#of course has to have Angel telling her that he's hers

[sunniques]

— salacious fixation

cw/tw: hoon is mean and manipulative, yandere themes, daddy kink, size kink, unprotected sex, squirting, creampie, mentions of previous rounds

minors do not interact.

Sunghoon will be the first to admit that he won’t ever fuck the same person more than two times. It’s an unofficial rule he has, and he’s been able to stick by it for so long because he gets bored so easily. He’s never met anyone who’s been able to hold his attention for longer than a week.

This all changes when he meets you.

The moment he saw you taking shots with Jake, he was done for. Sunghoon felt like a creep for watching you all night, but he was physically unable to look away. Everything about you fascinated him. That night, he was only able to exchange a few words with you, but at the very least he was able to learn your name.

Getting to know you isn’t as easy as Sunghoon hoped. For some reason, you kept an annoying amount of distance from him. You always remained polite and cordial—sweet, even. Yet you always pulled away before he could get too close. It drove him insane and made his fixation more intense.

Finally, Jake let it slip one day that you disregarded him so much because one of your friends had a huge crush on him. Apparently you were a girls girl, or whatever. If Sunghoon were anyone else, he might’ve respected that. But he didn’t. At all.

It’s easy to get your friend to invite him over when you just happen to be hanging out with her. Because your friend is so infatuated with him, she’s quick to let him crash what was meant to be a girl’s night. Sunghoon can tell you’re not happy about it, but as always, you play the part of a sweet angel who goes with the flow.

It makes getting you alone that much easier.

“You’re leaving?” You exclaim, feeling your face heat up when you realize how loud your voice got.

“I’m just going to get some drinks,” your friend assured you, not at all concerned that she’s leaving you alone with her very hot crush. “I know you’re shy, but I won’t take a long time.”

You wonder why Sunghoon can’t go with her, or why she won’t let you leave so you don’t have to be a third wheel. Either way, she makes you promise to stay until she comes back, and you foolishly agree. After all, the liquor store is only thirty minutes away, and she assures you that she’ll be back quickly.

It turns out, it only took ten minutes for Sunghoon to have you naked and spread out on your friend’s bed. You feel like such a nasty slut, but somehow that just turns you on more.

According to Sunghoon, everything would’ve been so much easier if you gave into him from the beginning. Of course, it’s way too late for any of that now. He’s going to have to ruin all of your pretty little holes until he gets you out of his system.

At least, that’s what he thinks until he sinks his aching cock into your needy cunt. Once Sunghoon feels how tightly you’re gripping him, he knows he won’t ever be able to get enough. He’s so nasty, and it shouldn’t get you as wet as it does. However, all of your rational thoughts were shoved to the back of your mind after your pussy got creampied.

“F-Fuck!”

Your wanton cry is loud, rivaling the lewd squelching and skin slapping filling the room. Tears of pleasure stream down your face as Sunghoon fucks his huge, girthy cock into your tight pussy. Your mixed releases are pushed out of your cunt with every rough thrust and drip onto your friend’s bed, but her hot crush is far from done with you.

“S-Sunghoon, please!” You beg through your tears. “More!”

“Who?”

He sounds so mean and ravenous, but that only turns you on more. Your pussy tightens around him as you stain his cock with more of your cream. No one has ever fucked you so roughly before, but you love every second of it.

“Daddy, please!” You mewl into the mattress, face burning at the name he insisted you call him. “Fuck me harder!”

Sunghoon smirks as his large hands grip your ass to spread you open for him. You feel so hot and tight around him that he never wants to stop fucking you. After this, he’ll keep using you over and over until you’ve milked every last drop of cum from his balls.

“God, you’re fucking needy,” his grip is bruising. “Bet you love daddy stretching out this tiny little cunt, huh?”

You nod even though it feels like he’s splitting you in half. It hurts so good, and you know that you wouldn’t stop even if your friend were to walk in on you two right at this very second.

“Can’t believe this cute little pussy is taking my cock,” Sunghoon groans as he helps you bounce back on him. “Thought I’d need to train you a little more. Guess you were just desperate for some cock.”

You moan into the sheets, too fucked out to care about anything except the cock drilling into you and the hot guy it’s attached to.

“You’re so pretty, angel,” Sunghoon coos as his heavy balls slap against your pulsing clit. “Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

Sunghoon groans in satisfaction when you squirt all over his cock. He licks his lips as his hips start to snap. You’re a fucked out mess underneath him, trembling on his cock from absolute pleasure.

“That’s it, baby. Get your friend’s sheets all dirty. Filthy fucking girl.”

All you can do is moan like a slut as Sunghoon fuck you like you’re his personal fucktoy. Part of you wants to finish before your friend gets back, but the other part never wants him to stop. Any guilt you felt has melted away. In a way, this was all her fault for not letting you leave when you first wanted to.

“Fuck. I’m gonna cum again,” Sunghoon roughly kneads your ass before he roughly slaps it. You jolt and cry out. “You want that, baby? Want me to fill this tight little cunt?”

“Yes, daddy!” You moan, as you deepen your arch. “Cum in my slutty little pussy. Want it so bad!”

With those needy words, Sunghoon shoots his hot spunk inside you. The loud moans you let out can be heard by your friend as she unlocks the door to her apartment, but Sunghoon only encourages those pretty noises as he fucks his cum deeper into your pussy.

[mirrorcatcreditcard]

I really like all the theories here and mostly agree, but I'd like to raise you another one to add.

Throughout Alien Stage, we've seen the ones in love speak of the one they love as their god or a celestial body. It's pure poetry to speak of how loving someone makes them become so dear and high to you that you, in a way, worship them and would do anything for their happiness and provision, how the greatness of a distant star/sun or planet in space is so grand and admirable.

"Ruler of My Heart" was a song dedicated to Hyun-A. He wants Hyun-A to love him like that. He wants to be her #1 everything because the only form of love/care/protection he knows is control. Multiple times he claims her as his or asks her to be his. That is the society/mentality he grew up with.

Hyun-A means everything to Luka (that or she's second to his perfectionism, which I believe stems from having her slip out of his hands as well as the things she's said to him concerning the love she has of singing, so ultimately she is the everything). Eternally beautiful she is to him. No matter how many years pass, she is the one he holds dearest (and he's been possessive of her for decades). In the song, he speaks of that and more. When he looks into her eyes, he sees the whole world because she is his entire world. He tells her to let him take it all away. He wants to hold her fears and pains and worries, and it comes out as wanting to control it/take it away because that's a very core thing with him. So why, if he wants to be the god and have all the control, does he call her the ruler of his heart? Because everything him revolves around anything he can get of her. (Side note: the second lyrics I can make many theories on, but that's not the point of this reply/the original post so I won't.)

To the aliens he sings before, the song may seem like an elegant proposal that is sure to make a fan base go wild. He is trying to be a god, larger than life as you say, and is confirmed to mask heavily on an almost 24/7 basis. Religious/otherworldly symbolism and he are not lost on me. He's an angel, a "Prince" among humans and loved for the glow he excludes, nobody meant to ever suspect it is all an act.

But Luka is also a blank slate and the tinted glass you speak of. Idols are often used as a projection of someone's desires. You're not far off for pointing it out, and it's a point I don't see very often in the fandom. He is like a filter to see what you want or need to see (which further connects to the savior/god symbolism I've been slavering over for weeks). So pretty and superficial and pleasing...but the tinted glass didn't ask to be this way or choose it's colors. It's like this because that's how the ones around it created it to be said it needed to be. It breaks and becomes nothing more than a splinter hazard when they chose to have it so. Of course it will do its best to glitter and shine bright. Of course it will be the most beautiful glass around. The moment something a prettier color appears, it may be broken/removed and replaced.

A few Luka thoughts because I'm insane

The reason so many characters see their lovers and those they miss in Luka is for two reasons. 1. He tries to be the idol, someone's god, something larger than life outside of the cage for his illusion of freedom. It's all a desperate attempt to conceal the fact he has a god himself and is just as vulnerable as any mortal, as any human who has the potential to feel. (Part of my thoughts on how Ruler of My Heart reflects Luka, which I'll probably reflect on later, albeit it's primarily because of the infamous line "Make me your god--I can give you everything!") The divinity he manifests reminds those of who they worshipped in their tumultuous mind and brings them a feigned promise of salvation.

OR, MORE LIKELY;

2. Luka is a blank slate. He is whatever they tell him to be, he is what he is required to be and nothing more. That's why his aesthetic is merely the picture of elegance and nothing more, just pure white and gold. Blank. Nothing, no emotion, only what you want to see. Just what you wish you see. It's all a game, he does what is needed to survive. While I'm not a believer in the idea that Luka did that weird hallucinations thing in Round 5 on purpose, I'm mostly definitely a believer in the idea that that's just the effect Luka has on people. He's PERFECTION. Perfection how you want it, when you want it.

Luka is like iridescent or tinted glass. The light he projects changes from your perspective, as to what it needs to be to abide by the laws of light and physics. However, it's distinctively a bit different from the light that enters, namely a bit shinier and prettier. But you don't care because it's pretty, after all. But at the end of the day, i's thin glass with only a little change to it. It can be shattered at any moment and can only shine with light. But it's pretty, right?

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Look Alike

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous (x3)

Warnings: eating disorder, mentions of depression, attempted murder, I didn’t copy the episode exactly so probably some mistakes

Synopsis: an angel is going around killing anyone who is suffering—but what happens when it goes after you?

A/N: this one is kinda heavy guys, so if this is a topic that will trigger you PLEASE do not read it. And please remember—I think you’re beautiful, and always remember to eat something, even if it’s just a snack, even if it’s not “good for you”; eating something just because you like how it tastes is better than not eating anything at all. Love you guys!

Your fingers fumbled as they retrieved your picture of Mary Winchester, tattered and faded at the edges. You looked from the picture to your own reflection, your heart plummeting.

Your mother had this…this look about her; she was slender and beautiful, but also strong. Strong enough to be a hunter.

You looked at your own reflection again before ducking your head, tucking Mary’s photo back into your wallet.

“Hey kid.” Dean’s voice in your doorway startled you, and you whipped your head around. “Lunch is ready, let’s go…what are you doing in here?”

“Oh, no-nothing,” you muttered, your hands fidgeting. “I’m not that hungry right now, maybe I’ll get something later.”

“Did you eat breakfast?” Dean asked, his eyes narrowing.

“Um—actually, maybe I will eat now.” you sidestepped his question and his body as you headed for the kitchen. Dean dropped the subject, and you breathed a sigh of relief. You were going to have to be more careful about your eating habits—or lack thereof.

Of course Dean had made burgers again. You looked to Sam, hoping he’d made something else, but he was happily chowing down on a huge hamburger—apparently he didn’t mind them if they didn’t come from greasy diners.

You forced yourself not to huff; it was impossible to pretend to eat a burger, so you’d really have to eat this time.

“Here.” Dean pushed a plate at you, and you took it without protest.

You managed to choke down about two bites before Dean got a phone call. He spoke for a few minutes before hanging up and addressing his younger siblings.

“Cas has a case. I’m gonna go check it out.”

“A case?” You put down your burger. “I’ll go pack.”

“I can take this one alone,” Dean assured you.

“Don’t be stupid, I’m coming.” You started for the door, hoping he wouldn’t argue.

“You’re not gonna finish your food?” Sam asked.

“I had enough,” you assured him, and ran off before he could argue.

…

“So…he exploded.” Dean was staring around at the pink living room, a grimace on his face.

“Yeah. So completely that there’s not a bit of him left that’s bigger than a grain of sand,” a nearby officer said. Once the officer stepped away, Dean spoke to you. “I’m gonna go talk to Cas, see what he can tell me. You should stay at the motel, read up on some things.”

“Ok.” You shrugged. “Call me if you find anything out.”

“Deal.”

…

“Ephraim.”

“Gazuntite.”

“No, Dean. Ephraim was—is—an angel, his job on the battlefield was to end the suffering of dying angels.”

“End the suffering…let me guess, by blowing them up?” Dean said.

“Unfortunately, yes. It seems that he’s continuing his mission on earth.”

“Yeah, but these people aren’t dying, they just had a bad day.”

“Apparently Ephraim can’t tell the difference between emotional suffering and…”

“And dying?” Dean scoffed. “Cas, this is crazy. Everybody has bad days, this guy is gonna end up wiping out the world.”

“It’s more than just bad days,” Castiel argued. “These people were in serious emotional turmoil. But you’re right��you need to find him.”

“You’re not gonna help?” Dean challenged.

“Dean, I’m just human. There’s nothing I can do.”

…

You stared at the takeout container that Dean had got you before dropping you off. You couldn’t refuse, you knew he would start to notice if you refused too many meals, but you still didn’t want it.

Your stomach growled, and you cringed. Maybe part of you wanted it.

You pushed the container away, opting instead to don workout clothes—the motel had a gym. You’d never be able to be a hunter like Mary, you’d never be able to keep up with your brothers, if you didn’t workout more.

After an hour on the treadmill, you decided it was time to get back to work. You didn’t want to leave Dean in the lurch when it came to research, even if he hadn’t told you any more information. He got this way when he took you on hunts—determined to do it all alone, not clueing you in on anything.

It’s because you don’t look like a hunter yet.

You swallowed hard. You may not look like a hunter yet, but you would soon enough. You just had to skip a few more meals, go a few more days, and then—just maybe—you could be a good hunter. You would look like Mary did, strong and in shape, and your brothers would trust you more.

You slipped back into your room, going straight for your bag to get your picture of Mary. You held it up for the millionth time, looking from it to the mirror. Your heart sank—you weren’t Mary; maybe you never would be.

Your stomach growled again, and you huffed.

“No,” you told yourself. Your eyes flickered over to the takeout container. You snatched it off the table and threw it into the trash. “No!”

You couldn’t give up now—who cared if you were hungry? Sam and Dean gave up a lifetime of sleep to keep hunting, you could skip some meals to do the same. You had to.

You hadn’t even noticed that you were crying until a few tears dropped onto Mary’s smiling face in your hands.

“Mom,” you whimpered. “Why can’t I just be like you?”

“I can help you.” The voice behind you startled you, and you dropped Mary’s photo, whirling around and reaching for the gun at your waist and.

“Who are you?” You demanded, raising the weapon.

“That won’t do anything to me,” the man insisted. “And you don’t need it. I’m here to help you. You’re suffering, and I’m here to end it.”

“End it?” You took a step back. “You’re the guy we’re after. You’re the one who killed that man, and that teenager.”

“I ended their suffering,” the man continued, stepping towards you. “And I can end yours.”

“It’s not like that!” The gun was shaking in your hands. You didn’t bother to shoot, knowing it wouldn’t help. “I’m not dying!”

“You are,” he argued. “I can heal your hunger, but I cannot make you eat. But the end I will give you will be painless.”

“What are you?” You demanded, taking another step back. Your back hit the sharp edge of a splintered desk, halting your movements.

“I am an angel. My mission is to end suffering. Let me end yours.”

“An angel, huh.” You put your gun down on the desk as if in defeat. While Ephraim kept his attention on your face, you moved your hand down to the splintered edge of the table and slid it across, drawing blood. Dropping your hand out of sight behind the desk, you began to draw an angel banishing sigil.

Ephraim moved before you could blink, grabbing your wrist and twisting it away from the desk.

“Don’t fight it,” he said. “I can help you.” His free hand was suddenly above you, lowering towards your forehead like death’s scythe.

“Hey!” The grip on you was released at the sound of Dean’s voice in the doorway. “Leave her alone!” Dean had his angel blade out and pointed at Ephraim. “You don’t get to just kill people because they’re hurting.”

“That’s exactly what I was made for,” Ephraim argued. “You didn’t even know she was suffering, but I do! And I can fix it!”

“That’s now how you fix it!” Dean thundered. He lunged forward, stabbing at Ephraim with the blade, but the angel side stepped him and flung him into the wall with a single flick of his wrist. The angel blade clattered to the ground, and you once again found yourself face-to-face with the murderous angel.

“Please,” you pleaded. “Look, I know you think you’re doing good. But humans—they hurt sometimes. But we can do better—I can do better—we’re all just doing the best we can.”

“If this is the best that you can do.” Ephraim shook his head. “Then this is what you need.” He stretched out his hand, and your breath caught in your throat.

You jumped back in surprise when Ephraim’s eyes glowed brightly, his jaw hanging open before he slumped to the ground. Dean stood behind him, a bloody angel blade gripped in his hand.

“That’s not what she needs,” he growled almost to himself. Then his eyes were on you. “Are you ok?”

You nodded shakily, taking a deep breath.

“Ok.” Dean dropped the angel blade. “Now what was that about? Why did he think—“

“I-I don’t know.” You couldn’t meet Dean’s eyes.

“Well what—“ Dean’s voice caught, and you looked up to see him staring at the corner of the room. You followed his gaze, and your stomach dropped. He was staring at the tiny garbage can in the corner, the open and full takeout container fully visible.

“Kid.” Dean swallowed. “When was the last time you ate? And no, that one bite of your burger didn’t count.” Dean’s eyes were on you now, and he petrified you to the spot with his gaze. “I mean when was the last time you really ate?”

“I—um…” your lip quivered and your hands began to fidget. “I’m sorry, Dean.”

“Ok, hey.” Dean pulled you into his arms when you started to cry. “I’ve got you kid.” He pulled away, brushing your tears. “Why are you doing this kid?”

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered, wiping at your face. “Dean—“ your voice caught and you choked on a sob.

“Ok, ok,” Dean soothed. “It’s ok, let’s…let’s go back home, ok? We can talk about it later. Go and wait in the car, I’ll bring the stuff.”

You went to the car without argument, and after you left Dean called Sam.

“Hey,” Dean huffed while he gathered the guns and clothes and tossed them in his bag. “Do you remember the last time you saw Y/N eat? Like, like a full meal.”

“Um…” Sam’s voice came out surprised and hesitant. “No.” Realization hit him. “No, I don��t. Dean, what’s going on?”

“I don’t think she’s eating. Ephraim…Ephraim tried to kill her.”

“I thought you said he only killed people who were…” Sam swallowed. “Who were really broken up, right?”

“Yeah.” Dean stopped packing long enough to clench and unclench his fist. “Yeah. She’s suffering, Sam, and we didn’t even know it. She stopped eating and we didn’t see.”

“Dean…” Dean heard Sam’s deep breath through the phone. “I’m…I’m gonna do some research while you get here. Try and talk to her on the ride home, ok? Maybe…we’ve gotta help her, Dean.”

“I know. We’ll be back in a couple hours.” Dean hung up, taking a deep breath. “Ok,” he said to himself, zipping up his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. He stopped in his tracks when he saw a picture in the middle of the floor. He stooped to pick it up—it was Mary, when she wasn’t much older than you. Dean tucked it into his back pocket. “Ok.”

…

“Hey kid,” Dean greeted as he tossed his bag in the back. Your knees were pulled up to your chest, and you didn’t acknowledge him.

Dean let silence reign as he started up the Impala and headed down the road—he couldn’t force you to talk.

“I just wanted to look like her,” you said suddenly, your head resting against your knees.

Dean turned his head to look at you. “What?”

“Mom. I don’t look like her. She was such a good hunter, and I just wanted to be like that.”

“Kiddo—“ Dean’s voice caught. “Kid, you don’t have to look like her to be a good hunter.”

“But I can’t keep up with you.” You sniffled. “I thought if I looked like her…I could keep up with you.”

“When we were your age, we couldn’t have kept up with us,” Dean argued. “Besides, this isn’t…you don’t become a better hunter by starving yourself, kid.”

Dean watched out of the corner of his eye as your fingers clenched on your jeans, bunching up the fabric before you let it go. When you spoke, your voice was barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know how to stop.”

Dean forced himself to breathe through the pain, taking a moment before offering you a strong smile.

“That’s what we’re here for, kid. Me and Sammy are gonna help you.”

…

“Hey.” Sam’s hug when you stepped into the bunker was surprising and long. You heard Dean’s huff from behind you, but Sam ignored him.

“Hi.” Your greeting was muffled against Sam’s jacket, and he finally pulled away.

“Ok, so um, I’ve been doing some research, so I’ll show you what I got.” Sam reached behind him, picking up printouts from the internet. “I have a list of foods that are supposed to help, and um, I also made up a schedule—that’s supposed to make it easier—and if there’s any specific food you want me to pick up when I go out you can tell me. Or hey, you can just come with me and pick stuff out and—“

“Hey, dude,” Dean cut in with another huff. “I told you not to freak her out about this.”

“I’m not freaking her out!” Sam’s eyes went back to you. “Wait, am I freaking you out?”

“Um…” you picked at your hands. “It…it’s a lot…”

“We’ll start out small,” Dean insisted. “You want some toast?”

“Bread is good,” Sam piped up, holding up one of the research pages.

“Toast sounds good.” Your lips twitched up even as your eyes filled with tears.

“Hey, ok.” Dean’s arms were around you suddenly. “You got this, ok? We’re right here to help you.”

“Ok,” you sniffled.

Dean pulled away. “Ok. Now let’s get you something to eat, and then Sam can freak you out about everything he read.”

Sam opened his mouth, then closed it.

“I think I can do that,” you sniffled.

“I know you can.” Dean grinned. “Oh, hey—“ Dean reached into his back pocket and pulled out your picture of Mary. “This is yours.” You took it with a shaky hand, and when you looked back up Dean was bending down to stare into your eyes. “Hey. You’re just as pretty as mom. And she…she would want you to take care of yourself, ok? And so would dad. And so do we. Kapeesh?”

You threw your arms around Dean.

“Kapeesh,” you told him.

“Ok.” Dean pulled away, reaching up and brushing a stray tear off your face. “Now let’s go get that toast.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz @johannelis2302nely @studiogrimm810

[moinstar]

Lesson 54 spoilers

"...So, tell me. What is it you're plotting, exactly?" Raphael eyed Diavolo with mild irritation in his tone.

He smiles apologetically, caught in an act and felt the need to explain now. "So, you can tell something's up, huh? I was afraid of this."

"It's odd enough that we're the only ones here. And then after we were attacked, your response seemed unusually tepid. There are so many red flags..," the gray-haired angel sighs. "Of course I can tell that something's going on."

Moin speaks up. "I'm guessing that has something to do with me?"

"Yes, it does. Though it's nothing you should feel bad about." Diavolo reassures, though it's not bringing relief to the burgundy-haired human girl.

"This is about your magic power, Moin. And what has been happening to it." Mephisto stresses it strongly.

"Yes, your power has been growing greater by the day. And then there was the incident with the hostile demon in Meowcao. That's when we realized that you weren't in full control of it." Lucifer added.

Simeon nods mildly, carefully regarding Mephisto, Lucifer, and Diavolo's statements. "And when Raphael was attacked earlier, it looked like Moin cast a barrier spell of some sort, but without an incantation. I'm guessing that in the heat of the moment, the spell must have gone off subconsciously."

"What exactly is happening to Moin's powers, we need a definitive answer to that question. Then we can take action if necessary. However, we thought we needed to spend a bit more time observing things from afar." -Diavolo

"Right, our theory was built on too many assumptions. They needed to be verified." -Lucifer

"...So you used the SF as a chance to do that." -Raphael

"That's right." -Diavolo

"Ah, that must be why there was a second preliminary test. You presented everyone with a problem that no ordinary student could solve." -Simeon

"In any case, Lord Diavolo, Lucifer, and I were the only ones to pass the second test." -Mephisto

"So, it worked out exactly as you'd hoped, then." Raphael gapes his mouth a little, coming to a realization. "...Unbelievable. You mean to tell me that the fiery rock that nearly hit Simeon and the beast that attacked us were both YOUR doing?"

"No, that was the work of demons who oppose the royal family. We'd never resort to such cheap tricks." -Mephisto

"However, we knew that if we were to hold the SF finals here, those demons would see it as a good opportunity to strike... That I cannot deny." -Diavolo

"Yes. We did know they were here, and we didn't try to stop them." Lucifer sighs defeatedly. "So in that sense, you might be able to argue that it was "our doing"."

Moin's eyebrows furrowed at this. If Diavolo knew about the opposition, why didn't he do something about it? Why did it have to go as far as almost risking their lives since that incident in Meowcao?

"There are still many lower tier demons who think that harming an exchange student would be a good way to damage Lord Diavolo's reputation. They had no idea they were being lured here, the fools," Mephisto scoffs with a smirk.

"Even so, if you'd only told us this in advance-" Raphael notices Simeon who hasn't been talking for a while now. "...Um, Simeon?"

Simeon smiles. It was that frightening smile back when he used to scold the brothers. "Ah. I see... Thank you for making things so very clear." Everyone except Moin pales at the sight. She knew that Simeon would never direct his anger towards her. "For the sake of argument, I'll overlook the fact that you chose to test Moin's powers. Because I can see how that might be the only way to draw out certain aspects of these powers. Tell me though, why was it necessary to lure the Demon King's enemies into attacking us? What if Moin or Raphael had been hurt? What would you have done then, hmm?"

"It's only thanks to Moin that we're okay. Because she protected us, even though it meant putting herself in harm's way," Raphael added in.

"What's more, I'm a human now: weak and frail. Should I assume none of you cared about what might happen to me?" -Simeon

"I wouldn't call you "weak and frail"..." Lucifer mutters.

"Sorry, did you just say something, Lucifer?" Simeon pointedly smiles at him, daring to continue what he has to say.

"No, nothing."

"I didn't know it was possible to project so much anger while maintaining a smile..." Mephisto whispered to Diavolo as he takes a step closer to him.

"I'm too scared to move a muscle. It's been a long time since anyone's made me feel this way..." -Diavolo

Moin turns to Diavolo with an expressionless gaze. "I'd like you to avoid such methods in the future..., Lord Diavolo." His face immediately shifts to the one who's worried and hurt genuinely, sensing that Moin is indeed mad and felt betrayed at this whole discussion they were having. It's spiraling down rapidly that Diavolo almost forgot to consider her feelings and wanted to comfort her. But as he was about to speak his reassurances once again and offers his hand, Mephisto butts in with a disdainful remark.

"Well, I'd like it if you could learn to control your powers. Then we wouldn't be in this situation."

Something snapped in unison. There was a moment of defeaning silence, as if another wrong answer would cause an explosion, figuratively. Simeon could tell that it was the last straw. The revelation hurt her than they thought it would. And there was another person who wasn't helping the situation get any better. He could feel the gears of emotion running around her head and that she's barely holding to what she might impulsively do: tears, anger, or running away. She really wanted to do those three options but before she could react, Simeon shields Moin from them, hiding her behind his cloak.

"...Lucifer, Diavolo, Mephisto. You need to think about what you've done today."

[liam-summers]

Welcome To The Hellmouth (1.01) | Chosen (22.07)

[batcavescolony]

S5 E1 Supernatural

I SWEAR TO GOD! They need to take shots of holy water everytime they see each other! Bring back Cristo, this is ridiculous. But Meg's back! Bobby, sadly got possessed, but he resisted cus they were gonna make him hurt one of his boys 😭😭😭 John could never. This poor Nick dude is going through it, but he is funny. 'Ok Satan 🙄 tell me to quit drinking before bed' 'if it's all the same to you I'd like to wake up now' 'why the hell would I do something like that'. Dean is the vessel for Michael. All but two Angels are massive dicks. But guess who's back to save the boys? Castiel, being a bad ass and....carving things into the boys ribs.

AHHHHH BOBBY REASSURING SAM THAT IT WAS THE DEMON THAT TOLD HIM TO LOSE HIS NUMBER 😭😭😭 CUS BOBBY BELIEVES FAMILY IS FAMILY NO MATTER WHAT AND IT DON'T END IN BLOOD. But Dean doesn't think he can trust Sam anymore cus he took a demon's side over his brothers 😭😭😭

[phoenixcatch7]

The problem I'm having with one of my stories is that it is compelling - but not clicking.

It's a sephiroth gets reincarnated into mdzs. Straightforward. I've got several branching paths: lwj, jc, nmj (my personal fave) and the jade twins (one mind in two bodies). All five of them have great potential, but for some reason my heart is set on sephiroth!lwj, because the aesthetic is sublime.

But! It's! Not! Working!

My main problems are a) despite similar surfaces, sephiroth has fundamentally different morals and life experiences to lwj and lwjs morals are a huge part of his and wwx's stories. B) I can't NOT have wangxian. I don't ship often at all, but when I do I'm pretty set on it lol. I don't want to deny soulmates. Unfortunately I HATE writing romance. C) I do not think sephiroth should be in any sort of romantic relationship at all nor can I see him wanting one. I've read tons of fics where he is in relationships (healthy or otherwise) and they're amazing, yes, but... Under my pen it's just not in the cards. And I do feel pairing him with wwx would just amplify wwx's worst traits, which is the opposite of what lwj does for him.

Everything's in conflict, but the lure of sephiroths second childhood in strict gusu and his complicated feelings about it, wwx being a perfect mix of all his important people with a spine of steel and righteousness that they all lost as everything fell apart, the relationship between sephiroth and his new mother, and how he'd inexplicably lose her too, the white on white aesthetic, the older identical brother, the cruel angels aesthetic with the benevolent demon, the angst of wwx's defection and death, his relationship with qi as a planet's overflowing life force, the tragedy of the mourning angel, monster x monster.... It calls to me.

But there's also the way wwx becoming a demonic cultivator was so vital to winning the war, and the way that affected things, gave him a legitimacy. Involve the silver soldier, and well. Everything else becomes a little extraneous lol. And sephiroth himself is such a big mover and shaker, I don't know what I could do to manage that without wiping out 80% of the remaining jianghu after the burial mounds siege with sephiroth appointing himself king lmao. He's not the kind of person to make small ripples, you know?

And I'd love a twin jades au to sort of turn the chaos inwards a bit (nmj and jgy would be Excellent foils) but again, I can't separate wangxian and imagining scenes feels a bit too close to incest for my tastes, even when it's ONE PERSON in identical bodies!

It's frustrating, wanting to write a non romance fic set in a love story lol. I just. I hate writing romance. But wangxian just don't want to be parted.

But the image of lwj in the xuanwu cave secretly covering a feverish wwx with his wing, only to notice a handful of white feathers pushing through the black as he unknowingly becomes a better person through showing care for other people, shaking his own deep belief that he is a horrible irredeemable creature incapable of love. Caught in an act of love. Hnggh.

Any ideas?!

[oveliagirlhaditright]

So, in "Tempted Champions" there's this Slayer who was turned vampire. And when Buffy's about to stake her at the end, she asks Buffy to join her.

And she's actually starting to get Buffy to give in, by pointing out the Watcher's Council controls her and stuff, and that she gives up her entire life for them and what does she have to show for it? (The same thing happened to the turned Slayer.)

The Slayer turned vampire then brings up Angel and that really makes Buffy think about it:

At first, Buffy's imagining that maybe she could become a vampire with a soul, because surely Willow could find a way to give her her soul back like she did with Angel. And that really, they could continue on like they are now--fighting evil, but together (and truly together, like being able to make love and whatnot. Because Buffy thinks of how she knows Angel: and if she had to become a vampire to truly be with him, he'd never be able to forgive himself for that. And that would be the one thing that would keep him from achieving perfect happiness and losing his soul again)--but as vampires.

But then she starts wondering if she really wants them to have their souls. And she sort of contradicts her previous thought and thinks that she would be able to make him happy, after all, in order to lose his soul. And this whole thing is crazy, because I never thought Buffy would ever entertain the idea of wanting to be an evil soulless vampire, alongside Angelus.

She doesn't do any of these things, of course, and is able to pull herself from the edge, but damn. I sort of thought all of these things were sort of fanfiction ideas, with maybe the slightest bit of canon hinting at the possibility of it (like when Buffy told Angel that when he kissed her she wanted to die), but apparently not.

Edit: Here's the scene.

[glitterycvm]

MHA BOYS NSFW HEADCANNONS

[•~featuring- AGED UP!! Izuku Midoryia, Katsuki Bakugo, Eijiro Kirishima, Denki Kaminari, Hanta Sero, Hitoshi Shinsou~•]

[•~a/n- haven't written in months!! excuse my writing but im getting back into it!! send requests!!, TY FOR 1K FOLLOWS 🙏🏼~•]

₊˚⊹♡ Izuku Midoryia

-Definitely a closeted pervert. have you seen the way he reacts around other girls?? you can't tell me that he hasn't watched a whole bunch of porn. his mind is definitely filthy and has no limits, very imaginative.

- but he tries his best to hide it, of course. he gets really embarrassed knowing that he's fantasizing about such sexual ideas and how it isn't right, but he can't help it when you wear those low cut shirts that expose your cleavage so well, or whenever your skirt rides up your thighs, showing off so much skin he doesn't even know what to do.

-100% a tits guy. any size is perfect to him, because to him it's not about the size. as long as he can grope and squish them or even seeing your hardened nipples poke through the thin fabric of your shirts. It's just enough to get him going.

-he gets super shy the first couple times you two do fuck. I'm talking constant rambling, the cherry red blushed cheeks and all those whimpers. he really doesn't know how to act. he's been waiting for the moment your soft delicate hands wrap around the base of his cock, or when he could feel your slick walls tighten around his shaft. he's been dreaming of this night for so long, he can't believe it's actually happening.

-he gets fucked out so so quickly. it's already so hard to not just cum as soon as he enter your tight wet walls. so after a couple thrusts he's mumbling about how good you feel and how much he loves you. when he gets closer, his hips buck into yours in an unsteady pace. his thrusts are more shaky and harder as he's whispering both quiet praises and curse. shutting his eyes tightly as he reaches his high, mouth slightly agape too.

-he loves eating. he prefers giving rather than receiving, simply because he'd rather please you. hearing your soft angelic sounds and watching as your face reacts with every little thing he does is already enough to make him cum. like I said, he has watched so much porn, he has analyzed them for moments like this. and he's analyzing you too. taking mini mental notes of what makes your hips shuffle, or what makes your cries go a pitch higher. he's so good at giving head, it makes you question if he even is a virgin anymore.

₊˚⊹♡ Katsuki Bakugo

-a throat fucker. you could start off going slow and taking him in little by little, but every time you end up with mascara smeared all over your eyes, spit mixed with precum dripping down your chin. and your mouth full of his cum. bakugo gets impatient, and needs to feel your throat around his cock. he's thrusting into your mouth like he doesn't care that your sobbing, gagging on his cock so hard your stomach aches, because he knows you like it when he's rough with you.

-he's an ass guy. and back shots with him are like no other. he bends you over his work desk, arms pinned to the middle of your back as hers leading his leaky tip to your entrance, ramming it in. a hand sneaks over to the fat of your ass, grabbing a handful as he waits for you to adjust to his size. after all he isn't that mean to make you feel pain. once you give him the green light, he instantly starts pounding into you, watching the as your plush ass ripples with every thrust. even spanking it a couple times.

-prefers to cum on you. don't get him wrong he loves to cum inside, his ego only grows as he watches his cum drips out your hole. but seeing your face, your gorgeous face decorated with the opaque ribbons of his cum, it feeds the possessive side of him. knowing that you're only his. but cumming on your ass? it's just enough to get fully hard again and ready for round two.

-imagine katsuki having you on your stomach, your upper half being shoved into the mattress by one hand. the other hand gripping onto your mouth. he didn't tell you to be quiet, because he doesn't want you to be. he loves hearing your pleas and mewls but he knows how loud you are. the neighbors would be pissed if they heard you two all night. but you enjoy this moment ever more. the angle he's holding you at makes his angry tip ram into that spongey spot repeatedly. making his attempts to silence you go to waste.

-he gets jealous super easily. especially if he notices you're hanging out with Midoryia more than him. you're his. and only his so why should he have to share someone like you with anybody else? he needs you to understand who you belong to, so jealousy sex is a common thing for you two. he's a lot rougher with you, doesn't show you any mercy. he'll keep edging until he gets tired of it, bring you so close to your high only to pull out last second. he needs to let out his frustration some how.

-his favorite position is definitely doggystyle. like I mentioned he's a big ass guy, but he likes the position mainly because you're at his mercy. he controls the speed, going painfully slow or brain numbingly fast. he craves power and control. a big hair puller too, the position allows him to yank on your hair whenever he wishes too. mainly to make you moan louder, or to bring make you listen to all the humiliating things he has to say about you.

₊˚⊹♡ Eijiro Kirishima

-definitely talks you through it. he is big. and he knows it. so the first time he slides himself in, he's peppering you with many kisses to your forehead. holding your hand and telling you about how well you're taking him. he pushes himself in, slowly snd gently do he doesn't hurt you two much. he would hate to see you cry. just reminding you there's only a little bit more to go, snd when you do take all of him in. he tells you how proud of you he is. he's such a sweet gentleman<3

"c'mon just a couple more, I know you can do it princess..."

"you did it baby, took me so well, you feelin' alright?"

-he loves hand holding. mainly because of the size difference. your hand is so much smaller than his. your palms are gentle and soft, contrasting his own. he fingers curl around yours perfectly, almost like they were meant to be together. but his favorite part is whenever you squeeze his hand. it makes him feel so strong. like you're telling him you feel safe with him, he just loves all the intimacy.

-he's a decent eater, he can get the job done of course. but nothing will ever compare to his fingers. they're long and wide, and at the perfect size to make you see stars. his digits curl just right while they thrust repeatedly. and his thumb is focused on your clit, rubbing smooth tiny circles on the bud. making your back arch and pelvis shake from the pleasure.

-hes such a gentleman, and he prioritizes your pleasure of his. one way he shows you this is by always making sure you cum before him. no matter what the situation is. he could pissed at you, but he'd still make sure that you cream all over his wide fingers before focusing on his own throbbing erection.

-is super big on consent. he does not play around about that. he would never EVER want to hurt you in any way, so he always triple checks to make sure you're okay with everything. always asking before he slips your panties of you, or reminding you that you don't need to force yourself for him. he also does not play about that mumbling stuff. he needs to hear an audible answer from you're lips before he can continue.

"you know better than that baby, c'mon use your words"

₊˚⊹♡ Hanta Sero

-he's such a tease. always leading you on, whether that be the heated make out sessions, or the way he whispers dirty things into your ear in public. he'll even pretend that he didn't just tell you how much he wants to bend you over the restaurant table and fuck you dumb Infront of all the people here. he doesn't actually mean it, it's all just to rile you up for later.

-has a big humiliation kink. it's so selfish but he can't help it. hanta lives to see your cheeks flush a baby pink as you hide your face away from him. he find it's so cute, knowing how easily he can break apart your attitude so quickly. he's always reminding you of how dirty you sound moaning for him like this, or how pathetic you look struggling to take all of him in your mouth.

-a big wrist holder. type of guy to always pin your wrists above your head as his hips buck into you swiftly. you're at his grace and he has all the control right now, which he tease you about of course. you look so desperate and downright helpless being held like this that's he can't help but remind you of it.

-this ties in with humiliation, but he also has a really bad dumbification kink. he wants to fuck you so dumb you won't even be able to straight for the rest of the night. whenever he's thrusting up into you as you run your mouth babbling about how good he's making you feel, hanta just wears the most shit eating grin ever. because everything you're saying doesn't make sense, not even in the slightest but his ego boosts exponentially knowing he can get you in a state like this.

-he loves THIGHS. especially if they have stretch marks or cellulite on them. he finds them so appealing. your thighs looks so soft and plushy, he can't help but just want to lay on them. but his favorite thing about them is whenever he's eating you out and you squeeze them around his head just right. gosh it feels like he's about to suffocate to death, but he wouldn't even be mad about it. he'd let you crush him with your thighs any day of the week.

-if you had one complaint about hanta, it would be about how many hickeys he would leave on you. after every night you'd wake up to finding hickeys all over your body. you see it as mainly annoying yet a little cute, but hanta does it just for both his own pleasure and for his possessiveness. seeing you marked up because of him just turns him on so much especially seeing your inner thighs decorated in the purplish red bruises. everyone knows who gave you all them too, giving him the greedy satisfaction he craves.

₊˚⊹♡ Denki Kaminari

-he is such a pervert. and he doesn't even hide it. now he's not like mineta, he's not going to go around and flirt with every girl he sees and harass them. no, his eyes are only focused on you. and just you. and whatever he does, he always makes sure that you're okay with it of course but that's not stopping him from whispering dirty things in your ears when you're in public. the worst part is, whenever you confront him about it he'll play dumb, acting like nothing ever happened.

-both an ass and tits guy. denki can't just pick one, they're both so hot to him. lowcut and tight shirts have him in a chokehold. he loves the way your boobs are somewhat exposed in low cut shirts, and tight shirts that show you're figure make him feel all mushy. but on top of that, he's a sucker for short miniskirts and short shorts. anything which just reveals your shape just makes him want to act up.

-the biggest tease you'll ever meet. he will mes with you about everything. did you just squirt on him? yeah he's never letting you forget that. oh did you want him to go faster? he'll make sure to go extra slow for you. he does it all just to make you angry (he finds it oddly hot seeing you annoyed) but his favorite part is teasing the tip of his cock into your entrance. no matter how much you beg for him, he'll repeat his painfully annoying little actions. only stopping whenever he feels like you've waited enough. overall he's just so unserious.

-D1 eater. that man knows what he's doing. well scratch that, no he doesn't. he doesn't know what he's doing to be real with you, he's eating mainly for his own selfish pleasure. drool and arousal is all over his chin but he doesn't care, he hasn't had enough yet. his tongue is thrusting into your hold viciously as a finger is rubbing desperate circles on your bud, even sending a couple light zaps to help him stimulate you.

-his favorite position is definitely cowgirl. it's the way you're on full display for him, tits bouncing as you grind yourself on him. he also likes the position because it allows you to have control. denki is a big switch and wouldn't mind you taking the lead for once, and if he needs to he won't hesitate to lift you up by the hips and thrust up into you.

-BIG dumbification kink. for both himself and you. seeing you so cock-drunk turns him on so much, because you look so good. your hair sticking to your sweaty forehead as your eyes are half lidded and hazy. but on the other side, he wants you to the same to him. denki secretly wants you to ride him so well that he short circuits and can't think straight. the effect your wet clammy pussy has on him puts him in a trance.

₊˚⊹♡ Hitoshi Shinsou

-LOVES THIGHS. he is 100% a thigh guy. he doesn't care what you do to him. you could try to crush his head and he'd thank you for it. his favorite part though, is whenever you sit down and your skirt rides up your thighs, exposing so much more. just seeing your bare exposed thighs only makes his thoughts even worse than normal.

-headboard grabber!! he definitely is rough with his thrusts and grips the headboard to steady himself. and he looks so good doing it. imagine hitoshi, all sweaty and looking back down at you with his natural sleepy eyes as you both lose yourself to the overwhelming pleasure. he looks absolutely majestic.

-hes definitely into somno. of course he'd only act on it if he had your consent. but once you gave him the okay, the stars aligned for hitoshi. we all know he's an insomniac and that he usually has trouble sleeping, so it's not unusual to wake up, feeling his girth stretching you out in the middle of the night. he'd try to be super gentle and soft at first so you didn't wake up. but he gets impatient quickly and ends up risking it, usually always waking you up.

-A BIG HAIR PULLER. loves to pull your hair, mainly to force you to keep eye contact with him and so he can you're fucked out expression. and the mewl you let out whenever he tugs on your hair extra harshly makes him want to let loose right there. but he's also a big sucker for getting his own hair pulled too. your soft delicate fingers getting entangled in his dark lavender locks,the sensation is merely indescribable.

-he loves it whenever you praise him. he'll act like he doesn't care about it much, but deep down his heart is pounding rapidly. just hearing how good he's making you feel, especially with your shaky voice. it's such a turn on for him. whenever you praise him about anything he melts, feeling so confident in himself. which only lead him to be even more determined to make each time unforgettable

-face sitting with hitoshi is such an experience. imagine this, you've begged him to let you try it, just so you could understand the hype behind it. and hitoshi agrees, pretending to not be just as excited as you. (he's been dreaming of his head being squished with your thighs). but once you lay your cunt over his face, he gets to work. now im not going to lie, yes not the best eater but this position makes up for everything. this man is eating like he's been starved for months. and don't you dare try to live yourself off him, he's only going to pull you back down.

DO NOT COPY/REPOST MY WORK, I will find u lil bro

[saetoru]

RATE MY PROFESSOR! — GOJO SATORU & GETO SUGURU.

kinktober day one — threesomes ; find masterlist here

synopsis. you’re professor gojo’s TA—the catch? you both are romantically involved. what do you do when professor geto happens to accidentally walk in on you giving a blowjob? let him fuck you so he keeps his mouth shut and doesn’t tell a soul, of course

length. 5.1k words (deep, big, heavy sigh)

contents. minors do not interact, fem! reader, college au, teacher-student relationships, prof! satoru + suguru, TA! reader, power imbalance, age gaps (reader is early twenties and satoru + suguru are early thirties), semi public sex (at campus in satoru’s office), suguru walking in on you and satoru, threesomes, fingering + blowjobs + hair pulling + throat fucking + cum swallowing (satoru), male masturbation + edging (suguru), unprotected sex + (one) clit slap + creampie (suguru), pet names (baby, sweetheart, angel, princess, pretty girl, good girl), not proof read—i am a raw dog kinda gal

notes. i would highly discourage having intimate relations with a professor—but….if your professor looks like gojo or geto, i’m blind babe. i ain’t see nothing. i won’t tell a soul

“you guys wanna get lunch?” nobara hums, “we’re all here.”

megumi, as always, looks like he’s about to say no—he probably wants to go home as quickly as possible. but that’s not an option because before he can, yuji has already piped up with an enthusiastic, “yeah! i’m down.”

you fiddle your fingers nervously—how are you supposed to get out of this one? you’d just used the excuse of grading assignments for satoru yesterday, and surely you couldn’t possibly have a fresh pile of them to grade again within twenty-four hours, right? it’d be a suspicious excuse, especially one for nobara, who seems to sniff out a lie a little too easily. 

it’s not that you don’t want to hang out with your friends, you love them. really. but you promised you’d be in satoru’s office in fifteen minutes—and you’re not about to keep him waiting, so lunch will have to wait for another time.

you’re still thinking of a usable excuse when she turns to you herself, unimpressed as she dryly says, “i assume you have some midterm review to help him polish or something,” she grumbles, “gojo is so lazy,” she scoffs.

oh—well, that wasn’t very hard. she’s just made it ten times easier for you. nobara has handed you the perfect excuse right in the palm of your hand, and before you can even play it off casually, yuji cuts in and distracts her. bless yuji, you think to yourself.

“hey, professor gojo is a great guy! we all passed with an A! isn’t that great?”

“everyone gets an A in his class, dumbass,” megumi grunts, rolling his eyes, “not getting an A in his class practically means you’re deliberately trying to do poorly.”

on campus, professor gojo is a fan favorite—his rate my professor score is a perfect five stars, and most of the students around campus rave about him. why? because he gives out the letter grade A+ like it’s candy. anyone would love a professor like that. 

he doesn’t ever take attendance or knock your grade down when you skip class, his assignments are always easy to google answers to, and the quizzes have unlimited time and attempts. his tests are straightforward enough that even if you never pay attention, doing the review he uploads is sure to help you cram enough to pass. and what’s better? he always adds a generous curve. not only that, but professor gojo is a friendly guy—he loves talking to his students, loves to ramble away if you stop him in the halls or visit during office hours, loves to listen to your stories and nod along in interest, loves to crack jokes and have a good laugh.

everyone loves professor gojo. and when they leave his class with an A+, they love him even more. 

you had an A+ in physics yourself when you took his class—and you hate physics. you hated it in high school, and you hate it now. but for gojo satoru? you’re almost a physics enthusiast. professor gojo—or rather, satoru, as you call him now, takes a liking to you. a very…strong liking, if you will. 

it all starts on a fateful monday afternoon two semesters ago—it’s one thirty pm, the busiest hour on campus. sometimes, it feels like everyone takes classes at one pm—and as such, getting a table in the university coffee shop is almost impossible. you’re just about to give up and leave with your coffee and sandwich after scanning the place when a wave of a hand catches your attention. 

it’s professor gojo. 

need a seat? he asks you, gesturing at the chair in front of him at his table—it’s a smooth, amused little drawl, the way he talks. it’s almost always a borderline teasing tone, and his voice is low enough that it sounds oddly enticing. you’ve heard enough girls lust over his voice in class to know you’re not the only one who sometimes appreciates the sound. 

you try to insist that you wouldn’t want to intrude, but professor gojo is a nice guy; always looks out for his students and helps them out. so, when he insists that he doesn’t mind you taking the spare seat as he grades a few assignments, well…you decide to sheepishly thank him and sit across from him, finally having somewhere to sit and eat before you’re off to your next class. 

and then it begins.

every now and then, you sit across from your physics professor in the crowded coffee shop on campus as you enjoy a cold brew and a sandwich before your next class. somehow, he always manages to snatch a table, and somehow, you always manage to find him. you like to ramble to him sometimes—how professor nanami is a bit too strict for your liking (he giggles at that), how professor ieri always seems too tired and miserable to be here (he nods and agrees), and how professor geto is nice, but he takes literature pretty seriously (he gives you an amused look at that as he hums.)

somewhere along the line, he asks you to be his TA for the following semester—and somewhere further along that line…well, perhaps the one-on-one talks as you sit together at a table for two felt a little too close to something of a romantic setting because you and professor gojo kiss in his office while he calls you in to explain your TA responsibilities. 

that was never supposed to happen. 

you don’t even remember who leaned in first, or whose arms were the first to wrap around the other, or who tugged who closer, but you both kiss. and then some. and then it happens again, and again, and again—and, well…you’re professor gojo’s, or better yet, satoru’s best kept secret.

you go to his office to grade assignments for him—in between if he steals a few kisses, who’s to know? sometimes, he’s a bit riskier, likes to spread his legs and free his cock and have your hand stroke him as he eyes the door. it’s always a nice view to watch him unbutton a few buttons of his shirt and bite back moans. other days, he likes to slip his hand past your waistband and toy with your clit—the amused glint in his eyes, as he tells you not to get distracted and keep grading when you gasp always, earns him a sharp glare.

it’s like that for the semester, just you and him in his little office where you can break the rules in the safety of secrecy. 

that is, until now. 

admittedly, this isn’t the best time to be doing this—professor geto likes to have lunch with satoru around this time, and you know you’re cutting it close…but he just looks so pretty like this, head fallen back against his chair as his lips part with a soft gasp.

you’re on your knees, looking up as you suck on the tip of his stiff cock before taking him down your throat, bobbing your head up and down. it’s a rewarding position to be in—to have the hot, loved, campus favorite professor that everyone thirsts over falling apart in your mouth, hands gripping the arms of his chair as he pants harshly above you.

he looks pretty—always does, always looks good enough that you can feel the ache between your legs get worse. the messy strands of his hair stick to his damp forehead, and his lips are always so pink and plump when he bites them like that, and who can forget the way his eyes turn just a shade darker of that bright blue?

you hum around him, making him groan as he mumbles, “f-fuck, you’re so good, sweetheart—always know how to make me feel good.”

you press a kiss to his tip, smearing the bead of pre cum leaking from his slit along your lips before licking them clean—he closes his eyes and groans at that. you can’t help but giggle, can’t help but press more kisses along his hardened length until you’re at the base of his cock. 

“pretty little lips,” he hums, reaching to rub his thumb over your bottom lip as you open your mouth, letting him slip into your mouth—he hums approvingly as your tongue swirls around the digit, sucking slowly. “‘s like you were made for taking me, huh?”

“‘course i was,” you grin cheekily—and then you’re back to sucking on his cock, tongue rubbing over that thick vein you love to trace and reaching a hand to play with his balls. he moans—it’s low but still whiny enough that you can’t help but feel so proud at how needy he is, how desperately he always wants you. no matter the risk.

except the risk is probably not the wisest one to test today because just as satoru lets out a particularly loud whine when you swallow around him, the door clicks open and…

oh. 

oh no. 

this…this isn’t good—this is terrible, in fact. this is the worst possible outcome to the worst possible thing you’ve done, and now you’re screwed. entirely destroyed, in fact—the both of you. here goes your admission and your progress on your degree, and here goes satoru’s entire career and everything he’s worked for, and all because you couldn’t help but give him a blowjob in the middle of his office with the door unlocked where his best friend can walk right in and get a full view.

and worse? this best friend of his happens to be another professor on campus who you happen to have had just last semester. you’re sure he knows you; you’re his former student, after all, and he must certainly know his best friend’s TA. 

professor geto blinks—his eyes go back and forth between you and satoru and the still-hard cock between his legs that’s glistening with your spit as you sit on your knees. yeah—there’s no explaining this one.

“well,” he says blankly, “i guess that’s on me for not knocking, huh?”

“suguru,” satoru grumbles, “some of us are busy y’know? can’t you come back later?”

you turn to satoru in shock—how can he be so normal about this? how can he just casually act like this is some random hook-up his friend walked in on instead of a (very illegal and very unprofessional) teacher-student relationship that could get the two of you in more trouble than you can comprehend? 

but professor geto doesn’t seem even the slightest bit concerned. there’s no look of disgust or panic or even anger at you and satoru for your unprofessional habits. there’s no alarm at the distasteful activities you’re doing in the middle of a university office where anyone could potentially walk in on. and then there’s satoru—he doesn’t even bother making himself decent or pulling you from your knees.

no, instead, he looks at professor geto in slight irritation as the latter stands there. 

“so this is what you’re always busy doing in your office, huh?” professor geto hums, chuckling in amusement, “i have to say, you at least have good taste, satoru. she’s excellent in and outside the classroom, it seems.”

“yeah, she’s a keeper,” satoru hums, cupping your cheek as he grins down at you, “now if you don’t mind, suguru, we’re in the middle of something.”

“and what do you plan on doing if this gets around?” professor geto raises a brow, unimpressed.

you look at him in panic at that—surely…surely he can’t mean that he would be the one to spread this around, right? surely he wouldn’t throw his best friend under the bus, correct? if not for you, then for satoru’s sake, he’d never let this information find another soul. otherwise…otherwise you’ll both lose everything. all the hard work and progress you’ve made, all of satoru’s experience and years building his career, and all the future opportunities you had coming up—all of it will be for nothing if professor geto says one word. 

people wouldn’t have a hard time believing it either, you think. sometimes your own friends like to poke fun at you themselves. 

you’re always with him, are you sure you’re not in love with the guy at this point? nobara always likes to snort at you.

why does professor gojo even keep you around? you’re too lazy—you must give good head, megumi tends to tease as he raises a brow with amused eyes.

with how often you’re in professor gojo’s room, you might as well have a crush on him, yuji sometimes giggles.

surely, with how often you’re seen in the coffee shop with him as he grades papers and how often he likes to tease you when you show up to his classroom sometimes to drop off papers, students would certainly take the rumors and spread them like wildfire if professor geto says even the littlest thing. 

you look at him with wobbly lips as you whisper, “please don’t tell anyone,” you sniffle, “i…maybe there’s something we can do…to keep you from…”

the two of them look at you in shock—they stare at you for a moment, stare at the crystalline tears welling up in your eyes, at the soft little tremor in your lips, at the sweet little sniffles you try to hide. then, as if in sync, their eyes meet each other’s before finding you once more.

“oh, that’s precious,” professor geto chuckles, “she really is a keeper, satoru—she even looks pretty when she cries. i’m almost jealous.”

“don’t look for too long, suguru,” satoru grumbles—and then, “listen, sweetheart, you don’t have to worry. suguru’s not gonna—”

“well, if there is something you’d wanna do for me,” professor geto cuts satoru off, his voice a low drawl as he walks closer, hand cupping your jaw as he tilts your face up, “i suppose i can keep my mouth shut.”

“anything,” you nod quickly.

you’re so eager to please, he thinks—so perfect and sweet and pliant, that suguru thinks he might actually really be jealous that somehow, it was satoru who caught your attention. how did this all start? when did it start? how long has it been going on? do you have real feelings for each other? or is it just a pleasurable business kind of deal? do you meet up outside of campus? does he take you to the next town over to freely walk around with you on dates? do you kiss sweetly sometimes instead of with hunger? have you ever spent a night in his bed? do you sleep better beside each other, wrapped in the other’s arms?

there are so many, many questions suguru wants to ask. the potential answers to all of them make him a bit more unhappy than he cares to admit. something in him wonders how things might’ve had to play out in order to land you in his office instead—but…but if you’re offering anything, why not take advantage of the offer?

“anything?” he asks, looking at you amused, “you know, princess, anything is a dangerous offer. what if i asked to join? what if i asked to fuck you here in this office so your secret is safe?”

you blink up at him for a moment at his words—they’re a bit shocking. professor geto…doesn’t think this is wrong? clearly, he doesn’t if he’s willing to take part. but that doesn’t sound half bad. not even in the slightest. 

they’re a popular pair: professor gojo and geto are all people on campus ever talk about. those two professors who happen to be best friends. they’re not much older than you either—can’t be past their early thirties, even if they don’t look a day over twenty. 

did you know they used to go to college together? i heard they’ve known each other since high school. apparently, they applied to work here together and only took the offer up once the other agreed. it’s all people ever gossip about when they mention them both. it’s always about how close they are, how deep their bond is, how there is never one without the other. and then, of course, there are those…the less than appropriate comments you occasionally hear the other girls make. i bet professor gojo gives the best head—he’s always sucking on some lollipop. i’d let professor geto do nasty things to me while i read his literature books out loud to him—he’s too fine. i can take both of them—and i don’t mean their classes. 

it’s…not exactly a bad offer that he gives you, you think to yourself. it’s an enticing one, in fact. you get to have them both—professor geto isn’t any less attractive than satoru and…and well, you’d really like for him to keep this a secret, so it’s a bit of a win-win. plus, you’re sure he wouldn’t risk spilling such delicate information when it would put his career at risk, too—it seems like the perfect leverage.

you look at your old literature professor with a nod as you murmur, “then i’d say you should make sure to lock the door this time—we don’t want to make the same mistake twice, do we?”

his eyes sparkle in amusement at that, a low chuckle falling from his pretty lips as he shakes his head at you—you’re even better than he expected. satoru is so, so lucky he’s got to have you to himself all this time. it’s criminally unfair. 

“hey,” satoru pouts from behind, still sitting in his chair and still painfully hard as his throbbing cock sits between his legs unattended. “you both are forgetting about me,” he whines.

professor geto—or rather, suguru, you suppose, only looks at his best friend in amusement. “now, satoru—what have i always told you about sharing? here—” he walks over and pulls satoru to stand before taking the seat himself and patting his thigh as he looks at you with a sly grin, “why don’t i get to feel your pussy, and satoru can have your mouth like before? then we both get what we want.”

“bossy as ever, suguru,” satoru chuckles, but there’s something in his eyes—something darker and more excited than you’ve ever seen them.

“get her ready for me,” suguru hums, fingers making quick work to unbuckle his belt and free his hardened cock. you can’t help but stare, can’t help but watch as he wraps his fist around his hardened length and runs his thumb through his slit with a low moan. 

he’s not as long, but he’s thicker than satoru—you can easily tell he won’t be any easier to take. you watch attentively as he traces the thick vein along the side of his cock with this thumb as he strokes upward, rolling around his tip before stroking down and squeezing at the base. you watch his lips tug between his teeth, a soft moan ripping from his throat as he touches himself in the way he likes best.

you’ll remember what he likes, you think—you can sense this might not be your first and last opportunity to see suguru like this. and next time? well, next time, it’ll be your hand touching his cock and pulling those pretty little sighs and groans from him instead of his own.

“eyes on me, sweetheart,” satoru hums, pulling you to stand before gently guiding your back to fall against his desk, fingers looping into your waistband and pulling your pants down your legs. you can hear the sharp inhale suguru takes as soon as the wetness of your folds is on display, as soon as your puffy clit and dripping pussy are there for him to see so clearly. “watch carefully, suguru,” satoru grins, “she’s pretty when she cums.”

“i can imagine,” suguru muses, “alright then. show me.”

instantly, satoru’s fingers are intruding into your cunt—it’s familiar, the sensation of his digits bullying past your folds and curling against your sweet spot. he’s already knuckles deep, already pressing the tips of his fingers into the back of your walls as far as they’ll go, spreading you open and scissoring you apart. it feels good—it always does, and when his palm rolls across your clit? you can’t help but let out a whiny moan that earns a groan from suguru as he fists his cock tighter. 

“god, she even sounds so pretty,” he pants, watching as satoru’s fingers slip in and out of your pretty cunt, at the way it all but sucks them in itself as it flutters around him. everything about you is perfect—but your face is by far suguru’s favorite. the way it twists with pleasure as satoru slams his fingers against your spot mercilessly with every thrust of his wrist has him fighting off his orgasm—his fist slowing down to a teasing edge as he grunts at the way he lets his pleasure die down for the sake of really feeling you. 

“that feel good, angel?” satoru asks, grinning down at you. 

you nod quickly, head thrown back against the wooden desk as you stutter, “y-yes…s-so good, toru.”

“toru?” suguru asks, “do i get a nickname too? make sure you come up with one for me, yeah?”

it’s almost like you don’t hear him, too busy on the way satoru drags along your walls with every time his fingers sink into you. “toru, toru—s-slow down, ‘m g-gonna…”

“slow down?” satoru gasps—his pace only quickens at that as he gives you a mocking pout, “you want me to slow down, sweetheart? you never ask me to slow down, it’s always faster, toru. faster, please! from you. you don’t wanna give suguru the wrong idea, do you? he’ll think i haven’t taught you how to take it like a good girl.”

suguru snorts at that, slowly dragging his hand up and down his sensitive cock—it’s red at the tip, flushed, and leaky enough that it’s easy to tell he’s aching for release.

“hurry up, satoru,” he grits, biting his lip as he fights back another orgasm and stills his hand, keeping it tightened around the base of his length, “we haven’t got all day.”

“can’t rush making my pretty girl cum, suguru,” satoru gasps, “she deserves the best. look at this pussy—” he gives pulls his fingers out to give your clit attention, rubbing your slick over the sensitive bud as you gasp, writhing over his desk, “—see how perfect it is? you gotta treat it like that too.”

as if from his words alone, as if you get off on the way satoru praises your cunt to his best friend who watches you get stuffed to the brim with his fingers, you whimper before cumming—your pussy fluttering around nothing, walls spasming and dripping with slick as he toys with your clit. 

“toru—toru, ‘m cumming…cumming—oh,” you babble, thighs quivering as his thumb doesn’t let up from your abused clit, watching as your hand reaches for his wrist weakly to halt his movements. “‘s too much,” you sniffle.

“too much?” suguru gasps, “how will you take me, then, princess? don’t tell me you’re tapping out already?”

“nah,” satoru grins, chuckling, “she’s got plenty left in her. she can take it.” with that, he hooks an arm under your waist and helps you sit up, leaning down to kiss you softly as you let out a muffled whine against his lips. “you’re ready for suguru, aren’t you, baby? prepped you nice and good to take him, didn’t i?”

you nod, mumbling a soft, “uh huh,” in agreement.

“that’s my good girl,” he coos, grinning as he presses a wet kiss to your forehead. 

suguru, patient as ever with a stiff, aching cock standing between his muscled thighs, holds an arm out for you as he murmurs, “c’mere then, princess. can’t back out of our deal yet, can you?” you walk over to him on wobbly legs, letting him pull you to sit on his lap, back flush against his chest as his hands guide your hips. he taps the head of his cock against your clit as he lines your entrance up with his length before pulling you to sit, slowly inching you down on him bit by bit as he gasps at the way you squeeze around him instantly. “h-holy—fuck, such a tight fuckin’ pussy. ‘s like i can barely even move,” he grunts, chin resting on your shoulder as he pants.

satoru walks over, staring down at you as you’re seated on suguru’s lap before cupping your cheek and rubbing over the soft skin with his thumb. “you can take both of us, right sweetheart? you’re just too good not to, aren’t ya?”

you nod eagerly, letting the tip of his cock tap against your lip, tongue moving to lick across his slit and make him groan. he’s painfully hard—cock swollen and neglected for so long, you almost forgot that he’s been waiting for your mouth to take him again after being interrupted. your jaw slacks as you let him thrust his hips and fuck his length into you, tip hitting the back of your throat as you choke around him. 

“fuck,” satoru hisses lowly, biting his lip as his hands grab your hair and keep you in place while he ruts into your mouth, “fuck, baby. never get tired of how good this mouth feels—takes me so fuckin’ well. jus’ love feelin’ me down your throat, huh?”

you can’t do anything but let out a muffled cry, feeling the fat tip of suguru’s cock nudge against your sweet spot—it’s just as effortless: the way he finds your most sensitive part. just as effortless as satoru. maybe that’s why they get along so well, maybe they’re connected in that way. 

“oh, princess,” suguru moans, panting against your ear as he lets out a breathy moan, “fuck, that’s good—so, good. can hardly move with the way you’re squeezing me. greedy little pussy, isn’t it?”

you whine as you feel his arm wrap around you, finger rolling over your puffy clit as his hips snap upwards and fuck into you, cock dragging along your walls and stretching you enough that you can hardly think straight. he’s big—it feels like he’s almost splitting you open with his girth as his hips roll up and sink him deeper into your cunt.

“she’s…she’s perfect,” suguru pants, “keepin’ this all to yourself? how selfish of you, satoru.”

“she’s mine,” satoru whines, cock pushing past your lips as he speaks, the way your tongue glides along his vein making his cheeks flush as his eyes flutter shut and his mouth falls open with a breathless moan. “she’s too good to share with you. you d-don’t deserve her.”

“yeah? and you do?” suguru chuckles—it sounds more like a labored pant, his breath harsh as he groans into your neck when you flutter particularly tightly around him, forehead falling to dig into your shoulder, “she’s suckin’ me in. think she wants me. don’t you, pretty girl? you want me to cum inside you, right? make you mine too?”

“y-yes,” you mewl, popping off satoru’s length as you whimper when suguru chuckles and gives your clit a light slap, back arching against him as he pushes his cock past your folds again, “yes, wan’ it. wan’ it so, so bad—need it.”

“see,” he raises a brow towards satoru, “knew it.”

you can see the way satoru’s cock twitches at that—at the way you fall apart on suguru’s lap as the latter digs his head into your shoulder as he breathes harshly, chasing his release desperately as he ruts into your slick pussy. you can see the way satoru’s tip is flushed a harsh red, leaking with pre cum as he aches to spill cum down your throat, so you let him push past your lips once more—but not before giving his tip a delicate kiss. 

“she’s my girl,” satoru grunts, “mine, mine, mine—knows how to make me cum. kn-knows how to take me so good, right baby?”

and as if to answer him, you suck around his tip, swallowing around his length and making him groan as his hips stutter and cum paints your throat white as it fills your mouth. you try to swallow every drop, try to take what he gives you as he fucks into you desperately and chases the pleasure of his high. thick, hot ropes of cum spill from the corners of your lips as satoru fucks his load into you, panting as his hips sloppily roll and work himself through his orgasm.

“that’s right, sweetheart,” he groans lowly, “take it, yeah? god—fuck, feels so good, baby. ‘m c-cumming.”

you make a sound between a choked whine and sharp gasp as suguru’s thumb rubs harshly against your swollen clit, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he groans, hips just as sloppy as satoru’s in his pace that it tells you he’s close too—and then he twitches into your pussy, cock burying into you once, twice, three more times before he groans too.

“gonna cum, princess? ‘cause ‘m gonna fuckin’ cum—fill you up and make you mine. you want that right? want me to—f-fuck, fuck ‘m close, so close,” he cuts himself off with a gasp, letting out a needy whine into your skin before spilling into you. you can feel hot, thick ropes of cum paint your walls as his tip nudges back into you and pushes his load as deep as he can.

and you fall apart too, coming undone a second time as your walls hug around him tightly, head falling back as you mewl a high pitched, “s-sugu—c-can’t…’s too much—”

“you can take it, pretty,” he hums, “know you can. you’re too precious not to, right?”

it’s messy—it’s downright filthy, in fact, the way his cum and your slick mix and drip along your inner thighs, making a mess on satoru’s chair. you pant as your pussy pulses around him before coming down from your high, falling slack in his arms against his chest as he chuckles and presses a kiss to your jaw. 

“fuck,” he breathes, “you’re something else. who’d have thought my favorite little student from a previous semester could do all that?”

“isn’t she a dime?” satoru chuckles proudly, reaching for the corner of your mouth with his thumb, collecting a stray drop of cum and pushing it back past your lips and onto your tongue, humming approvingly as you swallow. “precious, isn’t she?”

“of course,” suguru nods, with a grin, leaning to peck your shoulder, “so, tell me. which professor would you take again?”

satoru purses his lips as he glares. “this isn’t rate my professor, suguru. and don’t get used to thi—”

“well,” you hum, interrupting as you bat your lashes sweetly at both of them, “why i can’t just take both of you again?”

guess who’s posting their october first kinktober fic literally 40 mins before it’s october second ?? if it’s not procrastinated, it’s not reached its full potential

[d3stinyist1red]

Yandere town?? Live convenience store cashier or mall owner or police officer and paramedics or anything both platonic and romantic like the elders try to get reader married to their children etc

YASSS QUEEN 😛😛😛

Yan town who literally is obsessed with everything you do, like u could be drinking water and they'll praise you for drinking it

Yan town who literally has the biggest fanclub of you, they exchange pictures, and items that used to belong to you

Yan convenience store cashier who literally has the sluttiest clothes in his bag just in case you come in

Yan police officer that gets called everytime you try burning the town down, biting his lip while saying "N/n, your being a very naughty girl!~" He playfully slaps,and runs his fingers up and down on your arm.

Yan medic who is lowkey a baddie, litteraly whenever he hears that you have a cut, he puts on the most lil skirt possible, and literally brings out things that nurses would only use if your on fucking life support, acting as if your gonna die just because of a tiny ass cut

yan platonic elderly woman who begs you to marry her son. Her son was very attractive and rich, waving at you shyly as he thinks about the ways you could stroke and suck him off

Yan business man who tries to get you to be his secretary, begging you on his knees and shit. He literally kisses your feet anytime he is in a 5 mile radius of u

Yan farmer who literally is pushing 20 and acting like a middle school boy who barely hit puberty, humping at your shoe and everything. He gives you free fruits tho! Though, he does try to trade with you. Your panties for the fruits of course!

Yan cowboy who let you ride him and save his horse. He literally tells you to get on his horse with him, your in front of him as he guides the horse, his front leaning against your back. He tries to hide his huge boner, and how he's slowly thrusting it against you.

Yan loser who no one likes💀 if ur the angel of the town, he's the devil. He's a total weirdo, whenever he sees you, his hands immediately go for his pants, trying to patt his dick down. "H-hey, do you wa-wanna help me wit-with mini me?"

Yan platonic unc who tries to get you to go on a blind date with his niece. You finally went, and his niece was down bad for u. His niece wouldn't even eat his food, staring at you the whole time with heart eyes, and giggling at you

Yan old man who lets you be his sugar baby. You don't even do anything, all you have to do is sit there and look pretty, and he will give you the money. Very cutesy very demure

[deadghosy]

HEADCANNONS OF HAZBIN HOTEL CREW WITH CATNAP! READER

Prompt: you are a resident in the hotel who makes sure people sleep. No one gets out of your grasp of not sleeping.

Warning: you aren’t an experiment, you died to og catnap’s smoke as you coughed going to hell. Also this might be long based on how your reading speed is.

I headcannon you to always walk around at night around the hotel making sure the hotel cast sleeps as you don’t sleep much either.

“I ensure you my friend I don’t need-" immediately Alastor passes out on the ground as the red smoke exit your mouth as you soullessly stare at the powerful man’s body with your creepy smile.

You don’t give a fuck- you are quite ruthless when putting someone to sleep. You had a smug teeth smile as you dragged Alastor by his leg to his room.

Angel was hiding in the hallway scared as red smoke covers the halls. “Shit…” he says as he eyes your tall figure walkby around the other side of the hall as your red smoke exiting your mouth follows

He was absolutely fucked. Angel tried to turn to run only to bump into purple fur as he holds himself at your chest. He blushes seeing your smug smile down at him.

Before he could protest the red smoke hits his face as your wrap your tail around his waist. How did you get so damn quick beside him?! You put him on your shoulder as you walked to his room to lay him down.

No one knows…..

Now when it’s morning time, you aren’t out as usual. Only at night time as you are use to being up at night helping other sleep. It’s part of your purpose and role as you even have a moon 🌙 pendent on your collar.

Hell, Angel is the most closest to you because he has rough times sleeping after working. He wouldn’t tell you what he does but all you know. He is physically and mentally tired from his job as you hold him in your soft arm as you let out red smoke from your mouth.

Your fur smelling like vanilla and lavender helps him sleep as he cuddles into your soft purple fur as you watch tv with a bored expression. Your ear twitches as Angel snores loudly.

Your red smoke is the only smoke he likes that is red.

Charlie found you at her door of the hotel and questioned you to why you wanted to work here. And what did you say.

“I want to help people sleep…” you said with a raspy deep voice as you smirked at Charlie who seemed a little unsure at your smirk as it seemed full of confidence and sinster. But she liked your determination as she hired you.

Of course I headcannon catnap’s fur and so as yours to smell like lavender to match the soft smell of sleeping to help residents sleep better than they ever have.

I also headcannon you have claws that can be retract like a cat. You usually use your claws/nail to cut something for the crew, or to protect from demons or sinner trying to harm the hazbin hotel.

CREW HEADCANNONS!

I headcannon husk walking to you grumbling drunk as he drops on your body without you even needing to use your smoke on him. Honestly you patted him as you both were cats. You both purr in each other presences. Angel and Charlie recorded the moment to save for their whole life.

I headcannon after Lucifer moved in the hotel. He was definitely scared if you because of your endless wide ass gaping smile. But after you actually showed you can stop smiling like that. He stopped having nightmares of you🦆. Poor little duck man had to hold his covers hearing your big ass steps around the halls.

I headcannon Angel and you sometimes compete trying to see who’s chest fluff is most fluffy.

…and you won💀

Literally what did he think when a 8ft tall cat creature who can make you pass out and hallucinate things have much more softer fur than him.

I headcannon Nifty one time tried to make you take a bath, but dead ass you blow the smoke in her face as she face planted on your paw. You laid her on the couch as you walked upstairs to go to bed on your own.

I headcannon that Charlie sometimes tries to make you sleep with the other residents rather than you forcing others to sleep. It didn’t work out well as you stilled stayed up to knock people out.

Lucifer one time tried to talk to you…but he couldn’t get the hang of you being 8ft tall…it actually intimidated the king of hell himself as he gulps staring up at you. He forced you to get down low like a cat to face him as he pets you.

You purred of course with your usual grin making Lucifer blush as he rubs his face in your fur with a star gazed expression. Literally star in his eyes as he actually fells relaxed by the smell of lavender. 

Alastor hates you sometimes, but he loves how calm and quiet you are despite you knocking his ass flat like a bug getting hit with a fly swatter. But he appreciates how you care for people’s health and sleep schedule.

Pentious absolutely loves you as his egg boiz cuddle up to you if it’s winter. You smile your smug smile as you whistle at the eggs who seem happy to be by you as Pentious also snugs himself in your fur

I kinda imagine when most people see an 8ft tall ass purple cat with white pupils with full black eyes staring at them. They piss their pants running as the whole hazbin crew hugs you admiring how soft your fur is.

Vaggie once seen you use your red smoke on angel, and she was concerned as she literally whipped out her spear at you as you only stared confused with a raised brow. You pushed the spear out of your sight explaining that angel couldn’t sleep and asked you to help.

I can see that vaggie, Alastor, and Lucifer were the last ones to actually trust you before believing you have good intentions to helping people sleep.

The ones to immediately trust you was, Angel dust, a little bit of husk, Charlie immediately with nifty and Pentious behind her.

I headcannon you basically breathing out red smoke on accident once and knocking out the whole hotel cast as you sit there with your ears down ashamed

I image angel dust pulling out one of those cat lasers to tease you. But he didn’t know that husk and you would immediately meow and purr for the laser as both of your eyes dilated. Angel died laughing as he took a picture of you falling on your back trying to grab the laser.

I headcannon vaggie to train you to fight only for you to prove her wrong when she woke up gasping for air to find out you used your smoke on her. She woke 5 hours….yeah she never doubted you ever again

I image when watching a movie with the crew, some of them lean on you like pillow while some just use your tail like a blanket while you snore like an old grandpa.

I headcannon the overlords once had a meeting about you as one of them seen you and mistook you for a new scary overlord. But Lucifer being the silly man he is, showed them a photo of you cuddling up with him on the couch. “Nah, he’s just a big ol cuddly cat..” he says with a snake smile as the overlords look at him like “What..the fuck..”

[hypnos333]

Left her behind

Lucifer x Angel Wife Reader

Synopsis: Lucifer left you behind to rule hell and have lilith so you were behind cleaning up your broken piece

Your wings were bigger than your body but your heart was bigger than your wings. You were an archangel helping your god important plans for mankind. Your husband Lucifer was a Seraphim and you always wonder how you two ever gotten married.

An Archangel and a Seraphim what an unexpected pair, isn’t it?

As you were talking to a human Adam about what god had told you to tell him. A bad feeling was upon you as you excused yourself to go back to heaven to find your husband.

An hour had gone by and you still couldn’t find him til you saw Lilith and you husband kissing. You were shocked and upset until god touched your shoulder ushering back into heaven saying he’ll handle it. Of course you couldn’t question someone you absolutely trust so you flew up with tears hurriedly to go find Gabriel and Michael.

That’s when you found out your husband has been banished with everyone else who betrayed God and heaven.

They were sent to hell as Lucifer as the leader of it and Lilith as queen. You sobbed so loudly make Gabriel hushed you quietly as he sway you left and right to get you to calm yourself.

Michael came back in with some ice cream with a sad smile. “Let forget about your ex husband my little Beauty” And you agreed. That was centuries ago and during that time you found out Lucifer had a daughter which made you completely forget about him focusing about your home more importantly.

Today was your birthday and you had to go to a meeting about the extermination in hell.

Back in hell after getting a meeting to heaven he told his daughter an important story.

“Over a century ago there was these two angels one in a lower class and another in a higher class they loved each nonetheless. Married in heaven but soon the married man became regrettably enchanted with a human bringing her with him to his chaos but leaving his heart where heaven was at” Lucifer explained

“Y-You left your real wife, dad?” She asked him shock and sadness looking at the sky.

“Sadly so, she was supposed to be your mom” He chuckled as tears slipped out his eyes. The amount of times he goes over to see you but you never reciprocate breaks his heart.

He still wears his gold wedding ring from the day he married you and he can never forget that day.

“Don’t worry charlie i’ll win her back no matter the cost and I’ll bring her here to hell for her to rule with me” He reassured her with determination. They both look up to the sky to see a rare white star down at hell.

Alternative ending

Regular ending

[bitchimasnake-sss]

HI SWEETIEEEE, LOVE UR WRITING

Can you PLEAAAAASEEE make reader with breeding kink? Like, how would Sanji, Luff and ussop react to their partner asking for being filled/breed?

Btw, tell me I'm cool for asking without anon or I'll cry.

UR THE COOOOLEST FOR ASKING WITHOUT ANON GIRLY!! i salute your confidence, also ur veryyyy pretty (i stalk you through your window) and also here's the filth you want mwuahh 😚😚

𐙚thinkin' about: the monster trio, ace 'n law! vs breeding kink!

NOT PROOFREAD. JUST PURE HORNY. cw: they all kinda wanna be dads. im sorry. i just wrote it. they wanna be dads now. its cannon. pussydrunk!men. nsfw includes: praise, a lot of overstimulation and talks of "being a dad" and "getting a mini-me", penetration, cunnilingus, loads of creampie [obviously.] and smex. lots of smex. m.list

🍒monkey d. luffy: going insane at the mere idea.

❤️"ngh~ hah again." from the way luffy said it, you're not quite sure whether he was asking or telling. but you weren't sure of a lot of things like where he ended and you began, which round were you on, yada yada. eitherways, you shouldn't worry that pretty little head of yours, not when you're the reason the captain of your ship was panting like this against you. hot huffs clashing against your skin with every strained movement of his hips. all because you had had the audacity to come up to the captain of the ship, pull him by his shirt to your room, strip and tell him to "fill you up." like are you insane?! did you want to kill him?! ❤️you're lucky that your captain has a strong heart, and an even stronger will... because now his hips were bucking into you wildly, hot stings against your thighs where he collided over and over and over again. whispering like a man gone mad, "fill you up, p-please. you wanted th-that right? you want me to fuck you like this? over 'n over 'gain?" and you must have been on a mission from the marines cause you just caught your trembling, bottom lips and hiccupped out a soft, "y-yes, please, cap'n." oh that wretched nick-name, goddamit. ❤️and now he's rutting into you harder, his tongue pushing against yours in such a lewd display of love. when he parted from from you, strings of glistening saliva connected you both. before they dropped downwards, stagnating against his bottom lips. "gonna have a little me runnin' around, i promise." monkey d luffy grinned, so pussy-drunk from the way you were clenching and gnawing at his aching dick. you wanted it just as much as he did, huh? with short, persistent thrusts into your gummy walls, he's cumming inside you once again, "one more time, p-pretty. promise this'll be the last. hah gotta make sure i get it right, y-yeah?" liar. he said that the last three times too.

🍀roronoa zoro: daddy or father? you choose. ps: both.

💚whatever you expected, this was not it. when you had waltzed into zoro's room while he was napping, closed the lock behind you, straddled his hips and huskily beg for him to fill you up, you didn't expect this. you didn't expect the man who was reluctant to even think about a family to prep you for his cock like he wanted a kid right fucking now. 💚you didn't expect the goddamn demon of the sea, former marine-hunter and the current first mate of your crew to caress your cheek so softly, to look you in your eyes with nothing but devotion as he thrusted his fingers into you so mean. "you're serious?" he mumbled against your skin and you nodded, half-delirious from the unfaltering pumps and your crescendo into another orgasm, "ye-yeah, i am, zoro." the swordman grinned, chasing his action with a mean slap to your aching cunt. fuck. and for a moment you saw something inherently holy in his action, "you want me to fill you up? you wanna make me a dad, angel?" "ngh ohmygod—" your eyes rolled back as his nimble fingers messily circle your clit before pinching the nub slowly. his voice husked, "my girl wants me to fuck her till i get a mini-me around?" 💚of course you cannot now blame roronoa zoro for the way he was fucking you without any breaks. not when you were the one who had nodded and assured him that a little him would be soo cute. "me? a dad?" zoro mumbled again. and for someone who only talked in grunt and groans and huffs when he was fucking you like he was going to ruin you, he sure was talking a lot. he repeated, "shit, my girl's gonna make me a dad?" "zoro, no-no more, please—" you pawed at his biceps, trying to pry him off of you. you could practically feel yourself filled to the brim, the milky white pouring out of your so obscenely and collecting at the base of his pretty cock with every little thrust into you. "no, no. no." he almost sounded cocky when he pulled his dick back and used his fingers to stuff them back in, "come on, now. don't waste any." he grinned, feral, "'m gonna be a fucking dad." jesus christ, what kind of demon did you let out tonight?

🫐vinsmoke sanji: living out his dreams (while buried in you).

💙honestly, you must have had courage pouring through you veins to ask sanji to fill you up. him and fatherhood were no joke. vinsmoke sanji had seen you for exactly 1.52 seconds when he realized he would have a family with you immediately, or get rejected over and over till he gets you and then have a family with you. 💙"and th-then i'd get her whatever she wants." sanji rambled on, hips stuck in a periodic rhythm as his tip caught against your g-spot again and again. "s-sanji." you stuttered, trying to throw your head over your shoulders to meet his flushed face. he had held your back flush against his chest, face reddened and lips trembling as he kissed your neck. your heart fluttered at his reaction, "there's- we d-don't have a kid yet... y'know that, right?" because from the way he was planning, it sure seemed like the kid was alive and well in his mind. the blonde nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, his finger slowly thumbing your clit, using your wetness to his leverage to bring yourself to destruction once more, "so, what, love? i'll fuck you till i get it, right?" 💙and who were you to deny him of that when his fingers glided through your folds easily and he rocked his hips gently, trying to coax another orgasm out of your tired bones. his breath was hot against your shoulder, "we're gonna have such a cute kid, r-right, love?" "mhm, w-we will." you nodded, the pit in your stomach tightening cruelly at his candied words. and he smiled against your shoulder, words slurring at the thoughts, "god, she'd be so cute." "sanji," you whined, your voice shaking as he finally pulled himself out. the warm fluid cascaded down your folds and sanji tsked in mock distress, "shh, looks like i gotta do it all over again." don't complain. you're the one who made him this way.

🦋portgas d. ace: don't ask for what you can't handle.

🧡"a-ace." your voice waivered pathetically as his hot breath played against your trembling pussy. his grin was cocky, eyes hidden by his hat as he husked against your wetness, "what?" "s-stop teasing." you tried, only for him to laugh at your pathetic efforts to sound stern. he tipped his face back, eyes glinting with something malignant, "you started it, baby." "i wasn't teasing." 🧡oh so you weren't teasing when you walked into his room, interrupted his paperwork and asked him so, so nicely to fill you up tonight? ace's eyebrows quirked up in part-surprise, part-delight as he slowly kissed your inner thigh. eyes never leaving yours. he smiled all over again, "you want me knock you up? give you my kid? awh, want me to fuck you till i get it right?" oh and the way you averted your eyes, looking oh-so-shy at his question, it had ace wanting to ruin you all over again. 🧡you were spread so deliciously on his bed, your glistening cunt on display just for him to edge you and watch you drip over and over again. the sheets underneath were soiled from your juices, he was sure his crew-mates would tease him to no extent with the way you were screaming his name but none of that mattered. when you writhed against him, your aching hands pushing his pretty face away and pulling him back into you all over again, ace hummed, "what? too much already? but we haven't even started." not when he took his hat off and gave you bestial grin. untamed, animalistic, primal. portgas d ace just made a promise, "when i finally give you what you want, don't you dare run away. or i think we both know how it'll end." it'll end with you stuffed full of him. it'll end with his finger past your pretty lips, with you choking on your own moans and his thick digits as he pumped you full. it'll end with him humming, "running away? no. don't you dare." after all, portgas d. ace never broke a promise.

🪻trafalgar d. water law: doc please don't knock her up.

💜your boyfriend was a doctor. surely, you must have more common sense than to bother him while he was already drowning under paperwork with the ideas of a little you and him running around. surely. "'s a terrible id-idea," he stuttered uncharacteristically as you has fiddled with his shirt, giving him such a sickly sweet smile, "why? you don't wanna?" "no—" his voice faltered as you slowly perched upon his lap and undid his button one by one. "'s just a kid is a huge responsibility, and we're not r-ready," his breath hitched when you kissed his neck. your words stilled against the column of his throat, "pretty please, doc?" it's like you lived to raise his blood pressure. 💜so, now back was was pressed into the cold wood of his table, your knees pulled apart on his broad chest. his dick slipped in and out of you as his tattooed fingers pinched your clit. "l-law, please." your eyes were brimming with tears. aching, fat droplets that fell down as he continued to fuck you on that creaking wooden desk. you babbled as he rut into you harder, flushed tip bumping against your abused g-spot, "'m done, i-i'm sorry ngh, c'mon." "you're hah— crying?" don't let anyone know but maybe law was a bit of a sadist with the way he grinned, "i thought you wanted this?" 💜good point. you were the one who wanted to be pinned down onto that wretched desk and fucked into till you lost the feeling in your legs and your body trembled with every shallow way he drilled into you. so, take it. any faltering whines and moans were pointless. his actions were unhurried, pace rhythmic even as you spasmed around him due to the overstimulation. as your velvety holes gnawed at him, the doctor found himself spilling into you with little to no sanity left in him. "hah fuck—" law breathed heavily, eyes going wide as he pulled out and saw his milky essence dripping out of you so obscenely. his gaze fell upon your flushed face. your eyes were clenched shut, mouth parted in utter bliss. all reason and rhyme left the man as he found himself nudging his tip back into your trembling cunt, "shit. come on, baby. you wanted this." he isn't lying. you did want it.

a/n: first time writing law, lowkey nervous teehee 🤭🤗. i come out of the writers block on and off so im sorry im shit at posting. also i know i wrote ace n law longer okay I KNOW DONT TELL ME SHHH. i just got carried away 👉🏻👈🏻. couldn't write ussop for the life of my but i hope you like it anyways @shinysp4rk mwuah <3 m.list

[coryosbaby]

Mascara || T. Riddle

Fandom: ‘Harry Potter’

Pairing: Young! Tom Riddle x fem! Ravenclaw! Reader

｡.｡ ♡ Content warning . Public sex, praise & degradation, cum play, sub! Reader, dom! Tom

Notes: set in modern day Hogwarts. I never thought i’d want to fuck Voldemort but here we are.

Your feet patter softly against the tile floors of Hogwarts, a book clutched tightly in your arms as you make your way towards the school’s library. It’s a rainy night, incredibly quiet and empty. The other students are at dinner, and you’ve decided to skip out to study for your OWLs. When you open the big wooden doors to the library, the smell of printed ink and old pages invites you further in.

The first thing you notice, when you close the doors behind you and take sight of the room, is that the librarian, Madam Pince, is no where to be found. She must be on her break.

The second thing you notice is the boy sitting in the darkest corner of the room.

You know of the familiar brunette— of course you do. Who wouldn’t? Tom Riddle is a popular slytherin well known for his cunningness, his intelligence, his ability to speak native tongues— and sometimes, his temper. A ravenclaw yourself, you try to steer clear of him. Slytherins usually don’t take politely to anyone outside of their house. Not to mention the fact that you scored the top of your class, with him coming in close second. You suspect that he hates you for that.

He catches your gaze, brown eyes with the resemblance of a serpent. He looks back down at his book, seeming bored.

You let out a breath of air.

You slide your book into the return bin, timidly moving to the shelf about Potions. Snape has been really hassling you lately on your grades, and you really need to turn your B+ into a perfect A. Your fingertips skim over the leathered binds, reading title after title. A voice behind you makes you jump.

“If you’re studying for Snape’s final, I’d recommend ‘Advanced Potion Making’. It will tell you all you need to know.”

His voice is an angelic lilt, though you know that is not in any way what he resembles. The fact that he’s helping you stumps you into utter confusion, and heat creeps up your neck. You nod to him as you begin searching for the book.

To no avail. Your eyes search every bind, every word, but your focus has been diluted because of Tom speaking to you. He sighs, almost annoyed.

He appears beside you, much to your surprise. You nervously bite your lip as he finds the exact book he recommended and pushes it into your hands.

“Chapter nine. I would’ve thought a girl of your ranking in our class would know this already.”

Your brows furrow, embarrassment coursing through you as he sits back down and resumes his tasks. You nervously fumble with the book.

“Thank you.” You reply, because you had been taught proper manners. He scoffs, flicking through the pages of his book. You can’t read the title, though the cover is quite off put ish and dark. Perhaps he had snuck into the restricted section.

“Don’t.”

You frown, though your mind is peaking with curiosity. He seems rude, but he was trying to help you. Maybe there’s something nice under there, after all. Your body is stiff as you sit across from him at the table, silently pleading to God that the boy across from you won’t put a nasty hex on you.

“You don’t have to be rude, you know.”

It slips out of your lips, quiet and unsure. Tom’s eyes narrow at you.

“And as well as that, you don’t have to sit across from me.”

“Perhaps I want to. Perhaps you need a friend.”

“A friend?” He chuckles dryly, his gaze travelling down to your robes. You try to ignore the heat creeping between your legs. “We aren’t going to be friends.”

His insinuation is thick, dangerous. Your heart pounds out of your chest at this unexpected turn of your study hour. You gulp, looking down at the pages.

“Very well then. But since I’ve already sat down, I might as well continue my book here.”

“Or we could continue this conversation in my dorm room.”

He says it smoothly, with no fear or utmost insecurity.

“What?” You blanch, stuttering on your syllables. Tom smirks.

“A smart girl like you, and you can’t even comprehend a single sentence,” he says, his body beginning to move out of his chair. “‘S pathetic, really…”

You breath hitches as his tall form towers over you. Your fingertips grasp the sides of your chair as he leans in close.

“Tom,” you start, warningly. He quirks a brow.

“No?” He questions, and then after a moment, staring into your doe eyes, it dawns on him. His mouth forms into a grin. “Oh, you want it here, don’t you? You want it right here.”

His lips brush just inches over your pouty lips, and you wonder how in the hell you got into this situation and why this slytherin boy is making such a sudden move on you. But knowing Tom, it’s probably out of boredom. Out of the desire for a hook up.

You don’t mind it. Not really, not anymore, because all your protests are ripped away from you when he presses his lips to yours. It’s not tender or sweet, it’s full of sharp teeth and unfiltered lust. His hands rest on your chin, gripping your head so you can’t escape his kiss— can’t escape him.

Your tongue is about to graze his lips when he pulls away. His fingers grasp your shoulder and pull you up to your feet. You stumble, your legs shaky from just a couple of kisses. You gasp when he spins you around and presses your face against one of the nearest bookshelves. His big hands wrap around your wrists and hold them behind your back.

“I don’t want to hear any complaints from you. Do you understand me?” He whispers, his hands reaching down to lift up your robes. “If I do, I’ll leave you here drenched, your clothes gone, with your holes freshly fucked and on display for the entire school to see. Do you understand me?”

You nod instantly. You know that these aren’t empty threats; when Tom says he’s going to do something, he’ll do it.

When he pulls up your robes, taking in the sight of your pretty pink thong, he lets out a sharp breath.

“Prepared, weren’t you?”

You let out a whine, knowing that no, this wasn’t intentional. Tom just caught you on a specific type of day. But looking on it now, maybe the universe was being in your favor when you decided to pick out the flimsy undergarment.

Tom slips the hem of your robes into your hands.

“Hold it.” He commands, and you’re quick to comply.

His hardness presses against you, clothed still but his robes are lifted so he can rut against you in his briefs. It isn’t long before he’s pulling them down past his thighs, his cock sprinting up into the air as he places himself against you once again. You can’t help but drip with need, canting your hips back against him. His cock presses in between the seam of your ass, and you rub against him like a bitch in heat.

And just like a bitch in heat, you purr.

“Tommy..” you let out, and his grip on your hips tighten. “Please?”

He scoffs at the nickname, though his bottom lip is caught roughly between his teeth and he’s trying to contain himself. He wraps his hand around his awaiting length, parts your thighs with the other, and slides his dick up against your throughly aroused pussy.

He’s warm, sticky. You wish you could’ve seen him before this, seen that thing that feels oh so heavy between your legs, but it’ll have to wait. Hopefully, there will be a next time.

When he slides in, it stretches you obscenely. This isn’t your first time, but there’s a burning sensation as he enters you. He’s got the perfect amount of thickness and length to pull a moan deep from your throat.

He doesn’t start slow. His hips smack against yours at a rapid pace, small grunts leaving his silky lips as he uses you like a common whore. Your hands grip your robes and the bookshelf at the same time, trying to keep steady as Tom fills you to the brim. He noses along your jaw and leaves wet, open kisses there. You mewl when he bites down harshly and sucks a mark into your skin.

“Such a tight little cunt you have,” Tom breathes, his fingertips bruising your hips. “Look at you, such a slut for my cock. Does it feel good? Tell me, tell me how it feels.”

Your thighs squeeze him, your mouth gaping open in utter ecstasy. Your words are caught in your throat, but Tom is quick to force them out of you with a spank to your ass. You moan, your forehead pressing against the bookshelf’s wooden edge.

“Yes! Yes, it feels so good…” you slur, entranced by the spice of his cologne and the feeling of his girthy length splitting you open. He grunts, bucking his hips into you with vigor.

“And I bet it’s the best you’ve had, isn’t it? All those other boys can’t do it for you. I’m the only one that fucks you this good.”

It’s true, and when his cockhead hits a spot deep inside you that has you keening, your legs quiver and your brain turns to jelly. Tom’s fingers place themselves around your neck and squeeze so hard that your vision blurs at the edges, and you’re enthralled by the fear that courses through your veins. He’s playing your life in his hands like it’s a shiny new toy.

He fucks you like a madman as you gasp and beg for air. Tears spill out of your eyes, salty and wet and Tom takes notice.

“Crying?” He sneers, pounding you so hard that you’re sure the bookshelf will leave bruises as it presses against you. “You’re pathetic. A pathetic, filthy little girl.”

“Mmmhhh..” you cry out. Your eyes roll back as you utter incoherent sounds. He growls.

“Do you want me to cum inside you?” And then, with a harsh grip on your hair, “I want to hear you say it. Beg me. Beg me to fill you, whore.”

Your eyes shut tight, and your hands clasp around his wrists as he loosens his grip on your throat.

“Please,” your voice is a gasp as you finally get oxygen unto your system. “Please, Tom, f-fill me up. Cum inside me.”

A small, throaty groan escapes his lips, and with one last desperate thrust he’s spilling balls deep inside your drooling cunt. His cum spills over the cusp of your used entrance, and when he’s done fucking it into you he pulls out with a sharp exhale.

You can feel his cum spill out of your raw fucked hole, the creamy fluid dribbling down your thigh and dripping onto the carpet below. Your clit throbs mercilessly, still devoid of any attention, but Tom is quick to put a stop to that. He drops to his knees, then, and it’s a surprising gesture that you didn’t expect. He doesn’t seem like the type to get on his knees for anyone, let alone you. But his tongue lolls out of his mouth as he spreads your knees and catches his cum into his awaiting mouth. He licks up your hole, circling your clit with practiced precision. You let out a guttural sound when you hear the obscene noises of the cum spilling out of you, along with Tom’s mouth slurping at your cunt vigorously. He works at you over and over, and you clench when you feel yourself nearing your high. It’s almost embarrassingly quick, but you’ve been denied so long that you need to do it and you need to do it now.

“I’m going to…” you gasp out, as he rubs circles into your clit. He lets out a loud grunt against you, his mouth working harder. “I’m cumming—god, I’m cumming!”

Your orgasm washes over you, hits you like a tidal wave in the middle of an incredibly large ocean. Tom works his tongue and lets you ride out your high, and he sighs and pulls away from your pussy when you come down.

He’s gathered enough arousal to fill his mouth generously, and he kisses you flat on the lips. His tongue slides against yours and you can taste your shared arousal on him. You whimper, licking desperately at his salty spend, and it’s messy and sloppy and absolutely depraved. His teeth nip at you as you swallow it all down.

You’re dizzy, on shaky legs. You turn around, finally getting to see Tom’s face coated in your slick and his cum. He grins at you, and something twists in your gut so primal you feel you might burst.

“Better get to studying, Miss Y/L/N,” he says. “It’d be a shame if this missed study session made you fail your OWLs.”

[pathologicalreid]

for the fear of falling apart | part two

returning to Everett Lynch's case, you try to redefine normalcy with Spencer and JJ, but Grace Lynch has other plans for you

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | epilogue

series masterlist

who? spencer reid x jareau!reader category: angst, hurt/comfort content warnings: gun violence, spoilers/references to: 9x6 "in the blood", 9x14 "200", 9x23 "angels", 9x24 "demons", 13x22 "believer", 14x1 "300", 14x15 "truth or dare". rewrite of 15x1 "under the skin", 15x2 "awakenings". a lot of dialogue is pulled directly from the show. hospitals/medical information. diana's alzheimers. marriage talk. roslyn's suicide. the parentification of jennifer jareau. mommy AND daddy issues. fear of drowning. word count: 7.48k a/n: it's two days late, but it's three times longer than part one. welcome to the abyss of my brain. it's scary in here.

Your name was being called. First, it felt far away, slowly coming closer and closer, lifting you to the surface as if you were being pulled. The sound was muffled until you broke through the barrier, a female voice clearly called your name, prompting your eyes to fly open, and there you were, sitting up on Penelope’s velvet couch, cocooned in a crocheted blanket with what was sure to be a remarkable bedhead.

Lifting your hand and placing it over your racing heart, you looked up at Penelope, the blue streak that you had redone for her last night prominent against her blonde hair. “Hey,” you said, widening your eyes and letting the blanket fall from your shoulders.

She crooked a brow at you suspiciously. For someone who wasn’t a profiler, she did have a knack for reading people, but you supposed it came with the territory. “My darling girl, you are always more than welcome to sleep on my couch, it’s a wonderful couch, I have spent my fair share of nights sleeping on it,” she rambled, sitting down next to you and taking your hands in hers. “You’re hiding,” she told you softly, “What are you hiding from?”

Penelope reached out to you, sweeping a messy strand of hair behind your ear as her big, brown eyes looked at you sympathetically. The gesture and the way she was speaking to you nearly approached being sisterly. At the idea of developing a supplemental sororal relationship with the technical analyst, you pulled away from her. You shook your head, “I’m not hiding,” you told her simply, leaving her with a half-truth as you stood up and began folding the blanket that had kept you warm overnight.

Nodding incredulously, she looked up at you, “If your Luddite boyfriend is blowing up my phone, then something has to be going on.” Her tone was urgent, but she stayed seated, giving you an advantage.

“Nothing’s wrong, Pen,” you reassured her, shaking your head and shrugging simultaneously.

Her face filled with doubt, glancing over at your cellphone as it buzzed on the coffee table, Spencer’s contact flashing on the touchscreen as you ignored the call. “Why didn’t you tell him you were staying with me last night?”

Pressing your lips in a thin white line, you briefly considered coming clean. You envisioned the truth coming out of you in puddles, everything you had been holding close to your chest for the last month pouring out like alphabet soup, but Penelope didn’t deserve that burden. “I just forgot,” you told her, watching the screen go dark.

Spencer was a worrier by the influence of his environment. Adamantly against getting a new phone, he couldn’t see your location at any given moment. His first course of action was usually calling your sister before resorting to Penelope, who not only has your location on her phone but also has access to your location in the bureau database. It wasn’t a fault of his, members of the BAU did have a tendency to disappear in the dead of the night.

She urged you to call him back as her phone started going off, her shoulders slumping forward, a tell-tale sign that the BAU was being pulled in on a case. If you were lucky, you would be able to slip through the cracks, claiming to put all of your focus into the case so that you didn’t need to have an in-depth conversation with your boyfriend. Or your sister, for that matter.

“Where are we headed?” You asked, rolling up your sleeves and crossing your arms in front of your stomach.

Penelope frowned at the tiny screen in front of her, “Baltimore,” she said hesitantly, “Uh, we gotta go. I’ll drive? You can call Spencer on the way,” she suggested before bolting into the bathroom.

You ended up avoiding the call to Spencer yet again, claiming you’d see him at the office anyway, and instead opening yourself up to a barrage of questions.

Was there cheating? Are you pregnant? Were you pregnant? Did he propose? Did you say no? Did you say yes?

The two of you parted as she went to prepare files and you waltzed into the bullpen, clocking the vase of flowers on your desk immediately. They, of course, weren’t just flowers, but a carefully calculated decision made to try and get into your good graces. This was the fifth vase that had been delivered in the last month.

First, there were honeysuckles, a symbol of devoted affection. Red carnations told you that his heart ached for you. A bouquet of daisies because he truly loved you. Last week, white lilies were left on your desk, a symbol of pure love.

Now, a bunch of apple blossoms sat on your desk, telling you that he preferred you before anyone else. How poignant.

Your eyes burned as you looked around the bullpen, hoping he was around so you could return the flowers to him, but the only people you saw were Emily and Rossi, sequestered in her office in the middle of what seemed to be a tense discussion. Choosing to ignore the flowers, you walked over to your desk, tucking your go-bag underneath and starting to power up your computer.

“Hey, Y/N?” Emily called from her office, “Can you head to the file room and pull everything from the Lynch case?” She didn’t even wait for an answer before closing the door again.

Concerned, you turned around and started making your way to the file room. If Everett Lynch was back, that would explain the worried look on Penelope’s face when the case came in. Even more, that would explain why Emily and Rossi were hidden in her office. Every member of the team wanted to see Lynch locked up for what he’s done, but for Dave it was personal.

Opening the file room, you pulled open the drawer of active cases from the past three months, starting to strip the drawer of anything even remotely related to Everett Lynch. The revelation that Grace was his daughter took everyone by surprise, but Spencer still felt responsible for Luke getting knifed. You should talk to him about it, you thought to yourself, if he didn’t talk about it, he’d just continue to internalize it.

“I need to talk to you,” a voice said suddenly from behind you, jolting you away from your train of thought. Spinning on your heel, you looked at Spencer.

Alarmed, you huffed, “You scared me,” you informed him, clutching the files close to your chest as you studied his stature. He looked fine, his hair was a bit of a mess, but he was wearing the red cardigan that you had gotten him for Christmas last year. You didn’t even want to begin to consider the implications of his outfit choice.

He furrowed his brows at you, “I scared you? You disappeared last night without a word, and I scared you?” There wasn’t even a hint of anger in his voice, instead, his words dripped in sweet melancholy, and you couldn’t look away from him.

You thought about your sister, snatched from the nation’s capital in the middle of the night as vengeance for her work with the CIA. Spencer and Penelope, both taken from what should have been a secure FBI building by a cult that bore a decade-long grudge against the BAU. You had frightened him, probably tripping his overactive mind into believing you were destined to meet a similar fate – dying in a warehouse somewhere. Blinking absently, you shook your head at him, “I’m sorry,” you told him, and you meant it.

“You’re punishing me,” he accused, crossing his arms in front of his chest before quickly dropping them, being hypervigilant about his body language.

Skimming your tongue over the backs of your teeth nervously, you hesitantly met his gaze. He seemed to be convinced that you were punishing him for the events that had taken place last month, but you were inclined to believe that you were punishing yourself, he was caught in your crossfire. “It’s not a punishment, Spence,” you whispered, watching how his brown eyes shone under the fluorescent lights.

His shoulders dropped, disappointment plain on his face, “I missed you at the baby shower,” he confessed.

“Sprinkle,” you corrected.

“Semantics,” he retorted, and it almost brought a smile to your face.

You looked down at the files in your arms, not even realizing that you had been white-knuckling the classified information, “I was there,” you disputed. “I saw you. I brought the gift and put both of our names on it. What more could I have done?”

Rolling his eyes, he gave you a tilted look, “Standing together in the group photo would’ve been nice.”

In response, you straightened up your back, “Ah, you were too busy standing with my sister,” you quipped, bringing the conversation back to the root of the conflict.

“Will you come home tonight? Stay with me?” Your heart clenched at his question.

Hesitantly, you nodded, “I’ll be there,” you assured him, securing the last of the files before sneaking around him, skillfully avoiding the remainder of your team as you made your way to the roundtable room.

“I’m worried about Dave,” you whispered, looking at the other end of the couch at your boyfriend, the two of you dressed in pajamas, your old Georgetown sweatshirt frayed at the cuffs, but it remained your favorite.

The orange print of his Caltech t-shirt was peeling up on the edges, sometimes, at night, you’d pick at the emblem – it drove Spencer crazy, especially when he woke up in a pile of picked vinyl. His mug was carefully resting in his hands as the two of you had a nighttime cup of tea, something you used to do when you had just started dating, and that you decided to try to bring back – chamomile for you, lavender for him. “I talked to him tonight,” he told you, turning to face you, “He’s.. he’ll be fine. He has Krystall.”

And I have you, you thought to yourself, lifting your mug to your lips and taking a sip. Sometimes you felt special for getting this side of Spencer, the ratty college t-shirt and flannel pajama pants that he wore while lounging on the worn leather couch.

“Do you want to go to sleep?” He asked when you didn’t respond, leaning forward and setting his mug on the coffee table.

Shaking your head, you followed suit, setting your mug on a coaster next to his before crawling closer to him on the couch, taking him by surprise. “Not yet,” you whispered, sitting down next to him, relieved when he responded by putting an arm around you. “I’m not mad at you,” you told him, “I just needed time.”

His arm was warm and familiar over your shoulders, having the same effect as a weighted blanket, calming you down with a simple touch. “To think,” he said, “you keep saying that. Are you… do you need more time?”

You closed your eyes, leaning into him, “I don’t think so, but I’m,” you faltered, frowning, “I’m having a hard time talking to my sister.” It wasn’t a secret that there had been some sort of falling out between the Jareau sisters, but the reasoning behind the rift remained a mystery to most people.

“I am too,” he admitted, skimming his fingertips up and down your arm. “I keep recalling everything that happened, and I don’t fully understand how everything got so messed up.

Raising your eyebrows, you remained in the crook of his arm, “People say a lot of things with a gun to their head.”

What you hadn’t considered was that following her admission, your sister would avoid Spencer. When you decided to avoid both of them, you had no idea what you were taking from him. “What would your truth have been?”

“I’m afraid that everything surrounding me is destined to fall apart,” you admitted. “I was brought into my family in an attempt to rescue my parents’ marriage, but it didn’t work.” Your sister slit her wrists open when you were only four years old, but somehow your father had put her death on your shoulders. JJ left home as soon as she could, leaving you at twelve years old with your grief-stricken mother, who had spent the last several decades waiting for the day her daughters would all be reunited.

Spencer was quiet for a while before responding to you, “We should go to bed.”

He was probably right, the team was expected to be in early tomorrow morning. After leaving well past dark, the last thing you wanted to think about was going back in before the sun had a chance to rise. “Wait,” you said, “What’s your truth?”

Briefly, his eyes flickered, looking down the length of your body, “My truth is that I’m tired, we should go to sleep,” he told you, herding you toward your shared bedroom.

“Same time tomorrow?” You asked, walking through the bedroom and into the ensuite, grabbing your toothbrush off the counter.

Nodding, he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to your temple, “I’ll be there.”

Maybe you should’ve taken it as a sign that you were unphased by the revelation of a crazy doctor with a fetish for skinning people. The world had strange ways of telling you that you needed to take a step back, for every sign you had been given, you took a step forward. That was how you ended up in the backseat of an SUV with your sister at the wheel and Spencer in the passenger seat.

Everett Lynch had invaded the BAU’s territory, coming in like an infestation in the district, and he was trying to break his daughter Grace out of jail. You heard through the phone that they were scrambling tactics, using the walkie-talkies in the U.S. Attorney building to prevent their own capture.

The car came to a screeching halt, and the three of you piled out, “There’s no time,” your sister said, looking around, “We’ll cover this one,” she informed Spencer, looking back at you as you adjusted the strap of your Kevlar.

“I’ll take the garage on Piedmont and 10th,” Spencer responded dutifully, nodding at the both of you before turning around and running to the parking garage two blocks over.

You and your sister started to make your way into the larger of the two parking garages, both of you pulling your firearms and pointing them down, keeping yourselves aware of your surroundings. There was movement in front of you, two bodies moving toward a white van with federal plates – the Lynch’s. “Everett Lynch,” you called out, “Drop your weapon and put your hands up, now!”

The man in front of you – the so-called Chameleon – scoffed in disbelief, “Take it easy. There’s no reason to gun down a daddy in front of his little girl, right?” You kept your Glock aimed at him, watching intently as he carefully set his gun on the ground. Sirens started going off in your head, a premonition of things to come.

“Alright,” JJ shouted, “Kick it over. Grace, you too. Drop your backpack and let me see your hands. Come on, now!”

Putting her hands up, Grace let her backpack fall to the ground in a heap of fabric, you kept your gun trained on them as JJ lunged to the side, reaching over to pick up Everett’s gun from the ground. “Grace!” You shouted, watching the girl bring her hands down as she reached for something, “Put your hands back up!”

It was a split-second decision, but you watched as Grace lifted that gun in her hands, and you jumped. You knocked your sister over as three shots rang through the air, the first one grazed her arm. The next two lodged themselves in your side as the two of you fell to the ground, your body rolling along the ground as the father-daughter duo loaded themselves in the van before driving off.

JJ grabbed her weapon and shot after them, hoping to blow out one of their tires or at the very least slow them down, but with only one good arm, her aim was off. She scrambled to her feet, “Come on, Y/N,” she huffed, not checking behind her before running out of the parking garage.

You wanted nothing more than to follow her. Being angry wasn’t worth it anymore, you couldn’t freeze out your older sister anymore. You tried to breathe, you tried to call after her, but when you opened your mouth, the only thing that came out was blood.

For your entire life, you had followed her. When asked what you wanted to be when you grew up, you’d tell them you wanted to be like your big sister. You wanted to follow her, but you couldn’t move.

You followed her from East Allegheny to Washington D.C. You had followed her into this very parking garage. Now, all you could think about was following Roslyn, bleeding out on the cold hard floor, alone.

“Y/N, what’s your location?” Spencer’s voice rang through your radio.

You had never been shot before. You had always thought it would be cold to be shot, but instead, your whole body felt like it had been set on fire.

“Y/N, do you copy?”

The wetness of the blood should have made it cold.

“Y/N?”

Your fire was slowly fading, the blaze that had gone up so quickly began to ebb as you stopped feeling anything at all. The tapping of shoes echoed through the parking garage as you lay on the cement.

“No,” that all too familiar voice said, “Y/N is down, she’s been hit. We need an ambulance now,” Spencer called into the radio, he was out of breath as he looked down at you.

He studied your appearance, clocking the entry wounds on your side and moving his fingers in an attempt to staunch the bleeding. An odd, choked noise escaped your throat as the pressure on your side stoked the fire.

Spencer’s fingers trembled even as he maintained pressure on your side, “I know, I’m sorry, I know it hurts.” He took a deep breath, “here, turn- turn your head,” he instructed gently, using his free hand to coax your face to the side. You choked and came to the horrifying realization that he was trying to stop you from aspirating on your own blood. “Get it all out, baby,” he cajoled as blood spurted from your mouth, “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

That would have to be enough. It wasn’t enough for you to hope anymore. You had spent so long with the Anger and Resentment from your Pandora’s Box that you completely failed to notice how Hope had slipped through the cracks, lost in a sea of emotions.

“Do you hear that? That’s the ambulance,” he told you, an unspoken plea in his voice.

But you couldn’t hear the sirens, pretty soon, you couldn’t hear anything at all.

The EMTs had all kinds of things to say, none of them were even remotely comforting. The bullets had entered through the thin opening of your Kevlar, a sort of Achilles heel where you couldn’t be protected. He should have double-checked, he should have paused to adjust the straps before running to the other parking garage.

He watched the doctors shock you in the emergency room, looking on in horror as your heart stopped beating. “Are you her husband?” One of the nurses had asked.

Spencer’s mouth had gone completely dry, “I’m- almost,” he answered, earning a sympathetic look from the nurse as she proceeded to ask him questions about next of kin and extraordinary measures. One of the bullets had pierced your lungs, causing catastrophic bleeding.

The nurse guided him to a surgical waiting room, but no one came out to him with updates, leaving him to sit. Someone brought his go-bag by, letting him change into clothes that weren’t blood-soaked.

He sat in a pile of limbs on the hospital’s couch, picking at the crusted blood that he hadn’t quite managed to wash off, and he wondered if he could ask one of the nurses for a surgical scrub brush, wondering if that would get the last flecks of blood from the ridges of his fingernails.

“Spencer,” JJ called out, rushing through the hallway, Will trailing close behind her.

Her arm was wrapped with gauze, probably stitched up before someone told her what had happened to her little sister. “Hey,” Spencer said, standing up as they approached, wiping his clammy hands on his slacks.

JJ held her hands out, “What have you heard? Anything?”

“It’s gonna be a while,” he said, repeating the only words that he had been told. They had taken you to the OR an hour ago, and all they had to do was wait it out.

The clinical white walls of the hospital were enough to make Spencer stir crazy, when Will offered to get him a cup of coffee, he was almost aggressive in his rejection. The sunlight reflected off the drywall as your surgery continued to test his patience.

Eventually, your mother called JJ back, and your sister walked away in order to explain the situation under the guise of privacy, leaving Spencer alone. “Dr. Reid?” Someone said, maintaining the reverent tones of the hospital that were beginning to make him want to pull his hair out.

“Yes,” he said, standing up in front of the nurse.

The nurse gave him a gentle smile, and he braced himself for the worst. “Ms. Jareau is out of surgery,” she informed him.

You had been in there for nearly six hours. “She…” he faltered, “Can I see her?” He asked, looking past the nurse as if he could see all the way into your recovery room from where he stood.

Nodding, the nurse continued to smile at him, “I can take you to her now if you’d like. She’s still under sedation,” she advised, gesturing for Spencer to follow her through the winding hallways of the hospital.

“Is she going to be okay?” He asked, checking to make sure he had his phone in his pocket so he could text JJ if he needed to.

The nurse’s smile tightened, “We won’t be able to know if she’s sustained any neurological damage until she wakes up.”

He frowned slightly, bracing himself for an answer that he wouldn’t like, “Could she hear me if I talk to her?” He asked, stopping in his tracks as the nurse stopped outside of a room – your room.

“It’s unlikely,” the nurse answered.

That made sense to him, there weren’t any studies that could prove that people could hear external stimuli while comatose. At least, there wasn’t enough for the medical community to reach a consensus. “Thank you,” Spencer said, nodding at the nurse as she turned away, letting him know that the doctor would be by to talk to him soon.

Your skin was pallid, a sickly sheen covering your skin as tubes and wires worked together to monitor you and keep your body going. Spencer set your patient bag in the corner of the room before dragging a chair over to your bedside, cringing at the sound the chair made against the linoleum before taking a seat next to you.

The steady beeping of your heart monitor quickly became the only thing preventing him from falling apart entirely. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, keeping his voice down so that no one else would hear him. “I keep going over it in my head and I don’t know how I didn’t realize you were missing sooner,” he spoke to your silent body, chest rising and falling with even breaths. “I’m so sorry,” he echoed, “You should’ve… you should’ve been my priority. Before Grace. Before Lynch. Before any of it.”

He inhaled shakily, glancing over at your vital monitor, taking comfort in the consistency of the numbers, “I should’ve put you first and now I- I can’t take it back,” he said, eyes burning with emotion. “I know things between the two of us have been kind of weird lately… ever since the pawn shop, I mean. I just,” he paused for a moment, giving himself grace, “I don’t know what to do with it. I don’t know if she meant it and if she did, what does that mean? When you didn’t bring it up after the wedding I didn’t either because I just didn’t know how to talk to you about it.”

Somewhere along the way, the two of you had gotten lost. In the midst of not talking about the pawn shop, you had stopped talking altogether. “Now, all of a sudden, none of it even matters. All that matters is that I need you to wake up because I need to have more time with you,” he sniffled, the first hot tears rolling down his cheeks. “I can’t imagine my life without you in it,” he whispered.

“Please don’t leave me,” he begged, thinking of all of those nights the two of you had stayed up talking about the future. Your dream wedding. Your children’s names. He needed it. More of it. More of you.

Mindful of you, he laid his arms on the armrest of your hospital bed, lowering his head and watching the consistent rise and fall of your chest, listening to the whistling of your nostrils as he waited for the doctor to come.

The doctor seemed confident that you would wake up, it was just a question of when. He sent JJ, who had gone home to change into fresh clothing, an update once the doctor left.

Every once in a while, your nose would twitch or your finger would tap on the hospital bedding, and he would allow himself to get his hopes up. It never lasted long, once the fluke ended, he went back to thinking about the situation realistically. You were still having blood transfused, there was a tube in your chest depositing fluids into a bag at your bedside, and even if you did wake up, there was a long road to recovery with an injury like this.

He was terrified that you’d wake up alone and in excruciating pain, so he refused to move, having any paperwork brought directly to him in your room. Nearly every fifteen minutes, he smoothed out the blanket that rested on top of you, careful when putting his hands near your body, even though you couldn’t tell whether or not your blanket was wrinkled. Spencer thought of it as tucking you in, keeping you safe, but he couldn’t help but wonder if it was too little too late.

You didn’t make it to the beach as often as you’d like. Spencer hated the beach, and you weren’t interested in swimming in the ocean so much as you wanted to go and people-watch. Families on vacation. Marriage proposals.

The first time you had ever gone to the ocean, you were three years old. JJ and Roslyn hadn’t been in years, but it was all new to you. JJ wanted to bring you to the water, and Roslyn hadn’t even wanted to go on the trip. The water hadn’t scared you then, the endless abyss of blue had seemed more inviting than anything you had ever seen before.

Now, you lay on the sand, all of it cold beneath your skin, the rest of the beach seemingly abandoned. Try as you might, you couldn’t move anything. You wanted to lift your arm to brush hair out of your face. You wanted to sit up. You wanted to go home.

You couldn’t even see the water from where you lay, you opened your mouth, hoping to call for help, but were surprised when the only thing that came out of your mouth was a dark, black sludge. It spurted from your mouth as it ran down your cheeks, staining the white sand of the beach beneath you. You were drowning on dry land, and there was nothing you could do.

Nothing but open your eyes.

The ominous white sky of the beach turned into white walls, as you fluttered your eyes open, the ocean made way for you, parting so that you could return to yourself. Laid in a hospital bed, trying to remember how to breathe, and meeting Spencer’s stare.

“Hi love,” he whispered, gently placing one hand on top of yours, drawing circles on the back of your hand with the pad of his thumb, careful not to knock your pulse oximeter off.

Your brows pinched together as you looked over at him, he looked tired, waiting for you to say something. Your chest felt tight as you looked at him, hundreds of thoughts bubbling to the surface, but only one bubble popped, “I had a nightmare.”

Spencer nodded slowly, messy curls falling over his forehead, “It’s okay, angel. You’re awake now. It can’t hurt you.”

It can’t hurt you. It can’t hurt you. It can’t hurt you.

You watched as Spencer reached over and pushed the call button on your bed. Each moment you spent awake became increasingly painful, signified by the slow rise of your heart rate, the pain only exacerbated when your breathing quickened. Alarm grew, “Shh, hey,” Spencer consoled you, reaching his hand out and smoothing your hair back, looking to the door and hoping someone would come in and help you.

They did, pushing pain medications through your IV and watching your heart rate stabilize before giving you something to help you calm down. Spencer probably knew what they all were, making mental notes to keep track of everything as he kept his hand in yours. Your pain level dwindled from a nine to a six, leveling out in the middle ground.

You settled back into the pillows, cringing as a nurse moved your bed so that you were sitting up slightly, nodding softly at the things that she told you about rest. She checked your vitals, before leaving the two of you alone, silence swirling around the two of you as you constructed a bubble to keep yourselves warm.

“I should’ve found you sooner,” he whispered, looking over at you, a distressed look in his eyes.

Moving at a turtle’s pace, you shook your head, “You saved my life.”

It’s okay. I’ve got you, he had told you in the parking garage, and he did. He still had you, even now. If they had let him, Spencer might’ve waited for you outside the operating room, just to be in the vicinity of you.

“Don’t go anywhere,” you murmured, eyes opening and closing slowly. Your eyelids felt sticky like there was still tape residue on them from your operation, but you didn’t dare move. You didn’t dare agitate any wound on your body. “Is JJ okay?” You asked, your voice tight. Checking in on your sister took all of your strength.

Spencer kept his hand in yours, moving his free hand to wipe at tears that had spilled over your lower lashline. “She’s fine, just a graze,” he reassured you, “I’ll call her when you go back to sleep.”

You swallowed thickly, wondering if you were allowed to have any water, “I missed you,” you breathed, fighting to keep your eyes open. “I wanna talk to you,” you sniffled.

“You should sleep, my sweet girl,” he answered, not wanting you to get into a hefty conversation in your condition. “We have all the time in the world to talk when you wake up.”

Except you didn’t. You had thought there was time for you to be angry, but then you had been shot. As much as you hated the idea of being someone who had a near-death experience and suddenly let bygones be bygones, alienating those close to you seemed exhausting. You took a deep breath, thankful for the nasal cannula on your face, “I’ve been so distant,” you admitted.

Spencer hesitated, not sure if you needed to get into this while so vulnerable, “I don’t know if she meant it,” he breathed.

“I don’t need to know,” you told him, surprising yourself as much as him with your admission. “JJ is… She’s one of the most important people in my life, but so are you. Maybe even more so.”

He frowned, “You can’t possibly mean that.”

You closed your eyes for a few seconds before opening them again, “JJ’s my sister, we share the same family, but I chose you, Spence. I will continue to do so,” you told him, deciding against adding until the day that I die. Watching him as he looked at you with tear-filled eyes, “Oh,” you sighed, “please don’t cry. I never meant to hurt you.”

Waving off your concern, he wiped at his eyes before taking one of your hands in both of his, “I love you so much, but I don’t want you to forget your anger.”

“Huh?” You hummed groggily.

“You’ve been mad for months,” he whispered, the strokes of his thumb on the back of your hand putting you to sleep. “It doesn’t need to fade away in the blink of an eye.”

You let your eyes slip shut once again, “I’ll still give you a hard time.”

He laughed slightly at that, “Good.”

“Spence?” You breathed.

“Yeah, baby?”

Humming, you settled back into the bed, “I don’t think I’ll be able to make our tea date tonight.”

When you woke up again, a familiar blonde was sitting at the foot of your bed, hunched in a plastic hospital chair while Spencer remained at your bedside, hands still intertwined, but sweaty now. “Jennifer,” he said, getting the attention of your sister.

She jumped up from the chair and sat on the edge of your bed, in your periphery, you saw Spencer retreat, ambling into the hallway to talk to Emily. Letting him go, you turned your attention to your sister, “Hey, Jayg,” you greeted, words coming easier now than they did before, the swelling of your throat had gone down.

Her finely chiseled eyebrows pinched together on her face, “I thought you were right behind me,” she admitted miserably, looking at your torso.

“It’s alright now, though,” you tried to reassure her. You had lost half of your blood volume, much of it on the parking garage floor, but you were here now, that had to mean something.

She shook her head in abject self-disappointment, “I should have protected you,” she insisted, scrunching up her nose as she fought back tears.

You were too tired to fight emotions, water falling from your tear ducts as the two of you tried to mend what had previously been torn apart. “You don’t need to protect me,” you insisted. The decision to take the hit had been entirely your own, driven by a need to protect her.

“I always have though,” she reminded you, “When Roz died, dad left, and mom checked out, I took care of you.”

When you were a child, you thought that having your pre-teen sister do everything for you was the way things worked. It didn’t last long, things unraveled from there, but you always had JJ. “I’m all grown up now,” you reminded her. You didn’t need her protection in your early thirties in the same way you needed them as a child.

JJ took a shaky breath, cupping your cheek with her hand affectionately, the way a mother would to their child, “You’re always going to be my little sister.”

You looked at her, seven years your senior, and you sighed, “Do you know why I did it?” You asked her, studying the sad look in her eyes.

She smoothed your hair back, grabbed a cup of water from your bedside, and brought the straw to your lips, “Why, Ducky?”

The childhood nickname chimed in your ears, one of the only things that you retained from your eldest sister. You smiled at her, “Your boys.” The answer came easily to you, “You have Will and your tiny people, and I just thought… I couldn’t let you leave them.”

“But I almost lost you,” she countered, it wasn’t aggressive, it was almost like she was trying to make you see the value in your own life. The people in your life didn’t make you valuable, you had value as an individual.

Shrugging, you looked at her sympathetically, “Nope,” you said, popping the ‘p’, “You’re stuck with me.”

She gave you a sisterly, knowing look, “Your heart stopped. Twice.”

You concurred, “Yeah, because you’re just that stuck with me.” You insisted, watching as Spencer answered a phone call in the hallway. “Did you call them?” You asked her, giving her a quick glance as you craned your neck to keep an eye on your boyfriend.

“Mom’s on a flight in tomorrow morning, but dad hasn’t responded to my voicemail,” she informed you, she didn’t look surprised, and you didn’t feel it.

Where your father was concerned, some things were better left unsaid, but you wouldn’t necessarily mind if he never responded to your sister’s calls. There was no reason to drag him and his new wife from their cushy life in Florida. Spencer reentered the room as JJ’s phone started ringing – Will – and the two of them traded off, amicably splitting time with you.

Greeting him with a content smile on your face, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your hairline, “I have to go,” he told you reluctantly.

You tried not to let any disappointment show on your face, “Why? What’s wrong?” You asked, studying his face for any sign of what his phone call had been about.

“That was Brookfield on the phone,” Spencer said, checking all of the monitors that surrounded you.

The grim look on his face made sense to you. Moving his mother into Brookfield had been the right choice for everyone, but her condition was never going to get better. Last time he had gone to visit, Diana hadn’t even recognized him, and you spent the rest of the day holding him, letting him know it was alright. “You have to go,” you echoed his earlier sentiment, nodding reassuringly.

He hesitated to leave you, sitting on the edge of your bed that had been previously occupied by your sister, “But you- you’re…”

You shook your head in dismissal, “Sometimes everything happens all at once, but you have to go.” If Brookfield was telling him to get down there, then he needed to go.

The next several hours passed slowly, Emily gave you an update on the case – the reader’s digest version, avoiding any gnarly details in an attempt to protect you. Will brought you and JJ dinner, eating the meal with them and your nephews, you were grateful to not have to eat the hospital cafeteria food. Slowly, the day came to an end, you sent JJ home when visiting hours ended, letting her know that you didn’t need to be protected while you were in a hospital.

You fell asleep not long after one of your nurses lowered the volume on your vital monitor, the dark peace of the hospital lulling you into a sense of safety. There hadn’t been word from Spencer, and you worried about him and his mother.

A tapping sound dragged you from what was thankfully a dreamless sleep, you recognized the sound of the footsteps, those shoes made a similar sound on the hardwood floor of your apartment, “You’re noisy when you wear your fancy shoes,” you mumbled drowsily, opening your tired eyes and tilting your head in the direction of the sound.

“Hey,” Spencer whispered, “Go back to sleep,” he told you gently, slowly making his way around your hospital bed and to the fold-out chair next to your bed.

You hummed, following him with your eyes as they adjusted in the dark, “No, you woke me up. Now you have to talk to me,” you told him, reaching over to switch on a lamp, cringing at the way the light burned your eyes.

Unprompted, he inspected your vital monitor before reaching out to adjust your nasal cannula, “Where’s JJ?” He asked, cupping your cheek affectionately before taking his seat.

Reaching out for your cup of water, you smiled to yourself when Spencer moved it closer to you, “I made her go home. Our mom will be here in the morning, and she’ll need all the rest she can get.” There was also the fact that Michael had been freaked out by seeing you in a hospital, so he needed some extra love from his parents tonight. “Wait,” you said, “How did you get in here? Visiting hours are over.”

“I might have told a small lie about you needing security,” he admitted sheepishly, but beneath it, he was smug. You didn’t fault him on it, you probably wanted him here just as much as he wanted to be here, if not more.

Smiling in the dim lamplight, you inclined your head toward him, “Did you misrepresent the bureau?”

He rolled his eyes, “I’d do it again if it meant I get to spend the night with you.” Helping you put your water cup back on your tray, Spencer took your hand in his, “How are you doing?”

You were exhausted, not in the sense that you wanted to sleep, although that probably couldn’t hurt, but in the sense that your entire body ached. There was a pinch in your side that wouldn’t ease up, and you didn’t feel comfortable with asking for more pain medication. Part of you was afraid that in the process of being shot, you developed a fear of drowning. You almost died today. Huge strides had been made in an attempt to repair your relationship with Spencer and with your sister. None of these thoughts escaped your lips, you just looked at him sympathetically, “How’s your mom?”

All he gave you was a tight smile, squeezing your hand tightly, “She’s ah… she’s alright,” he told you, your chest tightening at the emotion in his voice. “They’re calling it an awakening,” he continued, sounding unsure of himself.

“Terminal lucidity,” you breathed, a term you had only read about briefly when Diana was first diagnosed. The two of you had made many cross-country calls, trading information while Spencer stayed with her in Las Vegas.

He nodded, “Yeah… they don’t know how long it…”

How long she had left. How long she would remain lucid. “Are you okay?”

“No,” he answered quickly, too quickly for your liking.

You wiggled your fingers in his hand, getting his attention, “I want you to go back tomorrow,” you ordered him. It wasn’t something you were willing to budge on, insisting that he go back to Brookfield tomorrow to spend more time with his mother.

“She asked about you,” he admitted, leaning back in the chair, keeping your hands intertwined, “She wondered why we never got married. I told her it was never the right time. Do you know what she said to that?”

Watching intently as he shared the story with you, you shook your head, “What did she say?”

He chuckled lightly, “She said that might’ve been the most ridiculous thing she’s ever heard me say.”

You smiled as he recounted the story for you, mimicking the hand gestures that you were sure his mother had used. “Obviously she’s never seen your Dirty Harry impression,” you reminded him, trying not to giggle at the memory.

“The right time will never come if we keep waiting around for it,” he told you, reciting the words of wisdom that his mother had imparted upon him.

Your breathing hitched in the dark of the night, “Spence?”

He nodded, “Yeah, baby?”

“Are you going to ask me to marry you?” You asked him hesitantly, wondering if that was what he was getting at.

Spencer shook his head, “Not tonight, angel.” He looked around the hospital room, cards and balloons and flowers had made their way in through the afternoon and evening. Penelope had even brought your apple blossoms from your desk. His flower language seemed so inconsequential now. “Go to sleep,” he whispered, “I’m sorry for waking you.”

“Will you tell me a story?” You whispered, settling yourself back into the flat hospital pillows, resigning yourself to the end of the marriage conversation.

He hummed, dimming the lamplight, “Which one?” There were a few stories that he had memorized specifically for you. When work or life or nightmares got to be too much, he would recall them for you.

“Can we do Portrait of a Lady again?” You raised your eyebrows, smiling impishly.

He rolled his eyes sardonically, “Your love for Henry James should be studied in a lab.”

You waved him off, “Okay, and? It’s story time.”

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