#this is the best holiday humans have ever come up with

[louderfade]

march 3rd is girls' day 🌸

[batshit-auspol]

have we talked about the woolworths debacle yet?

Sigh.

Alright kids strap in, because the culture wars are back and stupider than ever.

So there are two characters you need to be familiar with in this story before we continue:

Woolies (i.e. Woolworths) - One of two supermarket chains in Australia. Not related to the giant Woolworths chain that used to exist overseas, other than the Aussie one swiped the name because the original forgot to trademark the name 'Woolworths' here. Biggest company in Aus, and also the biggest employer. Not a brand anyone with more than two braincells would pick a fight with.

Peter Dutton - Man with less than two braincells, and current leader of the political opposition in Australia. Best known for bearing a passing resemblance to a potato and once demanding that a homophobic song get played for balance when a football halftime show performed 'Same Love'. His reputation is so bad that if you told an Australian that Dutton's favorite pastime was drowning puppies, they probably would believe you.

And to prove our point, here's the best headline a friendly newspaper could come up with to try spin his image:

The third thing you need to know is that in Australia we have a national holiday called "Australia Day" which is basically a scheduled day for everyone to get into a giant argument.

This is because for the last 30ish years it has been held on the anniversary of the British claiming the land around Sydney as a colony which was:

a) More the founding of an English prison then the founding of Australia, and more importantly

b) from the perspective of the people who were already living here, kindof a very shit day

Now not everyone agrees on this, and even those that don't 'celebrate' will often still have a get together with friends, but it can't be denied that we've shifted a long way from the days when the country used to celebrate Australia Day by kitting ourselves out in Aussie flag budgie smugglers, drinking enough beer to drown Harold Holt, and partying like it's 1789.

(Now a brief break for a real photo of Peter Dutton at a press conference)

Good luck sleeping tonight. Anyway back to the story.

As a result of this shift away from the trend of showing your patriotism by wearing Australian flag underpants, this year Woolworths decided that they were no longer going to be rolling out their box of southern cross thongs - on the grounds that "this kitschy shit never sells" and they are far too busy with more important things like blaming price gouging on inflation and installing self-checkout machines that think your canvas bag is a crime against humanity.

Never a man to miss an opportunity to act like a massive twat, upon hearing that Woolies had dumped their flag merch, Peter Dutton rushed onto the airwaves to declare that Woolworths had "gone woke" (paging 4chan circa 2009) and called for the country to boycott the store, a story which Australia's media have gleefully put on loudhale for over a week now in order to drive outrage clicks.

We at this point remind you that Woolworths is a company which, as we previously mentioned, basically has a monopoly on selling food in this country. Not exactly something you can boycott.

(Another real Dutton photo break)

Needless to say Dutton's dumbass plan did not immediately put Woolies out of business, however the relentless media campaign by Rupert Murdoch's minions did result in a bunch of innocent low-wage floor staff being harrassed by The Dark Lord's fanboys and a few Woolies stores were graffitied.

Allegedly being the 'free market' guy, Dutton also kindof snookered himself by demanding the free market not decide the fate of Australia day, but logic was never one of his strong suits.

Anyway, in the end we're just going to keep having this dumb circular argument every year, fulled by a media who love fanning the flames, until a politician has the guts to shift the date to May 8 (pronounced m8), and everyone promptly forgets this was ever a thing.

All in all, that's the long and the short of it. As a final touch we'll leave you with this real tweet by Opposition Leader Peter Dutton, in all its batshit glory.

We look forward to the absolute dumpster fire of comments this post is going to generate - as is the Australia Day tradition.

[charliemwrites]

Bark, bark, snort, grrr

(The ex idea comes from @st-el-la-luna, absolutely brilliant darling ❤️)

Content: Voyeurism, Mild Injury, Possessive/Protective Behavior

Johnny, for all his quirks and… weirdly human tendencies, is an incredibly good sport. Particularly about letting you put him in Santa hats and wreaths, ugly sweaters and snow socks. He poses for every picture so dutifully, looks so serious and annoyed up until you plant smooches on his head or cheek and that silly lupine grin comes out.

He’s been your perfect little heater ever since the heater started to go on the fritz. It keeps shutting off or turning itself lower than it’s meant to be, leaving you shivering before you realize something is amiss. It’s not so broken that you’re willing to interrupt your solitude to have someone come fix it. But you’re grateful for a big fluffy body laying on your feet or snuggling under the blankets with you.

As the winter sets in, you tromp out with him in the snow a lot. Often use his sturdy shoulders and better footing as a crutch to navigate without slipping. He always gets fussy when you do, dancing in his feet and snuffling at your coat, urging you up.

One morning you wake up after a fresh snow, expecting that you’ll have to clear the driveway and porch - only to find it freshly shoveled and salted. It would spook you, except you’re sure Johnny would have woken you up barking his head off if it was anything to worry about.

Your mother calls about holiday plans in mid-November. You hedge around any commitments, hand buried in Johnny’s fur, saying that you don’t want to leave your precious pup at home.

The combined efforts of both your parents, your sister, and a cousin you actually like makes you cave eventually though. They promise it’ll just be family, that you can even bring Johnny. You grimace at that - debate getting him some meds from the vet…. But he’s been doing better on walks in town.

The weird assurance that it’ll “just be family” should have been a red flag.

When you arrive at your parents’ place, several gift bags and Johnny (with a bow tie on his collar) in tow, you find your ex there. On the couch. Next to your least-favorite cousin and your sister.

“What’s he doing here?” you ask sharply.

“Well, you two were engaged—”

Johnny’s ears shoot straight up as you tense.

“Yeah, and then he cheated.”

“People make mistakes. If you would just hear him out.”

“I don’t care what he has to say. And I don’t care what you have to say either.”

You drop the bags in a heap and click your tongue for Johnny. He falls in with you instantly, leaning up against your side. You get all the way to your car before you hear your ex’s voice calling your name.

You try to hurry, but there’s ice and the last thing your dignity can take is slipping right now. Luckily, you have the perfect deterrent before you ex can even get within arm’s reach.

Johnny snarls, so deep and loud you feel it in your own chest.

“Jesus!” your ex cries, coming up short. “Where did you get that thing?!”

“Johnny picked me. More than I can say for you.”

“Don’t be like that, I’m picking you now.”

“Oh, did your girl best friend lose all her daddy’s money?”

His cheeks light up neon. Huh. Got it in one.

Then he dares another step and Johnny lunges. You just get a hold of his harness but it’s enough ward your ex off a bit more.

“He’s very loyal,” you add. “Also more than I can say for you.”

“Baby, just listen—”

“An upgrade all around, I think.”

You round your car, climb into the driver’s seat with Johnny standing guard, then let him clamber over you into the passenger’s seat. At the front door, most of your family is gathered and staring. You flip off your ex one last time before peeling out of there.

The tears come after you’ve gotten back home. Johnny licks your face until you stop crying, then leads you inside. The two of you curl up on the couch together, his face buried in your stomach. You fall asleep there and dream of a man’s voice whispering love and comfort in your ear.

—

A week later, your ex shows up.

You’re out in the yard with Johnny, watching him zoom through the snow and laughing as he speeds by. Your ex must hear you because he comes round the side of the house.

And Johnny. Goes. Ballistic.

Literally, he hits your ex like a missile, taking him into the snow and snarling like something from hell. He’s got his teeth in your ex’s designer coat, ripping it to shreds. It’s frightening; you’ve never felt safer.

“Johnny!” you call. A growl. You walk closer, kick a bit of snow at both of them. “Johnny, down! Leave it!”

And he does, finally does, though not without taking a good chunk of fabric with him. Your ex, wide-eyed and pale, panting, doesn’t bother to say a word. He scrambles away while Johnny barks after him, all canine and spit.

You hum as he returns to you, fabric in his mouth, tail wagging.

“What a good boy,” you coo, taking the partial sleeve and inspecting it. Louis Vuitton, it looks like. “Very good. My perfect boy.”

You drop his prize into the snow and snort as he wastes no time peeing on it. Well, that’s gonna stay there. Forever.

“C’mon bud, you deserve a treat.”

Johnny follows you happily inside, a new pep in his step.

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Masterlist

[alessiamalfoyzabini]

Howl at Midnight

Pairing | werewolf!Jimin x human!Reader

Word Count | 7.5k

Warnings | +18, angst, smut, halloween theme, an apparently abandoned castle (don't trespass on other people's property 🤧), mentions of a pact made with the city's residents, poison, MC doesn't really have much choice 💀, forced nudity, dark themes and also yandere (?), underneath MC finds the situation exciting, bites and marks, sink the canines and drink blood, PWP, oral sex, pussy worship, dubcon, begging, virginity loss, unprotected sex (use protection!), vaginal sex, big dick, knotting, MC abandons herself to her fate (I think Jimin's supernatural nature contributes in MC's choices), eat cum, this is not for minors.

This fanfiction is dark and yandere, if you don't like the genre, don't read and if you are not of age, don't read.

I don't want to hear any complaints in the comments, thank you.

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | You always thought you lived in a quiet, small town. You never imagined that the locals would be able to keep such a secret for centuries, you fell into their trap… But it doesn't seem so bad.

➢ Author's Note | Hi, guys!!! 🥹

My best friend and I challenged each other to write a Halloween-themed story using the following keywords: werewolf - halloween - virginity - castle - poison.

I don't know why I came up with such a story, it was supposed to be something simple but my dark side took over WAY too much 💀

Anyway my best friend liked the story and suggested that I publish it, so here it is, I already apologize for any mistakes and for the plot which is not who knows what 🥺

Howl at Midnight was written for recreation, but I still hope you enjoy it ❤️

PS: I really didn't know how to classify this story, when in doubt I put the warning “yandere,” since there are behaviors that go a little beyond 😵‍💫

Permanent Taglist | @katherine-kookie, @btsuga-d, @reallygenerouskoala, @takemeaway5402, @velvet-stardust2002, @jimincrystal, @ke1k029, @kylafox09, @pantara, @themwordsblog, @angelicsmilesworld

It's a rather dark night, you think, as the flickering lights of street lamps barely illuminate your path. You and some of your friends have decided to spend Halloween night roaming the more desolate streets of your small town, rather than attend the party of the school's homecoming queen, the most popular and at the same time most hated girl ever by you and your friends, a common ground that has certainly welded your friendship.

You are reminded of the afternoon you spent at Glenn's house deciding how you would spend Halloween night; Glenn's initiative had been rather unique, since he was not a fan of that holiday.

“It will be fun, everything is so scary at night, we might even meet a real vampire! I mean, not like Edward Cullen, I mean one who doesn't sparkle-” but Glenn's excited monologue had been badly interrupted by his girlfriend, Claire, who had hit him over the head with a book, and who knows why, said book was actually titled Twilight. You remember giggling, willingly accepting that idea, but now...

“We were simply supposed to go for a walk, Glenn,” you mutter ruefully, looking around, “Do you want to tell me where you're taking us?”

The red-haired boy snorts again, settling into his vampire costume bought at a thrift store stall, “Come on Y/N, what would life be without a little thrill?”

Claire, for her part, nods in turn with a euphoric smile, as if she knows something you don't, prancing merrily dressed as a red devil among black lace decorations and lace.

“Life would be as it has always been, wonderful,” you blurt out nervously, freezing suddenly.

The asphalt has run out and the streetlights have stopped dimly illuminating the entire street, you are at the edge of the most talked about lands in your town. When and how exactly did you get there?

“Here we are, my girls,” you hear Glenn say, satisfied with his feat.

“What are we doing here?” you swallow, far from cheerful.

Answering you is Claire, “It's an abandoned castle and this is Halloween night, what do you say?”

You grit your teeth, shaking your head, “You're crazy, I'm not going in there!” you take a step back, your heart stirring, but Glenn stops you in a single moment.

“Where do you think you're going? I promised your brother I'd keep an eye on you,” he tells you sternly, and you know he's right, you can't just leave on your own, the streets are empty but it would still be dangerous.

“Don't you want to see what it's really like inside, aren't you the least bit curious?”

Short answer? No.

More articulate answer? Fuck no.

“Come on, don't be a wimp now!”

You snort, casting a glance at the castle in question.

It is as large as it is gloomy; the older inhabitants of the town have always spoken of the presence of various monsters within it, which is why the lands surrounding the castle are so large, preventing the actual growth of the otherwise large and well-populated town. Some of the land had been ceded to keep the monsters quiet.

That's some bullshit. And you're certainly not a wimp.

What will you find in there, maybe overgrown spiders? You shake your head, certainly nothing up to the Acromantulae seen in Harry Potter.

“I'm not afraid,” you limit yourself to saying, Glenn and Claire seem satisfied with your answer as they begin to step over half of the downed iron bars surrounding the gates of the immense building. It bothers you that they haven't bothered beyond you, but it's Halloween night; you can't really spoil their fun.

You hold on tightly to one of the rusty old iron bars, lift one leg trying not to fall off because of the bulky skirt of your witch costume, and end up straight on the ground covered with dry mud and grass, thank the heavens that it hasn't rained in the last few days, otherwise goodbye costume, although more like an elegant medieval dress and nothing more than that.

“Guys, wait for me!” you exclaim as you turn toward them, but you find yourself rolling your eyes.

The darkness is almost completely pitch black, only the moon high in the sky gives you some brightness in that open space surrounded by green trees and uncultivated grass. Your friends are not there.

“Please tell me this is a joke, please,” you growl, turning only a few seconds to climb over the railing, “Glenn? Claire?”

A shiver of unease snakes down your spine, as if someone - or something - is watching you. But you immediately banish the absurd thought. The Halloween atmosphere always makes everything quite scary; your friends chose that place for that very reason.

Imagining that you simply find them in front of the castle's entrance, you also wander down the path that actually looks like anything else by now. You will meet each other there.

The wind blows without worrying about your bare shoulders because of the dress's boat neckline; the cape had long since been taken away along the way. You bought it in an antique store and the elderly man seemed quite eager to get rid of it. He even gave you a discount.

The sound of falling leaves under the force of the draught is quite terrifying, especially now that you've discovered you can't use your cell phone. There is absolutely no service there, and isn't that how the best horror movies begin?

A frustrated groan leaves your throat, you don't have to think about it.

“Glenn?” you try to call out once more, but along the path echoes the hoots of an owl that is probably scrutinizing you with condescension, wondering why a silly girl like you is wandering around in such a desolate, godforsaken place.

When you arrive at the gates of the castle, you find yourself admiring the extraordinary Gothic architecture of the huge, ancient building made of stone and marble. The fact that it has survived over the centuries without any kind of restoration is a testament to the good materials that were used.

One by one, you walk down the stone steps, sudden thunder jolts you violently, and with fear in your veins you throw yourself toward the immense reinforced door, finding it ajar, a sign that Glenn and Claire must have already entered. You ignore the hint of annoyance, since they could at least wait for you, you must escape the sudden storm.

Wordlessly you notice the large, thick black clouds enveloping the sky, obscuring even the immense full moon.

You carefully close the ancient gateway, looking around the thick-walled atrium decorated with paintings that are surely worth more than your current home, not to mention the carpet you are walking on, though a bit worn, is definitely from the time of the castle's founding. You wonder which lord lived there and whether it can be traced in the history books.

“Claire?” you whisper, afraid of disturbing someone, but who exactly?

Sighing wearily, you really have no time or inclination to play along with your friends, you rest your hand on the wrought-iron railing of the staircase, beginning to climb so that you can find those two idiots as soon as possible and get home safely.

They say 'God makes them and then matches them up,' right? You mentally growl, well, you would’ve just wiped them out instead.

Between corridors that are not real corridors but dead ends, some narrow and some exaggeratedly large, you finally find the wing reserved for rooms, hating the enormity of that place.

“Hey, you ... are you here?” you ask, slowly opening a bedroom door with one eye closed and one only slightly open, fearing to find the two lovebirds doing strange things in the leto of an abandoned castle, because they would be perfectly capable of it.

But what you find is just a lavishly decorated bedroom absolutely empty of any other life forms but you.

“This is definitely a joke,” you chuckle mirthlessly, clutch your arms to your chest, and continue that unwelcome tour of yours, continuing to open rooms at random, with no more expectation of finding anyone in them, until you come to a rather large bedroom.

Quite different from the others, which up to that point had been yes, beautiful, but empty, lacking a soul.

This one was immense just like the castle itself, yet warm, thanks to the burning fireplace. The four-poster bed was adorned with red silk sheets, as were the velvet curtains tied to the solid wooden columns, on the walls finely decorated with gold paint were hung medieval tapestries, depicting hunting parties, running horses and wolves, wolves everywhere. One that particularly strikes you depicts two wolves and a woman in the center, they seem ready to bite her fiercely, you notice with discomfort.

High glass windows with curtains left open allow lightning to illuminate the entire room, followed by a terrible, howl-like rumble.

That horrible noise seems to awaken you from the sort of trance you fell into while admiring the surely master bedroom, and you finally take serious note of the burning fire. Why a working fireplace in a castle uninhabited for years?

“To many the night brings counsel, to me it has brought a lovely maiden, I see...” you gasp surprised and terrified, turning toward the silky, warm, yet slightly hoarse, almost growling voice.

A relatively young man watches you with his shoulder resting against one of the stained glass windows. You had not seen him. No. He was not there before, you are absolutely sure.

His dark, shiny hair has been grown down to his neck, some curling around his sharp, elegant jaw, the neck left bare by his unbuttoned, white shirt is a set of sinuous, sharp, powerful lines. The soft black pants do nothing to hide the wonderful figure of his long legs, his feet are bare, you notice. He feels perfectly comfortable, as if... as if that were his home.

“I-I... I'm sorry, it's Halloween and some friends of mine thought...” you try to explain with your hands clasped to the skirt of your dress, but you are immediately interrupted by the man's sophisticated, sassy giggle.

“They thought it was a brilliant idea to violate my property?” you pale at his question.

“We... the whole town believes the castle is uninhabited,” you reply with a shy breath, trying to justify them.

The young man breaks away from the glass window, slowly approaching you, you take steps back, inadvertently bumping into one of the pillars of the bed.

“And does it look uninhabited to you, little girl?”

Little girl? By the look of him, he wouldn't seem that much older than you, in fact.

Now that he has moved closer, standing only a foot away from you, you notice details of his face that you did not catch a few moments earlier.

He has high, pronounced cheekbones, and his lips seem so plump and soft that you blush at the thought of kissing them, his nose is well-proportioned and straight, while the peculiar shape of his eyes gives him a rather sweet and angelic air, although the fun written in them is anything but angelic.

“I didn't know, I'm really sorry, sir,” and it's true, the last thing you want is to be a nuisance to someone you don't even know, “I'll get my friends back and we'll leave right away, I promise.”

Dark eyes rimmed with long eyelashes watch you closely, before dropping to the rest of your body. Suddenly you remember the deep cleavage of your witch's dress, your skin burning under his watchful gaze.

“Right now there is no one else in the castle, except you and me,” he approaches again, you can feel his warm breath meet your neck, you shiver as the man clasps one hand above your head, around the pillar of the bed, doing the same with the other. This makes it clear how statuesque his physique is, compared to your more petite one, you also catch a subtle citrus fragrance, light and not cloying, is that him?

With a huge effort, you process his words, widening your eyes. No one else?

“But how-”

“In my opinion you made it all up, little girl,” he sneers, "Just admit that it was your curiosity that drove you here," but you shake your head, vehemently denying it.

“I really came here with friends!” you fret, you've never been good at handling pressure and this guy is not helping you at all.

“Oh, really?” a devilish smile makes its way across his soft, smooth cheeks, "So it's just a coincidence that you're wearing this dress?" you don't know how to answer the question, you can't, not when he lowers a hand over you, brushes the outline of your face with a finger, trailing down the delicate line of your neck to your cleavage, your rippling, shivering skin longs to receive his touch once more, you struggle to recover.

“Th-this dress?” you stammer in shame, his finger is still grazing your chest and you are doing nothing to push it away.

“Mh-mh,” he nods, pushing your cleavage down a few millimeters, enough to make you squeak with red cheeks, “How much do you know about this castle and its owners, little girl?”

Nothing, you'd like to answer, but your eyes already communicate your answer as he pulls back, finally letting you breathe. His scent still hovers around you, though.

“Year 1479, the people of the town of Howl enter into an agreement with the seven lords of Midnight, ceding a part of their lands to these noble lords and agreeing to send a virgin once every ten years, on the so-called Halloween Night,” he narrates, leaving you speechless, “In return, none of the townspeople would be hunted down and killed, does that ring a bell?”

“L-Listen to me, I really don't know what you're talking about, I definitely have to go now,” you nod at your own words, but the door slams shut along with a new and terrible rumble, an anguished cry involuntarily leaving your throat.

“The dress you're wearing is soaked in poison, little girl” the imperious tone terrifies you, automatically your body closes in on itself, as a kind of protection.

“This must definitely be a joke, it is Halloween after all,” you whisper to yourself with tears in your eyes.

“It's a security, for us. It ensures that the girls don't run away, because we are the only ones who can neutralize that poison” you don't know why the man started speaking in plural, you just know that you have to leave, even though something inside you is screaming at you not to. Because it could end very badly.

“You'd better take it off, your body might absorb more poison than is really necessary, the sooner we start the better,” he sighs, beginning to take off his white shirt, showing off a well-built, smooth chest and abs studded with thin scars lighter than his skin, swallowing without any more salivation, following long lines of black ink that weave across his pecs, forming some kind of mark, perhaps related to some cult.

“What are you doing!”

The man tilts his head, his soft hair following the movement meekly, and grasps the edge of his pants, running his forefinger and thumb over it defiantly as he watches you, “I'm taking what was given to me, little girl,” he sneers again, not at all impressed by your shock.

It was not uncommon for him and his brothers to be served girls who were totally unaware of their own destiny, they were tiresome at times, they would not stop shaking and crying, praying not to be deprived of their purity, but you smell so delicious that it might make him go beyond your dullness.

The fabric of his excellent quality pants slowly flows over the flawless skin of his toned legs, the blood rushes straight to your cheeks, and your heart misses a beat with a strangled “iiih” as you realize that the stranger has not only freely undressed in front of you, but is not wearing any underwear.

You've certainly never seen a naked man in person, but based on your anatomy books, that is definitely not a normal penis.

With a strange feeling of dizziness and no little embarrassment, you realize that even at rest, it is definitely big, with a swollen base almost as big as perfectly round testicles and such obvious purplish veins that you wonder if it is actually already hard, in its own way. Could that vibrant pink be an indicator? God, what the hell are you thinking?!

After a little dizziness your eyes fly to the closed door, you have to leave, run.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asks you, smiling with a hint of danger in his eyes, “Do you want to run? Run away from me? Know that this will only excite me more.”

You try to look away from his cock, with extreme difficulty, as he spoke, his cock had moved slightly, as if agreeing with the man's words. You ignore the slight jolt between your legs.

“If I can get through the gates of your property, will you let me go?” you propose almost shyly, staring into his sly eyes.

“Um... if I let you go, you'd die from the poison, but if that's what you want...” he shrugs, making you frown. The story of the poisoned dress might be bullshit to convince you to let him fuck you, but what if it's not?

You shake your head, it's all just a bluff. This man is clearly a pervert, maybe he gets off on fucking on such nights with stranger women.

“That's what I want.” you assure with a note of panic in your voice, the desire to escape is so urgent you can hardly think, “Open the door.”

But the man shakes his head, “Strip and I will leave you free to roam my lands until I find you.”

“I don't-!” the words die between your lips, his singsong expression gone, giving way to a sternness that clashes with his regal features, the difference making that contrast frightening.

“I like to play, little girl ... but I don't tolerate whining, don't make me angry, because I might decide to take you now, we have a bed available right here and now,” he hisses, clenching his fist against the polished wooden backboard of the four-poster bed. The more he looks at you, the more his balls throb fiercely; he's trying to control his desire; if his cock hardens, that's the end.

You're the first woman he's seen in 60 years, finally his turn has come, and there's no way he'll let you go. Do you want to play? He'll let you, but eventually you'll give in to his desires. The scent of your sweet virgin pussy makes his wolf growl, eager to get out to meet you.

Perhaps you sense something strange, because with trembling fingers you go to unbutton the side opening of your dress, a little sorry to him, the plunging neckline raises and shapes your breasts invitingly, though the stench of the poison with which it is imbued leaves him disgusted. An idea of humans to persuade chosen women not to flee, his eyes scroll over the ancient clock hanging above the door, the hands turn and you have just four hours to go before the poison takes effect, killing you. He would be sorry to see you die without having had a chance to taste you first.

“Tic-Tac, the clock is ticking, little girl... the slower you are, the more likely you are to die,” he informs you with a smile, your fear written all over his face igniting his loins; he has to restrain himself so he doesn't jump on you, and you're aware of that now, too.

Your eyes study his shoulders, they have stiffened noticeably, and with embarrassing speed you unfasten the last side button, letting the soft black fabric of your dress slip off like a veil, leaving you in your bra and panties. You start up under his eyes, which move to observe every nook and cranny of your body, from the soft breasts enclosed in the cups of the purple lace bra, going lower and lower, past the delicious curve of your hips to the tightly clasped mount of Venus covered by more purple lace. You yourself realize that for a man who wants to possess you, that kind of lingerie might make you look like a neatly wrapped gift in his eyes.

“Don't stop,” he tells you hoarsely, his eyes veiled with glowing lust.

The blood leaves your veins; if he were to take you, you would already be ready to receive him. As your fingers move to get rid of your bra as well, you realize you don't find it such a disturbing idea after all, even when you finally pull down the light fabric of your panties, showing off something no boy has ever had the honor of looking at, his nostrils flaring as if to inhale something in the air, you are aroused.

“You'd better start running, little girl, I'm going to give you exactly twenty seconds head start,” his voice comes out as a guttural sound, making you widen your eyes and really run, when the door suddenly opens wide.

You don't even wonder what strange contraption he used to close or open the door without having to physically do it, you just know you are definitely in danger.

Every nook and cranny of the castle is an unknown, he owns it, he may know passages unknown to you; therefore, you always try to wander the corridors with no visible openings. A tense, animalistic roar makes you scream in terror, with spirited eyes you look down the stairs, you are close to the stairs to the hall, the door has not been locked, you just need more time, you can make it.

You sling yourself barefoot down, almost tumbling from your haste and throw yourself out, skipping the stone steps and then to the wild path, short of breath and fear dictating your decisions, you remember it took you a good twenty minutes to get to the castle, but walking the whole path is out of the question, it would be too obvious and easy, you necessarily have to lengthen the path and consequently put in more time to get away from that terrifying place.

With horror you realize that you don't know where Glenn and Claire might be at all, would he hurt them if he found them?

Of course he would.

You don't know the man, but you have noticed all too well the bestial aura around him; he is someone capable of harm, and he will harm you if you cannot escape him.

Your feet step on scattered branches on the ground and you whimper trying to ignore the pain, another roar - or maybe it's a howl? - rips through the air, mingling with the howls of the rushing wind, and you stifle an anguished cry.

Scratches open along your body, trees ravaged by bad weather and never tended seem to want to block your way in every way possible, and the darkness certainly doesn't help.

Like a wounded animal you limp aimlessly, not imagining the hunger of the ravenous beast that sneers at the scent of your blood.

You feel tired, sluggish at times, your peripheral vision somewhat obscured, an excruciating doubt makes its way into your mind. Could it be that the story of the poisoned dress was true?

But why sell it to you, how could the seller have known that your friends would take you to that castle on Halloween night?

You begin to stagger, a sharp twinge in your head stops you, it is so painful that you collapse on the icy, muddy ground.

You realize you are screwed in every sense of the word when a weight suddenly crushes you to the ground, you scream in terror and wide-eyed, trying to shake it off.

Jimin doesn't think twice about clasping you in his vigorous arms, burying his nose on your neck damp with cold sweat, the accelerated beat of your heart rumbling in his own chest, driving him to moan with need. He presses himself against your soft curves, basking in your feverish warmth despite the stormy, icy night.

“Don't hurt me,” you shake your head with your eyes closed, trying to fight the unusual fatigue to plead with him, "Please, I was wrong, forgive me...I won't come back here again, I swear," the boy snorts against your flustered skin.

He reluctantly lifts himself up to allow you to turn toward him, you find some strength to open your eyelids wide, being invested by his sometimes divine appearance. His eyes, no longer as black as you thought they were, are tinged with an extraordinary shade of gold, he watches you from receptive pupils as you notice the grin on his mouth, a mouth larger than you remembered. There is something strange, not human, about him now. And despite the run he must have made to keep up with you, he doesn't have the slightest hint of fatigue in his breath, he's as fucking fresh as a newly bloomed rose.

“You're dying, little girl,” he hums, shaking some hair off your forehead, you lose a beat at the sight of long claws where once there were short, well-manicured nails.

The claw grazes your skin unhurriedly, you feel it scratch without hurting, you anxiously lick your lips closing your eyes, you are so sleepy that you even willingly accept your fate, Jimin snorts through his nose, almost laughing, before lowering himself onto your jugular.

It would be really easy for him to sink his canines into your flesh and bite your throat to rip it out, but fortunately for you he is not a vampire. All he wants is to sink his cock into your pussy and make you cum repeatedly, but if you died it would be hard to put his plan into action. He wants you alive and receptive.

He licks a long streak of saliva onto your delicate neck, heedless of the dirt that has stuck to your skin, before gently biting you. Your reaction is immediate, you start sobbing like a puppy at the feel of his fangs penetrating your flesh, you cling to his shoulders trying to move him weakly from you, and you kick awkwardly with your legs, legs that are locked in a vice grip by his. That way it is easy to feel something hard and heavy pressing against your belly, you try not to think about it as the man seems inebriated by the taste of your blood flowing straight down his throat.

The bitter taste of the poison is revolting, but fortunately your blood has such sweet notes that it counterbalances that horrendous taste in a balanced way, here, now he just has to lick your wound thoroughly. He collects the last rivulets of your blood with his tongue, before dripping his saliva into the tiny holes created by his sharp canines, little holes that begin to close with light smoke, cauterizing the wound and partly removing the poison toxins from your blood.

With no longer a grip on your throat, your head falls limply back to the ground, you gasp trying to fight off the shock of such an experience.

“Mpf!” his tongue invades your mouth treacherously, the taste of your blood making you squeal on his lips, so unfairly soft and pleasant to the touch. The hot and unusually long muscle pushes into your oral cavity eagerly, saving your life has as if awakened the more primal side of Jimin, one of the seven lords who unleashed hell in Howl's town. And the mating ritual has begun, but you cannot know this.

You break free by gasping for air, “W-why?” you stutter breathlessly, “You don't even know me!” you cry as you drive your nails into his forearms, triggering in return a reaction of possession in him, prompting him to grab your thighs and lift them onto his shoulders to your profound horror, he is so wild as he spreads your legs wide open to sink his face in between them that you can't utter a single breath.

As he runs his tongue along your pulsing, hot folds, Jimin realizes with nastiness that during your escape you got wet for him, he had smelled your arousal as he pursued you, on some people the quickened heartbeat has that effect, but the sweet and slightly salty taste of your juices are now a definitive proof for him. And you can't deny it, you love how he teases you by slowly sliding around your swollen clit, plays with it by holding it between his lips and then releasing it after sucking hard, almost biting it. He tortures it by pricking it quickly with the tip of his tongue and then returns to lapping your thick juices from the soft slit, which seems to melt every time that devilish tongue penetrates it, managing to lick and stimulate walls that a normal tongue could never reach.

You shyly move your pelvis against his face, your thighs stained with your arousal tremble against his cheeks, and a terrible heat makes you pant desperately. The man abandons your slit to push himself again against your unbearably sensitive folds, they are so moist that you can hear the noise they make every time that cursed tongue stimulates them to push a few millimeters toward your clitoris, never reaching to touch it.

“God!” you curse, suddenly reaching out an arm to grab his hair, not recognizing yourself when you desperately push him against your pussy, longing for the pleasure he was spoiling you with at first.

His arousal makes him grunt like a wounded animal as he sinks into your core with languid, sensual movements, rewraps your desperate clit with his lips and tongue before continuing with more direct, zigzagging movements, crushing it at times with the flat part of his tongue and then flicking it with the tip soon after. He would never stop kissing and licking you like that, his tensed cock vibrating each time he eats you up a little more, delightedly swallowing your juices, enjoying retrieving them each time they flow between your wide-open, rosy thighs. A clearer, liquid substance squirts slightly out of your slit, causing you to shake around his head, you clench your lower lip between your teeth with tears sliding down your flushed cheeks, you are instigating Jimin to pleasurably hurt you, and the funniest thing is that you don't even notice.

Finishing licking some of that shiny, transparent substance from your inner thigh, the boy moves up your body, biting slowly at the flesh of your belly and then higher and higher to the softness of your breasts, titillating a turgid nipple before pulling it between his lips.

“W-What are you doing to me?” you gasp, wishing he would never stop adoring and cuddling your body, why? Just moments before you were running from his clutches, why are you lifting your pelvis now, inviting him to take you as if you've been waiting for this all your life?

“Are you just...” he murmurs, before kissing your chin with his devilish lips, "Responding to your desire" he kisses your mouth again, an electric sensation forcing you to comply, chasing his tongue with yours, collapsing to the spicy taste that is now all over his mouth, your taste.

With half-closed eyes you realize that the dark lines of ink are moving, taking the shape of a wolf watching you, you have no way to comprehend the unsettling sensation that invades you. The man, with one hand pressed against your bare back, forces you to turn away without you having any say in the matter, you find yourself with your face to the ground and the wind blowing down your back, shivering under his fiery, golden eyes, your legs trembling from the effort to keep you on your hands and knees, fighting the sweet pain pulsing in your naked pussy.

“Now hold still, little girl,” he murmurs in your ear in a husky voice, sensuously pumping his cock with one hand, swollen veins pushing against his palm, which squeezes along the entire shaft to the base, then back to the thick tip from which he is already dripping his thick cum, "I need to get all the venom out of your pretty little body, am I right?" he sneers, positioning himself at your entrance.

You open your eyes wide, panic stifled by arousal, but it's still there nonetheless, clenching your fingers between the grass and damp earth, rubbing your knees against pebbles that make you moan in pain. The length of his cock begins to push against your slit, forcing it open for him, a choked cry leaves your throat, feeling your walls that, despite their wetness, struggle to let him in.

“You're still so tight,” hisses the man unfamiliar to you, "I must spoil you some more, huh?" he chuckles, sliding his hand between your legs, using his index finger to stimulate your throbbing bud, you gasp arching your back and raising your buttocks toward the man, who takes the opportunity to plunge his cock another inch into your entrance, which throbs and squeezes him rhythmically, almost making him lose control of the situation.

The sensation of the claw grazing your folds each time he presses and massages your swollen clitoris brings you almost to the edge, you feel a wild sexual desire, something you never experienced even during your teenage years, a crucial period of sexual development.

“Go ahead, please!” you exclaim breathlessly, pressing your forehead against the ground, every single millimeter that moves inside you without really penetrating you is like torture, your index finger moving languidly, and you're going fucking crazy.

“Are you really begging?” he teases you, you grit your teeth until it hurts, but finally you give in.

“Please... fill me, take me!”

“Do you want it?” he asks again, pulling the tip almost completely out, the only part he had managed to get in, you clench your legs desperately trying to recover what your intimacy has lost.

“Yes! I want it! I want your cock, I want it to fill me all the way, and I want it now!” you growl with an anger that burns under your skin, looking at him from behind, his face is an emotionless mask, but his eyes...oh, those never lie, you read the fire of desire in them, he's suffering that anticipation as much as you are. Bastard.

“You begged for it so well, little girl... I'll just have to satisfy you,” the cavernous tone clashes with his appearance, but it anticipates what happens next and leaves you breathless, abandoning your contracted clitoris he grips your hips tightly, almost penetrating your delicate flesh with his claws, pushing himself into you with a vigorous thrust, instantly breaking the thin membrane at your entrance, effortlessly. The burning that follows makes your eyes water, your body instinctively trying to escape the man's savage assault, suddenly realizing that you have lost your virginity that way, out in the open, sweaty and dirty, just like an animal.

The man on top of you hisses and makes strange deep sounds, inebriated by the sensation of his throbbing cock finally and completely squeezed between your trembling walls, trying to adjust to the abnormal size. You gasp whimpering, moving your pelvis trying to disentangle yourself from the overgrip, his claws are hurting you, but he doesn't seem to want to let go, not now that he is buried so deep.

With a grunt he thrusts out slightly, watching as your pussy instinctively clings to him, as your thick juices and virginal blood wet his entire length, lubricating him. Leaning toward you, he lets a long trickle of saliva fall back between your buttocks, slipping between them reaches the point where you are joined. He thrusts back into you forcefully, striking deeper and deeper, and you feel every detail of his cock penetrating you and thrusting higher and higher, touching points so delicate and sensitive that you howl meekly, like a she-wolf offering her whole self to her mate, the pain has been replaced by the need to be possessed, you move against his pubes with urgency, the thread of pleasure is getting thinner and thinner, you feel incredibly wet, practically soaked, and the sounds of your union are so obscene that you are shamefully aroused. Your walls flutter drunkenly with pleasure, at one point with the thick, red tip he manages to hit the entrance to your cervix with precision, you stiffen whimpering breathlessly, and Jimin collapses on top of you, continuing to move his hips tirelessly and with spellbinding sinuosity.

You take it so well that it is impossible for him not to want to have you again and again, throwing back his head to be hit by the moonlight that increases his desire, his pupils widen and he feels his testicles clench with urgency as the base of his cock swells, making him shake all over. Without a second thought, he begins to enter you with deeper and longer thrusts so that his whole cock sinks into you without any more constriction, he hears you panting and crying and this only causes him joy, you are completely abandoned to him and your sensations.

You're about to come, you're not so ignorant that you don't know what's happening to your body, you've even heard of intense orgasms, but this... god, this is going to be devastating, you know very well. It's nothing like the ones you had with masturbation, this one is deeper, snaking through your lower belly and you feel it in your uterus. You stiffen all over, trying to block the erection that keeps pinning you down between hard, sensual thrusts, every time it touches your cervix you risk going crazy.

“Don't stop me, little girl... It's here, isn't it?” he gasps at you, slamming into you once more, high up between the entrance of your uterus and another sensitive area that makes your clitoris and walls tear with intense pleasure, your toes curl and you can't help but nod desperately, "Alright, love," he replies without even realizing it, kissing your bare, sweaty shoulder, his knot is almost complete, but he wants you to come before he gives you his cum.

He teases a sensitive, turgid nipple with the tip of a claw as he reaches the point of your union, massaging your folds to help you come, though with a hint of naughtiness he doesn't dare touch your clitoris, he wants you to orgasm on your own, knowing that the intensity then will be greater and you will collapse weak and distraught in his arms.

“Oh, fuck-!” you widen your eyes, being hit by a pressing and beautiful sensation of jouissance, sucking him furiously into you amid tremors and searing waves of pleasure, the same clear liquid as before leaks from your slit, this time in a greater quantity, causing Jimin to grunt as he is run over by your jet, slamming into you almost brutally, streams of his cum fiercely fill your core, as if to mark you for life, and finally his knot swells completely, locking him inside you.

Although immobilized, he cannot stop coming, his testicles quivering violently, and only one thing could quell his aching desire. With his eyes now almost completely encompassed by the black pupil, he pushes your hair away from your neck, exposing your previously tortured skin.

“Why does this go on?” you ask feverishly, confused by the enormous weight widening your walls and locking his big cock into you.

“Sssh” he rubs the tip of his nose against you, making you shudder, "Just wait a little longer" his words are followed by an excruciating twinge, his grown canines penetrating like blades into your skin and sinking into your flesh amidst your shocked and submissive screams, your body surrendering to his force, instinctively submitting and waiting for him to finish marking.

Jimin loves blood, your blood, it pleasantly bathes his tongue with its density and sweetness, he moans with need as he loses himself in your scent, instinct commands him to move his hips once more, even though you are both locked together, with a weak moan you take in the last strings of his cum, resting possessively in your belly, you feel heavy and unbearably full, but at least he seems to be finished, you feel him relax as he once again licks the holes left by his teeth, healing them. He looks like a wolf cleaning up after his mate after mating.

“What are you?” you ask wearily, by now surrendering to the idea that the man cannot be a mere human, that probably everything he has told you, from the poison-soaked dress to the deal with the town, is real.

“Jimin” you hear him grunt at such a low frequency that if you hadn't been alone, you probably wouldn't have heard him. You snort weakly.

“I asked you what you are, not your name,” you murmur, the strange, heavy weight preventing you from moving, hissing as Jimin moves awkwardly between your legs, putting you in a more comfortable situation, letting you rest against his chest lethargically, occasionally kissing the back of your neck and licking your neck, or behind your ear.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't like all that attention; you feel a delicious bite around your heart as you cling to his embrace, protected from the evening chill.

You don't know exactly how long you spend like this, maybe forty minutes, maybe an hour, the fact is that finally that thing between your legs seems to melt away, making you sigh almost strangely.

Jimin gently untangles himself from you, leaving your warm shelter slowly and with a feeling of emptiness that stuns you, your legs finally relax and you try to move them to regain some mobility, you feel his cum pushing to come out and two of his fingers enter you, plugging your entrance. No claws, you notice as he slowly turns you around.

You hiss at the burning, your knees are completely ruined, but Jimin begins to sprinkle them with kisses and saliva, the man is back between your thighs again, you can see his long, wild hair shining as he licks and sucks your skin from time to time, all the way to his fingers, he moves them slowly inside you and you twitch involuntarily, closing your eyes at the warmth of his tongue licking a thick streak of cum and juices dripping roughly from you, pushing it down to your hypersensitive clitoris and you moaning in pain.

“Don't do it,” you gasp, closing your legs tightly, but he doesn't give up, grabbing your chin between two fingers and forcing your mouth wide open, your heart faltering with a strange emotion, you let him spit all his creamy load into your mouth, running along your tongue with a surprised cry.

“Swallow,” he orders with a gleam of interest in his eyes.

You do as he tells you, wanting to please him in every way possible, accepting him back into your mouth for a slow, intimate kiss. It is also dominant and sweet, intense.

“I'm Jimin, a werewolf and also one of the masters of the castle,” he explains pushing you against his bare chest, you hug him back as if it were the most natural thing in the world to be there, clasped to him on a bed of dry leaves, "You are my mate, it's no accident that you were chosen ... being a virgin at your age is unusual for humans, but not for us wolves, you waited for me," he emphasizes with fire in his eyes.

“But ... my friends?” you can't help but ask, which makes him chuckle.

“My people have learned to be among humans, they recognized you by scent and led you to me at the right time, they are fine,” he informs you with a caress, “In fact, you should worry about yourself,” he says with a note of reproach.

“H-How?” fear advances again.

“I've waited too many years for your birth, little girl... it's time to repay the wait,” he hums as something hot and hard returns against your belly.

“Jimin, wai-!” too late, the tip of his cock captures your entrance again, this time with more ease and the next thrust has you writhing against him with tears in your eyes, “Oh, shit!”

© 𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲𝐙𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐢 -  𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. || 𝐔𝐧𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝/𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝.

[mikareo]

“ ࣭⸰ ★ THE MOON SAYS HELLO. . . ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀呪術廻船; geto suguru x fem reader ⠀ ꒰ . . part one of three ꒱ . . . word count; 3.6k

⊹ ⠀⠀despite his insistence on never falling in love, suguru fails to stop himself from becoming smitten with his best friend’s beloved. you’ve become a flicker of hope in his darkness— though you’re someone who can never and will never be his to have and to hold.

series contains; if gojo didn’t kill geto n geto was given a chance to redeem himself, redemption arc!geto, human caretaker!reader, kind of e2l but also not really, love triangle, gojo x reader, fluff, major angst, heartbreak, wedding at the end, swearing probably, geto refers to humans as monkeys per usual author's note; rewritten fic, will be 3 parts in total (i'm half done pls be patient w me im a slow writer...)

YEAR ONE, DAY ONE

His face is sore. So sore. It’s red, swollen, and sore after he’s spent the last three hours screaming in frustration with his current predicament. This is absurd, Satoru should’ve just killed him when he had the chance. Geto’s lost count of how many times his palms have slapped his own face; over and over again with wishes that he can wake up from this hellish nightmare the higher ups call ‘rehabilitation’— though he can somewhat still recall the first slap that he’d given himself around the half-hour mark. He’s got a pretty good memory…that doesn’t stop him from hoping his veins aren’t too noticeable as they angrily protrude from his forehead in crimson currents.

He’d rather be dead than imprisoned like this…like an animal…like one of those damn useless monkeys.

The intensity of his wails continue to bounce off of the barren walls— barren aside from the dark mark he’d punched in earlier— and echo like a party of lost ghouls in the bottom of an empty well. Geto feels like a mad man.

He’s only just begun his isolation and he’s already growing mad with boredom. 

A huff escapes his lips as he plops himself down onto the twin-sized bed that’s nestled in the corner of his so-called ‘suite’. With linen sheets and a dark maroon comforter, it’s almost a cozy living situation; in another life, Geto could imagine himself cuddling beneath the covers with his favorite book and a soft record playing in the background for some ambience. That world is far far away now. Even if he asked for a record player, he doubts the higher ups would grant him one. He’s their most valuable prisoner, and they’re sure to keep him as miserable as possible until he’s one-hundred-percent pure hearted once more. However, despite their reluctance to grant him the things he wants, these aren’t the worst living arrangements he’s ever encountered and he knows that Gojo did his best to give him the best commodities he could to…well…a highly dangerous criminal. 

This is the only path to forgiveness, he reminds himself, constantly trying to be optimistic about the utter absurdity of it all. 

Optimism hasn’t been his specialty in a long time; anyone with a working pair of eyes would be able to deduce that, and he despises it. He’s quite rusty with the characteristic and has looked on the darker side for a while now— but wishes that he could be as reckless as he once was as a teenager. He can vividly remember how loud his laughter was with Gojo and Shoko, laughing as they chased each other throughout the school yard and using each other's cursed energy to their advantage in games of tag— but that would be near impossible now. His two best friends can barely look him in the eyes after the treason he’s committed. Gojo views him as a ticking time bomb and Shoko’s healed too many people to count that he’s harmed.

If he stepped one foot out of this room, he believes he’d be smothered on sight.

The Jujutsu Society fears Geto Suguru..

…and Geto Suguru fears himself. 

In all fairness, he deserves everything that’s come to him. What he did was awful; mass murdering humans…trying to murder even more humans…harming innocent students…starting a war during the holiday season…the whole gist. There are obviously bad actions from the past that continue to haunt Geto to this day and will continue haunting him so long as he breathes— but that’s all it is now…the past. He wants redemption. He needs redemption. If Gojo managed to reach clarity within Geto’s awful decisions, then maybe he can too. 

Geto wants to get better, to be better…not only for Gojo…but for himself. 

This is exactly why he and his best friend has devised a plan, one that will hopefully help lead Geto on a better path— a five-year path that will only be completed if he truly wants it to, and a half a decade seems like quite a bit of time to most; but for Geto, he doesn’t know if it will be enough. 

For Satoru…do it for Satoru…

He wraps his arms around himself in an attempt to comfort his heart that beats with fear every second of every day. It’s been so long since he’s been hugged by another, and he doubts he’ll ever feel that love and comfort from someone in his life. It’s the first time in a long time that he’s been alone with his thoughts with no one else to turn to; and if he’s being honest, there’s nothing in the entire world that scares him more than his own mind. 

“Geto Suguru?”

He doesn’t recognize that voice.

The soft sound comes from seemingly nowhere, startling Geto with a slight jump. Whomever it is sounds frail and weak, obviously intimidated by whom they’re going to be in the presence of in mere minutes; and Geto already finds nothing but annoyance at his new companion. Of course they’re going to have prior judgment. He bets you already hate him for the rumors and stories. He doesn’t really have a choice whether or not you come in, though. Gojo insisted on a caretaker— someone to talk to so he doesn’t go insane by himself— and Geto will do anything to make his best friend happy. So, he stands up and dusts his pants off, making sure to look more presentable, and stalks towards the entryway. His hand meets the knob, yanking it open, and ready to meet the stranger on the other side. 

Standing before him is you, a woman around his age. You can’t possibly be older than twenty-six, but perhaps you’re a few years younger. In your hands are various sweets and snacks that Gojo knows Geto loves, balancing on a silver tray that shines more light in the room than he’d care for. The reflections dazzle straight into his eyes, blinding him briefly with a scowl on his face. Of course Gojo would know to send you in with his favorites. He’s so predictable. His best friend is less surprising than he thinks, causing Geto to roll his eyes to the top of his head; though he appreciates the kind gesture. It’s far past dinner, though. Gojo must’ve struggled to convince the others to allow him a proper meal. 

“Don’t just stand there, monkey.” Geto commands whilst gesturing to the small dining table in the center of his confined space. “Come inside.”

The instant you stepped into his presence, it was horribly noticeable that you have no cursed energy. Zero. Not a lick of it…and he struggles to hide the disgust with his body language. He can’t help but be annoyed that a monkey such as yourself is going to be in his company for the next five years. 

With his distaste for you clear as day, he pulls out a chair for himself and disregards the kind option of pulling out yours prior; expectantly looking towards you with the expectation that you’re going to serve him his meal like a servant. 

“Well, monkey…” he trails off disinterested, “I’m waiting.”

You hustle towards him, quickly and efficiently placing the special grade sorcerer’s meal on the placemat before him and taking the empty seat opposite. There’s a small breath you’re holding in, Geto can see it in your throat— it’s suffocating you with fear for your life as your fingers lightly tap the dark wood in a nervous fit. 

You’re completely pathetic. As if a monkey would ever have the courage to speak to him. This is ridiculous.

His hands slam against the table with a loud bang. “What are you doing?” he questions, heavily interrogating you as you cower in your seat like a meak mouse. “Does Satoru expect you to monitor my meals?”

He really is nothing but a prisoner, isn’t he?

“What damage could I possibly do with this slob that’s been served to me by the scum of the earth? Start a food fight in the halls? Overthrow the Jujutsu world with a biscuit?” (If that is the case, in your defense, the biscuits are quite hard. There must be a new kitchen hand in training who based them.) This is a horrible day.

As Geto impatiently awaits your answer, a deep breath escapes your lips— perhaps a way to soothe your heartbeat into something less than a record-breaking speed— and you attempt to focus your stress and fear into a fleeting moment of zen. Your large eyes shut for a total of three seconds; one, two, three…before opening again. This time, as his own eyes make contact with yours, they’re shining with slightly more confidence than before as you swallow hard and settle your gaze on Geto— the look in your eyes evolving from that of anxiety to empathy. 

“Actually,” your lips rise into a thin smile, “Gojo Satoru didn’t send me here, the higher ups did.”

Your eyes search Geto’s for any signs of discomfort or inner rage that could be boiling beneath the surface of his poker face. It appears that he’s grown even stronger at hiding his true emotions towards humans; however, you can see through the veil. Yes, it’s thick and difficult to brush past, but there’s a slight opening in the center that you peek inside— and what you can see in his heart is a man who simply wants to finally do what’s right. 

“The higher ups are aware that Gojo Satoru has a soft spot for you— hell, everyone who knows your name is aware that when it comes to you, he has no reason. He has no right of mind. I’m only here to monitor and report your progress in an honest manner. That’s it. That’s all. I promise I won’t intrude on your life more than necessary.” 

Shit.

“I’m sorry, Geto Suguru…but you’re stuck with me.”

It’s as if his left and right sides are arguing between themselves. His good conscience says that he should give you a chance, perhaps you could be different than the monstrous humans that attempted to kill his beloved Mimiko and Nanako; while his bad conscience tells him to let out one of his cursed spirits to devour you where you stand. Listening to his right side would definitely get him his best case scenario…a chance to see his girls again…but the left side would be so much more enjoyable. Oh well. At least the higher ups sent someone somewhat his age and not an ancient and decaying corpse like themselves. That’s a disgusting thought. He’d rather be hugged by a hundred humans than be forced to befriend a higher up. A shiver runs through Geto’s spine as a newfound appreciation for you is birthed within him.

“Do you have a name?” Geto taunts as he begins to pick at his meal, slightly disgusted with the stale quality of some of the snacks but nevertheless thankful that he at least has something to subside his aching hunger. “Or should I just call you ‘monkey’ as I do with the rest of your kind?”

That sound?

You’re laughing?

Your giggles are surprisingly pleasant to Geto’s ears as they harmonize into a song that he can imagine himself listening to each morning. Why did you find that funny? He was quite literally insulting your entire existence. Geto is dumbfounded by the strange humor you seem to have, considering that he was being entirely serious with his question. Humans are so strange. He’s never really been able to understand how your peoples’ minds work, but perhaps he could begin to learn the basics. It’s not like he has anything better to do, and some entertainment would be nice. 

He’ll keep you around…it wouldn’t hurt and you can be his companion kind of like a pet.

Pets are cute…

…your smile is cute too.

You smile once more, answering his question with a blush on your face. “Please,” your cheeks redden, “Call me by my name, Suguru.”

YEAR ONE, DAY NINETY-FOUR

“You’re late.” Geto crosses his arms over his chest, exhaling a large breath of air in a loud and annoyed huff as he attempts to seem seriously angered by his new friend’s awful timing. 

It’s nearly twenty minutes past the time that you were supposed to be here; emphasis on supposed. He’s been waiting with his eyes staring at the clock, watching it tick and tick as the time passed by with no you knocking on his door. That’s twenty whole minutes of time in which he was forced to entertain himself rather than listen to your rambles and rants about whatever the latest scandal is in the outside world. You love that pop culture gossip stuff that social media and magazines rave about, and in a weird way, you somewhat remind him of his daughters— personality-wise…not attraction wise…that would be weird. 

Over the past few months, Geto’s grown severely accustomed to the daily routine that you’ve developed, becoming so fond of you that he strangely pictures your smile and recalls your laughter when you aren’t even here. Friendship is a funny thing. He doesn’t think he’s ever had a friend like yourself; yes, Satoru will always be his closest confidant…but his relationship with you is different in a way that he can’t quite put his finger on. He’s never considered anyone else the highlight of his every day like he does you. Your company is the kind of presence that he overwhelmingly enjoys; with such a positive and warm nature exuding comfort to Geto’s loneliness, and your judgment-free outlook on life rivaling his pessimism in a perfect mixture of negativity and optimism. He wishes he’d met you sooner, perhaps when he was a child— and if he had, maybe he wouldn’t have turned out the way he did. 

It’s too bad you would’ve only been an awful human to him back then…he would’ve called you his infamous nickname without batting an eye…a monkey…

…a mere monkey whom he never ever thought he’d develop unwanted feelings for.

For his entire life, Geto always told himself not to fall in love. That love isn’t real. It isn’t obtainable, not when there are people like Satoru in the world— people that you can’t help but love— and then people like him; people who you can’t help but hate. With that being said, he’s never necessarily been looking forward to any potential love matches in his future.

…no matter who he was involved with…

…until he met you.

“Sorry about that, Suguru!” you hustle through the doorway, your appearance a tangled mess with dusty dirt particles littered with gravel. 

There’s a large scratch on your right cheek, not deep or in danger of infection in any way, but noticeable enough that he’s able to see it from a distance. Knowing you, it’s most likely accidentally self-inflicted in some sort of way; you being notorious for tripping or snagging your skin on the sharp end of a table. How do you always manage to be so uncoordinated? Geto can’t help but let out a short laugh, his eyes scrolling up and down your body and taking in your entire appearance, dirt and all. You even manage to make dirt look good. What the fuck? He hates this.

Your voice carries on as you approach him. “I was running on time, but then I saw this adorable shop downtown and I just had to make a stop.” The overexaggerated tone you hold is amusing as your hands wave through the air in a physical storytelling of your experience. The skin of your cheeks is flushed red from your sprint through the city, looking beautiful in resemblance to that of a blooming rose. 

Geto can feel his own face heating up at the sight of you, choosing to shrug nonchalantly in an attempt to seem as if he doesn’t care at all about your dilemma…

…as if he doesn’t care about every second of your everyday…

…as if your overall excitement isn’t the only thing that truly keeps him going nowadays. 

“You tell me these things as if what you do outside of this room matters to me.” He hopes his words mask his rising blush. (Spoiler alert: They don’t.)

Flawlessly, you brush off Geto’s phony disinterest without the slightest acknowledgement. It’s as if the phrase had never even left his lips, with no evidence and proof of insult. This isn’t an uncommon occurrence when the topic of what you do when you’re not with him comes up in conversation, as the prisoner typically tries to ignore his interest in your daily shenanigans— and you can’t deny that it hurts. Most of the time, it feels as if Geto never actually listens to anything you say, and you were able to quickly realize that in the early weeks of your arrangement when the pain began to torment your heart; ripping and shredding it to bits with every eye roll and mocking scoff. You don’t seem to matter in Geto’s point of view. He doesn’t care…at least that’s what you believe. 

In contrast to Geto, you’re an emotional spirit— you crave love.Love is all you’ve ever wanted, needed, and desired. In your time with him, you’ve developed inklings of feelings as well. However, you’ve chosen to let your feelings grow and blossom out of the dirtied patch of grass they were planted in— ignoring the warnings every single person in your life has given you in advance. Despite that, Geto continues to stomp on your budding flowers. He takes a heavy watering can, filled to the brim with hose water, and drowns your garden in the tears that you shed in the privacy of your bedroom. Those tears that are a never ending waterfall due to the fact that you know it isn’t your job to fall in love with your client. Your duty to Jujutsu Society is to help Geto learn to love humans and sorcerers as one in the same and to gain the trust of his community once more— not to love you.

“Okay, before you judge me, at least give me a chance to explain myself.” Stumbling towards Geto, you accidentally trip over your own feet in embarrassment, and proceed to hold out a single flower not yet in bloom. “It’s freshly cut. I saw a bouquet in the window and it caught my eye, because it reminded me of you; but I knew you’d hate a flashy bunch of them so I just bought the one.”

It reminded you of him?

Taking the gift into his own hands, Geto studies it intensely. The rose is a dark shade of red, crimson, or scarlet depending on your vocabulary. The petals are a brighter color while the plushness near the stem turns dark, more sinister as it approaches the thorns lining the sides. Just by looking at the rose, he can understand why it made you think of him. It’s gorgeous, but practically untouchable figuratively and literally. There’s only one angle that he can hold the stem at that doesn’t prick his fingers. Ouch. And he just did the very thing he was being so careful of avoiding.

All his life, he’s never been the kind of person who longed for gifts or compliments, but when coming from the right person…perhaps he is. 

Whilst he struggles to come up with a reply— a simple ‘thank you’ or ‘i appreciate this’— you mentally applaud yourself as you’ve finally found a way to make him speechless…

…but your praise for yourself is short-lived.

He can’t be weak. Not even for you.“I guess it’s not terrible.” Geto throws the flower to the ground and lightly kicks it away with his right foot. As one of the beautiful petals drifts away from the lonely flower, he turns away, not being able to endure the heartbroken look on your face and the offended rose on the floor. Why does he have to be like this? “I’m sure that garbage is all a monkey like you can afford anyways.” Why is he so cruel?

His eyes clench shut as he hears the door begin to close. You’re so gentle even when upset. He admires that about you— you’re the calm to his ever-raging storm, the sailor to his tsunami, and the lifeboat to his wreckage— you’re the most pure-hearted person he knows, and you don’t deserve this awful anger he holds within him. 

Is he…crying?

As tears begin to drip down his cheeks, Geto collapses against the wall with his knees buckling beneath him and his weight crumbling down to a pile of patheticness. He’s just a shell of a man undeserving of someone like you. Soft sobs escape his lips and silent cries fill the hollow room, absent of your joy, crying out until he notices the faint outline of the young rose beside him. With the flick of his hand, he snatches the flower off the ground and lifts the thorny plant with careful hands— finally and truly understanding your meaning behind the gift. This is how you see him? He’s dreadful and hurtful to others on the outside, prickling kind people away with his thorns…but when encouraged and supported, he has the potential to become something beautiful.

Someone that could one day be compared to the beauty that is of a blooming rose. 

With the budding rose in his grasp, Geto sits alone. He realizes that he’s only able to become that person with the help of you. You’re the only person that has even come close to seeing him for who he truly is; aside from Satoru you’re the only person who would think of giving such a gift to the number one enemy of the Jujutsu world. You’re the only person who he’s ever come to feel true and honest romantic love towards. 

Geto has to become better. Not only for himself and Satoru…but now, for you.

⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀thank you for reading! reblogs are greatly appreciated! ⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀i promise i'll post the next 2 parts soon pls be patient :3

[titaswrld]

I have a request for a deadpool fic, if you could make a very angsty story where deadpool thinks he is undeserving of love and never thinks someone in this world would fall for him 😭 he is self-conscious about his looks and never in his right mind it crossed him that he has a chance with the reader, but he would do anything just to feel loved. he's just a constantly depressed ball of sadness, and the only way he copes with his thoughts is his dark humor. while the reader is head over heels for that man, and she's showering him in love, but he only thinks it's because they're friends 😭🫶🏼

monster

description: wade wilson being insecure about his looks, not knowing if the girl he loves would ever love him back.

paring: wade wilson x reader!

contains: angst! with happy ending (i didn’t know how to end it😭)

w.c: 1.2k

|an: finally writing forreals again! i needed to get back into it. thank u for ur request, i hope u like it😇 reader is a baker bc i couldn’t think of a more wholesome career path😭

you’ve known your best friend, wade wilson, for almost a year now. starting off as just occasional friends, hanging out at each other's apartments, watching chick flicks, and eating your weight in junk food until your friendship grew into something deeper, feeling nothing but love and admiration for another and the desire to be something more.

he’s so in love with you; he knows that now. he tried to deny it; he tried telling himself there’s no way, there’s absolutely no way a woman as intelligent, as confident, and as kind as you could ever love a monster like him. He knew you deserved better—a handsome, young, intelligent accountant or something.

his field of work is dangerous; he knows that. killing random people he doesn’t even know for cash. large sums of cash, sure. but, nonetheless, killing. he honestly always found it humorous, a trained marksman, mercenary, and vigilante , with his super cool awesome, still in school to become a pâtissière best friend!

he knew you’d leave; he knew no human being on planet earth could bear even looking at his rough, bumpy skin. that’s why he’s yet to show you his face, never failing to wear his mask around you, even though you’ve known each other for so long now. he didn’t know why you were still around after all this time even with the mask on, he knew most people found him to be annoying, aggravating, and just an all around piece of shit person, but for some reason, you liked him, and you enjoyed being around him.

he’s never had someone so close to him, as you are with him. you’re so kind, so affectionate, and so touchy. he thinks it’s just pity, you’d never think of him as anything more than a friend.

he dreamt of being the man who loved you the rest of your life; he wished that he could fall asleep and wake up to your face every day, make you laugh every day, eat every meal with you, watch every movie and every show, spend every holiday together, fuck, even start a family. he craved you. he craved your love, your care, and your kindness; he wanted to be normal with you, but he’s not normal, far from it. he knew better than that. he knew he didn’t deserve that. he would never be the man that you love.

he’s not ready to let you go, but he can’t keep his feelings for you inside any longer. he honestly dug himself into an even deeper hole, choosing to come over almost every free night he had. he couldn’t stay away from you; he hated being away from you. during every mission and every fight, all he thought about was coming home to you. you’re the only person who truly understood him for the man that he is, and he loves you for that. he’s never opened up to anybody the way that he’d opened up to you. you were special, so special to him. he was terrified.

you felt hopeless, stupid, and desperate. every advance you made, you’d failed. from baking him his favorite treats, to holding his hand while you watched a movie on the couch, to giving him hugs that lasted a little longer than necessary after a long mission, you couldn’t get your best friend out of your mind, not if you tried. hou crave him, his love, his care, his stupid fucking jokes that never end, his sarcastic nature, his sass—you don’t think you have ever loved a man the way that you love wade.

sometimes, he made you think that he might like you back, that he might have some sort of romantic interest in you, but it was quickly shut down after he made a joke, basically telling you that it would never happen.

you and wade were sitting on the couch, just talking, telling stories, and catching up after a particularly long time apart. until you had thought of a statement, that could’ve told you whether or not wade may or may not feel the same way.

your best friend, mia, had mistaken you and wade for a couple while on the phone. when you denied her statement, she apologized, saying she’s sorry for assuming, but you did spend all your time together..

when you told wade what she said, he doubled down in laughter before spitting out, “you? me? never. who is this friend? have i met her? has she seen me before? you might need to get her 5150’d.”

which did shatter your heart into a million pieces, but nonetheless, it wouldn’t stop you from trying to show him how much you care, how much you want to be with him, and how much you want to love him. he deserved love, and you wanted to give it to him.

each time he made a self-deprecating joke, it broke your heart. it was torture for you. the most he would ever do is lift his mask slightly when he ate with you, only to pop a piece of food in his mouth, then sheathe his face with his mask once again to chew, repeating the process until he’d finished. but even then, you never looked out of respect.

there were multiple occasions where you could’ve snuck a peek, where you could’ve turned around and saw his full face, but you knew how genuinely insecure he felt and how scared he was for you to see his face, so you never looked, not wanting to betray his trust or make him uncomfortable. you loved him, and you wish he understood that absolutely nothing could change that. especially not the way he looks.

today, you were sat on your couch, waiting for him to arrive. He said he’d be over tonight for the usual—rom-coms and junk food. but today, you felt different, your balls finally dropped, and you were ready to admit how you felt, whether it was a good or bad outcome, you were ready.

every single worst-case scenario clouded your thoughts, making your palms sweaty and causing a deep ache in your chest until you heard a knock at your door, saving you from plummeting even farther into your head.

you open the door, and time feels slow motion. you didn’t see deadpool; you saw wade for the first time- the real wade. standing there with an anxious expression plastered across his mottled face, snacks in one hand and flowers ripped from the dirt outside of your apartment complex in the other.

your stomach dropped along with your expression, the shock stunning you into place as you began to gather your thoughts. this is what he was hiding, you thought. jesus christ, all of that trouble for this? you could almost hit him.

wade, on the other hand, paced in your hallway, back and forth for 15 minutes before this, trying to decide whether he should just bail and leave the fucking country or finally stop being pussy and just show you his goddamn face.

after seeing your initial reaction, his head dropped, his gaze on the floor, as he muttered, “i know. total freak show, right? freddy kruger? craterface? cmon, lay it on me.”

now was your chance, as you cupped his face with your hands and pressed your soft lips against his dry, cracked ones. you felt his tense muscles drop and relax as he melted into the kiss, relishing in the feeling and making sure it was real, too.

you’d pulled away, looking him in the eyes and flashing a smile his way before placing kisses all over his cheeks, forehead, nose, and chin.

your gaze fell across his face once again, this time meeting you with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

“so— ten things i hate about you, or steel magnolias?”

[kiame-sama]

Lately I've been haunted by NRC employees.

Reader is dozing off somewhere

NRC Staff: *Wakes Reader*

Reader: *Not yet awake, said in a whining voice* Dad, let me sleep for 5 more minutes.

After regaining consciousness, Reader continuously bowed his head to apologize to the NRC staff.

Reader: I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude to you. 😳😰😰

He doesn't even look up from the form he is filling out, still somewhat smiling from being called 'Dad'. "I know you didn't, little one."

He knows you're stressed and you are upset with yourself for snapping at him, but he isn't even worried about being snapped at. Instead, he is filling out an official appeal to make himself your legal guardian. Of course, he has to tell his daughters that they have a new little sibling, but he is sure they will take it in stride.

Oh. OH. You think he's your... Well, it is unexpected, but he is certainly not angry about it. You calling him dad is all the permission he needs to start treating you like his child.

He will be buying you clothes much like his own and taking you to the tailors to get them fitted. He will NOT be accepting any complaints from you on the matter either. He is YOUR FATHER and he is taking it more than a little seriously. Your 'pet' Dire Cat is going to get a makeover too. By the time Divus is done with you no one will be able to question who your father is.

At first, Coach Vargas isn't sure he hears you properly. He wonders if you are just being sassy or if you are actually confusing him for your father figure. Either way, he takes it in stride and decides he is going to be the best parent you could ask for. After all, you are the only non-magic student and you have zero family outside of Grim.

Once Vargas decides he is your father, there is no going back. From orange slices for snacks to checking in on how your homework is coming along, he will be 100.10% your father.

Sam is shocked. He's only 25 and you think he is your father? Well... I mean, it isn't like he has any issues being your father. If anything, he sees himself as more of an older brother to his kind little Imp.

He's going to throw himself into any education he can find of being a good guardian/father even if he feels he is a little too young to take care of someone else like that. You'll find that he's too fond of you to take your money now and he will be inviting you to any holiday he has outside of campus. Perhaps you shouldn't have decided that he's your parent, but by golly he has to make sure you are safe in such a rowdy school.

I have the distinct feeling he is a Fae of some kind- likely a crow/raven- so he won't really understand that he shouldn't take a child of man to parent as many Fae have the desire to take humans as their own young. You don't really have anyone to take care of you other than Crowley and the other staff members, so why not take this baby bird with no wings and feathers as his own.

He is not a good father and it will show, but he will try to be a good father at least. He does forget that humans need more to survive than the occasional food and affection. He will encourage all of the staff to treat his little chick as his own and will be the father that cares when it is convenient for him, taking a kind of "takes a village" approach to taking care of his new ward. He is your official guardian, after all, so you may as well just call him father or something similar. Isn't he just the best father to ever exist? What a great guy, right?

[mybelovedwoo]

song mingi as boyfriend - headcanon

headcanon, romance, fluff, smut

gn!reader x bf!atz

wc. ~0.8k

an: happy mingi day everyone!!

you can request headcanons if you want to (please only headcanons)!! if you want to be tagged in any of my fics you can apply here <3

masterlist

- the type of boyfriend who will be obsessed with you, and his whole personality would be around loving you and being the best boyfriend possible

-his lockscreen is you smiling for a picture he took on a date, he has playlists on his phone made just for you that you listen to whenever you are together and he talks about you all the time, like always has a fun fact to add about you in a conversation "you know when y/n was a child she liked that too" or "my girlfriend can also do that"

-he would give you the entire world if he could, unfortunately, he can't, but he would do everything with his power to make you feel like you are the most important, precious thing in this world (and next to him you actually feel like it)

-he would quite literally take you everywhere with him, to his studio, to dance practices and schedules, and if you go somewhere he would follow you around too, shopping and even meeting up with your friends

-he likes casual dates, like going out to eat (but not a too fancy place, more like a bbq) or going to the arcade or to the movies

-has a list on his phone about the things you like, and every time a birthday or Christmas, or any holiday comes he opens it and buys a thing from the list. looooves to give you gifts, especially clothes that he thinks would look good on you

-incredibly loyal, he will never leave you behind ever, and you can always count on him, he literally would drop everything if you ask him to

-he LOVES to be pampered, I mean he is just a big baby who loves cuddle time, and also appreciates when you cook for him (it just makes him fall in love with you even more)

-he can get very jealous sometimes, he just gets very sulky those times, but you just have to give him attention and lots of kisses for him and everything is okay

-constantly on a mission to make you laugh, but what makes you laugh actually the embarrassing things he does to make you laugh not the actual joke

-he loves to kiss the top of your head when you lean on him, it's a habit of his that he picked up due to his height

-he thinks you are the cutest human on planet earth and you think the exact same thing about him (bc he is)

-he will get all giggly when you initiate a hug or a kiss, but his favorite is when you hold his face and look deep into his eyes, he probably would get a heart attack from that, he can't take compliments either he would blush so hard

-his kisses are very slow and soft, but he would hold your face with one hand a bit roughly just to hold you secure, and the other hand is around your waist to keep you close to him

-he would call you nicknames like baby, princess or his personal favorite pumpkin, which is even your contact name on his phone

nsfw +18!!!

-so I think mingi is a switch, he could be a soft dom (but not as soft as san if you know what I mean), but he's rather a sub, he likes it when you take control, he thinks it's extremely hot, but doesn't mind taking control either if you're in the mood for that

-it always starts out very soft and romantic, just like his kisses. cuddle times lead to sex 70% of the time, he just wants to feel you even closer to him

-other times he is just really horny, but that's a whole different kind of sex, it would be hot and steamy, like when he comes home all frustrated from practice because he was thinking about you the whole time, or when he gets a bit jealous because you got a bit too close to another member

-when he is a dom ohh boy you'll have a long night. he would do literally anywhere, in the kitchen, in the shower, on the couch

-manhandles you shamelessly, pushes you against the wall, and loves to slap your booty (but not in the way it actually hurts)

-but when he is a sub, he is so loving and careful, all light touches and tender kisses, he just wants to be babied at those times

-for positions, sub mingi loves it when you ride him, he loves the view he gets, but dom mingi loves a good doggy, also loves to view from behind 

-i think vocally he is a bit shy in the bedroom, wouldn't speak much during it, just groans a lot

-aftercare is really important for him but prefers it when you do it to him, or at least for it together, would be really soft and kinda in a sentimental mood after

[spookydrreid]

Let’s Start the New Year Right

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

18+ minors DNI

desc: Spencer and reader get invited to a chill, casual NYE party. But things heat up right at the stroke of midnight.

cw: food mention, Spencer is a little awkward in the beginning, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, semi-public sex (in a bathroom)... Let me know if I missed anything

wc: 1667

...

“I can’t go dressed like this? People will laugh at me.” 

Spencer looks himself over in the mirror for the tenth time, running a hand down his sweatshirt. It was New Years Eve and you two weren’t doing anything too crazy, just spending time at your friend Andies house with a few others. She’d just bought said house and was desperate for you and the rest of your friends to see it. And what better time than New Year's Eve?

“They will not laugh at you. Andie said she wanted everyone to be casual and casual means jeans and sweatshirts,” you called from inside your closet. “And we’ll be out by the fire. You’ll be more comfortable like this. Trust me.” 

You peak around the corner to his portion of the closet, a small smile tugging at your lips. He looks cute, more dressed down than you usually see him. In fact, this is the most you’ve seen him in the past three weeks. Serial killers don’t take breaks, even during the holidays. So off he and the team went to bum-fuck-nowhere Alabama and missed Christmas.

It was disappointing to say the least. 

But it was his job, something he warned you of previously. However, it didn’t mean him missing important days didn’t hurt. But you sucked it up and smiled through it. Plus, it didn’t matter. He was home and he was safe. 

“I do trust you. But I don’t want to be underdressed.” He sighs moving to grab his tennis shoes, sitting on the little poof seat you insisted on buying. (And that he secretly loved. Not that he’d admit it.) 

You pull your hair out of the back of your sweatshirt, smoothing it down and grabbing a warm hat. “You won’t be. This isn’t like Rossi’s where we dress to the nines and get drunk on champagne.” 

You see him grin as he ties his shoes, a small blush rising on his ears. 

“Yeah he was sad we were coming this year. I, however, am excited we aren’t going. I have spent more than enough time with all of them. They’ll survive without me for a night.” 

You giggle, walking towards him and hugging him from behind. “Yes, baby, your friends will survive without you. You’re all mine tonight.” You kiss his cheek before straightening and checking your phone, “we should head out, sweetheart. Andie will be pissed if we’re late.” 

The drive to Andies was short, filled with Spencer's long winded explanation about why you and he bought your house at the ‘most perfect time’. You loved listening to him ramble, even if half the time he spoke gibberish. You were thankful you could google some of the super big words he used. 

The second you’re parked outside the house, big, beautiful and full of holiday cheer, you see Spencer tense. You’d think after six years together, he’d be more calm around your friends. They helped him with the proposal after all and he still has the group chat. The group chat where they send him memes he doesn’t understand. However, no matter the time, he isn’t the most comfortable with anyone but you. And more so in your bedroom. 

You find it… endearing to say the least. 

You reach over and grab his hand, squeezing it three times i am here. “Ready?” 

He squeezes back and nods, “I am… I think.” 

It’s all you need before getting out and never once letting go of Spencer’s hand. 

Andie stands at the door, smile on her face, two glasses of punch in her hands. “There is my best friend and her hot as fuck fiance!”

Spencer practically cringes at her words, never being one who could handle a compliment. Even if he was the most beautiful human you’ve ever seen. 

“Hi! Sorry we’re late. We had a late night. You know how it is, serial killers killing during the holidays. Dr. Reid forever having to save the day.” You pat his chest, looking up at him fondly. 

He loves when you look at him like that, eyes so wide, filled to the brim with love. He kisses your head and 

Andie fake gags, handing you the drinks in her hand. “Yes, yes. Get inside before we let the kitten out and before the cold air comes in.” 

You sip it, the vodka making your chest feel warm. Spencer looks down at the cup before looking back at you, “I can’t drink. Want this?” You nod, taking it and pouring it into your cup. “A-andie do you have water? Bottled? I don’t like sink water and fridge water tastes funny so bottled is better. Even though it’s not good for the environment.

“But it’s not really us that needs to worry. It’s the famous people who really pollute the envi-” 

Andie cuts him off, “Spencie baby, you don’t have to explain this to me. I have plenty of bottled water. Want a cold one or a room temp one?” 

Spencer curls his lips over his teeth, a small blush creeping up his neck, “cold is fine. Thank you, Andie.” 

“You’re welcome sweet thing.” She digs in her fridge and finds the bottle, handing it to him. “Now, time for a tour.” 

… 

It takes a good few minutes for her to show you both around the house, making sure she explains every single detail even down to the persian rug her current boyfriend bought her when he went to visit his mother. 

Spencer, of course, went on and on about this, that and the third. It was cute. 

But soon you were in Spencer's lap, staying warm by a fire and roasting a marshmallow while Spencer got the chocolate and graham crackers ready. You were two drinks and three shots in, happily buzzed but not even close to drunk. 

“You are so hot when you open chocolate. S’anyone ever told you that?” You say it quietly, not wanting to embarrass him in front of anyone. 

He smirks, using the top graham cracker to slide the toasted marshmallow off of the stick and smoosh it between the other cracker and chocolate. “No one has ever told me that. But there is a first for everything.” 

He takes the first bite before handing you the rest. You pout a little and he laughs. “You ate my smore! Not fair.” 

He kisses you, lips brushing over yours gently, “I will make you another when you finish that one.” “What happened to my shy boy? Getting bossy out here.” You smirk, knowing you’re pushing his buttons.

“I didn’t hear you complaining last night when I fucked you into the mattress.” He says right in your ear, nipping at it slightly. 

You shiver, squirming in his lap. “You-you can’t do this to me. We can’t fuck here.” 

He kisses your temple, “there are four bathrooms here. We totally could. They all lock, I made sure.” 

Andie claps her hands, “ten minutes till midnight!” 

Spencer grips your thigh, “what a way to ring in the new year? Me buried inside you.” 

You cross your legs, trying anything to get some friction. 

“They’ll notice, Spence.” You look around, no one is paying attention to you, most of them sucking face with their dates.

“Oh baby, they won’t notice.” 

Before you know it, your pants and underwear are on the bathroom floor, and Spencer's face buried in your cunt. You bite your fist to quiet the moan. For some reason, it was extremely hot getting eaten out with the possibility of someone hearing you. But that didn’t mean you wanted to get caught. 

“So pretty bunny.” He purrs from below you. He pushes two fingers inside you, easily opening you up. He knows your body better than you do, making mental notes of every little moan, gasp, and sigh that leaves your lips. Because of this it isn’t long before he has you falling over the edge, somehow keeping your moans quiet.

“Time,” He asks as he stands, towering over you.

You check your phone with shaky fingers, “11… 11:50” 

Spencer pulls at his belt with fervor, pushing his pants down till they pool at his ankles. “Gotta keep you quiet for another ten minutes.” 

His lips are on yours, swallowing your moans as he pushes all the way inside you. He doesn’t waste time, his hips snapping against yours. His lips travel from your lips and down your neck, moving your sweatshirt to the side to suck hickies where no one can see them. 

‘Just for me,’ he’d always say. ‘Only for me.’ 

“Spencer, please.” How you manage to whisper it is beyond you. But it doesn’t matter with the way he’s moving. 

“Shh… I’ve got you, bunny.” He snaps his hips faster. 

Your second orgasm comes right at 11:58. And it isn’t long before you can hear your friends counting down. 

Ten.

“Fuck bunny. Feel so good.” 

Nine

“S-spencer…” 

Eight

His hand covers your mouth, muffling your growing moans. 

Seven 

“I know you don’t want to get caught.” 

Six 

“‘Specially not so close to midnight. Right?” 

Five 

You shake your head no. Eyes staying locked with his.

Four

A wicked smirk crosses his lips, his confidence growing. 

Three

“S’what I thought.” 

Two 

His thrust grow more and more sloppy and before long his head falls into your shoulder and his orgasm rips through him, spilling inside you. 

One

His kiss is hard, hands on the sides of your face while he makes out with you, riding out the rest of his orgasm. He’s panting as he pulls back, Spencer's forehead resting on yours. 

“Happy New Years, sweet angel.”

...

I hope you enjoyed! This is my first fic in almost a year. Im nervous to say the least lmao. I love you all ❤️

[stqrgirlie0]

⋆✮theodore nott-pt 2✮⋆

part 1 / part 3 / part 4

the nott family has expanded with wealth over multiple generations, an abundance of wealth. perhaps not as much as the malfoy family, but certainly a fair share. considering this, one would think that theodore nott would be just as much of a prick as his father and every other male in his family is. however he’s not. quite the opposite actually, simply put- theodore is different. logically he wasn’t supposed end up how he has end up: as an actually nice human being, but i suppose we should thank his mother for this. Mrs Nott, born into the Shafiq family, derived from immense wealth as well the community of the Scared Twenty-eight. On a rainy night of March ‘86, Theodore, at the young age of 8, witnessed his mother’s murder by the hands of Rabastan Lestrange. Since then theo has frequent and violent flashbacks, keeping him up at night, leading to severe insomnia. Draco Malfoy is the first friend he befriends before joining Hogwarts, and so creating a strong brotherly bond between the two. theo is very fond of narcissa and thankful for her presence as a motherly figure, but of course this doesn’t stop him from missing the warmth of his mother..

Starting Hogwarts and making new friends wasn’t very hard for Theo, having spent most of his time by himself, in solitude, (or with Draco) theo had absolutely no problem in drowning out his surroundings. However this would have to change, he realised this as soon as he stepped into the great hall, bustling with students, nothing like theo had ever seen before. Arriving at the Slytherin table, full of new-joiners and boisterous upper years, theo quietly took his seat next to Draco. Everything about Hogwarts was beyond Theodore’s imagination, the laughter, the decorations, the colours, the people. Over the next few weeks, theo gradually emerged from his shell, gaining confidence the more he talked to others. Soon his group of friends expanded, he was like a magnet. Everyone wanted to talk to him, everyone wanted to be friends with him, it was a shock to say the least but what can one say- Theodore Nott to this day still has that charm. 1st and 2nd year flew by, full of mischief, trouble, and memories that would be unforgettable. Speaking of memories, theo will probably remember every single memory he’s ever had (possibly because the first 8 years of his life he had so few) but he will literally remember anything and everything. theo rarely went back home for the holidays, so when summer was finally over, he was more than happy to start Hogwarts for the third year. (this year EVERYONE got their glow up, and best you believe our man theodore did asw😻😻) theodore’s third year at hogwarts consisted of the friend group to dilute into five members- him, draco, mattheo, lorenzo and blaise. the five got up to no good- staying up late in each other’s dorms doing god knows what, sneaking out of hogwarts into hogsmeade and making their teacher’s lives miserable. not shockingly the group also managed to gain a whole lotta female attention, including theo, but unlike the others theo was quite unresponsive towards this and kept to himself and his friends, (lucky for us😝).

fourth year- things got messy. this year brought him and mattheo closer than before, initiating their very own brotherly bond. they would spend late nights up at the astronomy tower and come forward with their inner thoughts and feelings. theo feels a real sense of trust when talking to Mattheo about his mother, and likewise for Mattheo while talking about his father. if you think about it, Mattheo and theo are so similar yet so different, only more the reason for them to be getting along well. when i said things got messy, i was referring to the first party the gang was invited to. ravenclaws surprising quidditch victory lead to a huge rager thrown in their common room, with students from every house invited. now, why would they say no? that very night, the miraculous creation of fire whisky was discovered, they can all handle alcohol pretty well, but going to classes the next day was the real test.. yet this didn’t stop them from hosting regular shot nights in their dorms. midway through the year, draco’s interest had piqued in one of the greengrass sisters. (of course as we all expected) astoria was one of your dearest friends and seeing her so happy in a relationship with draco made your heart swell. so this bond caused the affixion of you, along with your two other best friends- pansy and daphne, with the group of boys. little did you know that this decision would result in you and a certain boy becoming one..

#a part two bcs you guys asked so kindly🙌🏼🥹 #kinda sad at the beginning and slightly rushed at the end😬 #i think I’m gonna do a part 3 but lmk if you guys’d want that!!

taglist- @iamgayforyourmom1510

[joekeeryswife]

joe keery has such strong dad energy, especially in recent photos from italy. can you write about joe traveling in italy with you and your baby daughter? i just know he’d be the type to wear his kid around and splash in the water with her, and fall asleep in the sun with her on his chest, and feed her little bites of pasta. with you, he’d make sure that your vacation was relaxing and that you felt treated like a goddess. insecure about wearing a bikini? joe can’t stop blushing when he looks at you in it even if you’ve been married for years. while the baby is napping, he massages your feet and cuddles with you. in turn, you set up reservations at his favorite restaurants and plan manageable but gorgeous walks around the city. idk man just dad!joe on vacation

Italy - j.k

a/n: hello angels. how have you all been? i’m so sorry i’ve been MIA lately but i’m back and better than ever! this request is adorable! let’s get into the imagine. it’s not proof read so please bare with me if this is shit lmfao, im still trying to get back into the swing of writing, i also can never seem to figure out how to end my imagines so if anyone has any tips please LMK!! for the ending the outfits are in the little collage🫧

taglist🫧

@johnricharddeacy @theshireisonfire @ssababe @phantomxoxo @livsters @hellfire1986baby @ladyapplejackdnd @alexxavicry @m-rae23 @sheisjoeschateau @kaverichauhan @missabsey @chxrrysprxut @thefrontofmymind @nightmonkeyparker @carinacassiopeiae @cherrymedicine13 @waratah-moon @minsugafour @k-k0129 @limelight23 @alwaysteveswife @krazykatkay456 @lma1986 (it’s been a while so lmk if you want to be removed 🫧)

“baby come on we wanna get to the pool, what’s taking you so long-” Joe barged into the bathroom without knocking making you jump out of your skin. after having your daughter Florence a year and a half ago you had been insecure about your new body.

you were curvier then before, had a few stretch marks scattered all over your body which had faded but in your eyes they were so visible. you just didn’t feel like yourself and with this being your first holiday since having her, you were nervous.

nervous that you didn’t look as good as you did before, nervous that you were gonna get papped and people online would say awful things about you, nervous people were gonna stare.

but to Joe, the sweetest man ever thought you’d never looked better. you had carried a whole human for 9 months and you looked incredible. “Joe, you scared me” you placed a hand on your chest and turned to look at him.

Joe looked at you, eyes darting across your body, seeing you in a bikini for the first time in over a year made him feel tingly. his face heated up “you look beautiful baby, jesus christ you’re gorgeous” he saw your eyes light up slightly.

Florence was in her playpen which you had brought along to keep her occupied, Joe had made sure she was safe before coming to look for you. even after five years of being together and three years of marriage, just looking at you made Joe feel giddy. he was so lucky to have you in his life.

you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and he couldn’t ever get over your beauty. Joe knew what you were doing in the bathroom, he had caught you one too many times and he hated that you felt insecure.

he walked toward you and pulled you into him “my pretty girl” he kissed your head as he hugged you closer. “you’ve never looked so beautiful” you smiled shyly. there was something about Joe, he always knew how to make you feel beautiful. he had a special way with words.

“come on, don’t want to keep you and flo waiting any longer” you said as you pulled yourself away from the hug. he ran back to Florence who squealed when she saw her dad, the two of them were best friends and although it made you jealous their relationship was your favourite thing ever.

seeing the two of them bonding was the most adorable thing in the entire world. even when she was in the womb he would spend hours and hours speaking to your bump with her kicking you in response. “my angel, let’s go. mama is almost ready” you heard him say as he picked Florence up out of the playpen, she squealed in delight as he did.

-♡-

the three of you were lounging around the pool, Italy was boiling hot and luckily the hotel you were staying at had a kids pool and an adult pool. Florence was a baby who loved the water, she never cried when having a bath, if anything she enjoyed it.

splashing around with her toys was her favourite thing to do. she loved your pool that you had back home, every time it was hot Joe would take her into the pool. your friends kids were a bit older than Florence and she loved watching them play in the pool too.

as soon as you and Joe got situated on your sun loungers he grabbed Florence and walked straight to the kid section which was thankfully right in front of you. you watched Florence splash the pool water with her toys, the biggest smile on her face.

Joe was sat opposite her with the exact same expression on his face. it was honestly scary how much Florence looked like him. they had practically all the same features except she had your eyes, she was a carbon copy of him.

aside from the fact that Florence and Joe where best friends and looked exactly like each other the worst of it all was when Florence said her first word which was of course ‘dada’. you had prayed that she said ‘mama’ first but nope. it wasn’t like it actually hurt your feelings, your daughter had days where you were the favourite parent and it made you tear up when she finally did say ‘mama’ for the first time.

Joe and Florence had only been sat in the kid pool for thirty minutes before his back started hurting but the look on his daughters face made it all worth it. other than you, Florence was the best thing to ever happen to him. before her, he didn’t really care about being a dad. it wasn’t something he had ever thought about. but that sunny Friday afternoon, the day you told him, showed him the positive test, he never thought he could love someone as much as he loved her.

“dada” Florence said as she looked up at him and lifted up a purple octopus for him to take. “oh thank you angel” he took the toy from her small hand. Joe watched Florence with the softest smile, she was the most adorable thing ever and he couldn’t get over the fact that you guys had made something so beautiful. Florence paused playing with her toys and yawned. Joe knew exactly what that meant, she only yawned when she needed a nap, it sounded odd because everyone yawns but the little eye rub after her yawn made it obvious. she was tired.

after waking up early (6:37am to be exact but who was checking? definitely not Joe) eating breakfast and all this playing in the pool, the girl had worn herself out. “come on sweetheart, you look like you’re about to fall asleep” Joe said as he stood up, picking up her few toys and shoving them in her pockets and then bending down to pick her up. she had her small arms lifted in the air, her eyes squinting as she looked up at Joe.

he picked her up and made his way back over to you. you where laying on the sun lounger now reading a book with your airpods in. you noticed Joe walking back with Florence hugging him tightly. you took one airpod out and smiled at the two of them. “you okay?” you asked, sitting up. Joe picked up the towel that was on his sun lounger and wrapped it around both him and Florence. “yeah, she just got tired. i mean, it’s around the time she usually has a nap isn’t it?” you looked at the time in your phone and nodded. “yeah, she’s actually stayed awake a lot longer then i thought she would”

Joe sat laid down on the sun lounger, making sure Florence was comfortable before he started running his hand up and down her back and through her hair. it didn’t take long for her to fall asleep, her breathing slowed and she was completely relaxed against him so you went back to your book, letting the two of them have their moment.

it was about 10 minutes after Joe and Florence had sat down and the soft snores was the only thing you could hear from the two of them, it didn’t take long for Joe to fall asleep. he was just as tired as Florence was. you turned your attention to the two of them and felt your heart melt. your two favourite people in your company were the moments you treasured the most.

-♡-

“come on Joe i know it takes ten hours to do your hair but we are gonna be late” you said jokingly as you picked up Florence who was dressed in a white dress with the cutest sandals you’d ever seen, it was the last night in Italy before you went home tomorrow night and you wanted to do something special for Joe. he had planned this whole trip for you, knowing you needed a break from your town and the paparazzi (it’s not like you hit a break from that because they followed you everywhere!).

he needed to be appreciated just as much as he appreciated you and sometimes you struggled to do that with Florence. you weren’t saying that you didn’t love being a mum because you did, however sometimes you and Joe hardly spoke to each other because you were so focused on her.

“i’m coming honey, sorry” he came out of the bathroom with his hair perfectly styled, per usual, and he was wearing a comfortable but smart outfit. black jeans, blue t-shirt, let’s just say he looked perfect. he sat on the bed and put on his trainers and started doing the laces up, he stood up and kissed you on the cheek “you look beautiful baby” you smiled and thanked him with a a passionate kiss.

“and look at my angel” he took Florence out of your arms gently “you look perfect my sweet girl” he kissed her cheek a few times which made her squeal and hide her face in his neck. “right, let’s go, we can’t be late for whatever your mama’s planned can we?” you had seen a a popular restaurant all over social media which about fifteen minute walk from the hotel you were staying at which you also remembered was Joe’s favourite. he had been to Italy a few times and had always gone there with his friends and you had told him a few months ago when planning this trip that you couldn’t get a reservation which he was actually a little upset about. you and him hadn’t ever been there together and he wanted to take you there because he knew you’d love it. it was a surprise for him that you actually did get one. it wasn’t the best surprise out there but you knew it would mean something to him.

as the two of you walked hand in hand, Joe had Florence on his shoulders laughing as her dad played around with her. after about twenty minutes (due to Joe messing about) you guys approached the small town where the restaurant was and Joe’s eyes lit up, he could see the restaurant sign and turned his head to look at you.

“are we going in there?” he squeezed your hand slightly as his body filled with excitement. “yeah, i got us a reservation and wanted to surprise you. it’s not a huge thing but i knew you would like it” his heart melted, that’s one thing he loved most about you. always remembering the little things he had said and trying your best to get those things sorted. he had said about going here ages ago and honestly he had forgotten about it but you, you didn’t and you made sure you got one.

“aww honey, that’s so sweet of you” he let go of your hand and pulled you into his side and wrapped his arm around your waist. he kissed your cheek softly as the two of you continued walking towards the busy looking restaurant.

once sat inside the restaurant you sat opposite Joe with Florence in a high chair at the end next to both of you. she was babbling away in her own little language. Joe replied to everything she said as if he knew what she was saying but it made her happy, she had a smile on her face showing her four small teeth. “last night in Italy. is it bad that i want to live here forever?” Joe said as he turned his attention back to you.

you shook your head “no, it’s beautiful here” you smiled, if you could move to Italy you would, the houses were beautiful, the people were lovely, the views were gorgeous, so what was stopping you?. “maybe we could move here. i mean, not now obviously but sometime in the future we could” Joe said as he ran a hand through his hair.

“also just changing the subject, i really appreciate you doing this for us” he started but you rolled your eyes jokingly “Joe, all i did was make a reservation it’s not that big of a deal” you laughed but he took ahold of your hand and looked at you “it is to me. you went out if your way to get us in here and that’s just a small piece of what you do for us. you take care of flo when i’m away working which fucking kills me but you keep it together, make sure she’s okay and even make sure i’m okay and i’m not even there before you make sure you’re alright yourself. when we are at home together the only time we see each other is when we are in bed and at that point one of us is usually asleep. i know you miss up our date nights and even just being together in general” he was stroking your hand gently as he spoke.

“this vacation has been the best thing for us because we’ve actually spent time together which we rarely do. we have completely different schedules so i know it’s hard but after this movie is over i’m taking a break and i’m going to focus on you and flo. you’re my main priority and i need to spend time with you.” he kissed your hand and smiled.

“we do need to spend more time together and i do miss our dates, they were my favourite” his smile softened and his grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly. “i know, so that’s what we are doing. i’ll get someone to look after Florence and we will do something together” with happy your heart melting you leaned over the table enough to kiss him. you could feel him smile into the kiss which you always loved him doing, you didn’t know why, you just did.

“i love you” you said as you pulled away to sit back down “i love you more” you felt your cheeks heat up. you heard a small whine from the little lady who was sat next to you which made you both turn to look at her. she had the smallest frown on her face which made both you a Joe laugh “and we couldn’t forget our favourite girl” he said pulling her out of her high chair and placing her on his lap, smothering her with small kisses which made her giggle, making your heart melt at the sight. your favourite people in the world.

[sanguineterrain]

dc masterlist

ONE-SHOTS.

✩ window pains. ─ jason todd x gn!reader

he's got a habit of coming in through the window. you want him to start staying... and using the door. (angst, fluff, pining, injured jason, tending to wounds, feelings).

✩ sunset anew. ─ dick grayson x fem!reader

you're a little nervous to become the mrs. grayson. luckily, your husband-to-be knows just what to say to soothe your worries. (wedding, fluff, anxious reader, insecure dick, so much soft intimacy)

✩ the teeth you know. ─ vampire king!dick grayson x fem!reader

the war between the humans and the vampires has lasted for a year now. when you fled gotham, you thought that would be the last time you'd see the vampire king and the love of your life, dick grayson. you were wrong. (SMUT 18+ only, manipulative dick, dreams, oral f receiving)

✩ savior. ─ jason todd x gn!reader

red hood is the stuff of nightmares. red hood is no hero. red hood is your best friend. (angst, reader is afraid of red hood and they discover that he's jason, injured and kidnapped reader, emotional hurt no comfort.)

✩ in your hands. ─ jason todd x gn!reader

jason thinks he's too big to be loved. you show him that that's impossible. (bathing together, sad jason, brief dissociation, i hc jason to have body dysmorphia and i wanted to explore that, non sexual nudity, washing your partner, bruce angst, hopeful ending.)

✩ restroom attendant. ─ jason todd x fem!reader

tonight is the worst night ever—you just got dumped on your birthday, and all you want to do is cry in the restaurant bathroom in peace. that is, until, the red hood bursts in. this city just won't cut you a break. (humor, flirting, meet ugly, awkward cute jason, canon typical violence)

☆ angel of small death. — jason todd x gn!shadow monster!reader

you can't remember what it was like to be human. until jason returns. now, he's the only thing tethering you to this world. and you won't let anything happen to him. (monster!reader, canon-typical violence, codependency, stalking, suicidal thoughts, somewhat happy ending.)

☆ crushin'. — jason todd x gn!reader

barbara invites you to dinner with the bats. she's done so before, and you've always declined, but this time, you agree because the bat you've had a crush on for ages will be there. little do you know, the only reason he's staying for dinner is because of you. (mutual pining, crushes, jason is a sweetie, matchmaking, dick is a meddling brother with good intentions)

☆ most normal thing in the world. — jason todd x gn!reader

you get hit with a love spell. naturally, the first person you seek out is jason todd. (love spell, mutual pining, love confessions, jason todd's endless self deprecation)

☆ in the buff. — jason todd x gn!reader

the one where you learn firsthand that jason todd sleeps in the nude. (fluff, humor, love confessions, friends to lovers, nudity)

☆ knight in shining helmet. — jason todd x fem!princess!reader

you're a princess who's visiting gotham. you weren't loving it to begin with—then you of course had to get kidnapped. you're hoping that you'll be rescued by the famous batman. instead, it's the infamous red hood that finds you. (kidnapping, meet ugly, strangers to something more, soft jason, roman holiday vibes).

◇ knight!jason universe - in which you're given to knight!jason as a present (light dubcon elements)

intro post | you make dinner for jason

-> temptation (smut 18+, dubcon voyeurism, religious guilt read the tags!!)

-> a bloody vow (violence, eroticism, part 2 of temptation)

BLURBS.

ALL READERS ARE GN UNLESS NOTED OTHERWISE

-> DICK GRAYSON.

"this is real. i'm real. look at me."

"can you walk? i need you to walk."

dick catches you when you trip and fall

"you matter so much to me."

you meet the yj team for the first time and have a panic attack

dick cuddles you after he returns late from patrol

you try to break up with dick when your insecurities overwhelm you

dick and assistant!reader who has a secret nightlife

-> JASON TODD.

"i thought you were scared of heights."

reader calls jason in panic when they are chased by a goon

"you're just going to leave me here?!"

awkward jason with a big crush on baker!reader

you break up with jason after he almost dies | part 2 (completed)

playfighting with jason turns into something else (NSFW, fem!reader)

jason rescues you after you have a fight (fem!reader)

jason asks his family to help after you, his fiance, are kidnapped

you forget to text jason you're home safe and he panics

you comfort werewolf!jason during a shift

you are jason's ex and have to work with him on a mission

headless horseman!jason gives you a ride home

"why not them, why me?"

you find a werewolf in your shed who has a dead boy's face

you and jason fight and he thinks you broke up

devoted jason who just wants to be yours

jason tells you that he's asexual

you give bodyguard!jason a gift | you defend him at a gala

you're a vigilante who's after the red hood | pt 2 | pt 3

fussing over jason after he's shot in his bulletproof vest

boxer!jason protects you from a creep

you're a reporter who's under red hood's protection | part 2 | part 3

a stranger thinks you're in danger with your boyfriend, jason

introducing naps to jason (hc)

you bring home a baby and insist on keeping her

jason loves his childhood crush's new curves, make no mistake

jason takes care of you when you're high on pain meds

you meet jason as a civilian when you're both held hostage

virgin!jason comes fast (hc)

jason will keep you safe by any means necessary (dark content)

-> TIM DRAKE.

mauling jason (in a sexy way)

your bff is back and insists she's not the girl you knew (female!jason)

you have insomnia and run into tim in the yj tower

-> CLARK KENT.

holding hands while walking with clark

giving clark a massage when he's stressed

clark is scared when he finds out he's going to be a dad

you politely reject superman (you're dating clark kent!)

-> BRUCE WAYNE.

the JL discovers that batman is married... to you

[sideeve]

“TIS’ THE SEASON”

ingredients :: feral!v , fem!reader , sorta br*eding k*nk , mating press , v’s species has a monthly mating season so he’s just very…yeah

notes :: i’ve come to the conclusion that i’ll only post once in a while due to my mental health and current state (not like anyone cares) . but in case that does change, i’m taking requests for csm, dbh, arkham saga, tlou, insomniac’s spider man (peter , mj , harry only !!), dmc (dante, nero, and v), tomb raider, shameless , (i’d only to fluff for debbie and carl and platonic for ian but smut for lip and fiona)

“don’t—don’t move.” v seethes, holding you close to him. today would make the 31st day of you and him going at it like rabid dogs. this is the consequence of you being romantically involved with someone not fully human.

you were supposed to be sending your holiday with v, exchanging presents, cuddling up next to the fireplace while nursing a cup of hot cocoa. but instead, v’s primal instincts got to the best of him. he had promised you that he would control his urges and spend his first christmas with you. but now, your bra and underwear have been long forgotten on the floor.

all it took was one sneak peek under your shirt as you tried to put the star on the top of the tree for v to charge you, pinning you on the couch.

“you promised.” you whine, his cock slowly sliding in and out of you. his face contorts, his nose being scrunched as his eyes are screwed shut. “i’m sorry, love. i tried, believe me.”

though you were upset, his length pumping into you made your anger wash away. you should’ve grown accustomed to it by now—the way his hands harshly gripped your hips as he pistons himself into your backside.

your cunt watered around him, begging for him to move faster. “once i put a baby in you, we won’t have to do this ever.” he whines, your fluttering walls cocooning around his cock. v never wanted to be harsh to you while performing sexual acts. but he couldn’t hold back.

it felt like he was injected with an aphrodisiac that turned him into a savage. just the touch of your skin turned his body into flames.

“i swear to god if you don’t—agh!” a sharp thrust duds your sentence, your body screaming with pleasure. each of his thrust has a hint of fervor and feral emotion to it. the tattoos on his body were beginning to fade, his hair turning white.

“fuck!” his head hangs low as he watches himself disappear in you. it was beautiful. it was entertaining to see how well you could take him. he could feel his orgasm creep up on him, the feeling becoming unbearable. his grip on your hips tightened, his thrust becoming unrhythmic and animalistic. “fuck, love.”

your release showers his lower body, your back arching off the couch. the sound of you and v’s sin making contact intensifies as he releases his load into your abused cunt. “shit—”

he doesn’t fully stop—just slows his movements until they come to a halt.

“v?” he raises his head, his dark eyes meeting yours. “yes, my love?” you sit up on your elbows, “why are you still hard?” you try not scoot back a little but your attempt was hopeless. he pulls you closer by your hips as he leans closer into you. “when have we only gone one round?”

sorry if it’s not descriptive enough. someone’s in a writers block.

[decaf-mother]

Your First Valentine's Day Together

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MDNI

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Creepypasta Head-Canons

-

GN/Reader

Warnings: None

-

Jeff The Killer

Forgot it was valentine's day and last minute grabbed something from the gas station. Thinks most Valentine's stuff is over priced and cheesy anyway.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Y/N." "Is this... A bag of chips..?"

Jane The Killer

Absolutely loves spoiling you and doing cute things for you, so there's a day dedicated to that??? Sign her the fuck up! She arranges to take you to a cute cat cafe and insists on paying for everything, seeing you smile is worth every penny.

"Jane you really didn't have to do all this!" "I just love making you smile."

Nina The Killer

Best. Day. Ever. She will be so excited to surprise you with a bunch of clothes she ordered online that's your style! Doesn't want to get any stereotypical things for you for Valentine's, only stuff she knows you'll enjoy.

"Ahhh! Y/N look at this cute shirt I bought you! I can't wait to see you wear it!~" "Another one???"

Toby Rogers

Is bouncing off the walls excited for Valentine's Day. Is VERY cheesy about it and probably absolutely buries you in every cute stuffed animal he could find. Will curl up and watch cheesy romance movies with you all day while munching on the chocolates he got for you.

"Y/N! Y/N!" "OH MY GOD TOBY IS THAT A GIANT GIRAFFE PLUSHIE?!?"

Clockwork

Teases you if you want to celebrate Valentine's Day, calling it cheesy and too lovey dovey. However secretly she loves it, but she's not going to tell you that- at least not yet. So, you're in charge of planning your date together.

"Oh really? You go for that cheesy crap?" "Come onnn! It will be fun! Please!"

Eyeless Jack

Jack doesn't get many chances to act like just a person anymore, so when Valentine's Day rolls around he wants to take the chance to just act like a normal couple would. He plans a quiet dinner just you two in his room, enjoying feeling human again. Just for today- you are just two people in love.

"Do you like the candles, Y/N?" "I love them. It's perfect."

Laughing Jack

This clown has no earthly idea what he's doing. He just straight up throws you a "Valentine's Party" like it's a birthday. It's sweet though. He's trying his best- even though he invited everyone so you two don't really get any time alone.

"Surprise Y/N!!!" "AH! Is that heart shaped confetti?!?"

Ben Drowned

Simply plans a gaming date for the two of you with lots of gummy worms. This really is just a normal day with him but he claims it's special because he won't hog all the gummies this time.

"C'mon! It'll be fun! Why go out when we can just stay right here?" "Fine... Move over."

Hobo Heart

Tries to plan something special for you two but has no idea what to do. He just wants you to love it! Finally settling on just a nice quiet coffee/tea date with just you and him. Cuddled up in the library reading books.

"Romance or Fantasy, Y/N?" "Why not both?"

Slenderman

Doesn't fully understand the concept of the holiday but isn't going to pass up a chance at treating you. He plans a lovely romantic evening in the underworld with dinner and wine. The man is a complete gentleman.

"Is this alright, Y/N?" "It's wonderful."

Zalgo

You want to spend Valentine's Day? With him? He finds the idea amusing at first but finally gives in, taking you out on the town in the underworld. Showing you off and buying you fancy clothes.

"Everything simply looks stunning on you!~" "Oh hush..."

Nathan The Nobody

He hasn't the faintest clue how to celebrate Valentine's Day with you but he knows he wants too. He simply comes to you and asks what you'd like to do.

"Want to just watch movies together?" "I'd like that very much, Y/N...."

The Puppeteer

Brushes off Valentine's Day. What's the point in something like that? You already have the perfect gift, getting to spend time with him! What more could you want???

"Pup, please!!! I just want to do something fun with you!" "This IS fun!"

Judge Angels

Takes the holiday very seriously, almost too serious! She insists she must make it absolutely perfect for you because you deserve it. Expect a fancy date and lots of dancing lessons, she loves dancing with you.

"Take my hand, Y/N." "You really went all out, didn't you?"

Bloody Painter

He makes you both some tea and you two spend a whole day in his studio. Laughing and cracking jokes while he paints a portrait of you, even offering to give you painting lessons. You just enjoy a lovely date full of giggles and messy paint.

"Aw, Y/N. You got paint on your nose." "Oops-"

Nurse Ann

She doesn't really talk much so she expresses her love for you through lots of hugs and attention. Quality time means the world to her so you two end up in the kitchen cooking together, after all a meal always tastes better if it's made with love.

"....." "I love you too, Ann."

Kate The Chaser

She doesn't exactly celebrate the holiday. She kind of just awkwardly offers you whatever she found in the pantry and hangs out with you for the day. It takes a long time for her to open up.

"Thank you, Kate." "..... No problem."

Homicidal Liu

He loves you dearly and wants you to always know that. He plans a beautiful picnic date at night, that way you two can gaze at the stars and tell each other what you see. Expect a dance in the moonlight, the crickets serving as your symphony. It feels like it's just the two of you in the world.

"This is so beautiful, Liu." "Almost as beautiful as you."

-

{More Content}

[aziraphales-library]

Hi! First of all: Thanking all the Mods for all of your hard work, because I love and appreciate this blog and everything that goes into it!

Second: Can you recommend fics where Crowley and Aziraphale go house hunting, either individually or as a pair?

Hello! We have some house hunting fics here, and I've got some more now...

A Cottage, a Couple, and a Day in the Life of a Real Estate Agent by AnonymousDandelion (G)

Lori hadn’t even realized she had any clients on the schedule for this afternoon — all her other appointments had called to cancel at the last minute — until the calendar notification had popped up on her computer reminding her that she had not one but two showings coming up soon. Thank God for calendar reminders, because there was no way she'd ever have remembered on her own; embarrassingly enough, even after the reminder, she still hadn’t recognized either of the names. Clearly, both clients must have independently scheduled their appointments over the phone — Lori had no communication record in her email, just their names and contact info in the calendar entry — but apparently she’d been so fully zoned out that not only had she taken no notes and accidentally double-booked without realizing it, the entire conversation had completely and utterly slipped her memory. Five years working in real estate, and this was the first time this had ever happened to Lori. She really needed to start getting more sleep. ~ ~ ~ In which Lori shows a cottage in the South Downs, and has a Time of it. No human realtor should have to deal with these two clients. Lori does her best.

Selling South Downs by Pixiefairy15, Slurpi13 (T)

For Sale: Beautifully maintained 3 bedroom thatched cottage nestled in the heart of the South Downs. On paper, they were perfect. A middle-aged couple, looking for a holiday home in a quiet village in the South Downs. Picky was the wrong word to describe what they were. They were never impolite or demanding, never threw a tantrum over something outside of my control like some previous clients had. They were just… odd. An estate agent helps Aziraphale and Crowley search for their dream home, becoming increasingly exasperated at their nonsensical requirements and strange behaviour as they reject house after house.

Just Right by EdosianOrchids901 (T)

Inspired by newfound freedom and his deepening relationship with Aziraphale, Crowley longs for more space. He suggests that they buy a cottage together, and Aziraphale is thrilled at the idea. But can they find a cottage that is just right?

The Wanting Comes in Waves by skimmingthesurface (T)

Looking at cottages in the South Downs should be fairly simple for one angel and demon who've seen their fair share of residences across centuries, but although they want to take this step to bridge the two halves of their side in the years after stopping Armageddon, there's still a wanting that's tucked away, that they wouldn't dare let see the light of day just yet. Though, their estate agent believing them to be married might not give them much of a choice in the matter.

post-professional endeavours by darcylindbergh (T)

Retirement is a four-letter word.

A Narrow Escape to the Country by shaggydogstail (T)

Crowley and Aziraphale appear as house hunters on BBC daytime institution, Escape to the Country. They are incredibly annoying. Sympathies, please, for the unlucky producer who is not getting paid enough to put up with their nonsense.

- Mod D

[reborrowing]

Hands of Fate

so, gt soulmates huh? a concept that could turn into a full story, maybe, where humans don’t get soulmates. usually.

Fate wasn’t fair.

In most ways, it couldn’t be predicted much better than the weather or your hosts’ comings and goings. It was fickle and anything you thought you saw coming turned up on its own twisted terms.

As the sun went down over an old farmhouse, a young borrower beneath the floor woke up with a prim white handmark on her forearm, a sign that she was soon to meet a soulmate. She was seventeen, a good age for that sort of thing, and her family living with her in the walls of the old house was all abuzz with celebration and speculation.

Her siblings all pressed their own hands against the mark to try to imagine what sort of person the soulmate might be—young or old, male or female, delicate or rough. Her uncle and grandparents argued about whether it meant Stepha would be leaving or a stranger would come creeping into the walls of the old house, and which would be better for the lot of them. Once a mark appears, fate starts to pull you into place to make sure the two of you will meet. That was the whole point of the old magic—to ensure that no borrower ever got too isolated.

Excitement spread through each crack and crevice of the old house until all the hidden little households heard the news. Very little ever changed in the quiet eaves where they lived their lives so rumor of a newcomer was hot news indeed. All were happy to titter on about planning a welcome party of some when the time came, gathering the families like it was a holiday. It was unlikely they’d actually pull anything so grand, but for now the musty walls were full of congratulations and excitement.

Cob, meanwhile, seethed.

He had grown up hearing about the heroic rescue from a flooding storm drain that brought his parents together and the garden walk where his aunts Kit and Melly stumbled into each other under a romantic rain of cherry blossom petals. He had admired the bond between Mix and Daisy, not romantically inclined, but so close they could outwit the and outmaneuver the neighbor’s cat without speaking a word to the other. Even the souls-tied rivalry between his grandmother and the garden trader was endearing, in its way. The connection soulmates had was deeper and more enduring than that in any relationship without…and Cob was still waiting.

It was childish to be jealous, he knew, but the bitterness was not so easily dismissed. He was old enough now to consider seeking out a partner in a more mundane manner before he missed his chance at raising a family of his own.

Why would Fate send a newcomer to his baby cousin instead of to him? It was well past his turn, wasn’t it?

Fate wasn’t fair and it seemed to have a grudge against Cob.

Rather than get caught sulking, he volunteered to go out and see if he couldn’t find something fresh and sweet to bring to the gathering. That took his mother by surprise, since Cob rarely went out into the house unless someone dragged him.

It was a decent trek down into the kitchen and it felt good to stretch his legs and get away from talk of soulmates. His agitated mood started to relax as he rappelled down the spice rack to look around the counter for a good prize. He imagined the best food would be in the fridge, but he didn’t have a good way to open it on his own. Instead he crept toward a wooden bowl on the other end of the room that ought to have fruit of some sort. Maybe, so long as no one made a habit of it, he could get away with slicing away a bit of apple or…

The bowl was lighter then it looked and tipped over when he tried to climb its side, flinging out its precious contents. Cob scrambled back to avoid getting trapped underneath. A pair of apples rolled to the floor and bounced heavily across the hardwood, easily audible in the next room over.

Cob hurried to get out of sight as he heard the door. He hid in the shadows behind the toaster as the rest of the room lit up with electric light. His heart raced. He clenched his teeth so hard to keep quiet, he thought his molars might crack. His gear was still hanging down the spice rack in plain sight to anyone who thought to look Loud footsteps drew near and with them, the looming giant. Cob closed his eyes, lest the reflections give away his position, and mouthed a quick prayer to any power that might care to help keep him hidden—though Fate was the only one he knew by name. Thankfully, someone answered.

The human picked up the mess and walked off without even glancing in his direction, muttering something unintelligible as they turned off the light and retreated to the other room. Cob breathed out a sigh of relief but his skin still prickled and burned with fear and shame over nearly getting caught right after lashing out that anyone would question his competence. Today had gone so badly that it made him feel ill. Cob hastily made his way back home, suffered through dinner, and went straight to bed.

He woke up to a whispering crowd gathered around her hammock. His father shook her and wanted to know what had happened to her in the kitchen the previous night. He scowled tiredly. He was still hot, almost feverish, and he wanted nothing more than to roll back over fall back asleep. Someone grabbed his arm and he thought his heart might stop.

His whole right forearm was newly white—as was the rest of the arm and the entirety of his left. He inhaled sharply as he ran his now-pale hands over the new development and nervously pulled up his shirt. His skin glistened soulmark white from the neck down. He’d never seen anything like it. No one had ever even heard of such a thing. This wasn’t a handprint from another borrower’s touch, the mark was everywhere.

And there, on his chest, was the faint whorl of a human thumbprint.

Fate had decided that his destiny was intertwined with a human, for good or for ill, til death do they part.

-

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