#giving him the straight hair was physically challenging

[mischiefmaker615]

Intoxicated

Summary: Sex Pollen! (based off my Gif Skit)

Inspiration Song: "Nashe si chadh gyi" by Arijit Singh (song had to be translated) 

Requester: @GloriousLoki666 (wattpad)

Rating: R 

Note: been awhile since i wrote another sex pollen one shot Lol This was my FIRST

Loki held his breath while the tips of his fingers assured the bowl was set down without a sound. His eyes flicked once again towards the door- no sign of Y/N. finally being able to relax, he smiled down at the plate of chocolate chip cookies and knew the only thing left to do now, was wait.

Luckily, Y/N and Loki were the only ones in the tower for the day, so mistakenly pranking anyone but her was nearly impossible. It has been like this for weeks, both bickering and throwing dry comments at each other before the insults slowly evolved to more physical action.

Pranks. Cruel ones at that, and this time it was Loki’s turn for revenge.

Having to buy the cookies from the store- due to the fact that he was still learning how to make things himself- it also assured Y/N that there was nothing tampered with so she’s just have to eat one. Or so she thought.. magic was helpful when it came to avoiding hands on methods so a simple enchantment had been in order.

Simply consuming a single cookie would send her into a sexual overdrive, making her have to pleasure herself for about 24 hours straight to be sated. It had been merely an equal punishment he chose out when she had made many jokes about his sex drive in front of the team, making them think he couldn’t win over a woman and relied upon his hand half the time. Well she’d have to do just that for how she tried to humiliate him..

With a smirk, Loki turned to leave only to find Y/N herself scampering into the kitchen for her usual ‘sweet tooth’ o’clock time ritual, as she called it- basically looking for something sweet in between responsibilities she was stuck with around here.

Casting a glance over at him, Loki busied himself in the fridge, looking as distracted and disinterested as he could while he hoped she would notice the plate on the island counter.

‘’Thor went shopping again?” she asked, glancing at the plate while Loki looked over his shoulder, pretending to notice them himself with a raised brow.

‘’perhaps, or perhaps I made them.’’

‘’you made them?” she asked with a hidden scoff, closing the cabinet to fully turn around and inspect the cookies on the plate.

‘’indeed darling, I’ve been brushing up on my Midgardian skills around here and figured it might be best to offer it as a.. truce.’’ He told her gently, closing the fridge to turn to her, resting his palms upon the counter across from her while the plate sat in between them.

Y/N looked at him again skeptically before she dropped her gaze at the cookies, inspecting it as if it were a bug that shouldn’t be there. While distracted, Loki found his own eyes taking in her attire- she took advantage of the cozy work quarters of the tower and opted to where an oversized hoodie and shorts. Her hair was a bit messy, indicating she had been working for quite a while- laying on her tummy in bed no doubt, as he’s caught her many times. The brief feeling of movement in his groin at the thought had his brow raising and his eyes moving to see if it were possible before her words snapped him out of the impossible.

‘’bullshit.’’

‘’excuse me?” he said almost offended.

‘’I want to call bullshit, you might as well have put laxatives or something in there. unless of course.. you have a bite.’’ She said calmly, looking up at him with a challenged look in which he straightened and took personally.

Pranking was a delicate business and any sere hesitation could give away his position to make it real. As a slight amount of panic set in, he also told himself that with the amount of sex pollen he had put in for her body weight, couldn’t possibly be enough to affect his Asgardian form. So, taking hold of one between his thumb and pointing finger, his eyes made eye contact with her while he raised it to his lips.

His expression was unreadable yet his eyes held the same amount of challenge in her own while he bites down on a decent yet small bite. Not once breaking eye contact, he let a small smirk show while he chewed before he waved a hand at the rest of the plate. ‘’fair, darling?”

Her own lips pulled to a smirk and she shrugged, walking past him while her arm grazed his own briefly while he turned to watch her walk away. ‘’not hungry, maybe later.’’

His eyes glared at her while she walked away, finding his gaze slowly move down to her swaying hips while he tried to focus on hating her. with a tiny sigh, he looked back at the plate to debate on throwing them out before her scent seemed to catch his attention. Turning back around as if to find her coming back, he didn’t find her there. The sound of her door shut down the hall while he was left inhaling deeply with his eyes fluttering closed.

‘gods.. did she always smell like that?’ he thought, his body tensing to feel another twitch come from his cock and he dropped his eyes to it through the pants. Slight panic squeezed his chest while his eyes rounded and rose towards the halls.

‘oh.. Norns..’

~ 3o minutes.. 30 minutes and still no relief. He had been at it none stop and slumped panting against his door while his hand dropped to his side in defeat. How much had he enchanted it with? Surely not a lot.. it should have only been mild with her mortal body in consideration.. he was a god! It should have barely got him aroused!

His eyes closed with furrowed brows while another wave of arousal hit him. his body tensed and he could feel more beads of sweat come to his temples while his shirt stayed unbuttoned with the prayer of perhaps the AC finally turning on. He was practically raw and sore and nothing he had thought of had worked. He even tried several enchantments but the issue at hand made concentrating difficult.

The worse part is, he could still smell her..

He probably could have suffered an hour of this than find himself at her door. It be to humiliating and would only provide her more content to tease him more. Yet 24 hours would nearly kill a person, him anyway for despite her constant teasing involving a lacking partner, his libido was very much high at all times.

It was hard to find ones willing when all the saw was ‘the destroyer of New York’ first.

After the last 30 minutes of debating, he knew this hour had been the worst in his life and it was not going to get any easier the more time passed. In fact, sex pollen normally worsened the more one waited and didn’t leave the victim a pretty sight if they didn’t get relief.

Growling, he finally put himself away and straightened himself out, pausing now and again to regain his body once another wave hit before he could continue. He wasn’t even sure what he was wanting to ask her while he stood at her door and his hand hesitated to knock while his body buzzed. He had been severely aroused by the mere scent of her, she was most likely the one who’d be able to cure him.. theoretically.

With a gentle knock he almost regretted, the door opened to find Y/N with a surprised look and a step back.

‘’..you don’t look well..’’ she told him, quickly giving him a look over.

‘’I need your assistance.’’ He mumbled, looking literally anywhere else but her.

‘’the medicine is behind the mirror in the bathr-‘’

‘’not- like that.. I’m afraid it’s a bit more complicated than that..’’ Loki sighed, keeping his arms crossed while he shifted uncomfortably for more matters than one. By her silence, his eyes dared to look at hers just to find them quickly switching up from where they most likely had been staring at but she regardless stepped aside and let him in.

Stepping inside, he closed his eyes to make explaining a bit easier while she shut the door behind him. even with her behind, it was as if she were right in front with her scent more intoxicating as ever. His lips parted, trying to find words but had to take a moment to regain himself while he turned to look at her with guilt.

‘’..I may have placed a dose of sex pollen into the dessert from earlier in hopes you would consume one as revenge from your sexual remarks the other day. I wasn’t aware a bite would affect me and this.. issue will only subside after at least 24 hours. Nothing I have been doing has been successful at fixing it but the spell indicates that the one whom the victim favors could.. rid of it faster.’’

Loki’s eyes rounded a little, stopping short after hearing himself through his rant. Did he just confess? By her own rounded eyes, it would appear that he did while she stared at him in shock and parted lips. The silence made him shift a little, causing her to indeed switch her eyes down to the evidence he had in his pants and another wave of arousal came over him. taking a step back, he hunched a little while drawing in a sharp breath, looking timidly at her while her eyes seemed to harden and her arms moved to cross over her chest.

‘’after all this time... after all this time of your insistent torment and teasing.. you suddenly come to me for help??’’

His eyes lowered with guilt while his voice began to sound horse with strain, fists clenching at his sides while he made sure to keep looking at her. ‘’..this is important-‘’

‘’then make it important.’’ She snapped, eyes narrowing while she held on to the audacity of him actually trying to sex poison her. ‘’you got yourself into this mess, how exactly are you going to fix it-‘’

‘’I know you’ve endured a lot and that is my fault-‘’ a slight groan left his lips while his eyes closed tight, slowly causing him to sink to his knees in front of her while he sucked in a breath and kept his hands in his lap to at least try to conceal the obvious.

Her eyes seemed to have less hate towards him while they followed him down, clearly seeing him in pain while she hugged her arms and held her breath.

‘’but.. but I'll make it up to you.. all of it just- please.. I need your help..’’ he said with a low voice, exhaustion washing over his body while he shifted on his knees again at the pressure.

The sight of a knee in front of him had his eyes raise to find her kneeling in front of him, eyes looking almost out of pity and hidden amusement- which almost seemed to be just as bad as hate while he held his tongue and watched her. ‘’karma is a bitch, isn't it?’’

His jaw tightened and he knew she was going to take advantage of this- half debating on just taking the left over 24 hours to avoid this humiliation if walking didn’t seem impossible right now. ‘’..it is..’’ he ground out.

‘’and what have we learned?” she asked, almost to innocently while her other knee joined the floor and her hands rested on her thighs to mirror his position.

His eyes seemed to study her, cruelty and all. She was intoxicating, how mischief seemed to mask his own and he almost wanted to laugh at the end of all this on how it backfired on him. despite their sarcasm, he almost found himself looking forward to their bickering and debates, her facial expressions that changed and her hip sways she offered while walking away from her own deliverance. Even now by the mere memories, he had to stop himself from leaning forward right then and there while his nails dug into his palms by her scent.

‘’..a prank will sometimes backfire..’’

‘’what else?” she asked, her voice seeming to drop lower to a whisper while her eyes studied him.

‘’...to never get the pollen involved specifically..’’ he grumbled, knowing she was relishing his state yet she hinted with a promise at the end of all this, so he stayed put in his submissive position.

Y/N nodded by his answer, a slow hand reaching out to be placed against his manhood, making his eyes slowly close with almost a relived breath by her simple action. ‘’and thus, we have a.. big problem..’’

If his eyes hadn’t been closed, he would have seen her shocked gaze upon her discovery of his size. Her eyes dropped down while her hand began to paw at him, making him tense and shiver while he drew in another sharp breath.

‘’yes..’’ he answered, not exactly sure of the question anymore as soon as he felt her hand press against his chest and push him down onto his back. His palms flattened against the soft carpet below him while his eyes fluttered open at the sound of his zipper.

‘’I like you to Loki, and despite our ways and differences.. I’m glad you came to me for help..’’ she whispered, honesty surprising him while he raised his head and propped himself up on his elbows while she worked at freeing his erection.

‘’you do?-‘’ he nearly groaned while she wrapped her hand around him, his eyes falling closed while her eyes took in the mere size of him.

‘’I do.. even if you’re a pain in the ass sometimes..’’ she smiled a little and bit her bottom lip while her eyes dropped to watch what she was doing eagerly.

‘’I could be,’’ he offered with a teasing smirk, having her hold in a small laugh before she began to gently stoke him and immediately shut him up.

He slowly moved back onto the carpet, his fingers hitting the floor at his sides and curling into the fabric while her hand moved smooth and steady around him. ‘’fuck..’’ he moaned out, his voice breathy while he could already feel relief beginning to wash over him.

She couldn’t help but smile while she watched his beautiful face contort and his body squirm now and again. It was almost like a sense of power, being able to make a god crumble by merely her hand and it only urged her to stroke him faster. She could feel her own arousal hint between her legs, causing her thighs to press together while her thumb now and again ran against the tip and spread his pre-cum more onto his cock.

‘’gods Y/N.. you’re.. ‘’ he shuddered and felt his hips buck up into her hand now and again while he couldn’t even finish his sentence. She was amazing, skilled and beautiful in every which way. Even through the trials and turmoil she was still willing to help him. he even began to wonder when her attraction began towards him but he’d have to ask later.

‘’you’re so big..’’ she breathed, her inner thought speaking out loud while she still tried to believe what she was holding. Without missing a beat, she granted her wants and lowered her mouth onto his tip, flicking her tongue against him and earned a colorful curse word from Loki while he moaned his name.

‘’you feel amazing darling..’’ he breathed, a hand slowly moving to rest against her head, allowing her to set the pace but his fingers began to automatically curse into her silky hair.

She let out a hum, sending vibrations through him in which he bucked up again, making her move her other hand to his hip to try to keep him down while the other continued to pump him. now her mouth began to lower, sucking and licking at what she could take in while her hand covered the rest.

Old Norse language seemed to slip from Loki’s mouth, whispers and broken sentences while his brows furrowed and his body tensed. ‘’I’m almost t-there Y/N.. please- fuck..’’ he moaned, tightening his hold on her hair while he restrained himself from pushing her down.

Moving even faster, a moan left her own mouth while she stroked and sucked. There was a lot to work with and her thighs shifted frequently to relieve some of the pressure of her own between them until he felt his hand pushing her more down onto him.

‘’fuck- Y/N!” he moaned a curse, her name like music on his lips while he felt his orgasm crash and his hips bucked up into her on their own accord.

She eagerly drank him, gripping his hips tightly with both hands while she stayed where he had her. her legs shook and her eyes looked up at him as if she were drunk and pleased. Panting, he felt a tired grin tug his lips while he slowly let go of her hair and stroked her head, his hand falling down to caress her cheek before he felt himself soften a bit and she released him from his mouth.

His head laid down with exhaustion, relief enveloping him while he took in a deep breath and his body relaxed. ‘’thank you.. Y/N..’’ he said quietly while he felt her crawl up his body to straddle his mid-section, hands at his chest while she looked down at him with a pleased smile.

‘’were you really not hungry?” he asked with a small grin, hands coming to rest at her hips while she shook her head, remembering the cookies.

‘’I knew there was something up with them as soon as I saw them. The best part about baking, is the fresh smell it leaves and there was nothing to be found in the entire tower. So store buying them was the first hint, and knowing you, there had to be something else.’’

Loki hummed at his mistakes, wanting to kick himself for it if he didn’t feel himself getting hard again with her on top. This time it didn’t hurt and from her rosy cheeks, he knew she had noticed as well.

‘’you weren’t joking about your libido..’’ she teased, biting her bottom lip while she began to tease him with the rock of her hips and his lips tugged into a smirk at what she said next.

‘’I got something you could eat..’’

DM a song and/or Loki Gif for your own Musical Mischief one shot and/or Gif Skit :D

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[jizskat]

Everytime I draw him he gets a little more goth

[huicitawrites]

Patiently Craving 

Yandere! Sukuna x Reader 

warnings: major jjk spoilers (non/manga readers, or manga readers not up to date), assault, yandere behaviour

word count: 4k

It has been a long, arduous, night of study- you and Yuuji stayed up past twelve to finish a history group work. Jujutsu history homework was no easy task, for there were various curses, clans, battles, cursed techniques, and objects to recall. Still, the two of you managed to push through with the blessed help of some energy drinks and snacks. 

Yuuji sighed as he carried over a blanket to your form that was passed out on the couch. The pink-haired boy felt a little bit guilty; he should be the one sleeping on the couch. It was common courtesy that he should lend you his bed if you were staying over at his dorm. 

But you insisted, and ever so persistent, Yuuji could not get past you. So now here he was, gently placing down a blanket over your form to keep you warm. 

The blanket was slowly descending when it happened again. 

For just a second, an extremely dangerous second, Yuuji’s body shook. His face contorted uncontrollably, his eyebrows trembled, and a wicked grin plastered itself. Out of his own bodily command, Yuuji’s eyes widened and the hidden eyelids in his cheekbones popped open. 

The monster threatened to come out. 

But then, Itadori Yuuji’s contained him, again. 

Yuuji’s hand had tossed the blanket. He bent over to pick it up. His lips were tight against each other and he flared his nostrils to get a good breath of air. He opened his mouth wide and as he exhaled, he tried to let his body loose and ignore the stiffness of his muscles. He settled the blanket on you, and this time, he was hesitant to touch your body or get any closer. 

His face showed despair and signs of concern, and his heartbeat fast and climbed in his throat. 

He was afraid, but he better not show, not let the monster know. Yet Yuuji knew of such to be naive, for the curse is one with his body, a parasite- and Yuuji is his vessel. 

“Don’t be a fool.” A voice, deep, rumbly, and cunning spoke. Its words laced with the venom of mockery as a soft, condensing, chuckle vibrated after. 

A voice, a tone, Yuuji was familiar with. The one he despised the most, Sukuna Ryomen. 

He glares down with his four eyes from the comfort of his skull-throne, a tall phantom tori-gate framing his body and painting him in a royal manner- The King of Curses, of course. 

Itadori clicked his tongue and blew air against his lips his eyebrows, furrowed, and with much annoyance he faced his enemy forth. 

“What do you want, Sukuna?” 

He is not scared to say his name, if anything, he is tired of saying it. He spits it out without any hint of respect, the King's antics have grown old and bothersome on him. Sukuna’s grin twists into a cheshire smile and he scrutinizes Yuuji with his hellish crimson irises. 

“You know well what I want,” His head cocks to the side and lands on his clawed palm, the other set of fingers tapping rhythmically on the throne’s armrest. 

Usually, Yuuji tries to keep his cool. The pink-haired boy is aware of the manipulative tactics and shenanigans of the curse, so he knows better than to give in and be played by his words to physically maintain him at bay. 

Albeit, this is not the case, not when it is about the life of a friend. More so when it is about his unexpected and inexplicable obsession, he has with you. Yuuji does not know how or why, but you have caught the eye of Sukuna. 

“Fuck you,” Yuuji spat at him, and Sukuna simply laughed, “I will never let you, ever.” Yuuji looked up at him to challenge him, meeting his piercing stare with one of his own dark eyes. 

Sukuna’s cheeks puffed, only to explode into wild laughter. Yuuji simply stand still, tall, and straight- unfazed. He must not lose his cool, not let him grasp the reigns. 

He must not take over, not with you here so close and vulnerable. 

Surely, people have priorly done this- the feat of impressing the King. Gojo, who is the strongest and Sukuna's biggest threat, and Megumi for some reason Yuuji has not yet deciphered. In any case, it is their power and potential that beckons Sukuna, and which made them appear worthy, he guessed.  

With you- it is completely different. You are not a particularly strong sorcerer; you are at the same level as him and Kugisaki. You also lack any inherited technique. heavenly pact or extraordinary mumbo-jumbo from the jujutsu world. 

And yet- you caught his interest. Somehow, your presence grew on Sukuna. At first Yuuji did not notice, for it was subtle. Like a little gut-feeling whenever he was around you, like he could suddenly feel Sukuna paying attention and listening with keen ears, 

After a while, it became more obvious, but not obvious enough. If Yuuji happened to walk away from you, be it because he was heading somewhere else or something, his body protested. His legs became a bit heavier, and his torso and shoulders tried slightly to twist in your direction. Even further- Sukuna's mouth began to pop out randomly but in your presence. Sometimes, the curse would tease you or mock you, or smile wickedly at you- all which made Yuuji apologize profusely. 

The last, most prominent, bright red flag which slapped Yuuji into the implications of Sukuna's undivided attention occurred in a mission two months ago. The four of you had been sent to exterminate a couple of small grade curses, and unfortunately the lot of you miscalculated the situation. A special-grade curse, a cursed womb to be precise, rose within the shadows and overwhelmed the team. Yuuji was out of breath, Kugisaki had only a few nails left and Fushiguro had already spent more than half his arsenal, and you were far from them, snatched by the throat by the curse. You were passing out on its claws as you thrashed through your last breath. Yuuji recalls vividly how your writhing form made the curse inside of him snap.  

Itadori was surprised to find himself detached from his body as he watched from a spectator's standpoint. His body launched at top velocity and obliterated the curse with one swipe of his hand. Merciless, unbound, and wild- yet delicate when he held you. This had never happened before, Sukuna would never help someone else, Yuuji was testimony to that when Sukuna laughed cruelly alongside Mahito at Junpei's tragic predicament. 

But there you were, unharmed on his arms, passed out, and Yuuji swore he even felt Sukuna clutch you tighter. Heck, his clawed hand carefully caressed your face and nudged aside the hair strands. Oh, this was fucked up, he realized. So, he did what was entrusted to him, and regained control of his body. Kugisaki and Megumi observed with widened eyes and slacked jaws. The silence between the three of them was loud and spoke volumes. That day the three of them expressed their concerns to their teacher and decided to hide this incident from you- in their version of the tale, Yuuji saved you, which was half-the-truth in the least. 

After the incident that almost cost you your life, Sukuna got worse. He was unbearable and unashamed, the curse attempted to take over his body numerous times. Anytime, anywhere. In Jujutsu High, during missions, in the streets even. It was tiresome, but Yuuji would not budge. He even tried to distance himself from you, but your friendly self was too naive to notice.  

Each day, Yuuji fights to keep his body to himself and protect you, and Sukuna fights to break free and do whatever he wants with you, which terrified Yuuji. 

Yuuji didn't realize how close Sukuna got to him whilst he was lost in thought and memory, but realization had been too late by the time the Cursed King delivered a blow right to his gut. The two-eyed salmon haired coughed in pain and fell to the ground, and his counterpart used this opportunity window to press the sole of his foot on his face, harshly. Yuuji's skull resisted, and the palm of his hands went to both sides of his chest, but he couldn't pick himself a centimeter up. His face was flushed and rubbed onto the mysterious watery floor, and Sukuna chuckled devilishly. 

"Just what exactly do you plan to do to stop me? You cannot even pick yourself up, idiotic brat" The force pushing him into the floor got stronger, the foot twisted deeper into his cheek. Yuuji opened his mouth in any way he mustered, but before any words came out of his mouth, Sukuna fully stomped his feet and Yuuji sank into the water. 

He woke up on the tatami of his dorm in cold sweat and rushing heartbeat, a dry throat to top it all. '(Y/n)!', Yuuji snapped his head to glance at the coach. He stood up desperately, his legs stumbling, and he fell on the coach's armrest. His own eyes scanned your sleeping form; indeed, you were resting peacefully.  

Itadori Yuuji's body collapsed on itself slowly. He fell on his rear, and then tired on his back. He faced the plain ceiling. His chest rose and fell rhythmically. Once he gathered himself, Yuuji glanced out the window and distinguished the light and smooth colors of dawn.  

Fuck, it was late. 

Naturally, he sought out the clock hanging on his dorm wall and his hand came to his forehead, where it damped. He brought it up his hair before it slid down to cover his eyes, and a series of swear words and curses left his mouth in a hush manner. 

Time, he was running out of time. 

“Fushigoro?” 

Itadori Yuuji asked with a cracked voice. As an answer, he only received the distorted laughs of his friend, Megumi Fushigoro - no, of the curse possessing his friend, Ryomen Sukuna. 

‘Fuck, fuck! How could this be?!’ 

Both you and Yuuji stood frozen in place, shocked. The tables had turned drastically, never had you entertained the thought of Sukuna switching into another vessel, least of all Megumi. 

You took a quick glance at Yuuji. He looked heartbroken. Sukuna looked delighted, joyous, ecstatic. He ran his hands on his new hair, feeling the black locks of Fushigoro Megumi. 

“Stupid brat, you didn’t really think through our Binding Vow,” he blurted in between laughs, his voice alien to his body as the red eyes filled with mockery and disdain. 

“Die.” 

You saw Megumi, no, Sukuna, incoming, and you picked up your stance, you looked sideways to Yuuji, and - 

“Yuuji!!! Dodge!!!” You cried out for your friend, your arm desperately reaching for him, your body ready to sabotage its survival instincts to push him out of the way. 

But you were too slow, and he did not move a muscle. He just stood there and took the powerful blow. 

Eyes widened; you saw him spit out blood. With a single blow to the gut, Sukuna blasted Yuuji away, and his body crashed through several buildings, far from your sight.  

It is about damn, fucking time. That Itadori brat has had his use, and at this point, he was becoming more of a prison than a vessel. Although dumb, weak, and naive, that brat did only one thing right. 

He could restrain him. 

Every.single.fucking.time. 

Sukuna had tried more than a couple of times to catch you off guard. When you turned around, when you were too focused to notice your surroundings, when you stayed over to sleep at the brat's, when you were too weak and exhausted to fight, or simply anytime Ryomen Sukuna desired. 

And each single fucking time, the damn brat stopped him. 

But now, now that was a thing of the past. A nuisance he no longer had to deal with. Not as he had the body of Megumi Fushigoro under his control, and with a single punch to the gut, that weakling was done with. 

Sukuna laughed, his eyes wide and mad, his pupils dilated, and his toothy grin wicked. 

About. Damn. Fucking. Time. 

Horror painted a canvas on your face, and despair formed a pit in your chest, but despite it all, you managed to cast a spell. Even with a tight lump inside your throat, you brought your hands together in a seal - your last two fingers crossed each other and the first three touched each other. 

“Caladrius!” You conjured a white owl Shinigami big enough to carry you. You grasped its feathers to propel yourself upwards and climb it, but a tough arm grabbed you by the ankle. 

“Oh, no, you won’t.” 

He pulled you down, and you failed to resist his strength, but you were quick to command the owl to set off on its own. It was more important that it reached Yuuji, for his sake, yours, and Megumi’s - if he was still there, he had to be there, deep down. 

With the usurped body of your friend, his black hair thrown back out of his usual hairstyle and sinister signature tattoos invading his skin, the ‘borrowed’ arms went around your waist, and his sharp claws slightly tore the layers of your clothes, prodding at the skin below. 

“Do you like my new host, [Y/n]? I sure do; it feels refreshing,” The usurper said nonchalantly in your ear as you struggled against his frame. He chuckled at your struggle, finding it cutely futile if anything. 

Sukuna lowered his head into the crook of your neck and inhaled your scent. He was slow, painfully so, taking his sweet time in tormenting you. 

"So sweet," he whispered in your ear, but blood did not rush to your face nor taint the tips of your ears. No. That intimidating aura, that immeasurable amount of cursed energy so close to you. 

You froze. 

You could die here and now. 

Only when you felt a slim sensation up your neck, dangerously close to your jugular, did you wince. Snapping out of your shocked state, you began to thrash in his hold. 

Sukuna merely chuckled; you could feel his chest and abdomen rising and falling against your back. He laughed and laughed, baring his teeth and fangs, his four eyes brimming with joy. He dragged his maniacal display until it ended with a satisfactory sigh. His expression fell, his grin fell flat, and his eyes narrowed. 

“You don’t have any idea how much I wanted out from that Itadori brat." the King of Curses sighed. 

His arms began to snake around your waist, and his clawed hands grasped your skin. His sharp nails dragged tightly against your skin, leaving a thin reddish trail behind, but you were too focused on his words. “All this time I have been looking at you, woman, my woman. My future queen.” Such a passionate confession would leave anyone stuttering with a mad blush, but this was Ryomen Sukuna, the enemy of all enemies, the worst of curses, a threat to any living being - he couldn’t be serious, this just could not be real. 

This was madness. 

“You made friends with two weak and idiotic boys, did you know? But I must admit, at least that damn Itadori brat did quite the job in restraining me.” His nails began to feel tighter on your skin and were threatening to tear into you at any moment. 

“All this time, I’ve been craving you.” He parted his lips and brought out his tongue, lapping it all the way up your neck. Sukuna relished it - he could taste your fear, and he loved it. 

It was addicting. 

He continued, “Now, now [Y/N]. If I had to tell you something with all my years of experience, is that I do not like being bothered” The King of Curses could sense people coming, and while he normally enjoyed torturing and murdering his enemies, just for this time he would rather be left alone, with you. 

Utilizing the body of the Fushigoro boy, he moved his grasp from your waist and brought them together in a seal, in front of your abdomen - of course, silly, he would not let you go. 

"Nue," his deep voice vibrated against your ear, and a wave of cursed energy flooded the area. You shot up your head, and your jaw dropped. Megumi's bird Shinigami had turned into a colossal predator, at least four times its usual size, and it even developed a tail. With the flap of its wings, thunder and lightning surged, attacking the neighboring area around you and Sukuna. 

The sight of the beast made you snap out of your haste. You had to do something. Although you were powerless against this demon, Megumi was still there. He was being held prisoner in his own body, but he could break free. If you could just reach out to him, "Megumi! I know you are there! You can snap out of it, just like Yuuji! C'mon Megumi!" 

Naively, your eyes sought for eye-contact. Only to see the four red irises of Sukuna, his tattoos shifting along with the grin on his face. 

"Megumi? Really? He may be able to hear you, [Y/N], but I assure you, he's not coming back," Sukuna purred, his grip on you tightening. "Don’t make me jealous now, calling out another man’s name... I’d rather you call out mine." 

Desperation and fear surged through your veins, but you refused to give in to Sukuna's taunts. Summoning every ounce of courage, you had left, you clenched your fists and glared defiantly at him. 

"You're wrong! Megumi is strong, and he won't let you control him forever. I believe in him, and we will find a way to break your hold on him!" You retorted, determination shining in your [e/c] eyes. 

Sukuna's laughter filled the air, echoing around you like sinister bells of doom. "Oh, how amusing! Your faith in him is laughable. But I'll humor you, my dear [Y/N]. Let's see how long you can hold on to that hope before I make you mine entirely." 

As Sukuna's laughter subsided, you felt a surge of raw energy emanating from him. The air crackled with malevolence as Sukuna prepared to unleash his Nue’s full power. But before he could strike, an unexpected presence intervened. 

A figure emerged from the shadows, radiating a powerful aura that seemed to challenge even Sukuna's might. Itadori Yuuji, battered, bruised and with several cuts from the earlier blow, stood tall with a determined glint in his eyes. 

"Leave [Y/N] alone, Sukuna! This is between you and me," Yuuji declared, his voice steady despite the pain. 

Sukuna's lips curled into a sinister grin. "You still think you can stand up to me, boy? I'll enjoy tearing you apart, scum." 

Yuuji's resolve only strengthened. He clenched his fists and channeled every ounce of cursed energy he possessed. "I won't let you hurt [Y/N], and I won't let you get away with what you've done." 

Using another set of Megumi’s shikigamis, Sukuna conjured the monster serpent (now, a full, intimidating horned cobra) and it curled tight around you- rendering you immobile as it drained you of your cursed energy.

The battlefield crackled with tension as Sukuna and Yuuji faced each other, locked in an inevitable clash. Meanwhile, you struggled against the shikigami’s tailed hold, trying to summon every ounce of cursed energy within you to break free. The ground trembled beneath your feet as the battle commenced. 

It soon became clear that Yuuji was no match for Sukuna's overwhelming power. Despite his valiant efforts, Sukuna's strength and cunning proved to be too much to handle. With a single devastating attack, Yuuji was defeated, lying unconscious on the ground. 

“Yuuji!!!” You screamed and tears welled up in your eyes. 

Sukuna stood triumphantly over Yuuji's fallen form, a sinister grin stretching across his face. "Pathetic brat," he sneered, "You were never worthy of her attention. But now, she's all mine." 

Your heart pounded in your chest as you faced the monstrous curse before you. Sukuna's eyes bore into yours with an unsettling mix of possessiveness and desire. He took a step closer, and you could feel his cursed energy suffocating you. 

You clenched your fists, trying to muster the courage to stand up to him. "I'll never be yours, Sukuna," you retorted, your voice wavering and cracking but determined.  

Sukuna's grin widened, reveling in your resistance. "Oh, how delightful. The more you resist, the more enticing you become," he said, circling you like a predator eyeing its prey. With a chask of his fingers, the shikigami which held you vanished, and you fell on Sukuna’s arms. One of his clawed and tattooed hands reached out to grasp you by the chin, forcing you into eye-contact and squeezing your cheeks- bringing your lips forward. 

Your heart raced with fear, and Sukuna's grin only grew wider. His face inched closer, his breath ghosting over your skin. "My love," he whispered, his voice laced with a possessive edge. “I will not let you escape me. You are mine, [Y/N], and I will gladly be yours " he murmured, pulling you closer to him. Anticipating his actions, you focused your remaining strength in struggling against him. Regardless, Sukuna leaned in and succeeded in sealing his lips against yours.  

Ryomen Sukuna kissed you with a passion you would never expect, or experience- a profound hunger and impatience that had been finally sated. A tongue, thick, slimy, and intrusive that relentlessly claimed a pair of lips it had been craving for so long, a desire long fulfilled. 

His onslaught was merciless; he wanted more, but when he looked at your flushed face and shut eyes, and attention to your weakening fists against his chest, he chuckled against your lips and broke the kiss. You gasped for air and breathed frantically, as Sukuna admired the trail of saliva that bridged his lips to yours. 

"You are mine, [Y/N], and there's no escape. I have been waiting for so long; I have been so patient. I think it’s time I deserved my reward." 

His lips peppered and trailed up your neck, climbing across your jaw, past your lips and near your ear. He whispered, hungrily and husky “I’m just so hungry for you.” 

A/n: I’ve literally been trying to write this a LONG time ago, and finally broke through! I hope you like a normal dickhead sukuna that is a hard simp for darling. One more sukuna fic that I’ve been saving to go!

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

close to you . .

just like me, they long to be. .

" what the hell are you doing ?"

you look away from your screen to stare at your boyfriend from beneath the mountain of pillows you’re laying under. there are snacks ranging from sweet to salty strewn all around your bed and a spot right next to you saved specifically for him.

you raise a brow " i’m watching my show." you state. katsuki’s eye twitches. he stalks towards you slowly, menacingly, like he’s waiting for the perfect opportunity to pounce at you. you shove your chin and nose underneath your blankets.

"you’re watching our show. " he corrects, squinting at you "you’re watching. our show." he reiterates.

"katsu-"

" our show. an’ yer fuckin’ watching it without me." he glares daggers into your fucking soul and with the rage of a thousand suns as he spits the words out like they had somehow caused him harm.

"you said i could start without you last time !" you defend weakly. he rolls his eyes as he stomps over to you and climbs into your bed "yeah, last time, but this ain’t last fuckin’ time, dumbass." he growls. you whine when he lifts up your blankets and the cold air nips at you. "oh shut up, big baby, weren’t whinin’ when ya decided ta watch the one show you know we watch together." his words are mean but he scoots impossibly closer to you

you scoot over to make some extra space for him so he can lay down comfortably before squeezing yourself right next to him again. “you’re the one who said, and i quote ‘ i could give less of a shit about this stupid show, just don’t have anything better to do” he scrunches his nose at your crude impression of him. “ i don’t fuckin’ sound like that.”

“it’s what you sound like to me.” you retort.

he growls, nipping at your ear which causes you to let out a giggle mixed with a little squeal “needa get yer fuckin’ ears checked then.”

“i just started anyway. i can just rewind it” you lean forward to place your mouse back to the beginning and plop back on your pillow with a groan. katsuki snorts. “ i was gonna wait for you, but you were taking too long” you mumble out already invested in the images on screen.

katsuki knocks his forehead against the side of your head softly then also turns his attention to the screen. “ it’s shitty hair’s fault” he gruffs out “fucker kept on yappin’ about whatever the fuck, couldn’t leave.”

you fake gasp in shock. pretending to be hurt you place a hand on your chest and look at him wide eyed. he raises a brow “wow. i can’t believe you like kirishima more than me.” you turn your nose up at him and hold back a laugh when you see his expression morph from confused to straight up insulted.

“where the fuck d’you get that from?!” you can’t keep up the façade when you see his face and burst out laughing, his facial expressions are seriously something else. he relaxes slightly but he still doesn’t look amused. “i’m just joking. i know you just wanted to be nice” you reassure, his face relaxes and his shoulders sag as he releases a frustrated sigh. “you know, since he’s your friend.”

he cracks his head to look at you, wide eyed and brows furrowed he shoves his head against yours so hard he basically headbutts you. you let out a little yelp and laugh “don’t even start with that ! fucker ain’t my friend." he spits the word friend like it tastes gross in his mouth, it makes you laugh even harder. “right~” you sing.

you think things have calmed down after a little bit, your both watching your show, then katsuki suddenly knocks his forehead against your head again.

“hey.” he mumbles. you blink up at him waiting for him to finish. he chews at his lip and looks towards the screen then looks back at you, cheeks turning pink.

"ya know i don’t…like him more than you, right..?"

you tilt your head "who ?" you ask. he grunts like speaking is physically challenging, his face turning redder by the second “shitty hair. don’t like ‘im more than you." his eyes dart away then focus back on yours " don’t like anyone more than you."

you feel your cheeks flush and you suddenly feel extremely warm and giddy. you giggle and his cheeks darken in color "where's this coming from?" you chortled. he scoffs at you and pokes you in the stomach, turning back to the look at the screen to avoid your mushy warm loving gaze. "fuckin'—nowhere ! m'not allowed to…fuckin—!" he fumbles around for what to say. you decide to spare him and place your hands on his scorching cheeks, he struggles a little bit (barely) but let's you turn his head towards you, he pouts at you, trying his best to look intimidating but he just looks like a angry little kicked puppy.

"m'just teasing you , suki" you're rubbing his cheek with your thumb and his eyebrows stay furrowed despite him leaning into your touch "i know you don't like him more than me, if you did, i don't think you'd be here" he rolls his eyes and bites at the palm of your hand. you chuckle "i don't like anyone more than you, either" you're sure there are hearts in your eyes as you speak, you hope he can see them.

" 'f course you don’t." he mumbles out the words into your palms fast without missing a beat, it tickles. he smirks into your hand when he sees you roll your eyes at him, he truly is a little shit.

"don't like nobody more than you." he proclaims quietly, closing his eyes, his long lashes brushing against his cheeks.

"yeah" you purr, the hearts in your eyes spread all around your body to the tips of your fingers and toes, it makes you warm and soft, and so fond of him. you don't like anybody more than katsuki, you can't. not when he opens his eyes and gazes at you with burning cheeks but hearts in his eyes and you hope the ones in yours spread all around his body too, because his have started to intermingle with yours, coursing through your veins.

"yeah." you sigh, " yeah me neither."

you can't like anyone more than you do katsuki as you watch your show together.

@slashersl0t i wrote this thanks to you twin <3 !

[pin-k-ink]

hoshina x exes to lovers angst? 🥺🤲

just for tonight // hoshina soshiro

tw ⇢ exes to lovers??, hurt/comfort kinda, angst, lots and lots of unsaid feelings, making out, biting/marking, smoking, suggestive content, mentions of past flings

wc ⇢ 2.7k

The stifling tension in the conference room was thick enough to cut with a knife, rivaling even the oppressive summer heat that seeped through the building's supposedly state-of-the-art air conditioning system.

You sat ramrod straight in your high-backed chair, the leather creaking softly with each minute shift of your body. Your fingers, usually steady and sure, drummed an erratic rhythm on the polished mahogany table, betraying the anxiety that churned beneath your carefully composed exterior. The starched collar of your formal uniform felt uncomfortably tight, as if conspiring with the room's atmosphere to suffocate you.

Across the vast expanse of the conference table, separated by a sea of papers and the invisible yet palpable line dividing the First and Third Divisions, sat Hoshina Soshiro. His violet hair was a tad longer now than when you'd last seen him. The ghost of his familiar smirk played at the corners of his lips, a reminder of shared intimacies and bitter partings.

You forced your gaze away, focusing intently on the report before you, though the words blurred and swam on the page. The droning voice of the presenter faded into white noise as you became acutely aware of Hoshina's unwavering stare. It was as if his eyes were physically caressing you, leaving trails of heat in their wake that no amount of professional detachment could cool.

A bead of sweat traced a lazy path down the back of your neck, disappearing beneath the collar of your uniform. You resisted the urge to squirm in your seat, to give any outward sign of the effect his presence was having on you. Instead, you squared your shoulders, lifting your chin in a subtle act of defiance.

"Vice Captain [Y/N]," Hoshina's voice cut through the monotony of the meeting, his kansai dialect as pronounced as ever. "Ya seem... distracted. Perhaps ya'd like to share yer thoughts on the proposed joint trainin' exercise?"

You met his gaze, your own eyes narrowing slightly at the challenge in his tone. The room fell silent, all eyes turning to you expectantly. You could feel the weight of your division's pride resting squarely on your shoulders, demanding you rise to the occasion.

"Of course, Vice Captain Hoshina," you replied, your voice steady despite the rapid beating of your heart. "I was just considering the logistical challenges such an exercise might present. After all, oil and water don't typically mix well."

A ripple of tension passed through the room at your thinly veiled barb. Hoshina's smirk widened, a predatory gleam entering his eyes that sent an involuntary shiver down your spine.

"Oh?" he drawled, leaning forward slightly. "I seem to recall a time when we mixed quite well, [Y/N]-chan."

The use of the familiar honorific, so inappropriate in this setting, caused a flush to creep up your neck. You clenched your jaw, fighting to maintain your composure as memories of tangled sheets and heated whispers threatened to overwhelm you.

The air in the conference room grew heavier with each passing moment, as if the very oxygen was being consumed by the smoldering tension between you and Hoshina. Your colleagues shifted uncomfortably in their seats, eyes darting between the two of you like spectators at a high-stakes tennis match.

"I'm sure we can find a way to... overcome our differences," you said, your voice dripping with false sweetness. Each word was carefully chosen, a verbal minefield designed to maintain professionalism while conveying your utter disdain. "After all, the Third Division's reputation for adaptability is quite... impressive."

Hoshina's eyes glittered dangerously, his smirk widening into something that bordered on predatory. He leaned back in his chair, the picture of relaxed confidence, as if your barbs were nothing more than gentle caresses.

"Ain't that sweet of ya to say, [Y/N]-chan," he drawled, his accent thickening. "I'm touched ya've been keepin' tabs on us. Thought ya might've forgotten all about the Third Division after... well, ya know."

The implication hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. You felt heat rise to your cheeks, a mixture of anger and something else you refused to acknowledge. Your fingers curled into fists beneath the table, nails biting into your palms.

"Some things are best forgotten, Vice Captain Hoshina," you replied, your tone icy. "Like ill-advised decisions made in moments of weakness."

A collective intake of breath swept through the room. Hoshina's eyes narrowed slightly, the only indication that your words had found their mark. But his recovery was swift, his easy smile never faltering.

"Ah, but those moments of weakness can be so... enlightenin', don't ya think?" He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a near purr. "I seem to recall ya findin' them quite... educational."

The memory of his hands on your skin, his lips at your throat, flashed unbidden through your mind. You stood abruptly, your chair scraping loudly against the floor. "This is hardly the time or place for such discussions, Vice Captain," you snapped, your composure cracking.

Hoshina rose as well, his movements fluid and unhurried. He circled the table slowly, like a predator stalking its prey. "Oh? And when would be a good time, [Y/N]-chan? After hours, perhaps? In private?"

The room seemed to shrink, the distance between you and Hoshina narrowing with each step he took. Your breath came faster, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs. The air crackled with unspoken desires and bitter regrets.

"You're out of line, Hoshina," you hissed, your voice low and dangerous. "This is a professional meeting, not one of your juvenile attempts at-"

"Vice Captain [Y/N]!"

The sharp voice of one of your superiors cut through the tension like a knife. You whirled to face him, suddenly aware of the spectacle you and Hoshina had been making. The man's stern gaze swept over both of you, his disapproval palpable.

"I believe we've strayed from the topic at hand," He said, his tone brooking no argument. "Perhaps we should take a brief recess to... collect ourselves."

As the room began to empty, you caught Hoshina's eye once more. The heat in his gaze made your breath catch, a silent promise - or perhaps a threat - of unfinished business. You turned away quickly, but not before a shiver of anticipation raced down your spine.

This meeting was far from over, and you had a sinking feeling that your encounters with Hoshina were only just beginning.

The nicotine burned your lungs as you inhaled deeply, the acrid smoke a fitting complement to your bitter mood. The Tokyo skyline stretched out before you, a sea of twinkling lights against the darkening sky, but you barely noticed its beauty. Your mind was still trapped in that stifling conference room, replaying every loaded glance and barbed comment.

"Stupid, arrogant, insufferable..." you muttered, flicking ash from your cigarette with more force than necessary. The ember glowed brightly for a moment before being swept away by the cool evening breeze.

"Now, now, [Y/N]-chan," a familiar voice drawled from behind you, causing you to stiffen. "Is that any way to talk about yer colleagues?"

You whirled around, coming face to face with Hoshina. He stood far too close for comfort, his frame blocking out the fading sunlight. The rooftop suddenly felt much smaller.

"What do you want, Hoshina?" you snapped, taking another drag of your cigarette to steady your nerves. "Come to gloat?"

Hoshina's eyes flickered to the cigarette between your fingers, a slight frown marring his usually smug expression. "Thought ya quit," he said softly, a hint of concern in his voice that made your chest tighten uncomfortably.

You scoffed, turning back to the railing. "Yeah, well, a lot's changed since we were together. Not that it's any of your business."

You felt rather than saw him move closer, the heat of his body a stark contrast to the cool evening air. "Maybe not," he murmured, his breath tickling your ear. "But I still care, ya know."

"Could've fooled me," you retorted, your grip on the railing tightening until your knuckles turned white. "What with how you've been acting all day."

Hoshina chuckled, the sound sending an unwelcome shiver down your spine. "Aw, did I ruffle yer feathers, [Y/N]-chan? And here I thought ya enjoyed our little... exchanges."

You turned to face him, anger flaring in your chest. "Enjoyed? You embarrassed me in front of the brass! Do you have any idea how hard I've worked to earn their respect?"

"I remember," Hoshina said, his voice softening. "Ya always were driven. S'one of the things I loved about ya."

The use of the past tense stung more than you cared to admit. "Well, it doesn't matter now, does it? We're over. Done. Ancient history."

Hoshina's hand came up, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. The gentle touch was at odds with the intensity in his eyes. "Are we really, though? 'Cause I gotta say, [Y/N]-chan, it don't feel that way to me."

You jerked away from his touch, your heart pounding traitorously in your chest. "Get it through your thick skull, Hoshina. We are never, ever getting back together."

The world narrowed to a single point of contact as your back collided with the cold, unyielding wall of the empty office. The impact forced the air from your lungs in a soft gasp, quickly swallowed by Hoshina's hungry mouth as he pressed against you. The heat of his body seeped through your clothes, a stark contrast to the chill at your back, igniting a familiar fire in your veins that you'd tried so hard to extinguish.

Hoshina's hands, calloused from years of swordplay, found their way to your hips, gripping with an intensity that bordered on desperation. His fingers dug into your flesh, sure to leave marks - a physical reminder of this moment that would linger long after you both returned to your respective divisions, pretending this never happened. Again.

The kiss was messy, all clashing teeth and battling tongues, a physical manifestation of the tumultuous emotions roiling between you. You could taste the faint bitterness of coffee on his breath, mixed with something uniquely Hoshina that made your head spin. Your fingers tangled in his violet hair, longer now than when you were together, providing the perfect leverage to pull him impossibly closer.

"Ya drive me crazy, ya know that?" Hoshina murmured against your lips, his voice roughened by desire. His words ghosted over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. One of his hands left your hip, trailing a blazing path up your side to cup your face, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone with surprising tenderness.

The gentleness of the gesture, so at odds with the desperate passion of moments before, threatened to unravel you completely. You bit down on his lower lip in response, perhaps harder than necessary, drawing a sharp hiss from him. "Shut up," you growled, not wanting to hear his voice, afraid of what it might make you feel. Afraid of the emotions it might unlock, the ones you'd so carefully locked away after your breakup.

Hoshina pulled back slightly, just enough to meet your gaze. His eyes, usually twinkling with mischief, were dark and intense, swirling with desire and something deeper, more complicated. A smirk played at the corners of his swollen lips, a challenge in his voice as he spoke. "Make me."

The taunt hung in the air between you, charged with unspoken history and simmering tension. For a heartbeat, neither of you moved, locked in a silent battle of wills. Then, as if a dam had broken, you surged forward, capturing his mouth once more in a searing kiss.

The kiss deepened, a complex mixture of frustration, longing, and barely suppressed emotions pouring into every movement. Your hands slipped under Hoshina's shirt, nails raking down his back, eliciting a low groan that vibrated against your mouth. The sound sent a jolt of electricity through your body, awakening nerve endings you'd tried so hard to numb.

Hoshina broke away, his breath coming in short pants as he trailed his lips along your jaw. The slight scratch of his stubble against your sensitive skin sent shivers down your spine. He paused at your ear, his voice a husky whisper that seemed to caress your very soul.

"Why do we keep doin' this to ourselves, [Y/N]?" The question hung in the air, laden with unspoken regrets and lingering desires. His hands, which had been roaming your body with practiced ease, stilled at your waist, thumbs tracing small circles on your hipbones.

You tilted your head, giving him better access to your neck, even as your mind reeled from his words. "Because we're idiots," you gasped, the admission torn from your throat as he found that sensitive spot behind your ear, the one he remembered all too well.

Hoshina chuckled darkly, the sound reverberating through your body. "Speak for yourself. I know exactly what I'm doin'." His teeth grazed your earlobe, drawing a soft moan from you that you couldn't suppress.

"Oh yeah?" you challenged, your voice breathy and uneven. "And what's that? Trying to see how many times you can get me into bed before I finally come to my senses?"

He pulled back, meeting your gaze with an intensity that made your heart stutter. There was amusement in his eyes, yes, but beneath it lurked a deeper emotion, one that made your chest ache with its familiarity.

"Ya say ya hate me," Hoshina murmured, his thumb brushing across your lower lip. "Yet here ya are, in my arms. Again." His voice dropped lower, a hint of vulnerability seeping through his usual cocky demeanor. "Makes a man wonder what the truth really is."

You swallowed hard, fighting against the emotions his words stirred up. The playful teasing in his tone couldn't quite mask the underlying hurt, the knowledge that this moment, like all the others, was fleeting. That soon he'd have to leave, returning to his division, leaving you to pick up the pieces of your resolve once more.

"Soshiro, we can't-" you started, but he silenced you with another searing kiss, pouring all his longing and frustration into the contact.

When he broke away, his voice was rough with need and something that sounded dangerously close to desperation. "Tell me ya don't want this. Tell me ya don't want me."

Your silence hung heavy between you, more telling than any words could have been. Hoshina's eyes searched yours, reading the conflict, the desire, the unspoken feelings that you couldn't bring yourself to voice. A soft, almost sad smile tugged at his lips.

"That's what I thought," he murmured, his hand cupping your cheek with surprising tenderness. "Ya never could lie to me, [Y/N]. Not with yer words, and certainly not with yer body."

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke. "I know ya, remember? Every inch of ya." His other hand trailed down your side, leaving goosebumps in its wake. "I know what makes ya tick, what makes ya fall apart."

Hoshina's kisses trailed along your jaw, down to the sensitive spot on your neck that made you gasp. "I know the sounds ya make when yer tryin' to be quiet," he whispered against your skin. "And the ones ya can't hold back no matter how hard ya try."

His hands worked at your clothes, each touch reverent and familiar. "I know the way yer breath hitches when I touch ya just right," he continued, his voice low and husky. "The way yer back arches, beggin' for more without sayin' a word."

As layers fell away and skin met skin, Hoshina's words became more fragmented, interspersed with soft groans and whispered endearments. "Ya're so beautiful," he breathed, his eyes roaming your form with undisguised awe. "So perfect. I've missed ya so much, [Y/N]. Missed this. Missed us."

With each touch, each kiss, each whispered confession, the walls you'd built around your heart began to crumble. Hoshina's movements were both desperate and tender, as if he was trying to memorize every moment, knowing it might be the last.

"Stay with me," he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper. "Just for tonight. Let me pretend, just for a little while, that ya're still mine."

As you surrendered to the sensations, to the familiar touch of the man you'd never truly stopped loving, you knew that come morning, you'd have to face the consequences of your actions. But for now, in the darkness of this empty room, you allowed yourself to fall into Hoshina's embrace once more.

[diagonal-queen]

how i think the Obey Me! brothers would hug

lucifer: is there such thing as polite hugs? because that's how lucifer would hug you. he definitely would NOT hug you at first, but after you two get closer he will just melt into your arms if you offer a cuddle. he might even fall asleep for just a second (give my mans a BREAK) he gives you forehead kisses on occasion when he's drunk or just...super clingy (extremely rare! cherish it)

mammon: i might be biased, but...🤤🤤 ohhh this man gives the best hugs. he's just sweet and goofy and warm...augh....he hugs you so tight like he'll lose you, and gives you kisses on your neck and shoulder if you're dating...he smells so nice and makes you feel so loved...ujhhgnmnmmnnghhhhhhhh omg omg omg

leviathan: levi would absolutely not initiate hugs at first either, because he's an awkward cringefail loser like me. even after you guys get to know each other, he's still kind of stiff and hesitant with hugs. that's not to say that he doesn't like you hugging him, he's just garbage at it lmfao. the same can't be said for other things though, so just be patient ;)

satan: satan is straight up the only normal one out of these guys so his hugs are also like...normal and nice. they're quiet, comforting and just nice. they don't go for too little or too long a time, he rubs his hands on your back and rests his chin on your head. if he's feeling extra clingy he nuzzles your hair. he likes your scent! you can always calm his wrath with a nice hug.

asmodeus: asmodeus's hugs are surprisingly wholesome. he brings you into his arms, tucks your head beneath his chin, and coos at you softly. he also gives you gentle kisses on the head sometimes, it's all surprisingly gentle and intimate for the literal sex demon. he definitely values intimacy that isn't sexual too, and if he knows you enjoy it then he's much more than happy to oblige <3

beelzebub: he's so gigantic and buff he doesn't realise how strong he is. he squishes you by accident. you WILL suffocate in his man titties. it's like hugging a ginormous, rock-hard teddy bear, because tbh that's just what beel is. in spite of that you'll never feel safer than you do in beel's arms. he's the go-to if you feel really sad (or if, for sensory reasons, you need to be physically crushed)

belphegor: he doesn't even cuddle you, you cuddle HIM. he just falls asleep on you T-T. it's not his fault you're so cosy!! while he's asleep he clings onto you so hard, wraps his arms and legs around you like you're a body pillow. he nuzzles his head on your neck, chest or stomach while he's sleeping. belphie is so soft he's essentially a big cushion himself.

note: lmfao guess my favourite brother challenge (impossible) um anyway. my obey me brainrot is returning so maybe expect a couple of mammon thirst posts from time to time 😓

[aurorawritestoescape]

ADDICTED || Max Phillips x f!reader || 3k

Summary: Max gives you everything you need but can you stop when the pleasure gets addictive?

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, angst, daddy kink, dom/sub dynamic, biting, blood drinking (not graphic), f/m oral, mind control (dub-con, then very enthusiastic), slapping, unprotected piv, heartbreak, themes of addiction, obsession. Reader has hair. Pics are for the mood only, reader has no physical description.

A/n: this is for @iamasaddie ‘s Kinky May challenge with a prompt daddy kink for Max Phillips. Thank you for hosting it, Aly😘 Thank you @milla-frenchy for beta-ing and holding my trembling hand♥️ it’s my first time writing Max and I’m very nervous. Hope you all will enjoy it!💖

dividers by @saradika-graphics

MASTERLIST

You can’t get enough of him.

His fingers gripping your hair, his strong hips between your slicked up thighs, the burn his teeth leave behind, the pleasure his soft lips give you.

Yet most of all you can’t get enough of his voice.

It’s like the sweetest poison that seeps into your welcoming ear, tying you closer to him with every uttered sound. Making you addicted. Obsessed.

“You’re mine. All of you. Every drop, baby.”

“Yes, daddy,” you always agree with him. These are the rules of the game. You do what he says, he doesn’t leave you.

He gives you what you need. Purpose.

“You’re daddy’s hole. Nothing more. I’m here to fill you and feed on you. You don’t need anything else. Just daddy fucking his cum into you, load after load. While your blood satiates me. Drop after drop.”

“Yes, daddy…please, give it to me… want it…take it.”

You get so high on his voice telling you what to do, it’s euphoric. You’re always in a half trance. At work your mind is occupied by him; whenever you spend time with your family or friends, your thoughts are elsewhere. You don’t need them anymore. You are lost in him. In your mind you’re in bed, pressed by his heavy body. Limbs intervened, your sweaty skin flush against his as he’s claiming your body and soul.

It used to be easy. The first time you met at a club where Max tried to pick you up and succeeded. He was handsome, charming as hell, talkative, funny in an assholish way. Absolutely not your type, but you didn’t mind having fun. You two fucked in the bathroom and when he bit your neck and licked off the blood, you thought he was just kinky. The alcohol in your blood didn’t let you think straight. He made you come on his cock and you gave him your phone number.

Max came without a call, just appeared on your doorstep one night, and you let him in. You were cringing at your desire for some corporate suit, but he’d given it to you so good that night and you had never passed on a great fuck.

“I like you”, he said directly, lying on your sofa. He came right after work and told you that he was tired, at the same time exuding energy. You were staring at him, amused by his confidence. Max had an air about him like he owned the place and everything in it, including you.

“There’s something special about you,” he continued, pouting his lips in thought, “I don’t even need to command you. You’re so hungry. You do what I want all by yourself, baby.”

“Command me?”, you scuffed and snapped back, offended by his words, “Why don’t you go fuck yourself, baby”. Max was hot but a man would never be the boss of you, you thought.

He bucked his hips, getting more comfortable on your sofa, and shot you a smug smile that made you want to slap him. Before fucking him.

“Get on the sofa. All fours,” He told you, nodding at the spot next to him. His voice was the same, deep and gruff but somehow different. As if he grabbed your will and caged it in his big hand. Made it his will instead. And to your astonishment your body followed the order.

“Take off your clothes,” he said, sitting up, as your hands and knees were already planted firmly on the surface.

He got up and made you stand still while his hands were exploring your naked body — kneaded your breasts, twitched your nipples, glided over your back, slipped between your folds and swirled your throbbing clit. Your head was absolutely empty, your mind already occupied by only him.

“Beautiful,” he praised you, spreading your ass cheeks and admiring the view, “daddy’s gonna have so much fun with you.”

You bit your lip when he called himself that and then whimpered when he latched onto your pussy. He tasted your desire for him as his hot tongue slid between your folds and traced your crying hole. A whine escaped your parted lips when his mouth stopped caressing your cunt and he stood in front of you.

With widened eyes you watched him perch on the armrest of the sofa, spreading his thighs wide.

“You know what’s my favorite thing to do?” He asked, smirking at you.

You couldn’t say anything, so you were just blinking at him while a myriad of emotions were swirling inside your chest.

“Oh, you can’t answer, right. Baby though she’s in charge, huh?” Max chuckled and then leaned closer to you face, bringing his lips to your ear and whispered,

“Let’s see who’s in charge,” and added, “Come for daddy.”

You felt burning in your stomach, your core tightened, pussy started clamping around nothing, and you cried out as a hard orgasm began shaking your whole body, making your limbs tremble. He was palming himself, watching your face twist in pleasure, loud moans leaving your lips as the waves of ecstasy were lapping at your heated body. It was hard to stand still and his previous command was the only thing that kept you from collapsing on the sofa.

“Relax,” he told you and you plopped on the surface panting heavily, while aftershocks were still going through your body.

He stood up and you felt his thumb brush your cheekbone.

“Do you believe me now, sweetheart?” He asked with a head tilt, as his bulge was looming over your head.

You looked up at his smug face, smiled a little and replied,

“Yes, daddy. Please, do it again”.

Now when he’s in your bedroom, time stops. Life stops. As soon as he sits on the edge of your bed, you kneel between his thighs, your big eyes full of deep admiration, a short sheer nightie barely covering anything. He often buys you new lingerie. He enjoys spoiling you. Also blood is hard to wash off.

If he wants you to suck his cock, all he needs to do is nod at his crotch. But tonight he wants all of you.

“C’mere,” he tells you, patting his thigh with his big hand. In a second you’re sat on his lap, your naked pussy soaking his black suit pants.

“Nearly snapped someone’s neck at work today, incompetent idiot,” He grumbles in a low voice and asks, “How was your day, baby?”

You’re pouting your lips. Who cares? Fuck life. This is what you need. This is what makes you happy, ecstatic, euphoric.

“-was ok,” you mumble, as your stomach churns with impatience. Your gaze is set downcast while you’re fumbling with his crimson tie. He nuzzles your neck and takes a deep breath of your scent. A shudder goes through him from the way you smell and you slightly roll your hips, rubbing your needy pussy against his thigh.

“So impatient, baby. Do you remember how Daddy punished you for your impatience?” his cold palm wraps around your throat and tilts your head to the side, exposing more of your neck, where his favorite vein is fluttering like a little bird under his hungry gaze.

You won’t ever forget that punishment. You have been kneeling at the foot of your bed, watching him languidly play with his cock and balls. Your mouth was watering whenever a drop of precum slid down the curve of his fat tip. He has been edging you and himself for what felt like hours until he gave you the permission to suck his cock and you came just from having him in your mouth.

“Yes, I’m sorry, daddy. I’ll wait.”

“Good girl,” he says before his lips start sucking on your delicate skin, right over the artery. He licks the patch of skin there as his hand slithers under the neckline of your nightie and squeezes your breast.

“I’m gonna take a sip and you’re gonna be a good girl and play with Daddy’s cock, ‘k?

“Yes, please”.

You tilt your head even more, offering your blood to him as your left hand slides between your bodies. You find his belt buckle and undo it, stopping yourself from rushing. You don’t want daddy’s punishment tonight. You crave his reward.

You open his pants and moan as he breaks your skin with his fangs.

You got so used to the feeling, you don’t even notice the pain. The pain is like a threshold that you step over to get to the pleasure. A small price you pay each time for the immense ecstasy he’s going to give you.

As he starts gently sucking, you take out his cock which is already hard as steel and caress its velvety skin with your fingers. It twitches in your hand and Max growls.

“I’m sorry, daddy.”

You hastily spit in your palm and return your hand to his twitching length. You wrap your hand around it and begin pumping with a rhythm you know he loves.

You flutter your eyes shut, getting lost in the feeling, ready, so ready to give and get more.

You feel his precum on your hand, and without looking, you spread it over his soft skin.

Max’s lips smacking against your neck, his growling that sends pleasant vibrations through you, his tongue, gathering the blood off your skin, mixes with the squelching sounds of your hand, dancing over his cock. It’s throbbing, pulsating in your little hand and you press your body closer to his torso, wishing to feel his length against your belly.

“Daddy, may I have it, please?”

He groans and his lips leave your neck as he commands without using his powers, “lie down.”

You can’t follow the order quicker. You need him more than air. Your empty pussy is weeping to be filled, used, stretched by his manhood. Your whole being craves to serve his needs and after satiating his hunger for some time, your cunt is ready to be fed.

Your thighs fly apart and you look up at him with pleading eyes. Max is not cruel but he’s also quick to punish you if you piss him off.

His cock bobs when he gets between your thighs and a drop of precum lands on your mound. You already whine at the sensation.

“So obedient, you really want it tonight, huh?”

“I always want it… but yes, daddy, please,” you add hastily, batting your lashes at him.

“What do you want?”

As soon as he uses this voice, the atmosphere in the room changes. He was your ‘daddy’, now he’s your god. He asks and you reply without a moment of hesitation,

“I want not to feel anything but your cock deep in my cunt, not to think. Be so cockdrunk I can’t keep my eyes open.”

He smirks but there’s a trace of bitterness in his expression.

“I see.”

He sighs and grabs your thighs with his massive hands. He spreads your legs even wider, and when your pussy blooms for him he harshly spits on your throbbing clit, making you jerk and moan. The next second he lifts your hips up and pierces you with his cock. He’s either in a good mood which you doubt by his roughness or craves a release. With your ass lifted off the bed, you gasp suddenly feeling full as your walls are spreading for him. But you need more and he knows it.

“Do you feel me deep inside, baby?”

“Yeah, you’re so big, daddy.”

“Wanna feel more? “

“Yes, daddy, please. I’m begging you, I want nothing more.”

“ ‘k, baby. You’ve been such a good girl.”

Without a warning his voice changes and he starts ordering you.

“Listen to me, hear only my voice.”

The city noises from the outside are immediately gone. You hear nothing, not even ticking of a clock in your bedroom. Only his voice is in your ears as if he’s speaking right inside your mind.

“You feel nothing. Just. My. Cock. Deep inside your cunt. In your mind. In your veins. Everywhere.”

Your eyes roll back as you’re made to concentrate on his manhood in your trembling body.

“Your pussy is hugging me so well. Make her weep around my cock. Can never get enough of your juices soaking me, baby. You always feel so good. And you deserve to feel good too.”

“Yes, daddy, I do.”

You’re floating in a warm river, his voice, his being are enveloping you. Nothing exists anymore, just him and you are left. Then he rolls his hips and it gets almost unbearably overwhelming. His cock slowly slides in and out of your sopping pussy with ease and your brain, your core, your every cell light up brightly as you already feel yourself at the precipice.

He’s fucking you gently, then gets rougher and marks you with his teeth, drinking your blood. His cock is throbbing between your walls, his hands are sliding over your breasts, twitching your nipples and playing with your clit. His face flashes in front of your eyes and you’re kissing. That’s when you feel the explosion of pure, untainted ecstasy.

“Come harder”, he commands, and you know you’re crying at how amazing you feel. It’s all happening ‘there’, somewhere deep inside you, the place so wonderful you wish you’d never leave.

At the back of your mind you know that you’re getting obsessed. Sometimes you think there’s more of him in you than you. He’s behind your eyes constantly, his handsome face with a lopsided smile flashes there over and over. You could draw it by heart now. Day after day his teeth sink deeper into your neck, his cock pierces you harder and you welcome the pain. The high is so much better after a little bit of pain.

Max is careful with you. He knows his strength and knows the effect he has on you. He’s attentive. He sees your glazed over eyes, parted lips, your breathing almost stops. You’re not here with him, you’re nowhere. You start noticing fear in his eyes when it takes longer and longer to get you out of ‘there’.

Trickles of blood are seeping from two tiny holes in your neck. Your thighs thrown widely apart, his cum is glistening at your entrance as he watches you, sitting naked between your legs. His chin and mouth are red and he’s licking his lips, not wasting a drop of you.

“Baby, look at me.” Your eyes are staring up and to the left. You’re looking at something but don’t see anything.

“Look at me!”

He orders then calls for you, nothing, again and again, you don’t respond. He slaps your cheek, not hard, just to get you back but you refuse to return to him. In your mind you’re still coming on his cock, over and over, dripping, moaning, relishing the feeling of his cum filling you up to the brim. Why would you ever go back?

Suddenly it stings. He’s slapped you really hard and your cheek is burning.

“Daddy?” You murmur, gradually coming back to reality, blinking rapidly with tears in your eyes. He’s hovering over you, his hands gripping your shoulders, his black eyes under the furrowed brows look worried and sad. Then angry.

“I couldn’t get you back! Fucking hell! You were gone for a fucking hour. It’s never been that bad.”

“It wasn’t bad. ‘s good,” You mumble while your hand flies to rub your heated cheek. Your brain is still barely functioning and your whole body is tingling after such an amazing orgasm.

“I won’t do it anymore.” He throws at you, getting off you and sitting at the edge of the bed. “Fuck this!”

Your heart freezes, gripped by the fear, and you hastily sit up. You almost fall off the bed, drunk on the amount of endorphins in your blood and then slowly crawl to him.

“Daddy, don’t say it. I’ll get back alright.”

“Yeah, what if you don’t.”

‘It’s worth it,’ you think but don’t say it. Instead you lie to him. “I’m sure I’ll always get back. It just feels so good there.”

He’s shaking his head and your stomach churns with terror.

“You told me you’d killed people for fuck’s sake! Why do you care so much about me?!” You shout and he turns to you. His pained expression makes your chest hurt. Your heart is fluttering at how handsome he is, how much you love him but love quickly morphs into hate when he threatens to take away the best thing you’ve ever experienced. You beg again and again but he’s unyielding. Finally he gets tired of your whining and leaves.

Max visits you a couple of times after that. He fucks you but refuses to command you. He makes you come on his cock or tongue and every time you cry, beg and shout, demanding to tell you to stop feeling anything except him inside you. You unravel for him again and again but it’s just not enough. Not when you’ve been there, felt that much ecstasy.

“What if I turn you?” He offers at one point.

“Will you be able to tell me what to do?”

“No.”

“Then no”.

“But we can be together forever.”

“No, daddy, please, one more time.”

He curses and leaves and then he stops coming entirely. You text, call but he doesn’t respond. Your efforts to find him are fruitless. He’s never told you the details of his life. Or you just haven’t been listening. It’s like he has disappeared into thin air, like he was just a dream.

You cry and cry, not being able to sleep, eat, feel anything else except the void in your soul and life. Max has been filling it so well and now it’s sucking you in. Without that euphoria, without him controlling you, without your ‘daddy’, you have nothing. You wish for nothing else. Mindless hookups, rebound sex, numerous strangers in your bed— nothing can give you that satisfaction.

Max left and took your life with him.

Thank you for reading!♥️ Please, comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic! It motivates me a lot!!🌸

Masterlist

Main tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @missannwinchester @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag

Max tag @guelyury

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[pastanest]

Spencer Reid x she/her!reader

A/N: inspired by this post by @shy-taylorsversion !! hope you like it sweet! ♡

warnings: references to Maeve but nothing too specific

I Can See You

It was as though fate herself was playing the cruellest joke in human history, the day you joined the team. Spencer’s heart was beyond scarred, it had been locked away under every wall he knew how to craft within himself, for his own safety. And yet, with no more than a glance, you began to disarm him. 

The team spotted the sparks almost before Spencer did, in the way they acknowledged that he reached to shake your head in greeting; a gesture he typically avoided at all cost. It was the wide eyes from his chosen family that made Spencer realize his body had acted on its own accord, without any consideration for his mind, or heart.

“Doctor Spencer Reid, uh, pleasure to meet you.” He had cleared his throat in his attempts to hold your gaze, a task he had not anticipated to be anywhere near as challenging as it turned out to be. 

And the way you had smiled at him? That was the first splinter, in the very first wall that surrounded Spencer’s heart.

It was not drastic enough for Spencer to notice right away, and by the time that he did, it was too late. Anyone would think your moves to be calculated, but the worst part of it was that Spencer could see that your actions and words were completely without ulterior motive. 

It is simply who you are, much to a genius’s absolute dismay.

Naturally, Spencer tried to deduce exactly what this immediate connection was on the very first meeting. He sat at his desk with a concentrated frown, and within 15 seconds, he had formed a hypothesis: it was a basic biological attraction, something found in primal creatures, not civilised beings, and certainly not ones with three PhD’s, but if he had to admit that he had animalistic desires on occasion, that was favored over this meaning anything more. With a satisfied nod, he rose from his desk and tried his very best to continue with his day. 

He had ventured down the hall of the BAU office, with the intention of retrieving some files he needed to work on, and he was determined to not even remotely acknowledge that you were walking down the very same hallway, in the opposite direction. He did not notice your hair, or your eyes, or the way you walked, the softness found in your smile, and his eidetic memory had definitely not stored each and every detail. 

Aaron Hotchner was giving you a tour of the office, Spencer surmised; he absolutely did not strain his every thought to tuning into the conversation in an effort to learn more about the wonder that was you. The width of the hallway allowed for you and Spencer to pass each other without any contact whatsoever, but when your gaze lifted to catch his, neither of you made any effort to increase the distance between you. Instead, you had smiled at him - again, his heart skipped a beat as it reminded him - and the two of you walked, neither one hearing Hotch’s continuing tour of the office as you neared each other. Then your sleeve brushed his. The contact was gone as quickly as it had arrived, but Spencer knew he had goosebumps beneath his suit jacket, and he couldn’t help wondering when he looked over his shoulder to find you doing the same, your eyes locking once again; did you feel it, too?

Only once safely behind the front door of his own apartment, could Spencer Reid regain the ability to think straight. It was foolish, he told himself. A workplace romance? He shook his head as he shrugged off his suit jacket, his gaze lingering momentarily on the sleeve you had brushed against. There was no substance to it, Spencer’s objective brain enforced, need you be reminded of the statistics surrounding workplace entanglements? It was simply the proximity; he had never worked with someone he found so physically attractive before, that was all this was. His mind just needed to adjust to your presence. His eyes were just latching onto the most attractive sight they could find, after forcibly reliving the loss of the love of his life. This was not love, Spencer concluded, it felt nothing like what he had felt for Maeve. The physical weight of the anxiety and stress he had experienced, the secrecy, the pain; all of that was missing, and that was what Spencer understood love to be.

This was foolish, he reminded himself. As of tomorrow, he would put a stop to this, whatever this was.

Spencer walked into the BAU office with newfound purpose the following morning, prepared to focus on his work and nothing else, which would not be a difficult task. Not in the slightest. He was a professional, after all, and you-

“Good morning, Spencer!”

You were already sitting at your desk, and you were smiling at him - the very same smile that Spencer had noticed you had not given anyone else on your first day. 

And, like a fool, Doctor Spencer Reid’s eidetic memory jettisoned his previously formed plan of nipping whatever this was in the bud, and instead, he smiled right back at you.

It would be fair to say that he has been a lost cause ever since. His mind has crafted a permanent residence for you, where thoughts of you swirl at a constant rate, and he has allowed such a heinous development; shocking, really. The worst part? Spencer has managed to maintain professionalism, because everything between you is mostly unsaid. It is longing glances, lingering smiles, subtle touches that nobody else would notice; save for the team of profilers that you both happen to work with everyday. You have found your footing within said team and formed fast friends, almost like you had always been part of said team, but you were still such a new and pleasant sight to Spencer each and everyday. You had not seen him through any emotional turmoil, you saw him as he was from when you knew him, and you liked what you saw, in the same way that he liked what he saw in you. There was a mutual understanding, a reciprocated tension that you were equally, acutely aware of. 

By now, Spencer knows that when he says something particularly clever, he need only glance at you from the corner of his eye to find you already looking at him with stars in your eyes. By now, you are accustomed to trying to beat Spencer into the office each and every morning, because whoever arrives first will prepare the other’s choice of beverage for the morning, which will be left on their desk in time for the other’s arrival, without a word, but with a complete understanding. By now, the rest of the team are used to sharing eyerolls and exasperated sighs as they watch you and Spencer dance around each other in such a ridiculous, but still undeniably sweet way.

You are something new to Spencer. He doesn’t have to overthink about your safety outside of dangerous cases, he doesn’t have to worry about where he stands with you, because one look is enough to reassure him. Whatever this is, it is something different. It brings about a relief to the stress of the job; the same peace a hot bath would provide, Spencer finds in every smile you give him.

But, at its core, this is unsaid. The layers to it are secret, even with what the team are able to infer from what they can see.

While his brain is focussed on the case at hand, that same little space in Spencer’s mind is alive with thoughts of you. Today, he has been tasked with working the geographical profile with Blake, who is obviously very aware of what is forming between you and Spencer, but elects to say very little about it, given how sensitive the topic could be to Spencer’s still raw heart. That said, she can’t help noticing or smiling at the way Spencer’s gaze continually drifts to the door of the small office within the local police department that they have been working all day, as though willing you to walk through it.

“I’m sure the interviews are going well.” Blake chooses her words carefully, referring to what you have been tasked with, rather than you directly, in an effort to perhaps allow Spencer to open up, just a little. 

He frowns at this, trying to convey confusion as he refocusses his gaze on the maps in front of him, running his fingers over them. 

“(Y/N) is very good. Knowing her, she’ll come in here in a few minutes saying ‘don’t worry, guys, case closed, we can all go home because there’s a rerun of Doctor Who that I can’t miss’.” Blake tries again, this time using a joke referencing a shared interest of yours and Spencer’s, which pulls the desired smile from him, though he doesn’t lift his eyes from the maps.

A moment of silence passes, in which Spencer considers his own words with equal care, before he decides to respond to what he feels is the most important section of Blake’s last sentence.

“She is…very good.”

 Feeling somewhat reassured by Blake’s words in a strange way, in her validating the obvious chemistry between you and Spencer, he finds it easier to continue to working. Of course, he still glances at the door out of habit, wishing for no more than a glimpse of you walking past it, if that’s all he’s allowed for now, but he is focussed on his work. He is a professional, after all.

That is, until his ears - finely tuned to deciphering your voice even in a sea of others - pick up on a distressed tone from you. While the wall between you prevents him from being able to piece together any words, the discomfort he can hear is enough to bring Spencer up from his seat. 

“I need to update Hotch on some details of the geographical profile that could assist with the interviews he’s conducting.” Spencer blurts out hurriedly, picking up a random case file without looking at it before rushing out of the room, once again not mentioning you by name, but making his intentions crystal clear to Blake.

She doesn’t question anything, but there’s a knowing smile on her face.

Spencer is out of the door in an instant, his eyes locking onto you a few feet down the hallway, seemingly caught in an uncomfortable exchange with a local police officer. The way your arms are crossed over your chest is enough for Spencer to understand exactly what is going on, and when your gaze gravitates to him, he sees you visibly relax, a soft smile spreading across your face. The local cop continues his attempts at sweet talking you, until he sees your expression and follows your gaze, seeing Spencer stood down the hall with a case file in hand and a frown that could challenge Aaron Hotchner’s. Clearing his throat awkwardly, the local police officer skulks off, and you breathe a sigh of relief, walking over to Spencer and smiling up at him.

“Find anything?” You ask him, gesturing to the case file in his hands, which is now crumpled in his almost white knuckles.

“What? Oh, no, I just- you sounded uncomfortable.” Spencer babbles, his mind shifting from a possessive fury that he’s never previously held for anyone, before settling into a peace that only the subject of that possessive streak can bring. 

“I was. Thank you for saving the day, as always.” You smile up at him, and with a rush of confidence, you make a gesture of standing on your tiptoes to kiss Spencer’s cheek as you pass him, and his brain short-circuits.

It takes a whole three seconds for Spencer to regain his 187 IQ points, at which time he looks over his shoulder to find you at the other end of the hallway, mirroring his action with a beaming grin. He stays still - mainly because his brain has not recovered enough for him to trust his ability to walk - but his mind conjures up a beautiful daydream of him strolling right up to you, pushing you up against the wall and kissing you until both of you collapse from lack of oxygen. His hands holding your face, your hands in his hair, his body pressed against yours, holding you up against the wall as your knees attempt to buckle under the weight of what would be the most passionate kiss in human history, Spencer is more than certain of that.

“Are you coming, pretty boy?” You call out to him, abruptly forcing him back into the present. 

An interesting choice of words, considering. 

“Where?” Spencer asks you, in turn, a smile playing on his lips.

“Lunch!” You state, like it’s obvious.

Spencer glances at his watch, bemused. “It’s 3pm!”

You shrug, but your smile is widening as the amusement grows. “Yep, and I haven’t had lunch, so, you coming?”

Spencer rolls his eyes and refrains from giving you yet another lecture on remembering to take a scheduled lunch break to ensure you have the amount of energy required for maximum efficiency while on the job - which is, obviously, his way of reminding you to eat regularly because he cares about you, not because he cares about your ‘maximum efficiency on the job’.

He quickly pokes his head through the door to the little office, tossing the crumpled case file back on the table where he had previously been sitting.

“Just going to get lunch.” Spencer tells Blake, and she raises an eyebrow.

“Lunch? At 3pm?” She questions, much like he had, and that only makes him smile again. 

It isn’t just a smile, though. It’s a bright, wide grin that takes up Spencer’s whole face, making the corners of his eyes crease, and then he disappears without a word, because his expression is explanation enough.

As silly, and as common as it is, after having lunch with you, Spencer’s smile is unwavering for the rest of the day. Yours is too, resulting in both of you receiving teasing remarks from the members of the team that you have been working with, away from each other in the hours that have passed since. 

By the time Spencer shuts himself in his own hotel room for the night, his mind is fried, and as a consequence, he cannot withhold thoughts of you to that one corner of his brain. Instead, he sees you standing in the middle of his hotel room, walking up him with a smirk he’s seen time and time again in his dreams. He feels your palms on his chest through his shirt, loosening his tie as his lips ghost yours. His shoulders rolling as you help him take off his suit jacket, discarding it on the floor before his lips fall on yours. And he can see you waiting for him on his hotel room bed, as though you were really there, and had already been there a thousand other times, on a hundred other nights. Oh, how he wishes. 

Shaking his head, Spencer forces himself back into the present, into the newly depressing sight of his otherwise empty hotel room. He removes his suit jacket with a bitter expression, knowing you would do it so much better, but alas. 

Realizing there is absolutely no way he can sleep in this state, Spencer rolls up the long sleeves of his button-up shirt, kicks his shoes off, and settles in the armchair in the corner of his hotel room. He retrieves his favorite copy of ‘War And Peace’ and decides to reread it to unwind. Just a bit of light reading.

That is, until approximately 10 minutes - and just under halfway through the book - later, when there is an unexpected knock at the door.

Deciding to place ‘War And Peace’ on the physical bedside table and mental backburner, Spencer rises from the armchair and crosses the threshold of his hotel room. The moment he opens the door, his heart leaps right out of his chest. 

There you are, in your pajamas, hugging your laptop close to your chest with a smile that Spencer wholeheartedly believes could persuade any man to do anything and everything for you.

“‘The Impossible Planet’ and ‘The Satan Pit’ were rerunning tonight, and we haven’t finished the case in time to watch them, so…” You lift your laptop in a wordless gesture, stars shining in your eyes, and Spencer Reid has to seriously consider whether this is a dream.

His perfect girl, arriving at his door because she wants to watch Doctor Who with him? Surely, fate jests.

“You are an impossible girl.” Is all Spencer can manage to say, a smirk on his face when he sees the recognition in your eyes at his own Doctor Who reference.

“Ooh, you can’t say things like that to a girl, Doctor!” You giggle, knowing you’ve got him right back with a reference of your own.

With that, Spencer invites you into his hotel room, and just like so many times before, you fall asleep with your head on his chest as the end credits roll on your laptop screen, an ever encouraging score from Murray Gold being the soundtrack to Spencer’s longing glance down at you as he brushes your hair away from your face. With a kiss to your forehead and one arm holding you in place, he turns off your laptop and sets it down beside the bed, his other arm wrapping around you to hold you to him in a gesture of affection that was foreign to him before you, but is now second nature. 

Spencer never understood what it was to fall asleep with a smile on his face, until he started falling in love with you.

By the time the team is boarding the jet home, you are all beyond exhausted, but relieved in equal measure. Another case closed, another life saved, and another trip home. As opposed to the typical night flights you tend to catch, Penelope managed to secure the jet in time for everyone to be on their way home by midday. So, instead of a silent jet occupied by sleeping FBI agents, Hotch is living vicariously through Rossi and Derek’s latest tales of seduction, you are gossipping with JJ, and at the other end of the jet, perfectly in your line of sight, Spencer is sitting with Blake, unable to resist glancing over at you every so often.

Blake has that same knowing smile on her face, picking up on more than the rest of the team has, given the almost maternal bond she has formed with Spencer, and she decides that this time, she’s going to speak less carefully.

“Spencer, what is the statistical likelihood of history repeating itself?” She asks pointedly, but quietly.

Spencer frowns. “Well, that depends on a number of variables. Technically, it would be impossible to provide an exact statistic, because there are an infinite number of possibilities at every point in every sequence of events that there can ever be, but for history to repeat itself in a direct pattern, it would be incredibly unlikely. Why do you ask?” He rambles, very much enjoying this question, this challenge to his analytical mind.

“Have you ever asked a girl out before?” Blake answers Spencer’s own question with a question, something she has previously reprimanded him for.

And Blake’s question is enough to freeze a genius in his tracks.

He doesn’t have to think about it, he knows the answer, but his confusion and shock makes that one word difficult. 

“No.” Spencer says after a moment’s pause.

“Then, to reduce your own anxieties surrounding history repeating itself, why don’t you change that and create an entirely new chain of events for yourself?” Blake suggests, giving him a small, encouraging smile. 

As always, she knows exactly what advice he needs to hear. Blake is right, if Spencer does ask you out, what’s unfolding between you and him will truly be unlike anything he has ever experienced before, meaning it cannot possibly end in the same way, the same tragedy cannot befall him if he takes the path he has been so afraid of treading. 

“How?” Spencer asks, his voice barely above a whisper, because he’s vulnerable now. He needs help from a friend, a friend he trusts with a situation that is as precious to him as this. 

Grateful that he’s taking her advice on board instead of dismissing it, Blake nods, leaning forward in her seat on the jet. 

“Do whatever feels right to you, because it’s you, exactly as you are, that (Y/N) smiles at like that.” Blake says simply, sitting back in her seat and watching as Spencer’s gaze flickers to you again, knowing from the look in his eyes that he’s just received that very smile from you, and that is the only encouragement he needs.

Nodding to himself, Spencer stands up and rushes to the jet kitchen, walking past you and brushing your sleeve with his as he does. 

From where you sit with JJ, you can’t help glancing over your shoulder at Spencer, curious as to what he’s doing in the jet kitchen and why he’s trying so very hard to hide whatever it is that he is doing. 

No more than a few seconds later, Spencer walks past you again, returning to his own seat at the other end of the jet, but not without very discreetly dropping a small, folded piece of paper into your lap. With a smirk, JJ turns away to look out of the jet window, granting you some privacy as you unfold the piece of paper, your hands trembling ever so slightly as you scan over the page, and Spencer’s own shaky handwriting.

“Meet me tonight?”

Grinning, you lift your eyes from the note and to its sender, who is already staring at you with a mixture of hope and anticipation in varying shades of hazel. From across the jet, you nod at him, and he nods back at you, biting back a disbelieving chuckle as he looks down at his lap shyly, avoiding your eyes.

You want to ask when, where, and how he wants to meet you tonight, but the excitement within the unknown is even better. For the rest of the flight home, you and Spencer exchange expressions of yearning that exceed even your usual standards, and it’s very clear that whatever this is, it’s about to come to a head.

When the jet lands back in Quantico, the team rise from their seats and stretch their limbs, retrieving their overnight bags and heading for the door. You and Spencer fall back in a silent understanding, and he wraps his large hand around yours to take your bag and swing it over his shoulder, giving you one of his signature charming smiles and ridding you of every coherent thought you’ve ever had in the process. With his hand free once again, his fingertips graze yours as you step out of the jet and head back into the office, sparks flying to such a severity, Spencer considers alerting the pilot of a problem with the jet engine.

Much to your mutual dismay, the team is tasked with case reports the second they set foot into the office again, given it is not officially the end of a working day and there is no better time to complete a report than when the case is still fresh in your mind; not everyone has an eidetic memory. And so, your equally yearning glances continue, this time from across the office, as the hours tick by and the anticipation between you grows. 

As the hours tick by, Spencer grows restless. He checks his watch, and debates with himself as to whether 6pm can be considered ‘tonight’, before he decides he no longer cares for such technicalities. With his legs bouncing beneath his desk, he quickly writes out another note, then picks up a case report and practically flies over to your desk, dropping the piece of paper on your keyboard before walking out of the glass doors and round the corner, down a hallway that takes him - begrudgingly - out of your sight.

Confused and excited once again, you open the scrunched up note and scream internally.

“Please follow me in 10 seconds and bring your case report - doesn’t matter if it’s finished.”

You stare up at the clock on the office wall, counting the slowest ten seconds of your life, and then the gravity of Spencer pulls you from your desk to fulfill your secret mission. Clutching your incomplete case report to your chest, you try to walk past your coworkers desks as casually as you can, but you can’t help feeling that the room of profilers that surround you are acutely aware of every little tell. You wouldn’t be surprised if they can hear the irregularity in your heartbeat right now. 

With trembling hands, you reach for the handle of the glass door and push through it, rounding the corner and immediately freezing on the spot. Halfway down the hallway, Spencer leans against the wall, his case report hanging from his hand loosely at his side, his other hand in a tense fist in front of him as he frowns down at his watch. 

As though sensing you, Spencer’s head turns, and when he sees you, he sighs deeply.

“12.5 seconds. I thought you might not be coming.” He says quietly, his words soft and his relief palpable.

An interesting choice of words, considering.

“Sorry, I tried to walk slowly, didn’t want to give anything away.” You explain, your voice as quiet as Spencer’s had been, the distance between you already closing on its own accord.

He shakes his head, but his eyes never leave yours. “No need to apologize. I’m certain they’ll know something’s going on, even with our efforts.”

You can’t help chuckling at that, nodding up at him as he walks closer and begins to tower over you, all words suddenly losing their meaning. In what can only be described as a silent, instinctual mating dance between two equally besotted creatures, with each step Spencer takes towards you, you take a step backwards until your back gently hits the wall, your gazes locked in an indescribable heat, lost in a tension that cannot be defined in any kind of eloquence. 

Case report still hanging loosely between Spencer’s index finger and thumb, he closes the space between you until there are only centimeters separating your face and his. With each inhale, you taste each other, smell each other, feel each other closer than ever before, and the primal attraction that Spencer had been foolish enough to believe he was too rigidly sophisticated to ever experience slaps him in the face with a rather rude awakening, but it is a welcome one. His curls touch the skin of your forehead, and you bite your lip in an effort to restrain yourself, but when Spencer’s free hand moves between your bodies to uncurl one of your hands from its fierce grip on the incomplete case report you clutch to your chest, to place your palm flat against his shirt, over his heart, you forget your own name.

“You know, researchers from the University of Chicago analyzed people’s eye movements as they viewed black and white photos of both couples and attractive strangers to judge whether the people they saw were eliciting feelings of sexual desire or romantic love, and the results revealed an interesting pattern; when the subjects judged a stranger as depicting feelings or romantic love, their eyes stayed fixed on the stranger’s face. However, when the subjects felt the photo was exuding sexual desire, their eyes strayed over the rest of the stranger’s body. The co-author of the research said that by identifying eye patterns that are specific to love-related stimuli, the study may contribute to the development of a biomarker that differentiates feelings of romantic love versus sexual desire, and an eye-tracking model may offer a new avenue of diagnosis for routine clinical exams in psychiatry and/or couple therapy.” Spencer rambles, bringing an enamored smile from you that makes his heart sing. You are always so interested in every single thing he has to say; where others roll their eyes and cut him off, you listen, and you adore him for exactly who he is.

“The reason that I’m telling you this,” Spencer continues, “-is because scientists found that the subject’s judgment can occur in just half a second, suggesting the way we categorize whether we feel lust or love for new people is innately automated.” He wets his lips with his tongue.

“Is this your sciencey way of telling me that, despite it typically being perceived as illogical, you believe in love at first sight? That’s quite controversial for a man who is so often analytically inclined.” You muse thoughtfully, your smile unwavering as you look up at him.

“I didn’t. Not until three months, four days, 9 hours, 12 minutes and-” Spencer checks his watch before meeting your eyes again, “-27 seconds ago.”

You cannot believe Spencer is daring to ask your brain to perform what is nothing short of a miracle in the form of basic mathematics when his lips are almost touching yours.

“You mean…when I…” You can barely form words.

“At the exact moment when you walked into the office on your first day, yes.” Spencer nods, his forehead brushing yours.

The palm that is still pressed to Spencer’s chest through his shirt moves to feel his tie, as though holding onto something for support while the Earth beneath your feet shifts and he is the only thing keeping you here; which, in fairness, he very well might be. 

Quite suddenly, the tension between you is suffocating, having long surpassed boiling point, and your breaths are as shallow as his.

The case report held between Spencer’s index finger and thumb is hanging by a metaphorical thread, his other hand lifting to tuck some of your hair behind your ear, his fingertips caressing your cheek as he drinks you in.

“Can I kiss you, (Y/N)?” He whispers, the boldest words he has ever spoken.

“Yes.” You breathe, without missing a beat, and Spencer does not waste another second.

In one swift motion, the case report falls to the floor, both of his hands coming to cup your face as his lips take yours, your hands holding his to keep him there. Spencer’s body presses into you, acting on a primal instinct that goes beyond his understanding, kissing you like a man starved of physical affection all his life, and there’s far more truth in that than he cares to admit. When one of your hands reaches for his messy curls, Spencer sighs into the kiss, lowering his hands to grab at your waist, squeezing your hips gently. The kiss is its own infinity lived and shared, the two of you only parting for air, but your bodies remaining intertwined, the sound of your heavy breaths echoing down the hallway until you’re both laughing, your foreheads pressed together and an insurmountable love in your eyes.

What this is, is different. You don’t know every detail of Spencer’s past or pain, in the same way that he is yet to know yours, but you have every intention to learn about each other, with this as your foundation. This, without the physical weight of anxiety and stress, with a different kind of secrecy, and free of pain; this is a mutual understanding, a reciprocated attraction beyond what Spencer thought was possible for someone like him. You are different, different to him, different to every person he has ever known, and he has no doubt that he is much the same when compared to the people in your life, too. 

You are different, you are new. You are a breath of fresh air that he will never grow tired of breathing. 

And he will always, always see you, in every conceivable way that you’ll allow him to.

[kaylopolis]

Alastor's Shadow (18+) - Chapter Eleven

Alastor x F!Reader, Alias: Thestral

Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you have finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest and with the Extermination coming six months earlier than planned, it is now time to implement your ultimate endgame. After all, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plan brings you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down but also challenge your grab for power… 

Tag List: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

(Let me know if you want to be added to the Tag List!)

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Author note: Dear Hoteliers, This chapter might be extremely triggering to some readers. I struggle with panic attacks and designed this chapter to emulate what I go through when I experience one. It also implies a history of abuse. If you wish to skip that particular section but still want to read, there will be a warning before and a note of where to pick up after.

Another short one before things get good!

<3 Stay smutty

Chapter Eleven - Lucifer's Visit

Content Warning: Minors DNI! Mentions of Substance Abuse, Mentions of Physical Abuse, Panic Attack

“Here, drink this,” Angel handed you a cup as you sat up in bed. “It’ll help.”

You brought the smokey liquid to your lips, it burned on the way down. He had given you a glass of straight whiskey. You welcomed the pain, it helped ground you. 

“What happened?” He wiped the hair sticking to your face. 

You sniffed, looking down at the glass. You had spent the entire night crying and when it was over you didn’t feel like talking much. So, Angel grabbed his laptop and the two of you watched a movie in bed.

Now it was morning - time to face the elephant in the room.

“You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you.”

“Try me,” he sat back on the bed, leaning against one of the wooden pillars. 

You told him everything, and when you were done, all he could do was stare at you. 

“So, let me get this straight. You kissed Alastor?” His jaw dropped. “Yous was right. I don’t believe ya’."

“I just told you I was an Angel tasked with hunting down Eve on Earth for the past hundred years and that’s what you’re focusing on?” 

“Well, yeah? I don’t give a shit about that. Frankly, it explains a lot. But you’re in Hell, kid. There ain’t a pure soul down here. Fuck, Alastor murdered people for a livin’ and then ate ‘em. I really don’t think he’d care that ya’ were some big and important Angel who ditched Heaven for a vacation in Hell. Lucifer literally did the same fuckin’ thang.” 

“That’s not the part I’m worried about. The kind of power I have isn’t acquired by a soul deal. I don’t really have one like Human Sinners do.” You breathed. “The power I have you take through death.”

“Ooooooh, you’re worried he’s gonna try to kill ya’.” Angel finished for you. 

You told him about Carmilla and how Velvette was able to do that much damage to you. “If he knew how easy it would be to take what I have...”

You didn’t tell Angel about the tattoo, about what you took from Eve when you found her, because you did find her. That would be too much even for Angel to handle. Rosie went an entire week thinking you were yanking her chain before she finally realized you were serious. 

“Wait, why are you at the Hotel?” 

“I don’t even know anymore…” you covered your face in your hands. 

“Wow,” Angel gawked. “This is like a fucking Soap Opera.” 

“What have I done, Angel?” You sniffed. “I shoulda just gone back to the Seraphim and told her what happened. Then maybe I wouldn’t be in this mess.” 

“Or you’d be dead,” Angel pointed out. “From what it sounds like, Heaven isn’t all rainbows and sunshine. They’re fucked up too.” 

“Yeah…” you wiped your eyes. 

“You should tell him.”

“What!?” 

“I know how this is going to go. You’re gonna go down there and torture yourself the entire time Lucifer is visitin’. Ya’ gonna do everything you can to avoid him - barely even look at 'em. And for what? Because he may or may not reject you after knowing the truth? Ya' don’t know what he’s gonna do, dollface. Unless you tell him. He tries to kill you afterward, then ya' have your answer, but at least you aren’t torturin' yourself in fuckin’ limbo with the whole ‘will he, won’t he’ bullshit!” 

He’s right. 

“I’m right, and you know it.”

Fucker.

“When is Lucifer do?” 

Angel checked his phone. “Any minute.”

“Fuck,” you jumped up from your bed and ran for the door, completely ignoring the fact that you looked like a mess and wearing the same clothes as yesterday...

“Wait! You're doin’ this right now!?” Angel called after you. 

“You’re right! Besides, if Lucifer recognizes me, it’s game over. Better Alastor hear it from me beforehand.” You fly to the foyer - static licking down your spine - making it halfway down the stairs before Lucifer’s voice finds you. 

“Ahaha. Well, it's not very clever!

“Ha, ha! Fuck you.”

Oh, no! He was already here!

Charlie jumps in between the two of them. “Okay! Okay, anyway. Dad, look at this lovely parlor where people can get to know each other and share secrets and stories and intimate feelings! Without Alastor, we wouldn't have been able to pretty it up this much. See…” 

Charlie spins him about until they see you descending from the stairs. You give an awkward wave, your feet finding the wood floor. 

“Oh, oh! Dad!” Charlie shoves the King of Hell across the floor. He comes to a stop directly in front of you. “This is Thestral, one of our newest and most promising guests.”

Please, please work. You subconsciously rub the black ink on your left forearm, hidden beneath your red sweater. 

“Hello, sir, nice to meet you,” You hold out your hand. 

He gives you a confused look, his eyes scanning your form. “Do I know you?” 

You laugh awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck. “No. No. I don’t think so. I’m sure I would have remembered meeting the King of Hell, after all.”

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

“Right,” he finally shakes your hand. Alastor comes to stand directly next to Charlie, shooting a glance over her shoulder at the King of Hell. He narrows his eyes at him. 

Lucifer is exactly as you remembered him. God, what had it been? Ten thousand years? Who even keeps track of time anymore... Yet, Lucifer hadn't changed a bit. Falling from Heaven hadn't even left a mark...

Your heart panged in your chest.

“Ahem, Charlie! Dear, eheh, why don't you introduce me to your OTHER friends?” Lucifer awkwardly laughs. 

Charlie pulls him away to Vaggie next. 

He didn’t recognize you! Your heart sinks. He didn’t recognize you…

Alastor comes to stand next to you, his eyes following Lucifer around the room. The Radio Demon’s static prickles your skin. He’s irritated - at you or Lucifer or both. 

“I didn’t realize how much Charlie looks like him…” You mumble. “I mean, I knew, but didn’t really know…”

Alastor side-eyes you, his demeanor that of the infamous Radio Demon. You tried hard not to picture him as his brown-haired, tan-skinned self. You tried not to picture the look on his face the moment the mask slammed back into place. You tried and failed...

“Looks like you could use some help…” Lucifer starts. 

“Excuse me,” Alastor gives you a short bow before jumping into the fray. 

You watched the chaos from the sidelines, Angel joining you moments later. A small giggle escaped you when Alastor dropped the piano on Lucifer. 

His eyes found yours for a beat before he jumped into a piano duet with Lucifer’s violin. Your heart skipped a beat when your eyes met, his smile faltering but a moment, before his mask slipped back into place. 

God, why did your heart hurt so bad?

“You okay?” Angel put a hand on your shoulder. You could feel Husk shooting questioning glances at you from across the room as he helped Sir Pentious up from the floor. How long had he been passed out?

Fuck, you were probably going to have to catch Husk up after all this. 

“Yeah,” you mumbled. 

You debated turning around and marching yourself right back to your room. Maybe hide until Lucifer finally leaves, and then you could talk to Alastor? It was probably best. Your presence here would just make things worse - especially considering how pissed off Alastor already was. 

If you asked Angel to hide you away in his room for the rest of the day he’d do it in a heartbeat. You could build a cocoon on his bed and watch old movies together. Fat Nuggets could cuddle and fall asleep in your lap. Did you have any lemon tarts left, you think? Or had Angel snuck into your room and finished them off while you were gone? You hoped he had - or at least hoped Nifty threw them away (even if it meant her trespassing yet again). They were most likely bad by now. 

You turned, debating asking Angel, but he looked so intrigued with the King of Hell you thought better of it. Not every day Royalty stays at the Hotel. 

You were better off alone right now anyway. 

“Mimzy!” Alastor cheered, he opened his arms for a hug. 

Shit! You took a step behind Angel, praying the club owner hadn’t seen you. 

She chatted with Alastor and Charlie. While she was distracted, you inched your way to the stairs…

“You! Don’t you move!” She used her angry voice. Angel took a big side step out of the way, clearly afraid of the small demon. Traitor…

She grabbed you by the ear and pulled you down to her level. You winced against the pain in your torso. “Where the fuck have you been!?”

“Mimzy,” Alastor warned, his eyes narrowing at the tiny demon. “We talked about this.”

His static prickled your skin, his green aura beginning to fill the room.

“No!” She waved her finger at him. “I wanna hear it from the dame, well?” She turned to you, her eyes shooting daggers.

“Mimzy, I…” you started, but words weren’t coming to you. Everyone was looking at you. It was too much. 

“Well, hello there!” Lucifer took a step in front of Mimzy, cutting her off from Alastor. 

“Oh, my stars! Are you Lucifer?” She dropped her hold on your ear. “Pleased to meetcha, Your Highness.” She curtsied and then turned to the Radio Demon. “Alastor, you gotta warn a girl when she’s in mixed company.” 

“Charmed. I’m sure,” Lucifer gave a pained smile.

Alastor butts in, “As much as I'd love to catch up, Charlie and I have a tour to continue.” 

Lucifer grabs onto his daughter, “I'm sure Charlie can handle showing me around.

“Nonsense!” The Radio Demon grabs Charlie and drags her forward. “We started the hotel together, and we'll show it off together. Right, Charlie?”

“Oh, right!” 

This was so painful to watch. 

Alastor turns to Mimzy, “Why don't you let the others help you settle in, and I'll be back before you know it!” 

They disappeared down the hallway. 

Finally, you could breathe. 

The others gathered at the bar to hear Mimzy gab about Alastor, but you had had enough of the Radio Demon for one day. Everything was a mess, but it couldn’t be solved until after Lucifer left. Which would probably be a while. Instead, you turned and headed for the music room on the other side of the hotel. 

You needed something to do. Hiding in your room would probably just make you stir crazy - plus, all you would do was panic. You debated going for a flight around the City, but you didn’t know how your muscles would hold up in your torso during the flight. You were healing, slowly but still healing. If you ripped something, you’d have to run all the way across town to Rosie, and you were not about to go asking for a chastisement, that’s for sure.

So you turned and headed for the piano room. You grabbed a random piece of music - something you’d played a hundred times - and began to play softly. 

You played for what felt like hours, just letting your mind go numb, your thoughts only on the music. And then you felt eyes on you. Not the prickle of static, so it wasn’t Alastor or Rolf. You spun and met Lucifer’s gaze.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he waved anxiously. “I just… I snuck away and heard you playing and was curious.” 

“You snuck away?” You scrunched your nose. 

“Yeah, yeah…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “That Hotel Manager is…”

“A lot,” you finished for him. 

“I was going to say insane, but you put it much nicer,” he gripped his cane. 

He looked like he didn’t want to leave, but didn’t have a reason to stay. If anyone knew how much Alastor could be, it was you. 

“You play, correct?” You asked, waiving him over. 

“Yeah, how did you…”

“There’s this duet I’ve been wanting to try for so long,” you pulled a book of music out from the bench. “Do you mind?” 

His smile was one of joy and relief. “Not at all.”

You lined the music sheets on the piano, quickly pointing out the trickier parts. You focused on some of the harder parts, playing out a few measures, before finally turning to the beginning. 

“Ready?” You beamed.

He nodded and away you played. Franz Schubert’s Fantasia was a twenty minute song, but you only focused on the first movement, which was only four. It was an intense piece, with very strong emotion and parts which could get quite loud and others so quiet your fingers barely touched the keys at all. 

Hell, it was fun. You found yourselves laughing partway through it, especially when you got so into it you bumped heads together. 

When was the last time you and Lucifer did something like this? When was the last time you heard his laugh or saw him smile? Lucifer had been gone from Hell longer than you could remember him being a part of it.

The memories you two shared… You missed him.

You finished the movement and jumped when a crowd of clapping echoed behind you. The Hotel Natives were all standing in the doorway. Everyone was there - including Alastor, but he wasn’t clapping. 

“That was amazing!” Charlie jumped, bringing the two of you into a hug. 

Your face heated from the attention, but your eyes didn’t leave Alastor’s. 

He was livid. Or wait... You followed his line of sight, which you had assumed was on you, but you were wrong. It was on Lucifer.

"...jealousy is not an emotion I am accustomed to..."

God, he doesn't know...

Mimzy stomped up and grabbed you by the ear again, stopping your train of thought. “I expect you back at the club this weekend!” 

BOOM! The entirety of the Hotel shook.

“Que carajo!” Vaggie groans as the crew heads for the lobby. 

You hesitated, knowing Alastor was never one to run headfirst into a fight. The demon made eye contact with you, but it wasn't anger you necessarily saw. It was suspicion. You swore, however, as he melted into shadow, you smelled a hint of vinegar wafting off the demon - hurt.

Alastor was hurting...

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You hadn’t seen Alastor in days and as everyone waited to hear back from Lucifer, the Hotel returned to its usual order of operations. The only solace in knowing he was alive were the screams playing continuously on the radio. 

The demon was on a rampage.

You got up, made everyone coffee for breakfast, went through a new round of trust exercises put on by Charlie, played at the club in the late afternoon, and ended the day with a drink at the bar with the boys before finding the library with a good book.

You eventually had to fill in Husk. It wasn’t fair that Angel knew everything, but Husk only had half the story. For Husk, he had known you were in Hell a lot longer than 6 years, but he kept quiet. The bar cat knows how to keep his nose clean.

After you explained everything, he confessed to Angel that he knew you from long ago when he was an Overlord. You originally used Husk as an ally in the early stages before you "fell." He was a contact for you and Eve, someone to trust (to whatever degree that might have been) once your plans turned more south - to Hell. You were supposed to link up with him 6 years ago, but come to find out, he had fallen from power. You were pointed in Rosie's direction by someone you hesitate to call an ally - let's just say partner.

The Vees had gone quiet after the attack. You didn’t know if they were in mourning or if they were planning something big. Either way, the silence couldn’t be good. Perhaps Vox finally got the hint that you weren’t interested?

At about day five Rosie removed the stitches. You didn’t talk much at the visit even though she knew something was wrong. You just didn’t have the heart to hash it out all over again while she sat there and smiled and told you everything was going to be alright. You didn’t need the false hope. 

The truth was you felt hollow, like a shell of yourself. The boys did their best to cheer you up, but it was no substitute for what your heart needed. Night after night you couldn’t sleep, the silence of the hotel deafening. You couldn’t find a record table. You didn’t dare turn on the radio. No way were you going to buy anything else electronic or another phone - Vox didn’t need easy access to your life. So, the bags under your eyes deepened, your anxiety festered more and more, and your drinking became more frequent. 

Eventually, you gave up the wine and switched to whiskey - the burn giving you something to feel other than numb. 

God, how had you let him work his way so far into your soul (if Angels had a soul)? When had he become someone you relied on to live your everyday life? Why did it feel like a part of you had died when Alastor left? 

Day seven, Angel and Husk held an intervention. 

“Alright, kid,” Husk slammed the whiskey bottle down on the table in front of you. “This has to stop. I can’t keep watching you kill yourself over someone who doesn’t deserve it.” 

“Husk…” you started to protest when a portal opened up behind you. 

Lucifer stepped through, a worried look across his face.

“Hey…. Guys…” Oh, so cringey. “Is Charlie here?” 

The three of you pointed simultaneously. The King awkwardly shuffled into Charlie’s office. 

A few moments later, you heard a scream of glee and a flurry of thank-yous. It sounds like Charlie got her meeting. 

“He isn’t worth it, kid,” Husk continued. 

Irritation prickled the back of your neck. You did not want to hear this right now. You didn’t want to hear this ever. You’ve been avoiding any conversation about it all week with either Husk or Angel. They had tried, naturally, but you’ve managed to blow them off every time. Not anymore. This had to stop. 

“Husk, I am sick and tired of the two of you constantly lecturing me,” you pinched the bridge of your nose between forefinger and thumb, the flames beneath your skin threatening to break through. A spark of static danced its way down your spine. 

“We are just trying to look out for you…”

“Well, don’t!” You snapped, the flames surfacing. “I don’t need to be babied all the time. I’m a fucking Overlord for fuck’s sake. I don’t need to be looked after, let alone babysat by a has-been at rock bottom, who was dumb enough to gamble away all his power in a game of cards!” 

Husk blinked, not entirely listening to your rant, his eyes fixated on your arms. You followed his gaze downwards to the flames dancing across your skin. 

Green, your flames were green. 

“Is that…?” Angel started. 

“Alastor’s Hellfire.” 

You held your hand out and concentrated the flames in the palm of your hand, watching as the green danced amongst your fingers. It felt… warm. Not like the heat of fire, but warm like Alastor’s shadow. A small buzz of static creeped across your palm where the flames met your skin, the same way it dances down your spine whenever he enters a room, whenever you feel his presence nearing yours. 

What was happening? 

“How are you doing that?” Husk breathed. 

Your mind flashed back to New Orleans, to the kiss you shared on the dance floor, to the flames that practically burned the establishment to the ground. Then to Alastor's apartment when you combined your power to destroy the cellphone. In that moment you felt a bond connect between you and Alastor stronger than any soul contract you had ever made. Did that have something to do with what was happening with your magic now?

“I don’t know.” You extinguish the flame, your mind flitting through a million explanations. “Husk…” You were too afraid to ask the question. “Have you ever heard of Sinners being able to share their magic with another?”

The cat demon thought a moment before shaking his head. “I’ve seen a lot of things, kid, but that isn’t one of them.” 

You turned to Angel.

"Don't look at me, I ain't know shit about nothin'."

Out of curiosity, you held your hand out again, summoning flame - yet this time, it was blue. How strange… If you somehow had access to his power did that mean he had access to yours? Panic sparked within your core at the thought. 

Did he have access to the well of magic you stole from Eve?

“Thanks, Dad!” Charlie’s voice echoed throughout the foyer. The Princess led her girlfriend and Lucifer to the bar, practically bouncing on her toes as she informed you of the good news. “We have a meeting with Heaven!” 

You did your best to muster a smile, pushing down the wave of emotions washing over you. Trying not to make too much eye contact with Lucifer, you hugged the Princess, wishing her luck. Despite everything, your master plan was still moving forward. All that was left was for the Princess’ plans to be utterly rejected by the Holy Court, and then your direct manipulation could begin.

This was great! This was… great? If it was great, why did you still feel so low? Why did your heart still hurt? 

Charlie bounced back, twirling amongst the group as she screamed in glee before listing off a million things she was going to pack for the trip. “And you’re coming with me!” She scooped Vaggie into a hug. The ex-Exorcist did not look pleased. Perhaps the Princess didn’t know of her girlfriend’s origins, for she definitely would not have asked her to come along if she had. 

"Knock, knock!"

Holy fucking shit.

"Anybody home?" A familiar voice rang out.

The entire party turned to find Vox, striding through the doors, a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a cellphone in the other.

Holy shit this guy SERIOUSLY can’t take a hint.

Husk and Angel both moved in front of you, blocking Vox’s view.

“Vox, what are you doing here?” Vaggie pulled out her spear, closing the distance before Vox got too close. The ever protective girlfriend held the point to his throat, but the media demon was unphased.

“Ah, who are you again?” The media demon nonchalantly raised an eyebrow.

“Vaggie!” Charlie placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. He doesn’t mean any harm. He’s just here for an update on Thestral.”

“What!?” Angel and Husk both choked out at the same time.

“Yeah…” Charlie awkwardly smiled. “He’s been stopping by… Didn’t I tell you guys…?”

“I thinks I woulda remembered somethin’ like that, toots,” Angel spat.

“Oh…” Charlie cringed.

Yeah, “forgot.” Sure, Princess. Fuck, what has she been telling him? What does Vox know!?

“Oh!” Nifty appeared at the base of Vox’s boots. “A bad boy!”

The media demon took a step back, clearly uncomfortable with the small demon’s gaze. Vaggie picked her up and pulled her aside.

“Charlie, is this one of your friends?” Lucifer slides himself into the conversation.

Vox’s jaw drops. “Oh, my god! You’re him! You’re the Lucifer!”

“Well,” Lucifer brushed invisible dirt off his shoulder. “I don’t mean to brag but yes, it is I, you’re humble King.”

Vox sure knows how to captivate an audience and Lucifer was playing right into the palm of his hand.

“Vox of Voxtek Technologies, at your service sir,” the media demon shakes Lucifer’s hand. “I must say, you are even more handsome in person.”

“Ouch!” Electricity zaps the King’s arm, causing him to flinch away. “Ha, ha, you flatter me…”

“Not at all! I believe you’re in the running for one of Hell’s most eligible bachelors?” The media demon winked. “Check your phone.”

The King pulled out his cellphone - complete with a rubber duck charm - which Vox zapped, sending the screen straight to a news article. The King was so entranced with what was written that he forgot the situation completely.

Why did Vox and Lucifer have to get along!?

“What the fuck?” Angel pulled out his phone and started flipping through news sources to hunt down whatever the fuck Vox was talking about. “Oh, shit it’s all over Vitter!*”

Oh, Angel and gossip...

The spider demon tried to show you his phone but you shooed him away.

Priorities, Angel!

“Actually, Vox,” Charlie smiles, her hands behind her back. “You’ve come on a good day because Thestral is…”

“No way!” Husk closes the distance, leaving Angel still guarding your side. The cat demon crosses his arms over his chest, shooting Vox a death glare. “He needs to go, now.”

“Well hello there little pet, where’s your master?”

“Like Hell I would tell you anything!”

“So he’s still making chaos in the Doomsday District then?” Vox prods but Husk says nothing.

“Well then,” Vox readjusts his suit. “That answers that question. On to more pressing, business. Where is she?”

“You aren’t going anywhere near her,” he threatens. The bartender wasn’t backing down, if anything he sized the media demon up, as if weighing his options. Fuck, you didn’t know what Husk was still capable of but you didn’t want to find out.

“Oh, down kitty.” Little sparks of electricity shoot out of Vox’s antenna.

“Hey! Don’t call me a kitty, you fu-“

“Husk,” you interrupt him. Emerging from behind your protective wall of white and pink fluff, you coax the bartender away from Vox. “It’s okay. I can take it from here,” you squeeze the demon’s paw before turning to Vox.

Mustering your most sincere smile, you say to the demon, “Hey Vox.”

“Babe! You look great! These are for you!” He thrusts the flowers into your hands

Blue Forget-Me-Knots, how original.

“What are you doing here?” You tried not to sound annoyed, you really did, but acting was Angel’s strong suit not yours. Hell, you’ve become a fantastic liar but keeping your feelings contained was a whole other battle.

“To check-in. I haven’t been able to get ahold of you and you getting hurt was my fault so…”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“Your fault?”

“Yeah,” the demon’s gaze met the floor. “Charlie said you were on your way to V Tower to see me when the attack happened.”

You side glanced the Princess whose face was turning pink. What exactly had Husk and Angel told her happened?

“Anyway, I just…” The demon rubbed his neck and huffed. “Here!” Vox pulled out two things: a new phone and a watch.

Oh, here we go again.

“As an apology. Voxtek’s latest and greatest!” The demon posed with the electronics.

“Holy shit! Is that the new VWatch?” Angel asked. “That thang ain’t even out on the market yet!”

You shot him an exasperated look. Which team are you on, Angel?

Vox took your hand in his, fastening the watch around your wrist. “I’ve already connected it to your phone!” The demon turned both screens on. A notification flashed between the two of them to show you they had connected.

“Yay,” You feigned joy. Say whatever you have to say to get him out of here.

The second he leaves this is gone. No fucking way were you giving him the ability to track you so easily. The voice in the back of your head was screaming danger! danger! danger!

“Thank you.”

“Anything for you, babe,” The demon pinched your cheek, rather hard actually. “Oh, would you look at the time!” Vox checked his phone. “I’m afraid I have somewhere to be but,” He smiled at you, winking. “I’ll see you soon, babe.”

Hopefully not too soon… Actually, hopefully never.

“Okay.” Was all you could say. Go home. Go home. Go home!

“Text me!” He laughed as he headed for the doors. “Your majesty,” the demon bowed before disappearing.

That was weird. He wasn’t mad you went AWOL for two weeks? He didn’t even ask for an explanation!? Wait, did he think the two of you were dating!? No. No. No! Uh, no! You are not dating Vox! Hell - to the fuck - no!

What in the fuck did Charlie tell him!? Was ghosting this guy not enough to send a message? Did the Princess say something to get his hopes up? Did he assume everything was good between the two of you, that you wanted this!?

As soon as the door shut you turned to Charlie, who was now hiding behind Vaggie. Irritation bubbled beneath your skin as the Princess smiled sheepishly at you. The flowers catching fire made everyone jump back. You didn’t care anymore. Who the fuck cares anymore!?

“What did you do?”

____________________________________________

Vox dials his phone as he nonchalantly heads down the street.

“Is everything in place?” The media demon asks.

“Yes, boss. The bitch won’t know what hit her.” A male voice answers.

Vox chuckles, his one eye turning red, “Good. Good. Let the massacre begin.”

____________________________________________

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! 

Cellphones across the room chimed out in chorus, including your’s and your watch.

The spider demon looked at his phone, pure panic forming on his face.

“Angel, what’s wrong?” Your heart sank. 

“Oh, toots. You’re gonna wanna see this.” He turned the pink phone towards you to reveal an alert. 

Velvette posted a video on her Sinstagram and Vox sent a notification out for everyone to see it. 

Angel pressed play. 

Velvette’s cackle was iconic, as she picked up the phone. The front facing camera was on, so you couldn’t see her face, just the floor of V Tower now newly constructed. Her skipping stopped before the camera turned back around to her. 

“Hello, Pentagram City!” She sang. “It’s Velvette here coming to you from the top of the newly restored V Tower, and I have a little friend here who wants to say hello to everyone!” She turns the camera back around, and the sight nearly knocks you off your feet.

It was Alastor, bloodied and bruised, tied to a metal chair.

This was impossible. Alastor couldn’t be captured on any recording devices or cameras. Which meant Velvette and Vox had weakened him a great deal. Where the fuck was Rolf? Why hadn’t he come and found you!? 

“Say hello, Radio Demon.” Velvette cackled, but Alastor didn’t move. Alastor didn’t move!

Alastor was significantly more powerful than this. How in the Hell did they capture him!? 

The camera turned back around to Velvette. “Your boy toy is waiting for you, Shadow. Come and get 'em!” 

The video ended. 

And you screamed. 

Tears streamed down your face as you began to shake. Angel grabbed you, ensuring you wouldn’t fall to the floor.

“Holy shit,” Husk breathed. 

Rosie told you there were bystanders. She told you people saw. Alastor must have missed one or something or… or… Then that means… 

“She… she… she…” you couldn’t form words. “She figured out Alastor was the one who saved me after I killed Valentino.” Your voice broke as you collapsed into the spider demon in a heap of sobs. “I have to go.”

“No way, Hair clip.” Angel protested. “It’s clearly a trap.” 

“They’re going to kill him, Angel!” You practically screamed as your entire body shook, anxiety bubbled in your chest, your power surging as it fed off your anxious energy. 

“I know, toots. I know.” 

“She knows I’m an Angel.” You looked at the two of them, desperately scanning their faces for answers.

“It’s my fault. It’s all my fault.” You grabbed at your hair, the blue flames threatening to break through. “If I hadn’t killed Valentino, Alastor wouldn’t have needed to save me. But I had to because Valentino almost killed you because I killed Travis.” Green static ran across your arms. 

Angel jumped back, some of the electricity zapping him. 

“If I hadn’t become the Shadow, I wouldn’t have killed Travis, and the Vees wouldn’t have gone after Alastor.”

____________(Trigger warning)_______________

You fell to your knees the entire world spinning out of control. You felt it then, that well of power deep within you that you’ve been keeping contained for the past six years. It threatened to break through, begged to break through. You were hyperventilating now, desperately trying to push that well of power down as your panic only seemed to build. 

This was your fault. Alastor was going to die because of you. If you hadn’t been so distracted, you could have seen this coming. You did nothing about the Crim situation after learning about it and did nothing to stop Velvette from buying weapons from Carmilla Carmine. You didn’t monitor the Vees after you killed Valentino to see if they were planning any attacks of revenge. 

You did nothing! You are useless! You have always been useless! Why didn’t you try harder? Why didn’t you see these things coming? You’re worthless! A pathetic excuse for a soldier! You are a disappointment to your name! A disappointment to your father! All the years of effort, all the years of training for nothing!  

Why are you still even here!? Why are you still even trying!? You’re a failure. A miserable failure in everything that you do! And now someone you care about was going to die because of you. Because you are weak! 

“No, stop it!” You screamed, clamping your hands down over your eyes. 

Stop? Stop!? You wouldn’t have to stop anything if you had just listened! Tried harder! Actually succeeded! 

A tornado of blues and greens exploded from you, plunging your world into a sea of colors. The magic spun around you, whipping your hair about your face and blocking your view of the room. 

Alastor’s dead because of you. You can’t take that back. 

It’s your fault. 

It’s Your fAulT. 

It’S yOuR FaULt. 

IT’S YOUR FAULT. 

Somewhere, a high-pitched voice screamed. Or was it you screaming? It was hard to tell. The voices in your head had become too loud to hear anything else.

“I’m sorry!” You yelled back, tears streaming down your face. “I’m so sorry! Please make it stop!”

Stop? stoP? StOp? STop? STOP? 

“Please, Dad, stop!” You screamed. 

You could hear his laugh clear as day as the voices inside your head merged into one, “Stop?”

You curled into a ball, squeezing your eyes shut so you didn’t have to look at him. 

“You’re such a disappointment, do you know that?” His voice echoed around you, swirling with the winds and colors engulfing your small form.

“Dad, I’m sorry,” you sob. “Please!” A throb in your chest. That well of power was still there, still trying to take advantage and breakthrough. 

“You’re pathetic. Lying there, groveling like an insolent child. No one will ever love you, you know. No one will ever care.”

Throb, push, pull. The power was trying to undo the knots, trying to take advantage to slip out. 

“It was a mistake to create you.” 

“I was a mistake,” you repeated. 

“No!” A voice screamed, cutting through the wind and the voices. “You are not a mistake!” 

Charlie? 

“You are not a mistake, Thestral!” You opened your eyes to find Charlie fighting against the hurricane of colors. The Princess was pushing against the wind; her hair had escaped her braid. One hand held in front of her, the other reaching out for you, she slowly trudged her way forward. 

“You are wrong!” She screamed. “You are not a mistake, and you are loved! We love you, Thestral!” 

What?

“Me, Husk, Angel, Nifty, Pentious, even Vaggie. We love you!” The Princess fell to her knees before you. “We are your family now, Thestral, and we love you.” Her hands found yours. “And we will always be here for you, no matter what!” 

You sat up a bit to meet the Princess’ eyeline. She smiled softly at you despite the chaos around. “You are not a mistake. You are loved.” She leaned in, emphasizing every word. “It. Is. Not. Your. Fault.” 

IT’S YOUR FAULT. 

It’S yOuR FaULt. 

It’s Your fAulT. 

It’s your fault. 

It’s not your fault. 

“It’s not my fault,” you repeated. 

The winds began to die down around you, the colors fading away, the voices silencing. 

Until it was just you and Charlie lying on the Hotel floor. 

“It’s not your fault,” she repeated before bringing you into a hug. You hugged her back, her warmth, her touch, her weight, a calming presence around you. 

“Thank you,” you breathed into her hair.

____________________________________________

(Pick up here if you skipped the earlier section)

____________________________________________

“Uhhhh,” Angel peered his head up from behind the couch. “Can someone please explain to me how I’m not dead?” 

You continued to breathe as Charlie held you on the floor. She did her best to fix your hair as you spoke. “Oh, my God, I’m so…”

“Don’t,” Charlie stopped you. With a hand on either cheek, she forced you to look at her. “Don’t apologize.” You had never seen her so serious. “You’re scared. We all are.” 

You nod. 

“Is everyone okay?” She asked the room.

Everyone checked in. Including Lucifer. 

“Yup! All the magical colors just make me want to throw up a bit!” The King gagged. 

Ew.

“Okay, team. What’s the plan?” Charlie stood, radiating determination. 

“Uhm, pardon me?” Angel threw himself over the couch. 

“The plan to get Alastor back.” 

“What?” Vaggie grabbed Charlie by the jacket, making as if to shake some sense into her. “You are not going up against Vox and Velvette. No way!” 

“Vaggie,” the Princess protested. “Alastor is in trouble. We have to get him back.” 

We?

“Uhm, excuse me, ‘we’?” Lucifer blinked. 

“Yes,” Charlie stood tall. “We. None of us would be here if it weren’t for him. We wouldn’t have this Hotel without him. He’s defended it more times than you can count.” 

“I don’t owe the prick anything.” Lucifer stepped in. 

“Dad,” Charlie approached him warily. “Well… How do I put this lightly… After Mom left, you kind of did too.” 

“You completely abandoned her,” Vaggie muttered. 

Lucifer looked away, his arms crossed. 

“What Vaggie means to say is, Alastor was there for me when you weren’t. He’s helped take care of me - in a very demonic way - but he did what he did because he cares about me and this Hotel. If the situation was reversed and I asked him, he would help.” Charlie’s smile turned down to a fine line. “I’m asking, as your daughter. Please, help us.” She reached a hand out for him. 

Lucifer eventually melted, taking her hand in his. He nodded, before Charlie whipped back around to face you. “Okay! What do you need from us?” 

You dried your eyes. “Us?” You repeated, meeting the faces of everyone around you. 

They all looked… determined. Well, except for Nifty, she looked bloodthirsty and downright demonic. 

They were going to fight with you.

A feeling sparked in your chest, one which was new to you but second nature to Human Sinners: pride.

Mere months ago you came to this hotel with a plan to befriend the Princess and her crew. You needed to weasel your way into her world, earn their sympathy, gain their devotion. It was a ploy of manipulation. You weren’t here to make friends. You were here for power and chaos, nothing more.

That was the plan, right?

Yet, somewhere along the way, they found a way into your world, had earned your sympathy, gained your devotion. Rosie once told you that you never let anyone in and those that found a way past your wall terrified you. Here, now, surrounded by those you genuinely considered friends, you weren’t afraid…

You felt powerful.

You smiled softly, trying to corral the overwhelming swell of emotion within you. You summoned magic in your other hand, the green static jumping across your skin: Alastor’s magic. You could feel him, feel his breath, his heart beating at the other end of the connection as real and as strong as your own.

No more running.

You tried to push a little bit of your magic through the connection, as if to say “Hold on, Alastor. We’re coming.”

You turned to the group. “Before we get started, there are some things you need to know…”

Last short transition chapter before stuff get’s good!

*The competition for the most eligible bachelor in Hell actually happened on Twitter, but I'm pretty sure it was "hottest in Hell" or something like that. It involved legit bribery and scandals, but in the end, Vox won - because, of course, he did.

-> Chapter Twelve

Tag List (Let me know if you want to be added):

@sirens-and-moonflowers @wonderlandangelsposts @saccharine-nectarine @goyablogsstuff @mommymilkers0526 @eris-norwega

@missgirlsstuff @alastor-the-radio-demons-blog @sillwormtrixareforkids @its-a-dam-blue-brick @cloverresin20

@blue-bird251 @speedycoffeedelight @littlebluefishtail @sawi1987 @mopeyghost @beelz3bub @fraugwinska @minamilinaqueen

@demoarah @diffidentphantom @divineknightmare

[grandeoatmilklatte]

Kinktober Day 2 🎃

Garreth Weasley x Sex Pollen (853 words)

A/N: There's a little academic rivals in here too!

Warnings: NSFW || MDNI || +18 plus characters || oral f receiving || m ejac ||

Garreth’s jaw dropped as he watched you in front of your shared potions classroom, showing off your latest invention.

How could you have figured out his recipe for Fizzing Whizzbeer? It was physically impossible; Garreth’s potions book never left his sight. The only answer was that you were just that good, and just that desperate to claim the title as the best potioneer in school. A title that once belonged to him until you had the fortune of being placed in the same class. Suddenly, the pretty girl who caused significantly less explosions than him was challenging his title.

Garreth thought to give you the benefit of the doubt, but as you strutted back to your seat to the sound of praises from your classmates and Professor, your sly whisper of “Better luck next time, Weasel” left him seeing a red brighter than his hair. You were now at war, and Garreth had the perfect revenge in mind.

It wasn’t supposed to hurt you. It was just a simple pimple potion. Your beautiful face would break out in red spots for 12 hours, eventually going down on its own. Totally harmless! Garreth slipped a few drops into your tea one evening while you were both working late on a project in your potions classroom, but as he hurriedly shoved the vial back into his bag, it was then he realized he had grabbed the wrong one.

The effects came quick - increased heart rate, sweat forming above your brow, a tingling sensation shooting from your stomach straight to your core. You looked up to see Garreth staring at you with concern. He had to have been the least subtle person in the wizarding world.

“WHAT DID YOU DO?!”

As an experienced potioneer yourself, you dreaded the answer, knowing full well what was happening to you. You had just been slipped an altered form of Amortentia that served as a high potency aphrodisiac.

Floods of apologies and claims that it was an accident fell from Garreth’s lips, lips that you couldn’t stop staring at. You wondered how they tasted, how they’d feel between your legs. You needed to get out of that room before you did something stupid, but Garreth begged you to stay, fearful that you’d mount the first thing you laid eyes on upon leaving. You were finally forced to stay when out of guilt, Garreth chugged the remainder of the vial.

The temperature of the room seemed to increase by ten degrees as you both stared at each other. You found yourself hypnotized by his green gaze, a state that you had actually been in before, but that you could do unabashedly now. You weren’t sure which one of you moved first, but your lips were suddenly pressed together, your tongues acting out the academic rivalry you had. Time seemed to move exponentially fast as you found yourself hoisted on to an empty desk, both of your hands moving at frantic speeds to remove your clothes which had suddenly become so very heavy.

“My goodness you are so beautiful! You know, I would have told you that ages ago if you weren’t trying so hard to be better than me.” Garreth breathed out as he sank to his knees in front of you, and trailing kisses up your inner thigh.

“I am better than you.”

You felt his breath against your cunt as he scoffed at your words. The feeling made your body ache, desperate for relief. But the feeling vanished as quickly as it arrived when he pressed his lips onto you.

You prayed to any gods that would listen that no one was close enough to hear as you cried out Garreth’s name. Fire coursed through your whole body as you clung to his mop of hair, desperate to pull him even closer than he already was. The potency of the potion coupled with the intensity with which Garreth sucked and licked at your clit brought you to climax at an alarming rate, your legs shaking and your cheeks wet with tears.

Garreth didn’t resurface from between your legs until you had fully come down from your high, his face covered in the evidence of your climax, and his hand covered in the evidence of his own. You felt a pang of disappointment knowing that you wouldn’t have the opportunity to return the favor, but promised yourself you would make due on that later, suddenly realizing that the effects of the potion had worn off when your high did. And yet, you still made that promise to yourself as you licked his climax clean off before kissing your own off his face.

— “I really hope we can do this again.” Garreth refused to meet your eyes as you got yourself dressed.

You giggled at his sudden shyness. “We can do it again, on one condition - you have to start paying more attention to the labels on your vials! This is exactly why I’m better at potions than you are, Weasel!”

Garreth rolled his eyes at you, but smiled as he took your hand, leading you out of the potions classroom.

[morelikeravenbore]

✨Sebastian Sallow fluff alphabet

My personal headcanons based on the way I imagine and write Sebastian in How to Make a Villain.

This template is from this post by snowluvs and is definitely worth a read and a reblog! I loooove reading Sebastian headcanons so feel free to write your own, too!

🌶️ Find my Sebastian Sallow spicy alphabet here.

A - Attractive - what do they find attractive about their partner?

We all know that Sebastian has a bit of a savior complex, so he's attracted to a partner who trusts him with their vulnerability by letting him protect them, care for them and fuss over them. However, he also likes a challenge, so someone with a bit of backbone to go with their vulnerability would really pique his interest. It doesn't matter what form that backbone takes, be it academically-focused, impressive duelling prowess, or just someone whose not afraid to call him out when he's acting out of line, Sebastian is undeniably attracted to that spark.

Read on 👇

B - Body - what is their favourite part of their partner’s body?

Given that he craves deep and genuine emotional connection with a partner, he's very drawn to the face: stroking your cheeks, kissing the corners of your mouth, your eyelids, your brows. He finds any excuse to touch your face, whether it be brushing your hair back behind your ear or tenderly wiping food or smudges from your chin with his thumbs. When being intimate, he holds your face between his hands, pressing his forehead to yours, never breaking eye contact.

C - Cuddle - how do they like to cuddle?

Sebastian is a squasher. He needs to feel physically close to you and will often forget this own size and strength in his desperation to hold you closer, closer, closer. He hugs you so tightly you can't breathe, or else lays his entire body weight on top of you when you're lying down together or sharing a bed. You often have to remind him to back up a little lest he squeeze the life outta you with his love.

D - Dates - what does their ideal date look like?

Sebastian is spontaneous and impulsive, but beneath all that bravado and charm, he is also quite afraid of rejection, so he might not always straight out "ask" you on a date. Rather, you might find yourself accidentally having dinner together at the Three Broomsticks, or huddled for hours in a cozy bookshop he "stumbled upon" at random. Sebastian considers any time spent alone with you a date, and would later tease you about how many "dates" you've already been on without ever being asked.

E - Equal - are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Generally speaking, Sebastian has a hard time relinquishing control to another. Given his history, he is used to taking charge, solving problems on his own and shouldering the burdens of everyone he cares about — and it goes without saying that he can be incredibly stubborn about accepting help or support, even when he genuinely needs it. However, this does tend to lead to mental and physical overwhelm; decisions become impossible, his body aches with exhaustion, and sometimes the boy just needs you to baby him — while still giving him the illusion that he has everything under control ;)

F - Fight - would they find it easy to forgive their partner? how are they fighting?

My personal headcanon that Sebastian is a Virgo sun, Aries rising. His Aries means he's reactive and oftentimes at the mercy of his more intense emotions (such as anger, jealousy — being ruled by Mars). He doesn't always communicate in a healthy way, he lashes out, snaps, or jumps to wild conclusions that don't make any sense. However, being a Virgo sun means he's ultimately a caregiver with a deep need to fix things and look after you, so he's very quick to apologise and make things right again.

G - Gifts - how do they feel about gift giving? what are their habits when it comes to this?

His gifts are either very practical (something you'll use every day), or something very sentimental (something that once belonged to his mother).

When it comes to receiving gifts, he doesn't believe he deserves them, so giving him something uselful like an interesting book, a set of quills, or a planner is the best way to spoil him without making him uncomfortable. However, if you gift him something sentimental, or something you made especially for him, he'll treasure it for the rest of his life.

H - Holding Hands - when / how do they like to hold hands?

If this boy can hold your hand, he will hold your hand, and if he can't hold your hand, he'll play with your fingers, trace the lines of your palms, brush his pinky against yours. You're his anchor, and your hands are the easiest part to hold on to.

I - Injury - how would they act if their partner got hurt?

Given his history with his parents and his twin, he is completely overbearing any time you're sick or injured. He'll fuss, worry, devise a strict recovery regime, won't allow you to lift and finger, and make you stay in bed long after you're well again. He'll research cures, studies, information about whatever it is that ails you, and will likely tell you all about it in great detail. This is where that lovely backbone of yours will come in handy, because you'll definitely have to sit him down and tell him to relax.

J - Jealousy - do they get jealous easily? how do they deal with it?

For all his wonderful strengths, Sebastian suffers from insecurities born from a lifetime of losing those he loves. His jealousy stems not from your actions, but from a deep-seated fear that you're eventually going to realise that he's as rotten as he believes himself to be and leave him. He can be a bit much, but communication is key.

K - Kisses - how do they like to kiss their partner?

Sebastian loves to kiss your face aaaall over, but once he gets started, he finds it hard to stop. Boy is a kisser, and he can get messy.

L - Love Language - what’s their love language?

Acts of Service and physical affection. Being useful gives him a sense of purpose, and touching gives him a sense of peace, so expect to be well looked after and loved. When receiving love, he responds just as strongly to physical affection, as well as words of affirmation. Tell him he's appreciated and that he's done a good job, and he'll be yours forever.

M - Mornings - how are mornings spent with them?

If you manage to get him into bed before he falls asleep where ever he's been reading or studying, it's a hard job rousing him again. He likes to cuddle, and you'll usually wake up half squashed under his body or tangled up in his arms and legs. He speaks in grunts and groans rather than words, and has super adorable bed hair. He's also usually very hungry in the mornings, so the promise of breakfast will be the motivation for finally getting him up.

N - Nights - how are nights spent with them?

Sebastian loves staying up late and doesn't need much sleep to function. His brain is always running a million miles a minute, so winding down takes him quite a while. He tells you he does his best work at night when the rest of the world is asleep.

O - Open - when would they start revealing things about themselves? how would they do it?

Typically Slytherin, he's evasive about himself and prefers to know everything about you before he opens up. Further to that, theres a lot of pain in Sebastian's heart that he won't share with anyone unless he trusts them completely. But, as Slytherins go, once he does trust you, he'll trust you unconditionally; his secrets will become yours, and yours his, and nothing short of death or betrayal will ever break that bond.

P - PDA - how comfortable are they with pda?

He's a real cheeky little smart arse about it. He loves you so much that he wants everyone to know about. He'll pick you up and spin you around as a standard greeting, sit you in his lap, kiss you midway through a sentence. Sebastian doesn't do things by halves, and the same goes for being in love.

Q - Quirk - what is a random ability that helps the relationship?

His optimism, his adventurous spirit and unquenchable thirst for knowledge means there's never a dull moment in your relationship. Above all else, Sebastian likes to have fun, and your life together will be full of it.

R - Romance - how romantic are they? cliche or creative?

There is nothing conventional or cliche about Sebastian Sallow. In fact, he thrives on being just the opposite. He probably courted you by acting like he was your boyfriend until suddenly he just was, there was likely never any conversation about being official, and the first time he said he loved you was probably in the middle of a heated argument or else said in a way that implied it was already common knowledge to you. But despite his quirks, Sebastian is hopelessly, singularly and passionately devoted to you — just don't expect any grand or sappy gestures of love.

S - Security - how protective are they?

Sebastian is so overprotective that it borders on being overbearing. Truth is, he's terrified of losing you, the one person he loves more than any other, and is prone to bouts of severe anxiety about your health, your commitment to him, and your general safety. His inability to relax is a point of contention in your relationship, and one that you both need to continually work on overcoming together. Communication is key, even when Sebastian jumps to conclusions and assumes the worst. He's not perfect, but he's trying.

T - Talking - what do they like to talk about?

Being a highly intelligent Slytherin means Sebastian loves getting deep. Nothing excites him more than discussing magical ethics, or taboo subjects like the Dark Arts or the use of the Dementors kiss against prisoners. He's unafraid to argue his point and loves a lively debate, but he has mental capacity to respect all viewpoints — even if they conflict with his own. He yearns to understand the inner workings of the mind and takes great pleasure in trying to understand opinions and perspectives that differ to his own. Any subject that expands or challenges his understanding of the world is taken on with great enthusiasm.

U - Understanding - how well do they know their partner?

He's a fast learner, very observant, and madly in love with you (obviously), so he knows basically everything about you. But sometimes he likes to think he knows you better than you know yourself. He needs to be reminded every so often that you are capable of looking after yourself, and that he doesn't need to solve every little problem on his own without being asked.

V - Vaunt - what are they proud of? do they like to show their partner off?

Aside from his intelligence, his quick wit and his sense of humour, he is most proud of his innate optimism, which (thanks to your help) has remained in tact despite all the tragedies and hardships he's endured in his comparatively short life. But more than that, he's proud to have you by his side: the embodiment of goodness and love that he never believed he deserved.

His egotistical side enjoys showing you off — you are, after all, the most attractive person he's ever seen, and having you by his side gives his confidence a little boost — but he can become a bit possessive or jealous if he's feeling insecure.

W - Whole - would they feel incomplete without their partner?

Abandonment issues and childhood trauma means Sebastian holds his loved ones very, very dear to his heart. Without you, he'd still be the driven, intelligent and ambitious Sallow he was born to be, but he'd likely lose the motivation to reach his full potential. Having lost every important person in his life, his desire to better himself after all his past mistakes is soley inspired by you.

X - XOXO - are they affectionate?

Physical affection is both how he expresses love and how he feels love; physical touch grounds him in reality and reminds him that you are safe and near. Smooth back his hair, tenderly touch his face, or play with his fingers and watch how fast he melts.

Y - Yearning - how well do they cope when they’re separated from their partner?

Since you are his home, he feels incomplete and off-kilter when he's away from you. And though he tries to honour your individuality, if you're apart for too long, he'll start to have intrusive thoughts about every bad thing that might happen if he's not there to protect you. Needless to say, when you are finally reunited, he greets as you if several decades have kept you apart — like a big, needy puppy.

Z - Zzz - what are some sleeping habits of theirs?

This boys sleeping habits are a nightmare, precisely because he has a lot of them. In fact, he actively avoids sleep, preferring to stay up reading or researching until he's tired enough to fall into an immediate slumber. Usually, you'll find him slumped over on a table or still snoring on the couch, still fully clothed, but if you do happen to get him into bed, he can't sleep without some part of his body touching yours.

[bunniesanddeer]

I really really LOVE the Touch chapters with Alastor. You write it so well! Although you have a fic on touch now already I was wondering if I could request something similar?

Persoanlly I think I'd be a really affectionate and touchy person but I simply cannot initiate touch without knowing where to touch, how long, how much pressure and so on. And asking people before hand makes them really confused and tbh I hate having to explain myself and sound needy about it. Idk if it's just me having some weird thing going on.

Anyways, would you consider writing Al with a reader that just got to the hotel and is very straight forward with people about their fear of initiating physical contact during times where reader knows someone would appreciate a hug or pat or any kind of physical contact but reader can't give it them before clearing just how hey want the touch to be.

So Alastor notices that reader acts very affectionate in moments with people who initiate touch (cuddles with Angel on the couch, does Charlie's hair). But at the same time he notices that they shy away and sometimes flinch away when reader touches someone by accident (handing someone something and their hands brush, etc) and apologizes as if they had just burned them.

He goes to figure out why that is and kind of challenges reader to touch him (after him consenting of course) whenever because the struggle and fear amuses him plenty but somewhere deep down he wants them to grow comfortable and confident since that is how their personality is over all and it suits them way better than the cowardly insecure overthinking reader who is too scared to ask for a hug on an especially bad day, even when it could literally save their afterlife.

Just fluff and more physical affection and soft Alastor

You don't have to though! We have already been blessed with some amazing works by you

Would appreciate it to the moon and back if you would take this request (or add another part to your Touch chapters because I am a girl OBSSESSED and starved, hungry for more lol)

Thank you sooooo much for reading and I hope you have a lovely weekend!!!!! <3

Hi! I hope this is something like what you wanted? I had fun writing this. Sorry it took me a little while, haha.

Challenge

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Tags: Fluff, touch sensitive reader/Alastor, slightest tinge of angst

Word Count: 2,839

When you had come to the hotel, Alastor was sure you weren’t going to last long. You avoided eye-contact with others, and your hands constantly fidgeted. You shifted on your feet, and rocked back on your heels constantly. Even when standing in one place, you couldn’t seem to be still. You seemed shifty, and he was sure you would pull something, and he would have to remove you. Alas, he was wrong. You stuck around, even if your weird tendencies only got weirder.

In the several weeks you had been residing in the hotel, not once had you initiated contact with anyone, not that he had seen. Alastor was sure you didn’t like it, until he saw Angel pick you up like a stuffed animal, and make you cuddle with him while watching the television. You had melted into the embrace, nuzzling against the soft fur of Angel’s upper shoulders. So Alastor needed to keep watching, and come up with a new explanation for your behavior.

At some point, Charlie had begged to ‘play’ with your long hair, so the two of you ended up dragging everyone into the sitting room for an impromptu ‘spa’ day. Charlie sat behind you, you were nearly in her lap, braiding one section of hair, and Vaggie was painting your claws. Angel was brushing out Husker’s fur. Niffty and Sir Pentious were talking and looking at the make up laid out across the coffee table. Alastor merely watched, amused by the group's antics every once in a while. 

He watched the way your eyes fluttered when you were embraced by the girls, and the way you seemed so at ease. Nothing seemed particularly amiss. He wondered if you hadn’t been comfortable yet, and had nearly settled with that. That was, until Angel came home, nearly in tears, one day.

“Fuck!” Angel yelled, tossing his phone harshly. It was rare for Angel Dust to have such an outward burst of anger. He always put on a show of being satisfied with his work, even when he clearly wasn’t. When Angel had settled on one of the couches, his face collapsed into his hands. “I’m so fucking tired of Val…”

Angel mumbled to himself as you entered the lobby. You glanced at Angel, and then his shattered phone. You frowned, your soft features looking nearly angry, and then picked up his phone, and made your way to him. Alastor watched from the bar, interested to see how this interaction went.

“Hey, Angie. I uh, I got your phone,” you said quietly. You sat off to the side of the couch, looking out of place, and uncomfortable. 

Angel mumbled something back, and your frown grew more severe. “I uh,” your voice trailed off, and your eyes started darting around. “Do you - do you want, like, a hug? I don’t really know what you need right now, I’m sorry.”

Alastor watches as Angel turns his head and whispers something to you. He doesn’t seem confused, not like Alastor is. He is clearly missing something. His eyes narrow, and he watches as you crawl up on the couch and awkwardly settle yourself against Angel’s side. 

How bizarre! How could you possibly not know what he needed? You were a very empathetic person, always looking out for others, and you liked being held, clearly, so how would you lack this kind of knowledge.

Alastor decides to confront you about it, at a later time. He needed to know everything about this. Perhaps it would be useful!

The next day, Alastor decides to try and get you to touch him, and then go from there. (It had been a little while since he had decided to ‘wing’ something like this. How exciting! You weren’t a bore at all!) His best bet would be to invite you to assist him for the day, so he invites you to when you’re heading down the stairs that morning.

“Ah! Just the woman I was looking for! How are you this morning, dearest?” He settles his hand on the banister, near where yours is resting, and waits.

“Oh! Good morning Alastor. I’m doing okay. What is it you needed me for?” Your smile is gentle and your demeanor open, even if you can’t keep eye-contact. 

“I was wondering if you would like to assist me today? We haven’t had much ‘bonding’ time as you and the others! I was hoping to rectify that,” he responds. He keeps his normal flair and watches you giggle at him.

“Of course, Al. It’s not like I had much going on today.” You pull back from the banister and twist to look at him better. “What do you have in mind?”

Alastor merely nods, and starts leading you down to the kitchen. “I was thinking you could assist me with breakfast, and then we can do some minor paperwork! We’ll decide what to do after that.”

You happily agree, and trail after him, leaving just enough space so you can’t ump into him. 

“We are going to make french-toast, fried green tomatoes, and ham. Should be simple enough, dear!” He snaps, and the two of you are wearing aprons. You let out a surprised laugh, and smile up at him.

“I will never get over how cool that is!” 

He waves you off, and starts pulling things out of the cabinets. He hands each one to you, waiting for you to make contact. 

Then it happens.

You jerk your hand back so fast that the whisk he’d been handing to you falls to the floor with a clatter. Your whole body seems to shrink in on yourself, and your expression collapses.

“Oh. Oh, no. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” You start rambling apologies, and it makes Alastor’s head cock to the side.

“Why are you sorry, dear?” His voice lilts with just the slightest amount of amusement, but you don’t seem to catch on to it. 

“I- I touched you! I’m sorry! I don’t know how to do it appropriately, and I’m sorry! You have more boundaries than the others and I just-” Your rambling starts to annoy him, just the slightest bit, and his eyes narrow.

“I would tell you, if I had a problem with it,” he starts. “You don’t normally have a problem. Why is it a problem now?”

You frown, harshly. It is the first time he has seen such a negative emotion on your face. (Something in him is unsettled at the sight. He ignores it, as he often does). “What do you mean? That’s not the same!”

Alastor is now genuinely confused. It is absolutely the same! How could it not be?

You seem to catch onto his confusion, and a small growl rips from your throat in frustration. “I’m okay with people touching me first, because that’s initiating contact, and they lead the whole time. It’s easier to understand what people want, and where it is okay to touch, based on how they feel, and how they are touching me. But, but when I do it first, it’s hard to know what’s okay! I don’t have someone to mimic, and it’s- it’s hard!” Your face contorts further, and you’re palpably angry. 

“All these social rules, and stuff can be so hard sometimes! It’s easier to just not do it! How can I hurt anyone if I don’t give myself the opportunity, you know?” You sigh, and drop your upper body on the kitchen island’s counter. “It sucks,” you say, your voice muffled by the counter.

Alastor feels a modicum of sympathy. You nearly have the exact opposite problem to him. You want to touch other, craving that closeness, but don’t know how to go about it. He would rather go without it, but knows exactly how to use touch on others, especially to get what he wants.

His mind whirls with thoughts of how pathetic you seem like this. You are normally so confident! Why let this silly worry prevent you from being the best you can be? His thoughts settle on a plan before he can really acknowledge it. 

“Alright then, dearest!” Alastor smacks the counter, drawing your attention. “I have an idea. A challenge, if you will. To help you get over this silly fear of yours, I challenge you to this; you must touch me every day, at least once. Each touch must be a different kind than the last, and it can’t be for the same reason.” Alastor tilts his head at you, waiting for you to take the bait.  “You are allowed to do it without asking, and it can be as big or small as you are comfortable with, but you need to do it. If you can do this, to the point where you are comfortable hugging the others without worrying about “hurting” them, then you win.”

Your head pops up from the counter, and you narrow your eyes at him. “What do I win?”

Alastor feels his grin widen. Yes, you would be fun to play with. “A small favor. Something simple. And confidence. It’s a shame that you are being held back by something so simple!”

You huff, but nod your head. “Fine. I touch you, once a day, unsolicited, and it’s gotta be different each time, or something like that. I win when I can hug everyone else without being touched first.”

“There’s my girl,” he says, watching your whole body stiffen in response. He laughs, and picks up the whisk from the floor. “Let’s continue with breakfast, yes?”

The first time you touch him is during a “movie night” that Charlie sets up the next day. She demanded Alastor participate, despite his well known hatred of television, and everything to do with that technology. You had silently approached him as the group set up pillows and blankets on the floor around the TV, and against the couches. The two of you watched idly, before you spoke up.

“Can I sit with you,” you asked softly. 

“Of course, dear! Good company might make this terrible idea more… palatable,” Alastor grumbled. You smile at him, and laugh a little. 

“Oh, the horror. Sitting with your friends, and relaxing,” you respond, tilting your head at him. His static surges for a moment, but he says nothing in response. You laugh again, although he’s not quite sure why.

When the group finally gets settled in for the movie, and the lights are turned off, he watches you shift about in your seat. Your eyes dart around the room, and your hands fidget. It takes a few minutes, the intro to the movie already going, for you to finally look at him. You scoot closer to him, more than halfway across the couch. You wait another moment, and Alastor’s eyes don’t move from your form. He just watches you fidget with amusement. Finally, you speak up, barely a whisper.

“Hey, can- can I lean on you?” You are so hesitant, and it makes his eyebrows furrow, just the slightest. 

“Of course, dear,” he whispers back, his static barely a murmur. Your body slackens, all the tension drawn out. 

“Oh, good,” you mumble, pressing your small form against his side. It takes a few moments, but then you are completely calm against him, head pressed into his arm, your hands against his waist, and knees curled up under you and tucked against his thigh. You mumble something about him being warm, and all Alastor can do is agree. 

You are so very warm, and it has him almost anxious. He isn’t sure what about, as the room is calm, and the silly animated picture-show is easily ignored. You are so very warm, and he can feel each breath your body breathes in. He can nearly hear the soft pound of your heartbeat, even over the picture-show. His nose twitches at your scent. He will have to take a far-too hot bath later to remove it. It’s fine, though. It’s all part of the game. 

Alastor ignores that you’ve fallen asleep on him. It’s for the best.

The next day, you offer him a “fist-bump”, which he doesn’t understand. You laugh, and explain the gesture, and show him how it looks.

“You do it when you did something cool, or when you’re having fun with your friends.” You smile at him and constantly gesture with your hands while you talk. It keeps his attention quite easily. “Ah, here, let’s see if you understand. What was the last cool thing you did? It can be whatever.”

Alastor thinks over the last few days exploits, and shrugs. “I made a sinner cry by merely looking at him, this morning.” 

You go stock still before bursting out laughing. “Really? Oh my gosh. Seriously, fist-bump,” and you offer your knuckles. Alastor hesitantly returns the gesture, knocking your hands together. However clumsily it was done, it makes your smile wider. “Nice! Yeah, that’s exactly how you do it!”

If he tries the gesture on the others later on, he never tells you. Charlie got a kick out if, though. He refuses to tell her who told him about it. 

One day, you’re assisting Niffty cleaning, but can’t reach a spot way too high for either of you to get. Neither of you can find a ladder, and Alastor is watching with a far too delighted smile. When you spot him, you smile mischievously.

“Alastoorrrrr,” You call, your eyes narrowing playfully. “Come here. Please.”

He strides over, not letting his hesitance show. “What can I do for you, my dear?”

“Can I get up on your shoulders? I need to be able to reach that spot with the duster.” You point up at where you need to dust. He looks over at it, and realizes you are definitely not getting  up there without help.

Alastor cocks his head at you, thinking over the logistics, and then nods. He kneels down, and feels you pull yourself onto his back, propping each leg over his shoulders. When you are still, hands gently around his neck, he stands up straight. He feels you wobble and then balance with a laugh. Your hands let go of him. He feels each breath and laugh and words from you gently vibrate his head with how close the two of you are. 

“I’m so tall! Hahah! This is great! I wish I was always this tall, haha!” You keep laughing, and readjust your duster, pointing at your destination. “Onwards, my steed!”

Alastor rolls his eyes at your antics, but obliges, standing closer to where you need to be. Niffty is squealing, and it’s making you laugh harder. Alastor joins in at some point, and then the three of you are running around the first floor of the hotel, terrorizing the others with your hijinks.

Alastor thinks, privately, that you make him laugh over the little things, something that he hasn’t done in a while. He isn’t sure how to feel about it.

It’s several weeks after the challenge had been initiated, that he finds you hiding in a side-closet. Alastor isn’t sure how he knew you would be there, but the discovery throws him. You’re crying. Nearly bawling your eyes out, and you look uncomfortable with the way your small body is curled into a tight ball, surrounded by cleaning supplies. 

“Oh, hey, Al,” you say, your voice rough. “How’d you find me?”

“Just needed to follow the sound of despair, apparently, my dear,” he responds without a thought. He nearly winces when his words process, and he shakes his head. “I’m not sure, dear. Whatever are you doing in there?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Something upset me, but I can’t remember what.” Your voice trails off, and you look at where you have situated yourself. You huff, and pull yourself out with a grunt.

You dust off your knees, and the back of your pants, frowning. “Sorry you had to see that, haha.” You try to muster a smile, but Alastor sees right through it. “Right.”

Alastor simply watches as you shut the closet door, and try and calm yourself down. 

“Gosh, I feel dumb.” You frown at the ground, and sigh. “Alright. Can I have a hug?”

Alastor’s eyebrows raise. Oh. You were finally ready to hug him. How interesting. 

“Of course, dear.” He opens his arms, not even bothering to check for others seeing the interaction. You rub your face, and then step between his arms. You wrap yourself around him, loose at first, and then you embrace him hard. His arms fall around you, and he pulls you in close. His head settles on top of yours. 

You are still so warm, and you smell wonderful; something comforting, something familiar. Your heart thrums against your ribs, and he can feel it pounding. His ears twitch at every soft sound. 

This is nice. Although there is still time, part of him mourns the day you are ready to win his challenge. He supposes he can enjoy each little bit of connection the two of you have, until then. 

Taglist: @numetalnerd2007 @girl-nahh-two Remember, you can be added to my taglist by replying to the tagged post on my page!

[hoseokslefteyebrow]

The Anomaly || JJK

Chapter 11: Thunderclap

summary : In which you're isekai'd from your (own) parallel Jujutsu Kaisen universe to the canon universe.

wordcount : 3.2k

Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen X Reader, eventually Character x Reader (idk who yet tho)

Masterlist | Next

You still have no idea whether the man is okay.

Instead, he's decided that you are his enemy, about approximately 3 seconds after you asked him that question. You have no idea why, but you don't exactly have the time to think about it either as he pounces at you, his hands pressed together in front of him as he sends a fierce line of blood your way.

You dodge just at the last second, the attack only snagging very few hairs. But then-

Wait-

Blood?

You know that technique.

" Wait! What's your name?" 

He narrows his eyes at you, glaring as he huffs. His attack doesn't stop, and instead, he sends multiple blood missiles your way.

" Kamo Choso. What's it to you?"

You raise both your hands, your technique overpowering his own. At once, the blood missiles stop midair.

This was the very reason why the Kamo clan disliked you. Not only did your mother marry an outsider, she also gave birth to someone who could nullify their preciously honored technique.

You don't know a Choso. Perhaps he was only in this universe, and not your own.

Choso's eyes widen, taken by surprise, before they narrow again into a glare. 

" What's your technique?"

" Wouldn't you like to know? Don't bother fighting me. This is a fight you will not be able to win." 

You glare right back at him, your warning very much a statement. You ready your stance, holding his blood missiles in place for now.

He grits his teeth, the mark on his face tightening up, elongating into a thin, dotted line.

He doesn't say anything after that, instead charging at you to face you in hand to hand combat. You don't back down, reshaping his blood in a circle around you, you send it straight back at him. Granted, the circle was thin, but it was enough to catch him off guard.

Meanwhile Choso is completely confused. He hopes he isn't showing it too obviously ( and it's working, you have no idea that you've completely caught him off guard.) Although he has never run into other sorcerers who can use blood manipulation, he's sure that they shouldn't be able to use his blood. It's weird, considering you seem to be able to. He's trying to puzzle together the pieces of your technique, trying to figure out how you manage to control his blood.

However, Choso has not met many sorcerers, and doesn't have the needed knowledge of the water skins resting on her hips to be able to connect that your technique is something related to water. And as long as you won't use it, he'll never know.

Soon enough, he's onto you, throwing punch after punch. He's quick, nearly as quick as the Sukuna you're familiar with. Meanwhile you keep 'dancing' around him, your body following his movements fluidly. It's like you're his shadow. You're there, but he's unable to land a hit on you just yet.

Gritting his teeth at the challenge, he narrows his eyes at you, studying your physical features.

" What's your name?"

The question catches you off guard for some reason, your millisecond lag of response giving him the opportunity to land a good punch in your face. You cringe as you hear your nose crack. 

Fuck, he's stronger than you expected. He definitely just broke your nose. He doesn't understand your technique, so it's best to heal it later.

Blood trickles down your nose as you grumble and get up, wiping your sleeve against your nose. The bleeding doesn't stop, but you choose not to pay too much attention to it.

He is not getting the chance to hit you again. It's simply too risky.

" Y/N. Kamo Y/N." 

His eyes narrow as he approaches you, his mind whirring with this newfound information. Wouldn't that make you family of the body he possesses? That was concerning, and difficult. 

Noticing your name has caught him off guard, you take your chances. You close the distance between the two of you quickly, before aiming to kick him right across his face.

Sadly, he catches you at the very last second, blocking your leg and aiming yet another punch at you.

However, he's caught by utter surprise as you manage to use his arm to flip your weight over him, doing a cartwheel right over him. His eyes widen. He had already noticed that you were flexible, especially with how you kicked him just now, but you're more athletic and agile than he had expected.

For a moment, a peaceful silence seems to hang over you two, the both of you panting to catch your breaths.

And then you're both charging at one another again. The fight is quick paced, kick after punch after elbow after knee, and all blocked or avoided by one another.

It's been a good while since you've had to work this hard to keep up with someone in physical combat. Choso is physically much stronger than you. ( Sadly, most people you find yourself against are, though that isn't usually an issue.) On top of that, he's fast, fast enough to keep up with you. Usually, your quick reactions would cancel out your lack of strength. Sadly, it does not today.

However, in one lucky hit, you manage to punch him right in the ribs, somewhere Yuuji has delivered a blow earlier as well ( Though you have no idea of that, so you really are just lucky.) 

You collect your breath, spitting out the blood that's trickling down your nose as you fix your gaze on him, readying your stance.

" Where's Yuuji?"

His eyes widen like you've just spoken about a miracle.

" Yuuji- Yuuji's-" 

He doesn't have the chance to say whatever he's wishing to say. From a distance, a dark, evil cursed energy had been around, and it was moving now. In fact, the entrance behind you bursts full of flames, like someone has fire wielding abilities and has dropped it down right on the ground above you.

The metro station shakes, and in a reflex, you draw yourself closer to Choso. You uncap one of your water bottles, and with more water then you'd like to use, you create a shield, trapping you and Choso in a water bubble.

Choso is looking at you with wide eyes as you do that. 

Weren't you supposed to be his enemy? 

He doesn't speak until the fire has died down, until your water shield has evaporated due to the heat. You're breathing heavily due to the scare of it, your body sweaty from the heat of the flames that nearly licked you.

" You- Are you Itadori Yuuji's friend?"

You raise your hands against him, clasping your water skin closed. He's been kind enough to not kill you while he had the chance but you never know if he decides to do so again.

" Yes... Why..?"

For a moment, Choso is just staring at you, his mind all over the place. You've sincerely got no idea what's going on in his head, but you don't question it this time.

" I- You can leave. I won't kill you. Or harm you."

And with that said he's walking away, his head in his hands once more.

You're left utterly confused, your eyes questioning what just happened.

However, you choose not to ponder on it too long. You have no idea what's going on the grounds above you. For all you know, they need your help.

Without another thought, you sprint up, up the stairs and-

Your eyes widen, taking in the destruction surrounding you.

Something big had been passing over. Every building around you seems to be in shambles, half burnt, or cut in two. With wide eyes, you pass along, hoping to find someone familiar at least.

On top of that, that pull of cursed energy that exactly feels like your own, is starting to feel less distant. It's heading towards you now. 

You don't have time to think about that too much, your eyes widening as you round a corner.

" Megumi!" 

Stood a few meters away from him, was another sorcerer (or curse user?) You don't know.

Megumi is in terrible shape. He's laid against a wall, knocked out, his head hung low, and covered in blood.

Your eyes widen as you run over to him.

You don't bother turning to face the stranger with a ponytail. You don't know who's side he's on, but you just hope he won't bother you.

You uncap the water skin you have, not wasting a second as you press your other hand to Megumi's chest. His heart is still pumping, his blood flow alive under his skin. You manipulate the last of your water around your hands, pressing it against the places where you guess he's hurt the most.

To your surprise, the very worst of his injuries are okay. Like someone's been here before. Healed him already. You can feel Shoko's reverse energy signature, though it's distant. It couldn't have been her. However, this leaves you to wonder, who was it?

You're sigh, noting that you need more water. You won't be able to fully heal him, but he still has injuries that need to close up. Focusing on the very core of your strength, you raise your hands, pulling water from thin air. It's a demanding part of your technique. Exhausting you, though you figure you'll come across a water source to heal yourself sooner or later. Even a simple tap would do.

You'll be fine.

You continue healing Megumi. However, you're pulled from your thoughts when ponytail suddenly starts laughing, charging at you with his sword in hand.

Your eyes widen. You can't stop the healing process now. If only your Sukuna was here- He'd have-

The source of your cursed energy is here.

Your mouth falls open in shock as ponytail gets pulled back by his hair, thrown in the nearest building.

In front of you, with his back facing you, is your closest friend.

" How stupid are you to heal someone when an enemy is stood right beside you?" 

Overrun with positive emotions, your reverse cursed technique finishes up quicker than expected.

" Sukuna!" 

You throw yourself at your best friend. Hugging him tightly, your arms snaking around him as your face is pressed in the crook of his neck. You enjoy the familiar warmth as he hugs you back tightly.

Because it doesn't matter how cold or tough Sukuna may act, you know he cares more deeply for you than anyone you know.

The two of you remain in each other's embrace for a moment, happy to finally be near one another again. When you finally pull apart, your touch lingers on one another.

He glances over at Megumi.

" what happened to him?"

" I'm not sure."

" It couldn't have been that ponytail, right? Megumi's not weak. Or is this Megumi weak?" 

You shake your head, your eyes glancing at him.

" You're already aware that we appear to be in a different universe?"

" Nobara filled me in.- How much water do you have left?"

You grin cheekily at him, your hands messing with the bracelet on his wrist. Of course, that's why it felt so familiar. That pull you felt is your cursed energy. The energy you lended to your best friend so you could always find one another in times of need.

" Seems it led you to me once again." 

You grin at him. Sukuna was not amused. He knew you were really just avoiding the question and trying to get him distracted.

" So you've got no water left?"

" Err- Well, no- "

He cuts you off, heaving an annoyed sigh. Pulling his arm out of your loose grip, he uses both hands to untie the water skin on his back. The one he always wore with him, just in case you managed to run out of water.

" Have you been carrying that around all this time while I was gone?" 

He scoffs.

" I knew that I'd find you, and I knew you're stupid.-"

A demanding presence suddenly silenced both of you.

You turn to your left, noticing Yuuji- no- Was this the Sukuna of this world? The one they spoke of?- Either way, he was stood barely a few meters away from the two of you, his eyes fixed on yours.

" Oh, nice, there's another me."

Ryomen Sukuna smirks at his words, you step back, pulling your best friend with you.

Fuck, he doesn't know.

" Erm- Kuna', this you is, well, complicated and uhh, not nic-"

You don't get a chance to finish your last word. Instead, Ryomen Sukuna has grabbed you by the neck, and has taken to the sky, once high enough, he flings you into a building not too far away.

Ryomen Sukuna is annoyed. Two golden opportunities. Killing you, and witnessing the full strength of Fushiguro Megumi. On top of that, he finally had the space to fight again. However, it appears he doesn't have enough time. Below his skin, Yuuji is desperately grappling back for control, and it won't take long until he wins.

He needs you dead before you know of your actual potential. Of just how strong you actually are.

Noticing your bloodied form moving beneath the rubble, he grumbles in annoyance.

He aims at you again, intending to choke you with his bare hands. 

However, before he can reach close enough, a chain is wrapping around his middle. He's barely glancing down at it, before he's pulled down, harshly into the ground. 

It doesn't harm him. Not in the slightest. However, his interest has been piqued.

" Who're you?"

Standing across from him, stood none other than a replica of him, with minimal details. The only detail that stood out to Ryomen Sukuna was his duplicate's lack of cursed energy. 

Your Sukuna doesn't reply, his eyes narrowing at him.

" Could ask you the same. The fuck's your issue?" 

Ryomen Sukuna smirks.

" You have no cursed energy. You can't defeat me."

With that said, Ryomen charges at his duplicate. Kuna' is quick, on par when it comes to hand to hand combat. It's a quick work on punches and kicks, elbows and knees as they fight one another. 

Meanwhile, you climb out from under the rubble, holding your ribs which are broken without a doubt. You grit your teeth, shaking your head in hopes to shake away your hazy vision. You will not die here. And neither will your Sukuna. You will personally make sure of that.

Meanwhile the two are still fighting one another. Your Sukuna is able to handle more punches than Ryomen expected, and he can't help but feel annoyed by it. However, in one lucky opening, he manages to land a swift, strong punch to his duplicate's stumic, sending him flying back.

On his other side, you have approached as well, your body flexible as you take up the challenge to fight him.

Truth to be told, you've forgotten that he specifically wanted you dead. 

You don't really realize that he wouldn't bother to finish off your best friend, that he'd chase after you instead. 

Sukuna finds himself even more annoyed with your style of physical combat, you're dancing around him, using his weight and movements to your advantage. 

He doesn't understand where you're getting the strength from. You're all bloodied up, injured, and you're still fighting. Perhaps you're growing stronger on a quicker pace than he'd like.

He smirks at you, done with your fluid movements as he grabs you by the neck. You glare at him.

Behind him, he can hear his duplicate getting up. At the same time, he can feel Yuuji push more and more for control, desperate to not have you dead.

 " Watch and learn, you have no cursed energy. You're not strong enough to win from me.-"

His duplicate is much quicker than he expected. Before he can react, he's send flying in the building behind him.

Your Sukuna grits his teeth. You cough, getting up from the floor as you fix your sight on the unbothered four eyed male who's leaving the building unscathed once again.

He's closing the distance between the two of you with the blink of an eye- his hand raised for what you don't doubt to be an activation for his slice technique.

Instinctively, you fall back, your hands raising as you take control of the closest water source.

You hate doing this. By your own morals, you never use it until you have absolutely no other option. And judging by the fact that Yuuji is currently prisoner in his own body, you suppose that this is one of those moments. You hate it, but you can't allow him to kill you.

At once, Ryomen Sukuna's movements still.He cackles.

You're not sure why, but after a moment, a glint appears in his eyes as he looks at you.

" Ah, you're lucky. The brat's gaining control. You won't be so lucky a second time."

Beside you, you notice your Sukuna about ready to slice his neck, and you raise an arm, stopping him as he gives you an incredulous look.

" Y/N, what the-"

" No! You don't understand. You can't kill Yuuji!"

Your Sukuna watches with wide eyes as the marks on Yuuji's face disappear, the smirk falling off. His mouth falls open in shock as his brother's features take over, wide eyes taking in the scene.

The resistance against your manipulation is gone, yet your body still trembles due to the adrenaline rushing through your body.

" Yuuji?"

Your voice is careful, uncertain, as you don't lose your control over his body just yet.

" Y-Y/N, I-"

With that, you release your hold, falling to the ground. 

Yuuji looks around. His eyes connect to your Sukuna's for a moment, but neither say anything.

Your Sukuna doesn't know how to act, or what to do or say. He knows him as his brother. He doesn't want to kill him, but he doesn't understand what to make of the situation either. What just happened?

Instead, he walks over to where you've collapsed, your body out cold.

Yuuji watches him move. He's picking you up with care, carrying your body close to his own, picking up the water skin that's lying on the ground abandoned as he carries it on his back once more.

And then he's walking off, not looking back once.

Yuuji throws up as he remembers what just went down.

He almost killed you.

You would've died if your Sukuna hadn't been there.

-

The Anomaly Taglist:

@luxylucylou @kalulakunundrum @strxbxrrylover @aethersslave @jenniferrvsesi @hanatsuki-hime @betizda

[witchthewriter]

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞.

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!  

Warnings: swearing, some fighting - all in your honour though!

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

After a long day, your s/o decides to take you to a nearby tavern and have a drink. It had been a while since either of you had gotten out without a duty to do. However, your evening was cut short when a drunken asshole insulted you.

𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍

・Merlin would never be able to keep such a big secret from his spouse; he'd want to give every part of himself to you. And so he had. You welcomed the secret with open arms.

・So when you made your way down to the tavern after a particularly challenging day, you were not expecting to be outright insulted.

・The bald fat (toothless) man let the words escape his drunken mouth without the hint of a thought of consequence.

・Big motherfucking mistake.

・A bewildered laugh came from Merlin. His mind already sifting through the many spells he was about to use.

・You looked at him, and simply nodded. This day had been too heavy, and the insult, no matter how untrue, was still hurtful.

・'Out of nowhere' (as some patrons would later explain it), the man flew from his chair and landed in the lap of the burliest man there.

・Strong man was furious and as he looked down, anger rose within him (you could physically see it ... he turned red...)

・Without even lifting a finger, your hater had been punched, and kicked straight out of the tavern. Not before Merlin made him land in a pile of dung.

𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐓

・When your honour is in question Lancelot does not play around.

・As he hears the insult, automatically, his head moves to the left, and he blinks once.

・Without a word he unsheaths his sword and waits for the low life to do the same.

・When the low life doesn't, Lancelot makes someone give him a sword, and drags him outside.

"I'm going to make you think twice before saying such filth."

・And the high pitch ring of steel on steel rang out in the air.

・The whole time your head was in your hands, because truly, you had heard worse. You were tough, and all you wanted to do was get a bit sloshed with your hot ass husband.

・But no, he insisted on fighting for your honour ... like he always does.

・And low and behold, the Knight of Camelot won.

"Are you alright, my love?" Lancelot's lips were pressed against your ear, and you nodded.

"You know you don't have to do that for me-"

"Oh I know," he replies quickly, giving you a half smile. "But you are my spouse. And I will always protect you."

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐑

・Scoffs, a smirk on his lips as his eyes narrow on the idiot who insulted you.

"Do you know who I am? Well... I guess not. Someone with a brain would never insult the King nor his Queen/Consort"

・Gasps were heard around the tavern

And the man went as pale as Gaius' hair

"Ah, I see you've figured it out. Thought I might have to spell it for you."

"Oh Arthur," you scolded, bumping his shoulder.

・You had heard it all in your lifetime, and one day you decided that the words of sheep do not affect a tiger.

"What would you like me to do with him, my love? The dungeons? The stocks?"

・You watched as the man quivered. He would have been in his mid-twenties, barely a whisker on his chin.

"Hmmmm," you pretended to think. Your mind already made up. It was a silly little comment, from a silly little boy.

・Arthur knew you too well, his gaze turned stern on the young man. A rusted sword hanging on his hilt. He had begun to shake.

"I think we should leave him be. Maybe he won't let his tongue wag so freely."

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐋

"Excuse me? What was that?"

・Percival instantly shot up from his seat at the table. The candle flickered as he did so, and you reached out to steady it.

"Perci, it's fine, really." You mumbled, not wanting to draw more attention to yourself. But one of the positives of having such a huge husband is that he will win against nearly anyone in a fight.

・Well, most of the time, men are too scared to even fight him.

・As was your insulter.

・Whose bravado slowly diminished as he watched the large Knight loom over him.

"What I- what I meant was-"

"Apologise."

"Sorry, I'm terribly sorry. I didn't mean it!"

"Now leave."

"Yes, yes of course!"

・You were actually impressed by the cowardice of this man. He didn't put up one ounce of a fight. Just followed exactly what Percival said.

"Thank you," you whispered, a smile appearing on your face.

"No. Never thank me. I will always stand up for you."

𝐄𝐋𝐘𝐀𝐍

・A raise of his eyebrow, and a turn of the head. A cold, intimidating demeanour washing over him. Elyan noticed the clean face, shining armour and coat of arms on the man's cloak.

"Say that again. I dare you." His voice was a growl; low and rumbling.

・The man, no, knight, did not shrink or apologise.

"Oh what a match. The marred and the deaf. A great pair-" the knight turned around and laughed with his men.

"Mmm." Elyan looked at the arse like a snake deciding on dinner.

・Your hand itched to grab the dagger at your waist, but Elyan knew you too well.

・Looking at you, he put a hand on your arm and slightly nodded his head. I want to handle this, his eyes said.

・Folding your arms, you took a step back, 'be my guest,' you answered with a smile.

𝐆𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄

・Aggressive asf

・Doesn't even ask who said it first, he just throws himself at anyone and everyone who laughs

・Absolutely punching and kicking, grabbing heads and banging them together.

・You shake your head but join in, because that's part of the reason Gwaine loves you. You never let him have all the fun.

・And you would never let anyone talk crap about you. Especially to your face. That's not the reputation you wanted to hold.

・But who knew brawls could be romantic? With Gwaine somehow they are...

・Especially when he holds a man down so you can give him a few punches, Gwaine smiling at you.

"That's my girl/that's my guy"

・But it's not like you're allowed into many taverns anymore

・Only when Arthur, the King is there, that you're allowed to enter.

𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍

・Instantly his nose flares, invisible steam streaming from them.

"Apologise. This instant."

"Ooohooo," was the only reply he got. Along with the awful sound of drunk men's laughter. Well, more like coughing and wheezing.

"I'll ask one more time. After that, you'll be on the ground."

・The men barely looked in your husbands direction. Big mistake...

・Leon moved to block your view of what he was about to do.

・Because his word was truth.

・Within a second, the man who insulted you was on the floor, nose broken and bleeding.

・Once he's sorted it out, Leon turns to you and holds out his arm for you to take.

"Are you alright my love?" His concern falls on you and doesn't leave until you're feeling better.

[inside-lees-mind]

HII I saw your requests are open and you wanted um. Neji. Reqs. Hi. um.!! Could you write something of him with a reader thats not from a strong clan (They are well known but not for fighting or even field work) and doesn’t have a Kekkei Genkai or anything but is strong regardless,,, wields a sword and is great at fighting physically and all that. She teases him a lot and gets not his nerves but it’s all affectionate! She does get underestimated a lot though. I’ve had this idea sitting in my head ever since I watched naruto,, saw team guy and fell in love they are my roman empire

Neji With an S/O Who Isn’t From a Prominent Clan

Idk if i capitalize titles right tbh. I forget how it’s done honestly. I don’t remember if “With” gets capitalized.

Anyways, thank you so much for your request!

This is a little harsh in the beginning. So WARNING! For asshole genin Neji.

No gender specified, but “beautiful” is used

An uneven number of shinobi graduating from the academy was so oddly unheard of that at first, you ended up training alone with some jonin who took pity on you.

And at first, Neji had said something to his team about that just being the fate of people like you. Destined to be alone and a failure.

No need to give you some chance for a big break in life, this would happen any way you put it.

Neji didn’t ever figure he’d be willing to die for you one day. (Maybe he’s not the character to say this for…)

He dreaded when Gai Sensei introduced you as a new teammate of team 3.

Of course Gai would go through the trouble of taking pity on a wimp like you. He should have expected no less.

Tenten was excited that you wielded a weapon, however.

And Rock Lee was excited to have a new teammate! Not to mention, you were beautiful. He was just a little smitten…

Overtime, he watched you train. And as Tenten marveled over how well off you were in your skills with your ninjato! (A ninjato is a straight sword, if you don’t know. Sasuke uses one)

And in the same way he thinks Rock Lee or Naruto are destined to never make it anywhere, he thinks the same of you.

After the chunin exams and the Konoha crush, he begins to think differently of you. He thinks differently of himself, Rock Lee, and Naruto as well. Even Lady Hinata.

Overall, he becomes more pleasant to be around. And you both start to talk a bit more often.

Soon he fines Lee’s insistence on flirting with you so openly is annoying, and not just because he won’t shut up anymore, but now it’s that he’s jealous.

He’s jealous?

He’s jealous.

And when he watches you fight while on missions, he’s got a different way of looking at you.

Maybe somebody with no Kekkei Genkai and no prominent clan can really make it. Maybe you aren’t destined for failure. Maybe that challenge is just something you can overcome, become stronger.

And you have.

I think being with him would be a classic case of you fell first, he fell harder.

You didn’t fall immediately. You were very sweet, but anybody with a brain knew Neji was a total asshole. Even if you were rather nice to him, you didn’t have eyes for him beyond thinking he was pretty for a guy.

So once he starts to be nicer, you quickly realize he’s not just visually your type. You really like the guy.

It takes him a couple years to fully realize he fell for you.

And a bit longer to realize Lee, as much as he cares for him, is testing his patience asking you out. When will he give up?

So he realizes, if he keeps quiet, are you gonna give in and let Lee have a chance with your heart?

So he ends up asking you out on a date after pulling you off to the side. Making sure you were out of earshot from anybody, especially your team.

You both keep it silent from Tenten, Gai, and Lee. Anybody really. For a while.

He wonders how none of them notice the way you tease him more than the others. The way you’re just a bit too touchy with him. (Tenten noticed, but she keeps her mouth shut for a while)

The way you insist on braiding his hair or tying it up for him before training or something to get it out of his way.

Or just beg him to let you braid it for fun. No real reason.

Usually he rolls his eyes, groans, and says no. Firmly. But he’s not so firm with you.

He looks so pretty with his braided hair. Let’s just say that.

Until finally Neji snaps a little bit at Lee, “When will you realize, y/n has a boyfriend, Lee.”

Lee’s eyes go wide, and he’s visibly upset. But soon his brows just furrow a bit as he exclaims “WAIT, WHO??”

Neji realizes his mistake, but he’s not ashamed of you. So maybe it is time to say something. So he informs Lee, and the rest of the over enthusiastic team, that he is, in fact, your boyfriend.

He’s actually so proud of your skills.

He’s not the type to show you off by PDA, but he will smirk and look all smug when somebody compliments you or you do something awesome.

And when the clan’s branch system gets dismantled, eventually he starts figuring your name would sound real nice with Hyuga as a family name.

[fluttershyflores2]

Yei yumei monkie kid oc reference (updated)

The Story of Yumei, ¿the Angel of Ligh?

In the heart of a celestial realm, where light shone eternally and the air vibrated with pure energy, lived an angel of light named Yumei. At a thousand years old, Yumei was young by the standards of her species, but her heart was as ancient as the stars. With long, straight hair of an ethereal pink and his eyes of different colors that reflected the purity of the sky, Yumei was a figure of innocence and kindness.

Despite her angelic appearance, Yumei carried a deep-seated insecurity. She was shy, caring, and empathetic, always willing to help others, though she often felt nervous and embarrassed. But her life took a dark turn when a tragic incident robbed her of nearly half of her right eye. This event not only left a physical scar but also began to consume her internal light.

The wound did not go unnoticed in her community. The angels of light, who lived and thrived on luminous energy, saw Yumei as a threat. The wound started to emit a dark energy that contrasted with the bright purity of her species. Her friends and acquaintances, fearing for their own safety and feeling uncomfortable with her presence, began to distance themselves from her. Yumei, who had always been naive and trusting, found herself alone and abandoned, marked as a "freak" in her own home.

Yumei relied on a special necklace, a luminous jewel that was not only an ornament but a vital barrier that contained the darkness within her. Without this necklace, the darkness would consume her entirely within minutes. Every night, fearing the darkness around her, Yumei used her necklace to illuminate her surroundings, seeking comfort in the remaining light.

As the years passed, Yumei learned to survive in her solitude. Sunlight and campfires provided her with the necessary energy, although the recharge was slow and always insufficient. On rare occasions, she found other angels of light willing to share a wave of light, restoring some of her vitality. But the greatest challenge was avoiding the red crystals that, in her world, voraciously absorbed light, threatening to consume the little energy she had left.

Despite everything, Yumei never lost her ability to adapt. She became an expert at finding sources of light and protecting herself from the darkness. Her empathy and kindness never diminished, although the insecurity and fear of being rejected again were always present. The scar on her right eye continued to drain her energy, but the necklace she wore around her neck kept the darkness at bay, giving her hope and the necessary strength to move forward.

The necklace was a gift from a wise old man in her world (the only one who treated her well), he knew that Yumei was now a source of darkness after the incident in her eye, fearing that that same darkness would drain Yumei's little light, with the help of a master craftsman he creates Yumei's necklace from a stone that gives him light.