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#he throws his head back like why why why must you be like this why must you doubt me
hawkinsquarry · 3 days
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all things must pass (steve x reader)
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summary: steve makes you leave him at the end of the world.
contains: steve x reader; gender unspecified reader; no pronouns used for reader; post-st4; unresolved angst; probably too much swearing :/
i miss this guy and i’m feeling insane over him so have some angst with an ambiguous ending 🫶🏻
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Steve’s feet feel particularly heavy when we steps across your foyer. And the packet he has in his hands feels even heavier. He brushes off a few specs of ashes before slamming them down on the table in front of you, lazily eating cereal.
“What the hell is this?” you ask after a moment, grabbing the ledger on top. You know immediately it’s an airline ticket. It makes you feel sick and you push your Cheerios away as your eyes scan the details.
FROM-TO
IND > LA
You want to fucking kill him but you don’t have a chance as he breezes past, grabbing your suitcase out of your walk in closet.
“You depart in twelve hours,” he starts. He recited it in his head the entire way over to make the conversation easier, but the words are hard to get out. “Only take your essentials. When you’re there, a chauffeur will pick you up and take you to the - the - the location.”
“Steve, I’m not fucking going -“
“Yes, you are.” He says sternly. Like you’re a child.
“I’m not going anywhere without you!”
And he know this was coming - this cyclical argument you’ve been having for the last three weeks, your tears, the lump in his throat, uncertainly fogging both of your vision. But it doesn’t make it any easier, any less frustrating.
He says your name low and quiet. A plea. “This is safe. This is where the - the - the people I know told me to send you. That it’s the safest place.”
“And we’re trusting those people now?”
“No. W-well, yes! It - it’s - just - trust me, not them. Okay?” He settles your suitcase on the couch and starts moving around your living room for things he knows you’ll need. A blanket. Medicine. “Anywhere away from here is better, anyway.”
“So you admit it isn’t safe?”
Steve sniffles. “I never said it was.”
You follow him to your bedroom where he begins ripping clothes from your closet. He doesn’t miss the hoodie he leant you a few months ago. It’s laid on top of your suitcase with more shirts and pants.
You grab his arm and try to force it to fall back to his side, but he’s too strong, god damn him. “Steve, quit!” you beg, digging your heels into the ground and tugging on him. “I’m not leaving, Steve. I’m not going unless you go with me.”
“We talked about this.”
As nauseam, in fact. Until the ache in Steve’s throat was excruciating. Until your voice was hoarse and you were heaving. He’s not leaving, and you are.
You tug on him again. “I’ll keep talking about it until you listen to me!”
He doesn’t say anything. Just keeps moving back and forth between your closet and the suitcase. You cry, as hard as you try not to. You really are like a petulant child, stomping your foot, throwing a tantrum. You feel like it’s the only way he’ll listen, but you know the reality is that he still won’t.
“What about me?” you cry. You’re so angry at him, want to say something that’ll make him hurt. That’ll change the expression on his stoic face. You find it in you to refrain. “What about us, Steve?”
Keeps packing. Head down. Jaw clenched tight. He was ready for this fight when he walked in.
“Steve, let the goddamn military handle it. Do - do you honestly think you’re going to save the world?”
“No,” he snaps.
“Then what?”
He doesn’t answer because you already know why. Because he can’t leave Dustin, and Dustin can’t leave El, because apparently she can save the world. And Robin won’t leave Steve who won’t leave Dustin who won’t leave El. And Nancy fucking Wheeler won’t leave Mike who won’t leave El.
It makes you feel insane. Your blood boils and spills over, and over, and over, and it never just depletes. You keep going, keep arguing, trying to talk him out of it until your voice is hoarse. It’s hoarse now, in fact. Last night Steve held you until you shut up, until you cried yourself to sleep, and you had no idea he had already got you a plane ticket out of here. You feel so betrayed it makes your stomach twist and chest ache.
“I can’t live without you,” you try. It’s the third time you’ve pulled this and it seems to get him the most. “Steve, I don’t know what I’d do if - if….”
Steve bites his cheek, stilling, his hands clutching one of your sweaters.
“Why don’t you care?” you push.
He sniffles again, pinches his nose. You’d prefer it if he’d just let himself cry. He’d give in, then, if he let his emotions take over.
“Don’t you love me?”
“Jesus, yes,” he grits, finally looking at you. His eyes are red. “Why do you think I’m makin’ you leave, huh? Why do you think I’m staying?”
“Because you think you’re something you’re not!”
He runs a big hand through his hair so harshly you fear it’ll get tugged out. He walks towards you, holding his arms out, murmuring, “honey,” and as much as it pains you, you back away.
“Don’t,” you say sharply. Your throat aches. “Don’t do that, Steve.”
“I love you.” He sounds exhausted. “I love you, please believe me.”
“If you love me, then come with me.”
“There won’t be a world for us to live in unless we stop this.”
“You aren’t going to save the world.” You’re so desperate for him to listen to you. “The chances are so slim, Steve. Why can’t we love each other while we have time?”
Steve takes a shaky breath. “I won’t let you die without doing something about it first.”
You stare at each other. It’s suddenly dawning on you that nothing you’ll do will ever change his mind. That his chances of living through the next few days are slim. That this is the last time you’ll get to see him. While he’s packing for you and forcing you to take a plane to California.
There’s nothing romantic about it. It’s not like what you’ve seen in the movies you rented from Family Video when Steve had a shift. Before he was yours. When you went because the forest green vest looked so good on him, and he always had some goofy recommendation, and he let his hands touch yours when giving you your change for a moment too long.
You’ve hardly even had him.
“So that’s it?” You can hardly hear yourself.
“I’m doing this for you. I’m doing everything for you. And - and i-if it works, I swear I’ll make it up to you. I swear, angel.”
You shake your head, hot tears making their way down your jaw. “No.”
He stills. Looks a little like a deer in headlights. Caught off guard, shocked. Mouth parting slightly before closing again, like he wants to argue but can’t.
What is there to say?
“If you make me get on that plane, Steve….” You shake your head again, swallowing the ache in your throat down.
You stare at each other again. His eyes are one of your favorite things about him. Those saccharine, chestnut and moss colored irises. They scrunch up when he laughs. You used to think about leaving Hawkins and moving somewhere nice, so far away from all of this that Steve grows up to have crows feet around his eyes. That you’d be the one who put them there. And this is the last time you’ll see them.
“You have to go,” he eventually sniffles.
“Please,” you try, for the final time.
He blinks slowly, frowning, chest rising and falling slowly. “I love you,” he whispers. “Please believe me.”
You’re not sure if you can.
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satorusugurugurl · 8 hours
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OKAY HEAR ME OUT.
I’ve been seeing so many videos about how Japanese people view prostitution wherein they don’t think that such is a form of cheating.
Can I please get JJK men headcanons of whether or not they would visit a prostitute (for the context, the boys can be single of taken)
TY
Lady of the Night
Characters: Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Ryomen Sukuna (modern ceo au), Geto Suguru (curse user)
Warnings: Mentions of sex work, escort/prostitution, rough sex, silly gojo, blindfolds, spanking, cursing, balcony sex, contracts being bought, sold off, virginity loss, mentions of violence/blood/death/fire (all in Geto’s)
Word Count: 5,000
A/N: Wowzers, this one was intense. Please note consent is key!!! I don’t support cheating or anything, so these boys are just looking for a good time. Please know in Geto’s, there’s no SA. It’s hinted there was an attempt, but I didn’t go into details! If you’re not comfortable, please do not read!
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Gojo Satoru:
Gojo wouldn't intentionally hire an escort. He would, however, order one on accident. The man is exhausted and can easily teleport home, but the tiny village he’s in is famous for its taro mochi. He finds a motel where they’re renowned for their sweet treat and books a room for the night.
The second Satoru steps inside, his blindfold is off, his shoes kicked to the side, and he's making his way for the phone to call room service. Glancing over the menu, he ordered the mochi his mouth was watering over, along with a silk robe that must be woven with gold because who in their right mind spends ¥200,000 on a robe? Oh well, it's pocket change for him.
Little did Satoru know there was a reason the robe was so expensive. The hotel he’s staying at is a love hotel. They are known not only for their delectable mochi but also for their lovely escorts. So the reason his robe was so damn expensive was because you were a part of the order. A package deal of sorts! So imagine his surprise when he opens his hotel room door expecting someone to roll in a cart with a silver platter and lid to find a woman standing in his ¥200,000 robe that barely covers your beautiful glowing skin.
“Room service~” Your sultry voice cooes as you pull the robe out a little, revealing more of your breasts.
Satoru takes one look at you before turning a bright shade of red. Then he does something no one in all your years as an escort does. He slams the door in your face, leaving you staring at the wood grain in utter shock.
“I-I’m sorry!” He sputters out, turning to stare at the door. “I-I think there's been some kind of mistake!”
Confirming that you’re at the right room, you tilt your head to the side. “This is the room I was given. Is your name Gojo? You ordered a specialty robe.” A nervous laugh sounds from the other side of the door.
”I assumed it was a robe for me to wear!’
He was slamming his head against the wall, grimacing as you burst out into a fit of giggles. Not only were you incredibly attractive, but your laugh was fucking adorable?! Satoru just wanted to throw himself out of the window without his infinity up.
You wiped at the tears forming in your eyes. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t be laughing, but this has never happened to me before.”
”Yeah,” Satoru chuckled, “I guess that makes two of us.” His face was burning as his eyes lingered on the door. You laughed again louder, this time making his heart flutter. “I guess this explains why the robe was so expensive.” You barked another laugh as he slowly opened the door, leaning against the frame, grinning down at you.
”That would explain it.” You held the platter of his mochi out for him. “Sorry for the mixup. Here’s your mochi, and I’ll bring you up a robe that hasn’t been worn.” Turning back to the elevator, your movements ceased as the handsome man gently grabbed your wrist, preventing you from moving.
“Would you like to come in?” he offered, stepping to the side. “Share some mochi?” with a broad smile, you slowly nodded.
“You did pay for a night with me.”
“No, I paid for a robe, a robe that just so happens to be attached to a beautiful woman.”
“Right~ I would love to come in.”
When you first got off the elevator, you had a general idea of what the evening would entail. Sex with a customer, a hot shower, and then you would head home. You had never been more wrong in your entire life, and you were glad that you were.
You didn’t have sex; instead, you just laid in bed with Satoru tied up in the robe that he had ordered for himself. You fed each other mochi while laughing and getting to know each other. In the two hours you had with him, you had never had so much fun in your career. Gojo felt the same way; you were so easy to talk to, and you were gorgeous.
Time didn’t seem to exist in that hotel room as you took a bite of mochi Satoru held out for you. But the moment the phone rang, it pulled you out of your happy fantasy back into reality. A disappointed sigh escaped you as you answered the phone, grimacing as your manager yelled at you that he’d had another client waiting for you despite your rule of only taking one a night. Before you could argue with him, Satoru snatched the phone from your hands.
”Sorry, I’m not done; I’d like to add to my time.”
”Satoru wh—“ he cut you off by shoving a ball of mochi into your mouth, shutting you up.
”You know what, just put me down with her all night.” Your manager's excitement was audible from the phone as Gojo just told him the price for the whole night. “That’s it?” Satoru’s nose turned up. “She’s worth more than that and then some. Just charge it to my card.”
”Satoru,” He grinned, pulling you into his chest. “You didn’t have to do that.”
”You honestly think I’m just going to let you slip away? Hell no.” You cuddled into his side. “How would you feel about leaving this shitty job and becoming a sugar baby of sorts instead?”
”Are you offering to be my sugar daddy?” You teased with a giggle, running your hand up and down his chest.
”Depends. What would you say if I did offer to do just that?”
You gently straddled his hips, trailing kisses down his jawline. “Well, I would start by saying you’re too young to be one.” His cock twitched underneath the curve of your ass as you moved past his neck.
”I might be young, but I’m filthy rich.” His hands reached up, groping your ass, gently rocking you against his hardening bulge. “If you allowed me the pleasure of taking care of you, you wouldn’t have to worry about a damn thing.”
Sitting back with a breathless giggle, you rocked faster. “Well, when you put it that way, I would have to be stupid to say no to the lovely gentleman who accidentally ordered a prostitute.” Satoru’s chest heaved as he watched your hands move to the robe's sash. “But there’s just one thing we should do before we proceed with this agreement.”
Your hips moved painfully slow over Satoru’s cock. He thought he might lose himself if you kept going at that pace. “Y-Yeah, fuuuck, what is that sweetheart?” With a gentle tug on the sash, Satoru stared at you in awe as you exposed your naked body to him. “O-Oh my god, you’re beautiful, so pretty.” Reaching down, you unbuttoned his pants with a purpose, taking your bottom lip between your teeth with a giggle.
”I need to show you my resume.”
The next day, Gojo returned to Tokyo with a bag full of taro mochi and a girlfriend on his arm. Ordering that robe from a tiny love hotel was the best accident he’d ever made. You couldn’t have agreed more with him,
Nanami Kento:
Nanami was a very busy man who was constantly working and valued the little free time that he had. On his days off, he liked to go out to eat and partake in a few drinks. Other times, he likes to stay at home reading a book and enjoying a glass of wine.
Living this sort of lifestyle could be very lonely at times. Typically Nanami had no problem or issue with going out on dates, but some nights he would prefer to just fuck his frustrations out. And without a partner, he found it challenging to fulfill his desires at times.
Eventually, the pent-up frustration had become too much for him to handle. So, without another choice, he called an escort service where he met you. Your first initial meeting had been a consultation of sorts. Nanami asked for your limits and what you were okay with. When he decided you would be a perfect partner, he paid you in advance, gave you a safe word, and nearly destroyed you the night you were hired.
Your hands were being held behind your back with one of Nanami’s. His other hand was forcing your head into the mattress as he fucked into you brutally. His cock hits your g-spot and cervix with every pull. Nanami Kento was like a growling beast above you as your tight, wet walls hugged him.
”That feels good, love?” He asked in a husky feral tone, his hips grinding snuggly against your ass. The tip of his cock, in turn, teased your g-spot, rubbing it just enough to stimulate the spongy spot. But there wasn’t enough pressure to send you over the edge you were dangerously teetering on. “I—“ Nanami’s hand left your head, striking your ass with a powerful strike, “asked you a question.” Another slap, this one hard enough to have your walls clenching around his veiny cock. “And when I ask you a question, I expect an answer.”
Nanami’s hand massaged the sting out of your ass. “Y—Yes god, yes it feels s-so good N-Nanami!” His hips rocked faster against your ass, “Oooh, Nana—”
“Kento.” A sharp growl interrupted you. “Call me Kento—” His fingers left your ass, wrapping around the tails of the yellow spotted tie he had blindfolded you with. “When I’m fucking you into the mattress.”
He tugged the ends of the tie, forcing your head back and causing your arch to deepen. The sudden change of position results in Nanami’s cock bullying the tip harshly over your sweet spot he’s been torturing for what seems like hours. You cried out as drool dripped down your chin, pooling on the sheets. Your walls were beginning to hug him in pulsing waves; you were so close. Nanami felt it, too. Releasing your hands, he grabbed your hip to steady himself as he began fucking your tight cunt like he hated her.
”Say my name, say it, scream it out loud. I want the entire complex to know who makes you feel this euphoric pleasure.”
”Kento!”
”Louder.”
”Kento!!”
“You. Can. Do. Better. Then. That.” Each word was punctuated by a fast jabbing thrust right against your cervix.
”KENTO!” Your scream bounced off the walls. Making both you and Kent’s ears ring as you came around him, soaking the sheets as he fucked you through the intense orgasm and into his own.
”Cumming!” He growled against your shoulder blade. Beads of sweat ran down his brow, dripping onto your sensitive skin. “Good girl love, take it all, take every last drop I give you.” He kissed and nipped at your skin as his cum filled you.
Once his hips had finally stilled and you could form coherent thoughts, his whole demeanor changed from a frustrated, fuming mass of a man to a gentler soul. His fingers undid the tie around your head before gently massaging circles over your aching joints. His lips trailed soft, gentle kisses over your sweat-shimmering skin. You found yourself leaning into his touch, longing for more. You were desperate to feel every inch of the man who had just fucked you within an inch of your life.
Not many of your clients liked you to do that. Leaning into them once that had quite literally finished using you. They would shove you away before kicking you outNanami Kento was different. The second he felt you shift, leaning towards his body heat, his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his body, spooning you.
That first night was the start of your partnership with Nanami. He would fuck you to the brink of death before slowly reviving you with gentle kisses, words of affirmation, and aftercare. Nanami quickly became your favorite client; whenever his name appeared on your schedule, you felt as light as air.
Typically, these sorts of relationships stayed strictly professional and revolved around sex. So when you showed up to his apartment one Friday evening, ready to see the pearly gates, you were shocked to be offered a glass of wine. Not only that, but he led you to his dining room, where he pulled out your chair as he served you the delicious dinner he had prepared for just the two of you.
”I thought we’d try something a little different tonight.” He’d confessed in the low flickering glow of the candlelight. “If that’s alright with you, of course.”
You agreed without hesitation, smiling lovingly. Nanami was the client; whatever he wanted to do, you’d be willing to try. You’d had several different clients and gone through so many other kinks. You liked to imagine with all of that, you had a pretty good amount of experience under your belt. Nanami, however, had surprised you for the first time in a very long time.
Some nights, he just wanted a normal, quiet dinner, watch a movie, and go to bed with you in his arms. The initial request had been a bit of a shock, but it was a good one. After that night, your visits with Nanami began alternating from rough, god-like se to sweet, gentle evenings.
Tonight was one of those mundane nights you’d grown to love just as much as the crazy, wild sex you two had. But you found yourself loving these quiet little nights a bit more where you were currently resting your head in his lap as he played with your hair. His eyes roamed over the pages of his newest book.
”Mmm, I love nights like this.” You whispered, shutting your eyes.
”I love you more.” Nanami said while turning his page, not even paying attention to the stunned expression pasted over your face. All he did was smile warmly. “You don’t have to say it back.”
”I love you too.” You answered just as fast.
”Mmm, then perhaps we should consider ripping up our contract. I would prefer to be your boyfriend rather than your client.” That was the night that you had retired, and the night Nanami deleted his account on your escorts page.
Ryomen Sukuna: (modern CEO AU)
Sukuna would purchase an escort for sure, no doubt. He'd go through a site and pick the one he thought was the most beautiful. He would then ask you to come to his apartment to complete your services. The man could fuck; he fucked you hard, deep, and fast. He took you against the door the first time you visited his apartment. Once he was done, he paid you and saw you out.
The following week, Sukuna requested you again. This time he picked up dinner before he fucked your throat while he watched a movie he'd put on for the two of you to enjoy. His large hand was rugged and pulled on your hair, forcing you to take more of him down your throat before yanking you off and giving you a chance to breathe before pushing you back down on his thick throbbing dick. When he finished, he handed you bent over the coffee face buried in your pussy, lapping at your clit.
Sukuna might have been rough and demanding, but he never once hurt you. He always ensured both of you came hard, never leaving you unsatisfied. He quickly became one of your favorite clients. Every Friday night, you'd happily skip to his condo, and every Friday, he would rock your world.
“Oh~ god fuck~!!” Sukuna snarled as you rocked back against him. “Fuuuck~” The bustling city and honking horns sounded from below as your hand gripped his balcony railing. “God, you take my cock so good~”
“Kuna~ Kuna s-so good!” you slam yourself back faster in his cock, losing yourself in the wet squelching sounds that fill your ears.
Sukuna’s hands grope at the fat of your ass, squeezing it as he pulls you harder against him. A smirk tugs at his mouth at the whimpers that shake through you. “I'll never get over how good you feel~” He groaned deeply as his hips snapped faster, his free hand rubbing circles around your swollen clit. “Maybe I should have you stay for a weekend~ maybe longer.” Manicured nails scrape over the metal of the railing as you dip your head forward. “Would you like that~? Being my live-in slut? Huh?” Pillow talk: this was just pillow talk.
“I-I'd like that a-a lot!” you sobbed as his cock hit the deepest part of you. “P-Please Kuna~ I need you.”
“Ah~ you'll get it, my queen, ~ you're gonna get a thick fucking load shoved so deep, you'll be dripping my cum out for days~.”
“Yes! Full me up! Fill me up!”
The begging tone of your voice has Sukuna wishing there wasn't a condom separating him from your wet heat. One of these days, he’ll make sure that he gets to feel all of you. For now, he was more concerned with just feeling you cum around him. He’d take care of the rest later.
“Then cum for me, my sweet little slut.” With a jab at your g-spot, you do as he commands. You scream, not caring about the people walking down below or his neighbors. All that matters in this current moment is losing yourself as Sukuna fucks you through the scream-inducing orgasm and into his own.
“Nggh! Fuckin’ slut!” His grunt of pleasure is bitten off by an almost demonic roar as his cum fills the condom.
You both rock slowly against the other, skin-hitting skin in soft—plops before Sukuna sits on his patio sofa with you in his lap. He's groaning on the nape of your neck as his hands gently massage your hips. Humming softly, you look up at the stars, wishing this moment could last forever.
Where he wasn’t a client, and you weren't an escort. The more you came to his condo on Friday nights, the more you didn't want to leave. But he was paying you for an evening, so the chances of this escalating into something more were slim to none. So you would just be thankful for the moments you had.
The night ended like every other Friday. He gave you the cash, walked you to the lobby, and kissed your cheek. “See you soon.” He said as he helped you into a taxi and waved you off.
When he said soon, you had been thinking he meant next Friday soon. But the following day? Yeah, that was a shock. You had just been called into your manager's office, finding Sukuna leaning against the wall while your manager counted big stacks of money.
“What’s happening?” The question was almost inaudible as your manager leaned back with a sickening smirk.
“This gentleman has bought out your contract, so as of this moment, you’re fired.”
“W-Wha—?!” you don't even get to question your manager as Sukuna is dragging you out. “Kuna?! What the hell is happening?!”
The man who just bought you out of a lifestyle you didn't care for cocked a pink brow. “I asked you last night if you wanted to live with me. You said yes. Buying your contract out was the next step.” He leads you to a sleek black car. “Don't think just because I bought you out of your contract means I assume I own you. You're free to do whatever you please. I enjoy your company.”
“So I can go home whenever I want.”
“Yep.”
“And if I want to stay with you?”
“You can.”
You don't even hesitate; you leap into his arms and kiss him. “Mmm, good, take me home,” Sukuna smirks, kissing you back as he loads you into the car.
“Home it is.”
Geto Suguru:
Geto was searching for a place to stay when he first met you. Back then, you weren't even an escort yet. He was looking for an inn with rooms opened; he'd been informed by one of his cult members of a curse that would be perfect for him to absorb.
At twenty years old, he walked into his first brothel, fully intending to get a room for the night. The establishment reeked of booze and sex, but it was the only place with room available, and the curse he'd just swallowed was one of the worst he'd tasted. Resting was the best thing he could do before returning home.
Once in his room, the best room in the entire building, there was a knock on the door to his room. The manager of the building shoved you inside. You hit Geto’s chest with a wince before the manager bowed his head to Geto. The man you ran into glanced over you; you were dressed in thin white garments before his dark eyes met the man in the doorway.
“What is the meaning of this?”
“A welcome gift, as a token of my appreciation of you buying our best room. I had heard you hadn't ordered any escorts, so please take her as you. She’s a virgin.” Small curses and little leeches appeared, crawling all over the man. These curses typically came from greed and lust, sucking the life out of everything. And the man was covered in them.
Geto felt his stomach twist as he glowered at the stupid monkey—another reason he had to rid the world of these parasites. This man was a disgusting creature who was selling off women like this. But for all he knew, you were just a monkey, too. There was no point for him to waste his time
“I do not need such services.” The handsome man announced, shoving you back to the manager. As he did, one of the leeches lurched for you, and you held up a hand in disgust. Suguru watched as the curse hit a barrier before fading into black ash.
So you weren’t a useless human.
”Oh, I see very well. Come girl, I can use you for the party tonight ins—“
”On second thought, it was rude of me to refuse your offer. I will gladly accept her.” The manager beamed with excitement while you glared at him in disgust.
” Excellent choice, my lord; I will leave you to it.”
The second the door to his room shut, Suguru turned to you, watching you angrily undo the sash at your waist. “Hurry up.” You barked out, voice trembling as you laid on the bed as stiff as a board.
”I have no intention of touching you.” Suguru said, tilting his head to the side with a grin. “I do, however, have questions regarding your technique.”
”Technique?”
Geto sat on the bed next to you, explaining what he had seen you do. You, in turn, told him your life's story. How you could see curses since you were a child, how your parents sold you off to repay a debt. You confided in him that you had been the errand girl for the brothel since you turned eighteen, but when the manager saw your beauty, he started insisting you begin taking customers. Now that you were twenty, he had grown tired of your denials and decided tonight would be the night he offered you for free to any willing customer.
Suguru was disgusted and offered to handle the problem, but you politely declined, stating you would stay. If you didn’t repay your parent's debt, your younger sister would be sold off next, and you refused to allow that to happen.
“I just hate for my first time to be auctioned off to the highest bidder. And once you leave, I know I'll be paraded around some more.” Suguru could see the sorrow in your eyes as you brought your knees to your chest, hugging yourself. “I wouldn't have minded you being my first customer.”
”I will confess, I have never done anything like this myself.” His cheeks flushed as he gently placed his hand over yours. “Perhaps we could be each other’s firsts?”
You were no fool; you knew this would be an ideal opportunity for women in your position. With shaking hands, you cupped Geto's face and kissed him. He was almost too stunned to react, but as you gently rubbed his shoulders, he slowly melted into your touch, kissing you back earnestly. Both of you gently removed your clothes, kissed, and ran your hands down each other's bodies, losing yourself in the other's touch. It was tender and slow. You were mapping out the other, caressing chests, legs, and lips overheated skin.
But those gentle kisses turned into desperate ones, tongues sliding gently against the other, fingers buried inside you while your hand wrapped around him, stroking him. When you were both hot and needy, Suguru gently pushed himself inside of you, pausing as you winced at the sharp sting that accompanied him. Seeing the way you wince, both pained and pleased Suguru. He felt terrible for causing you the briefest moment of pain, but he was also glad that he was the one doing it. Anyone else would have been far too rough with you, and you deserved a memorable first time.
A memorable moment that was not going to last very long because you were so tight, and he was already seconds from losing control. “G-Geto~” you whispered as he kissed your neck, up to your ear, nibbling on the lobe as he gently thrust in and out of you. “Ahhn Geto~” He whined in your ear before chuckling breathlessly.
“Suguru.” He corrected, pulling back to stare into your eyes. “Call me Suguru.”
”S-Suguru.” You tested out, and upon hearing his name pass through your lips, his cock throbbed inside of you. “S-Suguru ah, yes Suguru~.”
“My princess, so warm~ so good.” Cries of your names were whispered into the other mouth as Suguru gently fucked into you, his gentle thrusts losing the messy rhythm he had begun with. “I-I’m sorry, but I’m already close.” His confession and thumb gently brushing over your clit, rubbing the bud back and forth, had you rolling with the waves of your impending orgasm.
”M-Me too, Suguru.”
You came at the same time as the man who had bestowed you with a gift not many other girls in your profession were granted, and for that, you were forever grateful. You almost cried tears of joy when he laid down next to you, holding you close to his chest, his hand gently rubbing up and down your back, caressing you to sleep. The following morning, Geto woke you up before he left. He was bidding farewell and leaving you with his cellphone number. He was persistent on you taking it, urging you to call him if you ever needed him.
Little did he know that your call would come one week later. Rainbow dragon landed outside of the brothel, and Suguru came bursting through the doors, eyes dark in fiery fury as he scanned the entryway finding the scumbag monkey that was a pathetic excuse for a manager cowering behind the bar. Suguru ignored him and bounded up the stairs, heading to the room you had first met.
Opening the door, he froze, finding you sitting on the bed, face swollen and bruised. “Princess?” He spoke softly, not to startle you. “What happened?” You motioned to the corner of the room where an unconscious man lay, a fork jammed into the side of his neck.
”My manager sent a customer to me without my knowledge. The man attacked me, but I fought him off before he could get what he wanted.” Suguru released one of his curses before pulling you into his arms, attempting to shield you from the gruesome sight of the man’s death, But you watched from over his shoulder, never once blinking.
”I’m taking you home with me.” His tone and words left no room for argument, not that you would. “Let’s go.” He lifted you into his arms, carrying you down the stairs, ignoring the whispers and glances in your direction. Before he took you outside to where Rainbow Dragon was waiting, he stopped turning towards the bar where the disgusting human who had betrayed you cowered. “Princess, what shall we do with him?”
You turned, one eye swollen shut, as the other burned with rage. “Kill him.” Suguru smiled coldly, releasing more curses that swarmed around the man. His screams filled you with joy as Suguru sat upon the back of his dragon, holding you close to his chest. As the cursed spirit took flight, you peered down as several girls and patrons escaped the building before it erupted into blue flames. “Worthless monkeys.” You spat out, cuddling into Suguru’s chest.
The next day, Geto happily watched as Nanako and Mimiko braided your hair while other members of his found family spoke with you. Suguru had made sure to get your sister away from your parents before he took care of them as he’d done to his mother and father. Your sister would be placed in the care of one of his devoted followers while you stayed by his side.
“Suguru,” You called out, smiling sweetly as you broke away from the girls. “What are you thinking about?”
He kissed your head, “Just admiring your beauty.” He took one of the braids the girls had done and kissed it. “I’m truly a lucky man.” You smiled this time, kissing him on the lips.
”I think we're both lucky.”
”That we are princess, that we are.”
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pedroshotwifey · 3 days
Note
Haunted by Beyonce and Joel Miller
ily x
Hey, baby! Hope you like it xoxo
Song: Haunted by Beyoncé
Pairing: QZ!Joel Miller x afab!reader
W/C: 974
Warnings: toxic relationship, slapping, rough sex, manhandling, unprotected piv sex, choking, mean joel, mean reader, hate sex, stalking (kind of?)
Haunted
You’ve been watching him since the break off. Not a break up, because you were never really together, but a break off because you both know whatever you had shouldn’t be happening. The rough and feral sex, the toxic quips, the pain and anger channeled through each other’s bodies. Working nine to five every day just to stay alive, and then coming home to beat your misery and frustration into each other’s broken and battered souls.
It was never love, never sweet affection or time taken to check in. No pleasantries or time spent without his cock inside of you or your hands ripping and tearing at clothes and skin. Just fury and pure need. You and Joel Miller do not like each other, which is why it’s so unfortunate to be addicted to each other’s bodies. 
You watch him walk down his hall now, and you can see the difference in his posture. The tension in his shoulders and the clench of his fist. You know that if you looked into his eyes, you would see a fire burning, yearning for destruction and pain—destruction and pain that he no longer has you to unleash within. 
You’ve been following him like a shadow, your body drawn to his in a primal way. And you know that he’s been following you, too. You’ve been haunting him, and he’s been haunting you. You’re onto him, you know that he must be onto you, too. 
You’ve ignored it—resisted it—enough. You start to stride after him. You don’t stop, unafraid to let your quick steps be heard, and you can tell the exact second he recognises them. He keeps walking, but instead of going further down to his room, he stops in front of your door, keeping his back to you. 
There are no words said, no glances exchanged, as you reach him and unlock the door. You open it to let him in, and then step inside yourself. He pins you to the door the second it shuts behind you, one hand wrapping threateningly around your throat as the other comes down across your cheek, forcing your face to the side. He brings his face level with yours, less than an inch between you. Hatred burns in his eyes, and you’re sure he can see it reflecting in your own. 
You surge forward and hungrily seize his lips in yours, your hands coming to pull at the shirt over his broad shoulders, gripping so tightly that you think you may rip the worn fabric. His teeth sink into your bottom lip, and you growl into him, tasting blood as you keep devouring him. 
He rips you from the door and manhandles you over to the couch, throwing you down and then unbuckling his belt. You work on your own pants, getting them off right before he grabs you again and flips you over. You grip the arm of the couch, lifting your ass for him. 
He uses one hand to grasp your hip in a bruising grip, tugging you back as he lines the blunt tip of his cock up with your entrance. You let out a strangled groan when he shoves into you with two quick thrusts, the stretch making you grit your teeth. It hurts, but it feels so good. A comforting kind of pain. 
He starts to slam into you at a brutal pace, his pelvis against your ass stinging with each thrust. He wraps his hand around the front of your neck again, cutting off your air flow just enough to make you light-headed. You know that it’ll hurt in the morning, but you also know that you’ll savor it. 
You get close quickly, as you usually do with him inside of you. Like your body’s been programmed to have such a response. You come around him just as he releases your throat and the air rushes back. Your head drops between your shoulders as you moan, your cunt squeezing around him and making him grunt. 
When you come down and gain some semblance of control over yourself, you push back on his hands, forcing him to let you go as you pull yourself off of his cock. He doesn’t protest—he knows what you’re doing. He moves to sit back and then waits until you climb over him, your hips on either side of his. 
You sink down on him quickly, your toes curling and your head throwing back when he slams into your cervix. His hands grip your ass and your own go to his face, one around his neck like he had done with you, and the other to his hair, tugging roughly to force him to watch you as you bounce on his cock, the drag of him against your slick walls making you keen. 
He holds your gaze, hatred laying thick in the damp air. Your clit rubs against his stomach in this position, stimulating you and starting to build another orgasm. You pull tighter on his hair with every lift of your hips, but he doesn’t flinch even as his dick twitches with the sting. 
You snarl as you come, your insides melting as you fall apart on top of him. He comes a second later with a similar expression. You ride out your orgasm, grinding slowly as he empties his load into your pussy, where it belongs. 
You don’t waste time to catch your breath before you pull off of him, his limp cock sliding out in a mess. He doesn’t wait either before he gets up and tucks his wet dick into his pants. You lay back on the couch and watch as he makes his way to the door, where he lingers for only a second. 
“This is the last time,” he says before shutting the door behind him. 
You both know it won’t be.
*****
I walk down the hallway You're lucky The bedroom's my runway Slap me! I'm pinned to the doorway Kiss, bite
It's what you do It's what you see I know if I'm haunting you You must be haunting me
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hanniedream · 19 hours
Text
drunken confessions with joshua hong.
warning: mentions of cheating but it doesn't actually happen, joshua is drunk.
a/n: the drunk shua brainrot is never leaving me i fear. and just so you know, whenever i post about drunk shua it's always @synthetickitsune's fault. always.
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you never fought with joshua. sure you had a few minor disagreements here and there as every normal couple do, but you can't think of a time when an argument between you has gotten this big. this time feels different, joshua had to physically remove himself from the situation and told you he had to go for a walk to get some air and clear his head.
a walk shouldn't take longer than thirty minutes, maybe an hour at most. at least that's what you thought, but the doorbell rings at close to 2am instead and you jump up from the couch where you had accidentally fallen asleep on while waiting for your boyfriend to come back so you can hopefully talk to him and clear the air before you go to bed.
you open the door to see a very drunk joshua being held up limply against seungcheol's side and you quickly move aside for them to come in.
"sorry for waking you," seungcheol says as he helps joshua lie down on the same couch you'd just gotten up from. "i was going to bring him back to mine but he insisted on coming back here."
you quickly shake your head, "don't worry about it. sorry for troubling you."
seungcheol smooths down his t-shirt as he stands back up then looks at you, "i don't know what happened exactly since he wouldn't say much, but judging from the way he was drinking earlier he must be pretty upset."
at the mention of your fight from earlier, you let out a sigh then give seungcheol a reassuring smile. "i'll talk to him tomorrow morning."
he doesn't say anything and only gives you a nod then heads for the door and you see him out with a quick "thank you".
turning around after shutting the door, you see joshua flip on his side as he tugs roughly on the collar of his button down plaid shirt. he must be uncomfortable. you pick out a t-shirt he often wears to sleep from the closet then go into the bathroom to get a wet wash cloth before coming back out into the living room.
"sit up," you tell joshua as you tap him on his shoulder lightly.
no response.
you attempt to pull him up into a sitting position and after struggling for what feels like forever, you finally succeed. with one hand, you brush his hair back from his face and start cleaning him up with the other. you're about to unbutton his shirt when his hand suddenly flies up to stop you.
"what are you doing?" he slurs with his eyes still shut tight, fingers tightly wrapped around your wrist.
"what do you think? i'm cleaning you up." you try to free your hand from his grasp but even while drunk, joshua was still a lot more stronger than you.
you try to undo his buttons with your other hand and you hear him mumbling something so you lean closer to him and you finally hear what he was saying.
"i'm in a relationship."
a fit of uncontrollable laughter escapes you at the ridiculousness of the situation once you understood what he thought was happening. you continue unbuttoning his shirt and you're about to remove it when joshua's hand shoots up to hold the collars together, preventing you from taking it off him.
"i don't know who you are or what you're trying to do," he struggles to get out between hiccups. "but i'm in a very loving and happy relationship and i hope you can respect that."
he throws his head back to rest against the cushion as he begins drunkenly rambling about how much he loves his "other half", how he pictures their future together and how he would never ever do anything to jeopardize that. you would definitely find the scene before you romantic and sweet if you didn't suddenly recall that right before this was your very first serious fight, the whole reason why joshua even got this drunk in the first place and now his intoxicated self is telling you how much he loves you and wants to potentially spend the rest of his life with you.
you don't have much time to be lost in your own thoughts and feelings though because joshua is trying to tell you something and he's signalling you to come closer.
"i can hook you up with a friend of mine though," he shoots you a cheeky grin and before you can even reject his idea, he's scrambling for his phone in his back pocket. the action nearly causing him to fall off the couch.
"soonyounggggg," he calls out loudly once the call gets connected and you roll your eyes. god, he sure is obnoxious when he's drunk.
he turns the phone over to you and you burst out laughing when you see an equally, if not more, drunk soonyoung looking back at you. his face was red and he can barely keep his eyes open.
"say hi," joshua instructs softly and you give the camera a half hearted wave. "soonyoung, would you be interested in meeting this person? like for a date?"
soonyoung leans closer to the screen and squints his eyes at you then he leans back with his lips pursed as if he's seriously considering joshua's suggestion.
"why are you not asking me if i'm interested in your friend?" you interrupt before soonyoung can answer.
joshua sits up slightly to look at you, "are you interested in meeting soonyoung?"
"no, i'm not."
"why not?" he whines. "soonyoung is amazing, he's cute and funny. oh, and he's a dancer too." he wiggles his brows at you suggestively.
you shrug, "i have a boyfriend."
joshua lets out a loud gasp as if you'd just told him something scandalous then he whispers, "why were you trying to undress me then?"
"because," you take his phone from his hand to end the call with soonyoung, "my boyfriend is drunk so i'm trying to get him cleaned up so we can go to sleep."
he looks at you with furrowed brows and you can almost see the gears in his head turning then he opens his mouth, "what has that got to do with what i asked you?"
"shua," you sigh as you rest your hands on his shoulders to look him in the eyes and you can see how hard he's trying to focus. "you're my boyfriend."
his mouth forms an 'o' before he tells you, "well... y/n isn't going to like what you just said."
you figured trying to reason with a drunk man isn't going to lead anywhere so you give up and make him drink some water then tell him to get some sleep before heading back to the bedroom. you're nearly at the door when your phone vibrates in your hand and you find a text from joshua that reads: hey.., im nit surw what exavtly happrned bit appatentlt weve brokwn up ans im seeng somwone else mow
joshua wakes up the next morning confused and with a pounding in his head. he looks around to check the surroundings and flashbacks of what happened before he left the house last night comes rushing back to him. he rushes to the bedroom to check if you were there only to find the room empty and the bed was made. did you leave the house after him and spent the night somewhere else? he goes back to the couch to check his phone and sees the last text he'd sent you and panic grows in him, it reads like a break up text and he needs to explain to you that that's not what he meant. he checks his call log to see if he'd called you last night and finds that his last call was to soonyoung so he calls him to ask if he remembers what they had talked about.
"well, there was someone else there with you..." soonyoung closes his eyes as he tries to remember the details. "you said something about meeting for a date."
joshua's eyes widen. he'd brought someone else home? were you home when that happened? is that why you left?
all he can think about is how badly he'd fucked up and how he needs to fix this when he hears the sound of the front door unlocking and he quickly tells soonyoung he's ending the call.
"oh, you're awake." you glance at him briefly before kicking off your shoes.
he gives you a sheepish look then blurts out, "i didn't mean it."
you stop in your tracks then turn to him, "what?"
"what i said last night during our fight," he takes a deep breath to prepare himself for what he's about to reveal, "...and that text. i'm not breaking up with you and i'm not seeing anyone else."
the mention of the drunk text made you chuckle and joshua shoots you a confused look.
"i'm not sure what happened last night but i asked soonyoung and he said i might have brought someone home with me," he looks at the floor because he can't bear to look at your face and see how hurt by this you'd be but he hears you start laughing even louder and his head shoots up. "you don't care that i might have cheated on you?"
it's funny how hurt he sounds when he asks you this.
"shua..." you're breathless from all that laughing, "how can you cheat on me with me?"
"what do you mean?"
"that person soonyoung saw on the call was me."
you sit down next to him and proceed to explain everything that happened last night including his drunk confessions and ramblings then you both start laughing at the fact that joshua called soonyoung to set you up with him and you stop when you suddenly remember that you were still in the middle of an unresolved fight.
"but i thought we talked it out last night," he looks up at you with his big, doe eyes and he knows it works like a charm every time, "with my love confessions and all."
"you couldn't even recognise me and literally tried to set me up with soonyoung."
a pout forms on his lips, "i was drunk and also an idiot."
"yeah, you are."
"but i'm an idiot who's very, very sorry."
"you'd better be."
"i am," he says with a firm nod then he reaches for your hands and is relieved when you don't move away. "and i'm also an idiot who loves you very much."
you're silent and he squeezes your hands gently, "i'm also an idiot who's begging for your forgiveness and will die if you don't forgive me."
you pull your hands out from his to hold them instead and you let out a sigh. "i'm also an idiot that's sorry about what happened."
joshua smiles at you then leans in to kiss you softly and you feel his smile grow when you kiss him back.
"so i'm guessing you don't want to date soonyoung?"
"i'm breaking up with you."
joshua pulls you back down when you try to stand up, "so you can date soonyoung?"
you shove him away, "now you're just pushing it."
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pinkie-pop · 3 days
Text
"Reincarnated As The Cringefail Lord of Hell's Second Child."
Part I Part || Part III
Sequel to this.
Featuring: Gender-Neutral Reader, Morningstar! Reader, Platonic Hazbin Hotel x Reader, Yandere Hazbin Hotel
Word count: 2.7k
Includes: Alastor being creepy, invasion of (your) privacy, bad things are coming...
Synopsis: A straightforward isekai story, you're reborn as the devil's child. With knowledge of your past life and the show your new world is based on, it's clear that you must be destined for greatness. The only question remains: why does everyone around you seem to be acting so...strange?
•~•~•~•~•~•~•
There's nothing better than the payoff that a successful scheme brings. Vaggie returns to the hotel a few hours after your talk with her, and with her is a pair of two gorgeous angelic wings.
“Wait, yer an exorcist?!” Angel exclaims, throwing his top arms up, and using his bottom pair to pull himself up from his position on the couch. “How did I not know about this?!” He looks around, shaking his head wildly. Husk merely shrugs. 
“Maybe if you weren't high all the time-”
“Oh, yeah, like yer one to talk, Mr. Hasn't-been-seen-without-a-bottle-in-seven-years!”
Charlie claps her hands together, effectively stopping the two before their banter turns into an actual fight. “Okay, so Vaggie's an angel, that doesn't mean that-” 
“Oh yeah, easy for you to say, Princess. I bet ya already knew about this, didn't ya?” 
“I mean, I did. But-!” 
“Then why didn't ya say anything?!”
“It wasn't my place to-”
Angel dramatically falls back onto the couch. Odd, you think, his reaction wasn't nearly this strong in the show, why is he- “Whatever. I need a drink,” he says getting up. “Husk! Pour me a drink!” Husk grumbles something under his breath as Angel passes you to get his drink. 
“I think he's over it,” you say, glancing over your shoulder at Angel, who is drinking straight from the bottle. “So, an angel, huh? How exciting! My dad was an angel, too, y'know?” Vaggie looks unimpressed at your attempt to pretend this is new information, but you ignore her. 
“Yeah…I know,” she says flatly. “Anyway, Carmilla agreed to supply us with angelic weapons at a discounted price, should we need them.” 
“Why would we need them?” Charlie asks, looking worried. Vaggie looks away, briefly making eye contact with you. 
‘Something’s going to happen on extermination day,’ you say, looking oddly certain. 
“Just…in case,” she says, offering an unsure smile. 
“Well ain't that fuckin’ ominous,” Angel pipes up from the bar. “Care ta enlighten us as ta why we might need em, toots? Something a little less vague than ‘Just in case'?” Angel puts down his drink (which is really just a whole bottle of what appears to be a mix of tequila and vodka—it’s a good thing he's already dead, you think to yourself) to make air quotes with his hand. 
“Angel, I think you're drunk,” you say, diffusing the situation. “You're slurring your words.” He's not, but you figure the statement will draw his attention towards you and away from Vaggie. You don't need him prying and accidentally figuring out something he shouldn't know.
“Am not slurin’ my words” He slurs, then slumps over, immediately falling asleep in an almost cartoonish fashion. Well, you suppose you are in a cartoon, you think to yourself, but you know that's not the reason for his sudden drunken state.
No, you're sure the sleeping spell you cast on him was by far the more likely cause. 
Alastor, who had been quietly observing the whole time, widens his grin with a look that seems to say ‘I know you did that’ but you ignore his gaze and ask Charlie for help taking Angel back to his room. 
While Charlie is busy tucking a grown man into bed, you slip out of the room and bump right into Alastor, who seems to have followed the two of you back to Angel's room. 
You have a bad feeling about this. Of all the many characters in Hazbin Hotel to avoid, Alastor probably ranked at the top of your list. You really don't need him getting curious about you.
“Why, hello there, little one,” he says, peering down at you. You think his eyes may be glowing, but you aren't sure. 
“Uh, hi?” you say, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. You glance back at the door. Charlie will be emerging from it soon. She'll save you, right?
“I couldn't help but notice the little ‘stunt’ you pulled with dear Angel Dust earlier—quite amusing, I must say! And I don't say that lightly. Might I ask you to join me on a stroll so that we might…discuss it?” He asks. You swear the room’s temperature just dropped. 
“I'm not going anywhere with you,” you say. “Dad told me not to talk to strangers.” 
“Ah, still playing the role of an innocent child now, are we?” He says casually. You stand a little straighter. “Not to worry, I'm a good friend of your sister, and besides, we have much to discuss!”
“We don't have anything to ‘discuss’,” You say firmly, moving to walk past him when he grabs your arm. 
“You may not have anything to discuss with me, but I have much to say to you,” he says. His tone then shifts to something more dangerous as he says, “And believe me,” he leans down to your level. “You don't want to see me when I get angry.” It's a cliché line and not at all scary. Even with the voodoo sigils floating around him and his radio-knob irises, you hold firm. 
“If I scream, Charlie and the rest of the hotel will hear me,” you say. The static around you dissipates, and Alastor's grin twitches in annoyance. 
“Very well,” he says, swinging his cane and turning to leave. “But this won't be our last encounter. Sooner or later, you'll give me the answers I want.” And just like that, he walks away. 
Once he's out of view, you sink to your knees. Despite your firm insistence that he didn't scare you, it was stressful nonetheless. Having him leave merely sucked the stress out of you, and momentarily took the strength from your legs. 
Yes, that's right. That's all it was. Your human nature makes you wary of him, but your demonic side keeps you steady. Soon, you'll be more demon than human, and this so-called ‘fear’ will be nothing more than a fleeting memory. 
Not that you were scared. 
“[Name]…? What are you doing on the floor?”
“It's comfortable down here,” you mutter, standing to your feet. “I'm going to bed early tonight. Where's my room again?”
•~•~•~•~•~•~•
You flop on to your and Lucifer's bed (king-sized, thanks to Lucifer's magic), exhausted. You bring your stuffed demon bear (Mr. Snuggles—a gift from Lilith, before she left) to your chest and sigh. You close your eyes. A lot happened today, and you could use some rest. 
But before that…
You open your eyes and sit upright, swinging your legs over the bed and standing. You walk to the small writing desk by the door and summon your diary from seemingly thin air, and begin writing. Journaling is a habit you formed as soon as you were able to hold a pen (this has left the first few entries of your diary completely illegible, but you were able to transcribe them once you had developed a steadier hand), and something you kept up to this day. You document today’s events, making sure to note Alastor’s suspicious behavior, then close and lock your diary. It’s a rather unnecessary step, considering you’ll be sending it back to the subspace you summoned it from, but the lock puts you at ease regardless. 
You’ve just finished clicking the lock back into place when Lucifer walks in.
“What’s that?” He asks curiously, walking over to take a peek. Without thinking of how suspicious your actions may come across, you quickly dismiss the journal back to your subspace. 
“Nothing!” You say, a tad too loudly. You clear your throat. “Nothing,” you say, quieter, this time. Lucifer opens his mouth to speak, and you realize you need to change the subject, and fast. “Um, I just realized we didn't bring any clothes with us. If we're going to be staying here, we'll need to get some.” Lucifer seems to hesitate before taking your bait, using magic to summon your wardrobe from the palace to the hotel’s drawers. You pick out a pair of pajamas and head to the bathroom to change, while Lucifer uses magic to change his own clothes instantly. When you return, he's already in bed, smiling and eagerly patting the space next to him.
Wait…what's in his hand?
You take a closer look. 
Isn't that…? 
Oh God. 
Oh fuck. 
“Dad, I don't-” 
“C'mon, sweetie, let me read you a bedtime story!” He says, opening the book of fairytales, eyes practically shining. It's endearing, in a way, the way he constantly tries to be a good father to you. But it's also annoying. You're a grown adult, for Christ's sake. You don't want to be read a bedtime story.
But it's not like you can just tell him that. 
“...Okay,” you say, climbing up to the bed and nestling yourself beside him.
It's surprisingly soothing. A hellish retelling of Cinderella, spoken to you in a soft, rhythmic voice. It reminds you of ASMR, in a way. You find yourself drifting off to sleep before you even realize you're tired.
•~•~•~•~•~•~•
[Name] fell asleep. 
It’s not surprising, the story Lucifer read to you is known to make children sleepy. Still, he was half-expecting it to fail, or for you to refuse to listen to a story altogether. 
You look so young, curled up like this. So innocent. 
You look like a kid.
Lucifer’s stomach churns. What were you writing about? He knows he should respect your privacy, but…
Something tells him it’s important. He’s seen you write in that notebook before. He knows it’s a diary.
He shouldn’t read it.
He shouldn’t but…
Lucifer taps into the subspace you’ve been using (you may be unusually good at magic for your age, but you’re still a novice. You haven’t learned to secure your network yet.). He pulls out your diary but pauses when he sees the lock. 
He could open it with nothing more than a wave of his hand if he wanted to (and God, he did want to). But it feels wrong. Like he’s encroaching on something sacred. 
If he puts it back now, nothing will change. He’ll stay ignorant. You’ll keep your secrets. But your relationship won’t be affected. The two of you will go back to playing family, and he’ll never know what’s so important to you that you created a private network and a lock to keep it hidden.
He could do that, but…
He opens the diary. The first few pages are impossible to decipher, but pages 6 and onwards are legible. 
October 3rd, 20XX
This is a transcription of the following days: September1st, September 9th, September 16th, and September 22nd.
‘September 1st…? They couldn’t have been older than a month old when this was written,’ Lucifer thinks. Demons develop themselves faster than humans, but even by a demons standard, learning to read and write within just a month of being born is…unheard of.
Lucifer keeps reading.
September 1st, 20XX
I’m finally strong enough to crawl around and hold a pen. Thank goodness. Being trapped in a body you can’t control with nothing but your thoughts to keep you company is pure torture. Though, I suppose this is hell. Perhaps that was the point…? No, if that were the case, I’d never be able to walk and write, let alone so fast. I haven’t been able to keep track of the days, and the clocks are all too high to read, so I have no idea how long I’ve been here, but I saw a calendar hanging in the kitchen. I hope it’s up to date. 
I was able to pinch myself today, but it didn’t hurt. I’d count it as evidence that I’m in a dream but…well, it could also just mean that I’m too weak for it to work. I’ll try again once I’m a little bigger. 
Dreams don’t usually last this long, do they? Perhaps I’m in a coma. I must’ve gotten into a horrible accident, and I’m on the verge of death. This is just my brain spitting out random information from my subconscious. That’s why Lucifer and Lilith are here. That’s why I’m in Hazbin Hotel. It can’t be anything else.
Lucifer furrows his eyebrows. How did you know about the hotel, seven years before its opening?
September 9th, 20XX
Lilith gave me a Teddy bear today. She called it a hell bear. It’s cute, and something I probably would have kept in my room before all this. It’s less babyish than the rest of the things she’s given me. Lucifer named it for me. Mr. Snuggles, he says, in a mock baby voice. It’s bad. I know I’m in the body of a baby right now, but it still feels a little belittling whenever he does that. I used to pay taxes, you know! Sure, I liked cute things every now and again, but I was still a bona fide working adult. …Mr. Snuggles is a cute name, though. 
A working adult? Taxes? You thought his baby voice was stupid?
Okay, maybe that last one was less important, but still. Ouch.
September 16th, 20XX
I finally found the library. Goodbye, boredom! 
Lack of proper stimulation was slowly killing me. If I were an actual baby, the mobile and fairytales would probably have been enough to keep me sated, but, well, you know.
Anyway, the novels I’ve been reading lately have been pretty good, I think I’m able to more or less pick out which ones belonged to who. Mostly by the way they’re organized. The novels stored in the shelves under the staircase all have happy endings and sappy romance, they seem to be Charlie’s. The stories near the front have badass female protagonists and are usually crime mysteries and thrillers, probably belonging to Lilith. The informationals on various animals and other special interests are likely Lucifer’s. And the books in the very back…are all pornography. I’m not sure whose those are, and I’m not really sure I want to know.
Lucifer’s face turns bright red, and he nearly squeaks, but he manages to reel himself in and continue reading.
September 22nd 20XX
I’m able to crawl up stairs now. The second floor of the library is filled with Grimores. They contain complicated mathematical formulas and intricate sigils. I’ve done the math over and over, but I can’t seem to find any flaws with them. I’m not smart enough to have come up with the formulas on my own, so unless I’m doing something wrong, there’s a pretty good chance that this isn’t a dream after all. 
Come to think of it, you’re not supposed to be able to read in dreams, either. 
…I just pinched myself. Ouch.
Lucifer’s mind is racing. Nothing about this makes sense, and yet it explains so much, and yet—
He flips the page.
October 4th, 20XX
It took me a few days, but I’ve finally accepted this as my new reality. I’ve transmigrated into the body of [Name], a never before seen and likely nonexistent character of Hazbin Hotel, who just so happens to share the same name as myself. 
It’s…a tough pill to swallow. I miss my family, my friends, my home.
I may never be able to go back. But I have to try. I’ll read every grimore in the library, even the ones written in ancient languages, I’ll find a way to translate them, I’ll learn the language if I have to. Whatever it takes, I will see this done. I can’t give up. Even if I have to lose what it means to be human, even if I have to become a demon, that’s okay, once I’m back, I can relearn  what it means to be human. There’s so much I haven’t done back on Earth. So much I’ve never seen. So much I’ve never done, never said. I have too many regrets to just sit back and accept this.
I’ll find a way home.
You’re…leaving?
Home? You’re already home. This is your home now. These past seven years, have they all been a lie? Did it really mean nothing to you? Did he mean nothing to you?
Sure, you’ve always been distant, always been a bit too mature, but you were still a child. You were still his child. 
Weren’t you?
You’re…going to leave. To throw him away. Just like Lilith. 
No, he can’t lose you too. He won’t. He’ll find a way to stop you. 
Even if it means you can’t smile the way you used to, even if it means you don’t love him the same. He has to keep you. 
But he can’t do it alone.
Tucking the diary under his arm, Lucifer is careful not to wake you as he leaves your shared bedroom.
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szasfuckingwife · 3 days
Text
DESIRE- pt 1
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KING!SATORU X QUEEN READER
WARNINGS: arranged marriage, minor misogyny, dysfunctional family relationship
A/N: I am quite excited for this series, lets just see if I don’t give up on it halfway through, lol
series master list —> part two
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It was far late from noon when one of your ladies ran into your room. Just when you thought your duties for the day were done, here comes another. Although it may seem easy living in your estate as princess with a thousand maids at your beck and call, you were also being groomed and moulded to be the best queen for your country.
“Your highness, your father writes to you.” She has a white letter in her hands. Knowing her, you wouldn’t be surprised if she opened the letter and read it herself.
A sigh leaves your lips as you hear it’s from your father, the king. Feigning a healthy father-daughter relationship was harder than it looks. In reality, you hadn’t seen your father regularly since he sent you to live in Seymour Manor when you were four. The only times you recall seeing him is during galas and balls where his attention is caught between the fine port being served or being involved in a dance, not you.
Your thumb grazed over the red Royal seal that your father was known for. Reluctantly, you open the letter, reading the words carefully.
To my darling daughter,
I hope the standards and degree of the manor has provided you with the upmost guidance as you reach this new age of womanhood. I wish to see you again as we approach our new season.
However, I do not write you to discuss your wellbeing, unfortunately. I wish to discuss your betrothal to Sir Satoru Gojo of the Gojo clan. His father, the head of the Gojo clan, wishes to see you and his son marry before the year ends.
I will not hasten you, daughter. But, as princess of our great kingdom, I do wish to see what you will do once you become queen. More importantly, if you will produce an heir that will continue our great monarchy. I rest assured knowing the nannies and ladies at Seymour Manor have groomed you into being the perfect wife to Satoru and the perfect queen for our nation.
May God be with you,
Your father.
This is the 5th letter he’s sent about this Satoru Gojo since some months ago. You crumble it up and throw it behind you, like you’ve done before. Who is he to rush you into marrying a man you’ve never met? You’ve hardly ‘met’ with your father.
“Augusta, remind our mailman that I will not receive any more letters from my father-” “But, your highness..” Your maid interrupts.
You look at her softly, “My father must be having you all nervous. Trust me, Augusta, that man is not to be feared. Oh, are you scared? You shouldn’t be. Tell the mailman it is the princess’ direct orders.”
“Your highness…” She sighs. “A carriage awaits you outside from the palace. Along with your bags…”
She sees your features soften as you come to the realisation. The joints in your body stiffened up as you blinked at her a couple more times, trying to spot dishonesty. But, to no avail.
You were getting sent down to the palace, whether you liked it or not.
“My lady-” “Very well.” You purse your lips as you exit the room.
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The manor became smaller and smaller as you begin your journey. Memories of you playing with toys when you were a toddler and running around in the outside fields plague your mind.
It was home. No mother. No father. No worries. Just the maids and nannies raising you into the open minded woman you are. They were the mother(s) you never had. It made you fear how quickly your happiness could be snatched away.
“Excited, my lady?” Your father’s footman asked. God knows why he was selected to chaperone your travel. He saw you glare at him before returning your gaze back yo the window.
“Take this as an opportunity, your highness. Soon, you will be married and produce a surplus amount of heirs for your kingdom.” He says, a little too excitedly.
You sigh. “James?”
He sits up, “Yes, my lady?”
“Stop talking.” You sarcastically smile.
As you arrive to the palace, you see your father stand outside the front stairs of the palace. He looks mighty in his royal clothing, a proud smile adorns his face as your carriage comes to a stop, like he raised you.
It was unnerving seeing your father standing alone. It was just last winter where your mother succumb to a terrible illness and met her maker. If you weren’t in this predicament you’re in now, you’d count that as the most depressive moment in your life.
Your father’s footman offered his hand, helping you step out of the carriage. The king speed walked down the steps, grinning from ear to ear. You curtsey in front of him, almost second nature to you.
“Hello, father,” the words leave your mouth bitterly. “How are you?”
“Better now you are here, darling.” His eyes squinted as he smiled. “Please, tell me, how was your travel?”
Another fake smile plasters your face, “A little home sick. However, I was fine.”
His fave dropped, “Well, this is your home now, dear. You are at rest when you are here.”
You watch him as he takes a deep breath in, “That is good. Well, what are you all waiting for?! Accompany my daughter with her things as she settles into her new home.”
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You’re left with your thoughts as you sit on your new bed. The only thing that comes to mind is how your freedom is gone and now in the hands of this Satoru Gojo.
Wonders of his appearance come flooding into your mind. What would he look like? He could be some scrawny adolescent. No, your father couldn’t give the title of ‘King’ to a child. Maybe he was an old man. As old as your father. His belly round and his hair fading.
Goosebumps plague your skin as someone suddenly walks into your room.
“My lady, the garments have arrived.” A maid walks in.
Your brow raises, “Garments? I did not send for garments.”
She smiles, “My apologies, your betrothed sent them.” Some more people walk in, holding beautiful dresses. They contrast your everyday dresses you wear back home, where the thoughts of marriage never crossed your mind and days ended when you passed out in the fields.
“My betrothed..?”
“He sent these for you to wear tonight during dinner. It’ll be you, him, his mother and father and of course, the King.” She says merrily. “He must be enamoured by your beauty.”
Your brow rises, the fabric used is clearly expensive and foreign. Silky satin and the brightest purple that has ever met the eye. It was all too grand. A huge contrast from your country-house dresses you grew to love.
But beautiful nonetheless.
Whoever this Gojo Satoru was, he was playing his cards right.
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Everything tells you to run out of the palace gates as you head downstairs for dinner. If you took off your shoes, you could make it to the town hall. Or was it the boutique?
It had been so long you’ve forgotten what surrounds the palace. Soldiers would definitely catch you within seconds.
A sound of laughters interrupts your thoughts. It’s your father’s and someone else’s. Before you could even breathe into the room, you are held back as you remember you are to be announced.
“Her highness, Princess Y/N!” A butler announced.
All murmurs stop as you walk in the room. The Gojo clan stood up upon your arrival. You noticed the smiles of the mother and the father and then your eyes landed on a man no other suitor could compare to.
His hair was snow white, it reminded you of snowy days where you cosied up to the fire place. His eyes were cerulean, bright and blue. But his stare made you feel small. The way he looked at you, like he was analysing your demeanour, how you walked, how you carried yourself.
They all bowed as you took your seat. “Pleasure to meet you, your highness.” The head of the Gojo clan grinned. “Your father has spoken highly of you. He’s assured you will be the perfect fit for our son.”
So, this is the infamous Satoru Gojo. The way they spoke of him, as if he is the prize. It was hard to not be egotistical considering you were, quite frankly, the future queen.
“Yes. This is a momentous occasion. We are currently witnessing the start of the of the next generation. I’m confident that Gojo will be a great king.”
You sit there, waiting for your father to mention you and how great you will take care of your kingdom. But your wishes were never grabted, they moved onto another topic swiftly.
Throughout dinner, Satoru kept locking eyes with you. Even with the jokes and banter your father and his were throwing about, his eyes lured you back in.
“We are to discuss the date of the wedding, and then the coronation. It should be quick and around the same time, we don’t want to string this along any more than we have.” The king spoke with a certain dominance that shook the bones of everyone in the room, but you of course.
Gojo’s father nodded, “Of course, your majesty. And may I thank you again for recognising Satoru as capable of being king.”
You clearly have missed a plethora of conversations and rumours of Satoru becoming king. “Yes, I see Satoru as the son I never had. He’s most capable of carrying this kingdom to glory.”
Satoru smiles for the first time during dinner, “I’m sure I’ll do that with the help of your daughter, your majesty. Every king needs his queen.”
You want to scoff.
“Of course. And then, hopefully, we’ll see Princess Y/N withchild very soon.” His father spoke. It made you sick how they spoke about you as if you weren’t there.
Suddenly, you felt something wet on your lap. As you look down, you notice the burgundy red wine staining your blush pink gown.
Gojo’s mother gasped, “Oh no, your gown..” You wonder if she was even worried about you embarrassing yourself or rather the fact her family spent a pretty dime on was ruined by your carelessness.
You take a deep breath in, already frustrated from the lack of communication regarding your own marriage and your father’s lack of awareness. “Pardon my absence for one moment..”
The party watches as you stand up and leave abruptly. Satoru notices as your father mumbles something about you being dramatic and unladylike. “I shall go check on her.” Satoru suggests.
“Satoru, you shouldn’t-” “I’m only to check on her welfare. She seemed conflicted tonight.”
The Gojo parents turn to look at the king who is now slumped over in his seat, “Very well.”
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You seek comfort under the stars on a balcony, the atmosphere downstairs was too suffocating. It seemed you were a pawn in this big crown game.
“My lady.”
You gasp as you turn around to see the very man you grew to despise in a short amount of time. “Must you cut up my peace..?”
Satoru walked towards you slowly, “It’s a shame the dress is stained…This is the one I wanted you to specifically wear.”
His attempts at flirting made you sick. “I would thank you for the dress. But seeing its already ruined, I don’t think my appreciation would go far.”
Satoru nodded, “It is alright. Did you like your dresses? Were they a good fit? If not, I can get my men to-”
You hold up a hand, “Leave the other two. They are sufficient for gardening.”
He breathed out a chuckle, “Your highness, did I do something to offend you? If so, I do apologise. My father raised me to be a gentleman.”
Nothing leaves your lips as he responds. No smart remark, No rolling of your eyes, nothing. He was nicer than he seemed during dinner. However, you didn’t know what to trust. But something inside you told you to build some sort of relationship with him, considering you two will rule a nation together.
You scoffed as you remain your gaze on the environment, “Gentlemen? You…You hardly know me, why do you wish to be wed?”
“You are really magnificent, Y/N.” He whispers. The absence of formalities and honourifics threw you off immensely. He was now very close to you. It was only now you noticed how tall he was. “If I was just a commoner, I’d still want you as my bride.”
You blink up at him, “Satoru, if I am to be your bride, you can leave the theatrics at home. I’m not a child, I will not fall for such…dishonesty!”
“Dishonesty?” He chuckles once more, stroking the side of his face with his gloved hand, “Have you been like this with other suitors or just me?”
You look away. You’ve never had other suitors. Only him.
“Pardon me, Satoru, but I must go to my chambers. The sun is resting, and I shall rest with it. You don’t want to stop the future queen from receiving her sleep.” You begin to walk away from him.
“Trust me your highness, once wed, I plan to.” He mumbled.
Satoru sees you turn around swiftly staring at him with confusion. If it weren’t for his good looks, you would’ve sent the guards to behead him as quickly as possible. You open your mouth to say something but nothing comes out. Instead, you walk away.
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formula1fanfiction · 2 days
Text
Charles Leclerc/Carlos Sainz
Title: Is this right?
Pairing: Charles Leclerc/Carlos Sainz
 Characters: Charles Leclerc, Carlos Sainz  
Prompt: Carlos has his first rut, since mating Charles.
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Charles throws all his stuff into his room and makes his way to Carlos' room, just like he does every race weekend, it's surprising that Ferrari still bother to pay for two rooms, especially since now they are mated, thanks to the accidental mating bite during Charles' last heat, but it's been the best things that's happened to them.
"You need to leave, sorry Charles." Carlos' pokes his head round the door, his usual perfect hair all over the place. "Why?" It comes out a lot more bratty than he intended, but it's almost been two weeks since he's seen his mate and the omega inside of him is crying out for it.
"Rut, I can't control myself around you." This is news to Charles, his rut isn't scheduled until the summer break. "I'm your mate Carlos, that's why we were together for heats and ruts or whatever." Charles pushes past Carlos and goes into the room.
"But, I can't control myself Charles..." Carlos' rut scent is so strong in the room, that Charles can feel himself slicking up, soaking his underwear. "I will help you Carlos."
That must be all Carlos needs to hear because the next thing Charles' knows is, Carlos rugby tackling him and flipping him onto his stomach on the bed. Charles squeals in delight, hard cock rubbing against the bed sheets.  
"Going to fuck you so hard." Carlos growls, ripping off Charles' sweat pants. "So wet for me, such a good little omega." Carlos pushes his face into the wet patch on Charles' boxers and eagerly licks up the slick, leaking out of him.  
"My perfect omega." Carlos' pushes down Charles' boxers shorts and pushes his tongue into the river of slick leaking from Charles' hole. It feels amazing, Charles digs his fingers into the sheets and thrusts up his ass, wanting even more.
"I can't wait anymore, are you sure about this?" Charles whines in protest as Carlos pulls away from him. "Please Carlos." The Spaniard is back instantly, pushing a pillow under Charles' body, raising his ass to the perfect angle.
"Fuck Charles, such a pretty omega, i'm going to fuck you full of my pups." Carlos takes his own dick into his hand, it's huge, Charles can't wait to feel it filling him up, fucking him, breeding him. "Please Carlos."
Carlos seems to have lost all his senses now, he gives a growl as he lines himself up against Charles' dripping hole and sinks inside. It feels like heaven, he can't help but let a long moan at finally getting what he wants, to be filled up by his alpha.
"Mine, mine ,mine." Carlos growls starting to move instantly, filling Charles with brutally hard thrusts, using his hands to spread Charles' cheeks apart, watching as his cock disappears inside of him.
Charles squeals in delight as Carlos takes his arms and pins them behind his back, his lips pressing against his ear. "Who do you belong to? " Charles moans arching his back. "Yours, all yours alpha."
"Yes Carlos." Charles see stars as Carlos hits his prostate dead on, his cock lays leaking and abandoned below him, he's too high up to rut against the bed sheets and with his arms behind his back, he has no choice but to take what Carlos gives him like a good little omega.
"Please Carlos." Charles moans, pushing his hips back trying to get Carlos to hit his prostate again. "You take what I give you, omega." Carlos growls into his ear, it sends shivers down his spine.
Carlos does start hitting his prostate with every thrust, slamming into it so hard, Charles can barely keep up, wave after wave of pleasure fills him up. "Do you want my knot, pretty little omega?"
"Hmmm." Charles can barely focus, his orgasm is almost here, with one last slam onto his prostate he comes harder than he ever has in his life, spilling his load over the sheets below him.
"I said, do you want my knot, omega?" Carlos thrusts into Charles with all his might now, his knot getting bigger and bigger with every thrust. "Please, give me your knot, want to feel it inside me, filling me to the brim."
"Going to knot you baby, fill you up with my come and put my pups inside of you, bet you would love that?" Charles moans. "Please alpha, give me all your pups." That must have set off the primal part of Carlos' brain off, he growls and sinks his teeth into the mating bite on Charles' neck, opening up the old wound.
"Fuck, Carlos." Carlos grunts in response, licking up the blood on Charles' neck in a silent apology as his knot swells to full hardness and catches on Charles' rim, keeping them stuck together.
"I'm sorry Charles, are you okay?" Carlos comes back to his senses, at least for a little while until the next waves starts. He gently moves Charles onto his side and pulls them into a spooning position. "I'm fine Carlos, nothing to be sorry for at all."
"I know I helped you with your heat, we just didn't discuss this."  Charles shrugs. "I just assumed this what we do, you help me and I help you, we are mates after all."
Carlos' knot finally pops and fills up Charles with his hot, alpha cum. "As much as it pains me to say it because i'd love to put a pup in you but are you still on birth control?" Charles nods. "No pups until my racing career is over."
"I want to knock you up so bad, put so many pups in you, lock you away and pregnant, keep you just for me. Would you like that Charles?
It seems round two has started much faster than Charles thought.  
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lottiecrabie · 15 hours
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itll be you and me and this idea forever babe.. we might be alone but we Understand🤞
what if it wasn’t just us… 😌🙂‍↕️ and it entered the world through the miraculous art form that is writing by tumblr dot com user lottiecrabie 😌🙂‍↕️😏 (even just a crumblet)
for you my psychic linked sister. a little Crumb🫶
the saxophones and trumpets ring through the ballroom. the repetitive steps and roaring laughs mix through, skisloping off the kicks and twists of the t-strap shoes. the champagne flows out into a series of coupes and you grab one, spilling it on the side. you down a mouthful with a grin, still light and happy from the spinning dance you just twirled out of. 
sweat sticks your headache band to your forehead. you fix up the feather. you fish a cigarette out of the emerald elephant dispenser, placing it between your ruby red lips. your eyes scan for a lighter next. 
‘enjoying yourself?’ your ears perk up at the sound of his husky voice. you smirk, turning around to find detective healy. 
with his modest trench coat and permanently gloomy predilection, he sticks out like a sore thumb amidst the decadent decor. it’s always a little funny to see him around such open fun, like he’s meant to exist in dark, cold alleys, frowning over a body. still, he looks handsome, dark and broody, with his sober eyes and his wild flowing hair. 
you pull the cigarette from your lips with a smile. you shrug, crooning, ‘why, it’s a lovely night.’ healy searches the inside of his trench coat. ‘what about you? not too joyful for mr. grumps?’ 
he shakes his head, though a grin still teases his lips. he draws a lighter out. you lean closer to him, hanging the cigarette off your lips again. he flicks once, lighting up the tip. you exhale out the smoke, but stay near him. he smells like cedar and whiskey, like nights toasting after murders successfully solved.
healy gives you a look, shoving his lighter back in his trench coat. ‘what are you doing here, trouble?’ 
‘can’t a woman enjoy a soirée? my, if i was like you, i’d be locked up in my house all year round.’
‘you’d be safer for it.’
you smile, mischievous. ‘and your life much, much less fun.’ healy gives you a onceover, trailing on your uncovered legs. you take a sip of your champagne, drawing attention to your lips next. you give him a faux-innocent look, singsonging, ‘you know, mister briggs is an excellent charleston dancer.’ 
healy groans, rubbing his eyebrows. ‘tell me you didn’t dance with a murder suspect.’
you up your nose. ‘well, if you don’t want to know, then i guess i won’t share what he said.’ you whip around, taking two steps before a strong hand wraps around your arm. 
you don’t even bother hiding your smirk before turning around. healy gives you a somber look, demanding, ‘spill.’ the tone of his voice sizzles down your spine. 
‘is this a shakedown?’ his jaw ticks. a crystalline voice spills from your lips. ‘you’re cute when you’re annoyed.’
‘then i must be ravishing every time i’m in your company.’
your eyes spark. ‘oh, yes, you are, detective.’ healy swallows thickly, dropping his hand from your hand as if burned. you cock your head, tension still fizzling. ‘promise me a dance and i’ll tell you.’
‘a dance?’
‘oh, you do know a foxtrot, don’t you, detective healy?’
his stare burns. ‘fine.’ 
you hum, turning to look at the roaring party. ‘mister briggs has a lovely summer home in brighton. he loves to entertain his most favorite guests there. why, he just invited me,’ you catch briggs chatting up a young lady, brushing the pearl on her ear. you sigh regrettably, ‘but i’m afraid the cold sea air doesn’t agree with my predilection.’
‘brighton. where francesca would visit every month.’
‘oh yes,’ you throw him a look. your shoulders up excitedly. ‘francesca and mister briggs were having an affair. how scandalous.’ 
he grins and, oh, this might be your favorite look of his. rare but dazzling, shining over his face. he says, ‘that’s motive.’
you tsk. ‘and you didn’t even want me to dance.’ he opens his mouth to protest, but you’re too quick. your throw your coupe on the table, discarding your smoke on the elephant head. you grab his hand, cutting him off, tugging him to the dancefloor. ‘come on, you owe me one.’
‘there’s a murder suspect at large.’
‘oh, please,’ you halt in the middle of the floor; your hand on his shoulder, his finding home on your waist— no matter his protests. the touch is electric, burning through your dress. you feel wired. ‘he’s not going anywhere. this is the soirée of month, after all.’ 
matty sighs resignedly. languid jazz plays. he takes a first step, gliding across the floor. his moves are certain and precise. you follow his rhythm, pushing and pulling at his guidance. detective healy is a good dancer. what an interesting new morsel of information.
in the crook of your ear, healy whispers, ‘one day, all this frolicking with trouble will really get you in deep waters, darling.’
you lean back enough to meet his eyes. ‘then it’s lucky you’ll be there to save me, isn’t it, detective?’
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lulublack90 · 13 hours
Text
Prompt 30 - Sky
@jegulus-microfic April 30, Word count 643
Previous part First part
Last one guys. I hope you like it xxx
Promptly, at 8pm, Regulus walked out of the Slytherin Common room and was immediately covered by the invisibility cloak. He surprised himself when he didn’t flinch. Normally, an unknown thing like that would have had him raising his wand and firing off a slew of curses, but as soon as that cover came down, James’s scent engulfed him and he felt calm. That was until James grabbed his hand and began leading him out of the castle's door. 
His heart pounded, holding hands was a very new thing to him, and now he understood why so many simpering fools did it around the castle. It felt wonderful, having that contact with someone you cared about. 
James veered right and headed straight for the black lake. Regulus prayed he wasn’t about to suggest a midnight swim as one, the water would be freezing, and two swimming was not his thing. But James took him along the side of the huge lake, away from the lights and eyes of the castle. 
The loose stones and swaying grass were lit silver by the almost full moon as James led Regulus down to a little hidden beach. James walked them onto the sand and removed the cloak. There, laid out perfectly, was a tartan picnic blanket, bottles of butterbeer and a selection of sandwiches and other finger foods and, to Regulus’s utter excitement, a verifiable mound of profiteroles. 
James tugged him onto the blanket and helped him sit. James settled himself next to Regulus, offering him a butterbeer. Regulus noticed that the blanket had a warming charm on it, as while the spring night wasn’t bitter there was still a nip in the air. He took the drink and had a sip. The sweet drink warmed him further.
They made their way through the food. Regulus was glad that he’d been too excited to eat much at dinner as he eyed up that tower of profiteroles. 
Once they were both fit to bursting with the delicious food, James pulled out a rather cosy looking blanket and a couple of cushions. He tossed them behind Regulus and vanished the remainders of their meal. With careful, gentle hands, he slowly tipped Regulus back onto one of the cushions before following him onto the other and throwing the warm blanket over them both. 
Regulus’s heart was fluttering, he was sure James must be able to hear the thrum in the quiet night. He tensed as James snuggled closer to him, but relaxed when all James did was wrap an arm around him and bring him closer. James sighed as they stared up at the star-lit sky, tracing the constellations with their eyes. 
Regulus couldn’t believe how comfortable he felt like this with James and so quickly. He shifted his gaze to look at the golden-skinned boy holding him so gently. What was it about him that had himself and his brother so enthralled? James, feeling the movement, turned away from the stars also and stared deeply into Regulus’s eyes. 
Regulus’s heart soared when the image of the cottage filled his thoughts right before James’s lips met his. It was sweet and caring, melting Regulus’s icy soul with each gentle caress. He could have kissed James like this until morning and then some. But eventually they parted and stared at the night sky once more, Regulus’s head now resting on James’s chest. He chuckled to himself as he thought about how all this had started because James had blocked his path to the snitch. 
They stayed there curled up together until the sun's rays began peeking over the horizon, splashing the sky with pink and gold. James took Regulus into his arms as they stood and watched the colours play across the clouds before heading back up to the castle, unseen fingers twining together and sweet smiles playing across their faces.   
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q-gorgeous · 2 days
Text
phantom phantom older phantom danny phantom
fanfiction
ao3
word count: 1165
Maddie is unexpectedly sent to an ashen future. She doesn't even get the chance to meet the mysterious man who sent her to this apocalyptic world - she's only given a single command, ringing over and over in her head: "Find Danny. Save him." @ecto-mochi
ehbvegsudicwkjbd
Save Danny.
Find him. Save him.
Maddie groggily woke up. The command was ringing in her head over and over. What was wrong with Danny? Why did she have to save him?
She opened her eyes and was met with an ashen apocalyptic world. Where was she? 
She looked up above her just to see what looked like flying cars. A futuristic city. A dome appeared to surround the entire city and Maddie couldn’t help but think it must be a ghost shield. Why did they need a ghost shield around the entire city?
A wailing sound tore its way through the air and Maddie covered her ears. What was that sound? Where was it coming from? 
One of the towers powering the dome exploded and the shield dissipated. Dread filled her being. 
Find Danny. That was what she was here to do. That was what she would worry about. 
Where did she start though? Was she looking for her fourteen year old son or a version of him from the future? 
She just had to start looking. Someone had sent her here. They wouldn’t send her on some impossible mission. She’d know it when she saw it. 
She searched up and down the streets as she walked by. In all the ruined and destroyed buildings. There was not a sign of life anywhere out here. Not a single person roamed in this area. It was just her.
She stopped as that wailing sound started back up again. It sounded even closer this time. 
“No!” 
It couldn’t be. That voice. Was he still haunting Amity Park after all this time?
Maddie turned around the corner of the crumbled building she was standing beside. There he was. Phantom. And… Phantom? 
Standing down the street were two Phantom’s. The one she recognized that must’ve been from her own time. And then there was the older looking ghost. He looked like an aged version of the teenage ghost she hunted down every day. Was Phantom the Danny she was supposed to save? He was technically a Danny after all. 
The older Phantom picked up some kind of medallion and phased it into Phantom’s chest and he screamed. He jumped into the air pulling Phantom behind him. 
Whether or not Phantom was the Danny she was supposed to save, he would probably know where her son was so she could find him. 
She was coming up to a ruined version of the Nasty Burger by the time she caught up with them. It had what looked like a memorial of… her and her family. Danny’s friends. And his teacher? 
What happened here? 
She crept up quietly and stood behind some rubble and listened as the two ghosts talked to each other. 
“It doesn’t matter if I go back in time or not! I’ll never turn into you! Never!” 
“Of course you will.” 
She watched with wide eyes as a ring appeared around the older Phantom’s waist. It split and moved over his body and when it disappeared left standing in his place was what looked like her son. 
“It’s only a matter of time.” 
Everything clicked into place and she finally understood. He looked like Phantom. He could turn into Danny. He was Phantom from the Future. Phantom was Danny.  
This was the Danny she was supposed to be saving. 
Then he was throwing Phantom- Danny- into the portal. 
“I need you out of my way and out of my hair while I make sure nothing happens to change my past.” 
“Danny..?” Maddie stepped forward and reached a hand out towards her son. He turned to look at her with a haunted expression, the portal swirling beside him. 
“Ma- Mom?” He called. He seemed confused. 
She took another step towards him and he took a step back, the portal closing beside him. 
“What happened to you?” She whispered. 
“How did you get here?” He asked with wide eyes. “You didn’t come here with them.”
She shook her head. “Someone sent me here. All they told me was to save Danny. I thought they meant my son. But now I realize they meant you.”
He barked out a laugh. “Save me? There is no saving me. There’s nothing you can do. I’m not even your son. I’m an amalgamation.”
“What do you mean?” She pulled her hand back from where it was still outstretched and kept it close to her body. 
“That fruit loop tried pulling out Danny’s human emotions but only succeeded in pulling out his ghost half. Then I ripped out his. We morphed together and that is who I am now.” 
Her eyes widened. “Vlad? He’s-”
“Half ghost?” He smirked. “You and the fat oaf really are as dense as a brick. You couldn’t even find two ghosts that were always right under your nose.” 
“I’m positive you’re the one I was sent here to save though.” Maddie clenched her fists at her sides. “No matter how much I… Detested Phantom, he always got us out of dangerous and impossible situations. Danny always came home. You are the one in need of help.”
His laughter split across the destroyed parking lot. Danny’s blue eyes turned back to red. “Help? Help? I needed help ten years ago. Help with school. Help with ghosts. Help with the goddamn suicidal ideation I had after I watched my entire family get blown up in this very lot!” 
Maddie flinched as his voice raised in volume. 
“But instead I had the ghost ripped out of my human half and ended up killing him!” 
Maddie covered her mouth with her hands. He killed…?
He laughed again, this time a sad, crazed laugh. He looked away from her. “All our ideation paid off though. But it didn’t help me. Not when I was still stuck with every one of both of their bad traits and memories. All of their fears.” 
“What are you afraid of?” She whispered. He looked back up at her.
“Being alone.” 
She shook her head. “You don’t have to be alone anymore. We can fix this.”
He raced towards her and instead of her son, he was suddenly the older Phantom. He held her up by her throat. 
“There’s nothing you can do.” He snarled. “My fate is sealed. And I intend to make sure it happens.” 
She took in a raspy breath. “Come… Home. Don’t punish- yourself any longer. Come- come home.”
His eyes widened at that and he let go of her like she burnt him. He took a couple steps back. She coughed as he looked at her.
“You- you think I’m punishing myself?”
She pushed herself up off the ground. “You’ve destroyed everything. You’ve demolished an entire city. You’ve probably killed many people. People can’t leave you all alone if you get rid of them first.” 
“I-” He stopped and looked up at her again.
“Come home.” She whispered. 
They stared at each other as she waited for his response. He opened his mouth to reply-
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thedeadthree · 1 year
Text
— OCS AS A LOVE LANGUAGE.
TAGGED BY: @kingsroad, @chuckhansen, @echo3-1 and @marivenah to take this cutest uquiz for the loves! ty ty <3
TAGGING: @feystepped, @griffin-wood, @risingsh0t, @queennymeria, @denerims, @jendoe, @phillipsgraves, @unholymilf, @morvaris, @aartyom, @jacobseed, @florbelles, @adelaidedrubman, @leviiackrman, @jackiesarch, @loriane-elmuerto, @shellibisshe, @veisshaupt, @aceghosts, @blissfulalchemist, @shadowglens, @malefiicarum, @leondaltons, @pearlcscent, @arklay, @roofgeese and you!
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A KNIFE CALLED GRIEF.
You have left your house, you have left those people behind, but what are you going to do about the memories which have taken root in you? You can run but not without them. You want someone to sit with you on this cool marble floor while the sun burns everything.You want them to cut your rotten heart and theirs too. You want to sit with it in front of you, let them see you with all your flaws, which haven’t been your fault but you have been made to believe so, and you want them to love you anyways. Because you know you’d do that for them.
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AN UNDOING INFLUENCE.
Can someone tell you what to do? You have been carrying so much love within you for so long it is starting to turn into anger (why does it matter, all you see is red anyways) and you have been dragging this body through each day and every night you are split open on your bed and it is so so so lonely. If someone were to walk in while you were on your bed that way and they stitched you back in a new way, lining the seams with their love and kisses, you’d probably find this dreary world a little more bearable. You want someone to turn you over and over until you look in the mirror and see yourself looking back at yourself with a gentleness which has been lacking in you since forever.
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VIOLENT DEVOTION.
Everyone seems to think you are faithless, but the thing is you haven’t yet found someone who will bring you to your knees and make you raise your head in reverence. This world has stopped bringing you joy, you want more of the divine. You want to dedicate your entire existence to someone; you want to make them realise they are not something terrible, make them see just how much beauty they are bringing to this world. You want to be the only one for them, the only one they have chosen to love. There’s a god shaped pit inside of you and only they can fit in it. And what if they choose to walk away? Didn’t I say this was violent devotion?
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A STORY THAT ENDS IN BLOOD.
The world has always been unkind, and when you have turned to yourself for comfort you have come face to face with an empty pit which seems to be laughing. You don’t care if it kills you but once you find someone whom you love and who loves you back, you will make sure nothing happens to them. They are yours. You will make a tear in this world and create a new place for you and your love if it comes to that. Because it has always been about love, and it is how it always ends.
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CONSUMPTION OF A HEART UNLOVED.
Here’s a dining table, here’s a set of plates. Here’s your heart, red and bursting with love. You have tried to love people all your life, but no one seems to understand you. Your own mother perhaps forgot to teach you how to protect yourself, maybe people whom you trusted chose to look the other way when all you wanted was a hand full of love. All you want is someone to take from you, all you want is someone to dig in your heart and eat it and kiss you afterwards - bloody and red. You want them to tell you that you are what they have been looking for, you want to be the one who ends their hunger.
#only if you want to! 🤍🕊#oc: una nathaira uller#oc: iovanna dayne#oc: maekar targaryen#oc: illyria ilmestys#oc: yoren snow#if anyone needs me i will be losing my mind teehehe thanks! <3 THEY GOT EVERY ANSWER I EXPECTED THEM TO GET JASNXJNS#dont look at me about una's answer don't look at me about unas answer IM SO NORMAL ABOUT UNAS ANSWER IM FINE TOTALLY REALLY!#'you can run but not without them' teehehe when she + aeggy tried to run off to who knows where to avoid his coronation bc he asked her to!#and that was within like....... a week ish or less of knowing each other skjnakj twin flame lover thing etc etc#AND THENN 'you want them to cut out your rotten heart and theirs too' SCREAMING CRYING THROWING THINGS THROWING UP ETCC#OHMYGODMYGODOHMYGODD#(mo if im shrieking in ur dms later bc of this you know why sdjffbv)#carolinee CAROLINEE i must know aeryals answer bc WAHH at his answer? you go aery!!!!! lucky duck etc!!!!!#'There’s a god shaped pit inside of you and only they can fit in it' UHHHHHH im fine this is fine#'you haven’t yet found someone who will bring you to your knees and make you raise your head in reverence' LOSING ITT#VANNNAAAA an undoing influence i mean are you kidding? HAD TO CALL HER OUT LIKE THAT IN FRONT OF THE SEVEN AND EVERYONE HUH#blah blah their love is their undoing etc etc <3#ILLLLYYYYY 'this story will end in blood' her as the descendant of the bloodstone emperor the battle of the gods eye HER MAGIC RED EYEE#reflecting the same shade as the dragon she has bonded to I MEANN 'you will find someone who loves u and loves u back' nothing will ->#to them? 'You will make a tear in this world and create a new place for you and your love if it comes to that' and how that fits ->#with her and a*emond......? HOLD ON WHILE I LOSEE IT im normal about illys answer im normal about them MY BABIESS#and like oh my god by how yoren is so in need of knowing he's more than a name his own need to love and be loved but its behind a wall?#a wall of pride and something he has had to build because he's so expectant to be hurt again..? IM FINEE#leg.tagged#leg.ocs#TY TYY this was the cutest to do! called out the babies in front of god and everyone! love that for them <3
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greeneyed-thestral · 1 year
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waitingonher · 4 months
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because i love you — [hoo boys headcanons]
summary: your "thing" with the hoo boys!
author's note: in honor of the pjo series coming out today,,have this rlly rlly short draft from earlier this year! xoxo
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percy jackson — doodling on him
“give me your hand.”
“yes ma’am.”
minutes pass as you doodle gods know what onto percy’s hand. you always resort to this whenever the camp head counselor's meeting begins late—which seems to be every meeting—and giving percy "tattoos" certainly kills time. last meeting, you drew a can of beans and the time before that, was a bouquet of tulips. so honestly his guess being a pair of socks this time isn’t too far of a reach.
“okay, done,” you release his hand, a proud smile gracing your features, “cute right?”
he quirks a brow upon seeing the drawing, “is that…” percy turns his head to the side, gaining better perspective, “is that a flying fish?” 
“wow, you’re good,” you say, giving him a nod of approval, “although, last time you did say that my can of beans looked like a roll of toilet paper…” 
your boyfriend throws his hands in the air, “in my defense, you used a shitty pen so it was hard to tell.” 
“whatever.” 
jason grace — sewing your initials on his clothes
“hi love,” jason says, plopping down beside you on the couch. you give him a bright smile as he places a gentle kiss on your head, “almost done?” 
nodding proudly, you hold up his pair of jeans to show him your work: your initials sewn onto a corner of his back pocket, “yup, just finished actually! what do you think of the color? i think you bought the thread for me on our second date. but i totally forgot i had it until i went digging in my supply box.” 
a grin plasters itself on jason’s face as he nods his head in realization, “i knew the color seemed familiar. i remember wondering why a tiny spool of thread was so expensive. but it’s perfect, i love it,” he kisses your cheek, “all my friends are gonna be so jealous that they don’t have their girlfriends’ initials sewn onto their clothes.” 
you laugh as you imagine jason vehemently bragging about his jeans to all his friends, “tell them i’m charging $50 if they want me to do theirs,” you wink. 
“we’d make more than the stolls’ and their smuggling business if we did that,” he laughs, admiring your work once more. who knew that having your initials on his pants would have such an affect on him, “also, can you do my sweaters and my other jeans?"
you raise a brow, "i might have to start charging you at this point."
leo valdez — impromptu fashion shows
“wow!” you clap enthusiastically, “your outfit even puts paris fashion week outfits to shame!” yes, because a rainbow checkered crop top with a humongous green tutu and a pink boa paired with insanely skinny stilettos beats any and all high fashion runway outfits, “now, leo valdez, can you give us a few words about your new clothing line? and possibly a bit about what it’s like to be so amazingly talented?” you inquire, raising an invisible microphone to his mouth. 
leo oh-so humbly bows and rises with a proud grin, “thank you, thank you, but i honestly must give all credit towards my beautiful muse, y/n, she’s the inspiration behind my new line. and about being so talented, it really is such hard work to be this naturally gifted.”
“ooh, do tell about this ‘y/n.’ i’ve never heard of her but she does sound absolutely gorgeous!” you exclaim, keeping up with the act. 
your boyfriend nods firmly, “oh yes, she’s very, very, very beautiful,” adding a playful wink, “but i must say, she has the worst morning breath i’ve ever encountered!” 
your smile drops and you squint your eyes, “i’m going to choke you with that stupid ugly boa if you don’t take that back right now.” 
“uh ma’am,” leo backs up nervously, clutching his boa, “i’m going to have to call security if you threaten me again.” 
"i'm seriously going to kill you."
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3K notes · View notes
yanderenightmare · 5 months
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Mahito x darling
TW: NSFW, noncon, psychological torture, Mahito in and of himself
fem reader
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Mahito is so scary because you're the only one who sees him. 
You can't tell your friends, you can't call the cops, you can't even discuss it with your therapist for fear of being committed. 
You're all alone with him – half the time convinced you’re going insane.
He doesn't even need to kidnap you. Why would he? He likes your cozy apartment. To see you in your natural habitat with all your personal trinkets. Your books, your decorations, the contents of your fridge, your makeup, your clothes, not to mention the soft warmth of your bed…
Sure, his sewer has its charm, but you probably wouldn’t like it there very much. Not that it would stop him, but he’s sure you’d be boring if all you did was stay cooped up there all day. 
This is much more interesting. To be there when you come home from work, having trifled through all your belongings, dragged everything out – made a mess like a new puppy would. To watch you try to cling to your sanity, going about life, trying to live it normally even when he’s right there on your sofa wanting to dish about how much you loath your pissy boss or that loud neighbor and what fun it might be to kill them.
You brush him off as intrusive thoughts – a manifestation within your mind. That’s the only explanation that allows you to keep your wits with you.
But it’s become hard to bring anyone home. Even though others can't see him, he’ll walk about your friends and the odd date and comment on all the things they do, ridiculing them when they say something cheesy, feigning puking before giving it away with a snicker, then asking you why you bother hanging out with them at all. And you wonder if that’s what you really think… why else would a figment of your imagination say something like that?
No. You decide. He doesn’t represent your thoughts. He’s just… a roommate who knows no boundaries. 
Funny enough, you don’t really recognize that he’s any dangerous before you’re getting dressed after a shower, opening a drawer on your dresser you rarely look in – only to find it overfilled with dozens of tiny shrunken heads.
You scurry back on the floor with your hand clasped over your mouth until your back meets your bed – skin crawling. There’s no air left in your lungs from the shock to produce any such thing as a scream – so instead, you start heaving – then crying.
“Oh – I was wondering when you’d find them!” A cheer is heard from your bedroom threshold.
Your eyes pan to look at him – or it. Mahito, with a big grin on his face – clapping as though impressed by your performance.
“Wh-what – what is this?” You splutter, trying not to throw up – casting shifty glances over at the lump that had fallen to the floor – its face twisted with agony, unrecognizable, but you think you still knew… “What have you done?”
It doesn’t smell of rot, but something else – like unwashed clothing – sweat and piss and shit – you don’t understand how you hadn’t smelled it before. You don’t understand how you hadn’t heard it before – the moaning, though only in hoarse weak voices, still there, in a chorus, crying in pain.
“I’ve been studying them.” He says – casually, padding across the floor before bending down to pick the one up.
He looked at it with disappointment, throwing it up and catching it like one would a baseball – then clicked his tongue. 
“But I must say you’ve got boring taste… I don’t feel like I learned much of use from any of them at all.” 
He drops it to the floor in a fleshy splat, and you cringed anew – wanting to crawl away, wanting to get out, to call the police – maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to be committed – maybe there was something genuinely wrong with you…
Mahito doesn't share your concerns, though. He’s got his mind on other things. 
“I think I’ll learn better through practice.”
You don’t realize what he’s talking about before you’re being lifted up on the bed and then pushed down against it.
His lean but muscular frame has you dwarfed as he crawls after you – caging you between his arms and legs.
“I wouldn’t mind the floor, but I’m sure you’d prefer the bed. That’s how you humans usually like it, right?” He smiles – as though he’s doing you a favor. 
He’s taken off his usual tunic – showcasing a pale grey chest patchworked together in crude stitches – and you don’t really understand why you’d ever conjure something that looked like it. So human, yet still… so not. 
“I didn’t know what size you’d want – they were all so different – but I think bigger is better, isn’t it?”
It doesn’t register before you feel the weight of it on your stomach. 
Fat and warm, ridged with veins and hard against you. 
Looking down, feeling the situation settle on your skin like the raw cold – you realize, though you don’t understand it – Mahito isn’t just some imaginary friend. 
Whatever he is – he’s no such thing as a friend at all.
Your chest flares. “Mahito, no – ”
Your hands fly to try and push him off, but they’re easily caught. His fingers stretch inhumanly like playdough, using only one hand to reign in both wrists, pinning them to the pillow above you.
“No? Still too small?” He asks, as though your uproar had been a cry for more – his voice in a playful lilt. “I can make it bigger if you like~”
You squirm when the thing between your thighs grows an inch – swelling up into something fatter than your wrist – weighty and twitching atop you. 
It alone churns your guts, but the sight of his face gleaming so innocently makes it all so much worse. 
You whimper as he drags a rude finger through your folds – bluntly poking at your hole.
“You’re supposed to be wet, no?” He posed, keen eyes watching your face grimace in discomfort – drilling his digit inside you despite it. 
When knuckle-deep, he curled it, nail scraping into the gummy of your tender walls – making your whole body twist with an ache, shaking your head while sinking your teeth into your lip.
“Stop-” You croaked pitifully, still trying to wring your wrists free – but the hand keeping them jailed had hardened into something that was no longer skin.
He just yawned at your struggle. “So noisy...” Bored while looking down at you and the ugly way your lips curled at his crude fingering – but then his eyes widened. “Wait – oh! I get it now! So, this is what kissing is for…”
He didn’t give you much time to turn away before his mouth locked on yours – more in an attempt to swallow than to kiss, feeding you his tongue – which felt so much longer than it should be – winding through you until it licked your gag-reflex and made you choke.
You tensed in response, clenching the finger prodding you – and he took it as an invitation to squeeze another in – making you squeal out a sob in his mouth. 
But though it was a cruel ministration, it was enough to tickle the instinct – dragging wet out from within you, bathing the digits that now slid with greater ease in and out.
“See~ I told you I’d learn better through practice...” He mumbled against your lips – having felt the change – also noticing the quiet that befell you… looking so cute beneath him. 
He chuckled – the taste of your kiss still warm and wet on his lips.
“That really did shut you up, hm~ you humans are so funny.”
That thing resting heavily on your belly does a little jump, and you flinch with it. Left panting after being throat-fucked by a tongue – you’re really only able to shake your head as he slips the beastly thing down between your thighs – its fat head licking your clit on its way until kissing your entrance.
Two fingers haven't done you any justice – nothing could – to prep you for something of that size.
“I think this is correct…” He muses, nudging himself against the slim coin-sized hole – looking a little confused while he did so – though not exactly unsure of himself… more as though it was the whole procedure in and of itself that was at fault and not him. He was just following instructions, after all.
Sucking his teeth at the tautness, he continued to press the tip through you. 
A whine was ripped from your chest as it arched off the bed – thighs quaking on each side of his hips, kept spread despite wanting to force themselves shut.
“It’s better if you relax.” He offered then, though without much sympathy. Sounding almost jaded – as though you were keeping him waiting. 
But then a thumb pressed down on your clit, forcing another jolt to rush through you. 
“Women like to be touched here, right?” He rubbed crass circles into it – worse than amateurishly – rough patterns that bore no real intention of making you feel good. 
Then his mouth slid from your mouth, down your neck – only to sink teeth in your tit.
“And here~” He giggled while nomming your nipple, rolling the little nib between his teeth before flicking over it with his tongue again and again, sucking on it harshly.
None of it made you relax like he’d suggested. Either way, he continued to sink his length one thick chub at a time as fast as your hole allowed. And soon enough, he reached your end before your hole could reach his. But that was no issue…
The hand on your clit, cupped your mound instead – and beneath it, where warmth pooled, you felt inner things alter – change, rearrange, allowing the giant member inside you to sink deeper even though you knew there couldn’t possibly be any deeper to go.
“Wow~ look at that…” He awed when his pelvis smushed against your mound – kneading into your clit as he pressed a curious hand down on the bulge he was making in your belly.
Strings of drool stuck from his lips to your chest – and a sick look pooled in his eyes.
Thicker and thicker breaths left him. He swallowed thickly. Barely blinking.
“I think I get it now…” His voice had shed its humorous tone, now sounding soft with something you didn’t want to have the attention of. “It’s like our souls are playing together…” 
His hand stroked your stomach – like he was petting something.
“Feels good.”
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indulgentdaydream · 3 months
Note
BEEN WAITING FOR THIS BESTIE
what about a tired and very touch-starved jason wakes up at like 2pm and fem!reader is out of bed??? and he comes and finds them and throws them over his shoulder and brings them back to bed???? because why would you leave jaybean by himself????? unnacceptable???
THIS IS SO ADORABLE WHAT
And the idea of people waiting for my requests to be open is so weird like… what do you mean you wanna read my writings and hear my thoughts??? Y’all make me smile so much I swear
Side note: I’m so sorry this is a month late. And then also another day late than I said I would post.
Side side note: if y’all saw me post this without the photo header…. No you didn’t
M.I.A
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Jason Todd x gn!Reader || Domestic Fluff || Word Count: 758
Warnings: not completely proofread. Gun mention.
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Jason’s pulled himself out of a bad dream. Not quite a nightmare, though something eerily close.
It was one of those rare nights that he had off of patrol. One he where the two of you got to eat dinner together, watch some TV, get ready for bed, then fall asleep in your shared bed. He enjoyed the chances when he got them.
He laid on his stomach under the comfortably heavy duvet. His left arm was bent beneath his pillow, his hand grazing the hidden .44 he had convinced you to let him keep there, the other arm laying in front of him. He kept his eyes closed, clinging to his last tendrils of sleep.
All he needed was you back in his arms and his dreams would turn good again, filled with the smell of your soap and hints of faded perfume.
Slowly, he stretches his right arm out across the sheets, sleepily searching for your form. It drags along the sheets, his entire body only half-asleep.
He’s aware that there’s this… itch in his skin. Not a physical itch. An itch that can only be satisfied by having your arms around him again.
Jason Todd doesn’t count sheep. He counts your heart beats or your breathing. Sometimes both.
He must be laying further to the edge of his side of the bed than he thought. Usually, he doesn’t have to reach this far to get to you when you two drift apart in your sleep.
His hand grazes the wall. His eyes shoot open.
You aren’t in bed.
He pushes himself up with his elbows. A tired, confused, and slightly panicked frown settled on his face, his hair mussed up and flat on one side of his head.
The bedroom window is closed. The door is cracked open.
Then he notices the sound of the tap running in the kitchen.
Jason gets up and out of bed, moving languidly. He pads his way out of the bedroom and into the hallway.
His eyes squint at the light you had turned on as he stands in the doorway. All foggy panic he felt before faded away at the sight of you, filling a glass with water, standing in one of his shirts.
He shuffles his feet. A purposeful noise that he wouldn’t otherwise make as he went about his day, one to get your attention.
You turn around, your glass of water in your hand. You take notice of your boyfriend’s large stature filling the entryway, a sleepy pout on his lips. You give him a smile. He can tell you're trying not to laugh at his fatigued state.
“Want a glass, too?”
Jason shakes his head. He makes his way across the kitchen, his brows still furrowed against the light.
He just wants you back in bed with him.
He reaches for your glass after you sip from it. You hand it to him. Jason takes the cold glass in his right hand, bends down a little, and wraps his left arm tight around the bottom of your bum. He stands back up, now with you draped over his shoulder.
You squeal out a fit of laughter, "Jay!"
He flicks off the light as he exits the kitchen, makes his way back into the hall, then kicks the door to your bedroom shut as he carries you in.
Gently, he sets you back down on the edge of the bed. Once you're properly seated, he hands your water back for you to finish. Seeing your bright smile makes his own lips tug into a small one.
Jason rakes his hands through his hair as you drink. He rubs his hands over his face, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes from a moment, trying to shake a bit of the sleep still clinging to him.
You hand him back the nearly finished glass of water. He watches you shuffled back under the covers, moving over to the wall-side. Your side. He finishes off the last two gulps of your water and sets the glass on the night stand.
He follows you under the covers, immediately pulling you close. He presses a kiss to your cheek and drops his head into the crook of your neck, an arm draped around your waist, the other tucked under his pillow. He kisses your shoulder and gently squeezes your waist once.
Your arms settle around him, "If you wanted cuddles you could’ve just asked, you know."
Jason only grumbles an incoherent response. He shuffles and presses closer to you, holding you tight.
You kiss his forehead and Jason starts to count.
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Ahh!! I hope you like! This is lowkey rushed.
Also you can catch my personal headcanon of how Jason WILL keep his bed, with or without you in it, as far away from the window and door as possible. And you best believe that when you two share, you're getting the wall side so he can act as a barrier for any possible danger that may come in.
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rileyslibrary · 7 months
Text
With your hands full, you use your elbow to push the doorknob and nudge the door open with your shoulder. You enter Ghost’s office, shutting the door behind you with your foot.
He stands with his back turned to the door, focused on the map spread across his desk. He looks over his shoulder and narrows his eyes as they fall upon the box in your hands. Although he doesn’t say it, the message is clear—he’s waiting for an explanation. You don’t blame him; anyone in his shoes would do the same.
“I need your help,” you announce.
“Absolutely not,” he replies, returning to the map.
“I’m serious.”
“Me too,” he murmurs, scribbling something on the paper. “Out. Now.”
“Seriously, man?” you protest, stomping your foot once on the floor.
He stops mid-writing, lets the pencil fall, and slowly turns halfway towards you. It must be the casual “man” you threw at him; otherwise, nothing would explain how he looks at you now, with one of his eyebrows so high up that it’s threatening to escape his forehead and shoot out of his balaclava.
“Please,” you whisper. “Just this one time.”
He lets out a sigh and rolls his eyes. “What do you want?” He asks.
“I need to hide this,” you explain and slightly lift the box in your hands.
He throws a brief glance at the box, then back at you. “Elaborate,” he orders. “What is it?”
“Cake,” you reveal.
“Cake,” he repeats and gestures with his hands to speak further.
“For Price,” you explain. “It’s his birthday.”
“I know,” he says, shrugging. “Why hide it?”
“It’s a surprise,” you reply. “He doesn’t know.”
He clicks his tongue and turns his attention back to the map. “I think the captain is well aware that today is his birthday,” he murmurs.
“Will you please stop with the jokes?” you plead, throwing a quick glance at the door. “He saw me carrying it, and I think he’s suspicious.”
“Nonsense!” he chuckles while continuing to write on the map. “There is nothing suspicious about someone wandering around a military base holding a....” He turns back and looks at your hands. “Pink and white striped box with gold lettering embossed at the top; what the hell.”
“What can I say?” you snap. “Lulette’s patisserie ran out of camo boxes.”
He huffs and redirects his attention to the map, sketching out little arrows and making notations. He gets on your nerves like that, yet he never fails to lend you a hand when needed. You just need to be more pragmatic. Convince him.
“Please,” you beg. “This is the safest place to hide it; nobody dares to come here without permission.”
He tosses the pencil again on the map, this time more forcefully, and swivels his entire body towards you, crossing his arms and leaning on the desk.
“Yet here you are, in my office, permission or not,” he barks and points toward the door. “Out, now.”
“It’s an emerg-”
“I won’t repeat it.”
“But-”
There’s a knock on the door. You both turn towards the sound.
“Who’s that?” Ghost asks.
“Price,” the voice responds from behind the door.
You turn your head towards Ghost, and he meets your gaze. The once scornful expression he had is now replaced with urgency.
He quickly looks around and motions for you to get under the desk; it has a modesty panel that graces the floor, making it a good enough place to conceal yourself and the box. You run toward your hiding spot and crawl under it while mouthing an “I told you so” to him. He brings his index finger to his mouth while pushing your head further into the opening. You bring your knees to your chest and balance the box there. Ghost quickly sits on top of the desk and picks up the phone.
“Come in.” He shouts.
The door swings open, and Ghost theatrically shuts the phone. He apologises to Price for the delay, explaining that he “was on the phone with one of the Sergeants discussing the upcoming mission.” You hear Price approaching, and Ghost dives right into the mission details without letting him get any closer.
After the lieutenant finishes his briefing, there’s something about the operation being on a tight timeline, how the captain needs everyone to be on point and Ghost assuring him how prepared the team is. They then delve into specifics and strategies, and you hear the map rustling, tapping fingers on the wooden surface above you, scribbling with the pencils and some subtle shifts in posture here and there.
Suddenly, Price’s voice changes direction, and you hear him walking around the desk. Ghost walks towards your hiding place and pushes his office chair closer, squeezing you further towards the modesty panel. You look up and listen to papers being lifted up. You hold your breath, and your heart pulses in your ears.
“Are these the documents for the mission?” Price asks.
“Yes, sir.” Ghost replies.
“Good.” The captain exclaims. “Let’s meet with the team and finalise the plans in the briefing room in an hour.”
“Understood,” Ghost says, and you hear Price distancing himself from your hiding spot, leaving the room.
Ghost waits a few moments, ensuring the door is closed, and Price is far away, before knocking on the desk twice, signalling that it is safe for you to emerge from under the desk. You put the box on the desk and slowly crawl out.
“I told you it was an emergency,” you repeat. “You didn’t listen.”
He doesn’t respond but grabs the box and walks towards the bookshelf.
“What cake is it?” He asks as he squats in front of a cabinet and places the box there.
“It’s a fruit tart.”
“Christ’s sake,” he grunts as he shuts the cabinet. “Who in their right mind picks a bloody fruit tart for a birthday cake.”
“Captain likes fruit tarts.” You remind him.
He stands up and walks behind his desk. “Be back in half an hour,” he states, looking at his watch. “We’ll do it after the briefing, where everyone will be present.”
“Yes, sir.” You nod and walk towards the door.
“And no poppers, no sparklers, no party horns.” He clarifies.
“What about party hats?” You ask.
“Party hats are fine.” He murmurs. “They don’t make any noise.”
“Should I save one for you, sir?”
He slowly shoots you the same look he did when you stepped into his office. “I don’t know.” He murmurs as he tilts his head. “Should you?”
“I guess not.” You whisper and clasp your hands.
“You guess right.” He whispers back. “Now, and for the final time, go.”
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