHING.

jimin [3:18 pm]: WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT???

you [3:18 pm]: whats her name

jimin [3:18 pm]: Who??

you [3:19 pm]: HIS SIDE BITCH

jimin [3:19 pm]: GIRL WHAT

jimin [3:19 pm]: You think he’s cheating on you?

you [3:23 pm]: is he ?? just tell me so i can save myself the humiliation pls

jimin [3:23 pm]: Bro no he would never

jimin [3:23 pm]: I’d chop his dick off and then kill the girl if he did

jimin [3:23 pm]: What makes you even think that in the first place?

you [3:24 pm]: hes acting weirdddd :(

you [3:24 pm]: i was trying to fuck him a few nights ago but he wouldnt let me touch him

jimin [3:25 pm]: First of all ew

jimin [3:25 pm]: Second of all

you [3:28 pm]: SECOND OF ALL ????

jimin [3:30 pm]: 😂😂😂

If you weren’t pissed at Jungkook before, you definitely were now.

After talking to Jimin, you finally learned the truth about the challenge. It wasn’t even the fact that Jungkook had hidden it from you that irritated you most — it was the challenge itself and his ridiculous competitive spirit. Why did he have to be such a sore loser?

According to Jimin, five of the seven participants had already been knocked out. Seokjin and Yoongi, being married men, didn’t stand a chance — they were bound to lose. Namjoon, like Jungkook, was in a committed relationship, but unlike him, Namjoon had the good sense not to put himself through that kind of pain just to preserve his pride. Hoseok and Taehyung? They were notorious party addicts — losing was inevitable for them.

Now, it was down to just Jungkook and Jimin. And, of course, Jungkook’s competitive streak wouldn’t let him back down, no matter how ridiculous the stakes were. The thought made your blood boil. How could he have dragged himself — and by extension, you — into this mess?

You didn’t confront Jungkook about what you’d learned from Jimin, though you did drop the silent treatment act. Instead, you decided to take a different approach — one far more devious than simply ignoring him.

Even with the heater running, the November chill still lingered in the air, but it didn’t stop you from dressing provocatively around the apartment. You roamed in short shorts, sometimes just your underwear, paired with a silk camisole that left little to the imagination. The thin fabric did nothing to hide your hard nipples, which poked against the material as you moved about. Jungkook would notice, of course — he’d grope your ass or give you a quick kiss goodbye before heading to work — but that was it.

When he was away, whether at work or hanging out with his friends, you upped the ante. You sent him pictures of yourself in matching lingerie sets, always in his favorite color, knowing how much he loved them. Sometimes you sent something more daring — nudes that left nothing to the imagination. Usually, those photos had him texting back immediately, promising to deal with you as soon as he got home.

But this time, his responses were different. Short. Terse. Instead of giving in, he’d simply tell you to stop.

Frustration boiled over each time you read his dismissive replies. You groaned and threw your phone onto the bed in defeat. Why wouldn’t he just give in already? You wanted him so badly, and you refused to even touch yourself because what you craved was him — his hands, his mouth, his dick.

If teasing him over the phone wasn’t working, you decided it was time to take things up a notch. One night, when you heard the shower running, you didn’t hesitate. Stripping off your clothes, you quietly stepped into the bathroom. The steam swirled around you as you opened the shower door and stepped in.

Jungkook froze the moment he saw you. His wide eyes scanned you from head to toe, lingering on your curves as if he hadn’t seen them countless times before. His jaw tightened, his chest heaving as his restraint wavered. Then, with a groan of frustration, he threw his head back against the shower wall, his eyes squeezed shut as if trying to block out the temptation in front of him.

Don’t give in. Don’t give in. Don’t give in.

Despite his impressive self-control, his body betrayed him. His cock stood stiff and proud between you, a silent plea for attention. But no matter how much you pressed closer, your skin grazing his, or how boldly you touched yourself in front of him, he didn’t break.

With a stoic determination that only fueled your frustration, he focused on washing off, his movements precise and distant, as though ignoring the tension hanging thick in the air. And just when you hoped he’d finally push past his limits, he’d step out of the shower, leaving you behind in the steam, your desire unfulfilled.

It was maddening. Teasing him was supposed to work — it always worked. And while you were determined to push him until he snapped, you had to admit, his composure was far better than you’d anticipated.

It was just days before Thanksgiving, which meant this painfully long month was finally nearing its end. But you were done waiting. Done teasing. The ache in your body had grown unbearable, a constant, gnawing need for him that no amount of patience could soothe.

You were going to have him tonight, or you were going to actually die.

Jungkook had a day off tomorrow, so he was sprawled on the couch, completely absorbed in his Nintendo game. His focus was unwavering, his brows furrowed in concentration as the soft clicks of the buttons filled the room.

Dressed in a matching lacy black set that left little to the imagination, you moved silently behind him, your determination unwavering. Gently, you placed your hands on his broad shoulders, your fingertips tracing soft patterns over the fabric of his shirt. He didn’t flinch, didn’t even glance up, much too engrossed in the virtual world on his screen.

But then you leaned down, your lips brushing against the side of his neck. The soft, teasing kisses trailed along his skin, featherlight yet deliberate, leaving a warm path behind. You felt the slightest hitch in his breathing, a telltale sign that despite his effort to remain focused, you were beginning to unravel him.

His eyes fluttered shut, his focus on the game completely shattered as his head tipped to the side, exposing more of his neck to your eager lips. His lips parted, heavy breaths escaping him, each exhale laced with a vulnerability you rarely saw.

“Baby…” he moaned breathily, his voice low and strained, warning you.

“Shh,” you whispered, your lips brushing the shell of his ear. Your voice was soft, commanding, and it sent a shiver rippling through him. You felt his resolve beginning to crack, the tension in his body shifting as your hands slid down, teasing the line between tenderness and temptation.

Pulling away, you reached for the tie you had stolen from his drawer earlier. With a deliberate slowness, you brought it up to his eyes, slipping it over and covering his vision.

“What-” he began, his voice tinged with confusion as his hands instinctively moved to stop you.

But you were quicker, gripping his wrists to still him. Leaning in close, your lips brushed against his ear as you whispered, “I know about your stupid challenge, Jungkook.”

His body tensed beneath you, the air between you heavy with tension. His breaths came uneven now, a mixture of guilt, surprise, and something else simmering just beneath the surface.

“Let me explain-” he started, his voice edged with desperation.

“No,” you cut him off, your tone firm but quiet. “It’s too late for that now.”

You secured the tie around his eyes, knotting it with careful precision. The soft fabric sat snugly against his skin, cloaking his vision completely. His lips parted as if to protest, but he stopped himself, seemingly caught between resisting and surrendering to whatever you had planned.

Rounding the couch, you reached down and plucked the device from his hands, setting it aside on the coffee table without a second thought. His body went rigid beneath you, his breath hitching as you settled in. The unmistakable hardness of his cock pressed against you, igniting a spark of satisfaction that curled your lips into a smirk. Slowly, you began to move, rocking your hips against his in steady, purposeful motions, grinding into him just enough to draw a reaction.

“Do you know how much I missed you, Kook?” you murmured, your voice dripping with need as your lips hovered near his ear. “Missed your pretty cock… my fingers could never give me the satisfaction you do.”

His bottom lip was caught between his teeth, the silver of his piercings glinting under the warm light, drawing your eyes like a magnet. That perfect little mole just beneath his lip was on full display, a teasing reminder of how irresistible he looked like this — teetering on the edge of control.

His lips parted as a soft, breathy moan escaped, the sound low and unrestrained. It sent a shiver straight through you. His hands, no longer hesitant, slid to your hips, gripping firmly as he guided your movements. Each roll of your hips against his was deliberate, his touch coaxing you to grind harder, deeper, until the friction was almost too much to bear.

You hooked a finger into the fabric covering his eyes, tugging it free with a teasing slowness. His lashes fluttered as he blinked, his vision gradually clearing — and then he saw you. Nothing but his favorite set of yours graced your body, clinging to your curves in all the right ways.

A low, breathless please escaped his lips, muttered more to himself than to you, as if trying desperately to maintain his composure. His eyes squeezed shut, and he turned his head away, a feeble attempt to resist you.

But you weren’t having that. Your hand shot out, firm but gentle, cupping his chin and turning his face back toward you. His eyes snapped open, dark and hungry, as you reached behind you, unclasping the delicate hook of your bra. The straps slipped from your arms, the fabric discarded behind you without a care.

Your hands came up, cupping your bare breasts, teasing yourself as his gaze darkened. His restraint frayed before your eyes as his hips bucked up into yours, seeking friction, a desperate need taking over. His jaw tightened, and his tongue darted out to wet his lips, a clear sign of how much he craved you.

Those should be his hands, not yours.

His hand twitched, reaching out instinctively, but you caught his wrist, guiding it purposefully down your body. Your gaze never wavered from his, locking him in place as you slid his hand beneath the waistband of your underwear. His fingers pressed against the soaked fabric, and his breath hitched when he felt just how wet you were. The slickness coated your plush lips, a testament to how badly you wanted him.

“Honey…” he warned, his voice shaky and breathless, teetering on the edge of control.

“Please, Kook,” you whispered, your tone laced with desperation. “Fuck me tonight, or I’ll lose my mind. It’s been weeks. Don’t you miss me as much as I miss you?”

Your plea hung between you, thick with need and longing. His jaw clenched, and you could see the internal battle playing out in his dark eyes as his fingers twitched against you, his restraint unraveling with each passing second.

How was he supposed to get up and walk away with his cock straining painfully against his sweats, and you like this, laid out before him? His hand was still buried in your underwear, fingers sliding effortlessly over your slick folds, forming a V as they trailed up and found your clit. His jaw clenched at the way your body shuddered beneath his touch, the quiet moan slipping from your lips like a siren’s call.

And then there was you — your smaller hands kneading your soft, perfect tits, the ones he loved so much, the sight alone nearly undoing him. The way you whimpered, the way your body responded to him, had his restraint crumbling to dust.

This was it — his breaking point.

He didn’t care about the fucking challenge anymore. Nothing mattered except you.

It was like a switch flipped inside him. In a sudden, fluid motion, he grabbed your waist, lifting you effortlessly as he laid you down on the couch. His broad frame hovered above you, the way you’d missed for so long. His dark eyes were locked onto yours, blazing with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

He didn’t waste time. You were already soaked, your body more than ready for him. No need for extra preparation — he knew he’d slide right in. With one hand, he freed his cock, giving it a few languid strokes, his eyes never leaving yours. He hooked a finger under the edge of your panties, tugging them to the side, baring your pretty, dripping pussy. He couldn’t wait to get inside it. The flushed tip glistened, teasing your entrance for a heartbeat before he pressed forward, the head sinking in.

A sharp gasp escaped both your lips, the shared sensation so overwhelming it felt as if you were experiencing each other for the first time all over again. Jungkook moved slowly at first, his cock stretching you inch by inch, filling you with deliberate care. His brows furrowed, and his jaw tightened as he savored every moment, every inch of warmth he’d been denying himself for far too long.

But restraint wasn’t his strong suit tonight. The need coursing through him was too much to bear. His movements quickened, his hips snapping forward with purpose. The wet, obscene sounds of skin meeting skin filled the room as his pelvis slapped against the back of your thighs. The steady rhythm of his thrusts deepened, each one more urgent than the last, driving both of you closer to the edge.

His upper body lifted off of you, and with a swift motion, he pulled his shirt over his head. The sight of his broad, muscular frame sent a jolt of heat straight to your core. He was absolutely stunning, every inch of him on display — his skin glowing under the dim light.

His arm was covered in intricate tattoos, the ink curling around his bicep like a story you wanted to read. His chest was thick and broad, with a layer of muscle that made your fingers itch to trace every curve. His arms were solid and meaty, a strength you could feel even from just looking at him.

You couldn’t help yourself. Your hand moved instinctively, running down the defined lines of his chest, your fingers grazing over the hard muscles of his stomach. His abs flexed beneath your touch, tense and firm, the warmth of his skin sending a wave of desire crashing through you. The simple touch made you want more, made you crave everything he had to offer.

But now it was Jungkook's turn to take control. With a swift motion, he caught your wrist, his grip firm as he seized your other arm and pinned it above your head. The dominance in his touch was undeniable, and you knew exactly what that meant. He always did this when he wanted to take over, to remind you who was in charge.

His hands moved quickly, grabbing one of your legs and effortlessly throwing it over his shoulder. You gasped at the sudden shift, your body bent in half, your chest pressed against him, leaving you exposed and vulnerable. His face hovered just inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin as he studied you.

A small whimper escaped your lips at the stretch, your body not as flexible as you'd like, but that discomfort was fleeting. It quickly morphed into something else — pleasure, intense and consuming — as his brutal thrusts began again, filling you completely.

He was relentless, each movement pulling another gasp from you. His breath came out in ragged bursts, his voice low and laced with command. "You never listen to me, do you? Huh, you brat?" His words were a breathy growl, like a warning. "Just had to get fucked."

You couldn’t find the words to respond, your mind completely consumed by the overwhelming pleasure. Every inch of your body was alive with sensation, making it impossible to form coherent thoughts. Instead, soft moans and breathless hums spilled from your lips, your chest rising and falling rapidly as his thrusts deepened, each one hitting you harder than the last.

Your body arched into him instinctively, eager to feel more, to give in to the rhythm he set. The tension was building, spiraling higher and higher with each movement, each sound leaving your mouth a mix of pleasure and need. You couldn’t think, couldn’t focus on anything but the way he was making you feel, his hands and his body taking you exactly how he wanted.

"You made this so hard for me, baby." His voice was breathless, low and laced with desire as his thrusts didn’t falter. "Can’t resist you. Too fucking pretty to not touch." He spoke as though he couldn’t control himself, his words slipping out between harsh breaths, his hands gripping your body with barely restrained urgency.

“M’already so close, Kook,” you moaned, your voice shaky with the intensity of the pleasure coursing through you. The pressure inside you was building, so close to release, but you needed him to push you over the edge.

“Yeah?” His gaze darkened, his hips snapping into yours with even more force. “Show me. Let me feel you, please.” His words were more than a plea — they were a command, a desperate need for you to let go so he could feel every inch of your pleasure. It’s been so long since he felt you. He wants to feel you. Needs to feel you.

With each punishing thrust, your breasts bounce uncontrollably, catching Jungkook's undivided attention. His hooded eyes are glued to them, pupils blown wide with lust, as if he's seeing something so utterly captivating it leaves him in a trance. The way they move, the way your body responds to him — it’s driving him wild. His tongue flicks over his lips as he lets out a low groan, jaw tightening, the need to mark you overwhelming every coherent thought.

You gasp sharply, a broken moan escaping your lips as your orgasm slams into you with ferocious intensity. Your body arches off the couch, your hands still pinned above your head as waves of euphoria ripple through you. Your head tilts back, exposing the long, vulnerable line of your neck, and your chest heaves as you ride out the high.

Jungkook growls when he feels your walls clench down on him, the tight grip almost sending him over the edge. “Oh, yeah,” he rasps, voice rough and deep, his hips grinding against you. “That’s it. Just like that... so fucking good.”

But he doesn’t slow down. If anything, his pace quickens, the desperate need for his own release taking over. Each thrust is brutal, precise, and deliberate, as if he’s claiming every part of you, chasing that high he knows is just within reach. His grip on your hips is bruising, holding you in place as he slams into you again and again, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the room.

Finally, with a strained groan, he pulls out abruptly, his cock slick and throbbing in his hand. He strokes himself hard, the sight of your trembling, sweat slick body beneath him sending him over the edge. His release comes in hot, thick ropes, splattering across your stomach and tits in messy, deliberate streaks.

He lets out a guttural moan, chest heaving as he watches his cum paint you like a masterpiece, dripping down your skin in glistening trails. His hand slows, and his eyes never leave the sight of you — glistening, marked, and utterly his.

Once he milks every last drop of his release, he does something that shouldn't be as devastatingly sexy as it is. Leaning down, his gaze locked onto yours with a feral intensity, he drags his tongue in a slow, deliberate stripe up your stomach, collecting his own cum. The heat of his mouth follows, traveling upward until he captures a nipple between his lips, sucking and swirling his tongue with maddening precision.

You giggle, your face flushing with heat as he releases your nipple and makes his way up to your lips. The moment his mouth connects with yours, you taste his cum on his tongue, and you can't help but moan softly into the kiss. He pulls back, resting his head on your chest with a contented sigh.

“Can’t believe you made me lose. I was so close,” he sulks, his voice laced with playful frustration.

“Jimin texted me. He gave in yesterday. You won,” you tease, your fingers softly running through his hair.

His head shoots up quickly, eyes wide like a dog hearing its name. “Seriously?”

You nod, giggling softly at his excitement.

Without warning, he stands up from the couch, pulling you with him. He scoops you up by your thighs, lifting you effortlessly into his arms.

You squeal, half-laughing, half-terrified, “What are you doing?!”

“Making up,” he grins, his voice low with promise as he strides toward the bedroom. “I’m gonna fuck you all night.”

The door clicks shut behind you, the remnants of your clothes scattered haphazardly in the living room, and the night unfurls into a whirlwind of heated kisses and passion that sweeps you both away. Jungkook’s teasing words and touch keep you on edge, but it’s the way he makes you feel — desired, cherished, and completely consumed by him — that transforms the night into something unforgettable.

You knew that this Friendsgiving would be one for the books. Jungkook wasn’t going to let any of the guys forget it. Always the bragger, that one. He’d be sure to shove it in their faces every chance he got.

And he might have won the bet, but it’s you who’s the true victor tonight.

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook imagine

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illumose · 1 month ago

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boyfriend! dean winchester • headcanon

⋆⭒˚.⋆ PAIRINGS: female reader x bf! dean winchester

⋆⭒˚.⋆ CONTENT: fluff, allusions to sex

masterlist

author’s note : requests are open

｡𖦹°‧ dean’s pretty bad at being the boyfriend type, at first. he’s not the lovey-dovey type, his life as a hunter takes up most of his time and he has a tendency to flirt with every woman he crosses paths with.

｡𖦹°‧ your relationship started out as casual sex. throughout the months, he grows accustomed to your presence, to the point that he no longer seeks out other women. he continues to flirt but never with the intent to take them home, or rather, to a shitty motel.

｡𖦹°‧ of course, he doesn’t tell you that things have changed on his side. you still believe that he sees you as a friend. all of that until he sees you with another man. and damn, his eyes turn dark green and he feels sick to his stomach. who is he, what is he to you?

｡𖦹°‧ the next day, he avoids you like the plague. he doesn’t want to be told you’re seeing someone and getting serious. he spends the whole day simmering with anger on the couch, a beer in hand. he ignores your texts and calls.

｡𖦹°‧ you’re confused as to why he’s blowing you off. your date ended terribly. it was meant to take your mind off dean, but this failed spectacularly when you realized the man had no snark or sarcasm in him. he was boring you to death so you sneaked out through the bathroom window.

｡𖦹°‧ tired of being left on seen, you show up on his doorstep. and before he can fully open the door, you do something out of character and pretty insane. you kiss him, and what a surprise, dean’s lips move against yours and his arms go around your waist.

｡𖦹°‧ he never officially asked you to be his girlfriend, and neither did you. he may not he the most romantic man out there, but he does his best to be what you need. sometimes he brings over takeout when you get too burnt out by your work to cook. he repairs your car whenever you encounter even the smallest problem. he draws you a bath when you’re on your period and your uterus commits literal murder.

｡𖦹°‧ his favorite nicknames are ��princess’ and ‘love’.

｡𖦹°‧ when you two are alone, he’s clingy. you cannot even get out of bed to pee, he’s trailing behind you, lips turned into a pout, and arms extended to trap you between his arms.

｡𖦹°‧ he’s also a big tease. even when sam’s here, he doesn’t refrain from grabbing your ass. he has probably forever scarred sam with his sexual innuendos at diner time.

｡𖦹°‧ he’s so caring. maybe it comes from his years raising sam, or his need to protect and save. but he’s always making sure that you’re safe. he brings salt over your house and gets you a knife, just in case a demon decides to attack. he teaches you how to shoot.

｡𖦹°‧ you take random car trips just to spend time together. he could drive for hours if it meant having you by his side. he loves listening to your little rants about politics or the drama between two divorced actors from Hollywood.

｡𖦹°‧ one thing he knows for sure: he wants you to be in his life forever. he cannot imagine growing old without your little comments about his possible receding hair.

#spn fanfic #supernatural imagine #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester imagine

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somnoir · 1 month ago

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Bats and Phantoms - Part 2

Part 1 | Masterpost

Wraith and Nightwing

OG Schrodinger's: A CRIMELORD IS TRYING TO BE MY SUGAR DADDY

Dandadandan: Tf

Voice of Reason: You've been in Gotham for less than a month and this happens????

Thrice Danned: Why is Danny allowed a cool boyfriend but I'm not ಠ⁠︵⁠ಠ

Voice of Reason: No

Dandadandan: No

OG Schrodinger's: LOL ¯⁠\⁠_⁠༼⁠ ⁠•́⁠ ͜⁠ʖ⁠ ⁠•̀⁠ ⁠༽⁠_⁠/⁠¯

Thrice Danned: (⁠ノ⁠｀⁠Д⁠´⁠)⁠ノ⁠彡⁠┻⁠━⁠┻

Well, for one thing, the squirthis younger brother was up to his usual bout of trouble. Not that Dan was too worried. At least Danny wasn't getting shot this time.

Traveling out of Amity Park after being simultaneously shoved into a new clone body was disorienting. Sure, the Fentons and Vlad were now pretty okay and he had his new identy and life—but that didn't change the fact that Clockwork was making him do 'community service'. What a load of bull.

What did his new job involve? Occasionally assisting the heroes of their world. Which has led him to Blüdhaven. Jazz's most recent demands was making sure Danny didn't die (or fake his death) in Gotham. But Fenton (and now Masters) luck strikes again and now he's staring at a fight between the city's local vigilante: Nightwing.

He's a pretty thing, that's for sure. Dan might actually get sick of how many times a civilian mentions that man's ass (it was amazing, he knows). But it would be creepy if 'Dante Mastere-Fenton' were to stalk the local hero.

He's got a coffee in hand when he sees Nightwing grapple away, smiling brightly at citizens that waved at him. It was peaceful... If not for the fact that gunshots banged loudly in the streets and Nightwing's line was suddenly cut.

Hero time.

Dan has been a victim to his siblings' commentary on the JL one to many times. He's seen the way Superman scoops up Lois Lane whenever she's made hostage and is dropped from a building.

Nightwing is in his arms seconds later, floating in the air while Dan carries the vigilante bridal style. He offers the obviously surprised man a grin, flashing his fangs.

"I'd ask if it hurt when you fell, but I did catch you in the end."

Dick wasn't expecting to fucking fall. He was usually light on his feet and not just anyone could cut any line that was supplied by Batman. He had prepared to crash, for his bones to break from the fall, but no. His body was pressed against hard and very much sculpted muscle and his eyes blew wide when he saw the man that was surely carved from fucking marble.

The hunk of a man that was surely bigger than Jason had almost fiery hair that reminded him of Kori's, just white. Clearly, he wasn't human. An almost teal tinge to his skin and deep crimson eyes—reallt handsome too. Also, he was flying.

He was being carried the same way Lois Lane was whenever Superman saved her from danger. Damn, was this how she felt? All giddy and kinda aroused excited?

Dick Grayson was not a coward and shoot his shot immediately.

"I'd have to ask what heaven's like since an angel caught me." He grinned, watching as his unknown saviour chuckled.

"I'm no angel, darling. More like a demon."

Teeth... Oh... Fangs.

"So... Can I have my saviour's name?" Dick hummed once the stranger landed in a nearby rooftop. He was... Gentle, kinda. He didn't drop Dick, or whatever, but he did make sure he was on his feet in the concrete roof.

The stranger gave him yet another toothy grin.

("I'm Phantom! I had it first in this world!" Danny argued, immediately flipping Dan off once the subject of their aliases were brought up.

"Then what the hell am I supposed to be called?! CW wants me playing hero for my 'redemption'." There's a mocking tone in his voice before he shudders at the invisible presence of the ancient.

"I have an idea!" Jazz—the only sensible one in the famil—smiled and went to giving him a name.

"How about—")

"Wraith." The stranger—Wraith—chuckled softly and tilted Dick's head a bit. Damn, that man was tall.

A second later, he was gone.

(Later, Dick hijacked the batcomputer to search for any cases that involved 'Wraith')

Part 3 | Masterpost

#dan phantom #batfam #nightwing #dc x dp #dpxdc #crossover #dick grayson #dark danny #Dan: Caught myself a birdie #Jazz: Please tell me its an actual bird and not a person #Dan: :D #Dick: HE WAS BUILT LIKE A GREEK GOD B! HE COULD HAVE BEEN BIGGER THAN SUPERMAN!#Bruce: First Jason and now you?!#Bats and Phantoms

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j0eyj0rdis0n · 1 year ago

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KINKTOBER DAY 8

BREEDING

EYELESS JACK

Jack had been worried for the day you'd have to experience his rut. He'd gone through it before while he was dating you, but he made the proxies take you far away. Your smell would drive him absolutely crazy. He'd told you it was for the best, but heavens forbid you believed him.

When the week was over, he let you come back home. He needed you to take care of him after such a tiring experience. You pretty much babied him the whole next week and he was so thankful. Of course you were filled to the brim with questions which he groggily answered. But the one that stuck the most was one he wasn't expecting.

"You'll let me help you next time right...?"

He was surprised. You'd want to help him, a demon, through his rut? What were you? Crazy?

It took up until the week before his next rut of you convincing him for him to finally say yes. He'd try his best to be nice, but he made you quite aware that his self control is very minimal during that week.

The week was finally upon you. Jack had locked himself in his room, only letting you in on the third day. The first and second day was usually the worst, so he wanted to save you from that, especially for the first time you'd experience his rut. Maybe next time around he'd let you have the full week together.

He was curled up in his bed, desperately humping his pillow that had your shirt on it. He was hot and sweaty, completely naked trying to get any sort of relief, any sort of chill on top of that.

You didn't know what you expected but it certainly wasn't your demon boyfriend all curled up and small. As soon as he heard the door close his eyes were focused on your form, your sent was overwhelming and his control was already beginning to dwindle.

He held out a clawed hand for you, pulling you to him when you placed your small hand in his. He let out a deep growl as he inhaled your sweet scent.

"Please help me..." He whispered, pressing his head into the pillow as his hips continued to grind.

All you could do was stand in shock, you'd never seen him like this...

"Y/N... Please..." His whispers turned into whines the longer you refused to touch him.

Finally when you began stroking his cock was when he let his head come out from the pillow. His mouth hung open as you worked his massive cock over in your tiny hands. Incoherent whines and groans fell from his lips as you continued. Eventually when you added your mouth to the equation he felt something inside of him snap. A guttural growl was all you heard as he pushed your head down on his hard cock.

It took all the self control he had to not choke you to death on his dick. Pulling you up harshly by your hair he moved you on top of him, slamming you down on him, not giving you any prep at all. You felt as if your demon was splitting you in half. You'd felt pain before but nothing quite of this magnitude.

His massive hands gripped your waist as he continued to slam you down over and over and over again.

All he could do was mumble through the unexplainable pleasure you were giving him without even trying.

"Mine... Mine... All mine... I'm gonna fill you up... All full of my babies... You're gonna make such a good mother... Fuuuuck..."

He was so close... So damn close... He fucked up into you, meeting your hips as he chased after his raging orgasm.

"Oh fuck- Fuck please- I need this so bad-" He moaned out, practically begging himself to cum.

It was only seconds later that he did, letting his seed fill you right up to the brim. Of course that didn't stop him. He wouldn't stop until you were cock drunk, used and abused, and he finally got the relief he needed.

#eyeless jack creepypasta #creepypasta smut #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #eyeless jack smut #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack #jack nyras #asks open #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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inkskinned · 1 year ago

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nobody ever gets the mugshot of gluttony right. these days you think it has nothing to do with bodyweight. what a good trick: that gluttony could take a shape. no, there was never any fault in finishing a meal or in taking second helpings. it was always in taking from others that there was an issue - the oil baron's fingers steepled over dead bodies and stolen lands. gluttony - twin of greed, although most think greed and envy are the siblings - gluttony is pleased with the experience of gaining, is thrilled just-by-having. greed is the one that stays hungry, that has to move forever like a shark. gluttony likes it - "a glutton for punishment" is one who is seeking the harm, who loves the rush.

gluttony is a mother using her daughter's body for a diet testing ground, sharpening the bone angles. gluttony is saying why, well not! to the seventh and eighth mansion or yacht. it is not just wanting the six white horses, it is making sure that the horses came from your stables. it is not just bathing in milk - it is bathing in milk while others are starving.

oh, it's true that some sins still blaze in their bright floral prints. wrath in a white woman yelling at a person of color for even daring to be in her neighborhood. the red, incipient rage of a neck tightened at even the thought we would take the guns away. wrath has laurels, and she is good at her job, and works hard.

but sloth wasn't ever the sleepy morning of depression, the hours spent begging a clouded body to please move goddamn it; the protestant work ethic claiming even rest is somehow demonic. it was never chronic fatigue. sloth was subtle, a grey mist. she is watching you get bullied and she is deciding it is none of her business. she crosses the picket line because - what! it's just chicken, isn't it? she is closing her eyes and turning her head when the next anti-gay legislation passes. someone else will handle it. not the tense freeze of anxiety or a lack of preparation - she knows you're hurting and would rather you stay quiet about it. she tells other people i just don't see what the big deal is.

sloth is a father that doesn't do the dishes. sloth is your boyfriend's innocent shrug you're just better at household shit. sloth isn't the missed opportunity - it is the purposeful desire to just get-someone-else-to-do-it.

greed and envy are doing body shots in the back of a private jet. they are the way they always have been, but are lovers in the age of the internet. greed just finished union busting, is rolling a bitcoin over his knuckles, is about to start another MLM. envy is in a broadbrimmed hat, showing off her instagram life, grinning about how if you want it, work for it.

okay, it's true. you have a soft spot for lust, gathering dust in a corner. so tame in comparison to the others. but how funny lust is always painted as being a woman in tight clothes. you've met actually lustful women - the ones that purposefully climb into your partner's lap, the ones that say lesbians are gross but ask bisexual women into bed with their husbands. a lustful woman is not donned in lace and garters and red: that's how men think lust looks, painting their own sins into frame. this way, the sin displaces as fog and hovers above her: a woman in a dress is lust; what the man experiences is just the natural consequence.

here is the thing: lust is doing just fine, save your pity. lust is running more circles than any of them. lust is shutting down safe sexwork sites while also making teenagers in knee-high socks sex sensations. lust is CEO of an advertising network where women never pass 25 years old. all the bras lust makes are pretty to look at but, when worn, legitimately hurt. lust has a podcast, his fur coat looped around his shoulders, sells the idea that only certain people have value, that sex raises some and destroys others. lust is tilting his head and asking what did you expect when you dress like that? lust shuns you, sneers that everything you want is disgusting and taboo - right until he can figure out how to capitalize off of it. lust has the midas ability: everything he touches becomes an object.

people usually say wrath is the scary one. you agree with FMA here, though: the real dangerous one is pride, and the shit-eating grin. the white cloaks and the nationalism and the inability to apologize. it is every partner who threw a book at your head because you don't respect him. it is every mother who said my son doesn't deserve to have his life ruined over allegations. it is the teacher that fails you because you talked back.

you worry you have this one. you feel guilty when you need help but don't ask for it. prideful. ashamed when you complete something and feel good about it. too proud for your own good. but pride is not the reward of hard work or accomplishment: pride is a twitter feed. it is the thing that has to mask i didn't do anything with look at me.

pride is your father's raised hand, his raised voice. how he was never there when you needed him, but he is still "head of house." he ruins dinner and blames it on you: you're an embarrassment to this family. this is the glass you walk around, the cuts in your feet. how he says this isn't how i raised you and you have to bite back the retort: that's because you didn't actually fucking raise me.

#i personally think having any of these desires is totally fine. it's when u use them to hurt others #it's why having ambitions =/= greed: as long as ur ambition isn't ''i hope i can take someone elses good things''#writeblr #warm up #seven deadly sins

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wandering-winchesters · 4 months ago

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Dean Winchester Masterlist

First Moments- Masterlist of the First Moments series.

Darkest Night- The reader loses someone close to her, Dean is close for comfort

Hunt Gone Wrong - The reader is injured while on a hunt, but doesn’t want the boys to know. Considering it should have been an easy hunt.

Not A Demon In Hell - The reader is taken by a Djinn, follows Dean as he does everything in his power to get her back.

If this is how I go, it’s worth it - the reader is injured saving Dean.

Please don’t shut me out�� - the reader deals with depression and anxiety, Dean seeks to help her.

Crossroads, Crossroads II, Crossroads III- (SPOILERS) Based around the time period of Season 2, when Dean makes a deal with the crossroads demon. The reader finds out that he made a deal, and what follows.

Nightmares-The reader has a nightmare and Dean is there to wake her. After, he questions what caused the nightmare.

A Million Times More- The reader and Dean make a pit stop on the way back from a hunt, will their true feelings finally be revealed?

Bad Feeling-The reader has a bad feeling about a hunt, the boys ignore it and she gets hurt.

Burning Up - the reader is sick and Dean takes care of her. Lots of fluff.

The Mark Of Cain - Dean has the mark of cain, and Y/N is normally the one who can calm him. However, this time things go too far.

Down Range- The reader is new to hunting and Dean takes her to learn how to shoot.

Premonitions- The reader has always had visions, but now they’re changing and causing her physical harm.

Not Yourself- The reader has been feeling off, ever since a nasty encounter with a demon.

Who Did This To You? -Sam and the reader are close friends, Dean on the other hand is kept at a distance. The reader has a boyfriend, who turns out to be abusive. What will happen when Dean finds out?

Tragedy -The reader is used to hunting solo, yet this solo hunt does not turn out quite like she had hoped. She is required to call on Dean and Sam after she is injured.

Hopeless - The reader can feel her depression creeping back in and eventually seeks comfort from Dean, who greets her with open arms.

When the Storm Clouds Rolls in- On a particularly hard day, the reader relies on Dean for comfort.

Haunted- the reader gets ghost sickness

Do It- The reader is taken captive and has given up hope of being rescued or escaping. Yet when Dean does appear, his life is the one at stake.

Don't Push Your Luck- After a bad argument with Dean, over the reader putting herself in danger, another hunt goes wrong. Will there be time to reveal the feelings that lie beneath the anger?

Grief- The reader loses her grandfather and eventually seeks comfort from Dean.

Take Me Back- Based on the song, The Night We Met by Lord Huron

Letters- Love Letter from Dean

A Calm in the Storm- When the world feels like it’s closing in, Dean is there to pull you back from the edge.

Steady Hands- When the weight of the world becomes too much, Dean is there to hold you together.

Breaking the Walls- Dean struggles with his growing feelings for you, battling the fear of letting you in while also being terrified of losing you.

The Weight of Darkness- In the midst of depression's grip, Dean's presence offers a glimmer of hope and the promise that you don't have to face it alone.

Under the Stars- you share a quiet, intimate moment in the woods, where a simple hand-holding leads to a deeper connection under the starry night sky.

A Moment too Late - A hunt goes wrong, leaving you seriously injured and Dean grappling with guilt. But through it all, the bond you share only grows stronger as you both fight through the pain and recovery together.

Comfort in the Dark- Dean Winchester seeks solace in your embrace during a vulnerable night.

Reunited - After days of fear and separation, you reunite with Dean.

When the Line is Crossed-What was supposed to be a simple night at the bar turns dangerous, but Dean steps in to protect you when it matters most.

A Cold Night's Warmth -On a freezing night after a hunt gone wrong, Dean Winchester quietly offers comfort

After the Battle - After a grueling hunt, you and Dean share a rare moment of closeness.

No Room for Blame- After a hunt leaves you injured saving Sam, a tense and emotional ride back to the motel forces Dean to confront his fear, anger, and the unbreakable bond between the three of you.

Unspoken Feelings - What started as simple, comforting snuggles between friends gradually deepens into something more

A Desperate Moment I, A Desperate Moment II -After a life-threatening hunt, Dean, overwhelmed by fear and desperation.

Sleepless Confessions- In the stillness of the bunker’s kitchen, a sleepless night turns into a tense, unspoken confession between you and Dean.

Wreckage- The things you see as Dean is taken by the hell hounds.

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killerkillerkillher · 10 months ago

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Bound to Fall in Love

Angel/Demon! 141 x reader

Tags: kidnapping, sacrifices, religious references, reader is too angry to die, reader commits murder lol, canon typical violence??, reader gets a kissy on the forehead, a tad crack-ish

Inclusivity tags: reader is referred to w he/him and they/them pronouns, no bodily description, no y/n

A/n: call my brain an apple w all the worms it's got. This was just a blurb at first, but I made room in there for me to potentially make it into... something I guess.

minors dni!

"Cole, I can't fucking focus while they're just... staring at us like that."

"Ignore it, Bess. We have to finish these candles."

You wish a bolt of lightening would come down and strike all three of you at once. Or maybe the building spontaneously combusting would be better. Anything, anything, would be better at this moment than watching your boyfriend and best friend work together to light a summoning circle after having tied you up in your sleep.

For a fraction of a second, you wonder if any gods are watching, if any of them would be willing to give you a boon and allow you one last chance to punch both of these betrayers in the face.

"Okay, okay, the book," Bess mutters, going to the pick up her ritual book from the coffee table you bought. Honestly, if they were going to try to sacrifice you somewhere, your living room is one of the most disrespectful places. Probably right under your bed room.

"I'm sorry," Cole has the gaul to look down at you with a face stricken with grief. Like you're dead already. "We didn't know what else to do. We're both in bad places and you've always been so good to us, so we figured-"

"You better hope this fucking kills me." You grunt. Cole's face melts into a glare. "Because if I'm still breathing, it's going to take more than Satan's intervention to save you from me. I swear on my mother." You jerk forward, making him jump back a step.

"Cole...?" Bess looks at you, then up at Cole with unease. Cole doesn't say anything for a second, sorting his feelings out with a leer before turning to her.

"Read the book."

He drags you into the middle of their pentagram while she sings Latin words off the old book pages. The candles flicker and waver before their flames grow twice as tall. Cole rolls you onto your back and pulls a knife from his back pocket.

"I meant it when I said I'm sorry," Cole mutters. You snarl, but don't jump at him like you want to.

"Yeah? Yeah, you're sorry? Kiss my ass!" You shout over Bess's reading. "If I'm still alive after this, I'm killing you and burying you in the fucking septic tank!" You crane your head up so you can see Bess as well. "Time to get some stuff off my chest, yeah? Bess, I fucked your older brother on the day we graduated."

Her eyes go wide, and she almost stops talking, but Cole shoots her a look that forces her to continue.

"And his friend Carl, the one you had a crush on. And Cole? I never. Fucking. Finished. Ever! You are the only person I've dated who couldn't get me off." Cole's hand's twitch around the blade.

"Are you serious?"

"Does now look like a time to- ack!" You don't get to finish because Bess finished the spell and it was time for your blood to fuel it. The blade buries in your gut, turning this way and that way at measured increments. You just lay there and twitch, breathy gasps falling from your gaping mouth, the pain only throwing fuel to the fires of your rage.

"Please, we call you here! Honor us with your presence!" Bess chants. Cole step away from you when the candles roar and your vision is filled with bright red and orange.

The ground beneath you rumbles. Whispers fill your ears, nothing you can ever imagine understanding, but something tells you they're other summoners. Or maybe little souls of those who were just where you are now, with a people sacrificing them.

It's odd, you think as blood soaks your back, your hair. You thought you'd be more scared in what could be your final moments. But there's only anguish where there should be fear. Only unfettered violent tension felt in your muscles, and a tongue hungering for iron and gore. You're jaw is wound tight enough to shatter your teeth.

If you could think straight, if you weren't about to die, you might be a little concerned. Never have you wanted to sink your fingers into someone's soft bits as much as you do now. This is normal, right? A normal amount of rage for the people taking your life.

Something in your gut tells you it's not.

In the fog of your rage, you missed the appearance of a pair of men above you. They hover, leathery plum colored wings sagging. One wears a leather strap harness across his chest, while the other favors an unbuttoned silk shirt. One of them looks at you curious as the fire dies, steam and copper colored smoke bellowing from his mouth. A thick cigar hangs on his lips.

"You came! There's... two of you?" Cole gawks, then falls to his knees beside Bess. You can't help but scoff at their sniveling forms.

"We did. There are." The one without the cigar brushes back his long mohawk to get a better look at the whimpering humans. They're nothing new to them, just another set of weak little things looking to get something without putting in the work for it.

Well, they might have had to put in the work to capture you, based on the way you still squirm and fight the rope keeping your arms together. So much blood has left you. You are going to die. Yet you spend your last moments doing what most humans find to be a waste of precious time. Being angry. It's interesting.

"What do you want?" The bearded one in the silk shirt grunts out around his cigar. Bess lifts her head just a bit to speak.

"We want to make a trade. A soul for a better life for us."

There's a moment of silence. You blink your heavy lids, growing too tired to do much else anymore. Both demons look back at you, then to the kneeling humans.

"They're not dead." They say at the same time.

Bess and Cole stiffen and finally chance a glance at you. You're bleeding, a glassy look to your eye and a smile on your face, but you're not dead.

"See, Bess?" You cough up blood only to swallow it back down, "what did I tell you? The cunt can't make me come and can't... can't even make me go."

The mohawked devil pops a wicked smile, not even hiding it from his would-be contractors.

Cole fumes. "I can finish the job. Fuck, am I going to finish the job." He stands, moving to step into the circle only to yelp, the invisible border around the summoning circle becoming visible if only to shock Cole back.

"Not so fast," the bearded one spawns a scroll in his hand. He's eyes glow a molten orange as he scans it. "Section 1, clause 3, part 19 states: executioner(s) must sacrifice one(1) human soul to contractee(s)... Let's see... Here it is: Sacrificee(s) must be dead upon arrival so that proper collection can be done. If sacrificee(s) is still soul bond upon arrival, then they are made the true contractor and all work will be conducted with them."

"In other words," the mohawked one grinned, "you should have went for the heart." He taps at his chest.

"Or the neck." The other devil offers.

"Or that vein in they're thigh."

"The sephenous, Johnny."

"Yeah, that."

"No, no!" Cole grabs at his hair as Bess looks like she's about to start crying. You want to laugh. They deserve the despair. They deserve the horror in their mistake. They were going to kill you!

"That means," the devils lean back to look at you. "You're our contractor. You get two requests at the price of one, human. I suggest one of those requests includes healing you." He flicks the ashes of his cigar on your leg. You don't even have to think of what you want most right now.

"I want you to untie me." You roll on your side. They wait for the rest. Cole and Bess look like they're going to shit themselves from the pale faced looks of terror they give you. Your eyes narrow. "And a hammer. A old fashioned iron and wood handled hammer."

Another beat of silence before the infernals bend over in laughter. The room shacks, sulfuric smoke pouring from their mouths to funk up the room. Cole tries to cox Bess to her feet while they're distracted. Their feet can't move though. It's like they're glued in placed and no amount of pulling and tugging could get them loose. Shame.

"Yer a funny one, love. I'll love having your soul for a few eternities." The one in leather floats over you, tilting his head this way and that way to get a good look at you. You settle him with a neutral look. "My name is Johnny. You sure that's what you want? I think you've only got a few minutes left in you."

"Then let's hurry this up a little, huh?"

"Ooh, you heard 'em." The cigared one snickers and snaps his claws. Two contracts appear in front of your face, both written in a language you can hardly comprehend. A pen appeared in front of your mouth. "Sign on the dotted line please."

You take the quill in your mouth, dip it in the blood beneath you.

"Rah 'ere?"

"Mhm."

You lean forward to dot the paper with your sloppy signature, but bizarrely enough, it seems like the powers that be have decided that they haven't made enough appearances. The floor trembles, and you worry about your poor infrastructure for a fraction of a second, when a set of gold doors spawn right behind you. You roll back onto your back to intake everything. You swear you're hallucinating when a pair of white winged angels step out, the clouded blue of heaven at their back.

"Hello?" You greet stupidly. You must be losing your mind, right? What the fuck is happening.

"Do not sign a thing." The bronzen angel instructs. "Human, we are here as messengers. God sees great things for you in your ascension. Please do not squander that to these demons." He shoots a sharp look at the demonic pair. The angel's counterpart wears a white cloak, obscuring all but his glowing golden eyes. You half expect him to sing "Be not afraid." despite you actively shitting bricks.

Oddly enough, their appearence seems to have some sort of healing property. Your lethargy starts to clear and the blade in your gut starts to get pushed out. Nothing hurts anymore.

"Oh, so we've got a big soul on our hands here, huh?" Johnny smirks. "Price, what's the plan?"

Price the devil throws his cigar to the ground and crushes it.

"Do what we do best. Bargain."

"Don't play with us, Price." The shrouded angel grunts. He's got a mind piercing voice that's got your head ringing, and you swear it echoes despite the room being well furnished. "We can provide them with just as much, if not more, at no cost of their soul." Those gold orbs land on you. "All we ask for is your faith."

"Jesus fucking Christ!" You tug at your bonds with renewed vigor. The angels wince at the mention of their Lord, but only watch as you force yourself upright. "I could not give a rat's ass who gets what! How about this? First one to get me free and a hammer in hand gets my loyalty."

There's two resounding snaps from either side of you. The ropes disappear, a hammer is in your left and right hand. You don't think deeper on what that implies. You finally stand, dropping the hammer in your nondominant hand, and march over to the two people you thought you could trust. They kneel now, seemingly ready to beg for their souls.

"Come on, don't look scared now." You drop your hands on your hips. "What happened to you finishing the job?"

"I didn't want-"

"Say it with your chest." You poke his breast plate with the iron hammer head.

"I didn't want it to come to this!" Cole yells. The divine audience doesn't say anything about it. They watch you curiously as you bounce the hammer in hand. Your soul is visible to them. What should be a glowing ball of light is a red and white morning star, all sharp edges and pulsing like a heart. Your soul will certainly not end up with the others, that much is true.

"I just... I couldn't keep up with you! Your life style, the way you act, your job. I never left good enough. Bess expressed the same thing and we just... clicked. We would have just left, but we could have never lived without struggling, so we just..." He swallows. You can't look at him anymore, hands clenching at what he says next. "The book called for someone we cared for."

''That supposed to make me feel better?" You tilt your head. Cole winces, eyes falling on your feet. You look to Bess. "Thought you were better than this. You were going to kill me. Because what, I was happy? I loved both of you, you could have just talked to me."

"We're sorry! What more do you want?" Bess sobs. You straighten up, bouncing the hammer on your hip, acting like you next action is something to deliberate. You already know what they deserve, and a flash of sadness bubbles in your chest, but it quickly passes as a hot, searing emotion burns a hole into what little hesitation you had left.

"Reckon I want your souls after all the shit you've caused." You grin before swinging the hammer back and caving in Cole's chest.

"Fuck..." is all you can say after everything is done. Cole and Bess lay in a bloody heep, all recognizable features destroyed and crushed. You pant, hands trembling and nothing but white noise and static crunching around in your head. You just killed your best friend and boyfriend. For some reason, you've never felt so light.

Someone's whistle gets followed by a clap.

"Impressive. Done that before?" Johnny chuckles. He floats closer, hand running down your back as he moves past and pokes around the pulped organs. "Shite, did them right in. Can't tell which is which."

"I've never-" you start to answer, but hands are clapped onto your shoulders, shocking you into silence.

"Well, that was a good place to start, lad. Your swings were a bit sloppy, but we can fix that." Price squeezes at your trapezius, massaging the stiffness out of them. A throat clears, and Price sighs like he forgot there was other company.

"We aren't finished. The human is our ward now, Price." The uncloaked angel snaps his finger, pulling you from Price and making you spawn between the two angels. The bronzen angel smiles down at you with teeth so white you could damn near see your reflection.

"There you are. It's nicer to have you close. My friend here is Simon and I'm-"

"Come on, Kyle, you know he's ours!" Johnny spits, his wings flaring out. "We gave him the hammer first, so piss off."

"Uh...huh." Kyle's smile falls. "I think you're a bit mistaken. Look, after executing the human's request, I have his name here." A stone slab appears in front of your face. It's smells like sunshine and warm grass. What the fuck. "His pledge to the Lord has been set and his soul already has a place next to Their throne."

"Right, right, like we don't have documentation neither." Johnny huffs. The stone disappears as a scroll appears next to the devil. The smell of sulfur and smoke wafts over to you. "His name is right there, pretty boy. Getting yer fuckin' lookers on."

Kyle ignores the rude tone and does pull out a pair of reading glasses to go over the scroll. You stand there in the silence, a little too scared to speak up. What could you do anyway? In a blind anger, you didn't really have the mind to think any of this out. Angels and devils are fighting over you because you'd stupid ass was too blood hungry to think past murder. All that can be done is for them to figure this out amongst themselves, and for you to wait for the sentencing. Heaven, or Hell?

"...Simon." Kyle slowly pulls his glasses off. "This is legit. His soul is promised to all of us."

You glance up at Simon, the scary motherfucker. He blinks. Once. Twice. Then pinches the bridge of his nose with a hagard sigh.

"Shit."

That's not good.

Johnny laughs, Price grinning like a dog with a bone. Kyle marches over to you, patting your shoulders with an awkward smile. His demeanor reminds you of the way your mom acted when she said she was going to divorce your dad. And all you can think is "Not this again." Are you going to be spending your afterlife going between heaven and hell forever? Does God get weekends because Their day is Sunday or whatever?

"We need to go and talk this over with some superiors. We'll clean this up," Kyle snaps and the gore is gone, so is the ritual circle and candles. "And we'll get back to you in the morning." He places a feather light kiss on your forehead, and suddenly you're squeaky clean and in the softest set of pajamas you've ever worn. "Stay safe while we're gone and don't allow these two to influence you. Get some rest."

"Blah, blah, blah," Johnny mocks from the sidelines. Price tilts his head, and there's nothing but amusement behind those eyes. Yeah, this is exactly like your parents divorce.

"O-okay? I mean, I'll try." You shrug.

Simon nods. "That's all you can do." He steps back into the golden doorway and Kyle falls in stride. You make some distance, and with a final wave from a white toothed angel, the doors shut with a slam that shakes the house's foundation.

"Just you and us now, stud."

You turn with a comedic slowness to the devils. Price chuffs and floats forward. His assess you, takes you in in all your fluffy white pajama glory, and it seems he finds what he wants when he nods.

"Guess we've got to talk with top brass to see what's going on ourselves. Pity we couldn't stick around longer." The devil's eyes never meet yours, staying glued to various parts of your face. They hop from ears, to your eyebrows, down to your lips. Christ on a bike, is it getting hot in here? His blue, glowing cerulean eyes appear to flash with something.

"Shite, yer right." Johnny groans. "I hate going down there."

"Suck it up, love. You know how I feel about sharing." Price drops his interest in you like an old toy and takes Johnny close by his waist. You watch with a lead poisoned stare as their noses touch intimately, words you can't hear being exchanged. It's kinda of awkward to just stand there and watch but your brain isn't really functioning well enough to tell you to stop.

"Hey, stud." You blink, refocusing on the pair. Johnny seems to have climbed his partner, his legs on his waist and arms around his neck. Price makes busy opening a portal to hell in your livingroom with one hand, supporting Johnny under his ass with the other. "Sit pretty, yeah? 'll be back before those two arseholes, promise."

"Right... yeah." You nod. "Uh, be safe?"

"Be safe, he says." Price mutters. "Cute." Johnny waves until Price steps through the infernal hole and falls from view. The portal closes right behind him so you'd have no hopes of seeing anything but the red hue of smog and dust.

And here you are. A little dazed, a little sad, probably holding back a break down from the last hour of events. But you're alive and you're healed. There's no blood to clean, you're in comfortable pajamas. Could probably sleep right now if your brain would stop for a minute, but it doesn't look like that's in the plans.

So you look for something to do. Cole and Bess and moved around all your furniture to make the summoning circle. Guess you can start there, right?

#ghost mw2 #price mw2 #cod modern warfare #gaz mw2 #soap mw2 #call of duty #angel/devil au #141 x reader #141 x male reader #poly!141 x reader #let me cook!#LET ME COOK!

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luvyeni · 6 months ago

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FOREVER OURS • FINAL ENDING ( 02'z LINERS )

pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ demon!02z x fem!reader wc. 3.7k+

𓄷 warnings... foursome, oral ( m & f receiving ), unprotected sex, breeding kink, rough sex , double penetration, lots of cum, heavy degradation

nia's notes: the final chapter, I hope everyone enjoyed the series ,, and look forward to more stories by luvyeni ❤️‍🔥!!

jay | lucifer masterlist | jake

I don't care what kind of existence you are, it's important that we value each other …

without the light I fall …

And just like that; your time in your grandmother's home was coming to an end. you didn't think it would be so sad; leaving the mansion, but you've grown to love the house itself— but not just the house; you've grown to love the demons who possessed the home.

Jake; his constant need to be around you was a lot to deal with at first; but now he's the first thing you reach and look for as soon as your eyes flutter open for the day. then sunghoon; which you are surprised about, he was the hardest to get to open up, his cold exterior would intimidate any normal person, but you know how soft he could be, even if he protests— you know it's him leaving the flower from the garden on the table every morning.

then jay— one of the most selfless people you would ever meet in your lifetime; hearing how he'd put himself aside to save his mother and allow the other boys to pass on stuck with you; how he always cooks for you; laying out your clothes for you. or washing your hair in the shower, just doing everything for you.

you didn't want to give this up, you didn't want to give them up— and you didn't have to; you could easily take them with you, but this was a big commitment; a lifetime commitment, literally.

“how would I even fit you all in my apartment?” you'd asked one day. “It's only a two bedroom.” Jake would smile. “well I'd sleep with you obviously.” he then would turn to Jay and sunghoon. “and they can be roommates.” you laughed as the sunghoon had to be held back by jay so he wouldn't strangle the other demon. “I'm kidding, I'm kidding.” he said , his head on your shoulders. “Of course you two could lay with her once a month.” jay would speak up. “I would get us a bigger apartment.”

“and how would you do that?” sunghoon asked. “Because believe it or not, there are demons everywhere, and they'd do anything to impress the son and future leader of hell, that includes giving me anything I want” he said, your eyes widened. “Could you get me a new car?” he smirked. “I could get you 5 cars if that's what you want.” Jake whined. “hey , that's not fair, I could get her a house.” that made sunghoon laugh sarcastically, “you'd have to get a job.”

“I can get a job,” he said. “as what? you went to school 100 years ago.” the boy pouted. “and what would you do? huh, it's not like you have any recent schooling, and with your personality i doubt anyone would hire you.” sunghoon shrugged. “look how beautiful I am, I could easily become a model.” you rolled your eyes. “You're too cocky , it doesn't work like that.” you said. “for a human yes, for me no.” he said. “Well since those two have it figured out, Jake I have a job I could take care of the both of us.” The other demons rolled their eyes; you always doted on him. “of course you would.”

That was good , and you wish it was all good, but you also had to think realistically. “how would you explain this to people?” sunghoon would speak before thinking. “we're your boyfriends duh.” you stoic at him. “Yeah, that's not as common as you think, not everyone has three boyfriends.” you said, Jake spoke up. “not common , but not unheard of.”

“no it's unheard of Jake, I was being nice.”

“and my friends , they'll be a bit confused, moved into a new apartment with three new guys.” You said. “yeji, my best friend would definitely be suspicious.” “well it's not like you can't just tell them.”

“and end up strapped to a chair on medication— you can't wear necklaces in a nuthouse.”

jay would always reassure that the four of you would figure it out if said yes; he would personally handle it all if he had to, he would use every connection he had, if you said yes— all you had to do was say yes. “don't focus on that stuff , if I didn't have a plan already I wouldn't have even said yes to the agreement with my dad.” he said. “he's horrible but he's still my dad , he won't want to see me struggle— my dad is as vain as your grandmother, he wouldn't want his son to look anything but up to standard to the demons in the underworld and on earth, they're probably best friends, sitting in hell.”

knowing that they'd easily integrate into society calmed your anxiety a little, you did want see them struggle— although the ways were a bit vague; still not sure what sunghoon meant and you were almost sure jay was about to nepo baby his way to the top, but you sure they'd figure it out, even jake had a plan, he'd dedicate his time to music; and you of course.

you still had those annoying thoughts looming around you; how do you explain to your parents? your parents were open minded people, but this was hard to explain to them, and keeping a secret this big for what would be the rest of your life seemed almost impossible— then it was that; you never knew where your life was heading; would your relationship with them remain the same?

a week later and you didn't really have much longer; most of your parents' things were here, jay and jake offering to set them up for you; which you graciously accepted— you had to give them an answer, even you said no, they deserved to get one now and not on the last day.

you needed some time to think; so you went into town, telling them you'd only be about an hour. “kai.” The boy sat on a crate, stocking up different cans on the shelves. “oh hey yn.” he looked around. “They aren't here, don't worry.” he sighed. “thank god, they're so intimidating.” he laughed, standing up now. “well sunghoon is, jake is sweet.” you said he nodded. “yeah.”

“I'm leaving soon.” you said. “I'm leaving at the end of the week.” you saw him frown. “really?” he said. “yeah.” you nodded. “I'll visit sometimes, my father is hard to handle sometimes, and my mother has low patience.” you said. “So I'll be seeing you again.” he said and you nodded. “Your boyfriend too?” he asked. “He's not— don't worry about it, a girl as pretty as you.” he said. “I would be surprised if you didn't have a boyfriend.” you remembered what sunghoon said, and you smiled. “I'm sure there will be another pretty girl soon.” you said. “don't be a stranger, even if your boyfriend scares me a bit.” you shook your head. “He's harmless, I swear.” you said. “harmless enough to not rip my head off for asking you to lunch?”

you agreed, he took his lunch and you both went to the small diner, sitting in the booth. “Can I ask you a question?” you said , while waiting for your food. “Go ahead as your new friend. I'm all ears.” he said. “Well , if you had to make a choice , a choice that would affect the rest of your life , but it could help a bunch of uh.” you tried to think. “people?” he chimed in. “yeah sure.” you said. “Would you do it?” he tapped his fingers on the table, thinking.

“Well, do you love these people?” he asked, you sat in thought; did you love them? over the past three months, learning more about them, and what they went through— you could confidently say; yeah, you did feel something for them; you could say you loved each and every one of them. “yeah, I think I do.” you said, and he nodded. “Well then , there's your answer.” He said. “if you love someone, you'd do anything for them.” he said , really putting things into perspective for you. “thank you kai.” you smiled, a weight finally being lifted off your shoulders— the sweet waitress coming over to the table to give your food. “here you go.”

“She's cute.” Kai's neck turned red, looking down at the check. “what?” he showed you. “she gave me her number.” sunghoon was right; you would make sure he'd never hear you say any of that.

you left kai feeling much better, a skip in your step as you make your way back into the house. “is there really a reason for you to be that happy?” sunghoon walked into the room. “yes actually.” you kissed his cheek , walking away humming. “I told you to stop doing that.” he yelled , but you knew he was blushing— following behind you into the kitchen. “where'd you go?” Jake wrapped his arms around you once he became aware of your presence; you definitely couldn't give this up. “I went to see kai.” jay entered the room. “kai?”

“some kid that likes her.” sunghoon said bitterly, jake squeezed you. “he even came here, I'm sure you remember seeing the aftermath after his visit, since you're a perv who likes to look through mirrors.” jay glared at the boy. “yah, I'm still years older than you.” the younger shrugged. “you're thousands of years older than us.” you saw Jay's jaw clench. “i'm not that old.” you laughed, Jake snuggling against your cheek. “Why'd you go see him?” he whined, like the true puppy he is. “well because I wanted to let him know I was leaving soon.”

you seen them all frown, deciding to not keep it from them any longer. “because someone decided to scare the hell out of him last time, you know when you come with me you can't be this jealous.” he rolled his eyes, but you felt Jake stiffen up; he was the only one to catch on. “when?” he said, they all stopped. “you said when, not if like you always do.” you smiled.

“you made a decision?” Jay said, you nodded. “and you're sure , I don't want you to feel like you're being pressured?” he said, grabbing his hands; you reassured him. “I don't feel pressured, I promise.” you said. “I had a talk with kai, and he said if you love someone, you'd do anything for them.” you confessed, Jake hugging you excitedly. “I knew it, I told y'all she loved us, you all doubted me, I told y'all.”

“how about getting off of her for two seconds.” sunghoon said. “Why are you finally gonna give me a hug?” he grimaced. “no.” he said, and you pouted. “don't give me that face,” he said. “if you don't want to do this, don't do it.” he said seriously. “but I want to.” you stared him down. “I want to annoy you for the rest of both of our lives.” he rolled his eyes. “just hug her already, you know you want to.” Jake said. “no I don't.” you rolled your eyes. “hug me sunghoon.”

the demon's arms opened up, and he pulled you into a hug. “Keep taking advantage of me like this baby, it will never end well.” you smiled teasingly. “please you love it.”

After giving your final answer, the air immediately felt lighter around the four of you— even sunghoon seemed happier; though his face tried not to show it. jay made you your favorite dinner, while you told them about your everyday life; and all your friends , and what you did for a living, just about everything they'd have to get used to; now that they'd be staying with you. “you know princess, you surely do have a lot of guy friends.” jay said, taking away the empty plate. “I guess so.” you shrugged , unaware of their jealous looks in all of their eyes.

“you know that's gonna have to stop right?” you might've not caught the look , but you sure heard the deepening of his voice; and it made your insides warm. “wh-why?” you stuttered , hearing him walk over to you. “well princess.” you felt his hands on your shoulder; bringing his mouth to your ear. “That's cause you're ours.” you shuddered upon feeling his lips on your neck. “and I already have to share you with them , I won't share you with any other guy.” you almost let out a noise when sunghoon scoffed. “look at that , she likes that,” he said, turning to you. “you like being our own personal little slut.”

you bit your lip , jake smiled at you. “she likes it.” the atmosphere had totally shifted , their eyes blown with lust , ready to pounce on you right there on you in the kitchen. “how about we take this back to your room love?” you nodded and jay helped you up , guiding you back to your room.

your brain was already feeling fuzzy as you sat in ber Jake's legs , his plump lips on your neck; the demon's hand coming up to your boob , squeezing them through your shirt. “j-jake.” you moaned , he smiled against your cheek. “you like that?” he chuckled. “I bet you're wet as fuck down there.” jay got in between your legs. “let's find out.” he unbuttoned your shorts , pulling them down , throwing them on the floor. “open your legs baby.” you spread your legs open. “fuck you're right.” he groaned. “she's fucking soaked.”

“of course she is.” sunghoon said , you moaned as jay kissed your thighs , pulling your panties to the side , licking a stripe up your slick cunt. “fuck.” you moaned. “feels good?” said , biting down on your neck , lifting your shirt , pinching your nipples. “oh my god.” you gasped , sunghoon finally getting tired of watching , his cock hard against his slacks. “be a good slut for me.” sunghoon undid his slacks. “open that mouth.”

he stuffed his fingers in your mouth , letting the drool coat his digits. “nasty slut.” he pushed down on your tongue, you gagged , the demon smirked. “there were go slut , open up your mouth I'm gonna fuck your face.” he pulled his cock out stroking it , pressing his mushroom head against your lips. “that's it.” he groaned, pushing himself inside your cavern. “suck my cock.”

you moaned around his cock , moving your head up and down his shaft as jake tweek and toyed with your nipples , kay hungrily lapping at your cunt , hold your legs open. “You're gonna cum?” he pulled away , lips coated in your wetness. “yeah?” he brought his fingers to your clit , rubbing harsh circles , pushing two of his fingers in , all you could do was moan , sunghoons head was thrown back. “fuck.” he grabbed the back of your head , pushing it all the way down. “fuck I'm gonna cum down your fucking throat.” the demon grunted. “fuck, fucking take it!” he shouted , his thick load; shooting to the back of your throat. “shit.”

he pulled out just in time; the band in your stomach breaking , as jay continued his assault on your cunt. “jay.” you moaned. “jay I'm cumming!” you screamed out , cumming all over his finger , your hips moving as you rode out your orgasm , poor jake having to watch all this go down , and having to endure you grinding against his hard on. “fuck if I don't get inside her I'm gonna blow my fucking load.”

within a second you're in a different position, sunghoon laying under. “be a good fucking slut and take both of us.” he slapped your ass as you straddled his waist. “Come on, sit on it.” he guided you down to his cock , your eyes closed , legs shaking as you took him. “fuck sunghoon.” you cursed. “fuck you're so fucking tight.” he grunted. “hurry the fuck up Jake , before I take this slut right now.”

jake sloted himself behind you, the demon ready to cum as he freed himself from his slacks. “shit.” he gasped , stroking himself. “Are you ready baby?” you shakenly nodded. “ye-yes.” your nails sunk deep into the demon below you as the one behind you pushed himself into , stretching you out , your mouth hanging open. “fuck baby you took both of us.” he cursed , his cock feeling suffocated they both began to move in and out of you , talking turns filling you up.

you were so far gone , the only thing on your mind was their cocks. “look at the slut so far gone.” sunghoon groaned. “She's set for life , three cocks ready to satisfy her every need.” you moaned as he yanked your hair. “That's all she needs right?” you dumbly nodded , the need to cum coming right around the corner. “I'm gonna cum.” you whimpered, clamping down on them , making both the beings inside her groan in pleasure.

your legs shook as you came , jake was the first one to cum; pulling out just in time as he came; cumming all over your back and ass. “shit.” he sighed , falling back on his hands. “fuck that I'm gonna cum inside you.” sunghoon growled. “you want that? for me to fill your cunt up.” he moaned. “please.” he fucked up into you. “sh-shit , take my cum.” you felt him filling you up , his cock twitching inside you. “fuck.”

jay laid you back down , kissing you sweetly. “Think you can give me one more?” he said , his cock already out , his tip leaking with precum , as he dragged it along your folds. “You can give me one more right princess?” he tapped his cock on your slick , you nodded. “pl- please.” You moaned out feeling his cock intrude your hole. “fuuuuck , you're so warm.” he grunted. “so tight , even after they stretched you out.”

he moved his hips , his fat cock dragging along your sensitive walls. “look at you , such a good , taking all three of us.” he moaned. “so perfect -fuck- me-meant to be ours.” you clawed at the sheets. “ja-jay please fuck me.” you moaned , he moved his hips a certain way , hitting the spot that made you see white. “you're gonna cum princess.” he felt his cock twitch , signaling he was about to cum. “thats it , cum all over my cock princess.”

you let out a scream like moan , cumming all over him , tightening around him. “fuck , princess you almost pushed me out , before i could cum inside your little pussy.” he groaned. “fuck I'm cumming.” his hips stuttered as his cum spurted inside you, ropes of his cum flooding your insides. “fuck.”

your spent body laid against the bed as they all began to help you clean up; even sunghoon , running your bath water. “you did so good for us.” jake kissed you. “so good.” he pulled you into a deep kiss, his hands coming up to yours to pin you back down. “that's enough.” jay came out of your bathroom. “jake get off of her , she's probably exhausted.” jake smiled cheekily down at you , sunghoon pushing the boy over. ��control yourself , just cause you haven't gotten any in 100 years doesn't mean anything.” he scoffed. “you're tired aren't you?” jay said. “let's get you showered and into bed.” he said.

The day has finally come , having all your stuff packed , the necklace still around your neck; as you watch them put your stuff into the trunk of the car. “this car is so old.” sunghoon complained. “you do realize I was a college student before this.” jay kissed your temples. “We'll get you a new one.” you turned to him sternly. “we're gonna have to eventually talk about where you plan on getting this money, there will be no demon loan sharks knocking on my door.”

jake; after much fighting, climbed into the passenger's seat of your car; you left the keys in the mailbox for your parents who would be arriving later that day. “Are you guys ready?” you got into the driver's seat, jakes hand immediately finding your thigh— you could feel how happy they were, it warmed your heart, knowing you can help them, but also spend the rest of your life , surrounded by the new people you've grown to love dearly; you knew it would take some time to get used to, and maybe you could eventually explain to the other people you love, but for now you'd have to make this work.

TAGLIST. @deobitful @in-somnias-world @darlingz99 @luvitaria @lost-fantasy @lostinneocity @nalenhypen @heeshlove @kirinaa08 @strxwbloody @ryn000 @neosexuals @sakanelli-afc @yizhoutv @capri-cuntz @lilyuwon @criminalseung @hanhaeji @eggomi @serenijiny @luvvsnae @jakesfurry

©️LUVYENI

#kpop x reader #kpop smut #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen smut #enhypen x female reader #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #jay park smut #jay scenarios #jay x reader #jay park x reader #jake sim smut #jake sim fanfic #jake sim x reader #park sunghoon smut #park sunghoon fanfic #park sunghoon x reader

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trash-and-trash-accessories · 2 months ago

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I love Spike so much. He's the most character of all time. But it's more than that. He's more than bleached hair, a pretty face, and bloodlust. He makes sense. The character makes sense.

He's William. He's still, despite it all, William Pratt, the god-awful poet and pathetic wet cat of a man under the thumb of mommy his whole life. He just wants to be loved and held and to satiate his unending bloodlust. He's not the big bad. He's pathetic.

He's burnt out on all the plots and schemes. Plots and schemes are Angel's thing. Serving some grand evil purpose is Darla's thing. Cruelty is Drusilla's thing. William Pratt is a poet and a mama's boy who just wants a strong woman to love him and tell him what to do. He's tired. He's so tired of the plots and schemes.

Sure, he knows how to have a good time, he plays kitten poker and sells demon eggs to the highest bidder but that's a matter of making money or hanging out with friends. It's not what he WANTS. The only thing he wants is to be loved by someone who loves him back. The problem is, he's toxic and obsessive. He doesn't fall in love. He becomes consumed. His whole world revolves around the object of his obsession. So when he's with Drusilla, he's the big bad evil guy doing schemes. Trying to impress her with extreme violence and death. Because that's what Drusilla is into. Torture and death. She's Catholic. And a vampire.

He also tries to impress Angel by killing Slayers because Angel is into Slayers and Angel and Spike canonically slept together don't at me. This man is bisexual.

When he's with Buffy he's a loyal dog. A bad boy, a part of the demonic world, but a dog nonetheless. He's a soulless monster but his obsession with Buffy turns him into one of the good guys. It's not natural for him. He feels it happening and he fights against it, but he's madly in love with her and he will be and do whatever it takes to impress her and make her love him back. He's obsessive.

He knows it, and he doesn't like that side of himself. He doesn't like that he's a pathetic dog. Sometimes he pushes against that side of himself. He tries to be a good person, for real. Not just a pathetic stalker of a man.

But he can't fight it. He is what he is.

And unfortunately that is a soulless vampire.

Hence that one scene that I pretend didn't happen.

But despite being definitionally evil, he can't stop being consumed the person he's obsessed with. Buffy wants him to have a soul. She wants him to not be the monster he is. So he rips William Pratt from his grave and resurrects him for her. He goes through hell to put his soul back inside his body for her. It takes her a long time to accept him again after what he did.

But he's the good boy now. He's a good dog.

Only she doesn't see him that way. In the end, he has her trust. Her love. She cares about him and sees him as her equal. As someone she can trust. She can't trust her friends because they're messy and constantly fucking up and betraying her because they don't understand what it is to be The Slayer. To have a human body and a human soul, with demonic power inside, and the divine mandate to sacrifice yourself for others, to save the world. No matter what that does to you.

Spike has a human soul, a demon inside him, trauma, and a divine mission to save the world. To sacrifice himself for everyone.

Spike is the only one who understands Buffy, and maybe the only one who ever will.

He's the perfect culmination of all her other relationships.

He fucks. Unlike Angel, Spike can fuck. He can experience joy alongside her.

He respects her strength and isn't emasculated or intimidated by the fact that she's stronger than him. He loves that she defeated a god. Unlike fucking Riley.

He's lived lifetimes worth of traumatic experiences. But he isn't currently experiencing an ongoing mental health crisis like Faith was.

And he likes poetry!

They even have the same ex boyfriend!

In conclusion He and Buffy are both the most character of all time and the narrative's favorites and therefore they are both perfect for each other and have the potential to be extremely toxic together and I'm so happy for them, I hope she pegs him, I know he would love that.

#spuffy #spike #spike btvs #spike buffy #buffy #buffy summers #buffy the vampire slayer #buffy meta #buffyverse #btvs #william pratt #william the bloody

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that-one-p00k1e · 7 months ago

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───〃★ the way I love you ೃ⁀➷˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚

Their love language w/you ft. Hajime Umemiya, Hayato Suo, Ren Kaji, & Haruka Sakura | Demon Slayer ver.

c/w: 🎀OOC🎀, fluff, gn!reader (I think), use of "my lady" in Suo's, established!relationship in Umemiya's

GRADUATING 2DAY RAAAHHH🗣️🗣️🔥🔥🔥🦅🦅🦅

—Haruka Sakura being the easily flustered tsundere he is, words and physical touch aren't really in his dictionary of how to express his feelings. He isn't good at being forward verbally in the environment of love, nor is he able to initiate close proximity gestures.

Without realizing, one of his particular ways of showing his care was through acts of service. Helping each other around town has become a normalcy. Thus, he wouldn't stand out when doing you a favor purely out of his own will; he prefers to be discreet to avoid getting called out, not wanting to be viewed as soft and lose his dignity.

He'd claim that he couldn't give any less of concern for anyone. Yet, he couldn't help but feel an uncomfortable tug at his heart when you mentioned forgetting to bring an umbrella during the rainy weather. He contemplated whether to do something about it or not, torn between his pride and feelings.

Just as you were about to step foot outside, you felt a hand on your shoulder that brought you to a halt.

“The hell do you think you're doin’? Trying to get a cold?”

You weren't given enough time to let out a reply before a folded umbrella was held up to your face.

“You could've asked to borrow one, y'know. I have a spare, so save the fuss and just take it.”

With that, you thanked him and gave a smile of gratitude before taking your leave with the lent umbrella. Little did you know, that boy did not own a spare…

—Hajime Umemiya is so pure he's guaranteed to shower you with every. possible. way. imaginable to express his love. But physical touch would be one of the most prominent.

No matter the occasion, no matter the time, you somehow will always get pulled into an embrace one way or another. He loved the feeling of cradling your petite figure between his strong arms; it made him feel like he was shielding you from any harm. His hugs were warm, comforting, and provided a sense of safety. He'd wrap his arms around your waist from behind and spoon you in, he'd rub his hand up and down your back as you cry into his chest, he'll run up to you and let you jump into his arms, spinning you around as he lifted you off the ground.

He loves the feeling of your hands against his; your soft skin contrasting with his calloused palms. The comparison between the size of your hands and his was somewhat cute to him, making him want to protect you even more as if you were the most precious yet fragile treasure in this world.

“Next time you come in here looking all beat-up, I'm kicking you out and locking you outside,” you scolded him as you tended to his injured hands, irritation yet concern etched on your facial features.

Ume let out a chuckle at your threat, gazing at your grumpy yet worried facial expression which he thought endearing.

“Aww… You really have the heart to be so cruel to your beloved and caring boyfriend??” he whined as he looked at you with an exaggerated pouty face.

“So-called ‘caring’ but doesn't even seem to care about how worried his girlfriend gets when he comes over looking like a used dog toy.” He felt a twinge of guilt at your words, feeling bad for making you so worked up over his condition.

Gently, he held your wrist and brought your hand up to his face, softly placing tender kisses on your knuckles.

“I'm sorry for worrying you, sweetheart…” His deep, gentle voice conveyed such words so smoothly, like a soothing melody strumming its way through your ears and into your heart. You couldn't help but loosen the wrinkles that tugged your eyebrows, letting out a sigh as the tension slowly left your nody. You knew it was his duty to protect the town and all, but the amount of fight he gets into this week devastated you.

“Just… try to avoid doing it alone, please? I know you're strong, but it hurts me seeing you go up against many by yourself.”

“I'll try… Promise.” With that, he leaned over to plant a reassuring kiss on your forehead.

—Hayato Suo enjoys being discreet and mysterious. He finds amusement in seeing your confused face when you receive any form of gift anonymously. At first, he'll start out completely unknown; he wants to satisfy his curiosity on how you'd react for the first time. Once he saw the confused yet happy look on your face, it made him want to perform the act of gift giving even further.

The type of gift would often be small flower bouquets. Occasionally, a little pack of candy would be stuck to it alongside a little note. Written inside those little notes; through either riddles, poems, or song lyrics, he started giving subtle hints on who the sender was. Day by day, he watched patiently as you took your time to connect the pieces.

Until one day.

You were at Pothos, helping out Kotoha as the first-year gang hung out. While wiping the front counter, you overheard Nirei sharing his opinion on how cool Suo was that he understood flower language. You internally agreed. Suo was a man of many quirks, and you've secretly admired him for that. He understood trivial things that most people wouldn't; poems, flowers, riddles– Holy shit.

Your body froze up the moment realization kicked in, heartbeat accelerating as you tried to quickly form everything in your mind. The elegant handwriting, the heart touching poems, the beautifully arranged varieties of flowers. Could it be–

“Suo.”

The crowd suddenly went quiet at the abrupt mention of one of the personel. You decided to take things somewhere a little more private.

“Please be honest with me,” you demanded as the both of you stood in front of the café.

“Are you the one who has been placing random flower bouquets in front of my doorstep? And before you come at me, there is no one else I know that understands flower language, poems, or-”

“Ah, so you've finally noticed,” the brunette chimed innocently with a sweet smile.

You blinked. “W-What?”

“Yes, I'm the perpetrator behind all those floral gifts you find every day. Are you uncomfortable with it? I can stop if you'd like–”

“NO! I-... I appreciate it. It's just… why? What for? Did you get a dare or something?”

Ever so subtly, his eyes softened at your words. “Why, it is simply because I like you.”

The moment the confession escaped his lips, it felt like your whole world was shaken. You were excited, happy, yet unsure. Unsure if he meant it or not. After all, you knew the kind of person he was.

“... Please don't joke about this.”

He understands what you mean, and he doesn't blame you for that. “My lady… I may be one to bluff, but involving one's feelings is where I draw the line,” he spoke with a tone oh-so gentle, wanting to convey the sincerity his words bore.

“Then… what are you trying to get out of doing all of this?”

“Your heart.”

Blood rushed into your cheeks like a marathon. Your heartbeat acceleration exceeded a speed limit you didn't know you had. With a deep breath, you gathered all ability left to respond.

“... You already did.”

Not even a second passed, and the young man felt a pair of arms embracing him tightly; a sigh leaving his lips as he looked down at the fair maiden in adoration and fondness.

Little did they know about the little audience they had through the glass window of the café.

—Ren Kaji has an aloof demeanor that he tends to keep to himself and distance his existence from the world. He's not one to listen nor speak, preferring to focus on the music blasting through his headphones. Though he enjoys being in rowdy places, he doesn't get loud and excited himself. All in all, quality time would be his best aspect in the language of love.

He'll accompany you on your walks, either when he bumps into you during patrol or when you're going home from school. He'd claim that walking you home was a part of his ‘duty’ and that you just happened to appear as an excuse. Along the journey, he'd listen to you talk your heart out while humming occasionally to let you know he was listening. Even if his headphones were on, he'd lower the volume to be able to hear your voice.

Never had he admitted how he felt comfortable with your presence, and maybe he never will. Words and touches weren't in his field of knowledge, making him seem to be difficult to approach. But little did you know that deep down, he held a spot for you as one of the exceptions – which he was clearly oblivious to.

“... Kaji… Kaji.” He rolled the sucker in his mouth and pulled down his headphones as he felt a poke on his cheek.

“Go on ahead without me. I'm gonna head someplace to eat.”

“I'll come with.”

“But you have patrol.”

“And I also have Enomoto and Kusumi. End of discussion.”

With a defeated sigh, you decided to eat at Pothos; the safest place to eat and thankfully the closest to your place. You offered to treat Kaji for dinner – not wanting to be the only one eating – but the young man declined and said he wasn't hungry. You didn't care; still getting him something as a way to thank him for his willingness to accompany this whole time.

“What? I said I wasn't hungry,” he claimed in defense while pulling his head away once he saw you bring a spoonful of omelette rice to his mouth.

“Just shut up and eat. I'm not living with the guilt for having you go through all this trouble for me.” You pulled out his sucker and replaced it with the awaiting spoon, not giving him time to argue back. He swallowed and looked away before muttering lowly.

“I'm not doing it for you.”

“Whatever you say…”

He begrudgingly let you feed him the whole food, chewing quietly and kept himself distracted on his phone. Unbeknownst to you and him, tints of pink adorned his cheeks.

Little did y'all know, Tamon's second year's vice captains had a good view, but decided to save themselves a scolding.

#did anyone miss me #wind breaker #dead for 2 months then came back graduating #that's what I call an entrance #wind breaker fluff #forgive me shall this fic contains severe character misunderstanding for I'm still new in this fandom #wind breaker x reader #sakura haruka #haruka sakura x reader #ren kaji x reader #hayato suo x reader #suo hayato x reader #umemiya hajime x reader #hajime umemiya x reader #hajime umemiya #ren kaji #suo hayato #wind breaker manga #wind breaker (satoru nii)

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ephie-om · 1 month ago

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Pure Mammon x reader fluff to make up for yesterday :))

Song: From the Start - Good Kid

CW: None

Day 2: Mammon

“I don't get what's so great about the sun.” Your guardian demon grumbled, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Huh?”

“The sun. All you humans whine and complain about how the Devildom doesn't have it. Well, I don't want a big ball of light telling me when to wake up and when to go to bed. Anything your sun does, we can do fine.”

You cock your head, confused by the fights this demon picks. “Well, it lights up everything for most of the day.”

“We have lightbulbs too. Way easier to turn off.”

“It gives important vitamins to humans we need to live.

“Yeah, we have food.”

“It warms up the whole planet, otherwise we'd freeze to death.”

“Oh wow, I've never even thought of that. Except- oh wait- a heater.” He scoffs at you. “See? Nothin’ special about the stupid sun.”

You walk through a busy Devildom market, towing your boyfriend along behind you. Mammon's arms were laden in bags he had insisted he carry, despite you offering to share the burden. You and Mammon had grown close quickly, even after your rough start at the beginning of the exchange program. The two of you fit together so perfectly that his brothers had teased the two of you about being a couple long before either of you had even brought it up. But it's undeniable how happy he makes you.

He finally catches up to you, momentarily distracted by something at a stall behind him. “I thought we were here for groceries.”

You stick out your tongue at him playfully. “Doesn't mean I can't have some fun while we're out.” You grab his hand and swing it back and forth as you walk.

A small jewelry stand up ahead catches your eye. Were you mistaken, or were those real human world stones? “I wanna look at those!” you exclaim, tugging on his hand.

“Hey, don't go runnin’ off like that!” He stumbles behind you. “What was that for?” You reach the stand, keeping a tight grip on his hand as you inspect the jewelry.

“Look Mams, they're real! Real human world jewels! This one is turquoise, this one is topaz, and I don't know what this one is but it's pretty!”

He finds himself with a stupid grin plastered on his face, the one that always finds him whenever you get happy like this. Seeing you smile makes him feel like it's just you and him. He swears it lights up the whole Devildom, makes him feel all warm inside. He doesn't think he could go a day without it.

“You remember what I said about the sun that one time?” he asks, rapidly changing the subject.

You laugh, remembering the moment. “You said it was stupid.”

“Well, I take it back.”

“You don't think it's useless any more?”

“Nah. It took me a long time, but I figured out what you were sayin’.”

You buy a few pieces, wasting no time in putting them on and modeling for him. He takes a couple pictures on his D. D. D. He sends one to the house group chat of you striking a flashy pose to show off a necklace with a purple stone. He holds your hand in the other picture, with a simple golden band on your finger studded with tiny opals. That one he saves to a personal album on his phone, marked only with a heart. He thinks for a moment, then goes to rename the album with a simple emoji of a sun.

#obey me #obey me swd #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me fluff #obey me mammon #obey me mammon x reader #obey me mammon x mc #omadventcalendar #ephie writes

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fics-and-quotes-andthelike · 8 months ago

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What Happens in the Shadows

Title: What Happens in the Shadows

Pairing: Alastor x reader

Word Count: ~5,155

In which Mimzy has suspicions about Alastor’s feelings towards the reader, and plans to use them to her advantage.

A/N: Part 4 of my Never and Always series

Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING (attempted assault), angst, fluff

Mimzy was a lot of things. She was loud, she was brash, she was showy, and she was bold. She was also, however, good at picking up a scent. Whether it was a good deal to be made, money to be earned, or an advantage to be won, Mimzy was there.

This usually led to one of two things.

One, she would get too confident, pushing herself into a corner when the tables inevitably turned against her, leaving her scrambling to the closest ally she had as a defense.

The second option was much more rare, when she would take her time, allowing herself to gather enough facts to truly know a demon’s weaknesses before pouncing and closing a deal. Though it didn’t happen often, those that did manage to fall under Mimzy’s control were there for eternity, serving and slaving away as she ever so slowly gathered more power.

Mimzy was ever so hungry for power, after all, even if she was bad at obtaining it.

Which is why, when she witnessed the small spectacle at her club between her dear friend Alastor and a lowly sinner who had done nothing but dance with a woman, the gears in her head had started to turn.

She had never mentioned the incident to anyone else, of course. She wasn’t stupid. She knew that the Radio Demon would have her head if she so much as breathed a word of it.

But he couldn’t stop her from thinking. He couldn’t stop her from watching. He couldn’t stop her from noticing. And he most definitely couldn’t stop her from coming.

~~~

“Ya think ya boyfriend would let mine go if you asked nicely?”

You flushed and looked away. “Alastor is not my boyfriend.”

Angel Dust winked over at you. “Uh-huh, sure. Whateva ya say, dollface.”

“He’s not,” you insisted. “We’re just friends.”

From his place behind the hotel bar, Husk put down the cup he was cleaning and looked up at you. “You and Angel are ‘just friends’. You and me? Just friends. You and Alastor?” He shook his head, picking up a new cup as he looked over at you with an expression of vague concern. “You’re more than that.”

“Ha!” Angel said as he pointed over at Husk in triumph.

You could feel embarrassment pooling into your stomach. “You’re both wrong. Al doesn’t-” you struggled to find the words. “Al doesn’t like anyone that way,” you said hesitantly. “And I know for a fact that he doesn’t like me that way. He just feels responsible for me now, that’s all.”

Husk huffed lightly, his eyes narrowing. “Alastor’s never felt responsible for anyone in his life. Not for the souls he’s collected, and definitely not for a sinner that doesn’t owe him any more than the dirt on her shoes.”

You looked away. “I do owe him,” you muttered. “He saved my life.”

Angel laughed forcefully. “That was his choice, toots. You don’t owe him nothin’, ya hear me?” He glanced over at you, his expression bordering on desperation as he searched your eyes.

Maybe you didn’t agree, but it wouldn’t do anybody any good to have Angel and Husk worrying over you with each passing moment while you stubbornly believed that Alastor was a good man who had earned your trust long ago.

So instead, you nodded, smiling softly. “I know.”

Angel nodded firmly, but the concern in his eyes was still overwhelmingly present.

You couldn’t blame him, of course, but you wished with all of your undead heart that the three most important people in your life would just get along. Not that it would ever happen while Alastor held Husk’s soul.

You let out a long exhale before you clapped your hands together and smiled over at the hotel’s bartender. “Alright, enough of that.”

Angel Dust’s expression relaxed as he turned to Husk as well. “She’s right. Pour me a drink.”

Husk returned your grin with one of his own, pouring the three of you a glass and sliding yours over.

The three of you sat in silence for a moment, staring down at your drinks as you thought. You couldn’t say exactly what was going on in Husk and Angel’s heads, but you knew that you personally were thinking about a specific radio-themed Overlord.

You hadn’t seen Alastor since the two of you had danced together in your bedroom a few days prior. It made sense that you hadn’t seen him the day after, of course. It was your day with Angel, and Alastor would love nothing less than to get involved in your makeover session.

The days after that though, were different. Normally, you’d at least catch a glimpse of the demon before he left the hotel to run his radio show or do whatever else Overlords did in their free time. If you weren’t able to catch him before he left, he would always drop by the hotel a little later on, even if just for a moment. But no matter what, he would always stop by your room at the end of the day, and the two of you would just talk.

But now, you hadn’t seen or heard from Alastor in days. You weren’t worried, per say. You knew he was more than capable of taking care of himself. You did miss him, though, and you would be lying if you said that you weren’t looking forward to your next evening conversation.

You drummed your hands lightly on the counter before shifting off of your barstool. It wasn’t likely that Alastor had finally stopped by, but it wouldn’t hurt to check. “I think I’m going to turn in for the night.”

Angel Dust quirked an eyebrow at you playfully. “Sure thing, toots. Just goin’ to bed, nothin’ to do with Smiles at all, right?”

You blushed and turned away, walking towards the staircase leading up to your room. “Goodnight.”

“Have fun,” Angel called up after you as you climbed the stairs and walked down the hallway to your room as quickly as possible.

You breathed a deep sigh of relief when you were able to reach your bedroom without any more comments from Angel. Though, that was probably courtesy of Husk. You made a mental note to thank him in the morning.

You closed your door behind you and leaned against it with a sigh.

Something flitted across your vision. You jerked back.

The object popped up in front of you, causing you to bite back a scream before you recognized it as Alastor’s shadow.

You huffed in annoyance and pushed away from your door, walking around the shadow and making your way to your bed before plopping yourself down. “That was absolutely unnecessary,” you said.

The shadow only smiled, quickly weaving its way over to sit beside you. It took your hand and raised it, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

You blushed. “Fine, I forgive you,” you said with a giggle.

The shadow’s smile broadened, using its other hand to gently put its claws to your throat as your laughter slowed.

“Not that I don’t love to see you,” you said as your eyes took a quick scan of your room. “But where’s Alastor?” The shadow made a small noise before reaching back and pulling a note off of your nightstand. It turned your hand over to place the folded piece of paper in your palm.

You pulled your hand back and opened the note, your eyes skimming over it as you tried to keep your heart from sinking.

It was a short note, and straight to the point. Alastor wouldn’t be coming back to the hotel that night due to some unfinished business with gaining new territory. He didn’t know when he’d be back. He wished you a good night.

You folded the note again and placed it in between yourself and the shadow. “It’s alright,” you said, forcing a smile on your face. “I understand.”

But the shadow’s smile had lessened significantly, and it stared at you almost expectantly.

“I’m fine, really,” you insisted. “I know he’s busy. I’m just glad he’s okay.”

The shadow looked unconvinced. But, you noticed with disappointment, its eyes had started to flicker back to your window.

“You need to go,” you said. It wasn’t a question.

The shadow looked back at you regretfully.

You reached out and placed your hands on its cheeks, lowering its head until your foreheads touched. “I’ll be okay,” you said quietly. “I promise.”

You released it and moved back.

The shadow caught your hands and pulled you back in, pressing a kiss to each of your palms before pressing them to its chest where its beating heart would have been. It gave you one last long look before it released you and melted back into the shadows, disappearing out your window.

You stared after it for a moment. Part of you wished that it had been Alastor who had come into your room and kissed your palms goodnight. The other, less selfish part of you knew that he had done the best that he could, and you appreciated it more than words could say.

“Don’t worry, he’s always like this,” a voice said from the other side of your room.

You nearly jumped out of your skin as you spun around, searching for its source.

Mimzy stepped forward from the shadows and gave you a sickening smile. “It doesn't mean he doesn't care about you.”

“What are you doing here?” you blurted without thinking. Your hands clutched your bed sheets as she approached you as casually as you would approach a friend in public. But you weren’t in public. And you most definitely weren’t friends.

“Oh, don’t give me that, doll,” Mimzy said with a wave of her hand. “I’ve been dying to see you ever since Al brought you to my club.”

“Why?” you asked before pressing your lips together. It wouldn’t do you any good to antagonize her, you knew. But you couldn’t seem to stop yourself. “What do you want from me?”

A small voice in the back of your head wondered how she had managed to slink into the shadows and avoid Alastor’s. Shadows were part of his domain, after all. Shouldn’t he have sensed her?

Mimzy’s smile changed into something more sinister. “I don’t want anything from you, doll. You’re a sweet little thing, but-” she looked you up and down with a note of disdain. “I have a feeling you wouldn’t make me much revenue.”

You felt an anger flare up inside of you. You stood, crossing your arms and pasting what you hoped was a firm expression on your face. “If you don’t want anything from me, why go out of your way to sneak into my room?”

The club owner’s smile only grew. “Relax, sugar, I’m not here to trick you into services. I’m here to talk about ol’ Alastor.”

You tried to hide the surprise and fear that shot through your core. “What about him?”

“Well,” Mimzy said with nonchalance as she began to stroll through your bedroom, poking at your belongings. “We both know that he tends to keep to himself. Not many friends, but loads of enemies, am I right? But he’s really just a sweetheart, that’s why we’ve been friends for years now.”

You blinked. “Alright.”

“But,” Mimzy continued, her voice oddly sweet. “I noticed the other night that he’s taken a bit of a shine to you.”

You dropped your arms and shook your head. “That’s not true. Alastor and I-”

Mimzy waved a hand dismissively. “Now, I’m not one to stir up unnecessary drama. But Al’s my friend, so I’ve been a bit worried about him since then.” She turned to look at you, her eyes boring intently into yours. “He’s an Overlord, you know. Lots of enemies. If any of them find out about you, think about what it’ll do to his reputation. Or worse,” she said, her eyes widening dramatically as she placed her hands on her cheeks. “His power.”

You flinched.

If you were being honest, the very same thought had crossed your mind more than once. Every time you went out with Alastor, even for a brief moment, you worried about being seen with him. You worried what it would do for his image.

He had been quick to ease your concerns, reassuring you that nobody would dare cross him, even if he were to be seen with you.

Even so, you had noticed that he was careful to never touch you, and rarely ever look at you, when the two of you were in public.

But, it seemed, despite all of his precautions, that your night together at Mimzy’s might have started something that you had feared from the very beginning.

You swallowed heavily, meeting Mimzy’s gaze as you repeated the same words that Alastor had said to you, time and time again. “Nobody would dare cross the Radio Demon.”

Mimzy nodded enthusiastically in agreement. “Of course they wouldn’t, sugar. But they might mess with you. And if Al cares about you half as much as I think he does, well, that’ll be enough to ruin everything that he’s ever worked for.”

You bit your lip with worry. You were never quite as good as Alastor when it came to hiding your emotions. “So why did you come to me?”

The demoness shrugged. “I knew Al would never listen if I told him that you were bad for him.”

You winced.

“But,” she continued, “I thought maybe you could convince him.”

An alarm bell began to ring in the back of your mind. “Convince him of what?” you asked wearily.

“To keep his distance from you,” Mimzy said, a little too quickly for your liking. “The longer you stick around, the more he gets attached. And the more he gets attached, well…” she smiled, her teeth sharp and her eyes dark. “The more likely it is that our old friend gets tossed out of commission.”

Your gaze hardened. “You want me to stay away from Al? Fat chance.”

Mimzy laughed, the sound forced and brittle. “Not at all, sugar. I won’t be the one who ripped the two of you apart.” She began walking towards your bedroom door. “In fact, I think you two are adorable together. But, you see, it’s not just Alastor I’m looking out for. I’ve gotta take care of myself, too,” she said as she turned to face you.

You recoiled at the sight of her hardened eyes and cruel expression.

Your bedroom door opened, revealing two large demons that closed the door behind them, blocking your exit. You whirled around as another demon entered through your window, cutting off your only other means of escape.

“Mimzy-” you began.

“Don’t you worry, doll. They can’t exactly kill you again, can they?” she giggled. “They’ll just rough you up a little so that Alastor can finally come to his senses.”

“What are you talking about?” you asked as panic began to set in.

“Let me explain it in simple terms for you, hun. I need you to help me break Alastor and get him away from you. Whether or not you help me willingly is completely up to you,” she said with a shrug.

“If Al does care about me,” you said desperately, “then it won’t do any good for you to hurt me. This is just going to make things worse for him. It’ll make him angry. He’ll lash out.”

Mimzy’s eerie grin only grew in size. “Oh, I’m counting on it, sugar. I can’t exactly gain more territory with the Radio Demon breathing down everyone’s neck. If I can get to him through you, he’ll be too upset to think straight.” She chuckled. “If I’m lucky, he’ll be the cause of his own downfall. With him out of the way, things can be the way they’re meant to be.”

The three demons surrounding you came closer.

“Mimzy,” you gasped. “Please, don’t do this. Alastor’s one of your oldest friends, he doesn’t deserve this.”

The club owner tilted her head in consideration. “Well, I suppose I can make an exception.” Her teeth flashed. “If you were willing to cut a deal with me.”

The demons grew closer still.

You could feel your resolve faltering. One measly deal to get out of this mess didn’t sound too bad. But as you looked back over at Mimzy, her eyes flashing and her smile turning into a snarl, the voice in your head that screamed out to protect Alastor came to the forefront of your mind with full force. Any deal that you made with Mimzy would only be used to hurt Alastor, and you would never forget how you had met him in the first place.

He had saved you once. You weren’t going to make him save you again.

You straightened and stared straight into Mimzy’s eyes. “I hope you get what’s coming to you,” you spat.

The sinner shrugged. “Whatever you say, doll. Have fun, fellas!”

You heard your door open and close as the demons drew nearer, blocking your view.

A deep fear spread throughout your body, starting in your chest and working its way out. You could scream, but you were almost certain that Mimzy had found a way to mute the sounds from your room to the rest of the hotel. Nobody was coming to save you.

You squeezed your eyes shut and braced yourself as a feeling of regret shot through your heart. You had never thanked Husk for having your back. You had never finished your makeover with Anthony. You had never told your friends how much they had helped you, and how much you appreciated them.

You had never told Alastor that you loved him.

You let out a sob. You cursed yourself for crying.

A hand grabbed your arm roughly, your eyes flying open in horror. But before the demon could do so much as pull you closer, a shadow swept through your window and across the room, knocking the other two demons away from you. The third demon tightened his grip on your arm, but it was already much too late.

The lights in your room began to flicker as a new shadow entered your room. It grew in size, becoming more and more solid until it finally took the shape of one of the most feared Overlords in Hell.

“I do believe,” Alastor said to the last standing demon as his antlers began to grow and his eyes began to flicker. “You have something that belongs to me.”

You didn’t wait to hear the demon’s response before you shut your eyes and turned away. You knew what came next, and though you had yet to argue with Alastor over his methods, you had no wish to see them for yourself.

The demon’s hand was ripped from your arm. Even without your sight, you were able to hear the screams of all three intruders as Alastor and his shadow punished them a mere feet away from you.

You sank down onto the ground, keeping your eyes closed as you pulled your knees up to your chest and buried your head in your arms. The tears that had begun to flow earlier suddenly returned with a vengeance, making their way down your cheeks as you sobbed violently.

You’re safe. You’re safe. Al is here now. You’re safe, you thought to yourself as you pulled your knees in tighter.

But another, horrible voice spoke up as you cried. He wasn’t able to see Mimzy, it said. Why wasn’t he able to see Mimzy? If this happens again, will he know? Will he miss it?

Can he save me?

You gasped and whipped your head up when a gentle hand brushed your arm.

Alastor was staring right back at you, kneeling on your floor. His smile was tense and close-lipped, his expression concerned. “It’s only me, mon chere.”

You glanced behind him and noticed vaguely that Mimzy’s three demons were nowhere to be seen.

Your chest began to hitch as you tried to hold your tears back. “I’m so sorry, Al,” you said, hating the way your voice broke. “I should have been able to defend myself, I’m so sorry.” The tears began again, your body slumping forward as you began to weep.

A pair of arms caught you and gathered your body closer until you were resting against a warm chest.

Al’s shadow, you thought to yourself as you nuzzled closer.

One of its arms wrapped around your back, holding you close, while its other hand grasped one of yours and pressed it to its chest. It held you tightly, allowing you to cry and hiccup into its shoulder.

You weren’t sure how long you sat there before your sobs became whimpers, and your whimpers became hiccups. You weren’t sure how long it held you before you were able to breathe properly.

The hand holding yours released you gently, coming up to wipe your tears away from your face.

You finally opened your swollen eyes, already regretting having been found in such a vulnerable state.

You came face to face with Alastor’s shadow. Holding Alastor’s staff.

Standing across the room.

You gasped and pulled back violently, causing yourself to fall out of Alastor’s lap and onto your floor.

The Overlord didn’t react, instead watching you with an expressionless smile on his face.

“I thought you were your shadow,” you stammered. “I didn’t realize-”

“I do hope you aren’t going to apologize for reacting to the given situation, my dear,” Alastor said as he tilted his head at you. He sounded, much to your surprise, mildly annoyed.

You froze. “Are you mad at me?”

A flash of irritation appeared in the Overlord’s eyes as his teeth gleamed. “We’ve now spent a notable amount of time together. I do hope you know me a bit better than that.” His voice held a note of challenge.

You sniffed and brought your knees to your chest once again without a response.

Alastor’s eyes softened and his smile eased at the sight of your trembling form. He sighed, the sound revealing an internal exhaustion that he would never admit to out loud. “I assure you, mon chere, my anger does not lie with you.”

You nodded, looking away.

Silence. Deep silence.

But you couldn’t avoid the upcoming conversation forever.

“People have seen us together, Al,” you finally said, your throat raw. You looked up at him. “People who want to take your power.”

You didn’t miss the way the demon’s smile tensed.

“I won’t be the reason that you lose everything you’ve built so far,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “You deserve more than what I can give you.”

Alastor stood abruptly, climbing gracefully to his feet before offering you one of his clawed hands and pulling you up beside him.

He released you and grasped your chin in between his fingers, tilting your head up to face him.

“Any demon who hopes to steal my power is going to find themselves sorely disappointed, my dear, regardless of whether or not your presence is noticed.” His eyes hardened. “I am more than capable of holding on to what I’ve gained.”

“You couldn’t sense Mimzy,” you blurted, regretting the words as they left your lips, but unable to stop them. “You didn’t realize she was there until-” you swallowed. “What if it happens again, but this time they come for you?” You hated how desperate you sounded. “What if they hurt you, Al?”

The Overlord tilted his head. His smile twitched and his grip only strengthened as he looked down at you with something resembling regret. “I do admit that both myself and my shadow were a bit distracted during its visit, and I do apologize for not preventing this whole ordeal before it ever began.”

“That’s not what I meant-” you started weakly.

Alastor’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Though I can promise you that such a thing will never happen again, mon chere. Not while I still stand.”

You didn’t respond. Not because you doubted his ability to take care of you, of course. But because you didn’t want this added responsibility to prevent him from taking care of himself.

“I do hope,” the demon continued, the static in his voice suddenly disappearing as he searched your gaze. “That you haven’t finally begun to doubt me.”

You shook your head as well as you were able to with his fingers still clutching your jaw. “No,” you whispered. “Never.”

And in a rare display of courage, you reached out, placing your hands gently on either side of the Radio Demon’s face as he released your jaw. You pulled him down until your foreheads met. “Never,” you repeated, your voice firm. “And if you really aren’t worried, and you want me to stay, then I will.” You pulled back to look into his eyes. “I’ll stay with you. Always.”

Alastor’s hands reached up and settled on top of yours as his eyes bore into you. “That’s quite the commitment, my dear,” he said. There was something strange in his voice, something that sounded almost like uncertainty, almost like tension, almost like fear.

Your grip on his face tightened as you looked up at him. “I mean it, Al. I’ll stay with you, if you’ll have me. If you’re sure.”

Now, there were a great many things that Alastor would never do. He’d never make a deal that he wasn’t in control of. He’d never submit to the Vees. He’d never tell Charlie the real reason that he was in her hotel.

He’d never tell you that he loved you.

But, he found as he stared into your eyes, he would absolutely give up everything that he’d ever built if it meant that he got to keep you.

“I don’t intend to lose anything, my dear. Least of all you.”

You blushed, maintaining eye contact as a gentle smile took the place of your previous frown.

Alastor leaned forward. You followed his lead, expecting to press your forehead to his, when he surprised you by placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

You pulled back and smiled up at him before pulling him down to place your own kiss on his cheek.

Maybe Mimzy was right. Maybe you were something of a danger to the Radio Demon. But you’d be double-damned if you were going to give up on him so easily.

“Now,” Alastor said, his eyes flashing dangerously as he released you and stepped back. His shadow surged forward, returning Alastor’s staff to its rightful owner and standing behind its master with a chilling grin.

Alastor faced you, his smile gentle and his eyes hard as the static returned to his voice with full force. “Would you care to give me the name of the foolish soul who tried to harm what was mine?”

~~~

Nobody had seen or heard from Mimzy in days.

Three new screams had joined the Radio Demon’s broadcast.

You’d been too afraid to leave the hotel for a few days.

Alastor had begun checking your room every night before leaving you alone.

Nobody else at the hotel knew what had happened to you. Not even Angel and Husk.

You gained back your courage in the following weeks with help from Alastor.

The two of you had grown closer than ever.

Nobody had seen or heard from Mimzy in weeks.

~~~

You leaned back against your bed’s headboard, watching as Alastor had his shadow sweep through your room once again.

“I’m fine, Al,” you said, trying to contain your laughter. “Really. Nobody else is going to get in. There’s locks on the windows, and your room is close enough to be able to hear if something goes wrong.”

Alastor hummed in acknowledgement, though his eyes continued to roam around your room until he was satisfied.

He turned to you with a grin. “I’m only protecting what is mine, mon cœur.” He turned to your door, walking away from you with his shadow following close behind. “I do expect to see you bright and early in the morning for a short stroll.”

It was your turn to hum in agreement.

You were more than thrilled with the offer, of course, but you felt a sense of unease that threatened to keep you up all night. You didn’t doubt Alastor’s abilities, of course, but you worried about what might happen to him if he was attacked while he was momentarily distracted with keeping you safe.

Alastor’s hand reached towards your doorknob. “I bid you a good night, my dear.”

“Will you stay with me tonight?” you blurted before you could lose your courage.

Alastor froze in place, his hand hovering. His shadow, however, was much more reactive. It leapt up in excitement and made its way back over to your bed, jumping in beside you and nuzzling its head against your cheek.

You giggled and pulled away, allowing the shadow to slowly run a clawed hand from the base of your throat up to your chin before looking back over at its owner.

He had turned to look at you, a fond expression on his face as he watched the interaction.

“Only if you want to, of course,” you said hurriedly as your smile began to slip. “I don’t mean to pressure you.”

Alastor waved a hand dismissively before he made his way over to you. “You couldn’t pressure me if you tried, my dear.”

Your heart soared as you moved over, giving him enough room to not have to even brush against you during the night.

The Overlord climbed into your bed easily, settling against your headboard before looking down at you with a raised eyebrow. “I do hope you weren’t expecting me to sleep.”

You smiled. “Not at all.” You began to shuffle around to get comfortable and to avoid looking into his eyes when you said, “I just feel safer when you’re here, that’s all.”

The last words of your sentence had hardly left your lips before Alastor’s shadow finally moved from its place on your other side. You laughed as it nudged you over before wrapping its arms around you and pulling your back to its chest, giving you a sense of security that you had never found with anyone else.

You closed your eyes and nuzzled in, allowing yourself to be swept away in a wave of comfort and exhaustion. “Goodnight, Al,” you murmured as you drifted away. “Thank you. For everything.”

You fell asleep before you could hear his response.

So you didn’t see his eyes soften. You didn’t see him reach out and grasp one of your hands in his own. You didn’t see him lean down and press a soft kiss to your temple. You didn’t hear his last words before he began to doze as well.

“Thank you, mon cœur.”

Part 5 Here!

A/N 2: I really hope you guys enjoyed this one!! This is an ongoing series, so let me know if you’d like to be tagged!

I’d also like to continue writing for Hazbin Hotel, so send me requests and let me know if you’d like to be tagged in any those as well :))

Taglist: @severusminerva @anh4125 @midorichoco @rapturenyx @maybememoriesx @martinys-world @axellovesalastor @mo-0-o @looking1016 @saturn-alone @sirens-and-moonflowers

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vidavalor · 1 month ago

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Uriel

Uriel refusing to kill Maggie and Nina is such a huge twist.

These angels are supposed to see humans as beneath them and be living for Armageddon. They've been anticipating for millennia the deaths of everyone on Earth and only the righteous being judged fit for eternal life in The Second Coming. Uriel doesn't know Maggie and Nina from, well, Adam (ha)-- they're just two humans to her. Their deaths should mean nothing to her... if she is listening to what The Metatron says.

Her refusal to kill them is just one of the things that says she's started not to do so...

Uriel is expected to help kill everyone on Earth in a matter of days when Armageddon begins. 2.06 reveals that she is actually horrified at the thought of killing a single human. She silently refuses to do it.

In the S2 finale, we're basically watching Uriel begin to rebel against Heaven in earnest in real time... and this isn't even the only time that she does.

Some like recognizing like here, as well, as Crowley sees and understands Uriel's hesitation and jumps in to save Maggie and Nina, most importantly, but also to distract in an effort to help Uriel. He respects her decision to not want to kill.

Shades of Sitis about to curse God and be punished by the angels and Crowley rushing in to cause a distraction to save her and help with the kids.

While all the other representatives of Heaven and Hell are arguing over who gets to punish Gabriel and Beez, only two people argue in favor of Gabriel and Beez being free and choosing their own fate:

Aziraphale... and Uriel.

Watch the below moment again and note Uriel's reaction to Gabriel choosing a life of his own with Beez over Heaven... especially compared to the two angels standing beside her.

Saraqael's expression is one of contempt. Michael is rolling her eyes, as Gabriel is directing that "Beez is my Heaven" comment in her direction. She doesn't seem to know what to do with this, as is generally the case with most stuff with Michael. 😂 Uriel, though?

She's looking contemplative. She's looking thoughtful. She's looking sympathetic. Uriel is looking like someone who doesn't really have a problem with an angel living a life of their own or being in love with a demon.

Uriel looks like someone who probably has thought about this before but never thought she had the power to do anything about it and is now standing in Aziraphale's bookshop with Aziraphale and his demon boyfriend and their human friends who were just here and are just like all of the rest of them and she's seeing that The Supreme Archangel of Heaven-- whom she's always liked-- is saying that they don't all have to live the way that they always have. They don't all have to hate each other.

It's Uriel who shocks once again by being the one to try to come up with a solution that doesn't involve punishing Gabriel and Beez.

Uriel's plan is really nothing more than what Gabriel and Beez already plan to do anyway. She tells them that if they were to leave, they could never come back. Gabriel confirms that the point of what he and Beez are doing is that they're leaving Heaven and Hell and choosing a life of their own. That the point is that they aren't letting themselves be defined by Heaven and Hell.

Uriel looks sad about the idea that Gabriel wants to leave. They like and trust him. They're worried about what comes of Heaven without him. Gabriel is literally a fugitive at this point in 2.06. He can't come back to Heaven without The Metatron trying to kill him and Uriel knows that. Uriel appears to believe, as most of the characters do at this point, that The Metatron is the spokesperson for God, as we can see in the scene below.

So, she believes that when Gabriel was punished at his trial that he was punished by God. That God took the job from Gabriel and tried to kill him. Yet, in 2.06, Uriel sounds awfully close to telling Gabriel that she'd back him if he wanted to fight for it. Uriel refuses to kill humans and she shows open support to Gabriel, who is on the run from Heaven. She's defying what she believes God said was the final word on it because she trusts her own moral compass and that of Gabriel's more.

Furthering this, she sees Gabriel and Aziraphale caring about and for Beez and Crowley, who are supposed to be the angels' eternal enemies, and Uriel supporting Gabriel after that shows that she doesn't agree with what's happened to angels who have rebelled.

Uriel feels alone up there without knowing that Gabriel's got the place and you could argue that she's jockeying for power with Michael the whole season because she-- wisely-- doesn't trust Michael with it the way she does Gabriel. The problem here is that there is, at present, no way for Gabriel to come back, even if he wanted to, because The Metatron is the issue. It also shouldn't be Gabriel's sole responsibility to carry Heaven on his shoulders.

If they want to fix it, they all need to do that together.

Of all the characters, Uriel seems to be closest to realizing that.

It also lends another layer to a scene where the motivations for its inclusion-- beyond the humor of it-- are still a bit debatable: the scene of Crowley riding the elevator down to Earth with the angels.

Funny old world, isn't it?, says Crowley, calling back to Ligur's it'd be a funny old world if angels and demons went around trusting one another... and maybe this scene is telling us which ones are trustworthy, at least in this moment.

Saraqael, in this scene, looks at Crowley with suspicion; Michael, with grumpy Michaelness; Muriel, with almost comic terror at having been caught up in this plot and now in the elevator with the archangels. All of this is predictable with what we've seen of these characters to the point of this scene. None of it is surprising. Uriel, though?

Uriel is a shock here. Uriel is having trouble looking at Aziraphale's boyfriend in the dark glasses at all and, when she does, it's with a shocking amount of guilt and regret.

Crowley made the elevator ride down something of a dark joke when he transformed his clothes in the elevator from his angel look back into his usual look while they were all "falling down" to Earth. He's mocking them-- the angels who threw him out and are now going with him to Earth. Uriel has the grace to look ashamed at how she's treated him.

That is all before the bookshop group scenes and Uriel seeing Gabriel again and learning to whom he went for help. She already was against Heaven's treatment of the angels they labeled demons.

Has she always been? Is Uriel like Gabriel and Crowley and Beez and putting on a show to survive more than she is a true believer? Has she always been an angel who goes along with Heaven as far as she can, too?

It would add an interesting layer to this scene from S1:

I finally figured out who Uriel reminded me of in the start of this moment:

Remember in S1 when Aziraphale had found Adam and was in the bookshop, testing out ways to approach Gabriel with the information? He's talking to himself, practicing different addresses, all "Oh, Most Holy Archangel Gabriel", etc., and then dismissing them because he knows Gabriel isn't going to buy it? Uriel's basically doing that for real in 2.06 with Our Villain.

What's interesting about Uriel addressing whom she believes is The Metatron in this moment in 2.06 is that she is deferential but in this sort of over-the-top way-- she's laying it on thick. That becomes apparent when we hear her question-- and, more importantly, the tone of it.

It's Uriel who asks if they've done "anything wrong." She's almost daring God via The Metatron to say she was wrong to not kill and to back Gabriel. Uriel is literally looking at who they believe to be the word of God and asking the question of whether or not what she's chosen to do was against God.

It's also of note that Uriel didn't have to say "we" but she spoke up for the other angels with her. She took charge of the situation, after a season of questioning the idea that it was within their own power to decide who was in charge. This is the difference between a leader and a manager, as was the "duty officer" debate between Michael and Uriel all season.

Throughout S2, Michael is focused on power. She believes herself best suited to takeover for Gabriel and anoints herself his successor. She is more concerned with titles and wielding authority, though, than she is with people. A manager can dole out assignments and assign resources and be concerned with maintaining order and punishment and Michael's probably not that bad a manager (not that great of one, either, mind)... but she's an awful leader. Good leadership requires setting aside ego to focus on others and serving a greater good than yourself. It means putting others first and it seems that Uriel has come to realize that this.

The conclusion to the Michael vs. Uriel for leadership plot in S2 is that Michael falls on her face by being corrupted by absolute power while Uriel, when tested, doesn't just think of herself, but defends Muriel, Saraqael, and even Michael-- the latter two of whom actually behaved terribly. Uriel protects them to offer them chances to be better. They are her people and she assumes responsibility for what has happened. She's the actual leader here, not Michael.

She's actually a lot like Gabriel in this way.

Uriel is not going to fight this Armageddon war. If she can't kill Maggie and Nina, she's not going to try to kill every being on Earth. If it comes down to choosing sides-- and it will-- she has already sided with Gabriel.

Maybe Uriel didn't understand it when it was just Aziraphale. Maybe she did but wasn't brave enough to speak out then. But when Uriel saw that Gabriel, the leader she looked up to and cared about and who had always been kind to her, thought Aziraphale was right? She realized that it was okay to have secretly believed all along that he was. She saw them all banding together and their power increasing as a result of supporting one another and realized, maybe more than the rest of them have yet, that a rebellion was beginning.

Uriel is a just an angel who goes along with Heaven as far as she can and she's reached that furthest point. The Metatron should watch out because he doesn't know it yet but he's not really down one archangel-- he's down two.

In Uriel, he's lost the smart one with the best bullshit detector so, basically, it's all over for the floating head already. 😉

#good omens #uriel good omens #the archangel fucking gabriel #michael good omens #good omens 2 #good omens speculation #crowley #aziraphale

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satorudoll · 1 year ago

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Gojo saying he hates taking care of brats and then becoming the best dad ever 🤫

💌! anon, you have NO IDEA what that panel of jjk going around was doing to me. Toru literally my cutest hubby ^^

You still remember meeting the grumpy and dork of a seventeen year old manchild when you entered the Jujutsu high's hallways for the very first time.

Your most core memories of him being the ones where he used to accompany you to your part time jobs, to babysit little kids.

While the three year old would be building blocks on the ground in front of you both, Satoru thinking of himself as the sly one would try scooting closer to your side on the couch. Softly grazing your hand and closing his one over it as he'd lean in to whisper something along the lines of,

"Baby, I think this is an amazing time to makeout before this utter nuisance turns his head arou—"

His words being cut off short with the ripping cries of the three year old who'd start to kick his feet and throw all his blocks around in pure anger.

Satoru would heave the loudest sigh,

"Baby please I just need a quick peck plea–"

But you would immediately stand up in panic and lift the child up in your arms, completely falling deaf to your touch deprived boyfriend.

"Satoru I think the baby pooped! " You exclaimed, turning the little boy left and right in the air.

"ew— EW! " Your boyfriend's second signal of disgust getting louder at what you did next, as quick as Satoru was to scrunch his face in disgust, you too were as fast to shove the three year old sobbing boy in your boyfriend's face. Forcing him to hold the baby.

"Hold him tight! I'll be right back with some new nappies and wipes! "

You stormed off, not caring about the way your boyfriend was screaming in pure horror along with the sobbing baby.

"Stop—" He tried to push the baby as far away from his nose as possible, "Stop! I'll actually die if your nasty stuff gets a anywhere on my skin! " He is yelling in pure fear, as if the kid was understanding whatever he was saying.

"Oh my holy lord, Y/n, please get here fast. I don't think I have too much time left! " He is crying out for you as the baby's face gets redder, cheeks puffier and his tiny legs kicking madly in the air the longer he stares at the snowy haired guy's disgusted face. Satoru was shriveling in pure terror by every passing second.

As soon as you enter the room with all the necessary materials Satoru dramatically gasped in relief, as if he just saw Jesus himself walk in to save him from his death.

He watches you and the baby from the couch with his big blue eyes stretched wide in disgust as you are in the process of cleaning the little one up.

"They better pay you a good chunk for that" He continues to comment while continuing to curl himself up in a ball .

You roll your eyes and turn to face Satoru who looked like he was in a Lion's den.

"Why don't to try putting his diaper on? " You ask, holding up the new pair of diaper.

"No! What if that demon has some poop left sticking around his butt! "

You sigh loud, "Toru, I cleaned him well. He is fine."

"But–" He stops, seeing the way your eyes were literally judging him at this point,

"Ugh– fine! But don't cry for me when I get his poop on my hand and die on spot! "

He walks towards you both, stomping and looking all moody and pouty in annoyance. Slumping down and snatching the new diaper from your hand while mumbling a "only coz I love you too much" while still looking annoyed as hell, but you couldn't help the small smile that slips on your face while looking at how he acts no different than the three year old right in front of you.

As the baby stares at Satoru's pouty and moody face who was wondering which side of the diaper was supposed to be in the front, the little boy lets out a hearty giggle.

That catches Satoru's attention.

Satoru raises a brow,

"Oh, So you wanna get along now? " The grown seventeen year old questions, making the baby coo and kick his feet.

Satoru's pout slowly lifts into a smile at that.

"Well, You don't seem like that bad of a guy yourself. Maybe we can get along after all." He shrugs with a smirk.

"watch me babe, I just know well enough how to make these little poopers laugh." He says in confidence and you fold your arms, watching them with a raised brow and big smile.

"Here comes superhero Gojo to save the nakey baby's day! " He lets out, in the most childish playful tone, something you were yet to experience from a 'tough guy' like him up until now.

The baby bursts out in laughter, Your smile turning into a huge grin at the sight

"Superhero Gojo?? Say that again, lemme record it! " You laugh out loud, getting up immediately to look for your cellphone

"Hello? Don't try making fun of me, I'm getting into the charac— "

Oh, the baby loves interrupting the seventeen year old boy's moments for sure.

But this one seemed like straight up hate crime to Satoru,

The baby shoots his pee right at his face.

Your jaw drops down and your eyes go wide in literal shock at the sudden occurrence and you completely freeze on your steps.

As for Satoru,

Boy, he was way too deeply traumatized to move himself right away, Eyes squeezed shut tight he felt like his soul leave his body as all his limbs suddenly became stiff and completely paralyzed.

"Oh my– Satoru— " You were trying so hard not to give up everything and burst in a fit of laughter at the entire scene that unfolded right in front of your eyes.

The baby, however, seemed to be having the best time of his life, giving out the most hearty belly laughter as he finished his work on your boyfriend's face.

"Y/n— i think— I think I'm gonna lose my six eyes— I can't open my eyes—" His hands trying to reach out for you

"Satoru! You are not even trying to open them- let's wash your face!" You immediately put the diaper on the baby yourself before grabbing your boyfriend's hand and guiding his soulless body to the nearest washroom.

As you were saying goodbye to the little boy who was in his mother's arms, you couldn't help but notice how he was staring at Satoru in disgust with his nose scrunched.

You turn to take a glance at Satoru who was holding a tight lipped smile at the boy while waving goodbye. Trying to hard to not humble the baby in front of his mom.

The walk back home that day was quite, none of you really spoke. Satoru looked like he wanted to go back to his room and dive his face straight into the blankets.

You shouldn't be surprised, None of the kids you took care of really got along with Satoru. Most either ended up pulling locks of his hair or throwing their toys at his face. You don't even know why he was still so up about accompanying you every weekend.

You both pause as you finally reach the gates of Jujutsu high,

The awkward silence starting to make you feel bad for what he had to keep going through.

"Did you see how that little clown was looking at me? After I let him pee on my precious face, that too ?!" He finally bursts in utter shock.

"Satoru, I'm sorry.." you sigh, but as much as you felt sad for him you pursed your lips, concealing a laugh.

"You know — My mom always taught me when I was a kid to never befriend your enemies, Look what happened! You just can never be good to anyone these days! This is how people end up walking all over you!" He continued to rant,

as much as you were thinking he wasn't being serious, your boyfriend's tightly knit brows and fuming face told you otherwise.

"Ugh.." He grunts in annoyance before shoving his hands in his pant pockets, looking down, kicking one of the small pebbles on the ground

"This was my last straw.. I never wanna get stuck babysitting a brat ever again" He mumbles in pure annoyance.

It's been ten years since,

the image of the childish dramatic teen still so fresh in your memories, the guy who would always mumble an 'oh god, lets run' or 'another one of satan's poop' whenever you both would be out together and spot kids running in the streets.

A soft smile spreading across your lips as you pull the duvets down at the sudden burst of memories, slowly peeling your eyes open, vision trying to adjust to the big white and beige decorated bedroom.

You get up on your feet when you hear the noise of utensils clanking coming from the kitchen.

Taking small, lazy strides you walk towards the kitchen in your white oversized shirt and fuzzy woolen brown socks.

Rubbing your eyes as you pause on your steps and stare at the scene in front of you at the kitchen.

"Does my Kana like it??" You watch the snowy haired male softly question the two year old who was sat on the marble counter.

The little baby girl nods her chubby face and suddenly clasps both sides of the spoon in her tiny palms, trying to pull back the spoon that Satoru was holding, closer to her mouth, the little baby spoon seemingly containing some yogurt.

Satoru was sitting down the floor on his knees in front of the counter where your little baby was placed, The grown man was in just a pair of his checkered red sweatpants, without even a shirt on in the cold freezing temperature. All his previous scars scattered around his bare skin that ran all the way up to his face still visible well enough, One that you and your baby girl used to cry over when they were in healing process, but grew to love so much now. As you stand there and stare at them your memories took you back again to show the contrast between the once boyish dorky seventeen year old who had now grown up into the man right in front of you.

Satoru was too focused on the little girl to notice your presence, his big blue eyes staring up at the two year old who was swinging her small feet and staring back at her dad with big doe eyes.

"wait– let papa tie up kana's hair or it'll get in your mouth, baby" he smiles, giving her messy white hair that matches his, a gentle stroke. As soon as Satoru stands up, the tiny girl forwards both her hands and starts making grabby hands at the huge man.

"pa– pa! " She coos trying to reach out to him.

"c'mere my little softie" He chuckles, quickly lifting her off the counter and letting her chin fall slump on his bare shoulders, her big glowing eyes finally falls on you while she is sucking onto her thumb messily and almost drooling all over her dad's bare shoulder, Satoru who was busy looking for her little barbie hair tie couldn't seem to care at the moment.

"pa! ma– ! ma wakey !" she immediately points at you in surprise, causing your husband to immediately turn around to face you.

Your lips melt into the softest smile at your little girl's baby voice.

"morning to the best girl " you giggle, walking up to them and landing a big smooch on her forehead.

"morning honey" Your husband throws a wide lazy grin at you, his snowy white hair still tousled and messy, eyes still looking a bit puffy, signaling he too woke up not long ago.

"morning Toru bear " you smile,

he immediately leans in to try kissing you.

You try scooting away,

"Ugh, I haven't brushed yet—" you groan, trying to block his face,

"Neither have I," he shrugs with a boyish grin before stepping forward with your little girl still in his arms, proceeding to snatch a quick peck, which just slowly turns into a little kiss session.

Kana's eyes widen at the scene, and she lifts her small hand up in the air. "me– kana too! ma pa kana too! "

It makes you and Satoru pull away from each other and giggle, You both start smooching the little baby's face together who starts scrunching her nose in response.

"ma pa stink! " she immediately voices making you laugh,

"oh? no more kisses for Kana" Satoru raises a brow, starring at kana dead serious.

That makes the little girls eyes widen and bottom lips quiver before her big eyes start getting glossy.

Satoru's eyes widens at that.

"Papa was just joking! Papa will never stop giving kana big big kissies! " He tries to rock her as she continues staring at him with big sad eyes.

"ok– let's go play, let mommy wash her face! " he is about to walk away when you stop him by his arm.

"I'll take care of her, you should first go wash up" You suggest, but he shakes his head.

"I'll miss her all day once I leave for work let me spend some time" he pouts, You sigh and give a nod at that.

You watch them walk away,

standing for a bit longer at the same spot to watch your husband put the little girl who was in her cherry printed bodysuit and frilly white socks down the ground.

"it's snowingg ! " Her dad sits down the fluffy beige carpet and exclaims, pointing at the view in the window, making her looking at him with big smile,

"snoing! " she repeats after him and also pointing at the tall windows that displayed the snow covered garden with her tiny finger, before proceeding to waddle towards Satoru and climbing up on his lap to sit down on it, while still continuing to stare out at the window and swinging her little feet out of habit as Satoru starts carefully pulling back the locks of her hair, trying to tie it into mini space buns.

Your little girl suddenly looks back at her dad while practically sucking on her entire tiny fisted hand as Satoru is still doing her hairstyle.

"papa lov uh!" She innocently exclaims, throwing her tiny hands in the air, looking at him with her big round eyes, waiting for an I love you back.

Satoru's lips pull up into a big heartfelt grin.

"love you lot lot more softie" He whispers playfully making her scrunch her nose and giggle, before turning back to look outside the windows.

"papa luv kana" your baby girl continues to sing to herself while getting her hair done by her dad,

"my cutest little fairy " he mumbles to himself while continuing to do her hair.

Your heart felt so full, You got to be in heaven right now. You enjoyed every little moment they shared, hearing kana's voice in middle of the night entering your room to tap Satoru awake every time she felt scared in her room, how you will then find them both in the morning, asleep on the couch with her sprawled on his chest and drooling over it while he had his buff arms wrapped around the tiny baby but still managing to sleep soundly with her, the way you had to rip Satoru back and tell him to go get ready for work instead of cleaning Kana's snot and drool up constantly. Having to calm down Kana who would start crying bloody murder when Satoru finally gets dressed for work and stands near the doorway, waving you both a goodbye. Satoru having to always bargain with her by leaving a bunch of endless kisses all over her chubby cheeks and forehead, and also promising to watch Disney movies with her in the upcoming weekends if she stops crying when he leaves.

Oh she was definitely a daddy's girl. One that Satoru would never get tired of no matter how much of a brat she'd become. You have to hold back a laugh every time you think about how the Satoru you knew from ten years ago would react if he would have known about this information.

#gojo x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru

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