#turning off the logic for a little bit

[i-want-to-be-spaghettified]

Time to swap out stressed scientist that’s lacking in the sanity and sleep departments for the author with too many stories in her head and a hobby of killing off loved characters for fun and debating philosophy at 3am running on too much coffee and too little sleep

[barzfrommarz]

I’ve been seeing a lot of discussions/discourse on tumblr and twitter surrounding kamala/voting for kamala so I want to put my two cents in as someone who will have no actual influence towards the outcome of the election

(important parts with be in bold)

Let’s look at the hypothetical that trump wins because the vote was split or people simply just refused to and kamala didn’t gain enough votes to win.

In the scenario, I want every person who decided it would be better not to vote or vote for a random third party candidate who has no shot at winning who only comes up during election years to say all of the “not like the other guys” talking points to explain to not just me but every queer, trans, disabled, non white, AFAB person who is now at severe risk why you chose to not vote to help them have rights. I want to see your explanations if trump wins. you also cannot use Palestinians suffering to make yourself seem better than you actually are

My point is that if trump wins because your delusions lead you to believe that you can single handedly change the way elections work in this country by “sticking it to the dems” and trump wins and we become a facist state, I want to hear what you have to say when we all start loosing rights and palestine gets wiped off the map

“Well we won’t let that happen” Good fucking luck. In project 2025 im pretty sure there is a section about how we basically won’t be able to protest anything anymore, not only that im also pretty sure trump has talked about deporting pro palestine protesters specifically!

You cannot be a single issue voter in this election and in many elections to come. Change doesn’t happen overnight and you need to wake up and realize that kamala will be the start of actually getting more progressive candidates and policies even if it’s not enough right now at this very moment. We all have to actually start putting in the effort instead of sitting around on our asses complaining

If we get kamala in, we won’t have to worry about our country becoming a facist state therefore we can worry more about palestine and putting more pressure on the dems than there already is. That should be a no brainer to some of you

This post isn’t praising kamala or trying to idolize her in anyway, always be critical of politicians. This post is more of a message to the preformative leftists on tumblr and twitter who have zero knowledge on how the US government works.

It’s kamala or trump this november. We cannot change that less than 100 days away from election day

Should I repeat myself? I hope you can understand that.

I’m not trying to bash anyone for continuing to put pressure on kamala and the dems for being complicit in bombing children. That’s not who my post is about like I already said

I think that all the protests outside of the DNC are especially important because it shows we have not forgotten and will continue to put pressure on the dems to do the right thing for once

but like I already said, it’s kamala or trump. Third party candidates are either grifters who only are there to get money and trick gullible leftists or candidates who have never been in any lower level political positions who think they can automatically garner a shit ton of support to win when they can’t. Your other option is to not vote which is arguably worse

I’m not trying to be the one to change anyones mind but I hope this post can help you reconsider your options and start facing the reality of this election

You have an important choice to make this november. I hope you can make the right one

edit: im not trying to beg anyone to vote for kamala or make anyone who is against her because of her handling of Palestine vote for kamala, especially if you are Palestinian yourself. Im not trying to make anyone feel bad about it either. Thats not the point of this post. The point is that change needs to happen now and this election is a perfect start to do so. We cannot have good change under a second trump term. I know im just repeating myself at this point but I want to put this out there incase I come off wrong or offensive. Also, I dont like the dems at all. I dont align with their party but you shouldnt even care abt what party I align with most. Im not a pro activist whose been in the game for 10+ years, im just a trans boy who has essentially been forced to pay attention to the shit going on in the country because of who I am even though it shouldn't concern me nearly as much as it does.

second edit: check out this tiktok and this persons other tiktoks abt palestine and kamala

[iorekbyrinson]

thoughts on bcs characters and their pullman-universe daemons

James McGill - Weasel or stoat family. The long sleek shape of the mustelid can squirm through any hole after its quarry, taking down prey several times its size. Folklore associations with being untrustworthy, unscrupulous, despite its diminutive size. Also known as the family from which Pantalaimon, daemon of Lyra Silvertongue, heralds from - associations of the protagonist.

Kim Wexler - Jackal. A desert animal with associations of the howling prairies, independence, a looming threat in a familiar canid form. However, jackals have a little known quality of centring the majority of their social behaviour around a monogamous relationship; marking out territory together, forsaking packs mostly for the pair bond. Cunning, determined, opportunistic.

Chuck McGill - Porcupine. Like all Rodentia, porcupines are intelligent and frugal, not carnivorous by nature but certainly with enough natural advantages. Unusual tree-dwellers that live far above the rest of the creatures on the forest floor, the porcupine's most notorious trait are its barbs, shaped so that they stick in the skin and cannot be pulled out.

Howard Hamlin - Golden retriever. Exactly what it appears to be to a fault, the ubiquitously loved animal has a few significant traits; it is above all a retriever, an animal that works in tandem with a master to seek out prey and skilfully return the prize, and any attempts to isolate this intensely social breed go awry - the animal withers away.

Nacho Varga - Rusty-spotted cat. The smallest wildcat in the world, to mistake this feline for its domesticated counterpart is a mistake; it is a predator of its lands, feeding on rodents and any creature beneath it, and has the hallmark of being one of the most successful predators relative to its size in the world. However, this elusive, nocturnal little wildcat has its weaknesses as a daemon; it will not stop until it is at the top of its food chain, even if it exists in an ecosystem where it will be swallowed alive. It has the typical feline traits of aloofness, independence, and particularly beautiful eyes.

Lalo Salamanca - Vampire bat. Largely associated with the handsome, deadly supernatural creatures of mythology, vampire bats do, in truth, hold blood as the superior tonic above all, and are also vastly social creatures; grooming, feeding, and raising families within a group that has strong ties to family members, but also makes room for non-relatives too. They hunt entirely in the dark. Like most of the bat family, their need to communicate means their high pitched chirps are constant when flying through the night sky. An unusual daemon for an unusual man; be watchful of his reflection in mirrors. It may not always be there.

Gus Fring - Coati. A daemon can sometimes settle in the appearance of an animal of meaning to an individual; and the mercurial and mysterious Gustavo Fring has inferred the coati's importance as much in his fateful recollection. However, the coati is also no insignificant animal; it is preyed upon by nearly every major predator in the Americas, but the coati has a tough hide attached to its underlying muscles, making it extremely difficult for teeth to get a hold. It is a contained and somewhat elegant looking small mammal with a handsome pair of spectacles around its dark, round eyes, and a reputation for intelligence rivalling that of its opportunistic cousin, the raccoon.

Mike Ehrmantraut - Badger. Whether of the European badger flavour; forest-bears of quiet and solitary pursuits, devoted to the burrows of their families, or of the American type, the fearsome ratel or honey badgers that face down mountain lions without a second look, badger daemons carry the traits of strength, perseverance, and an undeniable aggression that make them the animal that never backs down. Badgers construct setts that go deep below the earth, a vast underground system of resources that belies the staid, unemotional appearance of these creatures. Man + mountain indeed.

[the-moogle-of-your-nightmares]

tfw you're put off by a character you used to like/tolerate in a piece of media you're revisiting, in a different way than other characters you're going 'ugh' or 'HI WHAT THE FUCK' at this time around, and you realize it's because now you've got an abusive ex under your belt that they remind you of and oh that's why lmao

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[xrayspec]

this morning my housemate told me she was cold bc she left her bedroom window open all night and she has now opened the downstairs windows while she's working in her room

[prokopetz]

Something I love about The Far Roofs is how much of a swerve its premise is if you're coming to it uninitiated.

Okay, so there's these talking rats with a culture of swashbuckling heroism – basic Redwall/Reepicheep stuff.

Also, there's a magical realm called the Far Roofs which exists above every human community, and that's where the rats go adventuring; a little weird, but you can see the precedents in popular fiction. It's like wainscot fantasy taken to its logical-yet-absurd conclusion.

By default, the game wants you to play as a fictionalised version of your (presumably human!) self and go up onto the Far Roofs to have adventures with the rats. All right, now it's coming together: it's like isekai fantasy meets The Muppet Show, with you as the obligatory human character, right?

Then we get to the nature of those adventures: the rats have this whole culture built around questing against beings they call "the Mysteries" – beasties with names like Harpy and Goblin and Unicorn. So basically it's a bunch of muppety rats on the roofs fighting Dungeons & Dragons monsters, and you go up and help them do it. Great.

And then you get to what the Mysteries are actually like, and... well, I'm going to let the following excerpt carry the weight here. (This particular bit of text also appears in a previously published work by the same author, so I'm not giving anything away that's still under wraps.)

Unicorn, which is named Numinous, dwells three steps away and beyond the world, but most often in the Farthest Roofs, where the Steppes of the Sky come down to touch the Vast and Earthen Court. There it is stepping upwards from the world, as it has always been stepping upwards from the world, caught in a moment of transcendent glory that does not complete. It simply is. Melanthios heard the footsteps of Unicorn. Melanthios heard the ringing of Unicorn’s bells. So Melanthios chased Unicorn off to the Farthest Roofs, and Melanthios did not return. Anton and Karel, who were his sons, were wiser than their father. They heard the bells but they did not follow. Instead, they memorized the scent. They gathered swords, and ropes, and nets, and they went out. They brought food and water and all manner of gear. They clung to the roofs with all four feet wheresoever after Unicorn they went. It proved no good. Anton looked up, and Karel to his brother. The world came down— That’s what Karel said. He had time to look away. He had time to bury his head in his paws. He did not see the fullness of Unicorn’s presence. He only saw Anton his brother become unreal. In the light of the moment of the Unicorn, Anton became as a paper figure in the fire. His reality burned out. His shadow seared into the roofs behind him. Where he’d stood, for just a moment, the Steppes of the Sky came down to touch the Vast and Earthen Court; and Anton was gone away. So Karel ran and Karel ran and Karel ran from the Unicorn; and all his life, he envied but was more fortunate than his brother.

These are gods. You're going up there to kill God.

Like, it's still silly wainscot fantasy with funny talking rats, but there's that tension. It's like if Fraggle Rock occasionally took a hard turn to serious cosmic horror – Lord Dunsany by way of Jim Henson – and that tonal juxtaposition was treated as something unremarkable.

Basically what I'm saying is go back The Far Roofs.

[slttygeto]

I'd love to see me from your pov — GOJO S.

synopsis: Gojo Satoru seems to struggle with the idea of love and doesn't quite know where to stand. Luckily for him, you're there to soothe his worries every time.

word count: 2,1k

content warning: a tiny bit of angst, but you know me and my love for this man.

note: hi hello there :)! it's October which means it's the 4th year anniversary since the release of ariana's album positions! I adore that album with all of my being, and what better way to show my love than to dedicate some of my favorite songs to my favorite anime men? enjoy reading!

Satoru has never known what love is. His parents’ marriage was an arranged one, his mother’s good looks and her status along with his father’s powerful technique is what brought them together. And nine months later, the wielder of the six eyes was born. Raised in an environment where his father was barely around, the only warmth he’s ever felt was his mother’s hand holding his smaller one as she walks him around the Gojo estate, showing off the boy whose birth altered the balance of the world. 

Then she was off to do her duties as Madame Gojo. 

Satoru remembers his childhood as being extremely dull. He was forbidden from social interactions, was told that they are useless unless the person was of any benefit to him or his powers—which at the time, six year old Satoru didn’t understand but he had no choice but to comply with his father’s words. 

Bright pair of blue eyes would then follow his father’s figure as he made his way towards the sliding paper door, but before he could leave, the tall man turned towards his wife whose eyes remained glued to her lap before announcing. 

“I’ll be off.” Whether that meant for hours, days or weeks, Satoru never knew. 

Logically, that led to the creation of his image on love and marriage. He avoided the two concepts like the plague. Love was always meant to find others before it could even glance his way, and Satoru was okay with that. 

He was okay with spending the rest of his time alone, maybe he would buy a house on the top of a hill and own a nice border collie dog. Perhaps, that dog would show him a little bit of loyalty and love because Satoru feeds it and takes it on walks, but when the sun goes down and the dog goes to sleep, it would be just Satoru and his thoughts. Dying alone sounded scary, but it was better than ending up like his parents.

“Are you okay?” The tall man feels a gentle squeeze on his large hand. Suddenly, he’s pulled back into the present. 

The smell of fresh roses and the cold breeze overwhelm his senses. He blinks and realizes that he must’ve taken off his blindfold somewhere—Satoru can’t remember where, or why he got so lost in his thoughts.

“Satoru?” That voice. That sweet, warm and honeyed voice, barely above a whisper as it calls out his name and he gets another whiff of something—perfume.

Your perfume.

You’re standing next to him, smaller frame and smaller hand squeezing his own and he remembers why he was pulled back into his childhood. 

You had squeezed his hand the same way his mother did. Except this time, you don’t pull away like she does. In fact, you haven't pulled away in years. 

When Suguru left, Satoru was trying to piece himself back together within the confines of his own place. Quiet, cold and unwelcoming. He despised the feeling, it made him feel like shit and Satoru was usually the type to ignore his feelings—so when they come crashing against him in strong waves, the strongest can’t duck down and avoid them, he can’t swim away and find refuge. He chooses to believe that he is his own refuge, even if he’s messy and selfish and quite literally just a jerk. The strongest was unable to save his own best friend from a fate that is so horrible, one that could’ve easily been avoided had he looked harder. 

Had he not been raised that way. 

“Satoru?” 

On a cold October night in 2007, you show up at Satoru’s apartment with food and homemade sweets. You’re sweaty, clearly having climbed up the stairs since you had no access to the elevator. He sees you, he cannot process the reason for your sudden visit until he sees your lip quiver and your eyes fill with tears.

“I’m sorry.” You say with so much emotion that the teenager can only try to stop himself from digging his fingernails into the palms of his hands. 

Although he only realizes it years later, the only person who had shown Satoru that he was worth a bit of love was Suguru. He had been your classmate too, your friend. You’re grieving his absence too, but you choose to stay with Satoru that night. He doesn’t say much, you don’t press him about it. 

He doesn’t understand why. 

A couple of months pass, your visits become more regular. He buys you a mattress and even suggests you move in with him in the guest room of his apartment. And after much consideration, you agree and the two of you become roommates.

What had once been a cold, uncomfortable apartment slowly turns into a refuge for Satoru, a place he looks forward to coming back to after a long day of missions. Was it because of the smell of food that fills the hallway as he approaches the door, or the thought of finding you in there when he inserts the key? Satoru isn’t sure yet.

He’s still a bit confused as to why you want to be around him.

Months turn into years, your presence remains a constant in his and Megumi’s lives when he takes him in. You have your own room that you choose to share with Tsumiki and you treat the two children like your own. The strongest believes that your heart is as big as the oceans combined.

For someone whose youth was stolen away by the Jujutsu society, Satoru tries to make sure that his students don’t meet the same fate. So he takes on countless missions, protects students like they’re his own children and promises them a bright future. Even if it’s at the expense of his own. 

You hate that, and you make it clear to him the day he takes in Yuuta.

“That’s such bullshit.”

“Hey, watch it.”

“No, you listen to me!” This is the most emotion you’ve shown since that one night you came to visit him. Satoru looks up from his phone where he’s sitting, and is a bit taken aback when he sees your eyes fill up with tears. “Do you realize how dangerous it is to be going around and doing shit like that?” 

“What–saving them?”

“Ruining your future!” You raise your hands in the air. 

“I don’t have a future.” 

The room falls silent. Suddenly, you’re glad that Megumi and Tsumiki weren’t home. Your eyes meet his, and the white haired male watches as your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. There’s a thousand expressions on your face—betrayal? Hurt? Worry? He can’t decipher them.

He is overwhelmed. His six eyes are screaming at him that your cursed energy was elevating, your body temperature was rising and he can see that your chest is heaving. 

He still doesn’t realize what he had just said. 

To him, it was the truth. There was nothing morbid about his words. If he couldn’t see himself marrying or falling in love, then Satoru simply did not have a future. Those children do, and that’s what he should prioritize.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t–”

“Satoru–” you lose your breath as you utter his name, broken and weak. You gulp harshly, heart pounding loudly in your ears. “You can’t say that.”

It’s selfish, you’re aware of that, but it can’t be helped. You watch as the light of the man you had been clinging onto like a lifeline for years starts to dim, and you scramble to find the source of the problem. 

And while Satoru’s six eyes are screaming at him to walk away, his heart pins him to the ground of his living room. Overwhelmed and emotional, it reminds him of that one lonely night. He can’t tell you how he feels, he can’t pinpoint to you that it’s because of his parents that his heart refuses to let him accept the idea of love. He sees the waves coming, large and tall and ready to destroy him years later—as he scrambles to find refuge, his heart finally feels at ease.

Your arms wrap tightly around his middle, chin resting on his shoulder and your hands digging into his shoulders in an attempt to soothe him. You want to stop your chest from stuttering, but your quivering lip gives away your strong emotions. 

“I’ll stay.” 

Why would you stay? 

His arms feel heavy as he lifts them up and finally rests them on your warm body, pulling you so close to him you feel yourself suffocate. It doesn’t matter. Satoru hugs you so tightly that you hear your heart break. 

You don’t comment on the wet feeling on your shoulder, or the way his hands tremble as they grip the back of your shirt. You let him cling onto you as though you were the air he needed to breathe, the warmth he sought in the middle of the coldest nights. 

—

“Thank you.” 

“Hm?” You look to your side, a bit confused. The white haired man thinks you look very adorable when you’re clueless, trying to understand his words. 

“Thank you? What for?” Satoru isn’t one to get nervous, but your stare has him feeling a little hot. He hopes he isn’t blushing, it doesn’t suit his brand. 

“For saying yes.” This time, he is the one who squeezes your hand and you hold back a chuckle at how he avoids eye contact. You squeeze his hand back and lean your head against his shoulder.

“I would be crazy not to marry you.” 

“But you know… given my line of work, and Suguru—”

“Satoru,” you stop the man before he can carry on with his small ramble. You appreciate how vocal he is, it is one of the major changes to his personality ever since the two of you made it official. “I am a sorcerer as well. I understand.”

“You hate the missions I take.”

“I hate the way the higher ups view you, not the missions you take.”

Silence engulfs the two of you. 

You fidget with your hands, feeling as though you might’ve crossed a line your husband wasn’t ready to let you cross yet—

“And you?”

“Huh?”

“How do you view me?” He asks, voice low and small. He still doesn’t look at you, nor does he look anywhere really. Despite being 28 years old, Satoru feels the same way he felt at 6 years old. Vulnerable, worthless and in need of a reminder of what he brought to this world other than his powers–

“You’re handsome.” You break his chain of thoughts with a lot of ease, and he looks up at you with wide eyes. “A handsome, caring young man with a big,” a finger traces his heart over his shirt, “big heart. You have a child-like spirit, and a boy-ish smile that could make anyone fall for you very easily. I don’t want to focus too much on your looks, but they’re unfortunately a huge part of who you are,”

“You’re selfless.” You lean against the balcony railings, staring down at the city. “People take you for granted and either you don’t seem to notice, or you try not to.”

“And last, you’re too good for this world.” 

Your eyes sparkle as you describe every small detail about the man. You pour all of your emotions into your tiny monologue, so you fail to notice that Satoru had removed his hands off the railings. Until you feel something warm on your sides and something heavy on your shoulder. 

“Satoru?”

“I’m fine,” his broken voice would beg to differ, but you don’t push him. You rest your hands on top of his and let him pull you back against his chest in a warm, tight hug. 

He had always wanted to see himself through your eyes, filled with so much adoration and trust that it made his heart burst in his chest. He was riddled with confusion and something he couldn’t quite decipher anytime you had told him ‘of course it was you’ when he would do something nice, or ‘you’re not like that’ when you heard Nanami mumble something about Satoru’s playful behavior. 

You wish you could give him your eyes, take away some of that overwhelming feeling of being the wielder of the six eyes and allow him to rest—see himself as the selfless, kind-hearted man that he was to you. 

Since that was physically impossible, you’ll stick to loving him as though he held the universe between his palms.

You make loving him seem as easy as breathing, and the inner child living deep within him is forever grateful for that. 

2024 © all works belong to @slttygeto. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works.

[flamingpudding]

(Un)fortunate Courting (Request)

Requested by @silverblueglitter

Original Prompt Post this is based on by @diabolichare

A/N: Thank you for the request! I hope this will not disappoint. I am slowly getting back into the grove of writing and out of my block. Also on a side note I am not posting / writing as much right now because work is currently keeping me busy.

Danny was very sure he was doing everything right in regards to ghost culture. Clockwork and Pandora had been educating him very well on that. Sure they did it with some ominous explanation in regards to his future but Danny had shrugged that off. Clockwork had always had a way with words that didn't make sense but somehow did too. Now as he had learned if a ghost wants to cross through another ghosts haunt an offering needs to be made. Ideally the offering is in regards to something the other ghosts likes.

So if he would need, for example, cross through Embers haunt, he would offer her something like guitar strings or something other music related stuff that could be useful to her obsession. With that logic, Danny knew that if he wanted to use the short cut to his collage through Red Hoods haunt he would need to offer the other something. Like he had offered something to Lady Gotham for his stay in Gotham for his collage education. The thing was he would have to offer Red Hood something every time he needed to go through the others haunt, unlike with Lady Gotham who had just accepted a single offer since he wasn't constantly going in and out of her haunt.

But that also left him with what to get the other Halfa as offering.

He had contemplated offering something Red Hood might need for his duty. You know? Maybe some self engineered bullets he could use against ghosts, though Danny knew that was probably unnecessary considering Gotham's protector spirit, Lady Gotham, had a pretty good handle on everything here. Which good, because that meant Danny could fully focused on his studies for once.

That was until Danny realized how much the core of that other Halfa was malnourished. Which gave Danny the perfect chance to catch two ghosts with one thermos, okay bad joke. But seriously, that gave Danny an idea of what to offer for his right of passage through the others haunt. So he made simple care packages that would help the other Halfa. He had thought about supplying some Ecto-Dejecto directly but that felt a little to on the nose and someone who didn't know his family would probably think Danny insane, as if there weren't enough people in his collage thinking that already. Besides he was in Gotham and with villains like Scarecrow and Joker he didn't think a syringe with glowing green contents would be a trustworthy offering.

Anyway, Danny decided to be a bit more discreet, infusing ectoplasm into simple foods, that most importantly, COULD NOT COME ALIVE. So Danny's care packaged ended up consisting of chocolates, snacks and other sweets that would NOT start fighting back. He also figured out how to mix ectoplasm into drinks so it wouldn't taste to overwhelming.

Danny did not anticipate the side effect offerings like that would have or realise what his offerings looked like to someone who did not know about ghost culture.

Jason was torn as he found the n-ed little present box during his patrol route with a little card stating it was for him. He eyed the box having gotten familiar with these boxes over the past month. He lifted the lid and yep.... chocolates.

"Again?" his distorted voice came through his voice modulator as he eyed the chocolates suspiciously. Either he had a very insistent admirer or one of his enemies cooked up a new idea to make him paranoid. Not like his brothers didn't joke about him getting Bruce's paranoia when he had run the sixth box of chocolates through the substance tester to figure out if someone was trying to poison him.

Turned out poison was not in the chocolates but something else. An unknown substance but in small dosages. Jason was currently allowing Tim to run wild in figuring out what was mixed into the chocolates. Also the seasoned vigilante had to admit, that there was something tempting about these sweets. Like something inside him really urged him to eat them. It was only his self-restraint and discipline that helped him resist the urge to taste test some of these chocolates.

Also sometimes there were drink in these packages too. Yes, Jason had run them through the tester too and got the same results like with the sweets and chocolates. No poison but that other strange substance. At first Jason didn't really want to bother with it but these boxes appeared every damn night when he was on patrol, but strangle not on weekend or holidays.

"Oh got another little present, Little Wing!" Jason barely turned around as his older brother dropped onto the roof next to him. "Chocolates this time! How cute! They must really love you!"

Sometimes Jason wished his helmet could portray emotions better as he gave Dick a deadpan stare. "More like wanting to poison me." He muttered his voice changer doing nothing to support the sarcasm in his voice.

"You have to admit it is kind of cute! You have a little fan or admirer! And look these chocolates are even heart shaped! Oh and pralines are in there too!" Dick gushed on about Jason's admirer, while Jason rolled his eyes under his helmet. It would be cute if there wasn't an unknown substance mixed into the stuff left for him. Though he had to admit, whoever left that stuff was getting creative. From what Jason saw they rarely used the same brand of chocolates or sweets to give to him twice. Like they were trying to figure out what he liked. For a brief moment that made Jason wonder, if he actually ate one of these for once, would his admirer present him with the same brand again the next night?

He shock that thought off, no way was he going to eat something with an unknown substance in it. So instead he shoved the box at Dick. "Take that to the cave Dickibird. Gives Pretender more materials to test with."

Dick, to his credit stopped gushing for at that and chuckled. "Can do, but seriously though, what did Oracle say. Did she catch your little admirer on the security cameras at least."

Shaking his head Jason let out a sigh. "No, its like these boxes appear out of nowhere."

"Well at least they are harmless."

"For now." He grunted in response. While they didn't pose a danger, Jason didn't like the implications behind their appearances. For one no matter how much he changed up his patrol routes, these boxes would still appear. There is no video proof of someone placing the boxes. They just appear out of thin air or roofs or his path right when he comes by. If he could believe that the videos that Barbara had showed him weren't manipulated then they just appeared like a couple of seconds before he would find them.

It was suspicious and Jason was determined to find out who leaves them.

Danny hummed his latest earworm song, which happed to be Embers newest hit in the Ghost Zone, as he prepared his next offering to Red Hood. He had thought about leaving these boxes by Red Hoods Safe house during the day on his way to collage but he figured with his own history of being a hero. Secret identities were important and should not be revealed against the others wish.

This time he had gotten the expensive brand of pralines. He hoped Hood would actually like them and eat them hopefully. Danny threaded the moment he would have to try infusing ectoplasm into something other than safe sweets, chocolates and snacks that won't come alive if he didn't find something Hood would eat soon.

The Halfa was so focused on his task of infusing the pralines with ectoplasm that he did not notice the arrival of three of his old ghost rogues, until he got grapped by the collar and throw across his own appartment.

"OW! What the...?!"

"Long Time not seen Pelt." Danny blinked as Skulker stood over him, Ember and Wulf a bit further behind. Wulfs presence explained how the other two managed to show up in his place.

"What are you guys doing here?" He was so not up for a round of ghost body that could potentially destroy his flat.

"Fixing your love life." Ember grinned down at him with Wulf nodding.

"My love life...." Something was definitely wrong. Danny does not remember currently dating anyone. He also didn't have crush, well not a obvious one he thought at least. He was distinctively pushing way that fleeting image of Red Hood out of his mind.

"Yeas your love life Baby Boop." Ember reaffirmed. "Didn't the old ghosts teach you anything. You don't use the human of giving presents when you court a ghost!"

"I... what?" Danny's brain currently really had trouble catching up with what was going on.

"Pelt you need to assert yourself, fight your damn object of attention to proof your worth." Skulker added arms crossed.

"Don't worry we will help you! So you wont fail!" Ember added.

Before Danny could answer or ask what the hell they were going on about though Skulker grabbed him by the back of his collar again and promptly dragged Danny long with him flying out of his flat to who knows where. Distinctive Danny swore he heard laughing that sounded suspiciously like Lady Gotham.

"WAIT SKULKER!" The shout escaped him as his brain finally caught up but before he could go ghost and actually do something he was thrown against someone. Whoever he landed on let out a deep 'oof' that sounded distorted and Danny had a sinking feeling as he hurriedly sat up and came face to face with Red Hood.

"Aw shit...." Danny muttered instantly choosing to turn invisible and hoping that Red Hood had nod seen him long enough to get recognised, worst of all Skulker had dragged him all the way to Hoods haunt when Danny didn't even have an offering! Now he owned Hood two offerings!

"What are you doing Pelt! You are supposed to challenge for the right of courtship first! The courtship presents come later!" Skulker shouted at Danny to which while still invisible Danny choose to flip the other ghost off. Something he would have never done as teen but now that he had come to some sort of understanding with his former rogues was not rare happening, as long as Jazz wasn't there to witness it.

Meanwhile Jason was sitting utterly confused on the roof now, just a moment ago a twig of a man had landed on him and he had seen the other guy for a brief moment before he had disappeared out of nowhere again. He grumbled muttered curses and knew he would have to go though the video footage of his helmet to get a clearer picture of what or rather who had knocked him over.

But he had a feeling it was related to the boxes of sweets and chocolates.

[sushiyuzu]

tipsy

warning: fluff — sylus getting drunk on wine while spending time with you 🍷❤️

- second acc: @blushpawss

clink.

“you’re pouring more?” you raised an eyebrow, watching as sylus gracefully tipped the bottle of red wine into your glass and then his, the deep liquid swirling like velvet under the candlelight.

“just one more glass,” he said with that familiar, smooth voice of his, the tone always so composed, so refined. sylus never really let loose, always the picture of elegance and control. but tonight... tonight felt different.

you both had been sipping wine for the past hour, the conversation flowing as easily as the drink. it had started off casual enough, talking about your day, his business dealings, the usual banter. but now, you were starting to notice the slight pink tint on his cheeks, and the way his eyes seemed just a bit more glazed than usual.

you narrowed your eyes playfully. “are you... drunk?”

sylus raised his glass to his lips, pausing mid-sip as he glanced at you, one brow arched in challenge. “i don’t get drunk,” he said, his voice still smooth, though a little slower than usual.

“oh really?” you smirked, setting your glass down as you leaned closer to him. “because you’re looking a little... tipsy.”

he blinked at you, his eyes slightly unfocused before a slow, lopsided smile spread across his lips—a smile that wasn’t his usual polished one. this was different. softer. and, dare you say, a little sloppy.

“i am perfectly in control,” sylus said, setting his glass down with a little more force than necessary. he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms like he was trying to prove a point, but instead of his usual graceful composure, it just made him look... well, adorably drunk.

you burst out laughing, unable to hold it in any longer. “you are so drunk.”

“i am not!” he protested, his voice rising in pitch slightly, which only made you laugh harder. he frowned at you, but even his frown seemed less intimidating and more... pouty. “i’m... i’m still perfectly capable of making logical decisions.”

“yeah? like what?” you teased, leaning your elbow on the table, resting your chin in your hand as you gave him an amused look.

he paused, clearly trying to think of something, his brow furrowing in concentration. but after a long moment, he just blinked, looking utterly lost, and then gave a defeated sigh. “fine. maybe... maybe i’ve had a bit too much.”

you grinned triumphantly. “i knew it!”

he narrowed his eyes at you, but there was no real heat in them. “you think you’re so clever, don’t you, kitten?”

“maybe.” you shrugged, still giggling softly. “but it’s kinda cute seeing you like this.”

sylus gave you a look, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “cute? i am not cute.”

“oh, you so are,” you shot back, unable to resist the urge to poke him gently in the side. “especially when you’re all flushed and tipsy like this.”

before you knew it, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you closer. “you think you can tease me?” he said, his voice lower now, his breath warm against your cheek as he leaned in, that lopsided smile still in place. “you should know better than to challenge me.”

“oh, is that so?” you laughed, feeling your heart race a little as his fingers slid gently down your arm, his touch light and teasing.

“mhmm,” he hummed, his face now inches from yours, his eyes half-lidded. “maybe i’m not in complete control, but that doesn’t mean i can’t still make you blush.”

you raised an eyebrow, challenging him. “you think you can make me blush?”

“i know i can,” sylus said softly, his voice taking on that familiar smoothness, but with a playful edge now. he leaned in even closer, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “you’re already turning pink.”

you swallowed, your breath catching a little as his warm breath tickled your skin. “you’re imagining things.”

“am i?” he pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting yours, filled with that playful challenge. “let’s see about that.”

before you could react, sylus suddenly stood up, wobbling a little as he did so. you stifled a giggle, watching as he tried to maintain his balance, his usual elegance faltering for the first time. without warning, he took your hand and tugged you to your feet, pulling you into his arms.

“dance with me,” he said, though it wasn’t really a question.

you blinked up at him, caught off guard by the sudden request. “what? now?”

“yes, now,” he insisted, his voice soft but firm, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer against him. “i want to dance with you.”

you chuckled, placing your hands on his chest as you looked up at him. “you can barely stand, sylus.”

“nonsense,” he said, his voice taking on that elegant tone again, though it was clearly affected by the wine. “i can dance just fine.”

he started to sway, his grip on you a little looser than usual, but there was something endearing about it. the way he tried to maintain his composure, even when he was clearly tipsy and not fully in control.

you let out a soft laugh, leaning your head against his chest as you swayed with him. “you’re impossible, you know that?”

“i know,” he murmured, his voice soft and fond. “but you love me anyway.”

you smiled, your heart warming at his words. “yeah, i do.”

he tightened his arms around you, his chin resting on top of your head now as you both swayed slowly to the nonexistent music. for a moment, everything was quiet and peaceful, the warmth of his body against yours, the soft glow of the candles casting gentle shadows across the room.

“you’re everything to me,” sylus whispered after a while, his voice low and sincere.

you lifted your head slightly to look up at him, surprised by the sudden seriousness in his tone. his crimson eyes were soft, his gaze steady despite the slight haze from the wine.

“sylus...” you whispered, feeling your heart skip a beat at the way he was looking at you.

he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before resting his cheek against the top of your head again. “i mean it,” he said quietly. “i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

you felt a lump form in your throat, your arms tightening around him as you pressed closer. “i’m not going anywhere,” you whispered, your voice soft but firm.

he smiled softly against your hair, his breath warm on your skin. “good.”

and just like that, the teasing, the playfulness—it all melted away, leaving only the quiet, deep affection that always lingered between you two. sylus, who was always so composed, so in control, was letting himself be vulnerable with you, even in his tipsy state. and you loved him all the more for it.

“you’re a softie when you’re drunk,” you teased gently, your voice light but filled with affection.

“only with you,” he murmured, his voice filled with warmth. “only ever with you, my beloved.”

[mariasont]

you should do more aaron hotchner x reader but they get drunk together and they just have a make out session or something 🤫🤫

Strawberry Wine - A.H

a/n: i took this the bimbo reader route because i'm slightly obsessed with them lately so i hope you don't mind <3

thank you so much for requesting xoxo

masterlist

₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

summary: hotch is a lot more flirty when he's got some alcohol in him

warnings: kind of suggestive?, flirty hotch, making out, mutual pining

wc: 0.9k

You were vaguely aware of the dizzy sensation taking hold, your steps a little unsteady, cheeks a little more flushed. Penelope's voice, usually so clear, now sound like she was yelling from afar, her excitement over a new cooking show barely registering with you. It all faded into the background as your focus narrowed on one person alone--your boss.

Concentrating on something else was the logical choice, but logic seemed to falter in the face of such distraction. I mean, you had eyes after all.

He looked exceptionally good tonight. Jeans. He was wearing jeans and a zip up. His casual look held an irresistibility about it that you rarely got to appreciate, and now it's all you can dwell on. You could easily blame your preoccupation on a few drinks, but in all honesty, you'd be just as enthralled sober.

Your name was floating through the air, and as you turned, you saw Morgan. His grin was wide, the kind that told you he'd been trying to catch your attention for longer than you'd realized.

His eyebrows lifted, bumping against you with a shoulder as he waggled those same eyebrows. So childish. You knew what he was referring to. He was the first one to catch on to your little crush, but despite his behavior you knew he'd never divulge your secret. 

You nudged him back, not realizing your own strength until you were almost toppling over. You only found your footing when you felt hands on your waist. You leaned back, assuming it was Morgan. You were wrong. 

"You okay?" His voice was soft and low, a soothing sound that tempted you to both lean into him and step back in a fluster.

You glanced around, only to realize that Morgan had disappeared, leaving you with Hotch. You clamped your lips together, fighting the urge to let a stupid smile spread across your face, but the wine's influence made it challenging.

"Yes."

The room spun just a tad more as you tried to focus on Hotch, his usually sharp gaze softened just a bit more tonight. 

He chuckled--a rare, perfect sound that made you tingly all over--and leaned closer. "The wine seems to be doing its job. How many glasses in are we?"

You giggled, but the sound was more like a hiccup. "I should be asking you that," you said with a lopsided smile. "But then again, I guess I mean glasses of scotch, right? You seem like a scotch over wine kind of guy."

"Do I?" His voice was rich and warm. He stepped forward, his eyes briefly flickering to where the rest of the team congregated in Rossi's kitchen. However, they seemed miles away. "You smell good."

His compliment threw you off guard, you blinked, cheeks heating up as you swayed slightly towards him, voice a bubbly stream of words you couldn't control. "You think so? It's actually this new perfume--I got it on sale, can you believe it? And the bottle is just the cutest thing, all pink and pretty."

"I bet." He was smirking. Smirking. You were pretty sure you had stumbled into an alternate reality where Hotch was not just your boss, but someone who was relaxed, almost flirtatious? 

"Here," you said, pointing to the middle of your chest. You were a little breathless, "this is where I spray it."

He gave a low hum, almost inaudible, stepping in until you were toe to toe. You caught the hint of scotch on his breath--just as you had suspected--and it made the room spin a little more. 

His face moved down toward your chest, and you couldn't hardly believe that he couldn't hear your heart pounding against your ribs. 

You inhaled sharply, the valley of your breasts rising to graze against his nose, so lightly that it might have gone unnoticed if not for your intense focus on him. 

"What do you think--?" you started to ask, but as he raised his head, your noses were nearly touching, and the rest of your sentence dissolved.

The realization of how easy it would be to kiss him struck you, tempting and terrifying all at one, and you hesitated, knowing that was one line you shouldn't cross.

But you didn't need to cross it because he obliterated the line with a kiss that thundered against your lips before you could even blink. A smile bloomed against his mouth, and you returned it full force.

It was as if you were tingly from head to toe, like fireworks were exploding all around you, like you were floating on a cloud.

You looped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, as if the space between you could vanish entirely. You felt his broad hands sweep and down your spine, your tongues vying for dominance, the rich, smoky taste of that scotch lingering in your mouth, as if you were absorbing its essence through every five senses.

It was as if you were back in high school, making out under the bleachers, hiding from the rest of your classmates. You didn't want it to end, but reality intruded like a dream dispelled.

The click of a camera snapped you back to the present, his arms still wrapped around you protectively, hands on the damning evidence.

Gathered at the window there the team was, Garcia's fingers curled around her phone, its lens aimed squarely at you. Your surprised came out as a high-pitched squeal mingled with their distance laughter and cheers. You pressed your face into the fabric of Hotch's zip up, silently pleading for the earth to open up and swallow you whole.

"Next time, we'll opt for the bathroom. Less room for an audience."

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[princessbrunette]

when did you know you loved me? pt.4/4 ♡

it was rare bunny!reader and rafe got a day off like this. one where the kook princess’s boyfriend wasn’t running off on business, dragging her along or leaving her to run her own personal errands — like getting her nails done or shopping. today, the two of them relaxed on rafe’s boat in the hazy june sunshine. bunny stares off over the water, pondering..

you’re snapped from your thoughts when rafe arrives at your side, giving your ass a little swat and grab the way he always did as you looked over the ledge across the water.

“you good, kid?” he enquires casually as his hand slides up your back to grasp your shoulder, hooking his sunglasses back into his shirt.

“mhm, just thinking.” you muse, leaning into his side a little. you always went a bit brainless around rafe — it was second nature. he did the thinking, it was his job as a provider — well, that’s what he’d tell you anyway, and he’d drilled it into your head enough times for you to remember it.

“m’yeah? thinking about what?” he converses. he’d always get worried when you looked a little too pensive. rafe was an overthinker like that, the nagging voice in the back of his head telling him not to let you think too hard, because you’d uncover all his flaws and leave him. though you knew that could never be the case, rafe had some unpacked abandonment issues that often sat at the surface.

“us.” you hum simply, and his hand slides off your shoulder.

“well what — what are… why?” he struggles his word his concern, a frown forming between his brows.

“jus’ that i love you a lot, and i was thinking about how much i love you.” you shrug, not taking in the edge in his concerned tone. he relaxes a little, nodding though you weren’t looking his way as he draws in a long breath.

“right, yeah… yeah.” he plays it cool, scratching at his cheek before stepping away in the direction of the mini bar, deciding he needed a drink to take the edge off. “well, daddy loves you too, yeah?”

the casual assurance in his tone makes you bite your lip, gaze snapping over to him as he wanders away — and you speak once more, only wanting to prolong the time spent by his side.

“when did you know that you loved me rafey?” it’s a demure request, spoken hopefully through pouty lips and batting lash extensions. he spins around, blinking at you a few times before shrugging his shoulder.

“look, uh — i don’t know. i just did, alright?” he turns his mouth down like he hadn’t given it any thought and your face falls. you forget rafe wasn’t like you. he was a man of logic. fact over feelings (thats what he’d tell people, anyway.) he didn’t have time to ponder such things.

“oh.” you whisper, nodding your head. it wasn’t a big deal. you just wished he would gush over you the way you did him sometimes. he licks his lips, hesitance in his body language when he turns away once more this time, wishing he never saw that disappointment on your face at the way he brushed you off. he was still trying to get used to the whole being open with your feelings thing. his father hadn’t exactly lead by great example.

he cracks open a beer, and five minutes later he’s lounging on the white couch out on the deck, an arm strewn along the back of the seat and the other holding the bottle, reaching out towards you to gesture you over to him.

“come sit with me, dunno why you’re so far away.” he welcomes you, and you quietly pad over in your pink bikini, never once shying away from the unabashed way he watches your body move towards him. “mm. looking good.” he comments quietly before you’re climbing onto the couch and snuggling up to his side. there was no ‘thanks daddy’ or glossy kisses being pressed into him like usual, you were pensive, distant, thoughtful. he knew he’d brushed you off and you were trying so hard to seem like it hadn’t phased you, bless your little bunny heart. after a sigh, the kook begins to speak.

“it was after the whole thing with me getting arrested. you know the… the thing with the sheriff.” he relays, staring ahead over at the water even when you turned your head to gaze at him, blinking slowly in relaxed confusion as to what he was talking about.

“i…i wanted people to respect me, you know? like- like i had proven that i was willing to do anything to protect the people i care about. anything. enough to get me sent to fuckin’ jail, right?” he rambles, before shaking his head with his tongue in his cheek, thinking. you stay quiet, curious as to where this was going. you wanted to give him space to open up.

“but like…ahh, i don’t know. when i got out, people…people didn’t wanna hang with me anymore. i used to be that guy, right like — like everyone wanted to talk to the rafe cameron but after i got bailed out i… people were scared of me. thought i was some… violent, unhinged creature like… like i was some killer.” he squints, shaking his head in disagreement.

a few moments pass as he gathers his thoughts, before he speaks once more, this time glancing at you.

“so a little while after that i was down at the club, you know just… just tryna socialise again, blow off some steam. shit, i even told everyone that beers were on me, you know? free for everyone at the club. went back to go get my golf club, came back n’everyone had left. clearly they still saw me as some kinda monster.”

whilst you was unclear on why he was telling the story, you remembered clearly this time how hard it was for rafe to drag himself back up. he wouldn’t talk about how hard things were, and sure — eventually things had blown over and he was the life of every party once more, but you remembered the shift in atmosphere clearly. it was strange.

“uh…” he clears his throat. “so yeah i uh, i come back and you’re there, right? you’re just sat there by your self at the table… and shit you… you just looked so happy to see me,” he chuckles, shaking his head fondly at the memory. “like, i had left for two damn minutes and you were still happy to see me. you didn’t even — even care that everyone else had left… and that’s real ride or die shit, okay like — someone… someone who’s not gonna just up and leave you when shit gets tough like sarah did with my dad. nah, nah you stuck around. s’when i knew i wanted to put a fuckin’ rock on that little finger.” he takes your hand suddenly, holding it between the two of you like he’s envisioning the ring on your second to last finger, taking a moment to indulge in the fantasy.

you’re grinning ear to ear, understanding the significance of the story now as you flutter your eyelashes.

“rafey…” you coo softly and he shrugs, his wall fighting to come back up.

“yeah, well. you wanted your story, there’s your story.” he brushes it off casually, but even his lips curl up a little into a fulfilled smirk, catching your gaze with an unspoken awe.

“guess what, i loved you the second i saw you so i win.” you giggle and he rolls his eyes, pulling you into his chest.

“yeah? shit i didn’t know it was a competition.” he banters lightheartedly over your giggles, his cold heart thawing at the sound.

[ashasdiary]

Pumpkin

Pairing: Nanami Kento x fem!reader

Synopsis: Husband!nanami (later father!Nanami) being super domestic during your pregnancy, birth, and arrival of your baby. 

CW: a smidge 🤏🏻 of angst but mainly FLUFF, pet names, established relationship, pregnancy, birth, babies  WC: 1.9k A/N: this is a sequel to Vitamins but can be read as a standalone if the smut in Vitamins is not your jam. Enjoy this fluffy goodness 🥹

Ever since those two tests had very loudly informed you of your pregnancy, Nanami had not let you lift a single finger to do anything. Not that he had even before your pregnancy — your husband’s love language was acts of service — but now? He was very hyperactive in taking care of you. 

“Honey, did you note down the appointment time in the calendar?”

“Honey, did you take your folic acid?”

“Honey, you’ve been on your feet too much today. You need to rest.”

“Honey, do you want me to give you a massage?”

“Kento,” you sigh, “I’m fine, really. It’s still early stages.”

“And you have to be careful during the early stages,” he notes. 

“I know. But you’re also treating me like I’m china and…it’s just…a bit too much,” you say. You didn’t want to tell him this, because you knew he meant well, but you also had to communicate your feelings to him. You were worried he’d be upset when you did, but he looks at you apologetically, seemingly taking it in his stride. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I don’t mean to make you feel…suffocated. I was worried I was being too overbearing, but I wanted to make sure you knew that I want to do as much as I can for you. And the baby,” he explains in one breath. Your eyes soften and you step into his embrace, hugging him tightly, burying your face into his neck. 

“I do. I’ve always known that. I appreciate everything you’re doing for me, but I would also like to do things myself sometimes.”

“I understand. I’ll be more mindful, my love,” he rubs his hand up and down your back. 

“Thank you, Ken. I love you,” you kiss his cheek and he turns his face to capture your lips with his in a chaste kiss. 

Every week, you’d made it tradition to take a side profile picture of the bump along with the fruit that the baby was the size of. This was Nanami’s idea, of course, and he made it creative and fun. Seeing him be so excited for the arrival of your child made your heart swell with joy. 

He’d very proudly started to create a scrapbook of all the happenings during your pregnancy which he was eager to show your child when they got older. 

Interestingly, Nanami did not want to do a gender reveal when the ultrasound technician offered to write it down at one of the scans. And you couldn’t fault his logic when he later explained, “It’s silly. It’s a social construct. We’ll find out when they’re born, and regardless, even then it won’t matter. We’ll still love them the same.”

Every craving, every need, he provided. Including the need to jump his bones in the second trimester. Damn, did he keep up with you. You knew it was because he found the cute little swell of your belly so incredibly sexy — he’d voiced it on numerous occasions — knowing he’d done that, nothing made him more unhinged. 

Ever the doting husband and expectant father, he’d started reading up more about babies and often tell you facts you’d have never known. “Did you know that your heart grows bigger during pregnancy?” He informs you while you’re laid back on the couch, on opposite ends, 5 months in. 

“I…did not know that,” you blink, surprised. 

“Yep. It’s to help the heart pump more blood to the baby. Babies can also cry in the womb.”

“Oh no,” you pout, “I don’t want baby to cry.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about that, hon, they’ve been quite gentle so far. You can sing to them, they’ll hear it by now. And talking to them in another language is also beneficial,” he notes and you let out a soft laugh at how he’s rattling off these fun facts. 

“Your brain truly amazes me sometimes, Ken, it’s like a sponge,” you prop your arm up and rest your chin on your hand. 

“So’s the baby’s right now. We should get a Duolingo subscription and get them started on another language already,” he jokes and you let out a hearty laugh, which earns you a little kick in protest from your baby. 

“Well, your child just said no to that,” you giggle. 

His mouth falls open and he scoots over and lies between your legs, coming face to face with your bump. “Listen here, you little squirt, you will learn another language whether you like it or not.”

“Oh, daddy’s setting rules,” you whisper. 

“And in addition to that language, which you will be fluent in, you’ll also learn jujutsu,” Kento tells your bump definitively. You laugh at how he’s instructing the baby firmly one minute and then lovingly pressing kisses to your skin the next. 

He relaxes against you, and you decide to tell him a fact you’d found out recently. “Did you know that eggs can pick and choose whether the sperm gets to fertilise it? For a while, I thought it was just a race of the best sperm to get to the egg. But the egg can reject it if it wants to. Isn’t that fascinating?”

He raises an eyebrow in slight surprise and amusement at this newfound knowledge. He wasn’t aware of that little detail either, but he finds it very intriguing. “That’s pretty impressive. I had no idea that they had such power over which sperm gets to fertilise them. Who knew eggs were such shrewd gatekeepers?”

“Right? But my egg was a terrible gatekeeper. Probably a combination of that and your sperm just being overachievers.”

He laughs heartily at your comment, the image of his overly ambitious sperm and your easy-going egg combining to form your miracle is quite the amusing picture. 

“Well, I do have some pretty strong swimmers, I can’t deny that. And your egg must have had a weak moment, letting my little overachievers through. But I'm glad it did,” he smiles warmly at you, his hand gently rubbing your leg. 

There were moments where you couldn’t wait to meet the little one, but you also found yourself getting emotional a few times that it wouldn’t just be you and him anymore. When he notices your glassy eyes one day while you’re eating breakfast, he frowns and takes your hand in his. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

The dam suddenly bursts — darned pregnancy hormones — and you start to bawl, managing to say between breaths, “It’s— not— going to— be just— you and me any— anymore…”

He has to stop himself from laughing at your sudden realisation and he circles around the dining table, embracing you. 

“And I know how stupid I sound right now, because I wanted this, and still do, but I’m— I’m just…scared,” you cry, inhaling shaky breaths. “What if I’m not a good mother? What if parenthood is the complete opposite of what I envision it to be?” You ramble.  

He rubs your back gently and comforts you, kissing the crown of your head as you rest it on his chest. “I know, honey. You don’t sound stupid. It’s natural to feel nervous. Parenthood is a new venture for both of us but it won’t be vastly different to what we think it’ll be. And you’ll be a fantastic mother. I’ll be by your side every step of the way, you’ll never be alone. We’re doing this together. We’ll make mistakes together. Clean up messes together. Strive together. It’ll be alright.”

His words of reassurance bring you a sense of calm and you feel the warmth of comfort spread through you slowly, easing your anxieties. 

He reassured you every time you felt any sense of worry or sadness, provided the love that you needed and more, and was a real anchor to harbouring your emotions. 

Week 40 arrived before you knew it. With a bright and large orange pumpkin in hand, you took what you hoped would be the last picture for the scrapbook. You both subsequently started referring to the baby as “pumpkin” that week. Every day that week, he had tried to coax them out with sweet words. 

“Are you gonna come out today, pumpkin? Today’s a good day to join us, I think. The weather’s nice out. You should come see it,” he whispered to your bump in the morning before you were awake. 

When your baby decided that they were ready to come out, Nanami was there, holding your hand the entire time, not once letting go. You were quite afraid of this final hurdle but with Nanami by your side, you knew you’d be okay. 

It was a long and tiring 14 hours, exhaustion was settled into your bones, but when you finally, finally give the final push and the baby is out, you cry. From the relief of birth being over, from the new chapter that had just opened, from having sight of the baby that you and Nanami had made. 

Nanami kisses your head, eyes glassy as he whispers praises of how well you did, that it’s over and that he’s so proud of you. 

The midwife places pumpkin onto your chest for some skin to skin, placing a blanket on top, the little thing curled up and looking disapproving of being pushed out of the coziness of your womb. 

Nanami chuckles softly as he peers over and the baby’s rosy lips tremble before they take their first breath and start to cry quietly. You sniffle as you wipe your own tears and look at your husband and he kisses your forehead. 

You hush the baby gently, speaking softly, “You’re here, pumpkin…here with us. I’ve got you.” 

After they cut the umbilical cord, the afterbirth comes out, and the midwives take the baby to bathe, clothe, take measurements, and bundle them up. 

“How do you feel?” Kento asks, holding your hand still as you stand up, ready to take a shower. 

“I feel a little empty inside, it also hurts. Not looking forward to peeing,” you sigh and he caresses your back gently. 

“You’ll get better with time, honey,” he guides you to the shower room.

There, he tends to all of your needs, helping you carefully wash up, dry off, put ice and a giant pad on, and then your clothes. You could almost cry from his attentiveness.

You hug him and squeeze gently, gazing up at him gratefully and lovingly. “What did I do to deserve you?” You whisper. 

He smiles sweetly, caressing your cheek and giving you a chaste peck. “You can’t say that after you just pushed our baby out,” he chuckles. You laugh softly and you hold each other for a moment longer, before you both go back into the room.

There, the midwives wheel the bassinet over to you, where pumpkin is awake and looking for something to come into focus. 

“She’s very healthy, Mr. and Mrs. Nanami.”

“She?” You repeat, feeling your heart flutter. A sweet little girl. 

Nanami smiles to himself, he’s elated. He has a daughter. “Sweetheart, come on, look at her lips, they’re totally yours.”

You give him a small smile, eyes filling with happy tears as you both fawn over your daughter. It was a little early to tell, but you hope she has his eyes. She had a bunch of blonde hair, too.

“Hold her, Ken,” you whisper and he obliges, gently picking her up and angling his arms perfectly to fit his little angel against him. 

He’s quiet for a minute, just soaking up the feeling of having his daughter in his arms, the warmth of her, her existence setting in. 

“Now, about those language lessons that you refused to do…” he speaks to her in a gentle tone, and your lips curl into a bigger smile at his jokes, “I don’t want to hear another word from you, little miss. Any objections?”

He’s quiet for a beat and the baby just pouts as she looks up at her father, which you laugh softly at. “Good choice. Maybe start to brush up on some Malay, sweet pea, your mama and I will be taking you to Malaysia one day soon,” he promises to her you feel your heart flutter in your chest at the thought.

The three of you, your little family, in your shared happy place. Something out of a dream, but soon would be reality.

You couldn’t wait.

Read the sequel, Pumpkin's First Birthday, here <3

Do not copy or translate my work. © ashasdiary, all rights reserved. Divider by cafekitsune

[megwritesriddles]

I Despise You ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Fem!Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 1 - Angry Sex. Reader is the Head Girl and Riddle is the Head Boy, Riddle likes to push Reader's boundaries until it all boils over. Minimal plot but a smidge anyway.

Tags: Angry sex, P in V, Fingering (fem receiving), Unprotected sex, Magic as birth control, Enemies with benefits, Arguing (which is badly written oops), Attempt at angst, Tiny bit of sexism from Riddle, Reader is wearing a dress (I imagined one of those Sabrina Carpenter babydoll dresses lol), Head boy Riddle, Head girl Reader, Historical inaccuracy.

Word count: 3.4k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: First installment of Kinktober and first post on tumblr!! woo!! please show me some love if you like it!! I am terrible at writing arguments because I hate confrontation irl oops!! Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

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Being appointed as Head Girl was supposed to be the best thing to ever happen to you. You’d been working toward it since at least the third year and it was all you ever seemed to hope for. It was meant to be an achievement that you and your friends would all celebrate, perhaps head down to the Three Broomsticks and spoil you with free drinks for the night in honour of your achievement. But, life wasn’t so kind.

When your position as Head Girl was announced all you had received from your friends were pitying looks, all due to the pesky little detail of who had been announced as Head Boy to serve alongside you. Tom Riddle. Tom. Fucking. Riddle. Of course, Professor Dippett had had to announce his name first, meaning you hadn’t even gotten a second of enjoyment from your appointment. He had stood up smugly at the Slytherin table, basking in the cheers from his house, flashing a charming smile to the room as he made his way to the front of the hall. For the first time in your life, at that moment, you had prayed that Head Girl would not be you. It was. Your name was called, your house applauded and your legs carried you over to Riddle’s side. He grinned down at you, that little glint of mockery in his eye that you could only see from this close. You wanted to punch him, that would surely lose you the Head Girl position and solve this problem, but you had your future to think of. You had repeated that to yourself all that night as you and Riddle had been whisked off to the staff room to be briefed on your positions and given your badges. Riddle was the picture of charm, laughing with the various professors that came to speak with you, you just sat there, smiling falsely, looking a little like you’d just been hit over the head with a plank. You felt like it too. Your lifelong dream had just been turned into something poisonous. Really, you thought to yourself as Slughorn guided you through the corridors to the Head’s quarters, you should have seen this coming. They weren’t supposed to appoint two students from the same house, so logically, if you were picked for Head Girl, it was only ever going to be Riddle at your side. You wondered why you hadn’t considered this before, it was so obvious with hindsight. You scowled at the back of his and Slughorn’s heads as you ascended some stairs, them chatting together jovially, making your blood boil.

Slughorn shows you the small common room, enough seating for about four people, a fireplace, and a little kitchenette with some stools, decorated with opulence. It would all have been very nice if it hadn’t been for Riddle standing there commenting on the lovely brass crests. The separate rooms were your biggest comfort, both off of little halls from the common room in different directions. You could hide in there from him, you told yourself over and over. You didn’t have the headspace to be impressed by the beautiful ensuites with golden-tapped baths, just wanting Slughorn to leave so you would no longer have to listen to Riddle’s disgustingly smooth voice. Eventually, Slughorn did leave the two of you to go to bed. As he shut the common room door, you could see Riddle’s mouth opening from the corner of your eye. You darted to your room before he could get the words out, slamming the door, relieved to find all your things already there. You collapsed onto the bed and sighed. The nightmare was only beginning.

The hands on the clock point to 3:30 am. It’s a Monday morning, you have a meeting with Dumbledore in just a few hours, but sleep is impossible. He has friends over again. The deep bass of their voices reverberates through the walls of the common room. They’re chatting and laughing like always, most likely drinking too, you’ve spotted them with whiskey a few times. You seethe with anger in your bed, just last week you had kindly approached him, and not for the first time, about this issue. You had emphatically asked him to be considerate of you and your time. He had placated you like always.

“Yes darling, I didn’t realise we were being so bothersome, won’t happen again,” he had soothed, but of course, it was happening again right now. You kept somehow getting caught in his charms, the very ones you had been immune to for so long. It had to be the sleep deprivation he was causing, that was what was making you melt a little whenever he called you darling or smiled just so, in the way that used to make you feel sick. In the dark of your room, you lie on your side and curse inwardly. Reporting him had crossed your mind many times, but you knew he would just charm his way out of it, like he did with everything. Your ears rumble with another deep laugh from the group of men in the other room and you’ve had enough. Throwing off your duvet and stomping to your bedroom door, you fling it open and head into the common room. He sits reclined leisurely in an armchair by the fireplace, his sleeves rolled up and tie loose. His ankles are crossed, resting on the coffee table in front of him, he chuckles at something, you couldn’t care less what, the firelight dancing over his face. He hasn’t noticed you, but across from him on the opposite armchair, his friend, Avery, straightens up and grins at you. His eyes drift over you, you realise instantly that you stomped out here in only your nightgown and socks and flush lightly, but stand your ground.

“Riddle!” you bark, surprising even yourself with the viciousness of your tone. This brings his attention to you effectively. His other two friends turn to look at you over the back of the sofa, Riddle doesn’t even straighten up when he looks up at you, smirking in a self-satisfied way that makes your insides twist oddly.

“Hello darling,” he speaks smoothly. “You look a picture tonight,” he lets his eyes drift up and down your figure without shame. You go red with anger and embarrassment.

“Doesn't she just?” One of his friends, Rosier, comments with a mocking chuckle. This sets you off.

“Out!” You screech. All the boys look taken aback by the intensity of your outburst. “Out, out, out!”

“Fine,” Riddle hisses in an infuriatingly calm tone. “You lot should go, you heard the Head Girl,” you hear the mocking tone in his voice, suggesting he thinks you’re hysterical. You stand there with your fists clenched, staring the men down as they get up and head for the door, feeling ridiculous but not wanting to show any weakness. Once they all leave and shut the door behind them, the two of you fall into silence for a moment. He’s watching you, but not in the leering way from earlier, he almost looks impressed with you. You avert your eyes from the closed door onto his face, he’s leaning forward now, with his elbows on his knees. Just when you’re considering simply turning to leave, he speaks up. “Happy now, darling? You’re really no fun, we were only talking,” his eyes fix on yours, burning deeply. You scoff indignantly.

“It’s nearly 4 am Riddle, you know I have a meeting in the morning, I have brought this up to you countless times and–”

“Yes, but you don’t seem to understand that I simply don’t care to keep you happy, darling,” he grins. You let out a frustrated yelp.

“You are unbelievable! How were you ever chosen for Head Boy when you're this insidious? You don’t deserve it!” You snap. This stirs something in him. His eyes darken and he stands up from the armchair.

“And you do, do you darling?” he asks slowly, stalking toward you. “You’re the picture of perfection, aren’t you just?” You’re not sure what to say to this, any answer seems wrong like it’ll give him reason to dig into you further. Your mouth opens and shuts for a moment before you settle on a shrug. Your hands flex in the fists they’re tightened into as a smirk spreads over his face. “You don’t seem so high and mighty from here,” he chuckles, stopping in front of you. He has several inches on you and you’re forced to look up at him. “You look lovely in this little nightie,” he comments with a grin, reaching out to trace the lace at the strap with the tip of his finger. You jolt away instantly, glaring up at him.

“Don’t you dare touch me! And don’t you dare comment on my looks!” You hissed, smacking his hand away. His eyes darken even more at this.

“And don’t you dare smack me,” he growls. “I was merely paying you a compliment,”

“Like hell you were!” You scoff. “You’re trying to make me feel small,” he rolls his eyes, shaking his head.

“If the shoe fits,” he grins. You scowl, shoving at him without thinking about it. He stumbles back slightly, looking momentarily bewildered. When he realises what you just did he surges for you. He grabs you by the shoulders and pushes you into the wall. You let out a small oof sound as you collide with the wall, surprised it didn’t hurt more than it did. For a moment, you wonder if he had avoided hurting you until you look up and see the fire in his eyes, then you wonder if he wishes he had just killed you. “I would have rather had literally anyone as Head Girl than you, you are the bane of my existence,” he snarls, gripping your shoulders hard.

“I’m the bane of your existence? I don’t have friends over until the small hours of the morning! Imagine how I feel!” You spit back. You can tell he’s barely listening to you.

“You are insufferable! You’re the only person who doesn’t fawn over the sight of me and it’s you that I get stuck with for the whole year!” he scoffs. “I will not let you control my lifestyle!” he adds angrily. “I will not bend my life to make you happy! I am not subservient to anyone and I never will be!” you roll your eyes exaggeratedly.

“You are ridiculous,”

“I despise you,” he hisses venomously. “You’re always everywhere I am, you’re always following me around, tailing me in every subject, you had to go for this position when I’ve had my sights locked on it since first year!” He pushes you back into the wall again. “Are you happy now darling? You got Head Girl and now we’re both miserable! You must be thrilled!”

“You think I’m following you around?” you sneer. “How full of yourself are you that you think me going for Head Girl was about you? You seem to think you’re the centre of everything, but in my life Riddle, you are just an inconvenience, you are nothing,” you seethed. Something flashes in Riddle’s eyes, his jaw working.

“I am nothing?” he demands. “I am nothing?” he’s shaking now and you’re sure he’s about to hex you or punch you, his eyes flick between yours, his whole body coiled tight and ready to pounce. Instead, his lips are suddenly on yours, thrusting your head back against the wall. You yelp in surprise, your eyes wide, the back of your head hurting from being pressed into the hard surface. He kisses you without a single hint of affection, kissing you like it’s a punishment, a way of muzzling you, but Merlin, somehow it feels good. He’s grabbing at you, taking fistfuls of your nightgown in his hands. You find that you’re kissing him back, that you have been practically since his lips met yours and that you’re doing so eagerly. Your head is spinning as his arms wrap around you and he pulls you harshly to him, the hard planes of his lean body pressing against you. Your arms snake around his neck and he lets you yank at his hair. He’s kissing you so hard that you’re practically tipping backwards. Your tongues rub against each other as you kiss frantically. He’s leading you to the sofa, throwing you down and then settling above you. He props himself up, his hands on either side of your head. You both take this moment to catch your breaths, staring intensely at each other as your chests rise and fall rapidly. “Am I still nothing?” he growls, a little breathless. Once again, you don’t know what the right thing to say is. One of his hands moves down and starts to push up the hem of your nightdress, revealing your thighs to his devouring eyes. You grab him and kiss him again instead of talking, just as hard and unforgiving as before.

You feel your nightdress being bunched at your waist and hear the faint sound of a zip being pulled down. You kiss him harder, nipping at his bottom lip harshly and scrunching your eyes shut. He just groans in response, pushing down his slacks haphazardly, his other hand keeping him propped up above you. You’re suddenly awfully overheated, both from lying on the sofa in front of the blazing fireplace and from the realisation of what he’s planning to do to you. Are you really going to do this? Are you really going to let him fuck you on the sofa in the common room? Riddle? The man you’ve hated for years? The man who has been deliberately antagonising you for the past several weeks, and especially tonight? Your hands are resting on his stomach, and you connect the dots in mild horror that you’ve been unbuttoning his shirt without even realising it. You feel completely out of control of yourself, you’ve never acted this way before. You gasp in surprise when you feel his fingers pressing against your core through the fabric of your underwear. His fingers rub roughly, sending jolts of pain and pleasure through you. You whine slightly, feeling him smirk against your lips. You scratch at his chest a little in retaliation. He grunts, you can’t tell if he likes it or not and it bothers you. His fingers hook into your underwear and start to tug down. This is your last chance to back out, to throw him off of you and run away, but you find yourself unable to do anything but writhe and cling to his shoulders. The underwear is discarded on the floor and he is using his free hand to spread your thighs open, you flush deeply as he pulls away from the kiss to look down at you. You can feel how wet you are and you hate that, based on the smug little grin on his face, he knows it too. Your cheeks are burning as he reaches down, using two fingers to spread your folds. He lets out a needy sound by accident and it’s your turn to gloat. He flashes you a glare and plunges a finger into your tight heat in revenge. This makes your back arch and your lips part and he smirks back at you.

“So wet…” he comments, self-satisfied, his finger creating obscene squelches as he pumps it in and out of you slowly. You snarl at him, lashing out in embarrassment. You grab at the tent in his boxers, feeling him rock-hard under the fabric. He frowns in embarrassment, withdrawing his finger from you which makes you whimper a little. “You’re asking for it now, darling,” he growls. He’s scrambling to rid himself of his boxers. His tip is quickly prodding at your entrance and you gasp and arch slightly. He glides against you for a moment, his tip rubbing deliciously at your clit, seeming like he’s waiting for something. Then, he’s plunging into you. You let out a pathetic little cry and he grins. “Does that feel good?” he coos mockingly as he fully seats himself inside you. You both gasp for breath as your tight heat embraces him. It does feel good, torturously so, but his mocking tone irks you.

“I hate you,” you growl up at him as he lowers himself onto his elbows, his face right above yours. He scowls, panting slightly.

“I hate you too, believe me,” his arms wrap around your shoulders, keeping you in place. He buries his face in your neck and starts to nip as his hips begin to rock harshly. His thrusts are hard and punishing, slow, withdrawing almost completely and then slamming forward, just short of painful. You whine and grab at his back, letting your nails dig into him, he doesn’t seem to mind. He speeds up, grunting loudly against your neck. He pulls back to watch as you move along with his thrusts, your eyes scrunched shut and lips parted with desperate whines. He pants, his hot breaths washing over your face. He speeds up even more, growling like a crazed animal. “Look at you, falling apart under me, what would your friends think?” he taunts. Your eyes squeeze tighter shut, a wave of shame passing through you that somehow heightens your pleasure.

“Shut the fuck up,” you whine. You hear him laughing mockingly. You muster your strength and clench your walls around him. His laugh morphs into a choked groan at the sensation, his hips stuttering. He was more affected by this than you expected, his pace now brutal as he fucks into you, clearly desperately chasing release now, rather than focusing on playing mind games on you. His lips meet yours again and you kiss back. It’s clumsy and sloppy, given how fast he’s moving, but it just heightens everything you’re feeling. “You gonna come already?” you mock as you feel him faltering in his thrusts. He groans angrily against your lips.

“I despise you,” he hisses shakily, propping himself back up so he can thrust into you more relentlessly. You return the sentiment, but it’s a little half-hearted now between whines. You cry out when you feel his thumb on your clit, rubbing hard. He seems oddly determined to have you orgasm before he does, perhaps to humiliate you, but it feels so good that you can hardly complain. He grunts loudly, you can tell he’s trying to goad you, but his speech is incoherent between sounds of pleasure and the slapping of skin against skin. You feel it building up and you can’t deny yourself the pleasure, you don’t try to hold back. However, he still falls apart first. His hips stutter then stop entirely and he groans loudly, you feel his seed spilling deep into you, warm ropes painting your inside. His thumb doesn’t let up its rubbing and it allows you to also reach your release. You pulse around his oversensitive cock and he gasps and whines pathetically, but continues rubbing you through it until all the aftershocks are over.

He remains propped above you, catching his breath for a while, his head hung low. You both whine slightly as he withdraws from you slowly, leaving you with a pop. He takes a shaky breath, staring at his essence that trickles out of you. You just stare at the ceiling, unsure what to do now. You feel the sofa dip as he reaches down to the floor, his chest touching yours as he lowers himself gently. He grabs his wand from his trouser pocket and props back up. He mumbles a spell, cleaning you of his essence and eliminating the chance of pregnancy. It pleases you a little that he took care of it, rather than leaving it up to you. He moves, sitting back on his haunches between your legs, lowering the hem of your nightdress to cover you back up. You stare at each other silently for a moment as he tucks himself away.

“This changes nothing between us,” he asserts, narrowing his eyes at you. You want to laugh at that, as clearly everything has just changed in some way, but you know what he means.

“Yeah, it changes nothing,” you repeat with a sigh. He glances over at the fireplace for a moment, before his eyes flick to the clock on the mantelpiece.

“Now chop chop, don’t you have that meeting with Dumbledore?” he grins. Your eyes widen and then you kick at him in frustration, realising what he’s done. He just laughs. “You better figure out a way to cover those hickeys quickly,” he smirks. You whine indignantly, burying your head in your hands.

“I’m going to kill you!”

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xoxoxo

[venuscrashed]

I love the idea that MC can just bring their human logic into any situation especially with demons (obviously), like the blankets protecting them and stuff. So here’s some of the head cannons I have.

Mammon is the one to believe it the most with beel being the most supportive. You cannot tell me he’d scream and be paranoid once you tell him he can’t have his feet on the floor, during a horror movie otherwise he’ll get kidnapped.

Beel would be confused but supportive. “But demons aren’t like that.” He would turn off the lights for you so you don’t have to run upstairs or to you room. Just stands there like 🧍‍♂️and wait.

Levi knew about all this before hand with all the human movies he had watched. Would even go along with it to mess with Mammon. “Of course that’s true. Gosh, Stupid Mammon”

Satan doesn’t believe it but indulges it. Half because he finds it amusing and the other half because it annoys his brothers, especially Lucifer. “Why do you need all those blankets? Protection against demons? Haha, okay here’s more”

Belphie is done with it but still laughs. “Obviously that’s not true” but still is amused when his brothers are so confused and annoyed. Would even try to scare you. Would be behind you when the lights turn off, acting like the demon in the dark….wait

Asmo uses the logic in his posts. Takes a picture with you and captions it something like “feet off floor; no demons coming after us tonight” Would also indulge in it. “Lucifer aren’t you afraid the monster in the closet. Wait! Please look”

Lucifer is so done with your shenanigans. “No MC, there are no demons in your closet. Yes, I checked.” “No MC, no monsters will pull you during the movie” No MC, stop running after turning off the light.” “MC!!!!-“

Diavolo is so fascinated. Like “this is human logic” with stars in his eyes. Even laughs at it and apply it to everyday activities. “Yes, I know no demon will come after me but it’s safe to be safe” Tells it to important officials “my human came up with it. Isn’t it amazing.”

Simeon would quietly laugh. “You are quite the character” will use it in his story’s and all. Would absolutely oblige and humor you. Even brings extra blankets and maybe offer to be with you- has also offered to protect you from demons

Luke absolutely believes it. Protects you from any and every demon so you feel safe. Runs with you after turning off the lights. But never watched horror movies with you, he can’t take that. Has Simeon check his closet before going to bed now.

Soloman absolutely knows about these-maybe even started them. Would use them as a chance to flirt. “I can hold your hand while we run” puts more ideas into your head subtly. Does that laugh whenever the others don’t get it.

Barbatos just laughs and chuckles every time. Also a little bit hurt but knows it’s all for fun. “It hurts my heart that you think about us demons that way. May I change that?” Would tell story’s about scary demons he has met to indulge with your antics. “I once knew a demon who his in kids closet. He’s not doing the best now”

[gojoest]

MDNI, sukugo x f! reader (established throuple), she/her pronouns used, true form sukuna, unprotected sex (p in v), brief mention of oral (f receiving), thigh fucking (sukuna @ satoru), petnames (satoru calls you baby once i think, didn’t proofread sry), wc: 1.2k+

no plot just sukuna holding you for satoru to fuck + thigh fucking satoru with one of his cocks bc they make me ill

this thing between the three of you...

it made little sense to those around. when the word got out that you were involved, people started fearing you too. it raised many questions, among which you were the biggest one. in their eyes you were a being too peculiar and far more intimidating than you looked it, for having tamed the two most powerful forces mankind had ever known — the two strongest in the entire history of curses and sorcerers.

not long ago gojo satoru and ryomen sukuna were out for each other’s blood, but now you had them nicely wrapped around your finger. or vice versa, they had you nicely wrapped around their cocks.

there was no logical explanation to how you made this work, only that it just somehow did.

and it made so much sense when you fucked.

the otherwise chaotic duo was surprisingly in sync when they took turns on you and fucked you senseless, until you were reduced to a shaking, stuttering mess.

they always fell on you like starved animals. while one was taking off your clothes, the other was kissing every bit of skin that got exposed.

“more gently”, a low grunt erupted from satoru’s throat (directed at sukuna) while he gave a few extra pumps to his cock before entering you. his tip grazing against your folds, sliding up and down to spread your slick, making you bite your lips through a hiss. “hold her more gently, you’re going to bruise her”, he warned again.

“tch”, sukuna clicked his tongue, “don’t boss me around when i’m holding her for you to fuck”

despite the protest, he softened his grip. although just by bit.

“no need to be so sour now, big boy. you know the rules — if you eat first, you get to fuck last”, satoru grinned teasingly, reminding him why he was in this position in the first place.

under regular circumstances, neither of them would follow rules, it just did not align with their nature. but when it came to you, they were both very cooperative and diligent so long they got to fuck the pretty little thing that you were. as much as they wanted to penetrate you simultaneously and compare dick sizes inside your cunt in real time to see whose would reach further and deeper, they knew they had to take turns on you. there was no other way — those cocks were too massive for your pussy to fit them both.

today sukuna had his way with you first. he devoured you hungrily with both of his mouths. alternating between your cunt and your face every few minutes, to steal kisses and let you taste yourself on his lips while the tongue on his belly kept lapping on your folds.

“be quick, as you always are”, sukuna mocked with a smug grin.

he had you still and steady over his groin as he stood tall in the middle of the room, your back pressed against his chest as his four arms held your legs open for the whitehaired man to have his way with you. a pair of hands clutching you from under your knees, and the other — spreading your pussy lips apart, enough to make your hole gasp open for the cock in front of you.

“fuck, so pretty”, an eager growl dragged out of satoru’s lips as he prodded his cockhead at your entrance, arousal spurting out of your cunt as your muscles flexed and tightened in seek of deeper friction. “shit, that was so hot”, he breathed.

so slick and sopping, you were already sucking him in with such ease when he pressed his tip against your hole that his hips jerked and bucked forward, involuntarily inserting a few inches of himself in you. “nghh, ‘toru, m-more—”, you mewled agonizingly when he stopped midway in his tracks. he wasn’t ready to enter fully yet, but call it muscle memory the way his hips moved on their own back there. “oh god, baby, you are so fucking wet”

“right?”, sukuna grinned. “it’s me who made her like that”, his hands released your pussy lips and traced across the small of satoru’s back, rolling down further to grab a handful of his ass — “go bask in her, brat” — and forcefully slammed him into you until he completely bottomed out. “when she asks for more, you give her. now move — or do you need my help there too?”

“shit, don’t just do that”, satoru cursed through a throaty cry, eyes squeezed shut as his head fell on your chest. that jerk…

he needed a few moments before he could start moving, just to adjust, to adapt to the way you clenched your walls around him. it was the fact that you felt too good and squeezed too much that often made him cum too soon. but right now, he was in a bit of a more serious bind as sukuna’s second cock, sticking out like a branch from under your spread ass cheeks, was tickling and pressing against his balls — it was too much to handle all at once.

fuck, fuck, fuck. he was too sensitive.

the position was perfect for both of sukuna’s cocks to be humped and stimulated at the same time — with one of them squished between your back and his belly, and the other — prodding in between satoru’s thighs. all he needed was the friction, and the only one who could give it to him was satoru. “come on now, be a good boy — move”, sukuna coaxed, peppering soft kisses on your shoulder from behind. his eyes glued on the man before him as his lips left wet trails on your skin. “she’s waiting”, cooing sweetly.

and you — you enticed him too, wrapping arms around his shoulders and pulling him in — “come on, baby. fuck me, hard” — you whispered needily before planting a kiss on his mouth that he, on the other hand, grew into a smile.

satoru’s lips curled up knowingly, aware of the hidden agenda behind the request coming from the both of you. sly, greedy lovers, he thought internally. you probably had that schemed during your earlier makeout sesh. he could feel the pulse of sukuna’s massive cock throb against his inner thighs along with the heartbeat of your clit pressed on his lower abdomen, mixing in together until he couldn’t tell which one belonged to who anymore. it made the blood in his groin boil, sizzle even more.

he leaned in closer again, kissing you first, then stretching his neck over your shoulder to lock lips with sukuna. you had to admit, the sounds they made as they kissed each other were probably the hottest thing you’ve ever heard in your life. the grunts, the moans, the whimpers, the muffled-up breathing as their mouths smashed together — right next to your ear, almost making the voices sound like they were in your head.

and just like that, satoru’s hips naturally started rocking back and forth, in a steady motion at first. just for the first few thrusts as a warm-up before he picked it up to a merciless pace in the blink of an eye. darting in and out of you in a quick, sharp flow of motions. pulling all the way out and slamming back in with full force, knocking the air out of you each time, making you arch that back to pressure the cock squished behind the small of it while his thighs remained clenched around the other cock as humanly possible, eliciting grunts of pleasure and obscenity from the man behind you…

he just had to fuck you very hard now, didn’t he? both of you, his two sly, greedy lovers that made him do all the work…