#(and ESPECIALLY the reason he's willing to do it for free!!)

[some-bunniii]

Lucifer dotes on a mama!reader

・❥ Caring for an infant isn’t easy, but luckily, you’ve got a charming king willing to do anything for you.

| Part 1 | Part 2 |

x: reader is fem, no use of y/n.

xx: it’s here! a bit of angst, a bit of fluff, but lots of think you’ll enjoy it! keep your eyes out for some pretty art i commissioned inside!

~ 15k words

When you welcomed your daughter into the realm, and finally reached that next long stretch of motherhood, you had prepared yourself for the many changes that accompanied the new addition.

For example, your sleep schedule flipped entirely on its head once you realized that newborn babies slept only a few hours intermittently, which meant a good, long night's rest did not exist anymore. 

You found yourself putting your daughter down for a nap at six in the morning, having spent the previous night breastfeeding and soothing her cries. Sometimes, her wailing lasted several hours, and you began to worry if she had a hellish form of colic. You prayed it wasn’t that, because that would mean it would worsen for the next month or so.

The first few weeks were spent holed up in your room, away from the loud noises and constant active state of the rest of the hotel. It was pretty easy, seeing as it was basically a studio apartment, save for the kitchen, which was an exhausting walk down the hall, even more so than when you were pregnant. 

“Ya look terrible, mama,” Angel Dust had grimaced with a laugh when you appeared like a ghost late one night inside the much posher lobby, your complexion sunken and drained as your feet dragged across the red carpet.

He had just arrived home from a long day at the studio, his expression equally as drained but his demeanor much livelier than your zombie appearance.

You probably did look terrible, in your oversized pajamas that no doubt had stains of baby spit-up and breast milk. You looked unsightly, a mess, that pregnancy glow extinguished like a flame as you tiredly frog blinked in Angel’s direction. 

“Need… to clean the milk bottles… before she wakes up,” you mumbled, lifting three small, dirty baby bottles to view.

“Ya need any help?”

“No, thanks. M’fine,” you waved him off with a yawn, slowly crossing the room towards the kitchen doors. 

There was no reason to bother him with such a task, it was your baby, and he already had enough to deal with at the studio.

“Well, have a good time then. I'm jus’ gonna call it an early night an’ head ta bed,” Angel replied, bidding farewell as he turned and left the lobby. 

Your head twisted to catch a glimpse of his figure turning the corner, surprise crossing your features at his sudden departure. Usually, Angel Dust had a couple of drinks after work or went out to party until the early hours of the morning. 

Tonight, the only thing on the spider demon’s mind was to curl up with Fat Nuggets and sleep those troubling emotions away.

He had been drinking far less lately, or, at least, had been keeping his habits away from the hotel ever since the new hotel was built and your daughter was born. No more did the pornstar burst in after a night at the studio, eyes red and speech slurred as he spoke gibberish and laughed at nothing in particular. 

Even though it was Hell, you were determined to keep the gateways into a chaotic life away from your daughter. She was going to have the best quality of life possible in such a place, and you were vocal about your disapproval of those habits, especially in a place that’s supposed to be free of such sin.

When Cherri began staying longer and longer at the hotel, you were apprehensive at first with how much deeper she seemed to be in ‘the life’. Would she sink further into the depths after Sir. Pentious’ death? It wasn’t easy for someone to deal with both grief and guilt at the same time. 

Fortunately, she had the support of the residents inside the hotel, and she was finding healthier outlets than a thin line of white powder to quell her pain. 

You were grieving too, even if you hadn’t known Sir. Pentious that long in comparison to the others, the little time you spent with him was all but enough. 

Sir. Pentious was kind, and courteous, and made the best cookies you’d ever tasted. You had a connection with the snake demon with your shared enjoyment in cooking, and you welcomed the assistance of his Egg Boiz taste-testing your delicacies. 

Now, he was gone, and the emptiness of his departure was palpable inside the hotel. His loyal egg companions now dwindled to just one singular yolk, the rest having sacrificed their shells along with their selfless general. 

Frank, who had survived solely because he had guarded you at the hospital, returned home to an empty nest and no boss.

You weren’t sure whether the little guy could understand how double death worked, but the way he stared longingly at Sir. Pentious’ portrait in the lobby that he knew his old family was gone for good.

Charlie had done her best to integrate him into the staff, him a room service attendant. He stayed your faithful helper in that way, summoned to your door by the newly installed service button whenever you needed.

“Sorry for bothering you, Frank,” you had smiled down at him, poking your head out from the inside of your room, your daughter latched onto your nipple, “But I’m out of toilet paper and I'm kind of busy right now. Could you go grab me some, please?” 

“Sure thing!” He replied chipperly, lifting his hat courteously from the top of his shell before he scampered down the hall and out of view. 

He’d return with your items of request, as he did for all the rest of the residents. It kept him busy, allowing his one-track mind to stay away from thinking hard thoughts about what was lost for too long.

Those hard thoughts plagued you as well, as you dealt with the grief of losing a friend and the mood swings that began to take over you. The hormonal changes that came post-birth was also something you prepared for, the ‘baby blues’ as most would call it.

It had started as mood swings, the typical sudden bursts of emotions that accompanied your pregnancy, and the ones that liked to show their face around your period. Suddenly, you’d find yourself shooting a glare at a particularly noisy conversation outside of your door, or find your eyes welling up with tears at the slightest inconvenience.

A mix of sleep deprivation and postpartum hormones was not a good one, and you were determined to keep this weakness away from your friends. 

What if they thought you weren’t doing a good job as a mother? All that time, energy, and resources that were used to help you and your baby. They’d think it was all a waste, caring so much only for you to end up a disappointment. 

Was that… how your ex had felt when he chose a whore over his lover and child?

Those thoughts began to plague you, and your anxiety heightened with every passing day. The idea that their judgments on your parenting would be harsh had you withdrawing for longer periods inside your room, and farther away from your friends.

Unfortunately, you weren’t able to keep your feelings completely hidden from them, and you realized quickly how erratic your emotions actually were.

One day, Vaggie had swung by to inform you that they had ordered some pizza, and you were welcome to have some too. You were busy breastfeeding your baby at the time, and had to wait until she was sound asleep to sneak out of your room and into the kitchen. 

When you finally arrived, your stomach growled with giddy anticipation as you passed by the others who had mostly finished their plates, your lateness obvious. The lobby was filled with chatter, all the residents gathered for a nice meal and to catch up on anything new that had transpired during the week.

When you reached the partially open pizza box inside the empty kitchen, that delicious scent wafted to your nose and you licked your lips hungrily. Gripping the lid, you lifted it quickly, your mind already picturing whatever goodness lay inside. 

Was it the classic pepperoni that couldn’t go wrong? Maybe it was from that new pizzeria down the block with their best-selling macaroni and cheese… 

Your train of thought derailed, your gaze narrowing at the contents inside the box. 

A singular slice of pizza was all that remained inside, your most hated topping sprinkled atop the now-cooled cheese. 

Your lip curled at the sight, irritation flickering across your face at the lonely slice. You heard laughter from the conversation behind you, and that only had your eye twitching.

You had lived with these guys during the most intense months of your cravings, and they were aware of what kind of pizza you devoured in an instant and which ones had you gagging. And, only one slice? Had they forgotten about you, even though you had told Vaggie you’d come down after feeding the baby? 

You were itching to commit some sort of violence, which had you steeling your arms from lifting the box and chucking it against the wall. 

Those intrusive thoughts had you rubbing your temple with a frustrated sigh, before lifting a hand to begin plucking the disgusting toppings from the slice. 

As you placed the last of it onto the cardboard, you grabbed the pizza and threw it into the microwave nearby. Your foot tapped impatiently against the marble tile as the slice spun slowly inside the appliance, your thoughts spinning along with it.

By the time you had made it out of the kitchen with steaming food, your tolerance for social interaction was drained, and it seemed a better idea to just eat in your room. 

Passing by a few familiar faces, you only greeted them with a tight smile, walking fast enough so that they’d assume you were busy and it would be less likely for them to invite you to chat. 

Right as you were about to turn the corner into the hall, plate in hand, a figure rounded the corner and smacked into you head-on. Your chests collided, and you felt the plate slip from your grip, you snapped your head up to see the familiar apple-cheeked woman meet your gaze.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Charlie gasped, right as the pizza slid off your plate and began to free-fall down to the carpet.

Your eyes widened, and Charlie tensed as the pizza splat face-down, the tomato sauce beginning to ooze from the sides like a bloody scene and your hand began to tremble.

At first, those intrusive thoughts were prodding you to snap at her, but you held your tongue. That anger quickly morphed into gloom, and your eyes cast down longingly to the overturned slice.

Your lip quivered, and your chest heaved as you took a shaky breath to keep those tears from falling. Charlie’s brows furrowed and she slowly matched your expression as guilt squeezed her stomach. The banter around you quieted, but your gaze was firmly on the woman in front of you. 

Fuck, that was the one thing you were looking forward to today. You couldn’t lose your composure in front of the princess, however, that would heighten her concern, and she already had enough on her plate with the new clients.

“Here, let me get Niffty to clean this up and I can get you some more piz—”

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” You interrupted her, a quiet growl laced in your wavering words as you chuckled humorously, “There isn’t anything left, this was all you guys cared enough to save for me.” 

Charlie’s eyes widened at your tone, before she opened her mouth to speak again just as Niffty walked forward to clean the mess. Looking down, you took notice of the large glob of sauce that had landed on your top, and you clenched your fists in frustration.

“If you excuse me, I have to get changed now,” you huffed, spinning on your heels to face the hallway, not giving the princess any time to press further as you briskly walked away.

That hot, salty liquid began to spill down your cheeks right as you entered into the long corridor, and you desperately tried to wipe them away. Your face was rubbed dry in a desperate bid to silence the tears.

What was wrong with you? It was one slice of pizza, yet your heart ached like your lottery ticket was one number away from winning. Charlie’s expression had proved your mask was beginning to crack, with the mix of concern and surprise toward your change in demeanor. 

Motherhood isn't easy, that had been clear since day one, but you had hoped your emotions would have stabilized by now. It seems that sleep exhaustion and maternal hormones just don’t mix very well, huh?

That incident had been so embarrassing, that you kept to yourself the rest of the week, only venturing out when necessary, which had you spending most of your time with your daughter. 

Your baby couldn’t speak yet, and wouldn’t for quite a while, which meant you had to speak for her. Usually, you attached words to the silly little faces she would make at any action you or another demon did around her. 

The one time you switched her bottle from breast milk to formula, she didn’t seem too happy about it with how big of a stink eye she sent you chugging down her dinner. Peaches was only a month and a half, but her expressiveness was that of a moody, hormonal teenager.

You spent many hours cooped up with her, sometimes, you needed to have a little fun and play puppeteer one evening as the two of you lounged on your bed.

You squished your daughter's cheeks, making tiny little duck lips as you pitched your voice higher, “Yes, Mama, I promise to sleep through the whoooole night this time!”

“Wonderful,” you beamed, using your other hand to pat her approvingly on the stomach, “And you’ll drink your whole bottle without fuss?”

“Yes, Mama! And, I wi—”

“What are you doing?” An amused, honeyed voice came from across your room.

You froze, turning towards the open doorway, your fingers still pinched around the baby's lips as your eyes widened at the familiar face.

There, standing leisurely against his cane, was the casually dressed ‘Big Boss of Hell’. Lucifer’s blonde hair was slicked back, a few curls framing his statuesque features. Those warm, golden eyes and skin that practically shimmered against the waning daylight from your window.  

He tilted his head with a soft, playful smile, as he drank in your figure. The red evening light basked the bed with a warm glow that lit your eyes up like diamonds, enhancing your maternal elegance as you bonded with your daughter. 

Your love for her was obvious, and that always had Lucifer’s heart fluttering, seeing something so pure exist in such a grim world.

Slowly, you slid off the bed, your smile widening every step closer you took towards the king as you crossed the room. Somehow, even in your melancholic state, his presence always seemed to have you energized and bouncy.

“Your Majesty,” you batted your lashes, coming to a stop at the doorway before leaning casually against it. 

“M’lady,” his grin widened into a wide, teeth-glinting smile as he lifted his hand to present a caramel-coated apple nestled snugly atop a thin, wooden stick. Your stomach growled on cue, and the scent that wafted to your nose had your mouth watering.

“Looks like that glow hasn’t left you yet, if I do say,” he replied, his eyes flicking across your figure before meeting your gaze again.

You only shook your head with a breath of laughter, reaching forward and plucking the delicacy from his grip and turning it in your fingers.

“Charlie says she hasn’t seen you for a few days, you really should go and get some fresh air once in a while,” Lucifer continued as you widened the doorway for him to enter, shooting you a stern glance as spoke. 

Is he talking right now? You quirked a brow as he slid past, lifting the offering to your lips and taking a large, hungry bite out of the treat. 

Lucifer’s eyes were on one being in particular, swaddled snuggly across the room on your bed. His gaze lingered on your daughter for a few moments, before he turned to face you again. 

“How is everything going?”

“Good,” you lied. 

“That’s great to hear,” his warm smile widened, and his eyes flicked back over to your daughter, before snapping back to you. 

Lucifer’s cane twisted between his fingers nervously as he opened his mouth to speak, before disregarding his thoughts and clamping his mouth shut with a small huff.

You only titled your head at that, your lips curving into a more genuine smile as you watched him. 

Children were such a soft spot for Lucifer, you could tell the way his demeanor changed instantly when he was in the presence of a baby. His voice turned to velvet whenever his gentle tone gained from experience in soothing their little ears.

You couldn’t imagine how beautiful lullabies sounded with those vocals of his, the very thought making you melt like butter. Although, you haven't gotten the chance to hear them yet. 

His parental instincts seemed to have resurfaced with the birth of your daughter, and that natural affinity for caring for the innocent and helpless buried along with his angelic began to emerge with each passing visit.

He kept his love at a distance, at first. Almost as if he was afraid of getting attached to such a tiny being, like the emotions that came along with it were a deadly force that could take him out far quicker than angelic steel.

Was it because the baby wasn’t his? Did he think you didn’t want him around your child? Maybe, one day he assumed you’d take the baby and leave, and those growing would only break his heart along with your departure. 

You just needed to prove him wrong. 

“Come on,” you finally nudged him with a laugh, setting the apple on a table nearby, before beckoning him to follow you towards the bed. 

It seemed as if Lucifer had been waiting for your approval, as his demeanor lightened at your words and he slowly followed you. His steps were light and quiet as you neared the side of the bed, stopping just as he settled beside you. 

“Peaches! You’re looking quite radiant this evening,” Lucifer greeted with a flourish, as he leaned over the side of your bed, and your daughter’s eyes widened at the familiar face.

Your eyes flicked up to the fallen angel at his words. Peaches, the nickname he had come up with. Shockingly, a name that didn’t derive from apples, ducks, or the circus.

“Well, aren't you just a peach, so quiet and easy for your mama!'' Lucifer had cooed to the little one her first days in Hell, she lay in your arms as he softly brushed a thumb across her chin, “So adwowable wit those chubby wittle cheeks.” 

Your baby had only frowned at the strange man’s touch with a half-lidded gaze, but soon she’d learn to get used to Lucifer’s presence, as he never disappeared for too long without visiting his three favorite girls. 

You had a real name for your daughter that was chosen after her birth, but that could be reserved for when you’d have to pull out the full name card during arguments in her teenage years. Peaches had been a simple phrase that seemed to stick, and even if you weren’t fond of the cute addressal, you wouldn’t dare ruin his first attachment to your daughter.

Peaches had only stared up at the porcelain figure invading her space with a curious gaze, no doubt wondering who this silly was, and why he always left her gifts to fawn over. 

Like the first day you came home from the hospital, he presented you with a beautiful red, silken bassinet, with intricate gold lines woven into the detailed design, enhancing the elegance of the crib. Its plushness looked very comfortable for your daughter, and you adored that Lucifer got you something in the first place.

Another time, he brought you a golden mobile that depicted ducks flying rhythmically in circles, ones that threw vibrant, warm lights across the walls late at night, soothing the girl’s late wakings before they woke you at times. 

That seemed to be Lucifer’s love language towards your daughter, always presenting her with toys and other little gizmos he cooked up inside of his workshop. Finally, the fallen angel had found purpose for the dusty space, instead of constantly tweaking the same old, yellow rubber ducky day after day.

“For you, a fan-favorite from the vault,” Lucifer hummed as he snapped his fingers, and a stuffed goat with devilish horns and bat wings materialized in his hands.

Right as he pulled the plush from behind his back, Peaches became enamored with it, kicking her legs in excitement as the stuffed animal was held high for her to get a full view. Her motor control was still poor, and she couldn’t grasp the amusing creature, but its colorful fur and dragon-like features were something to gawk at in the little one’s eyes.

“Look, she’s smiling!” You beamed beside the fallen angel, heart melting as you watched the little girl’s mouth open with a squeal at the offering, “I think that’s her biggest one yet!”

“It seems I’m just a natural at this kind of thing, huh?” Lucifer winked playfully your way, before he levitated the toy just above your daughter’s head, whose attention was solely on the little goat plush, “I think she’s even starting to like me, too.”

‘You’re such a good daddy, please let me make you one again.’

“Don’t give yourself too much credit,” you replied instead with a simple nod, before turning on your heels to hide your goofy smile and retrieve the caramel apple once more.

You plucked the apple from the table, before biting another large chunk from its side. The flavors swirled in your mouth, and that fog in your mind lessened a little more with each bite.

You watched from a short distance, as Lucifer’s index finger pointed towards the air above your daughter’s head. With a flick of his wrist, a trail of golden sparks shot from his fingertip and upward above their heads, before exploding into a flurry of sparkles that sent golden shadows across the room.

Peaches was digging the light show, her eyes fixated on the floating spectacle before they flickered out of existence. 

“Anything else going on?” The king finally spoke, turning his head slightly to catch a glimpse of you. 

“Not really, just taking it one day at a time,” you responded absentmindedly, lifting the coated apple to your lips to take another bite. 

“Are you free tomorrow?” He blurted, smile cracking wider as straightened himself against his cane. 

You froze, brain short-circuiting as those words processed in your head. You, free? As in, available to partake in some sort of activity with Lucifer?

“Yes, technically…” you trailed off, gaze flicking to your daughter, giddy on her bed as she watched the stuffed goat, “But I can’t just leave the baby alone all evening, she needs me.”

“She doesn’t need you, she’s fine with someone else for a few hours,” he waved off your excuse, before throwing another trail of sparklings into the air, and they exploded in a flurry of golden glimmers above the baby’s head, “I’m sure Charlie would love to spoil the kid for a few hours anyway, don’t you trust her?” 

“Yes…” 

“I was thinking,” Lucifer continued, beginning to take a few slow, deliberate steps towards you, “Nothing too crazy, just a nice, quiet evening with good food. Maybe throw some of my good wine into the mix, what do you say?”

He sent you a sultry, half-lidded gaze as he sidled closer to you, the caramel apple in your grip lowering from your lips as Lucifer enraptured your full attention, heat blooming across your cheeks at his expression. 

“If that is what His Majesty wishes, then I cannot refuse such an offer,” you struggled to keep your voice from wavering, the heat in your cheeks creeping farther down your body.

“But do you want it?” He pressed, only a foot away from you now, his lips upturned in a smirk at your flustered expression. 

Apparently, those horny hormones had also stuck around after your pregnancy. Having such a gorgeous, ethereal figure so close to you made your heart skip a beat as butterflies fluttered in your stomach. 

“I… think that is a very lovely offer, and I would enjoy being able to spend time in just your company,” you finally replied carefully, a smile blooming across your lips.

“Perfect!” Lucifer clapped his hands together, his eyes glinting with glee as he took a step away from you, back toward the bed.

“Goodbye, sweetheart,” The king cooed softly to your daughter, as he plucked the stuffed goat from the air, “Take good care of this little guy, he’s a special one.”

Lowering the plush, Lucifer placed it gently against your baby’s chest, and her chubby little hands came up to wrap firmly around the toy. Ungracefully, the goat was lifted to Peaches’ lips before she opened her mouth to begin suckling on its ear.

“I bet that tastes delicious,” Lucifer laughed, and you smiled fondly at the duo with a tilt of your head.

The fallen angel took a step back from the bed after a moment, before he lifted a hand and snapped his fingers. That familiar white, brim hat materialized from thin air into his grasp, and he turned to you with a smile.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I'm a very busy man and have other matters to attend to,” Lucifer sighed dramatically, brushing past you towards the doorway. 

“I have no doubt,” you shook your head with a laugh, following him towards the end of your room.

Lucifer reached the open doorway, before turning to face you again. He met your gaze for a few moments, before he leaned forward in a bow.

“I’ll see you tomorrow evening, m’lady,” he hummed with delight, adjusting his hat against those beautiful golden curls as you smiled warmly.

“Is there a dress code for our little outing?” you responded with a mischievous grin.

The king only sent you a playful wink, before he stepped out of view and the soft thuds of heeled boots against carpet faded as he disappeared down the hall.

That interaction with Lucifer stewed in your mind for the entire night, as well as into the early morning. Your thoughts drifted to the previous conversation as you snuck down the hall and into the lobby to grab breakfast from the kitchen.

The others were fairly busy, so you were easily able to travel unseen. Angel Dust was working overtime at the studio for a new porn flick, and Charlie was using the extermination to push her hotel further into the spotlight and attract new clients. Vaggie always went along with her, and Alastor was probably up in his fancy new radio tower, doing whatever it was he did up there. 

It was only Husk who remained, always behind the bar, shining the bottles and whistling a strange blues tune. He had begun to rope in his drinking as well, choosing to pick up a bottle much later in the day than usual. It was the early morning hour, when you passed by the bar with breakfast in your hands, and the sober bartender turned to you.

“How’s the kid doing?”

“She’s fine, growing very fast too, gaining more control over her movement every day.”

“That's nice,” Husk’s lips curved a smidge, as he placed the glassware neatly underneath the counter, “Haven’t seen you in a while, glad to know ya ain’t dead or nothin’.”

“Yes…” You said slowly, mind racing for a good excuse, “She has just been fussy lately, so I’ve been tending to her.”

“You should bring her out one of these days,” He lifted his eyes from the glass in his paws, meeting yours with an unreadable expression, “I’m sure the others would be happy to see her.”

You couldn’t tell whether Husk was using the term ‘others’ as an inclusion of him as well, you knew the furry demon had a heart somewhere beneath those layers of fur and grumpiness.

You nodded your head at his words, taking a bite of your breakfast, thoughts drifting as you chewed. You’d have to ask Charlie about babysitting anyway, and you couldn’t avoid her forever.

Maybe, knowing that you were going out with her dad, she’d be thrilled to shoulder the responsibilities of a newborn for a single night, or, she could hate it… which was something you desperately tried not to think too hard about, for your sanity.

Needless to say, Husk was right, your daughter really brought the best out of your friends, as they melted in her vicinity. None of the residents at the hotel had any problem looking after the adorable little demon.

Charlie had stood quietly in the lobby, humming a tune as she rocked the baby softly in her arms. Vaggie stood beside her, tilting her head as Peaches’ eyelids began to droop at the gentle motions.

“They’re as cute as the ones in Heaven, maybe cuter,” The fallen angel spoke with a smile, her hand lifting towards the little girl’s head, before tiny fingers wrapped around a single digit and clamped tight.

“And strong too, wow,” She laughed, trying to gently dislodge her finger from the steel grip.

In the hallway behind them, you turned the corner into the lobby, anxiously fiddling with your appearance as you neared the trio. Dressed in a wine-red outfit, you stumbled slightly in your heels as you navigated over the plush carpet. 

Finally, you were actually able to fit into fashionable attire. Your stomach was no longer inflated with an eight-pound baby, and the aching of your once swollen feet no longer bothered you to continue venturing the world in socks and flip-flops.

“You look really nice in that outfit!” Charlie beamed as she turned at the sounds of footsteps, and Vaggie nodded beside her. Your daughter’s eyes widened at the exclamation, before moving to your figure, tracking your figure as you joined them near the bar. 

Angel Dust was lounging on a bar stool, swishing alcohol absentmindedly inside a martini glass as he scrolled on his phone. He glanced up at the sound of Charlie’s voice, before catching a glimpse of your outfit with a knowing smirk.

“Someone is dressin’ to impress,” he playfully nudged Husk’s shoulder over the bar counter, who turned his head from the bottles he was organizing to sneak a peek. 

Everyone knew who you were trying to impress, and when you came back, they would no doubt prod you for any juicy details. 

You stopped in front of Charlie, smiling as you adjusted your outfit again. You had spent the past few hours getting ready, which also included multiple outfit changes because you were never satisfied with your appearance. You needed to look good, really good if you were going on a date with the king.

Why would Lucifer want anything to do with you? You had nothing to offer, just tired eyes and a baby on your hip. There had to be better options, surely. Just because the man never went anywhere other than his manor and the hotel, didn’t mean there wasn’t a line of demons wanting to fill the place of Charlie’s mother.

Lilith. You tried desperately not to think of her, for your own self-esteem. You had seen pictures of her, in old magazines and glimpses of family portraits in Charlie’s room. Lucifer spoke of her when talking about his daughter’s childhood or humorous memories, but he seemed to keep the reminiscing of her specifically curt around you. 

You struggled to understand why, did he think you’d react poorly to the mention of his ex-wife? Except, It wasn’t your place to act that way, though. She had been married to the king for thousands of years and was the mother of his child. She was the Queen of Hell for crying out loud! Not to mention, drop-dead gorgeous, had a fantastic voice, and cared deeply for her people’s wellbeing. 

In comparison, you were a sad sack of potatoes. At least, in your opinion. 

Self-conscious thoughts like these had slowly begun to fester during your early pregnancy, and peaked when your stomach resembled a watermelon, and, for some reason, it had decided to make a nest in your brain postpartum. Laying more seeds of anxiety and dejection deeper within your mind.

But, when Lucifer was around, it was like you could finally breathe again. His energy was warm and inviting, like taking a sip of the finest liquor and that buzz in your brain thirsting for more. It felt like snuggling your face into soft sheep's wool, nothing but comfort and relief from the harshness of the realm. 

Even if the fallen angel was no longer welcomed inside Heaven’s gates, he still retained that ethereal grace that made you feel like you were committing the largest sin just by staring too hard at those soft lips of his.

The king cared about you, in a way nobody did. He was the only demon in your group who had any experience with raising a child, and he was your support when it came to understanding the same stages of parenthood you were currently going through. In a much lesser light, of course, he had never actually birthed a child and suffered the effects of such a–literal–mind altering experience.

Tonight, you’d be able to have Lucifer all to yourself, and you were determined to make the most of it. 

You had held back from making any advances towards him for so long due to that golden band on his finger that glinted painfully in your eyes. A reminder of his attachment to his ex-wife, and the fragility of your close bond. 

What if Lilith were to come back? Would he choose her, and distance himself from you? What of you then, being dragged by the heartstrings for so long just to have them snapped in your face at his rejection?

That thought had terrified you, so you kept your feelings hidden, and let Lucifer set the pace on how far things would go. You were determined to start changing that, starting tonight.

As you came to a halt in front of Charlie and Vaggie, your daughter cooed softly, and you reached out a hand to run gentle fingers across her cheek lovingly.

“Okay, I think I’ve got everything taken care of. Bottles in the fridge you just need to warm up, first aid kit in my room, and I’ll have my phone on ring in case there’s an emergency,” you nervously triple-recounted everything in your mind.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got this,” Charlie sent you a confident nod of her head, her fingers tightening around your baby as her smile grew.

It is then you come to realize how good of a big sister the princess could make if she were to have a younger sibling. Your heart swelled at that, as you imagined your daughter at least finding companionship in the young woman. Charlie looked like she could really pull off a stellar children’s tea party.

“I know you do, you’re always so responsible,” you replied warmly, and the princess's eyes widened for a moment, before her lips upturned into a grateful smile as you lowered your hand from your daughter’s face.

“So, where are you going?” Vaggie inquired.

“I don’t know, he just told me to wait outside my balcony door. Which means I should probably head there now, if everything is fine out here.”

“We’re good, toots!” Angel Dust called from behind Charlie, throwing his head back before downing the rest of the liquor in his glass, “Go have some fun!” 

You nodded, before wishing farewell to your daughter and the rest of the demons in the lobby before turning on your heel and heading back towards your room. 

“I hope those two have fun,” Vaggie said as you disappeared around the corner. 

“I have to use the bathroom, will you take Peaches for me?” Charlie turned towards her girlfriend, only for Angel Dust to shoot up from his seat with a large grin. 

“I would like to hold the baby!” He strolled up to the duo, and Charlie glanced over to Vaggie, before shrugging and carefully holding the little girl towards the demon. 

“C’mere, cutie!” Angel Dust beamed, arms outstretched to take the child as she kicked her feet in little baby glee. 

“You love your uncle, Angel, dontcha’?” He cooed, lifting the baby with secure hands underneath her armpits, before he leaned in and rubbed noses.

Peaches sneezed, and Angel Dust positioned her to sit in his lap at the bar counter. Husk leaned across to get a better look, before taking a claw and reaching it towards the baby.

Gently, he squished her chubby arm, trailing down towards her hand. Husk didn’t have time to retract his claw, before a tiny hand wrapped around the cat’s finger and refused to let go.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” He grumbled as he allowed your daughter to stay latched onto his digit.

You had just made it inside your room, adjusting your appearance one final time as you reached the balcony doors. Grasping the handle, you pull it open to slip outside, the lights from the city illuminating the balcony’s white tiled floor.

You turned your head to search for the fallen angel, but he was nowhere in sight. Instead, you were left to twiddle your thumbs, eyes casting towards the demons strolling the streets down the hill in the neighborhood below.

Lucifer didn’t forget about the date… did he? He was getting much better at being on time, but you still could not help to worry. 

“Hey.”

You jumped with a gasp, spinning to face the familiar voice. You had to grip the chair beside you to keep from stumbling in heels, your gaze lifting to meet those familiar, yellow eyes.

Lucifer was perched across from you on the balcony’s thin railing, one pair of his large wings stretched wide, throwing shadows across the tiles beneath your feet. The other two he kept folded at his sides, white against the crimson underbelly of his open wings.

They practically shimmered in the waning light, their shape and color unique to only one kind of being, an angel. Husk’s wings could not compare to the exotic beauty before you, and you struggled to keep eye contact with its owner as you examined the rare sight.

“Lucifer!” You scolded playfully, your eyes tracing across every feather that rustled slightly against the gentle breeze, “You scared me! What are you doing up there?”

“I apologize for the fright,” Lucifer chuckled, rising to his full height as he balanced across like a tightrope, closing the distance between the two of you, “I just thought I’d give you a peek of what tonight has to offer.”

His wings beat softly for balance, before they folded in slightly and the fallen angel lowered himself back to sit on his feet, smiling mischievously as he lowered a hand in a gesture for you to take.

“First, you should take off those heels. They look really nice, but I don’t think you’re going to be able to climb up here with them on.”

You furrowed your brows, suspicion in your gaze as he extended a hand for you to take. What was your darling king planning? 

“Why exactly am I climbing onto the railing?” You kicked off your heels, and you shivered at the cold flooring against your skin.

Your bare feet planted on the cool tiles for a few moments, before your fingers laced with Lucifer’s, and he effortlessly lifted you to stand beside him.

“Well,” He started, his fingers brushing up your wrist to grip your forearm, before steadying you with a flap of his wings, “I just thought you wanted a better mode of transportation to our little dinner than walking in those stilettos.”

“And what ‘mode’ are we talking about here?” You turned to him with widening eyes, realization slowly dawning on you.

Lucifer’s grin only widened, and you gulped. He really was serious about taking an evening flight, and you mentally prepared yourself as your gaze lowered to the long drop beneath you. You steeled your gaze towards the fallen angel, who scooted even closer.

“Are you ready?” His honeyed voice whispered in your ear, and you felt like exploding at the feeling of his touch across your waist.

Were you? Never did you guess this was what he had planned, and never did you imagine finding yourself being able to travel with your feet off the ground. Adrenaline began to pump through your veins the longer you stood there in thought.

With one final deep breath, you moved your hands to grip tightly against Lucifer’s dress shirt, and nodded your approval. Lucifer’s hold on your waist tightened, and you screwed your eyes shut just as you felt him pull you forward and off the side of the railing.

The wind whipped past your ears, your eyelids still locked shut as you clamped your mouth shut to keep from screaming. The two of you were falling fast, and for a moment you imagined Lucifer unable to lift in time, and you’d become a splatter against the grass.

Instead, you heard his other two pairs of wings unfurl and spread above you, the thrumming of heavy flaps and the feeling of being lifted once more had you cracking an eye open. The wind whistled its natural tune, and your eyelids fluttered open to see your legs dangling beneath you. 

You were very high up, as Lucifer glided across the outskirts of the city, those vibrant, flashing strobe lights that lit up the sky above V Tower passed in a multicolored blur. 

You were flying! Free and uncaged from the stress back on the ground, that weightless feeling was something you’ve never experienced all your years in Hell. The adrenaline rush that hit your body had you laughing in the thrill as the fallen angel dipped and rolled. Cars passed below you, and you waved to the pedestrians walking on the streets underneath your feet, if they even noticed your presence.

“Having fun?” Lucifer called from above, and you cocked your head up to meet his playful gaze.

“More than I ever imagined!” You replied, the wind carrying your voice to the king’s ears.

“Good, now hang on!” He laughed, and his wings tightened against his body, causing the two of you to dive with greater speed towards the buildings below. 

Your grip on Lucifer’s shirt tightened and he pulled you closer as he sped towards an illuminated rooftop below. 

Rather carefully, your feet hit the cold bricks beneath, and Lucifer released his hold around your waist to land beside you. His wings folded against his back, and with a split-second flash of golden light, they completely vanished from his frame. 

Lucifer began to walk toward the center of the rooftop, beckoning for you to join. Taking a few steps forward, your eyes follow his path, before widening at the scene. 

Powerful magic had transformed the space into a romantic, candle-lit dinner right out of the movies. The string of bulbs that cast warm light across the small, cute table before you held an intimate glow, paired with the soft, classical tune that filled the air.

A single, elegantly shaped candle stands at the center, casting a warm, flickering light that dances across your face. The table was adorned with a lace-trimmed cloth fluttering gently in the breeze. On top, there's an assortment of delectable treats—cheeses, fruits, and a selection of fine chocolates.

The backdrop is breathtaking, with the city spread out below, its lights twinkling like stars in the distance. The distant hum of traffic and city life is a soothing contrast to the quiet rooftop ambiance. 

Lucifer only smiles at you, before he pulls a chair slightly from the table and gestures for you to sit. You oblige, settling into the comfortable padded seat as he pushes the chair back in place.

He settled into the seat across from you, and you leaned over the table slightly to take a look at the charcuterie board lined with various cheese, meats, and chips. Your stomach growled, and you plucked a few items from the board and placed them on the white plate sitting before you. 

“Is everything to your liking?” Lucifer hummed, as he popped a slice of prosciutto into his mouth, before meeting your gaze.

“This is really nice,” you smiled, lifting your eyes to trace the string of lights that zig-zagged across your head, “I had expected you to just take me to a fancy restaurant, not something like this.”

“I like the atmosphere of places like these much better. Less noisy and more.. personal,” he replied, lifting another meat slice to his lips  “I just thought you needed time away from that suffocating little room, the both of us, really.”

“I appreciate your thoughtfulness, this was very kind of you.”

Lucifer smiled softly, and heat spread across your face at his staring. You took another bite of cheese, and the king’s eyes flicked across the table and his brows furrowed.

“I feel like I’m forgetting something…” he started, rubbing his chin deep in thought, before his eyes widened as he perked, “That’s right, the wine! Waiter!”

The king snapped his fingers, and you turned your head in confusion. The rooftop was empty, save for the two of you, who could possibl–

Your thoughts were interrupted when footsteps echoed across the gravel, and a figure dressed in a black and white tuxedo strolled forward toward you. It was… another Lucifer, and your mouth dropped slightly at the familiar face, whose curly mustache bounced as he grinned.

A red bottle of wine materialized in the double’s hands, and with a loud pop the cork lid flew across the rooftop. Fizz spilled from the bottle for a few moments as the waiter stopped beside you. Lowering the bottom, he poured the empty glass in front of you to the brim, before standing straight once more.

“For you, ma chérie,” Lucifer #2 spoke with a perfect French accent, before bowing respectfully to you. 

He sent you a playful wink as he slid over to your Lucifer’s side, and lowered the wine bottle. Lucifer watched his glass fill, before shooing away his double, who backed away from the table and vanished into the shadows.

You lift the wine glass to your lips, taking a long sip of the dark red liquor. Its rich, apple flavor danced on your tongue as warmth bloomed from your stomach. 

“This is amazing! When you were talking about good wine, I didn’t think you meant this good,” you beamed, that buzz already tingling in your brain as you took another sip.

“An old recipe that’s been sitting in my cellar for, well… a few thousand years by now,” Lucifer swirled the wine in his glass, before lifting it to his lips.

As you nibble on the delicate offerings, conversation flows effortlessly between you both. The topics range from silly memories and active interests, punctuated by laughter and shared glances. Lucifer's eyes hold a warmth and depth that matches the glow of the candle, his demeanor a mix of confidence and vulnerability, as he shares with you details of his past.

Time seems to stand still as you savor each other's company, the burdens upon your shoulders vanishing for the moment, as you keep your gaze fixed on the gorgeous face across from you. The night feels infinite, filled with promise and the simple joy of being together.

Unfortunately, time passed much quicker than you hoped, as the sky above was blanketed in darkness at the late hour. Even with the giddy buzz from the wine, exhaustion was still creeping up your spine, and your eyelids were growing heavy.

Lucifer and you both stood at the same time, and when the king joined you at one end of the table, he lifted a hand toward you. It was a gesture for you to take, and when your eyes lowered, you found that the golden band usually around his finger was nowhere in sight.

Your eyes widened, and something stirred inside you. You didn’t waste any time in reaching forward and lacing your fingers with his, his touch soft and warmth bloomed from his fingertips. 

What now? Should you just lean over and kiss him? No, not on the first date, that’s silly! It must have been the buzz of the wine making all those intrusive thoughts seem very logical as you locked eyes with the king for a few moments.

But… was it really the first date? Sure, you had never spent time together so.. intimately before, but he was there for you a lot during your pregnancy. Helped you cook, filled your day with entertainment, and cared for your health, all he did by choice. 

Which is why you felt so weird asking for his help now, he had already done so much, any more and you’d feel utterly… useless.

It seemed like Lucifer wanted to say something, his brows furrowed slightly, lips moving as if he was just moments from speaking. He held his tongue though, sighing softly in the breeze as he turned his head towards the vibrant cityscape.

You followed his gaze, glimpsing the large, digital billboards a few streets away depicting lude models and VoxTek advertisements. 

“Are you sure you’re doing okay, with the baby and everything? You know you can always ask me for help, right?” Lucifer's words caught you off guard, and your head turned to meet his gaze.

Was he catching onto how much you were really struggling? You bit your lip, mind racing. You had tried so hard to seem normal, but the truth was, you felt like a different person after your baby. These emotions that refuse to leave you in peace were only creating a deeper divide between you and everyone else.

Your daughter was beautiful, and you loved her so much. But, she was still a mentally draining, constantly hungry being that begged for your attention 24/7 in the form of harsh, deafening wails. It seemed to be improving, hopefully.

“I think so,” you answered honestly, using your free hand to rub your shoulder soothingly, “It was tough for a while, but I think whatever has been bothering her is going away. Everything should be much smoother from here on out.”

Lucifer looked at you for another moment, as if he was finding it hard to believe you. He didn’t press further, instead giving your hand a supportive squeeze before tugging 

“Ready for round two?” He smiled, his wings unfurling from behind his back as stepped onto the edge of the roof beside him.

You only laughed as he pulled you close to him and the two of you fell off the side of the building. Lucifer’s wings stretched wide as they lifted the two of you towards the sky, your worries in the wind once more.

You should have knocked on wood when you told Lucifer your daughter’s crying fits were improving, because only a few days later, it was quite the opposite. Peaches has been overcome with another intense round of colic, and her screams bounced across the bedroom as you rocked her gently in your arms.

You had spent the past hour trying to soothe her cries, to no avail. Tears pricked at your eyes as you lifted a binkie towards her mouth, it took a few moments for the little girl to even notice her outburst, before she clamped her mouth around it and began to suckle. 

Her crying turned to whimpers, which soon faded into sniffles as she suckled on the pacifier. You exhaled a sigh of relief, as you slowly lowered her into the red bassinet beside you. Carefully, you positioned her comfortably on the plush bedding, placing a small blanket snugly around her toes to keep her from waking from the cold, before you straightened again. 

What could she possibly be feeling that you were unable to help her through? You weren’t telepathic, and the mystery was only driving you mad. 

You needed fresh air, and your daughter’s wails were finally silenced long enough to be able to disappear for a few minutes and recollect yourself. With caution, you took quiet steps across the room towards the balcony doorways that were concealed behind dark red curtains. Slowly, you reached through the thick fabric to grasp at the handle, before pulling it open just a crack to slip through.

The door closed softly behind you with a barely audible click, and that large breath held in your lungs finally expelled with a heavy sigh, heavy with emotions you so desperately wanted to release from your mind in any way possible. If it meant collapsing to the ground and flooding the balcony with the outpour of unsung frustrations.

You felt so useless. Your daughter was in some kind of misery, and the effects of the constant jump to tears were starting to take a noticeable effect on the infant. She just seemed so tired, practically pleading for you to end whatever misery she could possibly be facing.

You were at your wit's end, and you stared out into the distance, your breath quickening as tears threatened to fall. You just needed some time alone, time to think, and maybe, just maybe, it was time to ask for hel–

“Boo!” A sudden voice near your ear pulled you back into reality, and your heart slammed into your chest.

This time you screamed, your back hitting the railing as you quickly pivoted to find Lucifer, perched atop the railing once more. His wings were gone now, and his smile was wide as he landed on the tile next to you.

“Ha! I got you good, didn’t I?” Lucifer laughed, and you tensed at the volume.

“Shhh!” You hissed, placing a finger to your lips and Lucifer froze.

“Sorry…” He grimaced, glancing at the glass doorway before taking a step closer toward you,  "is she asleep?” 

“Yes, I’ve been trying to get her to settle down all day… she’s been really fussy and it’s been hard,” you sighed, turning your head slightly to hide the emotion building on your face.

“Oh, I had no idea. I just swung by to ask you something, but I see you're a little preoccupied at the moment,” Lucifer chuckled nervously, concern written across his features at your glistening eyes and quivering frown.

You were having trouble containing all the horrible things you were feeling, and your body began to react to the pressure that was threatening to burst inside of you. Inhaling a shaking breath, you crossed your arms and held them close to your chest, your heart beating rapidly. 

“Hey... are you okay?” You felt a hand softly grasp your forearm, and that warm touch was what had you coming undone before the king.

Tears poured down your cheeks, your body shaking with sobs as you slammed a hand over your mouth to hold back the anguished, raw sounds that were begging to be set free. 

You felt utterly exposed, vulnerable in a way you hadn’t allowed yourself to be in a really long time. The weight of your emotions crashed over you like a tidal wave, threatening to engulf you in its depth. 

You felt a hand soothingly rub circles into your back, another one on your forearm as the king tried his best to show his support through silent gestures. You choked back another sob, straightening in embarrassment and you regained control of your composure. 

“I’m sorry,” you finally whispered, face twisting as you tried to compose yourself, “I’m trying to be a good mother, but it must be obvious how terrible of one I am.”

“What? Don’t say that!” Lucifer shook his head quickly, lips curving into a nervous smile as he spoke, “You’re doing a great job, nobody thinks otherwise.”

“I’m sure,” you replied bitterly, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Times like these can be really hard, I understand how you fee–”

“You don’t, though!” You snapped, lifting a hand to harshly rub your face free of the river running down your cheeks.

“Okay, maybe that's true, but I'm just worried about you, you’ve been—!”

Crying erupted from behind the door, and Lucifer’s mouth clamped shut at the sudden interruption. You jumped at the noise, one hand quickly reaching backward to grasp at the doorknob.

“I’m sorry, she’s crying again and I need to go. If you want to help so badly, come back another time!” the words spilled from your lips in a single breath, and your body moved past the threshold of the doorway as you turned away from the fallen angel.

“Wait! Please let me-!” 

The door locked into place, ceasing the desperate words from the other side. You couldn’t bear to listen any longer, embarrassed by your childish outburst of emotions.

Resting your forehead against the wooden surface, you squeezed your eyes shut, collecting yourself. Your daughter screamed for you across the room, only intensifying the ringing in your ears and pushing the tears to spill faster down your cheeks.

You saw Lucifer’s shadow behind the curtains for a few moments longer, before his silhouette backed away and disappeared over the railing. You rubbed a hand across your face as your daughter screamed, growling at yourself before you stalked towards the crib.

It had only been a few days later, when you heard your daughter's whimpers begin from across the room in her red bassinet sometime in the very early morning hours. You groaned, so comfortable in your nest of pillows and weighted blankets to heed her noisy demands.

You were exhausted, and for once there had been hope that you’d catch a few more hours before having to awake. Peaches wasn’t crying, though, not like her usual wails. You were still in the clutches of sleep, and your consciousness was drifting in and out, and the sounds around you were dampened by the dreamy state.

Then, something else joined the soft whimpers, a faint voice that had you stirring awake with heavy eyelids and sliding the plush covers from your figure. A rich, melodious tone hit your ears, delicate and soothing in the night. 

It sounded… like a violin. It was hauntingly beautiful, a lone siren in the stillness as it lulled your daughter into a deep sleep.

You lifted yourself from the warmth of the sheets, the cold air kissing your bare skin as you slid to the edge of your bed, eyes squinted to see through the darkness towards the corner. In the maroon lighting that escaped through a slit between the curtains of the balcony doors, you could make out some shadowed figure hunched slightly above the crib, your view limited by the small dining table in between you and the stranger.

Quietly, you slid over to the edge of the bed, before planting your feet softly against the plush rug underneath. You took careful steps as you snuck around the table in the center of your room, the music growing louder as you neared the bassinet.

Slowly, you peeked from behind the dining chair, your gaze followed the dappled, red light from the curtains, as they lit the features of a familiar, pearlescent skin with a ruby-like glow.

Lucifer.

His movements were graceful, like a swan, as he slid the bow across the strings, which glowed a subtle golden light as the heavenly melody left the instrument and filled your body with awe. His gaze fixed on the tiny figure nestled inside the crib, his features concentrated as he continued to play.

You only watched, silent as the lullaby began to damper, and the bow’s movements slowed. Soon, the music ceased, and Lucifer lowered the bow to his lap as he took a seat on a sofa behind him wearing a satisfied expression. Your heart swelled with emotion at the realization of the love behind his actions, and you took another step forward.

“Lucifer?” 

The king jumped at your voice, his fingers tightening around the instrument in his hold as he slowly turned his head with a large, innocent grin.

“Heyyyyy,” Lucifer replied awkwardly, lowering the violin from his shoulder, and setting it down onto the cushion beside him. 

The fallen angel met your gaze once more with an apologetic smile, rubbing his neck uneasily. He was trying to quiet without waking you, which he did the opposite, and it was rather awkward with his intrusion to soothe your daughter. You quietly moved forward, closing the distance between the two of you he chuckled nervously.

“I’m sorry for not announcing my presence, you told me to come back another time, then I just heard her crying and–”

Lucifer’s words caught in his throat, pupils dilating as your fingers came up to slowly brush across his chin, before settling to gently cup his cheek. Your thumb softly grazed across those red cheeks of his, and the tension in the fallen angel’s limbs subsided at your caring touch.

You didn’t know what had come upon you, but the craving to be close to this pure-intentioned being, in a literal and figurative sense, outweighed any thoughts of keeping your feelings at bay anymore. 

“Why are you so good to me?” You whispered, lips beginning to quiver.

Lucifer’s gaze softened, and he melted in your palm. Warmth spread across your fingers, easing the ache in your muscles and deep in your bones, as euphoria overcame you. 

“Because you’re one of the only good things left in my life,” he replied, his voice tight with emotion, as if he was choking back tears, “You, Charlie, and…”

Lucifer trailed off as his eyes lowered to your sleeping daughter, adoration in his gaze. It was pure love, the kind that lasted for an eternity. Your heart swelled at that, and lifting a hand to his other cheek, you cupped his face and smiled warmly.

“Can I kiss you?” 

“Kiss me? Well–ha–I don’t find anything wrong with tha–” Lucifer’s stammered reply was cut off once more as you pulled him forward into your embrace.

You pressed your lips to his, they were warm and soft, and you drank in the sweetness of Lucifer’s aroma, nibbling slightly at his bottom lip. You felt his hands slide to your waist, before grasping gently and pulling you flush against his chest. 

Lucifer leaned backward slowly, his back hitting the support of the sofa and you shifted to fully rest against him, your lips moving to delicately graze across his chin, and you felt his heart quicken at the touch.

Lucifer’s breath hitched slightly as your lips traced along his jawline, you lingered for a moment, feeling the warmth of his breath on your cheek. His hands, still at your waist, tightened ever so slightly. The softness of his lips beckoned, and you closed the remaining distance, meeting in a tender, lingering kiss. 

Your eyelids were heavy, and you slowly broke the kiss and let your head fall into the warmth of the fallen angel's chest, tightening your hold around him and snuggling closer.

“Thank you, for putting her to sleep,” you murmured into Lucifer’s shirt, before feeling claws slide up to your back, caressing the area softly as he hummed a reply.

The two of you embraced silently, lost in the intimacy as you listened to the gentle thrum of his heart, and he continued drawing circles in your back with pleasurable movements. You felt yourself drifting into slumber once more, and your breath slowed as you heeded your body’s exhausted demands.

“You should come stay at my manor,” Lucifer whispered above you, his chin resting gently against the top of your head. 

Your eyelids fluttered open at that, sleep in the back of your mind at his words as you lifted your head to meet his gaze with a raised, disbelieving brow.

“What?”

Lucifer’s lips tightened, and his eyes bounced across the room as he struggled to formulate a response.

“Well, I–I mean, it would be a lot better than staying here, right? I could hire you as my… private chef! That way, you would make your own money to support yourself. You could even have a whole wing of the manor if you wanted, also a big nursery, a private kitchen, and a master bedroom as big as this entire living space!”

Your mouth opened slightly, head spinning. Live in the same house as Lucifer? The royal manor to call home? Probably the most luxurious and non-hellish place to exist in all the seven rings? He sounded completely serious, and you never expected him to make such a bold offer. You’d also be able to support yourself independently by working as Lucifer’s ‘private chef’, save for the free room and board.

“And, of course, you get to permit who comes and goes in that area, so if you wanted to keep everyone, including me, out…you could do that, too.”

Lucifer’s tone sank slightly as those words left his lips, and your brows furrowed in thought. 

“We’ll you give me time to think about it?” You asked slowly.

“Of course!” Lucifer nodded with a satisfied smile, content you were even considering his sudden proposition, “Take all the time you need.”

The two of you fell back into comfortable silence, and stayed locked in an embrace for the rest of the morning, and the crimson light peeking through the curtains began to lighten with the coming dawn. Even as you drifted into sleep, Lucifer’s words lingered in your mind as you slipped from consciousness.

They continued to linger the following evening, as you spilled your heart out to Angel Dust at the bar, your face in your hands as you recalled verbatim. He sipped from his glass of alcohol, lips set in thought as he listened intently. 

Out of everyone in the hotel, you didn’t know why you went to Angel for advice, especially in dealing with romance, but you told him everything nonetheless. About going to live with Lucifer, all the help he’s been to you thus far, and the encounter with him earlier. You even gave him a brief glimpse into the… physical intimacy the two of you also had shared earlier.

“I think ya should do it,” Angel Dust said after a few moments of silence, downing the remaining liquor in his glass, before turning to you. You lifted your head from your hands, you met his gaze with surprise written across your features.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, placing one hand supportively on your shoulder as he continued, “Now I ain’t tryna be mean to ya, but… the hotel was a great place for you before the baby, but with our track record with keeping this place from being attacked by thugs and angels, it mayyy not be so good for the actual baby. Ya get me?”

You took a sip of the water in front of you, nodding slowly as the answer you had been searching for finally settled on your shoulders. You turned to face the spider demon, your lips curving into a small frown and he tilted his head at you.

“I’m really going to miss you guys,” you murmured, rubbing your hands together self-soothing.

“Oh, you’re gonna make me cry, toots! C’mere!,” Angel Dust wrapped all four arms around you, and you returned the embrace with a tight grip. 

And wow, his fuzz was soft. You finally understood the appeal as you held your friend close. Even though in retrospect you had only known the porn star for a short amount of time, the bond you shared was heartwarming and kind. One of the few relationships of Angel’s that didn’t devolve into debauchery and drugs. 

Two hours later, you stood in front of Charlie, hands once again rubbing together in an attempt to soothe the nerves that were making it difficult to hold eye contact with the princess as you filled her in on the decision regarding your future. You planned to move into the manor, and raise the baby in a place that most resembled a home, instead of growing up in a hotel room.

“You’re going to go live with my dad?” She asked slowly, her brows furrowed at your words.

You tensed. Was she apprehensive of the idea?

“Yes, but it’s nothing crazy like I’m getting with your dad or anything… haha.. yeah,” you trailed off, because you were feeling like that may turn out to be untrue sooner than later.

At least, you hoped they did. For now, it was just something along the lines of roommates, even with how silly that sounded in your head.

“Well…” She began, rubbing her chin in thought, and sweat beaded down your forehead as she continued, “I think… it's a wonderful idea! I really enjoyed growing up there, and I’m sure your daughter would too!”

Phew. You exhaled a sigh of relief, the tension leaving your body and your shoulders relaxed. 

With Charlie’s blessing, it was all you needed to give Lucifer the news. He practically jumped for joy as you gave him your answer, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

“I have to baby-proof the whole place beforehand!” he had proclaimed, racing around the makeshift room he had been staying in the past few days as he grabbed his cane. 

“She won’t even be able to crawl for a while longer,” you had laughed with a raised brow.

“I can’t afford anything less than perfect,” Lucifer shook his head, grabbing his coat and hat to get everything ready as soon as possible, “Don’t worry, I’ve got the power of creation, remember? It’ll only be a jiffy.”

The king had literally exploded into a burst of confetti, a sizzle of magic zapping him out of the room and away to the manor. You had blinked, the colored paper mache settling on your shoulders as you turned towards the hallway.

It seemed like the only thing that was left was to start packing, and so away you worked for the next few hours. 

Peaches was swaddled tightly against your chest in a makeshift baby wrap, made from a sheet of fabric that held her close and secure to you while you placed clothes and other items into organized boxes.

Lucifer had been back in a jiffy, appearing at your door right as you finished stuffing everything away into storage. It took a snap of his finger for all of your things to go poof in a cloud of red smoke, and the king had summoned a limo to take the three of you back to the manor, since traveling with magic was risky with an infant. 

You had stood on the front steps of the hotel, trying to contain the tears as you wished farewell to your friends. They watched you leave with furrowed brows, and Charlie had even sniffled once as you and your daughter climbed into the white vehicle. 

“Come by and visit us sometime!” Charlie called as the limo pulled off from the curve and you leaned out the window for a final wave as the hotel disappeared from view.

When you arrived at that glittering, white, and gold royal home, you were met with tall, imposing statues depicting regal figures from centuries past, their stony gazes fixed upon the entrance. As the limo pulled up to the front steps, you noticed the large gardens surrounding the manor, each flower seemingly in perfect bloom despite the season. Fountains sprayed later spouts of water up in the air, before cascading down into glittering pools.

“She’s a beauty, ain’t she?” Lucifer had smiled as you took your tour around the premises, examining the once-neatly trimmed bushes that lined the place.

There were no imp servants, or attendees at all really, which explained why the place was beginning to look overgrown by the hellish flora. Large red vines climbed up the manor’s side, a few even weaved across large panes of glass, windows that would have once offered a beautiful sight. 

It appeared the current homeowner was not doing a very good job maintaining the place, and you weren’t going to let this place rot any longer. You’d have to add landscaping to the job description when you felt good enough to do such heavy tasks.

Right as you stepped through those large, golden doors, you were greeted with crystal chandeliers that illuminated a giant corridor. Plush, red carpet met your feet as you a few more steps inside, your eyes tracing over the array of paintings and sculptures lining the walls, along with a few family portraits and other elegant decor. 

It was clear that the interior was designed by the women of the house, the lack of circus decor even prevalent inside the Hazbin Hotel was nowhere in sight. As you followed Lucifer down the hallway, you guessed his withdrawals had given him no strength to change the house to his liking. You stepped through a tall, open doorway into what seemed to be a parlor.

Lucifer paused, turning to you with a warm smile as you joined him with your daughter in your arms inside the living space. You took in the sight of velvet couches circling a large fireplace and a small bar snug against the opposite wall, bottles of liquor lining the racks behind the counter.

"Welcome home," he said, his voice soft as he turned. Peaches cooed softly, seemingly content in the entrancing, shiny surroundings. You followed Lucifer down another large corridor, and he began to give a proper tour of the residency.

You didn’t realize how big this place really was until he showed you the third parlor in the house. This one had more tables, seemingly for dining primarily, but with a similar fireplace nestled in one of the walls near two, red armchairs. 

When Lucifer said you’d have large, private areas, you assumed he was just being generous and giving you some of his dwellings. Now, you knew that wasn’t the case, as there was definitely enough for the both of you between three large bathrooms, five bedrooms, and two dining rooms. 

It took a few days to settle in, as Lucifer helped you unpack your things with easy magic and you found renewed energy in making the nursery perfect for your daughter.

It was clear, from day one, that the two of you were going to be just roommates, when you found yourself stealing kick kisses from him as you organized the nursery, or when his hand found your waist as you rocked Peaches to sleep in your arms some days. Some nights, you found yourself playfully bantering with the fallen angel in front of the fireplace, a glass of wine in your hands as gentle music played in the back. 

Lucifer’s presence and companionship seemed to be what you needed for your emotions to begin to stabilize, along with the fact that you had practically an entire mansion to yourself, instead of sharing the living areas with a large group of demons like back at the hotel. 

The king wasn’t holed up in his home all the time anymore, as he joined his daughter in promoting the hotel and actually making an effort to go to a meeting here and there. He had a purpose now, and you noticed that subtle ethereal radiance that lined his figure began to glow brighter with each passing day.

Lucifer’s social battery was still adjusting to the changes in his daily routines, and some nights he’d return with heavy eyelids and sluggish steps, as if he had returned from a battle against Heaven.

You had been sitting in the front parlor one cozy night, a book in your hand as you waited for the king’s return. He usually wasn’t gone so long, and the dinner you had made had gone cold, so all there was to do was sit around and wait.

Your daughter’s colic seemed to have tapered off by now, as it has already been a few weeks since you arrived at the manor. This was a relief, and you found yourself sleeping much longer, your energy and patience naturally returning. 

That fear of being useless began to dissipate, now that you were able to enjoy time in the kitchen, testing out new receipts for Lucifer as his chef. He paid you very handsomely, even though you rarely did cook as you recovered from postpartum and kept busy with the baby.

You didn’t complain though, it was nice to see a paycheck that could actually cover all your groceries and bills, if you actually paid any of the bills around here... did Lucifer even have bills?

Your thoughts were cut off when the sound of heeled boots thumped across the corridor right outside the room, and the book in your hands lowered to the coffee table in front of you. 

Lucifer kicked off his boots at the door to the parlor, his hooves meeting the carpet as they dragged towards the couch you were lazing on. His blonde was hair disheveled, and some of the gold buttons on his vest were unbuttoned, revealing a glimpse of what lay below his collarbone.

He looked exhausted, his eyes tiredly frog-blinking as he fell against the cushions beside you, before exhaling a long, drawn-out sigh. 

“Rough day?” You whispered softly, and he turned his head slightly to face you.

“Just.. a lot,” was Lucifer’s response, his eyelids fluttering close for a few moments as he drank in the warmth from the crackling fire nearby.

You watched the fallen angel for a few more moments, his breath rising and falling slowly as he relaxed. His skin practically glowed against the soft colors thrown across the room from the dancing flames. A thought crossed your mind, and hesitantly, you reached a hand to Lucifer’s shoulder.

You felt him tense slightly from your touch, before relaxing slowly as you gripped his shoulder and forearm and began tugging him to lay down against you. He turned his head, raising a brow as he began to lean against you.

“Come here,” you smiled warmly, as you pulled him to fall over against you.

Lucifer’s head softly landed on your lap, his face upturned towards the ceiling as you smiled down at him. He watched the orange light reflect against your skin, enhancing your already perfect features. 

You lifted a hand towards his face, before you began to gently brush your fingers through his hair. Your nails grazed against the king’s scalp and a satisfied sigh left his lips. A hum reached his ears, as you quietly filled the room, with the soft tune. 

Something stirred inside the king, and emotions began bubbling up into his throat, and he could barely contain them as his lips parted.

“Can I tell you something?” Lucifer whispered after a moment.

“Of course,” you nodded, tilting your head down to him.

“I think… that I’m in love with you.”

Those words had your hands stilling against his scalp, and your breath hitched.

Lucifer in love with you? 

Oh, the joy you felt, at finally hearing those words you only had dreamed of for so long. Your grin spreading ear to ear as heat crept across your cheeks.

“Oh, you silly man,” you laughed softly down to the nervous face in your lap, before you gripped Lucifer by the collar and pulled him up from your lap.

You leaned down and pressed your lips softly to his, and the king rose the rest of the way on his own. He pulled you against him, as his back hit the cushions and you pivoted to straddle him as the kiss deepened. 

Lucifer’s arms were snaked around your waist, and your hands cupped both sides of his face as the two of you were lost in this intimate, quiet moment of affection finally revealed.

Time flew by fast after that, once your daily routines began to settle into place. Lucifer began to step in more in raising the baby, and sometimes you’d find your daughter in his arms, and a sweet, soothing tune coming from his lips.

You’d stand there, leaning against the nursery doorway as you watched with a warm smile. Peaches was beginning to like–no, love him. You could tell when she started to let him dress her up without her usual stink eye. She was now able to sit up and speak in her own, unique form of baby talk.

“Stop moving,” You had heard Lucifer laugh one day from inside the large bedroom, “You’re making this harder than it needs to be!”

A string of incomprehensible sounds followed, high-pitched babbling from the tiny figure in response.

“Hey, don’t give me attitude, missy!” You heard playful chastising from the king, and you turned into the doorway to see his back towards you, as he kneeled over your daughter. 

Her tiny legs kicked in protest as he wrangled something onto her, and you took a few steps into the room before announcing your presence.

“Lucifer…?” You started, nearing the bed.

He jumped at your voice, before pivoting to face you with an innocent smile. Your daughter was visible now, some kind of bright yellow fabric around her head and hugging the rest of her body.

“Hey! Don’t mind us, we're just testing something!” Lucifer’s smile widened.

“Testing what?” You asked with a smile.

Lucifer’s smile turned playful as he turned back to your daughter and lifted her towards you, and your eyes widened.

Peaches was dressed in a fuzzy, yellow duck onesie. Its head was designed into a hood that was pulled over her head, the orange beaking sticking out and resting slightly on her forehead. She babbled something incoherent with an open, gummed smile, something probably along the lines of ‘Look! Don’t I look so gosh darn cute?’

“I pulled out some of Charlie’s baby clothes from storage, and funny enough they fit Peaches just fine,” Lucifer continued, placing his cheek against your daughter’s and rubbing it affectionately with puckered lips, “She is so adowable in her wittle onesie, huh?”

“Yes, she is!” You cooed, leaning forward to pinch one of her cheeks with a grin.

The three of you were beginning to turn into a proper family, and it became obvious when Lucifer started making breakfast for the three of you in the early mornings, despite paying you for such tasks.

“You know that's my job, right?” You quirked a brow as Lucifer stood in front of the stone, flipping large, fluffy pancakes in a pan, before placing them upon a steaming pile of deliciousness. 

“You have days off, don’t you?” He hummed in response, turning off the stove and sliding the plate into his hands, “Will you grab the syrup for me, please?”

You opened the cupboards nearby, grabbing the large bottle of syrup as you followed him toward the dining area, your daughter playing with a rattle on the floor near the long table. She was able to crawl now, a speedy little demon that took off as soon as you turned the other way. 

Luckily, Lucifer had baby gates to help with that, and now she was easily confined into any room for fear of escaping. Her tiny stomach growled and she lifted her gaze from the toy as you and Lucifer stepped over the gate. 

Peaches squealed with happiness, and began to crawl towards you, her hands plapping against the tile as she moved. She slowed right next to the last dining chair at the table, before her head lifted to examine it for a moment. 

Your daughter began to lift herself onto two feet as she gripped the dining chair’s leg. She was getting good at standing by herself, but she had never managed to successfully step forward and not flop back onto her butt. 

You set the syrup on the dining table, ignoring her movements as first as you helped set the table. It wasn’t until you turned to place her into the high chair, did you watch your daughter’s foot begin to lift.

Peaches took one step forward, wobbling slightly as she tried to regain balance. Your mouth dropped, and your arm reached out to grip the back of Lucifer’s shirt and tug him beside you.

“What’s going on, why are yo–” Lucifer froze beside you, as your daughter lifted the other foot and took another wobbly step forward.

She had never remained on two feet for this long, and she didn’t look like she was stopping yet. Lucifer quickly lowered onto his knees, and you joined him as he stretched out his arms.

“Peaches, come on!” He called to the little girl, who was only a foot away from the two as she smiled at the fallen angel and took another step closer.

You joined him, cheering for your daughter as she took another step, and another, and then she reached out her little arms towards the two of you. She took the final step, before she lost total balance and fell forward.

The both of you jumped forward and embraced Peaches at once, the three of you in a tight huddle of affection as your daughter giggled against your chest. 

You peppered kisses against her forehead, tears pricking at your eyes as you lifted them to meet Lucifer’s gaze. His eyes were glistening as well, and you leaned forward to press a quick kiss to his lips, your smile large and brilliant. 

It was clear now, that your little family had grown to include another, and you were so thrilled it was Lucifer. Your ex, and the fears that came with his betrayal began to dissipate from your mind, and a tear rolled down your cheek in happiness. 

From that day on, you promised to make sure that your little girl would always have a father in her life, although it seems like you’ve already found the one who would cherish her for the rest of eternity.

“Psst, Mom!” 

You grumbled incoherently, still in the clutches of sleep as the voice rudely interrupted the nice dream you had been having in the early hours of the morning.

“Moooooommmm, wake up!”

You stirred awake at the voice hissing in your ear, your eyes fluttering open inside the dark master bedroom of the manor. Someone was standing right in front of you, a short figure tapping her foot impatiently as you lifted your head from the pillows.

The room was still covered in blackness, the morning light unable to escape through the blackout curtains blanketing the large bedroom. You could see the outline of a small figure in the shadows at the edge of your bed, illuminated by the open doorway behind her.

“What is it, baby?” You rubbed your tired eyes, turning to face your daughter.

Peaches was much older now, the name long outgrown her as she aged from toddler, to child, to girl. She resembled a nine year old now, that cute baby fat gone from her limbs, and her chubby little cheeks beginning to sharpen into gorgeous features. 

“Can I go with Charlie to the mall? She said she’ll pick me up in an hour if that’s okay.”

Charlie and your daughter had been doing everything together lately, which you guessed was because of the older woman’s joy in having a little sister she could take under her wing. They may not be related by blood, but nobody could tell the difference with the bond those two shared.

Peaches often assisted her at the now-bustling hotel, learning how to best help the inhabitants of Hell through the teachings of her sisterly figure. 

“Sure, tell Charlie I said hi,” you nodded with a smile, and your daughter bounced giddily on her toes.

“Yay! Thank you, mom!” She lowered her face down to leave a quick kiss on your cheek, wrapping her arms around your neck for a tight hug before backing away, “I Love you, see you later!”

You watched her rush out of the room with a slip in her step, the door closing softly behind her. 

“What was all that about?” A voice tiredly mumbled beside you, and warm arms snaked around your waist. 

You laid your head back against the pillow, repositioning your body to face toward the naked figure beside you.

“She just wanted to go out and have some fun with Charlie,” you replied to the tired, pearly face before you, his blonde hair disheveled around him as he blinked the sleep away with a yawn.

“Those two are like glue, nowadays,” your husband, Lucifer, yawned, pulling you flush against his bare chest in one smooth motion.

You snuggled your face into the crook of his neck, placing wet kisses across his skin, earning a pleasurable noise from his throat. 

“Should we get up and make some breakfast?” You asked into his skin.

“Five more minutes,” you heard him mutter, as he rubbed his cheek against yours affectionately.

That gives me five more minutes to think about how lucky I am to have you by my side.

“Okay,” you smiled softly, placing a loving kiss against his forehead before snuggling closer, “Five more minutes.” 

woah lots of emotions in this one, good thing everything worked out in the end, eh? the art was done by indxlulu over on twt, go check out some of their other work!

what did you think? let me know! <3

tags 🏷️

@ohnoivefallen @doodlebob2726 @coleisyn @undertale-is-sansational @nehy019 @mixplara @chewbrry @yellowsubiesdance @airwolf92 @lxkeee @jellybellyrulez @catnoirsleftnut @mbruben-stein @froggybich @moonlovers34 @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @lil-bexie @wings-of-sapphire @the-tortured-poet @enigmatic-blues @bethleeham @cherry-4200 @azullynx @luzzbuzz @for-hearthand-home @helluvapoison @th3-st4r-gur1 @concentratedconcrete @cimadreamer @marsenbie @guacam011y @maxiskindahere @purplerose291 @fictional-character-whore @0willowwisp0 @yourlocalgoldenretrieverboy @wpdarlingpan @halo-balo @chipper-chip @lvstyangel @acrazyartist @midorichoco @xoxohugslove @ivebeenthearchersstuff @indestructeible @otherthoughtsofbu

#hazbin hotel #hellaverse #lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer morningstar x mama!reader #lucifer morningstar x momma!reader

[dfortrafalgar]

Hiii! I'm so happy you are taking requests! I love the way you write, everything feels so real! I'm loving ILY and it's a bittersweet feeling now that it is ending (I'm the anon that commented early on saying that it was so relatable because I also had a miscarriage at 6 weeks). Thank you for that fic 🥰🤗

Now, my requests, if you choose to take it! I would love a jealous/protective Law X fem reader. I was thinking, no established relationship but some flirting going on, perhaps. Could be SFW or NSFW, it's up to you! I would just really loooooove some protective Law! I'm also obsessed with his hands so you can do whatever with that 😂

Did I mention that I love your writting? I did? I'll do it again. Thank you for sharing your gift! ❤️

I'm in annon but you can call me R.J. 😋😎

AAA HELLO R.J im so happy to hear from you again!!!!! no lie ive been thinking about you every day, your first message during my story was so amazingly sweet and touching and i havent been able to stop thinking about it, im so happy that you loved the end of the fic and to hear that you're doing well!!! <333

i ended up projecting a bit in this fic... and it ended up being a bit more Protective Law rather than Jealous Law, but i hope you like it all the same! i also juggled on nsfw, but decided that sfw worked better for this specific plot, so i hope that's alright!!!

thank you so much for requesting!!!! 💗❤️💓💕

Decontaminate the Heart

Law x Fem Reader

Your feelings toward Law had gone from a reasonable level of respect to a deep infatuation that you were readily keeping hidden. An unfortunate encounter with a predatory shopkeep might be what unravels your feelings... and the feelings of your captain.

Warnings: some descriptions of gross behavior from a stranger, light fluff, pre-relationship vibes, protective law but also struggling-to-accept-his-feelings awkward law

Law wasn’t fond of the word ‘jealous.’  After all, he was a seasoned veteran in the long game of Keeping All Human Emotions Bottled Up Inside So That You Don’t Show Weakness To Those Who Might Be Out To Hurt You.  He had become a pro at it, too.  After all, putting a word to an undefined emotion only validated that feeling, which was exactly the opposite of what Law needed.  Mouth constantly downturned in a pensive frown, steely, cold eyes shutting down all encounters with those he deemed unfamiliar or even the slightest bit threatening, holding even his closest friends at arm’s length on good days.  If he wasn’t the strong-willed, feared captain of the Heart Pirates, a man with a three billion beri bounty on his head, then who was he?

The answer is: a loser.  He was a loser.  Especially after he brought you on board his crew as a boatswain.  That day, he unwillingly began the downward spiral that would transform into his emotional demise.  A psychic catastrophe.  An inner turmoil of the highest degree.

Ikkaku called it infatuation.  Bepo called it love.  The rest of his raunchy, stifled male crew called it being horny.

Whatever it was, it had Law in a steel trap, never letting go.

And on a particularly warm, sunny day, docked cliffside on an island with idyllic spring weather, his steel trap was donned in a flowy sundress that complimented her entire outward appearance in a way he didn’t think was humanly possible.  When she first greeted Law before they departed the Polar Tang, she had bent down slightly, holding her hands together in front of her and pushing her biceps together just enough that her cleavage was on center stage for just a brief moment.  She had giggled at the way Law’s face flushed with a crimson hue.  Unprovoked… but not necessarily unappreciated.

Days for leisure were hard to come by as a pirate, so the crew was sure to take full advantage of the opportunities that crossed your path.  The pirates were given the freedom to roam to their heart’s content, so long as they didn’t cause trouble.  “Stress-free activities are crucial to maintaining good cardiac health,” Law would say.  But everyone knew he enjoyed some sparring days off just as much as any average bloke.

Especially when those days off were spent in your company.

“Thank you for coming with me, Captain!” you quipped, your voice cheerful as you walked beside him, a small paper bag clutched in your hand, containing a small product you had just purchased from one of the local shops.  The entire crew had shed their usual boiler suits for the day in exchange for more casual attire, you taking the opportunity to don the sundress that you had purchased a few months ago with Ikkaku.  “I’m always happy when you take days off to get out of that stuffy office of your’s.”

Law fought tooth and nail to keep the pleased smirk that twitched his lips from showing on his face.  He already needed to duel with his wandering eyes which kept itching to gaze at the way your breasts fit into the bodice of your light, flowy gown.  “Of course, it’s nice to get out sometimes.”  ‘With you,’ he added in his head before quickly balling up the thought into a crumpled mess and chucking it into a garbage pail.  The worst part about all of this, unrelated to walking side-by-side with you (which was the complete opposite of a bad thing), was the fact that he was pressured to leave Kikoku behind on the Polar Tang.  He felt naked without his sword perched on his right shoulder.

Your eyes were eagerly glancing between the storefronts that surrounded you on both sides, happy townspeople window shopping with their families and loved ones, partaking in the outdoor food markets, and spending quality time in the sun.  The domestic bliss of days like this always made your soul feel lighter, your footsteps almost floating off the ground.  A few couples passed by, their hands intertwined and souls combining with bliss, a sight that made Law’s own fingers twitch with the deep-seeded need to grasp your hand.  Every once in a while, your own fingers would tingle with the desire to reach out for him as well.

He wouldn’t hold your hand because of affection, Law told himself.  It was just to make sure other people knew you were off limits.

Was that because of affection?  Was he even entitled to such a thought?  

He stifled a frustrated groan.  “Are you looking for something?” he asked curiously, picking up on the way your gleaming eyes darted to and fro.

“There was a shop I read about in the latest paper that I could have sworn was on this island…” you muttered, bringing your free hand up to nervously stroke the skin of your cheek.  After a few more moments, your face lit up as your eyes landed on a shop tucked away between two larger markets, almost completely hidden from public view.  “Found it!”

Law’s heart almost leapt out of his throat when you subconsciously snatched his hand, yanking him out of the flow of people on the street and towards the storefront.  His stern golden eyes flashed up towards the sign above the front door.

‘WILD BILL’S PAWN SHOP’

“You read about this somewhere?” he asked, his voice revealing a level of skepticism as you stopped in front of the front door.  A dingy, beat-up ‘OPEN’ sign carved into a plank of birch wood and hanging from a rusty chain was flipped outward toward the street, beckoning townsfolk inside to peruse whatever wares were contained within the unassuming wooden shack.

You excitedly nodded.  “Yup, I was looking for places that might sell rare coins.”

Law’s breath caught in his throat.  “But you don’t collect coins.”

“I was looking for you!” you called out, flashing him a smile that could have easily put him in an early grave.  So much for being conscious of his heart health.  With the way his organ was hammering behind his sternum, he had half a mind to be worried about spontaneous cardiac arrest.

Instead of responding, all he could muster was a quiet, pensive, “Hmm.”

You finally released his hand (his palm felt so cold now), and pushed open the thin wooden door to enter the shop.  An obnoxious, ear-piercing bell chimed above the hinges, alerting any other shoppers or employees of your entrance.  Law always hated gimmicks like that, they were a pirate’s worst nightmare.  Instantly, the smell of centuries old dust and mildew flooded Law’s nose, making him suppress a sneeze into the collar of his shirt.  He was about to make a snide remark about being susceptible to allergens, but kept his lips sealed when an amused giggle emitted from your lips at the way his face contorted with mild disgust.

He blindly followed you to the back of the store, past dusty shelves containing books from all walks of life, old technology that Law had never even seen before, and antiques from across the globe.  Your expression remained one of wonder as you passed by each new item, gazing fondly at some of the more sentimental goods- boxes of old postcards, old newspapers from decades prior, wanted posters for pirates long deceased.  For such a ratty-looking establishment, the variety of wares this ‘Wild Bill’ had on hand was quite impressive.  In the very back of the store, a long glass case spanning almost the entire length of the wall was situated, separating a back room from the rest of the establishment.  There was a small space to walk around behind the case in between the wall, where small sliding doors were built in to allow someone to remove the wares kept safe inside.

Law’s eyes finally lit up in wonder.

A plethora of fine metalwork was kept in the special enclosure, jewelry with the finest minerals and perfectly sculpted details in precious velvet boxes, metal treasures surely passed down through generations of wealth, and in the nearest corner, an assortment of collectable, commemorative coins from across the world.  You smiled to yourself as Law drifted toward the coins, crouching down on his calves to more closely inspect what the shop had to offer.

He was so adorable.

“Can I help you folks with anything?” a voice from behind you asked, startling you from your affectionate daze.

A larger, older man emerged from behind one of the tall bookshelves, his hands in his pockets.  He was dressed surprisingly gaudy, a bright purple overcoat that traveled past his rump covering a sky-blue button-up shirt and a polka dot bowtie.  His belly was quite large, a curled handlebar mustache perched atop his upper lip.  He looked wildly out of place in such a modest, dusty shop.  Must be Wild Bill.

You flashed a cordial smile.  “Just looking around!”

The sound of your talking alerted Law, who stayed crouched in front of the coin collection but tossed accusatory glares over his shoulder, assessing the man’s interactions with you under an analytical gaze.  Out of instinct, as a pirate.  As a captain.  Nothing more… probably.

“Well, let me know if you need help finding anything!” the man hollered, his receding hairline making the dim light of the nearby lamps reflect off his oily skin.  He stepped behind the glass containers with a small huff and disappeared into the back room, a curtain swooping closed behind him.

With the outrageous stranger gone, Law resumed looking over the fine details of each coin housed within their own individual boxes, while you approached the other end of the glass case and examined the jewelry.

Your eyes darted excitedly between pieces.  Delicate rings with rare gemstones sat perfectly in their boxes, some dated as old as centuries ago.  A bracelet that was assembled with the finest minerals, gleaming brightly through the dim atmosphere of the shop.  As your eyes continued to dart from one object to the next, you finally found yourself entranced by one thing in particular.  It was a necklace, more of a choker than a longer-hanging piece, with a small purple amethyst mounted elegantly in the center of a silver pendant.  The complimentary silver chain seemed to be fairly heavy duty just as it was delicate enough to still be an elegant accessory.  You felt a smile pull at your lips.  You doubted you had enough beri to afford it, but you’d be damned if you couldn’t at least try it on.

Wild Bill once again appeared from behind the curtain after a few moments, placing a few items on top of the counter to be placed inside the glass enclosure.  Law watched as the old man’s gaze turned to you as you bent over, tucking your dress behind your knees to crouch down and get a closer look at the amethyst necklace.

“Anything caught your eye, missy?” Bill asked, his voice far too loud for such a small shop as he leaned over the top of the counter and gazed through the transparent surface at the pieces you were admiring.  A seemingly friendly smile adorned his pudgy face.

You enthusiastically nodded.  “Yes, actually, can I try on this necklace?”  Your finger pointed through the protective barrier toward your interest.  “The one with the small amethyst pendant.”

Law kept watching your interaction out of the corner of his eye.

“Of course, of course!” boomed Bill, bending over and sliding the door of the case open to remove the necklace, holding it by the chain in his large, burly hand.  

Without being asked, he stepped out from behind the counter and approached you from behind, unclasping the chain and looping it around your neck.  Law watched, his leg muscles tensing as you visibly stiffened at the proximity of the man as he clasped the chain together around your neck.  He pulled over a small standing mirror to have you admire the piece that sat elegantly between your collarbones.  Your fingers ghosted over the gemstone embedded in the fine silver, a small smile ghosting over your lips.

“It looks absolutely beautiful,” you whispered.

Bill stepped closer, almost pinning you from behind against the counter.  His large hands rested against the glass case, caging you in.  “It does… fitting for a beautiful woman such as yourself.”

The air went ice cold as Law watched the man’s hand wander upward, trailing across your forearm and up toward your bicep, across your shoulder and to your neck.  Your face had quickly contorted into an expression of terror, having been caged against the counter all of a sudden against your will, being caressed by this stranger.  Law felt frozen.  His brain was screaming at him to move, to do something, to get you out of this shop as soon as possible.  But he couldn’t move.  Why couldn’t he move?

“I’m sorry, I think I’m going to pass, actually,” you uttered, trying to push yourself away from him.  Your voice had quickly grown shaky, apprehensive.

“No, no, it really does suit you!” Bill murmured, his head angling downward, predatory eyes gazing over the soft skin of your neck.  The way he kept you pinned against the counter prevented you from moving away from him.  His belly was almost pushed flush against your back, making your hands tremble in fear.

“ROOM.”

A flash of blue light engulfed the surrounding area.  You immediately breathed a sigh of mild relief.  A static sensation permeated the space around you, making goosebumps rise across your skin and the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.  Just as soon as the bubble surrounded you, the predatory man was replaced with your captain standing protectively behind you, his lean hand on your shoulder to keep you steady.

Now he’d done it.

“You’re…” Bill stammered, his own hands shaking with realization.  “I’ve seen that ability, you’re… you’re…!”

Law didn’t give him time to fully realize who’s identity he was dealing with before his hand was in yours, forcefully dragging you out of the shop, harshly pushing between narrow shelves of delicate antiques until the two of you burst back out into the sunlight.  Law didn’t let up his pace, your feet barely keeping you steady as you ran.  Onlookers stepped back, shocked gasps and wide eyes following the two of you in your mad scramble back to the cliff where the submarine was kept concealed.  He just needed to get you some place secure.  Somewhere where you could wash away the phantom grime of the hands that had just touched you.

What a bad day to leave his sword behind.

The two of you had just barely made it past the outskirts of the port town when you tripped, slamming into Law’s backside and falling to your knees with a pained grunt.  The shoes you were wearing definitely weren’t built for mad sprints through a town.

“Shit…” Law grumbled, crouching down in front of you.  “Are you alright?”

Your hands were still shaking, anxiously palming the dirt and grass beneath your fingers as your lungs heaved, desperate to catch up on the oxygen you lost in your frantic sprint.  Small tears brimmed in the corners of your eyes, but you were quick to blink them away.  Your heart was pounding madly in your chest, your brain a fuzzy mess of scrambled, panicked thoughts that couldn’t make sense in any order.  Law was so close to you, so close you could almost smell the mild soap he used in the shower.  Something woody.  Mellow.  So very him.  You wanted to hug him.  The stress of the sudden incident was rapidly catching up to you.

Instead, the only thing you managed to do was blurt out an awkward, weary, “Thank you.”

Law wordlessly helped you to your feet, walking you back to the Polar Tang.  His mouth was drawn in that pensive line once more.

—

It took a few hours for you to register the fact that you had sprinted out of the pawn shop with the necklace still clasped around your neck.  When you took it off, you held it gently in your hands, gazing at the way the brilliant purple gem was nestled perfectly in the metal sculpted around it.  But the fingerprints around the chain from the predatory man who groped you left a phantom burning pain on your skin.  You still loved the piece, you truly did, and you wished you could wear it, but you felt violated.  There was no denying it.

You needed to scrub it clean.  You needed to scrub your own body clean, it seemed.

Law was in the medical bay when you carefully knocked on the door, hoping that no one was in there with him.  The tired sounding, ‘Come in,’ granted you permission to gently push the heavy hatch door open, stepping into the dim lighting and closing the entrance behind you.

Your captain was in the midst of re-organizing the entire medicine cabinet, floor to ceiling.  He did it when he was stressed.

“Yeah?” was all he asked when you entered, barely looking away from his obsessive work while you stood awkwardly in the doorway, holding your necklace in your cupped hands like it was a suspicious specimen to be brought to a lab.

“I know this is a weird request, but can you disinfect this?” you asked.

You held up the necklace by the very end of the chain, dangling it in the air away from you.  Law finally turned his attention toward you, an eyebrow raised.

“Why?”  He sounded genuinely oblivious to why you would ask for such a favor.

You rocked back and forth on your heels.  “It still feels like it has the fingerprints of that guy.  From the shop,” you clarified.  When you said it out loud, you grimaced at how childish you sounded, but at the same time, you felt your concerns, your insecurities over what had transpired, were justified.

You were violated.  Case closed.

It seemed Law picked up on that as well.  As much as he struggled to put himself in other peoples’ shoes, he could see the anxious look in your eyes that told him everything he needed to know- you wanted to wash away all traces of the man who burst your personal bubble in one of the worst ways imaginable.

Law felt a searing jealousy in his chest, the sudden reminder of the way your face contorted in utter horror as you were touched.

Your captain wordlessly stepped forward and gently took the chain from your fingers.  You watched him silently as he stepped back toward the counter, rummaging through the supplies he had laid out mid-organizing before procuring an opaque bottle of rubbing alcohol and filling a small container about halfway with the solution before submerging your necklace inside.  He capped the bottle and placed it back where he found it, amongst his other disinfectant chemicals.

“We’ll let that sit for a few minutes,” he suggested.  “In the meantime, I have these wet napkins you can use to clean your neck, if you want.”

He took the words right out of your head, as if he could read your mind.  You gratefully accepted the small container of alcohol wipes, starting with your neck and rubbing the cold solution down your collarbones, chest, and arms.  You didn’t care if it would dry out your skin later, the feeling of wiping away that man’s fingerprints in some capacity was more freeing than anything else in the world.

Law simply watched, glancing away from you every once in a while when you turned at an angle that would let you see him staring wanton daggers in your direction.  He shouldn’t be watching you scrub yourself down while fully clothed, if anything that could also be a violation of your unspoken privacy.

After what felt like hours, you finally disposed of the wipes in the nearby waste receptacle while Law fished out your necklace with a gloved hand, placing it on a dry cloth and carefully removing all the liquid from the surface of the metal.

He started speaking without thinking.  “Silver and amethyst are sturdy materials that can be placed in rubbing alcohol for disinfecting,” he stated.  “If this was some other weaker gem, like an emerald, it wouldn’t be so easy.”

You grinned, stepping closer as he polished the chain.  His hand that wasn’t gloved carefully moved along the cloth, outlining the shape of the necklace folded under it in precise, delicate motions.

Goodness, you loved his hands.

“So you’re as good with rocks and minerals as you are with health science?” you asked, a small, playful smirk on your lips.

Law’s own mouth twitched upward.  “I suppose so.”  He gently unfolded the cloth and removed the necklace.  “There, all clean.”

You grinned appreciatively, turning around and brushing away any obstacles in the way of your neck.

He stared at you from behind your back.  “... What are you doing?” he asked dumbly.

You tossed a glance over your shoulder.  “Waiting for you to put it on.”

Law chewed on the inside of his cheek.  “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you confirmed.  “I trust you.”

What you didn’t say was just how much you trusted him.  You would willingly lay down your life for your captain, the love for him, both as a person and as a pirate, greatly surpassing that of a captain and his subordinate.  Sometimes, well, most of the time, you desperately hoped that he felt the same way.

After understanding your request, Law stepped toward you slightly, one hand still gloved as he looped the necklace around the front of your neck, bringing both ends of the chain around the back to clasp at the base of your spine.  His deft, inked fingers left scorching hot trails in their wake, your skin craving his touch.  The complete opposite of your counter in the pawn shop.

Once secured, you turned around to face him, a pleased smile on your face as your fingers once again ghosted over the delicate, purple mineral embedded into the pendant.  “How does it look?”

Law prayed that the blush on his cheeks wasn’t noticeable through the dim lighting on the medical bay.  He would put necklaces on your soft skin every day if you’d let him.

Oh, how he wished you’d let him.

“It looks great…” he mumbled, his voice soft and apprehensive.  “It suits you.”

His voice, the anxious tilt of his eyebrows, spoke volumes to you as your smile grew wider.  “Hey, Law?”

He turned his attention back to you, his lips pressed firmly together.

“Thank you for protecting me back there,” you sighed.  Your voice had gone quiet, but the look on your face was indebted.

“Of course,” he whispered back.  His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, his brain clearly struggling to say the words he so desperately wanted to say.

The sight had you suppressing a giggle as you stepped forward, fighting back your reservations as you wrapped your arms around his torso in a hug, dropping your head into the crook of his shoulder and inhaling that scent that was oh-so familiar to you.  Disinfectant and oil, so clearly from living life on the Polar Tang, but also so distinctly him.

You loved it.

You were starting to come to the conclusion that you really loved him.

And with the way Law’s arms slowly wrapped around your own body, the hands you loved so much resting between your shoulder blades and the lowest point of your back, you started to wonder if he secretly, deep down in that weary heart of his, felt the same way about you.

#x reader #reader insert #fem reader #one piece x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #op x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #request fics

[magentagalaxies]

.

#i should've just gatekept scott thompson from my college bc the way my college is treating me right now is bullshit #like i don't even want to do the scott event anymore bc of how they're treating me but i kind of have to #and i know i should be grateful they're even letting me be one of the interviewers but i hate being a student so much #i hate how nobody respects my opinion or input or experience even tho i'm literally the reason scott's even doing this event #(and ESPECIALLY the reason he's willing to do it for free!!) #and it especially stings bc scott has never made me feel like my insights were worth less because i'm a student #like he's always been one of the few people who consistently treat me like we're equals even tho he doesn't have to #and the way my college is treating me. it's like they don't trust me to not be an annoying little kid #like they're just assuming scott doesn't respect me so they don't have to respect me either #i mean on the plus side i'm supposed to have another phone call with scott either today or tomorrow so i can probably explain the situation #like i don't want to make him feel negatively about my college i want him to have a good time #but this treatment is genuinely fucking with my self confidence #and also maybe i can harness scott's power to hear ''don't talk about this thing'' and immediately make the interview all about this thing #(except in this case it would be him treating me like an equal instead of a random student) #and there's a bunch of bullshit currently going on with the class i have right after the event #so even tho originally i was like ''awesome i have the perfect schedule to bring scott to all of my classes!!'' #i might just ask scott if he wants to skip class together and hang out. like i never promised that class anything #the only thing i *have* to do is the interview. the class we'd be skipping is already being like #''oh are you sure scott wants to visit the class i don't want to take him away from a better use of his time'' #and scott was genuinely excited to see what my classes were like!! even if y'all didn't treat him like a big celebrity!! #but y'know what i'm sure scott does have a better use of his time. and i do too. #i'm gonna do the interview event bc i have to (we're in too deep at this point) #and i might ask scott if he wants to talk to that freshman film class about the buddy cole doc #bc 1. they offered to pay scott for that (they can't legally pay me but that's why i made the joke about money laundering) #2. since it's about the doc it's the one class where i get to be treated like an actual person #but other than that. damn it i was excited to share this part of my life with scott but fuck that this part of my life sucks #i'm gonna have a good time with scott in boston and my college is only going to be as much a part of is as they have to be #because we ARE friends (scott said so!) and i AM a brilliant filmmaker (bruce said so!) and i DO have potential (bellini said so!) #even tho it is hard to internalize those things after how much yesterday fucked me up. but that's ok scott will call again soon

[tacticalprincess]

OMG OMG this hasn’t left my mind all week but imagine könig finally getting his hands on you and breeding you, telling you how he’s going to get you pregnant and he switched out your birth control pills for placebos!! But he’s speaking in german and you can’t understand him :(( even if you can speak german, it’s in some regional dialect and his accent is too thick!!

it’s times like this where könig is more appreciative than frustrated by your slight language barrier. in his mind, it’s not like he’s keeping his plan a secret from you. technically he is telling you, just not in a way your naive mind can understand.

it’s a win-win situation — you love how deep and husky his voice gets when he speaks german, how dehumanizing it is that he’s talking in a language he knows you can’t understand, and he gets to fill your fertile little womb with his potent seed guilt-free. you don’t suspect a thing, whining out pleads for his cum while his thick tip pierces through your squishy cervix, trying to reach deeper inside you than humanly possible to make sure it takes, your legs locking tightly around his waist. you’re only spurred on by the way he’s gritting out confessions in his mother tongue through clenched teeth, his heavy, full balls slamming against your ass in a way that’s almost painful. come on, maus, it’s like you want this just as much as he does…

he tells you he’s doing you a favor, getting rid of those nasty hormone disruptive chemicals you call ‘medicine’. there’s no reason you should be interrupting the natural way of life, especially not when you have a man so capable and willing to go through it with you. dreams of having you be the mother to his brood, watching you get full and round with his babies, ensuring his place in your life and body forever, infiltrate his mind daily, he can’t focus on anything else. which is why he’s confused about why you’re so distraught when you come to him later, complaining with glossy eyes about a late period. he can’t hide how over the moon he is, and will guilt trip you if you suggest alternative options. why would you take away his right to be a father? don’t you love him?

you’re going to be the best mama, schätzchen. don’t you think so?

#tw breeding kink #konig cod #konig x reader #konig call of duty #konig x you #konig x y/n #konig smut #könig x reader #könig call of duty #könig x you #könig smut #könig cod #bella writes⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

[multiverse-menagerie]

Perhaps could I request the bg3 companions going through Tav's sketchbook and finding that it's riddled with drawings of each companion, but especially them. Maybe it's the early stages of a romance or smthn?

I’ve been slowly spinning this around in my head, yessss

Gale

At first, Gale thinks journal is a book you’ve left for him. He’s not really one to go through your personal belongings after all. But upon opening the journal and finding swaths of drawings of your party and him, he’s thrown a little off kilter

He returns it to you immediately (read as: he fights with himself for a good ten minutes to stop looking at the sketches of himself and return the book to you) but asks you about your hobby

Listens very intently to however much you’re willing to tell him. Gale would ask, “are those me? or do you know some other roguishly handsome wizard with a penchant for fancy robes?”

He’s trying Very Hard to downplay his feelings about the whole matter. He’s not used to being the admired one…but he’s certainly not complaining

Shadowheart

As she hopes everyone will respect her need for privacy, Shadowheart strives to do the same for others. Despite many opportunities to peak at your journal, she resists and eventually asks you about it directly, but with no pressure

shy!Tav, nervously showing off the sketches and trying to gloss over how many of these drawings are of Shadowheart - after a deep breath, Shadowheart ignores the blush rising on her skin and asks about some of the other drawings

Confident!Tav, flipping through the sketches and happily showing off the images of Shadowheart especially - Shadowheart flusters, sputters out a near incomprehensible jumble of words and rushes off

Either way, the moment lives Rent Free(tm) in her head and she hopes you’ll show her the journal again

Astarion

STUNNED. like, almost drops your sketch in surprise bc wait. Holy shit. Is that him??

recovers smoothly, plays down the way his adrenaline has spiked

It does not matter how good the portraits of him are, sketches or fully finished drawings, he is Memorizing those pages

If you draw him with any soft expression, he’ll point out that image to you and be like “I think you’ve messed up on that particular reaction, dear” (that’s how he looks at you, shh don’t tell him)

Wyll

He spots you watching him one day as he’s training, your eyes flipping between him and the journal in front of you. Eventually he gives in and wanders over, inquiring about what you’re up to

when you show him the spread, sketches of him doing swordplay (and a few close headshots) - Wyll is both very impressed and very flustered

He compliments your skills, though jokingly questions the subject of your drawings. Certainly someone else would make a more attractive drawing, he says, gesturing vaguely to his mismatched eyes and newly acquired horns

Is surprised by the fierce frown you give him, the disapproval in your voice at his suggestion. You’re drawing him for a reason. Thoroughly chastised and a little embarrassed, Wyll thanks you (he doesn’t elaborate beyond that but you get the idea)

Karlach

Karlach is too afraid to touch anything that seems even vaguely flammable, but she’s seen you scribbling into your journal on many an occasion. Eventually her curiosity gets the better of her and she asks you about it

If you’re hesitant to show her, she’ll back off…but kind of pout like a little kid. Not in an attempt to make you feel bad but just bc that’s who she is. If and when you decide to show her the sketches, she’s super hyped

Jaw on the floor. She’s not got the patience or skills for drawing, not really, but your talent blows her away. And then she sees the drawings of her and she’s like - mouth open, heart eyes

jokes about how you’ve drawn her, with a huge grin on her face the whole time “how long have you been staring at my thighs to get the drawing this accurate? should I get a new outfit for your next page?”

Lae’zel

She’s never really cared much for her appearance - don’t get me wrong, she thinks she looks great but she’s never really been the one to stare at her reflection or anything

But Lae’zel sees herself in your sketches, drawings of her in softer states, in relaxation, and shes…surprised

Part of her bristles - she’s a strong warrior on a mission, she doesn’t need you seeing her as soft. But a different part of her…eases. Relaxes. You see her as an individual worth affection.

Lae’zel wouldn’t comment much about the drawings, but she would ask to sit and watch you draw, if it wouldn’t bother you. Your skilled hands, the way your brow furrows as you draw. Yes. She likes that.

Halsin

At first, Halsin is simply impressed by your talents. Artistry has always been something he’s enjoyed, no matter the form, so he’s happy to get to see your work

When he comes across the pages devoted to him, he’s thrown off a little. He’s used to being admired, if we’re being honest. As long as he’s lived and as many people he’s been with, it happens. But he’s not used to…this. Being part of the art but without any expectation of him.

Traces a finger over the lines of his face - somehow you’ve captured a look that makes him seem so…heroic. Is that how you see him? Warmth feels his chest and he goes to seek you out

You don’t get much of an answer, when you ask why he’s scooped you and paying you extra attention, nuzzling his face into your hair

#baldurs gate x reader #gale x reader #astarion x reader #karlach x reader #wyll x reader #Lae’zel x reader #halsin x reader #shadowheart x reader #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader

[pandoraslxna]

⋆｡° ✮ Specials:

Lunas Kinktober 2023

Avatar: 12 Days of Kinkmas 2023

Romancing Pandora 2024

Avatar: Mating Season 2024

— ❝ Who’s the mighty warrior? Come on, say it. ❞

⋆｡° ✮ The heat that spreads

Neteyam is more than happy to help you out when you are in heat.

⋆｡° ✮ Lost and found (mini series)

Neteyam hates humans. One day, he finds you all alone and lost in the forest, but quickly decides against killing you. What might be the odd reason for that?

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4

⋆｡° ✮ Three is always unfortunate

(Stepbro!Neteyam AU) Neteyam is ready to do everything in his might to protect his precious little sister. Especially from mean boys that can’t keep their hands to themselves.

⋆｡° ✮ Not good enough

(Stepbro!Neteyam AU) Neteyam isn’t happy about the future mate his parents have chosen for you. Afterall, no one can compare to him.

⋆｡° ✮ Work of art

You’re an artist and Neteyam accidentally finds your secret notebook, full of filthy drawings you’ve made to cope with the little crush you had on him.

⋆｡° ✮ Special friends (mini series)

Neteyam was so used to being the golden child of his family, always doing as he’s told… he wanted to be bad sometimes too. He wanted to be the one that would teach you all these filthy things. All the things you were never allowed to do, talk or even think about.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5

⋆｡° ✮ Competitive hate

When you compete, it’s always a battle to see who will get the upper hand. And when you fuck, it’s the same struggle.

⋆｡° ✮ Drunk words, sober secrets

Getting drunk with Ao‘nung was probably not the best idea you ever had. Good thing a certain someone always makes sure you‘ll get home safe and sound.

⋆｡° ✮ Infected

(Stepbro!Neteyam AU) While on a hunt with your stepbrother Neteyam, he comes in contact with something that makes him act… strange.

⋆｡° ✮ A lesson on concentration

(featuring Neytan) Lately, you can’t seem to focus on any of your training lessons in preparation for your upcoming iknimaya and your karyu [teacher] are determined to find out why.

⋆｡° ✮ Unwinding together

Neteyam seems quite tense lately, and like the good friend that you are, you offer him a way to relief all of his stress.

⋆｡° ✮ Feral hearts

There is always a thrill to the chase.

⋆｡° ✮ Sweet dreams

(Stepbro!Neteyam AU) It’s date night, the marui is quiet and Neteyam has you all to himself.

⋆｡° ✮ A mighty warriors need

The only trouble Neteyam allows himself to get into, is you.

⋆｡° ✮ Drabbles:

Neteyam loves when you wear short dresses

Some sneaky under the table action

Dom!Neteyam edging himself

How he would celebrate your birthday

Discovering that the word "sir" turns him on

He makes you squirt for the first time

Neteyam learns what a lollipop is

Stepbro!Neteyam + cockwarming

Distracting him when he’s grumpy

Possessive / toxic Neteyam

Public make out session with Neteyam while your mate is busy looking for you

Free use kink

Forming an alliance with So‘lek

— ❝ Sorry, I don’t speak english to assholes. ❞

⋆｡° ✮ Bittersweet revenge

Ever since the day Lo‘ak had found out that you’ve chosen to rescue your father, the man that basically murdered Neteyam and made his whole life hell, he was out for revenge.

⋆｡° ✮ Movie night

(Stepbro!Lo’ak AU) Lo’ak can’t keep his hands to himself. Not even during movie night.

⋆｡° ✮ Sharing is caring

(featuring Spider) Sometimes, all you need is a good friend who is willing to share.

⋆｡° ✮ The Fall

It was like falling off a cliff. A slow, steady fall and then the blinding crash. But in reality, a fall would’ve hurt less. Less than this.

⋆｡° ✮ Close ain’t close enough

Even though your relationship was still fairly new, you couldn’t stop overthinking how certain things could even work out, between a human and a Na‘vi.

⋆｡° ✮ Want, get, have.

Lo‘ak takes advantage of the little crush he knows the olo’eyktan’s spoiled daughter habors for him. That is, until you finally decide to get payback for all his teasing.

⋆｡° ✮ Addicted to you

The first time it happened, could be considered an accident. He didn’t mean to come over and steal your underwear, stuff it in his tweng and take it with him, like a dirty little secret. The second time however, was less an accident and more a strategic planned theft.

⋆｡° ✮ Drabbles:

Sub!Lo‘ak

Edging Sub!Lo‘ak

Edging till he’s crying

He makes you sit on his face

Free use kink

— ❝ The most dangerous thing about pandora is that you may grow to love her too much. ❞

⋆｡° ✮ Polar opposite

(featuring Tonowari) There’s no plot. Just two dilfs working together.

⋆｡° ✮ Stress relief

(featuring Tonowari) After a whole day spent on an unsuccessful hunt, the two olo’eyktan’s return to their home frustrated and stressed. But thankfully, their favorite little stress relief toy is already happily waiting for them.

⋆｡° ✮ Double trouble

(featuring Miles Quaritch) The Colonel had send you on a mission to get information out of Jake Sully, but things take a different turn than what you were expecting. Not that you mind.

⋆｡° ✮ Pent up and stressed out

Jake knows just the way to help you relief some of that pent up frustration.

⋆｡° ✮ Drabbles:

Jake makes some interesting discoveries about his new avatar body

Tits or ass?

Jake fucking loves your boobs. He loves fucking them too

Marking you as his

— ❝ I’ll be nice once. Then I won’t. ❞

⋆｡° ✮ Sinner and saint

Quaritch has captured you, the oldest daughter of Jake Sully, and made it his personal goal to draw every bit of useful information out of you.

⋆｡° ✮ Listen to me

The cute newbie of his squad enjoys late night activities way too much, keeping Miles up every single night since she moved into the quarters next to his room.

⋆｡° ✮ Helping hands

Quaritch has to escort one of the most annoying scientists he’s ever met, into the depth of pandoras forest, just so she can study some weird looking plants. Surely, it couldn’t get worse than that, right?

⋆｡° ✮ Double trouble

(featuring Jake Sully) The Colonel had send you on a mission to get information out of Jake Sully, but things take a different turn than what you were expecting. Not that you mind.

⋆｡° ✮ Sweet like cherry (mini series)

Miles has a secret admirer and apparently, she has a thing for photography.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6

⋆｡° ✮ Classified briefing

Briefings can be so boring. Luckily, Quaritch has his favorite little lap warmer with him to make to whole thing so much more entertaining.

⋆｡° ✮ Drabbles:

Quaritch loves your ass

How does he eat pussy?

Thigh riding

Corrupting you and then turning you into his little cum dump

— ❝ If you want to live here, you have to ride. ❞

⋆｡° ✮ My dearly detested

Ao‘nung has had enough of that smart little mouth of yours.

⋆｡° ✮ Mine to tease

It’s one thing when Ao’nung bullies you. It’s a complete different thing when someone else dares to lay their hands on you.

⋆｡° ✮ Under control

(Stepbro!Ao’nung AU) Ao‘nung really thought that he could restrain himself when it came to you. But of course you had to test his self control and challenge him in the worst way possible…

⋆｡° ✮ Too close to the sun

(Featuring Neteyam) Ao’nung loved you as Icarus loved the sun- too close, too much.

⋆｡° ✮ Ruin me

Ao‘nung thinks he’s no match to any human males and could easily ruin you for all of your kind. Oh, was he wrong about that.

⋆｡° ✮ Drabbles:

He‘s a sloppy pussy eater

Mean, bratty Ao‘nun turns into a begging mess for you

— ❝ Sit down. ❞

⋆｡° ✮ Polar opposite

(featuring Jake Sully) There’s no plot. Just two dilfs working together.

⋆｡° ✮ Stress relief

(featuring Jake Sully) After a whole day spent on an unsuccessful hunt, the two olo’eyktan’s return to their home frustrated and stressed. But thankfully, their favorite little stress relief toy is already happily waiting for them.

⋆｡° ✮ Drabbles:

Cuddles & sex

Sub!Tonowari + size kink

— ❝ You can’t put babies in cryo, dipshit. ❞

⋆｡° ✮ Sharing is caring

(featuring Lo‘ak) Sometimes, all you need is a good friend who is willing to share.

⋆｡° ✮ The Na‘vi way

To walk, eat, talk and even think like a Na‘vi, that was one thing. But to dress like one? That was a whole new level of commitment just to get this job done.

— ❝ Let’s go, buttercup. ❞

⋆｡° ✮ coming soon!

Teylan:

— ❝ Tinkering with junk is easier than people. People are complicated. ❞

⋆｡° ✮ coming soon!

So‘lek:

— ❝ They were looking for you. They found me. ❞

⋆｡° ✮ Drabbles:

Forming an alliance with Neteyam

Eetu:

— ❝ Call for her! Call for your Ikran! ❞

⋆｡° ✮ coming soon!

#masterlist

[wttcsms]

diesel is desire (we were playing with fire) ; sebastian sallow

pairing sebastian sallow x f!reader word count 4k synopsis sebastian sallow is a good friend. so good, in fact, that when you find yourself under the ungodly influence of a lust potion, he's willing to help give you some relief. content contains seventh year au, dubcon (under the influence of lust potion), darker take on seb's character lol <3, breeding kink, creampie, possessive!sebastian, possessive sex, virginity loss, babytrapping

“Why did you go out of your way to avoid me?” 

An accusatory voice momentarily breaks you free from the overwhelming feelings you were struggling to deal with, but the voice is too familiar.

The source? Sebastian Sallow — a very disappointed Sebastian Sallow, which after two years of friendship (and the lingering what-if of becoming something more), you’re able to identify as a Sebastian that you would much rather not be dealing with. Particularly because, try as hard as he might, he’s rather prone to saying harsh things and treating you unkindly whenever he gets into one of his moods. The hurt expression on his face is barely concealed by the scowl that mars his otherwise handsome features. 

Don’t think about how handsome he is!

Instead of replying to him, you’re quick to turn your head to the side, trying to focus on the curtain that separates your cot from the others in the infirmary. It’ll do no good to engage with Sebastian right now — not whenever the reason you’ve been compelled to check yourself in to the school nurse is purely because you’re not sure if you have enough self-control to stop yourself from literally ripping his robes off of him.

But it’s not like you can tell him all that. Lying would be preferable, if only Sebastian wasn’t so attuned to you and every single one of your tells. If you attempted lying to him, who knows what more damage you would cause? Then again, blatantly ignoring him also seems equally dangerous, especially with how quick to irritate he’s been lately. Ever since you witnessed him literally murdering his uncle, the relationship between the two of you has grown stronger — being practically partners in crime will do that to a friendship — but also more… volatile. The charming fifth-year you met on your first day of school still remains, but you have long since realized that there’s more to him than meets the eye.

On the surface, he’s nothing but affable. Maybe a bit of a rebellious streak, but it’s all in good nature. In the beginning, it was fun being with him. Exciting, even. Then you started following him on the dark path he paved all by himself, and before you could realize that you were in too deep, it had already been too late to turn around. Now, the seventh-year boy standing by your cot seems so different from the one who lives on only in your memories.

“Don’t ignore me.” He means to make the words come out sharp, irritated. It resembles more of a plea than anything, and you shut your eyes, willing him to leave. It must be all in your head, but you swear you can smell the familiar scent of him: cool mint mixed with the light musk of whatever cologne he’s been favoring since the fifth year. 

“Sebastian, I’m not feeling very well.” You mumble, hoping it’ll be enough to get him to leave you alone. It’s not a lie. You aren’t feeling great whatsoever. Not even the nurse, bless her heart, can figure out what’s become of you. She gave you a pitying look and an almost amused smile as she explained that — in her words — sexual urges are very normal for girls your age. 

If your body wasn’t already overheating, you’re certain your cheeks would have instantly turned hot from sheer embarrassment. 

“Well, why wouldn’t you tell me that instead of abandoning me the whole entire day?” Sebastian is many things with different people. With you, he is both guarded and vulnerable. Some days, when you’re not feeling your best, his emotions versus his actions can give you whiplash. He has the audacity to say something like that all the while, he sounds absolutely tortured over the fact that he had to go eight hours without your presence. 

As if realizing the harshness of his attitude, he softens his tone as he asks, “Are you feeling any better?”

You had gone to the Great Hall before him because you needed to review your History of Magic notes before the test today. All you had was a bit of pumpkin juice and toast, and all had been well until you started feeling warm underneath your robes and sweater. As the heat began to travel through your body, you found it hard to concentrate on your notes. Not because of the heat, but because of the many thoughts swirling around in your head. Flashes of Sebastian that started innocently enough and quickly morphed into daydreams of him without his uniform. Sebastian with his hair messed up from the way your fingers tugged at the strands as he satiated his thirst with the juices flooding between your legs. Sebastian who would prioritize your pleasure over his and could make you cum multiple times before even thinking about getting his dick wet. Sebastian—

—who you share most of your classes with! 

You knew right then and there that something had to be wrong with you. Sure, you’ve thought about him sometimes, but never to that degree. And certainly never at seven in the morning over breakfast and history notes. 

That’s how you ended up lying in a cot in the infirmary, trying your hardest to ignore the intrusive thoughts of Sebastian fucking you ‘til you can’t walk anymore. 

“No.” You practically moan out the word, and you’re hoping to play it off as just you being a baby about being “sick”. 

You don’t expect him to turn your head so that you’re staring up at the ceiling, and you certainly don’t expect him to press the back of his hand against your forehead. His hands are cold, but surprisingly enough, it brings you some sort of relief from the fever that has seemingly overtaken your body. You bite back another moan. 

“You’re burning up.” Gone is his attitude. Instead, it’s been replaced by your favorite Sebastian — the kind, caring one. The one that resembles the boy you first met. Sometimes, his care can be suffocating, but when you find yourself craving nothing but him and his touch, you don’t mind his invasion of your personal space at all. “Are there any other side effects? Does your throat hurt? Stomach? Tell me what’s the matter.” 

You know how Sebastian must feel when it comes to people he cares about falling ill. His sister has only made him more paranoid about the severity of sickness and curses, and the concern and fear etched upon his face makes your hardened resolve of keeping the sordid details of your affliction to yourself melt away.

“Don’t laugh…” You warn him, but your voice seems so small and maybe even a little scared that his expression turns even more serious.

“Never.”

“I think… I think something happened to me. A charm…” You’re careful to dance around the word curse, lest Sebastian accidentally blows up the whole entire infirmary due to his emotional state. “I just feel very hot. And, um, I think the only relief would be to—”

You can’t even say it. You can barely even explain it since you don’t really know what’s happening either. 

“I’mfeelingverysexuallyfrustratedandIhavenomeansofrelief!” 

The two of you know that you’re never going to repeat that phrase ever again, and you’re practically near tears after that little confession. 

“Oh.” He says, as if this is nothing more than a simple, casual conversation and not the most humiliating situation ever. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” 

“Be-because it’s embarrassing!” Has he really no shame? Who would willingly admit that out loud? 

“You know, I’ve heard rumors of some sixth-years trying to pull pranks by spiking the juices with love potions. Just really gimmicky concoctions, truly. Nothing too severe. Hmm… You must have a sensitivity to it, though.” Sebastian’s musings do nothing to bring you reassurance. If anything, it just makes you want to hide. If the universe is truly kind, a sinkhole will emerge from nowhere and swallow you whole. Yes, that sounds lovely right now. 

Instead, the universe is sick, because what else could explain Sebastian telling you, 

“If it’s relief you need, I’d be happy to help.” 

Sebastian is many things to you — a dear friend, a confidant, a literal partner in crime — but none of those things involve him having sex with you, even if the offer only came from some odd sense of duty. 

And that’s what this is, isn’t it? He probably feels indebted to you since the fifth-year. Maybe even anxious, too. You could expose him at any given moment, and maybe that’s why he’s been so keen on attaching himself to your side ever since. This is a humiliating predicament to be in, and Sebastian doesn’t seem like the type to kiss and tell — considering that you don’t even know the names of girls he’s been with before is evidence. 

Besides, you’re only feeling incredibly needy for one person. You can accept his offer, but you’re certainly not going to let him know the truth: that only he is the one who can help you. 

“Don’t be embarrassed.” His cool hand is now cupping your face, thumb brushing against your cheekbone in an almost gentle manner. Sweet Sebastian is making an appearance, perhaps to try to put you at ease. You like this Sebastian. “Just let me take care of you.” 

When the haze of lust clears from your sex-addled mind, the rush of consequences will burden and crush your very conscience. 

Fortunatenly enough, consequences are clearly the last thing on your mind.

It would appear that the only thing you can truly focus on is Sebastian and what his idea of ‘taking care of you’ is. 

The Sebastian staring greedily at you is an unfamiliar Sebastian. You’ve become accustomed to the many variations of himself: Angry Sebastian, who says the most vile things out of spite and usually misguided anger; Remorseful Sebastian, who is quick to grovel (he’s quite good at groveling, really) and wants nothing more than to be back in your good graces; Happy Sebastian, although there are variations upon this very variation — the trick to seeing whether he’s pseudo-happy or not is all in his smile (the fake one is eerily perfect, the real one is crooked and a rarity). This Sebastian, though…

Hungry. 

The word doesn’t quite explain the dark glint in his eyes or the way his hands are almost reverently stroking your body. Your skin felt so, so hot just a few minutes ago — then again, just a few minutes ago, you still had your school jumper and blouse neatly intact. Now, you’re laid practically bare, prey to Sebastian’s more-than predatory gaze. 

If the two of you weren’t such great friends, you might have had enough sense to be scared.

The only articles of clothing left to protect your dignity and shield you from his eyes are your skirt (which is already riding up to expose your thighs due to his wandering hands), your white cotton panties, and the matching bra. 

“How do you feel now?” He asks, and you want to tell him you’re still feeling embarrassed, but his hands feel surprisingly nice on your skin, and you can’t help but hunger for more. Perhaps the look in his eyes, the one you couldn’t quite find a proper name for, is the same look you’re giving him. 

“More.” You whimper out, not caring if you sound selfish or impatient. This is awful. The two of you should put a stop to… To whatever the hell this is! This is a horribly unbecoming, unsavory situation you are in, and if things progress like how you think they are going to (how you want them to), then you’re both dead once all the adults find out. Professor Weasley would probably force the two of you to be wedded within the next day of her finding out, not to mention that the headmaster would probably have the both of your heads on sticks.

But you don’t tell him to stop because your rational thought is slipping, much like your bra. You’re viewing everything almost as if in a trance, almost as if this is happening to someone else and not you. But it is very much you; it’s your nipples hardening after being exposed to the cool air of the infirmary. It’s your bra that Sebastian tosses to the side. He’s licking his lips, eyeing the expanse of skin that has been revealed to him. In ordinary circumstances, you’re certain you would make all attempts to cover yourself up and try to regain some sense of modesty.

In these circumstances, you practically arch your back and mewl out for more, more, more.

More touching. More skin-to-skin contact. More of Sebastian. You want him. All of him. Every part of him. You want his cock ramming into your cunt, you want his hands wrapped around your throat, his mouth spewing out words of filth right into your ear. Most importantly, even though all you can seemingly focus on is having him ravish you, you can’t help but to be greedy and dare to hunger for more. You want his secrets — all of them. You want to know the nightmares that plague him, and whether he’s full of regrets, just like you. You want to have a claim to his soul, just like how he already has a claim to yours. You want to know that when his heart beats, it is calling out for you. 

“I’m going to kiss you now.” He announces, like he’s waiting for you to protest. He’s not directly asking, but the question is still there, as is the warning. Can I kiss you? If you let me, there’s no going back. 

“Please.” You whimper, completely and entirely at his mercy.

“Say it.” Sebastian swallows hard, almost as if he’s also nervous and too charged up with desire. His fingers are loosening his tie. He has already shrugged off his robes. 

He doesn’t tell you want to say, but you already know what he wants to hear. The words have been resting on the tip of your tongue this whole entire time, anyway. 

“I want you to— to kiss me, and more…” You look into his eyes. The lights in the infirmary make them appear a lighter color than usual. “I want more. I want you, Sebastian.”

The moment the last confession slips from your soft lips, Sebastian’s mouth descends upon your own. His body is angled awkwardly, trying not to crush you with his weight, but you can feel the heat emanating from him all the same, even despite the layers of his clothing that separates the two of you. 

You think the world stops spinning when his lips slot against yours. He tastes like the pumpkin juice from this morning, sweet and refreshing. There’s a lingering taste of spearmint toothpaste. You want to keep kissing him forever. You want him to kiss you everywhere else. When breathing becomes a necessary thing, he stops. You frown. You didn’t want him to stop. Oxygen is overrated, anyway. 

He lays a hand against the pillow you’re resting on, staring down at you, want clearly displayed on his visage; desire is etched onto every facial feature, and his eyes are gazing so intently into yours, you wonder if he’s a Legilimens. 

“Promise me you won’t regret this. Swear that you truly do want this.” 

He must not be a Legilimens, then. It’s so clear you’ve been in… It feels odd to admit it. Wrong, even. But it’s the truth—

—you’ve been in love with him since the fifth year.

You don’t keep someone’s secrets, their crimes, to yourself when you don’t love them. You let him perform Cruciatus on you, and you forgave him. No — you didn’t. Because you asked him to. There was nothing to forgive. You would endure it, over and over and over again, just for him, only him. And to think, you’re flooding your panties just at some simple fantasies of him, and he has the nerve to believe you don’t want this? Don’t want him?

“I promise. I swear it to you. I want this entirely.” And maybe liquid courage had been slipped into the juice you’ve consumed as well because you find yourself admitting, “I’ve always wanted to do this with you. If it… If it had to be done the first time around, I would always dream of you doing it to me.” 

He stops breathing, just for a moment. Gapes at you, even. 

“Y-you’re a virgin?” 

You wonder if you’ve gone off and ruined the mood. You wonder if you should take it back, say you were just joking, but before you can, his lips are pressing against yours once again. This kiss is even hungrier than the last, and you’re not quite sure how that’s even possible. It’s almost as if he wants to devour you whole. 

“Thank you.” He gasps out, so close to you that his breath tickles your nose. “Thank you for entrusting me with this, love. I promise I’ll make it good for you, just as you deserve.” 

And suddenly Sebastian is just everywhere. His sweater is discarded on the floor, right next to your bra and his tie. His belt is unclasped; he hasn’t even bothered to remove it entirely, just displaced it enough to where he can unbutton his trousers, and he’s pulling it down — his pants, that is. And the briefs. He hasn’t entirely disposed of everything, just partially. Meticulous Sebastian Sallow who is now so far gone into lust and depravity that he cannot even handle wasting another second by removing himself entirely of his clothes. You have made a man into a beast.

But you see the way he’s eyeing you — all dark hair and sharp teeth. He flips your skirt up, exposing your damp panties to him, and he licks his lips again, and you realize — perhaps too late, or perhaps you’ve known all this time — that Sebastian has always been a bit of a beast. A wolf only coyly imitating domesticity. 

“You’re so wet.” He brushes a finger against your cotton-covered folds, and you shiver. 

Yes! Your body seems to cry out. More, more, more! Your back arches, keening, craving his touch. You’re soaking through the fabric, making it practically translucent. You’ve never been this wet before in your life. You’ve never wanted his touch more badly than you do now. 

“For me.” He mutters, but in the silence of the infirmary, you hear him all too clearly. “Is this all for me, love? Have you been like this all day?”

You nod, not trusting yourself to form coherent sentences. Even if he’s not staring at your head, far too fixated at what’s between your legs, he hums his approval. 

“Don’t worry, my love. I’ll make it all better.” 

He’s kissing you. He’s got your panties only pulled to one side, and you think he’s muttering apologies against your saliva-coated lips. Something that sounds awfully like sorry, so sorry, but I can’t wait, and I don’t think you can, either. You barely catch a glimpse of his cock before you can feel the sharp heat of his length against your inner thigh. You would have thought that there would be some preparation, especially since this will be your first, but you’re thoroughly soaked. You’re aching for a sensation you have never felt before, but the animal inside of your brain is telling you, instinctually, to seek Sebastian out. That Sebastian will make it all better. That’s what he said he’ll do, and he’s kissing you, and he’s apologizing, and—

—and the world stops spinning.

No. There’s some slight resistance at first, your poor cunt protesting at the intrusion. A second later, and he’s slipping in half of his length with considerably more ease. A few inches more, and his hips are pressed against yours, and oh— Oh, it’s like you’re made for him. There is no resistance. There is no pain. There’s just you and him, and your body is welcoming him home. Where has he been? It seems to ask. Please don’t ever leave again. 

“Fuuuuck.” He hisses it out, and his teeth are gritted, and he’s admiring you. His eyes flicker to your face, down to your breasts, down down down right to where the two of you are connected. The word comes out broken, and yet, drawn out. As if he’s struggling to speak. 

Then he starts thrusting, and suddenly you realize that the world hasn’t ceased its spinning. No — now it’s moving entirely too fast. It must be off its axis. You feel otherworldly. You feel like this pleasure, this overwhelming, absolutely delicious pleasure, cannot simply exist on earth. It should be impossible. It should be impossible to find comfort and rapture in the way the tip of his cock seemingly kisses your cervix. You expect pain. 

You only find mindnumbing, earth shattering pleasure.

You feel stretched beyond your limits. You hear his pants and his groans, and you’re moaning, too. Calling out his name, which is so silly, he’s right there, he’s right there. There, at that special spot, at the spot you’ve never been able to discover on your own. You now know why adults advise so heavily against these type of relations — it’s simply addicting. You don’t think you can stop; you don’t think you want to stop.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck, you’re so good f’me. Such a good girl. My good girl, aren’t you?” He’s rambling. His thrusts are considerably sloppier, and you feel his thumb brush against your clit, and you arch your back some more, practically screaming out his name. The stimulation is too much — it’s not enough — and you will always crave him. “Tell me. Tell me that you’re mine.”

There’s something so, so addicting about his possession. About being treated like his possession. 

“Yours. M’yours, Seb. All—” You can’t finish your sentence. The pleasure is becoming too much, and you’re too sensitive, and he’s doing this thing, this absolutely amazing thing, where he rubs circles on your clit in tandem with his harsh thrusts, and you’re cumming. You don’t ever want to come down. 

He feels you cum, sees your juices drench his cock as he pulls out, only to push right back in, relishing in the feeling of your contracting walls. He leans down, biting on your neck, and you take a hand to grip his dark hair, still cumming, and now he is, too. Spurts of his cum are flooding into you, painting your walls, successfully staking his unrivaled claim on you. You have been compromised. If anyone were to find the two of you out, you would have no other choice but to take his hand, his ring, his family name, him. You would have to take it all.

Coming down from his high, he has enough kindness left in him to lick at the wound he’s left on your neck. Your eyes are fluttering close, the intensity of it all thoroughly exhausting you. You don’t know the thoughts swirling in his mind. You don’t sense the longing behind him stroking your stomach, wondering if the Felix Felicis — his bottled Liquid Luck he’s spent forever brewing — has done its job. It would surely be very lucky, indeed, if his seed takes this first time around. 

Your breathing slows, and he feels your heartbeat even out. You’re exhausted, poor thing. Perhaps he had been too rough.

He’ll apologize, he decides, by doing something that’ll benefit the both of you. He ought to clean you up, get you tucked in, and when you wake, he’ll go down on you. He bets you taste so sweet, so innocent. He had known, of course, that he was your first — that he was always going to be your first. Your only. 

He wonders if the effects of the lust potion will still linger in your system even after you wake up. Probably so — he did it brew it quite strongly.

But the adoration, the love, in your eyes is something no amount of skilled potioneering can create. No; your feelings for him are real. You just needed to lower your inhibitions to get to the confessional stage.

And now that you have confessed… 

Sebastian Sallow can rest well after confirming what he’s known ever since he first laid eyes on you:

You’re his.

#sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #smut #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow smut #one shot #lemon

[3cremepie3]

The creamery pt 1.

Synopsis - Where or would the Twst boys would cream in/on you? Feat. Scarabia

Warnings - cremepies, unprotected sex, facials, possessiveness, breeding kinks, mentions of pregnancy, dollifaction, degradation

A/n - a quick series while I figure out he future of this blog.

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Jamil would cream on you for sure. He loved painting your face after a praise session. The many “good boys,” and “you’re doing so good baby,” went straight to his already throbbing cock. You had a way with words which sent the man of few words crazy.

He buckled into your tight grip not able to contain himself. “Fuck feels so god damn,” he spewed. His curses fell on to deaf ears. Which is what he loved about you. You would take anything he gave you while still being the loving obedient doll you were.

“Do you feel good,” you teased. Of course, you already knew the answer but you needed to hear it from him. “Don’t ask me stupid questions bitch just keep pumping me,” he demanded. “Yes sir,” you chirped. You licked your lips at his angry expression not having a care in the world.

Your free hand went to feel up on his abs made by his years of dancing. How’d you score a guy like him you’d wonder. While he thought the same as he groaned loudly enough to fill the hallway nearby. “How’d I get a slut so willing to let me paint her face?” Must’ve been a miracle,” you answered tongue open awaiting his seed.

You snuck even further down on your knees so he could shoot at you more easily. Your grip faltered on his hard cock letting it bob itself up and down into an orgasm. “That’s right better not swallow it either.” I’m not,” you spoke with your tongue out.

He watched fascinated as your features were painted in his seed. His breathing calmed but his cock never did still hard and leaking at his claiming of you.

Kalim would cream inside of you. The king of irresponsibility why would he ever remember to bring a condom? And even if he did why would he use one? He's an Al Asim a family of a practically breeding farm. He could always add to that with you.

He had enough money to keep a family afloat and you were truly in love. But fuck all those fake reasons the true reason was that he loved creamepie’ing you. The feeling of your pussy gripping down on him as his cum drowned your wound was one he would never recover from.

Especially when you would call out to him so sweetly. “Kalim!” You would exclaim back arching into his sweaty body. He would grab your waist pushing you even further into him. Your lips would crash into his needing something to grab onto since he was pushing your body up. You would take his breath away until he collapsed on top of you.

“Sorry love you just felt too good,” he would smile into the crook of your neck. It was already late since he came in you so you guys would go on and on fucking late into the night until Jamil banged on his door telling you to sleep.

#heartland #anime smut #twst wonderland #twst mc #twst x reader #twst smut #twst headcanons #disney twst #twisted wonder smut #twisted wonderland fan fic #twst kalim #kalim al asim #jamil smut #jamil x y/n #jamil x yuu #jamil viper smut #kalim x reader #scarabia #twst yuu #twisted wonderland fandom #twisted wonderland smut

[strbymacaroon]

Silent Love: Ch. 1 - New Roommate(s)

⊹ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ Chapter One

Master-List: Here!

Read on Ao3: Here!

.・゜゜・ ｡･ﾟﾟ･ ╰┈➤ Sukuna x Reader

⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙ Sypnosis:

When moving out of your dorm and leaving your eccentric roommate goes to shit, you're offered by one of her friends to move in with him... for free! That is, if you don't mind living with two completely opposite college boys.

However, life isn't that easy, and there's a hot asshole around the corner to piss you off. Especially when he's always up late at night when you're studying, purposely trying to get on your nerves in the most perverse way possible.

You hate him.

⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙ Genre:

College/Modern World AU. Multiple parts.

Shameless Smut, Thin Walls, Mildly Dubious Consent, Roommates Fluff and Crack, Slice of Life, Kinda Slow Burn, Oral Sex Vaginal Sex, Slight Age Difference, Degradation Fake/Pretend Relationship, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Enemies to Lovers, Spit Kink, Angst, Hurt/Comfort.

⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙ Word Count: 14,003

･ ｡ﾟ☆:  *･ November 13th, 2023 ☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Monday

“He was so big.” Nobara shivers, a small smile gracing her lips. “I know he was totally texting other girls behind my back and shit, but that dick was dicking.” She points aggressively at nothing, merely trying to make her point stronger. 

“Ew. Can you not tell me that right now? I’m eating.” You turn away from her, twisting your fork in your noodles, “I was gone for a week, and this is what you do in my absence. You should be ashamed of yourself.” You take a bit of your food, but immediately follow it with a sip of your Sprite. Adding a cough with a very suspicious word that rhymes with shut. 

Nobara playfully glares at you, “No girl, you signed up for this when we became friends, you need to know.” Nobara leans her head down on the table, biting her bottom lip. “I’m telling you, I miss my stink-stink.” She pulls out her phone, “Maybe I should text him…” 

“I don’t want to hear you crying about him anymore.” You scold, pointing your fork at her accusingly, “I can’t deal with your sobbing when I’m trying to go to bed because he broke your heart again.” It’s the reason you're moving out, actually. 

That's being mean, it isn’t the reason why you’re moving out. But, it definitely is one of them. 

A playful smirk slowly builds on Nobara's face, “It won’t be my emotions I'm crying over.” She laughs as you roll your eyes. 

“Okay, that’s enough for brunch today.” You shut your Panda Express box closed, “Call me when you're no longer in heat so you can help me pack.” You grab your tote-bag, slinging it over your shoulders. 

Nobara pouts, “Awh. I can’t believe you’re leaving me already.” She pushes herself away from the table, trailing behind you. “I mean, I’m not stopping you, but who would want to leave me?” 

Obviously you do. 

“Are you moving in with your parents in the meantime?” Nobara asks, tilting her head at you. 

You shake your head, “No, I already have an apartment contract. Rooming with this random girl who goes to a different school.” You sigh, “It’s a bit far for my comfort, but the view to the city is gorgeous. Couldn’t pass it up.” You’re going to have to deal with taking public transportation from now on, but that’s a new risk you’re willing to take. 

“Yeah, my new roommate is moving in on Monday.” Nobara sighs, “I don’t even know her name yet…” 

“That can be a good thing, maybe you’ll make a new friend to tell you sex stories to.” You smile at her kindly. 

“No, I swear if you cut me off after you move out I’ll go and kill you myself.” Nobara accuses, a finger pointing at you scoldingly. “You have to have lunch with me everyday now that I can’t see you.” 

You may be mean, but you’re not that mean. “Of course not, I would never leave you. I wouldn’t give up your answers for Anatomy and Physiology.” You tap her nose, grabbing her hand and pulling her next to you. “Also your wallet for amazing food.”

“Good to know all I’m good for is homework answers and food.” Nobara groans, yet tightens her hand around yours nonetheless. “Next time I swear I’m going to let you figure things out on your own. No more puppy eyes when you don’t want to do the homework, or when you’re hungry.” 

“That could be a good thing. Except the food part.” You mutter, an amused smile slowly building on your lips. “I’m sure my future patients will appreciate me learning the curriculum rather than copying someone else.” 

“Agreed.” She leans her head on your shoulder, hugging your arm. “Hopefully you’ll be able to pass the final without me. I don’t know if I’ll be able to pass life without you.” 

You lean your head atop of her’s, sighing softly. “You’ll be okay, next thing you know your next roommate is going to be reenacting you when you tell her your sex stories.” Sure, Nobara is a hard person to get along with and can be quite brash, but you still enjoy her friendship nonetheless. 

Nobara pauses for a moment in thought, “Wait? Do you want me to call my friends? They can also help you pack.” She smiles wickedly, “We can make them do the heavy stuff because we’re just..” She dramatically places the back of her hand to her forehead, “Weak little fraile women who can’t do anything without the fear of breaking a nail.”

You look at your nails, seeing that they were freshly done, a cute white set with small jews sparkling in the sun. “That is a genuine concern of mine, though.” You lower your hand again, being careful not to snag it on your bag. 

“Even better.” Nobara smiles, tearing her hand away from you and pulling out her phone to open her messages. “Here, I’ll call them and ask for help.” She clicks someone’s contact before you can even answer. 

“No, please don’t.” You tell her, watching as her finger hovers over the call button. “I don’t even know these people and I’m asking them to do stuff for me, that’s going to make me feel bad.” You press your lips together, “Maybe if they were my friends… but it’s okay, I’ll have everything done.” 

Nobara waves you off, “Nonsense, it’s not like they have anything better to do.” She laughs, “Hell, they’re probably just laying around waiting for me to call them to give them something to do.” Her finger presses the call button, you immediately cringe. 

The phone rings once, before the line is picked up. Nobara looks to the side, “You busy?” You can’t hear the other side, but she smiles and quickly adds, “No you’re not, stop being like that. Come help me pack after class.” She ends the call, shoving the phone into her back pocket.

“I hope they don’t come.” You whisper, only to pause, “Oh my god! Shit, I completely forgot I’m supposed to meet up with my professor right now!” You pull away from Nobara, panicking, “I’ll be right back, I’ll—I’ll meet you at our dorm!” You shove your food into her hands before quickly dashing off, your skirt bouncing with each step.

—

You’re out of breath, but slam the doors or your lecture hall open, catching the attention of the white haired professor. You’re quick to glance at the time, seeing it was almost two minutes past your professors office hours. 

You pray to Satan's right ass cheek that your professor is still here. 

Your professor passes you a quick glance, before singing, “Office hours ended two minutes ago.” He continues collecting the papers on his small desk and putting them in his bag. “But, I’ll humor you since I know you’re not the physical type.” 

You’re aware of how hard you’re breathing from running, the words come out jagged as you drop your bag to the floor, “T–Touche..” You move to his desk, picking up a few papers and handing it to him, although it’s in your better interest. You lean your body on the desk. 

“So…” He draws, blue eyes flickering from his desk to your face, “What did you need help with?” There's a hint of playfulness behind his voice, but it’s equally as mocking. 

Ugh, you hate Professor Gojo. Okay… that’s a lie, he’s really nice to look at, but that’s all. “I’m sure you got my many emails and noticed my empty seat, but I couldn’t be here for a solid week.” You pass him a meek smile.

“Why were you out?” He asks, tilting his head to the side. You’ve always liked that about Gojo, how animated he is. It adds an interesting draw to his lectures. Seeing his hands flail dramatically around to emphasize any topic he was teaching. 

You look to the side, instantly avoiding eye contact, your heart tugging at the thought. “Uhm… F-Family emergency..” You wave your hand, as if the topic was a fly you were trying to rid, “I was just wondering, what I missed? We do anything important?”

Professor Gojo places his hands on his lips, looking at the roof in thought. “Hm, I don’t think you missed too much.” He grabs his black sunglasses and pushes his hair back with them. “Just a month-long project that takes up thirty percent of your grade.” 

Your eyes widen, your heart falling to the pit of your stomach while your jaw falls slack. “You’re joking.” You take a step back, it feels like you’re going to faint. “Oh my god. Please don’t say that.” Why didn’t Nobara tell you anything about this?!

Professor Gojo smiles, “Not lying, unfortunately.” He flips his sunglasses to fit comfortably on the bridge of his nose, “Your grade is totally tanked.” He tilts his head to the side, white silky strands falling with him. “Unless you can make up a week of lost time in a month.” He thinks, “It’s the thirteenth, so, it might be possible.”

A week worth of work, that doesn’t even include your other classes. Work you also need to catch up on. You quickly try to calculate the workload for the other classes, but immediately feel worse when you do. You’re sitting around twenty hours, maybe even twenty five hours of work. 

It’s manageable, you’ve done it before your freshman year when something similar happened, it may be the reason why your life ends early, but definitely doable. Also something you definitely don’t want to do either.

For a brief second, you're tempted to pull down your shirt and ask him, ‘Is there anything I can do to fix my grade?’ Like those weird pornos or fanfics you and Nobara view to pass time, but you immediately think against it. 

One, that isn’t going to work. This isn’t a fanfic. 

Two, you’re pretty sure Gojo is gay, and married. 

Although, if you were to tell Gojo that last one, you’re sure he would be offended. Yet, immediately follow it up with pictures of his gay partner. Why do you think that? You’re pretty sure you’ve seen it happen before. Like, seventy-six percent sure. 

So, you cringe and ask, not seductively at all, “Is there anything I can do to fix my grade?” You’re sure Gojo is aware of your shiny GPA, something which many of your college professors attempt at tainting, but can’t with how determined you are to keep up your grades. 

Gojo looks at the roof again, thinking for a moment. “I can assign you a different project, or I can just assign the original project to you.” He looks at his desk, pulling open a drawer and searching through the papers, “Which do you want to do?” 

“Is this a final?” Your question is a bit blunt, but Gojo picks up it’s purely fear talking. 

“This is the only thing I’m grading this before your final. Meaning, it’s due…” Gojo leans forward, looking at the calendar on his desk. “The eighth of December. And don’t worry, it’s a project just going in as an assessment grade.” 

That’s right, finals are right around the corner, on the eleventh of December. Meaning, if you procrastinate on this project, or somehow fall behind, you’re sitting–at most–a weekend of studying for your finals. 

God, this makes everything so much more stressful for you. 

He wiggles his shoulders, “I wanted to give my students a break to study.” He cups his face, “Aren’t I an amazing person?” 

No. Your eye twitches, “Yeah, such an amazing person.” You sigh, moving away from his desk and grabbing a chair. “What was the assignment?” You prop it right next to his chair, grabbing the staple of paper and skimming through the stipulations of the project. 

“You’re popular, right?”

No one is popular in college, people just won’t shut up. “Define popular.” You grimace. 

Gojo doesn't miss a beat when saying, “You have many friends, right?” 

You don’t miss a beat when saying, “Define many?” 

Gojo gives you an indescribable look, “What do you mean describe many? What else would that mean?” 

You look to the side, “Well, if I came to lecture and ate five cheeseburgers, you’d be like, wow, that’s a lot of food. But, if I told you I only had five friends, you’d be like, wow, that’s not many friends.” You reason. 

Gojo doesn’t look disappointed, but he’s not necessarily proud either. “Well, you.. don’t, right?” He passes you an empathetic look. 

“Of course not.” Gojo sighs in relief, “I only have two.” Gojo ignores your remark and snatches the paper from you, ignoring your playful grin. He’s quick to explain the project, but with each stipulation you feel your stomach tying itself into knots. 

Partner work? 

Mental Evaluation? 

A project where you pick a student to physically and mentally evaluate their day to day life for a week. Learning about their eating habits, working habits, study habits, and personal life. Then, write an essay about your studies and your personal evaluation on their health, life, and personal character. Gojo assured you that this paper should be told to the participant, however does not have to be shared with them, and will not be shared with anyone other than himself. 

The project seems evasive… you wonder if it’s even allowed. Which seems right up Gojo’s alley. He was always in people’s business. But, a grade is a grade, and you're not going to complain. He’s one to assign something much harder to teach you a lesson about complaining.  

Gojo grabs a pen and writes something down in your packet, “I’m already aware you want to become a physical therapist, so I’ll put that down as the hands on part of your project.” He doodles a small version of him worshiping the rubric, “However, since a handful of students already chose to do medical physical therapy, I’ll have you do sports physical therapy.” 

You feel your stomach turn again. Sports? You haven’t played a sport, more or less exercised, since your highschool days. Even then, you weren’t in a physically demanding sport such as volleyball or soccer, you did marching band. 

Which you could argue was extremely physically demanding, but you regress. 

Gojo adds your name to a shared spreadsheet, adding your name to the sport physical therapy colom. A small shiver of relief soars over your body when you see the name Maki. Thank god. At least you know someone. You’re pretty sure you have her number, too. 

Gojo looks at you again, resting on the palm of his hand. “It doesn't change much. Instead of choosing a random student, now you have to choose a student athlete for your project to be based off of. It’s simple, and shouldn't take more than a few weeks. For you at least.”

It’s nice for Gojo to have faith in you, but you don’t have it in yourself. “Thanks.” You take the paper from him, again looking through the packet again. It seems simple on paper, the most difficult part seems to be finding someone willing to be the participant, but you’re sure you can manage.

Hopefully. 

Gojo waves you off, “I’ll see you in class.” 

You’re already off, grabbing your bag and shoving your papers into it. Off in a rush to the next place demanding your attention. Which feels like overwhelmingly everything this past week. 

—

You smile, your hands signing, “That’s cool, you are really good at drawing.” You use a pink crayon to continue your drawing, a simple picture of the young girl sitting across from you. She’s in elementary school and incredibly shy, often choosing to stay by your side when it’s playtime. You don’t mind.

She smiles at you, grabbing her sparkly notebook and writing a quick, “Thanks.” Before quickly pushing it away and continuing to color the sun an interesting shade of purple. You take a small mental note, the sun should be purple, it’s pretty. 

You continue to braid her long hair, being careful not to tug too hard and accidentally mess up her artwork. You use a hair tie with a pink bow to tie it off, making sure all the strands are secure before pulling two small strands to frame her face. 

You move to the left of her, telling her, “Now we are matching.” She awkwardly giggles at that. 

“Where’s the president?” 

Your head whips around, looking for whoever called you. You immediately know from the way they’re addressing you, it’s a parent. You place a hand on the girl's back, standing up and making your way to the impatient parent. 

You pass her a kind smile, “Can I help you?” 

“I’m here for my child.” She seethes at you, her eyes moving up and down your frame, “Is that even appropriate for working with children? Do they pay you to dance on a pole and dress like a–” 

“I’m not getting paid.” You tell her, holding your hands behind your back, “I’m the president of the ASL club here, we teach people about ASL and the language, we also volunteer here when the School of Deaf Children have a small field trip to our school.” You smile brighter, “I don’t get paid to do anything.” You reiterate.

She gives you a look between disgust and jealousy, which you can’t blame her. Not everyone can be intelligent and as beautiful as you. “What’s your child’s name? I can grab them for you.” You call for a member of the club, telling them to bring a clipboard with the sign out sheet. 

When they do, you give the items to the mother and search for her son. You click your foot on the floor three times, the vibrations sending a silent call for the boy. He turns his head and looks at you, watching as you point behind you at his mother. He sighs and gathers his things. 

You laugh and move back to the mother, taking the clipboard and skimming over the information she added. You ignore how she misspelled his name, actually, that’s a lie, you erased it and fixed her mistake. You do ignore the nasty glare she gives you. 

“He always enjoys being here with us,” You watch as the little boy tugs his things to you, feet dragging on the floor dramatically. You place a hand on his head, “I’ll see you on the next field trip.” 

She scowls at you, but softens her gaze on her child, asking him about his day. There’s a genuine smile on her face while she talks to her child, so you don’t let her words get to you. 

“Don’t know how you do it.” Her voice is sharp, pulling you to look at her. “Especially after meeting with Gojo, you’re a trooper.” There’s a hint of playfulness, although you can barely pick up on it due to her RBF. 

You laugh dryly, “Oh, I–I don’t know, I’m just…” 

“Your flask is sticking out of your pocket.” Maki points at your torso, her face as emotionless as ever. 

Your eyes widen with fear, looking down at your torso only to notice you don’t have pockets. You pass her a hard glare, “Ha ha. Very funny.” You lean your weight on one of your legs, “I would be dead if found with something like that, especially here.” You gesture to the children behind you. 

Maki laughs, “So..” She starts, “I’m sure you’ve finally gotten the project.” 

You groan, looking back at the club working with the kids. “Ugh, yeah.” You roll your eyes, “I don’t know what’s worse, that fact it’s thirty percent of my grade, or I have to humiliate myself to a random athlete to pass it.” You sigh.

Maki’s eyes light up for a moment, “Wait, you’re also doing athletes? I thought you would be in “physical therapy” where you can just choose random friends.” She tilts her head, “Isn’t that what you’re kinda known for?” 

You mush your eyebrows together, “Wait, what do you mean?... Known for?” You pause, “Wait, don’t tell me that how people know me?..” 

Maki laughs, before mockingly saying, “Oh, wait? Is that the girl who wants to become a physical therapist? You think she has the answers?” She crosses her hands over her chest, “Something someone has said to me while doing work.” 

You pout, “Why can’t I be known for how cute I dress, or something?” Why couldn't you be known as that mysterious hot girl in lecture? “Whatever, I don’t care…” You do care, you care a lot. “But, no yeah, Gojo said there wasn’t any room, so he put me in the physical therapy for athletes slot.” 

Maki cringes, “Rough. But I wouldn’t worry, it’s just a few people in our class.” You let out a sigh of relief. “You know what’s rougher? Actually finding the athlete, luckily my little brother is one so I got a free pass.” She laughs, cupping her mouth, “And I don’t have to embarrass myself following a random boy like a puppy.”

You feel your eyes widen, “Shit, we really have to follow them around?” You sigh, “I don’t even know any athletes, I don’t even know where to start…” You look at one of the kids running around, making sure to keep an eye on them in case they trip. “I feel like I’m going to embarrass myself by asking a random one to help me.” 

“I think Gojo is plotting.” Maki says, “He’s bored and wants something exciting to happen, so he decided to make this stupid project where we’re forced to be close to someone twenty-four-seven.”

You laugh, a decently sized crowd passing behind you and Maki. “Sounds like Gojo.” You cup your mouth, as if anyone were interested in your conversation and whisper, “I heard he assigned a boy and a girl together back when he first started teaching and now they’re married working on campus.” 

“Oh yeah, have the girl’s lecture class.” Maki looks at the sky, “Gojo fiends for drama, but we all know this.” She turns over her shoulder, wondering about the loud and obnoxious conversation behind her, only to notice the large crowd of boys. She softly groans in annoyance. 

You quickly eye them alongside her. 

“Football boys,” She mutters, clearly agitated. “Hate them all, so glad my brother isn’t one of them.” 

“Should I ask one of them to do my project?” You tilt your head, watching as they slowly move away from you, their loud chatter getting more distant. “Maybe if I pull down my shirt enough someone will say yes.” 

Maki scoffs a laugh, “Yeah. That could definitely work.” She looks back at the group, her happy expression falling for a moment, “Just don’t get the pink haired one. He’s a dick.”

Your eyes snap back to the group, you didn’t even notice a pink haired guy, “What, why?” You don’t recognize him, which means you don’t have any classes with him. 

“Some asshole.” Maki scowls, turning back to look at you. If looks could kill, the guy would be six feet under. “He’s a football player who doesn’t know shit about the real world, got everything handed to him while growing up.” 

“How do you know that?” 

“Because he talks about it in class.” She shakes her head, “You should hear him, so full of himself, and won’t shut the fuck up.” She pivots a foot behind the other, “He’s rude, too. The only people he’s somewhat nice to, are his professors.”

You laugh, “That’s how it is sometimes, Maki.” You look back at him, he’s tall and built, “Besides…” You smile at Maki’s disgusted face, knowing what you’re going to say. “If he’s hot, he could do whatever he wants for me and I’d thank him.” 

“You’re hanging around Nobara too much.” Maki turns on her heel, “Whatever, if you choose him as a partner and fail, I’ll be the first one to tell you..” She smiles over her shoulder, “I told you so.” 

You’re not going to, but you say, “I doubt it.” You turn back to the kids, wanting to put your full attention on them again, but pause. Your eyes travel to look back at the man, skimming over his body again. 

Maybe you can die on this hill, but assholes are hot. 

Then again, you don’t know any assholes in your life, so you can totally be delusional and be reading too many fanfics for your own good. But, Nobara does, and she loves her asshole, you think. So, they can’t be that bad, especially if they look that good. 

Whatever. You have more important things to obsess about. 

—

You’re about to enter your room, when the door swings open, slamming into your face. You whimper, stumbling backwards into the wall behind you. Both your hands cupping your face in pain, your cute bag falling to the floor. 

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry.” A pair of hands make their way to your shoulders, “I didn’t think anyone would–holy shit, Nobara!” The person shouts, “I accidentally killed someone with the door!” Their voice is boyish, but in some weird way that is what makes it charming. 

Someone else rounds the corner, your guess is that it’s Nobara. “You killed her?” She pushes the boy away from you, her hands wrapping around your shoulders as she crams you in her neck, “Poor thing’s had a rough day, and this is what you welcome her home to?!”

“I’m so sorry!” The boy responds, he sounds very ashamed. 

“Keep it down, it’s three, everyone’s trying to nap right now.” Another boyish voice perks up, he sounds more monotone than the first one. As if he also had woken from a nap, “Try bringing the body inside before panicking.” 

“Good idea, Megumi.” You feel a pair of hands grab your waist and hoist you up, throwing you over their shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You don’t know if you should be offended, or flattered. “We’ll check for a pulse when we’re inside.” 

Nobara's voice pops up again, “Wait! Be careful of her skirt! You’re going to flash people!” She scolds, and you pray to everything that is almighty that there isn’t anyone in the dorm hall. “Megumi, you grab her bag!” 

There’s no way this is happening. You move one of your hands to press on the fabric of your skirt, pressing it against the high of your thighs. “I got it.” You tell her while the man carries you into the room, Nobara shutting the door behind the two of you. 

You take this time to finally look at the other man in your room, not the one carrying you, just to specify. The man has jet black hair, part of you wonders if it’s dyed, and pale skin. His eyes look a bit lifeless, but you can’t blame him, it is college after all. If you can remember correctly, the man holding you like a potato-sack called him Megumi.

You’re dropped on your bed, your hair fluttering around your head. For a moment, you feel like time has stopped, the boy in front of you smiling widely. You want to laugh at the irony, a part of you thinks, what a small world? Then, you remember you attend a college, and the only people who walk around at that college are the students who attend that college. 

Wow, who would’ve thought, right?

So, the first thing that leaves your lips is, “I like your hair.” To give yourself some credit, it’s what you found the most interesting part of his backside.

The boy tilts his head, his hand moving to run it through his pink tufts, “Thanks.” He leans on the bed next to you, he’s still looking at you as he says, “I like you.” He smiles again, grabbing one of Nobara’s pillows, “You’re light, by the way.” 

Flattered. That, or he’s just freakishly strong, which seems more plausible. Still, his words strike a place in your chest, either that or you really need to talk to more people. You turn to Nobara, “I like him, why haven’t you invited him to our dorm before?” 

Nobara gives you a look, and that answers your question. She juts her thumb at the boy sitting next to you, “Yuuji’s been the one taking your stuff to my car.” She cocks her head at the other boy in the room, he’s enamored by something on his phone. “Megumi’s been actually packing your things.” She winks, “He ended up only using like three–four boxes with his packing skills.”

Your face lights up, “Really? That’s awesome!” That means you can return the other six you bought from Home Depot for way more than you should’ve. “Thanks, you just saved me like twenty bucks.” 

Megumi gives you a thumbs up, before looking back at his phone. Now that you’re really looking at him, he looks really familiar, you just can’t put your finger on it. You could swear you’ve seen that RBF somewhere before…

Nobara furrows her eyebrows, marching over to Megumi and grabbing his face, “Hey! Look at me when I’m talking to you!” She puts her hand on the back of his head, forcing him into a subtle bow. “When I introduce you to someone, actually look at them, jerk!” 

Megumi seems to pout almost, giving into Nobara’s demands and bowing, giving you a half-hearted, “I’m Megumi Fushiguro, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Even when Nobara removes her hand, he stays in that position. 

You find it a bit cute. 

“Wait, we’re saying our full name?” Yuuji tilts his head so he’s practically nose to nose with your face, “I’m Yuuji Itadori, it’s nice to finally meet you.” He looks back at Nobara, “She doesn’t shut up about you.” 

A pillow hits him directly in the face, and Yuuji dramatically falls with it. Acting if he had gotten shot with a gun. Nobara points her nose up, “What you get for running your mouth, I-ta-dor-i.” She says his name with so much conviction, you were almost offended by it. 

Yuuji lays on the bed, his side touching the small of your back, “When will my suffering end, I slave away putting heavy boxes in your car, only for you to stab me in the back like this.” Yuuji grabs the back of your shirt, “You would never do this to me, right?” He sniffles, his hands crawling to hold your torso in a hug. “You would always have my back, right?!”

You snicker, one of your hands moving to cup both of his. You give him a somber look, shaking your head, “No. I would never do this to you, Yuuji.” You hold his hands tighter, “Absolutely never.” You whisper.

Yuuji blinks a few times, letting his head fall on the bed with a soft thud. “The light?... I–I see the light, I don’t want to–I don’t want to go.” 

You stifle a laugh, turning your body to face him, “No! Don’t leave me!” You throw yourself over Yuuji, “I can’t do this without you!” You have no clue what “this,” even is. “I can’t lose you, too!” You’ve never lost anyone before, well.. that’s if you don’t count the plushly you lost at the mall one time.

Yuuji falls slack against the bed, sticking his tongue out and mumbling, the most realistic death sound of, “Bleh!” You finally burst out in laughter, pulling away from Yuuji to clutch onto your stomach. 

Yuuji quickly props his head up on his hand, “Anyway, I’ve been dying. When are we going out to eat, Nobara?” He passes Nobara a careless smile, as if he hadn’t put on the most cringeworthy act with you as his co-actor. 

Nobara gives him an indescribable look, one that borderlines anger and disbelief. 

Megumi blinks a few times, “Well, at least they get along just fine.” He gives the two of you a small applause. Which the two of you deeply appreciate.

Nobara blinks alongside him, whispering, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her talk this much when she’s with me.” She doesn’t know to be offended, or weirdly proud that you’re finally talking to people. Albeit, she would’ve preferred if you became more social outside the comfort of your bedroom, but hey, baby steps. 

You turn over your shoulder, peering at Yuuji again. “I can order some pizza, and when me and Nobara go to my new apartment, you can pick it up and bring it over.” You grab a piece of your hair from his back, you’re guessing it came off when he carried you. 

Yuuji blinks at you with a bit of sparkle in his eyes, “I think you’re my new favorite person.” 

“Are we friends now?” 

“Best friends.” Yuuji clarifies with full seriousness. 

You loudly laugh, slapping your hand over your mouth as you turn away from Yuuji. “Oh my god, he’s so fun.” You let yourself fall on his back, laying down while looking at the ceiling. 

You feel your body collapse for a moment, the aching and stress from the day crashing down on you. Sure, there’s a human below you, but you could be on a bed of pins and still find some form of relief by laying down. 

Like Megumi said earlier; It’s three, everyone is taking a nap right now. That should be you right now, sleeping on your uncomfortable-comfortable college assigned bed alongside your collection of stuffed animals you won from an arcade, and the dozens of blankets you bought from Target with the mindset of: One more couldn’t hurt. 

“If you want, I can move?” Yuuji asks. 

“No.” You tap his back a few times, as if you were a Dad patting a massive dog. “I’m already comfy. I wanna’ take a nap.” You sigh, closing your eyes for a moment, and in the moment it feels like heaven. You really need a nap. 

Yuuji nods with conviction, “Okay, I won’t move.” He quite literally freezes, you’re sure he’s not even breathing from how still he is. 

Your sentence breaks in cracks of laughter as you say, “You can breathe, babe.”

Yuuji clearly lets out a long sigh. You laugh again. 

You want to lay like this forever, but you have an apartment waiting for your arrival. Besides, you’re going to feel even better when you’re laying down in your new bed in your new room. Suddenly, you’re bubbling with energy. 

You collect yourself before pushing yourself off the bed, reaching for your bag, “Here, I’ll go check I have everything in your car and order the pizza.” You turn to Yuuji, “I can tell you when to pick up.”

Yuuji nods, giving you a thumbs up. 

Nobara follows after you, grabbing her keys. Yet, before she leaves the room, she points at both of the boys and says, “Be good.” Then, shuts the door behind her with a smile. “Now, let’s hope to come back to a room with two living men.”

You tilt your head to the side, “Have they tried to kill each other before…?”

Nobara looks to the side thinking, “They have. A good handful of times, actually.” She laughs, thinking about the two boy’s bickering at times, “Yuuji can be something else, and Megumi needs his time alone to function. Sometimes, it’s like trying to make peace between a dog and a cat.”

“Impossible?” You ask with a smile.

“Exactly.” 

You give a humorous laugh, “Is Yuuji the dog?” 

“A big dog.” 

You laugh again, but your conversation with Maki pops into your head again. This time, you voice your thoughts, “I like Yuuji, he’s fun. Cute, too.” Nobara shivers, as if the thought of Yuuji being cute physically revolted her. “But, Maki said she doesn’t like him.” 

Nobara thinks for a moment, “Maki’s the junior in our class right?” You nod in confirmation, Nobara stays silent for a moment, still thinking. “Weird. I didn’t know she knew Yuuji. To be honest, I thought she was the type of person to hate underclassmen.” 

You can’t disagree with her, “Huh. She really does give that vibe?”

“We all have our personal vendettas.” Nobara shrugs, looking at the sky. It’s starting to get dark, the sky blending into hot colors. “I know Megumi doesn’t like Yuuji, but he won’t say that out loud, so who knows?” 

“That can’t be true.” You shake your head, “They look like they get along.”

“They should, or that means freshman year had to be hell for them…” Nobara presses her lips together, “Now that I think about it, I don’t even know if he likes me…” She shrugs again, a cheeky smile building on her lips “But everyone loves me, so I doubt that.” 

“Of course, who wouldn’t love you.” You internally roll your eyes, “No, but seriously. Yuuji seems kind of cool. I just don’t understand why she would say that.” You smile to yourself, “He’s strong, has nice hair, is nice to look at, and he’s really nice. I just don’t understand why she would call him an asshole.” 

“Woah, ew. Don’t say that about my brother, that makes me want to barf.” Nobara pretends to gag, grabbing onto her stomach. 

Your eyes widen in surprise, “You guys are related?!”

“No.” She snickers to herself. 

When the two of you reach the parking lot, she reaches for her keys and unlocks her car from the short distance. Popping open the trunk with her keys, and the only thing you can see is the organized boxes filling her car to the brim. 

You quickly check over all the boxes. Eyeing over everything packed, just to make sure you weren’t leaving anything behind. “Damn, you were right about Fusiguro, these boxes are packed.” A part of you wants to pay him, but you by no means have the money. You almost didn’t have the money to pay for the boxes. 

You sit on the ledge of the trunk, picking your phone from your bag. “I swear, I’m going to get the greasiest, cheesiest, diabeaty causing pizza ever for you guys.” You turn on your phone and immediately notice the text message and missed call from your new roommate. 

Nobara cups her face, batting her eyelashes dramatically. “Awh! Babe, you didn’t have to, that’s so romantic.” She wiggles her shoulders like a love-sick teenager.

You unlock your phone, checking the message. “You know I take care of my babygir—“ You blink a few times, your words dying. A horrible pit in your stomach twisting and turning uncontrollably, practically eating you alive. Your heart is dropping uncomfortably. 

Nobara notices your sudden mood change, and is quick to voice on it. “Hey, are you okay?” She looks at your hands, trying to see what could upset you. “If you want I can buy the pizza?…” 

You quickly turn off your phone, placing it face down on your lap and letting out a long sigh. You silent for a moment, your hands cupping your face as you whisper, “Shit.” You feel like crying, but you also feel like screaming in rage. 

“Wait, what happened?” 

“My—“ You groan, clearly annoyed, “Fuck, my roommate just said the room isn’t mine anymore.” You lean back on the boxes, resting your weight on it. You’re trying to form the words, but there’s so much going on in your head you don’t think you’re making sense. “She said I can’t come anymore.” 

Nobara furrows your eyebrows, “Wait, what?” She tilts her head to the sides, “What do you mean you can come anymore?”

For some reason, her question pisses you off, and you grab your phone. “Here.” Your voice is stern, clearly annoyed, “Read.” You flip the screen to her, showing the long paragraph you received from your roomma– ex-roommate. 

Nobara eyes skim over the screen, quickly trying to take in all the information before looking at you with an empathetic face. “Oh my–is this even allowed? Don’t you have to sign a contract to move in with them?” She sits down next to you, “I’m pretty sure it’s illegal to break the binding if you already signed the papers.” 

You feel a bit stupid about your answers, and for some odd reason that pisses you off. “I–” You sigh, leaning your head back on the boxes. “I didn’t sign anything just yet, she just said I could move in today, and we’ll fill out the papers when I’m there.”

Nobara blinks a few times, “Oh.” Is all she says. She doesn’t know exactly what to tell you, but she knows enough not to tell you how wrong you are. You’re clearly upset as it is, and she doesn’t want to add fuel to that fire. You’re already stressed as it is, so she says, “Uhm, do you want me to help you unpack?...” 

You shake your head, “No.” You can’t unpack, Nobara is quite literally having a new roommate move in within this week. “Okay, no, it’s fine. I’ll figure this out.” You have a small idea of what you can do in the meantime. 

“Figure this out?” Nobara gives you a look, her lips pressed together in a thin line. “Babe, that’s something you say when you realize you have a test next class, not when you don’t have a place to stay.”

You sigh deeply, “I know.” Still, you’re trying to figure out what you can do in this situation. Your parents are out of the picture, not literally, they’re just too far, and you can’t stay with Nobara. You can try and move into a hotel, and pray your parents are willing to send you a bit more cash while you desperately try to find a new place to live. 

You nod to yourself, coming to a decision. “Okay, I think I’m just going to stay at a hotel in the meantime.” You open the safari app, and quickly search for hotels in your area. 

Nobara pulls you to your feet, shutting the trunk closed and locking her car again. “Okay, well my new roommate doesn’t come until Wednesday, so you're free to stay the night until she comes. Technically it’s still your room.” She grabs your bag, tugging you along with her as you desperately search for a place to stay. 

—

“The pizza says it’s going to be ready at five.” You think that’s a suspiciously long time for a pizza to get ready, but don’t question it too much. It just gives you more time to find a place to stay. “You can pick it up and bring it here if you want, Yuuji.” 

Yuuji blinks at you, “Are we no longer allowed at your apartment?” He sounds hurt in a way, but you’re a bit too embarrassed to tell him the truth of the situation. 

You thickly swallow, “Uh, well…” 

“Roommate kicked her off the lease.” Nobara says without batting an eye, “I told her to contact a lawyer, but we all know we’re too broke for that. Unless someone wants to pitch in some money.” She looks at you and passes a discreet wink. 

You deeply appreciate her and her ability to read your thoughts.

Megumi shakes his head, “I can call my Da–” He pauses, clearing his throat, “I can call Gojo and ask for some money.” He looks away, averting his attention at a wall. It could be the bad lighting, but it looks as if his ears are red. 

You have to reign in what Megumi just said, but you aren’t given the time when Nobara jumps into the conversation. “No. She doesn’t like Gojo, can’t imagine how she’d feel if she borrowed money from him.” 

Megumi looks at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You don’t like Gojo?”

“Uh…” You give him an awkward smile, scratching your cheek lightly. “Not really…?”

Megumi nods, his lips pulling into a subtle upside down smile. It looks almost approving, “Me neither.” You didn't know you could end up liking someone with just a simple phrase, but here we are. 

Yuuji pulls on your sleeve, drawing your attention back to him. “So, what are you going to do?” He looks at you with puppy eyes, as if he were in the same boat as you.  

You pass him a somber smile. “I don’t know, I think I’m just going to crash at some random hotel in the meantime.” You shrug, trying to brush off the topic, but the pit in your stomach doesn’t go away. “Hope for the best, you know?” 

Yuuji practically lights up at that news, he quickly grabs your hands and tugs you into him. “Wait! Does that mean you’re homeless now?!” He seems excited about that, and you wonder if Maki was right about him being an asshole. 

You awkwardly laugh, your smiling faltering, “Uhm, yeah?…” You blink a few times, looking at your hands, then looking back at his face. You quickly pass Megumi and Nobara a worried face, as if you’re trying to say, please help me.

“Do you want to live with me?!” 

No. 

Your lips part, a small noise escaping your throat, but no real words really leaving. Yuuji is pretty fun to be around, but you don’t think moving in with someone you just met is a good idea. Besides, what if the hotel is a better option than the random house he’s offering you to live in. You don’t know how tidy… or dirty his house is, and you can’t just go to his house, scope out the area and be like, ‘Actually, I think I’m going to pass.’ 

It’s rude and puts you in a really awkward situation, a situation you really don’t want to put yourself in. Then again, you really don’t have the money to stay in a hotel, anything you could possibly have in your bank account will be drained, quickly. 

You don’t have the money, or the mindset to drain your bank account. In fact, if the number ‘ZERO’ hits your bank account, your life would’ve been long done awhile ago. There’s no way you’re living to see your personal downfall. 

You press your lips together in thought, “Uh?..” You look at Nobara, and she doesn’t seem to know what to say either. “Are you okay with that?—How much are you going to be charging me?” You have to ask the real question, then you can worry about being a good person and asking about Yuuji’s feelings. 

“Hm?” He blinks a few times, then quickly looks at Megumi, “I didn’t charge my ex when she lived with me. How much do you normally charge your roommates?” It seems like a genuine question, and Maki barks at the back of your head, ‘I told you!’

You softly pull your hands away from Yuuji, blinking at him in confusion. “Wait, do you not pay for your apartment?” You tilt your head at him, blinking in confusion. 

“I don’t.” He places his hand on the back of his head, looking at Megumi with something you can’t quite decipher. “My–” He pauses, making a face at Megumi, “My roommate does.” His eyes perk at that, almost as if it were a revelation. “That’s right, I have a roommate.” 

“So, I’ll be living with two guys?” Your eyes bounce back from Yuuji and Megumi, you can’t say excitement is what you’re feeling right now. No, it’s more desperation and dejection. 

“Mhm!” He pulls you close to his side, and you’re now starting to realize how touchy Yuuji is, but you don’t really mind. “It won’t be that bad, you’ll have your own room and there’s a kitchen.” He looks around the small dorm, “Which I think is already much better than the dorms…” 

You don’t… know. “I don’t know. I don’t want to bother you, and I don’t know if I’m going to have enough money..” 

Yuuji shakes his head, “You can just stay for a month or two, just until you can find your own place.” He places his head on your shoulder, giving you some of the biggest puppy dog eyes you’ve ever seen. “And I won’t even charge you.”

“Deal.” Not even a second thought. 

A smile splits your face, excitement blooming in your chest. A free place to live, your own room, and a kitchen? Maybe you could be in danger by living with two men you just met today, but it’s only for a month or two. Free housing is free housing. 

Yuuji jumps up, clearly happy by the thought of living with you. “Hooray! Let’s go!” Yuuji grabs your hand again, pulling you harshly behind him. “I’ll help you unpack and everything.” 

You feel a small blush dust your cheeks, definitely a big puppy. It’s really cute. 

—

Yuuji’s house is so nice. 

Your eyes are sparkling at the sight, the living room, the kitchen, your bathroom, and your bedroom. Everything is decorated so nicely and smells like heaven, as if someone has just cleaned the room. 

You turn to Yuuji, hands holding each other, “Oh my gosh, your place is amazing! This is so nice!” You move to the couch, sitting down on it, practically melting into the seats. “This is heaven Yuuji, absolute heaven.” 

Yuuji wobbles over to you, flopping over your thighs and stretching over the couch. He’s a bit sweaty from moving all your boxes to your room, and clearly exhausted, but you don’t at all mind. You still move your hands to his head and run your fingers through his pink tufts. 

“You did such a good job, Yuuji!” You practically beaming in your seat, smiling with a bit too much enthusiasm. ”You installed that lock on my door too, right?” You push his hair out of his face when he twists his head to try and look at you. 

Yuuji nods tiredly, moaning out an exhausted, “Mhm.” 

“Awh! Thank you so much, that means so much to me!” You look to the side, watching as Nobara appears from the hall and passes you a thumbs up. A small confirmation of Yuuji’s words. “If you want, you can go grab the pizza now, I’m pretty sure it’ll be ready by now.” 

Yuuji springs out of your lap, energy regained at the thought of food. “Pizza!” He is quick to grab Nobara, pulling her out the door and singing, “Pizza, pizza, pizza, chow-down!” You think it’s adorable. 

Megumi walks out of the hall, looking at Yuuji, then looking back at you. He’s silent for a moment, before softly asking, “Do you want me to stay?” 

You’re a bit shocked by his question, “Uhm..?” To be completely honest with yourself, it would be nice to have the house to yourself for a moment. That way you can try and get a hold of the layout without the judging eyes of your new friends. You’ve also been dying to take a shower in a room without anyone else showering. So, you shake your head politely, “No thank you, it’s okay. I need a moment to myself.” 

Megumi furrows his eyebrows ever so slightly, tilting his head, “Are you sure?” He looks at the hallway, then back to you, “I can stay, it won’t bother me.” He shrugs, but his voice has a hint of care to it, as if he’s trying to put his words in the most friendly way possible. 

You shake your head again, “It’s okay, I’m just going to shower.” Your eyes light up for a moment, “Wait, actually, I have a question.” You push yourself off the couch, moving to stand at the entrance of the hallway. Megumi moves after you. “Which room is which.”

Megumi points at the closet door on the right, “That’s your restroom.” He points at the door at the end of the hallway to the left, “Across from your restroom is your room.” He looks back at you, nodding to see if you understood the information. 

You flash him a smile and nod back, “Perfect, thanks for showing me.” 

Megumi nods, turning on his heel and waving you off. Nobara at the door frame, waiting for him to catch up. She cups her mouth, “We’ll be back in a few, get unpacked in the meantime.” She blows you a kiss and closes the door behind her. 

You roll your eyes and move to your room, pushing open the door and really observing the place. If you can recall correctly, this room once belonged to Yuuji’s ex-girlfriend, which is a bit obvious. There’s a hint of a feminine touch to the furniture and leftover decorations. The window is one of the biggest indicators to such, the curtains being a bit flowy and soft.

The bed is another big indicator. The mattress has been stripped of anything that seems comforting, but the bed frame holds some form of cute touch. It’s white with silver jewels bedding into the leather, creating a patterned ridge. 

The floor is bare, but you don’t mind, you made sure to tell Nobara to pack your pink fluffy rug. However, it has small specks of nail polish. The drawers match the bed quite well, all being white. The desk–or vanity–is something you don’t understand why it would be left behind. It’s gorgeous. There’s even a mirror strapped to the wall a bit above it, a button in the bottom middle to turn on its LED lights. 

You nod to yourself, not bad. 

Sometimes, life is all about risk, and you clearly struck gold with this leap of faith. A cute room, a nice house, and you don’t have to pay rent yet? Could life get any better? 

You squeal to yourself, moving to your boxes and opening the one with your skin care products, hair cleaning products, face cleaning products, shaving products… Honestly, everything you couldn’t use back in the dorms. You’re about to finally care for your skin, mind, and body. 

You're quick to grab your sleeping garments, but find it a bit hard to hold everything so you grab your towel and throw all your things inside, then grab the corners and pull them up. Making a make-shift sack and throwing it over your shoulder. 

Life can indeed, get better. 

Especially when you can take a shower alone. 

You’re giddy making your way to the bathroom, opening the door and closing it behind you. You’re picking your favorite at home, or headphone only playlist, and blasting it on speaker. Picking out from the many girly shampoo scents and propping them in the shower as you swing your hips to the beat of the music. 

You catch a glimpse of the shampoos already in the shower. They’re a bit… They look exotic to put it simply. A brand you’ve never seen before, in fact, the amount of body care looks a bit larger than your own. You feel a bit embarrassed placing your Bath and Body Works body scrub, but they smell so good. 

Even now, your sore bare body underneath the steaming hot water, you’re no longer embarrassed. Your tense muscles relax underneath the jets of the water. Just enjoying your sweet sweet life living in a real house and not a small dorm. You raise your face to the water, rubbing out your face wash, “Fuck, I needed this.”

You flinch when the sound of louder music plays over your own, your eyes snap to the door. You push your hair out of your face and softly sigh. Looks like your friends are back already, and as much as you want to stay in the warm shower, you’re really hungry.

You turn off the water and reach for your pink towel, wrapping it around your body and placing the rest of your face care products on the counter of the sink. It’s a bit of a shame, music you’re unfamiliar with drowning out your favorite–private–playlist. 

You eye the room again, only to furrow your eyebrows. Wait… You feel a bit of dread enter your body, looking around the room with a bit more conviction. 

Oh no, oh no no no no no…

Where are your clothes?! You could’ve sworn you put them in your makeshift sack with everything else–wait, you internally groan, no you didn’t. You placed everything back on your bed and forgot to put it back in your towel. Whatever, it’s fine you’ll just quickly run to your room and grab some clothes, then join your friends for food. 

You grab your phone and reach for the door, peeling it open and peaking your head out. But, you are a bit disappointed at the lack of pizza filling the air, and laughter. The only thing getting louder is the music.

“Hm.” You blink a few times and stand on the tips of your toes, the cold floor sending an uncomfortable shiver down your spine as you step onto cold tiles. Megumi’s words echo in your head, ‘The room across the restroom.’ So, as you walk forward and put your hand on the dorm knob, you feel a bit of panic resonate with you as it doesn't open. 

“Shit, did I lock it?” You cringe at yourself. Oh my god, that’s a horrible way to start off living with Yuuji. Getting locked out of your room, naked. For some reason, that thought makes you shake the door knob with more desperation. 

You tug your hand back when the door knob… jiggles back! Have the door knobs evolved?! 

You flinch when the lights of the room flashes on you, the door slamming open. 

Your eyes widen, your jaw dropping subtly. 

The tall man looks you up and down, his forearm pressing against the frame of the door. His face is one that can only be described as disgust and disdain. In fact, he’s so fucking tall, he is quite literally looking down at you. 

You feel so small. 

And, he’s completely shirtless, yet his arms are decorated in a tattoo that seems to stretch from his arms to his torso, chest, then to his face. The only thing giving him some form of modesty being the gray sweatpants that hang dangerously low on his hips. You can see his v-line and the veins that lead to his…

You snap your eyes back to his face, feeling your burn up, when your eyebrows furrow. The interesting color of his hair is pulling your attention.

Wait a minute…

You narrow your eyes, taking a step back in shock. Another puddle of water pulling to the ground with each step, the bangs that frame your face sprinkling your shoulders with water droplets. 

No way, no way.

An unsure noise leaves your throat, a mix between a whimper and soft cry. “Uh… Y-Yuuji…?” You tighten your hand around your towel, and that realization hits you like a fucking bus. You’re naked. You’re wearing nothing but a towel in front of Yuuji, and he looks absolutely disgusted by you. 

But…You know it’s not Yuuji, it can’t be. Yuuji is a massive puppy, expressive and vibrant, naturally pulling everyone into his circle. He would never even think to look at someone the way this man is looking at you. He's touchy and a bit oblivious, but that’s part of his charm! The Yuuji in front of you is…?

His hair is a bit different, less saturated and messy. His dark natural roots peeking out from his undercut, and he looks… older. In fact, he even looks older than you. His tattoos stretch from his neck, to his face, sharp and crisp lines. 

His eyebrows are pulled together in a glare, a nasty glare, a small wrinkle forming at the side of his nose in disgust. His head is ever so slightly tilted to the side. 

Your eyebrows twitch together, and you find the situation ironic. In fact, you almost want to laugh. Out of all the nice things God had given you today, he wanted to sprinkle in one more surprise. 

This man looks like a…

The man takes a step forward, the music in his room blasting even louder. He was close, way too close. If he wasn’t scary before, now that you have to crane your neck back to look at him, he’s terrifying. He narrows his red eyes at you, letting out a harsh, “What the fuck do you want.” His voice is raspy and deep, clouding anyone he would talk to. 

You blink at his language and rudeness, shocked by his attitude. You part of your lips, they feel a bit glossy from the water, but…a scoffing laugh leaves your lips. 

He looks like an asshole. He’s an asshole. You cover your mouth with your hand, and turn away. A hot asshole. The hot asshole from earlier today. It really is a small world. However, your humor to the events is short lived. You’re quickly reminded of what situation you're in, naked in front of a hot asshole. 

The furrow in his eyebrows deepens. 

“You look like Yuuji.” It’s a silent whisper, one that receives no reaction to the stranger in front of you. He doesn’t even take a step away from you, he’s still too close for your comfort. 

Oh my god. There are two Yuuji’s. Then, light a light bulb, another realization hits you. Oh my god, I’m going to be living with two Yuuji’s. But, you quickly pulled out of your thoughts by another sound.

“Who’s there?” A voice perks from the music, it sounds feminine, and a bit too scratchy for your liking. In a way, it sounds hoarse, or strained. “Is it your brother, I’ve always wanted to meet your brother!” She squeals excitedly, “Let me see him, please!”

Brother? You mimic your thoughts with words, “B-Brother?” You dumbly ask, desperately trying to connect the dots in your head. Wait, you thought Megumi was the one who lived with Yuuji, that’s why the two of them made eye contact back at your old dorm. 

Did you completely misread the situation? You cup your mouth in shock. Megumi isn’t Yuuji’s roommate, his older brother is. The hot older brother who happens to be the asshole from earlier, and now. 

Oh my god. I’m so stupid. 

A blonde woman comes barreling from within the room to the door frame, she’s wearing nothing but a black shirt too big for her. The moment she lays her eyes on your bare frame, her smile twists into something deeply uncomfortable. 

You swear, you can hear the water droplets from your hair hitting the ground from how quiet the three of you are. This is such an unforgettable situation. You pull your hand away from your mouth, passing the women a small smile and a wave. 

She doesn’t wave back. She looks at the man, but he’s not looking at her, his eyes are trained on you. Caught by the way your chest is glistening from the light of his room and the water from the shower, your neck bare and fresh. How your shoulder rises and falls with each soft breath you take, your hair sticking to your face and shoulders. He can smell the sweet scent of your body wash from here. It smells nice.

You smell nice.

Your eyes are something else, though. They’re practically sparkling from the little light emulated from his room, catching every reflection and giving them life. They’re wide and full of shock, you’re most likely trying to process who he is. That idiot Yuuji most likely didn’t even tell you he had a brother. 

You thickly swallow, your throat bobbing ever so slightly. 

He smirks to himself. You’re not too bad looking. 

“Who is she?” The blonde asks with a bit of force, trying to pull his attention away from you. However, despite her question, and her hands moving to grab his arm, he still isn’t looking at her, he’s quiet, way too quiet for your liking. 

He finally shrugs, discreetly pulling his arm away from her hold. “Don’t know. Who cares.” He finally pulls away from your frame, looking at the woman, “Probably one of my brother’s annoyin’ ass friends.” 

She tilts her head to the side, “Oh.” She lets out a small laugh, but it seems more mocking than anything. “Thank god, I thought it was one of your crazy exes trying to get back with you.” She glares at you, “Such a pathetic attempt to use, too.” 

He takes one final look at you, “Yeah.” He looks at the girl, pushing her to the side as he walks back into his room. “Just like you.” He scoffs to himself, turning over his shoulder and whispering at her, “Crazy bitch.” 

She pouts, turning on her heel so her blonde said flips behind her, “Awh! Don’t say that Suki! You know you love me.” She passes you a final satiated glance, “Here, let me make it up to you. Tell me about your tattoos or something!” 

Sukuna’s quick to respond with a pinched expression, “Shut the fuck up. Stop acting like you're my girlfriend.” Then, she slams the door on your face, and you flinch from the intrusion. 

You cringe a bit, not at all liking how addressed a girl as a ‘bitch.’ If something could make you turn your head in disgust in less then a second, it’s called a girl a bitch. Except when you do it.

You glare at the door, “Bitch.” You think back to the man she addressed as Suki and add, “Asshole.” You look at the door to the right, and make your way there, twisting it and sighing in relief when it opens. 

You laugh at yourself, “Thank god..” The first thing you do isn’t change, but open one of your boxes and grab your stationary. Placing them on the vanity. You're quick to grab a quickly sticky note, scribble your name on it, and slam it on the outside of your door. 

No more accidents, and no more random hot, older brother, asshole man. 

—-

Nobara is peacefully sleeping on the couch, bundling herself in more blankets than one person needs. Her chest slowly rises and falls in a rhythmic order, you can even hear her softly snoring. The day had been draining, not only for you, but also for her, so you weren’t going to pester her to stay up and watch the crappy horror movie Yuuji picked out.

Megumi is sitting across from her on his phone. His long lashes flutter with each gentle blink he takes. He, unlike everyone in the room, seems a bit more tense. Narrowing his eyes when something unfavorable happens on screen–like a jumpscare–then quickly follows it by doing whatever on his phone. 

You have a sneaking suspicion that he’s actually really scared of the movie playing, but that’s just a hunch. 

You’re sitting next to Yuuji on the floor, actually–no, Yuuji is laying on you. While you run your hands through his pink tufts, your body is watching the movie playing, but your mind is somewhere else. Not somewhere else, on someone else. 

Yuuji opens his mouth, softly humming, “Ah.” 

You reach over his head, grabbing his pizza slice and lowering it to his mouth, allowing him to take a bite. He does, and you return it to the plate on the coffee table. Grabbing your drink and taking a sip. 

“You have a brother?” 

Your question is so quiet, it doesn’t even disturb the peace. The movie is still playing, Nobara is still sleeping, Megumi is still on his phone, and Yuuji is still laying on your lap. He looks away from the screen, his eyes boring into the bottom of your cup. 

“Yeah.” Yuuji gives you a halfhearted smile, he’s clearly uncomfortable by the topic. “He’s my older brother, I think he’s graduating next year.” He looks at the TV, then back at you, you notice how he’s holding his breath. “Did he…? Did he say something to you?” The question seems unsure. 

You shake your head, “I saw him leave his room when I finished showering.” You pass him a comforting laugh, hand running through his hair. “I thought he was you for a second, until I looked a bit closer.” You wish that was the end of it. 

Yuuji lets out a breath, nodding his head. “Good. He can be…” He sighs, looking back at the TV, “You know what, forget about it. He just sucks, so stay out of his way.” He pulls himself up, “Just stay with me, and you’ll be fine.” 

You think for a moment, wondering if you should ask Yuuji the question bubbling in your head, but ultimately decide to force it out. “Do you… not like your brother?” You ask him, sneaking a blanket from Nobara and wrapping it around your shoulders. Your hair is still a bit damp, wetting the blanket. 

Yuuji rolls his eyes, but it’s playful. “Does anyone like their siblings?” He leans on the couch, propping his arm up and using his hand to hold his head. “We’re just like everyone else, just a bit more… bleh.” Yuuji sticks out his tongue, and you softly laugh. 

“Gross.” You mutter, wrinkling your nose. “But, I get that. I think you’re the nicer one.” You look to the side, thinking for a moment, “Actually, wait, I think you look the nicest.” 

Yuuji laughs, “Thanks.” 

You look at Megumi, “I thought he was your roommate.” You press your lips together, “I thought I was going to be living with you two. I didn’t think it was going to be you… you know.” 

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry?” Yuuji slaps his hand over his mouth, “I totally forgot too—shit, I thought you knew…” He thinks for a moment, remembering how the two of you quite literally met today. “I—I don't know… how though. Shit, that’s so shitty of me.” 

You shake your head, “No, no. It’s okay, I should’ve asked more questions, as a roommate and as a girl. This was kinda’ my own doing for assuming things.” You laugh to yourself, “I also got swept up in the whole free housing thing.”

Yuuji laughs with you, “I would, too. That's why I agreed to move in with my brother, actually.” He rolls his eyes, “A free place to stay, is a free place to stay. Even if I have to deal with an asshole.” 

“I got that vibe from him.” You reach over to his shirt, fixing his collar to fix his neck more comfortably. “But I can’t say that to his brother.” 

Yuuji silently thanks you, before shaking his head. “Nah, don’t worry about it. I could care less what you say about him. To be honest, I don’t even talk to him anymore.” He shrugs, “My room is too far away from his to really hear if he’s doing anything, too.” He laughs, “He could secretly be a murder, and I wouldn’t know.” 

You giggle, your hands moving to rest on his shoulder. You take this time to lean forward and softly kiss his head, “Thank you for letting me crash with you for a while, I really didn’t want to stay at a shady hotel.” You smile at him when pulling back, “Totally saved my ass.” 

Yuuji shakes his head, waving you off. “Stop. Don't even start. I’d do anything for my new best friend.” He loudly yawns, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands. “But, I’m getting tired, I think I’m going to crash.” He pushes himself off the floor, searching for the remote and turning off the TV. 

Nobara is quick to get up, one of her eyes still shut as she awkwardly says, “H-Huh, what?...” She frantically looks around, “I’ve been up.” She is quick to crash down into the pillow again, gaining a small laugh from everyone in the room. 

Megumi shakes his head, pushing himself off the couch. “I’ll take her home.” He glances at you, “Go to bed, I know you still have to set your bed up.” 

Sure, you’ve spoken to Yuuji the most this entire day, and spoken to Megumi the least, but he is genuinely your favorite out of the bunch. You pass him a quick smile, but it’s strained and full of exhaustion. “Thanks.”

Megumi just nods over his shoulder, searching for Nobara’s keys. Then, pauses, looking back at you, “Also, just a word for advice, Itadori’s brother…” He starts, “His ex would always complain about him… being really anxious at night, so just wear some headphones or… go to sleep early.”

You giggle, “I’m sure I can handle a bit of music at night.” You point at Nobara, “She used to play the weirdest shit late at night.” 

“Yeah, but I don’t think…” Megumi stops himself, “I’m sure you’re going to be fine.” But, his tone, the unsure expression he’s passing you, you can’t help but think… 

Obnoxious how?

—-

Honestly, the day could’ve been better. Way better, but it could’ve been worse, way worse. Still, you appreciate how the day has ended. Your sheets laid out and covering the mattress, your blankets and stuffies decorating your bed to make you more comfortable in your new surroundings. 

You’ve taken some time to put mostly everything in its respective place. Like the fluffy carpet, and small coffee table in the middle of the room, since you prefer to do your homework sitting on the ground. And the pictures and posters you have of friends, family, shows, and celebrities. 

The room was starting to slowly look more like home. 

You blink a few times, pressing your glasses to the bridge of your nose—something you don’t wear outside the comfort of your room—and focus on the small text in the booklet Gojo had given you. 

You can confidently say you understand what the project is asking of you, but there’s so much to do, and so little time to do it, you don’t even know where to start. You feel overwhelmed. Not only that, but finals are creeping up way too fast for your liking. 

“This is a problem for tomorrow, or… today? Whatever. It’s too late.” You whisper to yourself, shutting the booklet and leaning back on the palms of your hands. Looking at the ceiling with a blank expression. You’re tired–exhausted, it’s past twelve and starting to hit the single digits of the AM. 

You still have to catch up on all your other missing assignments due to your sudden leave. You close your eyes, pushing yourself off the ground and stretching. There only seems to be one solution to your problems. 

You reach for your computer, propping it onto your table and pulling up the show BoJack Horseman, clicking onto the first episode while scrambling around for your backpack. 

Time to pull an all-nighter.

You can still hear the music from Yuuji’s brother's room, it’s a bit quieter, but you still add a bit of volume to your computer, trying to drown out the noise. And, it’s nice for the first hour, maybe even the first hour and a half, your writing progressively getting more fit with each assignment you finish. Your eyes are feeling heavier, and BoJack’s life choices are getting dumber. 

You feel like you can fall asleep sitting up, but you jump at a small bump. Your ears perk up to the sound of… something you can’t quite put your finger on. Actually, the best way you can describe it, is if it were late at night and you stubbed your toe, yet you were desperately trying to stay quiet.

Hm. In your mind, that seems pretty spot on, yet… you’ve heard this particular nose before. It sounds familiar, really familiar. Maybe from a late-night movie, or a sound from a—

“Ah! O-Oh my god, p-please—please.” A pleasurable cry. 

It’s silent again, the sound of BoJack Horseman death to your ears. 

A shiver shoots up your spine, forcing your body to shoot itself up. Your eyes widening while your face begins to burn with embarrassment. A small whimper leaves your throat, another shiver shooting down your body, it feels electrifying. It feels dirty. 

There’s no fucking way. This can’t be happening, this isn’t real. Today isn’t real. You feel your face flush, ever so slightly turning your head over your shoulder to look at the wall behind you. “It’s probably just a movie..” You tell yourself. “They’re watching a weird movie.”

A gruff voice barks back, “Move your fuckin’ hand and take it.” She cries again, but it’s a bit more muffled compared to her last cry. “Or I’ll move it.” He sounds a bit pained, almost gritted when said, before a small mocking–yet, approving–laugh follows. “Yeah, you can take this dick, can’t you?”

This time, something deep within your blooms in your stomach. A fluttery, almost tingly sensation building deep in you. You feel your finger twitch, blinking at the wall, your freshly decorated bed catching your attention. 

Of course your bed is pressed right against his wall, and of course the walls are paper thin. 

Your ears perk again at the sound of a forced squeal, a scream of, “K-Kuna’.. W-wait, it feels..” But, her sentence is cut off by another moan, this time more deep and tired. What follows, makes your hips twitch. 

“Fucking amazin’? I know.” He groans under his breath, a cocky laugh leaving his mouth, “C’mon, use that dumb cunt of yours to fuck yourself on my cock.” A small bump lands on your wall, much like the sound of a head falling back on it. “Yeah, fuck. Just like that.” 

His words are filthy, and drive you a bit crazy. Your mind is clouding with ideas of… him. Kuna, Suki, that’s what she said, those are the two things she called him. Is that his name, Yuuji’s older brother? Are those her nicknames for him? 

Kuna? 

Suki?  

You hate that, you want to scold yourself over fantasizing over a stranger. You’re not fantasizing, you’re just trying to piece together what could be happening on the other side of the wall. How he looks when flushed, half-lidded and body surging with pleasure as he fucks. The noises he’s producing when spending special attention on his sensitive tip. How filthy words leave his mouth with a cocky smile, no care in the world as he tries to embarrass you–

You gasp. No, you didn’t just think that. You didn’t think about Yuuji’s older brother, a stranger, a asshole, fucking you. That’s impossible, you’re not a fiend, you’re not a pervert, and you're not thinking about how hot he looked standing over you. Looking down at you with a scowl as you suck his cock. 

Your throat bobs, your mouth salivating. The image of his veins, his happy trail, his v-line, leading down to the print in his sweatpants. You bite onto your bottom lip, lightly slightly sucking onto the skin until it’s a bit swollen. 

You mush your thighs together, turning back to the table. Closing your eyes and trying not to think about… no, you’re just trying not to think altogether. Trying to ignore how your body is burning, your panties sticking to your throbbing pussy.

“Get off–” The sentence seems a bit more quiet than before, the whole sentence not translating well to your ears. You’re thankful for that, is what your head is screaming, but your body is desperately itching to hear every dirty word he says. 

“Hands… knees.” His voice sounds strained, but still collected. 

You flinch when something bangs against the wall. It’s thankfully not hitting your wall, but it sounds incredibly close. Wait, is that?... Is he…? Is that the headboard hitting the wall? The bed lurching forward with each of his harsh thrust. 

This time, it’s far too clear for your mind to ignore her quiet sobbing, yet she mumbles small encouragement for Yuuji’s older brother to, “H-hit that.. s-spot.” Babbling profanities you weren’t previously aware of, to scream obnoxiously in your face about how good she feels. 

Then, the banging stops. A more human bump hitting the wall, followed by, “That shit’s getting on my nerves.” 

“Use a pillow, you don’t need to hold it–ah!” 

This time, you don’t hear the headboard of his bed hitting the wall. You only hear the creaking of the mattress hissing uncomfortably under the weight of two people. You wonder what he did exactly to prevent the noise. 

Press his hands above his head board onto the wall, then continue to fuck her senseless. Or, does he only have one hand pressed against the wall, only grabbing onto the top of the headboard and using it to add more strength behind each stroke. Sending the annoying girl deeper into her spiral of pleasure. 

You feel your eyes water ever so slightly… and–you may be perverse, or a dirty girl. But, you don’t care, you really don’t fucking care. Especially not when your pussy is desperate for some harsh attention, a big mean man to fuck you senseless. To spread you open and toy with your sensitive and drooling cunt. 

You… you wish that girl is you. You wish you are her. Crying over a cock that makes you feel so good, you don’t care if anyone is listening. You wouldn’t care if he was forcing you to take it to quick or hard, his hands grabbing your hips and forcing you to fuck his cock with your overstimulated pussy. 

No, stop, I have shit to do. You don’t have the time to be stupid over boys. “Where are my headphones?” You need to do work, you need to have conviction and discipline. The moment you wake up tomorrow, remembering all the things you thought about the previous night, you’re going to jump off a cliff. 

You just need some clarity, some sleep. That’s all it is, you’re exhausted, and the idea of… No, don’t even start. You softly sing the opening tune of BoJack Horseman to yourself. It may be stupid, but it keeps you concentrated on the task at hand.

You need to do homework, you are too far behind to get distracted. Even now, while desperately looking for your headphone–it’s in one of these boxes, it has to be–you’re ignoring the noises from the other room. Did you lose them? Did you really lose them the one time you actually need them? 

Fine. 

You’ll wake up early tomorrow, find your headphones, and finish your assignments. You scramble for your lights, flicking them off and diving into your bed. Your computer is still open, Netflix asking the annoying, ‘Are you still there?’ But, you’re not paying attention. 

Your eyes are shut, a pillow wrapped around your head while you’re slowly growing more annoyed. It’s so obnoxious, vulgar, rude… You don’t even know how to describe the situation Yuuji’s older brother is putting you in. 

It’s dick move. 

Wouldn’t it be common courtesy to try and be quiet. It’s such an awkward situation for you, such a weird situation to be in. It’s infuriating. A part of you wants to loudly knock on the wall and scream at them, but the other part of you wants to give Yuuji’s older brother the benefit of the doubt. 

He’s probably just unaware. 

You’ll tell ‘Kuna–hopefully his name is ‘Kuna, you really don’t know–tomorrow when you run into him. Or, tell him to be a bit more reserved, or ashamed, of what he’s doing, and how hard it is to focus on work when people are obnoxiously fucking in the room right next to you. 

Besides, you genuinely can’t stand the idea of dealing with that every single night while trying to do your work. It sounds like a pain, a hassle that will never let you sleep or study undisturbed. That’s too weird, that’s too annoying. 

But, you know the real reason. 

It’s why you’re desperately rubbing your thighs together. While trying to force yourself to sleep. 

Next Chapter: Ch. 2 - Sexual Tension.

#Silent Love: Sukuna x Reader #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk #jujutsu ryomen #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen yuuji #sukuna x y/n #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #jujutsu sukuna #jjk x reader smut #sukuna x reader smut

[nobodysdaydreams]

Hatchetverse Theory: The Parallels Between Paul (TGWDLM) and Grace (NPMD):

More thoughts and parallel screenshots under the keep reading, part of my #hatchetverse theory posts. Sorry these are all awful screen shots, I'm bad at gifs, but I hope I made my point.

The screenshots are pretty self-explanatory, but the parallels between Paul and Grace, especially with what happens to their characters at the end of their respective musicals, has been living in my head rent free, and I want to talk about it.

I've seen a lot of posts that speculate that the reason Grace went crazy at the end of NPMD is because she's just that blood thirsty and willing to kill, and while her character (at least of what I've seen of her in NPMD and what I've seen of nightmare time) is certainly intense, I wouldn't quite go so far to say she's always been that willing to hurt others, even for what she believes.

In fact, after rewatching NPMD, I realized something. When the kids first go to the Waylon Place, the others are the ones suggesting ways they can violently hurt Max. Pete even calls Grace's plan "goofy" and Richie is the one who suggests beating Max up. Grace is the one who tells them that all she wants to do is teach him a lesson and scare him and rejects their more violent ideas.

But after Max dies? That's when Grace's intensity starts taking a darker turn, and it's not as noticeable as it might be in the other kids because "Grace has always been kinda weird and intense" and the show has been playing that up for laughs since the beginning. But when you look at what happens to Grace in terms of her character's choices, she's the one who suddenly pulls a "bury the bully" plan out of nowhere when she was against even beating him up just a few hours ago. She's the one who suggests lying to the cops and trying to cover up what happened. She's the one who has a prophetic nightmare after the incident at the Waylon Place. That's also the moment when she symbolically loses her WWJD bracelet (though others have already pointed that out).

And if the LIB could infect Paul with spores just because he happened to be in close proximity to the meteor, then they could probably do something similar to any of the kids in the Waylon Place (and you cannot convince me that they were not the ones who collapsed the floorboards in the Waylon Place and killed Max).

But why would they target Grace you ask? Why not one of the other kids? That's a good question. I have a few theories.

The first has to do with what I mentioned before about hatchetverse's history of Webby's powers seeming to favor kids, and the LIB powers struggling to work on kids. We don't know how old most of the kids in NPMD are exactly, but the musical makes a point to tell us several times that Grace is "only 18" (Shaprio says she's a legal adult and will be tried as an adult in court). The musical also makes a point to have this be the Homecoming Dance (not Prom), which is in the fall, so most of the senior students wouldn't have turned 18 yet. We can also make an educated guess that Stephanie has turned 18 and Pete hasn't because she sings "wake me up when you turn 18" during their song. You could combat this by asking why the LIB never address Grace during the summoning and targeted Steph instead, which is a fair point. But interestingly, if you watch Grace, Steph, and Pete during the Summoning, Grace is silent most of the song, but looks completely horrified (especially when they tell her that they want what she cherishes most), despite the fact that from our perspective, the LIB aren't talking to her. She also seems to know exactly what the LIB want from her, because the next scene she's in is when she shows up to save Steph and Pete. During the Summoning, Pete, on the other hand, seems to mostly be involved in the conversation the LIB are having with Stephanie, although Grace also seems to understand what the LIB want from Stephanie. It's possible that this was intentional on the LIB's part, since they can see every timeline (in the "Abstinence Camp" episode of Nightmare Time, Grace gets between Steph, Pete, and Lumberaxe, risking her own life so that Lumberaxe doesn't hurt them. Grace might be willing to lose her own life for what she believes, but she might not be willing to lose her friends' lives. If the LIB know this, they'd likely want to make sure Grace understands that Steph or Pete will die unless she's the one who pays the price).

They have a personal reason for wanting her. In TGWDLM, Pokey hates Paul because...well, Paul doesn't like musicals but bigger picture, Paul resists Pokey's hive mind. Why would the LIB hate Grace? Possibly because she hates evil, the devil, and sin to an extreme degree. It could be a point of pride for the LIB: "we got the guy who didn't like musicals to join our musical and brainwash the world, and we got the girl who didn't like sin to devour souls for us." I've also seen a theory that Paul has some sort of resistance to the LIB because he doesn't like musicals and in a way sort of serves as a "prophet" in TGWDLM by warning others that musicals are bad. Grace arguably serves a similar role to Max in NPMD. She suggests Max becomes a better person "before he ends up in hell", which is ironic because then Max goes on to beat up Pete, which turns the nerds against him, setting off the chain of events that eventually lead him to actually being sent to hell (the black) by Grace. I've also seen some other theories suggesting that the LIB getting Paul in TGWDLM was really about getting Emma (since she was the one who starred in a musical before), and following that logic, it's possible that the LIB killing Max at the Waylon Place was really about getting Grace, because she'd still actually be alive. The LIB might have known this would work if they knew Max and Grace liked each other, and as seen in nightmare time, Grace is willing to risk her own life for her friends, and this might be consistent across several timelines.

Speaking of sacrifice, I know I covered this with the gifs, but the fact that Paul's last act was giving up his life, and Grace's was giving up what was essentially her morality and who she was so they could save their friends, only to have themselves turned into the very monsters they tried to destroy? Absolute tragedy.

But what's also interesting to me is how this happens. The way Grace and Paul both seem to lose control of themselves. With Paul it happens in one song and is more noticeable, but with Grace, it's a lot slower, and the more bad and morally questionable stuff she does, the funnier it is, and her character has been intense and over the top from the beginning, so you almost don't notice the difference in her actions until you rewatch the show. But her and Paul asking "Who am I?" has a similar creepy vibe, the screenshots I found for those moments (pictured below) even ended up looking very similar, though with Paul, you can see more of the fight happening during the song, whereas with Grace, it's more drawn out over the course of the show with these little moments of clarity where she has a complete breakdown.

Then of course there's the whole: What do you want thing?

Why do the LIB want what Grace cherishes most? Why do they want Paul to want anything at all?

And why do they phrase it in the creepiest way possible, asking for "a peek at Paul's soul" and telling him to "give up his choice" and telling Grace that they'll get "whatever they want" and that she'll "be forever in their debt?"

Well, probably because that does seem to be what happens. The most obvious screenshot parallels are probably their final numbers in their shows, which I think speak for themselves. The only unknown is what exactly is happening with the LIB and their whole "what do you want" thing. By taking what someone wants, do they replace that "want" in the person with wanting to serve them? How does that work?

At this point, I'm not sure, and I'm too tired to continue the rant, but I'd be happy to hear anyone else's thoughts on this.

I hope you enjoy Starkid fandom. Thank you for listening to my rants!

#hatchetverse theory #hatchetfield #starkid productions #star kid #hatchetverse #the lords in black #grace chasity #paul matthews #nightmare time #the guy who didn't like musicals #tgwdlm #team starkid #npmd #nerdy prudes must die #hatchetfield universe #nerdy prudes spoilers #starkid npmd #starkid #grace chasity npmd #peter spankoffski #ruth fleming #richie lipschitz #max jagerman #lords in black #the summoning #npmd spoilers #nerdy prudes must die spoilers

[seresinhangmanjake]

The One I Want: Part 4

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x plus size!reader

Summary: You're new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Notes/Warnings: cursing, maybe. I don't think anything else. Sorry if there are typos.

Words: 1874

The One I Want Masterlist

---

“Are you excited?” Jake asks as he hands you a cup of coffee. 

You take a sip and let the liquid run down your throat, then pull the cup away from your face to examine it. Your eyes dart from the caramel-colored drink to your roommate and back. He keeps getting it right, and you don’t know how. It’s as if you wrote the exact measurements of the contents of your usual coffee order on a sticky note and slapped it on the fridge so he had no choice but to memorize it. 

“Thank you,” you say. “And, yea…I guess so. It’ll be nice to have a reason to get out every day, but I have a feeling I'll be bored sitting around.” Which you’re perfectly fine with. A job is a job in your mind, and stumbling upon the gift shop across from the beach was convenient for both hirer and hiree. But Jake doesn’t need to know just how unfeeling you are toward your new job. You wouldn’t put it past him to try to unnecessarily cheer you up.

He’s done it a lot. At any hint of distress, you find him beside you. And as someone who finds themself lost in thoughts that allow anxiety or stress or pain to seep onto their face, it means Jake Seresin is often close. Which also means you are constantly at war with what your mind is willing to accept. 

There’s the suspicious part consuming most of your mind, telling you that people—men like Jake, especially—don’t go out of their way. Not for someone like you. But another itty bitty piece of your mind wants to believe Jake truly is this nice and caring. You wouldn’t hate to have that kindness in your life be a permanent fixture. 

Since you moved in you can’t deny that you rise each morning a little less worried about what the day will hit you with. And you know it’s Jake who has fueled that—indirectly, even. He has yet to comment on you or your body or your clothes or what you eat. Neither positively nor negatively. Though you do catch him staring from time to time, whatever he is thinking doesn’t leave his mouth, which is far more restraint than others have shown in the past. 

Jake shoves his hands into his sweatpants pockets and shrugs. “We usually take an hour for lunch. I could always stop by.”

“And do what?” You can’t hold back your snort, nor can you conceal the upturned tick of your lips. Your first smile of the day, light as it is, and Jake’s eyes fix on your mouth until you say, “Are you overdue for a new keychain or cheap beach snow globe?”

“I might be. Those snow globes are great,” he says with a grin, endearingly crooked. “You know, you shake ‘em around; snow goes all over the place.”

“Yes, I’m aware of how they work.”

“Well then you understand why I might want a new one,” he sasses, all but sticking his tongue out like a child.

You hum to hold back your laugh, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing you’ve started to find him funny in the last few weeks. Something tells you his ego doesn’t need it. Then, with your hand extended you pass him the mug and make your way toward the door to grab your purse off the nearby hook. “I’ll try to remember that. Thanks for the coffee.”

You are almost out the door, out of his sight and so close to gaining the distance you’ve decided you need from him, when he calls out to you.  “Hey, do you want me to pick you up at the end of your shift?”

The smile you’d finally let free from his earlier joke falls, and you swallow hard, suddenly wishing you’d had the money to keep the rental car you used to get yourself from one state to the next. Though you’ll have hours away from him for the day, and the days to come, Jake coming to get you when you’re likely drained from boredom will instantly ruin the mental fortitude you’re trying to regain. 

You’d never speak it into existence, but your new job benefits you in more ways than one. After coming up short on last month's rent, you’ll finally be able to put a dent in the money you owe him—because you are paying him even though he doesn’t ask for it—but you were also banking on the separation giving you the chance to get your thoughts and pulse under control. 

Anticipation has wormed its way into your daily routine lately. You wake. Wash face. Brush teeth. Dress. Think of Jake. Scold yourself for thinking of Jake. Itch to see him, for reasons you’d rather not focus on. Get pissed for the rapid beating of your heart. 

You don’t need it. Not the unexpected thoughts, not the chaos of your pulse, not the disappointment in yourself for failing to learn from previous experiences. Thinking of him too often will fuck things up and leave you worrying about much more than just Jake or his friends or the odd stranger paralyzing you from a sudden comment or snide remark on how you look. Before you know it, you’ll be digging into the front pocket of your suitcase for the final two notecards and tossing a coin. 

“It’s only a mile-long walk,” you say, praying the unsteadiness of your voice isn’t detectable through the wall segmenting hallway from kitchen.

“So?”

You sigh. Definitely not the answer you wanted. You don’t know how to respond. There’s no excuse on the tip of your tongue, so you settle on, “Have a good day, Jake. Go save the country or something.”

—

You were spot on with that boredom prediction. Hours have passed and you’ve been forced to fill the time with menial tasks that might just be shrinking a few brain cells. Examining every item in the shop, counting every item in the shop, recounting the little squishy sea critter toys after a group of preteen girls lingered too long in that aisle. As someone so used to being on the move, each minute is slowly eating away you. 

With limited options, there are opportunities to let your mind wander and, eventually, you drift into your memories. When the urge to stop them arises, you’re shocked that you kick it back. And before you can talk yourself out of it, you’re grabbing a pocket-sized navy-colored notebook and a pen with a plastic seashell for a cap. 

A self-help book you’d skimmed a year prior suggested writing things down to process trauma and grief. The author-slash-therapist didn’t ask for well-detailed memories and feelings, but instead, a quick scribbling of the first things that come to mind. Despite how simple the task seemed, you hadn’t considered it. It seemed silly to relive the pain, to rip open wounds. Even poorly stitched wounds, you won’t deny, that left ragged and raised scars. You’d just been content with no longer bleeding. 

But recently, you’ve neglected a pulling; a string threaded and knotted into your heart with a force trying to tug it free from the confines of your chest. Though you know that would only serve one unenticing purpose, to demand you examine the organ and assess the damage time has worn into it, you don’t reconsider flipping open the cover of the notebook. 

With a free mind, you write down names, places, and towns. You write down words that were thrown at you. You write down the first time someone attacked your most vulnerable parts. And the things said and done that drove you out of one location and onto the next. You write until pages of white are filled with what could only be compared to an insane person's pastime. You write until another customer comes in just as the sun begins to fade. 

You feel her presence before you look up from the notebook in your lap, and when you finally do, you internally flinch at the sight. 

The pin-straight yellow strands of her hair reach a few inches below her shoulders, her lips are coated in bright red, and her eyes are enhanced with heavy dark shadow tones. She is tits shoved together, pushing cleavage out the low V of her camisole, and tight ass filling out tighter, dangerously short, shorts, and tiny waist a man could wrap his hands around and touch fingertips. She’s everything you avoid, and she pays you no mind as she makes her way to the mugs at the back corner of the store before heading for the t-shirts.

It’s obvious she entered with a mission when you find her not one minute later standing in front of you and setting the items on the counter. As you scan and wrap the mug and place it in the bag with the shirt, you don’t miss the similar words written across both cheap gifts. My Boyfriend is a Naval Aviator flows in cursive script over the chest of the shirt. My Girlfriend F*cks a Naval Aviator curves with the rounded shape of the mug.

You wonder if that boyfriend is one of Jake’s friends. Rooster does have a girlfriend and you have no way of knowing if this woman is his type. You kind of hope she isn’t. 

“It’s sixteen dollars even,” you mutter. 

She reaches into her cami and pulls out a twenty, slamming it down on the glass countertop that doubles as a display case for the slightly more expensive, yet still cheap, merchandise. The leftover four dollars are then shoved back between her push-up bra and breast. The bag is ripped from your hand and she promptly exits. 

That’s one way to end a first day, you think. At least it was one more thing to do with your time. Annoying kids, a notebook you’re not going to dare touch for a few days, and a woman with underlying anger issues who reminds you too much of your past. You deflate as you realize tomorrow is not likely to end up nearly as eventful.

Closing the shop is, thankfully, a quick process, because you’d like to make it back to the apartment before the moon and stars become your main light source. Walking home in the dark doesn’t suit you but you weren’t about to accept Jake’s offer knowing it likely wouldn’t stop there. First he’ll be picking you up, then it’ll develop into him dropping you off, then you’ll be hanging out with him and his friends every weekend. And then what? What good will any of that do you?

As it turns out, though, you don’t have a choice. 

Once the building door is shut and locked, you turn to find a black truck pulling up beside you. Your heart misses its next beat as fear grips you, but then you recognize the vehicle. The passenger window rolls down to reveal sandy blond hair, then green eyes, then sharp nose, then wide grin.

“You didn’t actually say no,” Jake says. 

Fuck. 

With a sigh and a roll of your eyes, you step closer, wrap your fingers around the car door handle, and pull. 

---

A/N: ended up having to do something tonight, so this part came a little early. I hope you liked it :)

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @penguin876 @rogersbarnesxx @nani-kenobi @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @shanimallina87 @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @fox-bee926 @hangmandruigandmav @waltermis @fandom-life-12 @a-serene-place-to-be @bruher @cehenyne @tngrace @mamaskillerqueen @emma8895eb @benedictsvestcollection @blackwidownat2814 @himbos-on-ice @entertainmentgal8 @hookslove1592 @whoeverineedtobe @alwaysclassyeagle @chaytea06 @cherrycolas-things @turtle-in-a-tornado @have-a-nice-day-k @inkandarsenic @kidd3ath

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin fic #top gun #top gun hangman #jake hangman seresin x y/n #jake seresin x plus size!reader #tgm #tgm fic #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin angst #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin fanfic

[karniss-bg3]

The Tragedy of Faith

So between tumblr and twitter I've read various takes on Kar'niss and what draws people to him. For some it's the monster fucking appeal, for others it's the desire to fix a clearly broken individual. There are in-betweens and of course this is subjective and depends on the person. Act 2 spoilers ahead. Where my personal interest comes from is how good Larian communicated the tragedy of faith and what a cult can do to a person. Kar'niss is a creature that has been broken by not one God, but two. Lolth broke him physically, the Absolute broke him mentally. His entire identity has been lost to a deity to the point he raises her in his speech. Referring to her as "Majesty" and "Queen", two terms you don't really hear anyone else address her as, he has elevated her to his final savior and leader. He also often refers to himself as "we" and "us", cementing him as part of the hive mind rather than holding any individuality of his own. When he does refer to himself as "I", it's mostly to show further loyalty to the Absolute, to maintain a position of importance in his fractured mind. Cults are notorious for targeting the most vulnerable in society as they are the easiest to mold and manipulate to their doctrine. The fact that goblins are one of the main races that fall to the Absolute's influence is telling in that regard, as they are often dismissed by the other races. Kar'niss was ripe for the picking, an easy target to lure into her arms. No doubt he was found shortly after Lolth twisted him into a drider and banished him, he didn't stand a chance.

Not even taking those elements into account, Kar'niss came from a society that is infamous for cruelty and violence, especially toward males of their species. Drow greatest hits include, but are not limited to: -Killing their young if they are not aesthetically pleasing enough. In other words, ugly. -Sacrificing every third born son to Lolth.

-If a male finds the favor of two competing females, it often doesn't end well for the male. The rival woman will kill the male and chuck his dead body into his opponents bedchambers, just for the sake of being petty.

-Love and emotions of any sort are in short supply, if not outright unseen as a general rule. The nature of drow to backstab and seek to rise in the ranks makes it near impossible to be anything other than fierce and domineering.

With these things in mind, it's easy to assume that Kar'niss had a turbulent upbringing and likely suffered untold abuse from many around him. It's not to say that good or reasonable drow don't exist, it's just not commonplace in a Lolthite society. Unfortunately, the game doesn't give us a great deal to go on as far as his past. What little he reveals only happens after he's dead, and even then its really a cliffs notes version. What we do know is that his devotion is intense and unwavering. He's willing to die for the Absolute because in his mind the Absolute are the only ones who care about him. We even see fellow followers talk down to him, dismiss him, and verbally eye-roll the guy. To them, his fanaticism is over the top and they follow the same God he does.

All told, this leads me to the conclusion that Kar'niss has never, or rarely, known true compassion in his entire life. He's been used as a puppet for one deity or another, and likely mocked or cast aside even when he did everything right. It doesn't surprise me that there are folks who desire a romance option, or barring that a side venture to break him free of the Absolute's hold. We don't know if Kar'niss did terrible things in his past, or where his moral compass sits as his entire personality revolves around God. But I'd love to know, and I crave more background on him in one form or another.

I've spent too much time thinking about different paths that could happen in-game. I also understand it's incredibly unlikely he'll ever become a companion. The sheer amount of time and resources needed to give a character a satisfying arc is likely more than Larian can do with other constraints, but maybe we'll be pleasantly surprised. So Kar'niss lovers, platonic, romantic, or everything in-between...I gotchu fam. We stan the spooder bby. Someone get that man a blanket and a nice mug of hot cocoa. And a cult de-programming kit, one of those would be good.

#baldur's gate 3 #kar'niss #bg3 #drider #karniss #baldurs gate 3 #drow #early morning ramblings #this entire post was the long way of saying “I can fix him” #no judgement to the ones who want an ass full of web #act 2 spoilers #bg3 spoilers #my writing

[readychilledwine]

The Ruining of Seraphina

Summary - Seraphina should have known better than to make a bet against her mate. Especially when losing that bet means being free use for the Inner Circle for a week.

Warnings - all of them, this is a free use open relationship fic. Loose editing 💕 if you squint, there are no errors.

Prompt - Day 7 - Free Day

A/N - I know. You've all been waiting for this one. Happy last @polyacotarweek post! Please keep in mind while reading this, this is both kink and CNM, but the two do not always go together. The smut happens fast, but I tried to keep it enjoyable since this goes through a week, day by day, of Sera being used by the IC. I am willing to expand on any of these days, so I wanted them to be vague yet enticing enough for all of you that the filth was accomplished. For obvious reasons, Elain is not included. It would be super odd to have Sera hooking up with her brother's mate as Azriel watched.

I wrote this with the idea of Sera finding sexual freedom through an open relationship based on other polyamorous people and couples. Being in a CNM relationship can be liberating for someone who grew up with a very strict background, and she felt perfect for this.

💕Poly+Acotar Week Masterlist💕

“Azriel, I hardly know what this means.” Azriel kissed Seraphina’s palm, leaning It against his face as he smiled up at her.

“For a week, the inner circle will be able to use you however they want when they want. You said you wanted to fuck all of them, here's your chance, my flame.”

You bit, nodding, “And you will be there for all of it?”

“Only if you need. Open relationship, baby, we talked about this.”

“I want you there. Sometimes.”

“Then tug the bond in those instances.”

Monday was the first day it began, and to Sera's surprise, Morrigan was the first to enter her and Azriel's room. She wasted no time, pouncing on Sera and dominating her in a passionate kiss.

Sera smiled as her kissed trailed lower nipping at her lip slightly. “Top or bottom?”

“I've ever laid with another female before. I'm at your disposal, Mor.” She watched the blonde's eyes roll before she forced Sera onto her back. Mor situated herself on Seraphina's face, and instinct took over.

The position was so familiar to her, she replicated the movements she begged Azriel for, pushing her tongue into a tight opening, nose nudging her sensitive clit.

Morrigan was beautiful, but she knew now why her and Eris would never work, and the proof was leaking onto her face, tasting like honey with every drop.

Her hands squeezed Mor's ass and the message was received. Mor took control, hand tangling into red hair as she rode Sera's face.

She made the prettiest noises. Soft breathy moans that shot straight to Sera's core, soaking the bed below her.

In what felt like too short of a time, Mor fell apart on her face, plush lips parting into a silent scream as she did and leaned into the headboard.

She took a few breaths before laying next to Sera. “I really needed that.”

The Autumn female blinked. “You can have it any time.”

Tuesday she woke to fingers in her cunt and a tongue on her clit.

Nesta was, in Seraphina’s mind, the picture perfect female, and as she leaned forward on her elbows, moaning her name as her body began to shake, Nesta just smiled.

The female did not let up for hours, her face was constantly buried between long silky legs, finger in her cunt, mouth whispering to her about the filthy novel she was reading with two female characters.

It led to them covered in sweat, Sera on her hands and knees as Nesta and Azriel were kissing above her. She had her lips around Azriel, sucking him in time with thrusts from Nesta's strap on.

The strap was thick, faked veins running along her soft core and hitting every possible spot. Sera was whining around Azriel, body exhausted and overstimulated from countless orgasms from Nesta.

She came screaming, Azriel following her over the edge as she did. Nesta seemed to find completion as well, nails digging into the other female's ass as she did.

The three of them laid together in the bed, Seraphina reading the novel as Nesta and Azriel spoke. They began to laugh as her face flushed, “Don't act all innocent when I just fucked you with a strap on.”

Wednesday she was cornered by Rhys and Feyre after dinner. The High Lady smiled, pulling her into the room before pushing her on the bed.

For the second time that week, Sera enjoyed a female on her face, moaning as the taste of Feyre hit her tongue. The High Lady was not shy, chasing her own desires as Azriel and Rhysand watched whiskey in hand. The males were all smiles, watching the two of them as Feyre then leaned forward, returning the favor.

It was almost hard to focus, nerves being stimulated while she desperately wanted Feyre to cum for her, but she powered through, loving every second of Feyre's fingers and tongue.

They came at the same time, making both males lose a bet and allowing Feyre to then schedule a time with Azriel for a foursome later, a foursome you eagerly agreed to.

Thursday was a night alone with 3 males carved by Gods. Rhysand had taken her first, finding her in the shower and fucking her until she screamed. He buried himself inside of her as he came, biting her hard before carrying her out to her bedroom. Azriel and Cassian were already on the bed. The shadowsinger was sucking Cassian's cock, watching from hooded eyes as the general moaned for him. Rhysand laid you next to Cass, “Do you want more, or do you want to be forced to watch?” Lost whiskey eyes, blinked back at him, compliant to anything he would want. “You are just a little fuck doll, aren't you?”

Sera used to laugh when Nesta would make jokes about wanting to fuck Eris, Cassian, and Azriel at the same time. “I have three holes,” Lady Death would always smile as she said. Now she understood, and she would confirm to Nesta to take the opportunity if it ever arrived.

Friday morning, Rhys had been long gone, but she woke up to the sound of Azriel's moans. Cassian, the most eager male she had ever met, was between Azriel's legs, sucking his cock. Her mate's eyes were screwed shut, breathing heavy as his hand found Cassian's hair. The general motioned to her mate's wings, and Sera obliged immediately.

She licked the soft membrane, fingers delicately tracing the ridge. “You've been so generous for me this week. Isn’t it your turn, Azzy? Don't you want to cum for Cassian?” Her mated nodded eagerly, pulling her into a heated kiss.

Her and Cassian played with Azriel for hours, not stopping until they were all drenched in sweat and exhausted.

The three of them had dinner alone, Sera telling them about Nesta's fantasy and giving her mate permission to pursue, but not touch her older brother further than kissing.

Saturday was spent with Amren. The ancient being has no interest in her sexually, but they still spend the Day together. Amren wanted to study her powers, believing there had to be more to the female for her to have been with such a powerful male by the Cauldron.

She was correct, but Amren kept it to herself, not wanting to speak of what she discovered, nor how Seraphina scent changed when Amren cut her. No, she'd save that secret for another time.

Sunday was spent with just Azriel, his body desperate for hers, he had warded the door, wrapping her legs around his waist as he fucked her slow and deep, relishing in each breathy whisper of his name.

Sharing her had been fun, but the male had been jealous all week, almost territorial as he her heard moaning another's name. They had both wanted to try an open relationship, and they had both loved it, but they found their limitations.

Azriel groaned as Sera tightened around him, her back arching her breasts into him. “So good, Sera,” she whimpered at his praise, legs wrapping tighter as she lifted her hips more. “I've heard all week how delicious you are, you know that?” She whined as he hit the spot no one had found all week. “But who fucks you best?”

“You.”

His pace picked up, now slamming into that same spot until her vision began to blur with tears. “Who's Mate are you?”

“Yours.”

She could feel that familiar edge. Azriel always brought her to approaching, head buried in his neck as it did, and nails clawing into his back. “Cum. Cum for me, Sera.”

And she did, body so worn and sensitive from endless fucking that she came, moaning and crying his name over and over like a prayer. He spilled into her, biting her neck as he did to leave a bruise, marking his territory and who she belonged to.

He collapsed above her, forearms falling next to her face. He placed soft kisses on her cheekbones, nose, and then lips, smiling as he did. “Good week?”

“The best.”

“Feelings on keeping our relationship open?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “Gods, yes.”

“I think so too.”

"You've ruined me, you know that?

Azriel kissed her shoulder. "Ruined you or freed you?"

"Freed," she said slowly. "I think you've freed me. Having no limitations on sex is-"

"Liberating?"

She nodded, kissing him again. "Liberating."

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria

Poly+ACOTAR Week Taglist

@amara-moonlight @toporecall @littlestw01f @prettylittlewrites @anuttellaa @nayaniasworld @123345566

#acotar #acotar x oc #polyamorous visibility #consensual non monogamy #poly+acotarweek 2024 #poly+acotarweek #poly+acotarweek2024 #poly+acotarweek day7 #poly+acotar week d7 #all the ships almost

[uravitypng]

𝐢'𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

pairing: bakusquad x chubby reader (katsuki bakugo + hanta sero + mina ashido + eijiro kirishima + denki kaminari)

word count: 4.4k words

a/n: definitely haven't been working on this for months <33 this turned out more fluffy than intended for a free use fic asdfghj. basically they all need to be dating!!! none of the bakusquad have any contact with each other... yet... idk i might make a part two where they're not just taking turns but all together with the reader

content warnings: free use, unprotected vaginal sex, oral (f!recieving & m!recieving), vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, cockwarming, groping, biting, dumbification, slight breeding mention, somno, wlw, spanking, petnames - mdni (like my whole tumblr)

when becoming friends and roommates with the bakusquad you didn't realise what it would exactly entail. becoming friends with five successful pro heroes while you're a civilian is something you would never expect, not in your wildest dreams, so it's not a surprise to you that your feelings for them grew with each day and after a particular turn of events you let them use you however they wanted. if they want to take out their frustrations of a stressful day by roughly fucking you than you're more than willing to oblige to their request or if they want to tenderly make love to you after an emotional and exhausting day you're more than willing to oblige- you're their toy after all.

they'll use you anywhere and anywhen, it doesn't matter if you're in public or if you're sleeping, you've given them your full consent.

the first time it happened was with katsuki. he was angry and annoyed and you didn't know what to do, you've never truly seen him like this before and you haven't been friends with him as long as the others have been friends with him, you didn't want to make it worse. ideally you would ask the others what you should do but they were all busy working.

you later found out a journalist cornered him after a minor rescuing incident and asked him more intrusive questions than normal and that day it got to him more than normal too. for some reason the press always seems to ask him more personal questions than other heroes you know and you can't figure out why but you have a few ideas: to see his reaction, to get more information about his private life from him because he's one of the more secretive heroes, or to see his 'real' personality wondering if everything they see in public is all just an image.

"i'm sorry katsuki. is there anything i can do to make you feel a bit better?" you ask him and in less then ten seconds he's pinned you against the wall and is biting your bottom lip making you moan, giving him the opportunity to move his tongue into your mouth, intertwining your tongues and muffling any surprised noises that threaten to come out of you. you feel his large callus palms run all over your body as he pushes up your shirt and touches every single part of his skin he can get his hands on, leaving bruises and pretty marks to decorate your equally pretty body.

katsuki shoves his hand underneath your underwear, not bothering to take off your clothes and fingers you until you start screaming his name and your vision begins to go blurry.

"holy shit katsuki. feel's so good." he pumps two of his thick fingers inside of you and his ego soars as he not only feels how wet you are but hears it too as your cunt squelches and you clench around his fingers. he smirks as you come undone on his fingers chanting his name over and over again, your fists gripping onto his shirt tightly.

"this'll make me feel better," he grunts and tries to press his body closer to yours than it already was, your tits now completely pressed against him. "god shitty woman how oblivious can ya be? swear you're useless sometimes. a fucking dumbass." if you were someone else you might have taken offence to him calling you shitty woman or useless especially in the position you're currently in but you're use to him calling you names by now knowing he doesn't mean them negatively, if anything they're affectionate, most of the time he'll call people extras and you're glad he doesn't see you as an extra.

"oblivious?"

katsuki grits his teeth, "shut up," he grunts and you feel his hardened cock against your thigh, he slams his lips against yours again and starts kissing you even more furiously, if you didn't know better you'd say passionately but you don't think he'd ever kiss you passionately.

he sees your eyes glazed over with a daze on your face and smirks. his hand goes behind you to cups the curve of your ass then slaps with the sound echoing against the walls, making you whine. you feel the humidity that's resting on his palms and your whole body tingles imaging him using his quirk (controlled) on you.

"no one else has made ya feel this good have they sweetheart?" he asks gruffly already knowing the answer.

"no, no one else 'suki. no one has ever made me ever feel this good!" you reply honestly, tears starting to fill your waterline.

he knows you're being honest and if anything you're being more forgiving of your previous sexual encounters and talking more favourable about your past sexual partners than they deserve. "fuckin' criminal."

after what happened with katsuki you sat down with your friends and told them that you give them your consent to use you whenever. katsuki looked so much calmer after and his body looked more relaxed, less tension. you couldn't help but think that your other friends would be the same.

you were bashful the whole time while speaking, mumbling and looking away, your whole face felt like it were on fire but you were offering to help them all, you knew how stressful their work is and you wanted to help.

you want them, you wouldn't tell them that part though, neither did you ever have to think hard on your proposal.

all of them loved the idea, why wouldn't they? they're madly in love with you. over time all of them fell in love with you but none of them would ever make a move on you not willing to lose or jeopardise the friendship they have with you nor are they willing to make a move while knowing how the others feel about you either. you're sweet, and kind, and beautiful, and brilliant, and a hundred million more things that make you special in their eyes.

none of them thought they would ever get the chance to be with you in any such way, romantic or sexual, and they were more then content with being your friend, strictly platonic, but now they get to be your friend and they get to sleep with you, they're ecstatic.

hanta likes cockwarming with you, every single chance he gets he pulls you onto his lap and onto his cock without warning and puts on a movie to watch as he watches you squirm and try to keep still but it's so hard keeping still when the longest dick you've ever seen is inside of you and you feel it throbbing.

hanta sees you struggling and grins as you shift around and whimper quietly. you're biting your hand to try to keep silent but it's ineffective. "hush princesa, i'm trying to watch the film." he says teasingly, holding onto your plush waist to keep you from moving and lifts up your top, caressing your soft skin making you get goosebumps from the sensation of his cold rings touching you.

occasionally he'll lazily thrust up into you, making you squeak, he'll chuckle at the noises you make and get off on how needy you are for him. "you look so beautiful sitting on my lap mi amor," your heart flutters and your face heats up whenever he calls you affectionate names in his first language and especially when he calls you my love, "but aren't you suppose to be pleasing me? you seem very needy and demanding for someone who has offered their body to me." you shudder as he speaks, still with his hand caressing your body.

you look at him and pout, causing his grin to widen. "not my fault, you feel really good."

hanta's voice drops lower and becomes husky while he leans closer to you, "yeah?"

you nod your head and try to wrap your arms around him, admittedly unsuccessfully from the position you're currently in as you're facing away from him to 'watch' the movie with him, making hanta chuckle. "yeah," you reply.

hanta smirks as he looks down at you over your shoulder and tenderly strokes your arm, "beg me to move." with no hesitation you beg.

with everyone else they'll take what they want from you and get you to come as many times as they want (if they do want you to cum) without you having to beg but hanta is different, he'll make you cry and beg for him. no matter how horny he is he'll wait for you to become putty in his hands as you cry buried in the crook of his neck, trying to grind against him and wetting his shoulder with your tears, pleading for anything he gives you. he loves seeing you cry for him and plead for his cock.

you're always so pliant for him and he likes to make you even more pliant. as your reward for listening to him he grabs your wide hips and starts to move you up and down, harshly, making the ability to breathe leave your body momentarily at the sudden movement all while cooing at you, albeit condescendingly. "awe does that feel good princesa? you finding it hard to take it all?" he grins as you tip your head back and rests it on his shoulder, your moans getting louder, unable to respond and form a coherent sentence.

you feel like you feel him all the way in throat, a completely impossible thought of course but it's hard to think otherwise with each time he slams you back down and your pelvis meets his it's making you lose every braincell you have with how good you feel and how good he fills you up.

"open up," you compliantly open your mouth still in a daze and hanta spits in your mouth, grinning as he watches you swallow it without any prior audible command to do so already knowing from previous liaisons.

his pace changes, every so often becoming quicker with shallow thrusts than back to a regular pace with deeper thrusts just to tease you and make you light headed, not knowing what to expect next. his groans become more audible and he grips onto you tighter, his blunt nails making a crescent imprint on your hips. "s-shit hanta i can't, too much."

"i thought you were my good girl. you were begging for me only awhile ago." he smirks, starting to get close.

"i am! i am your good girl, promise! just 's a lot."

he chuckles at your obedience, you really are his good girl, made for him- and the others.

but he does wonder if you're that obedient with them as you are with him.

he purposefully slows down his pace and wraps one arm around your supple middle keeping you bouncing and tilts your chin up to look at him with his other hand before placing a gentle chaste kiss on your lips.

mina seizes every opportunity to lay lingering wet kisses down your neck all the way to your chest. you get goosebumps as you feel her breath against your skin and feel the sticky lipgloss left over from her lips.

mina never wears lipstick but she's nearly always seen wearing lipgloss and they're always flavoured ones, enjoying the look of how the sticky remnant remains on your skin after being transferred from her lips and how you seemingly unconsciously swipe your tongue out over your own lips afterwards to taste the flavour that remains.

whenever a man comes onto her apparently not understanding the word 'no' she comes straight to you afterwards so she can feel you up and touch your soft body and curves. you're so much better than anyone else and she's so glad that you let her touch you however and whenever she wants.

beforehand when someone was so persisted that it grossed her out she still would come to see you, you were roommates and very close friends after all. mina would complain about them and you would listen and bash them because how dare they keep being so disrespectful, unable to be take a hint or handle rejection.

the entire time when mina used to talk about them she'd think about how soft your lips looked, how good her hand would look wrapped around your throat and how she wants to go down on you so bad that you pull her hair and more importantly squeeze your thighs together in between her head.

"such a sweet little thing for me," she tells you and kisses your ankle. you whimper and she opens up your thighs wider for now, wanting to get a good look at your pretty pussy. mina flicks her tongue up against your pussy lips making a shiver run down your spine before her tongue enters into your soaking hole, moaning at your taste and your aroma, making her dizzy in the process. you can't help but squeal and shudder at the sensation as her eyes gleam with every new noise you make. she removes her tongue from inside of you, the sweet taste still lingering on her tongue. she flicks her tongue up again, curling two fingers back into you and starts sucking on your clit.

the pleasure builds up inside of you with every curl of her fingers, "that's a good girl, come for me," mina mumbles against your clit and you squeeze your thighs with mina's head between them, not being able to stop yourself as you're about to come again for the third time in an hour.

"oh fuck, min-" the last syllable of mina's name is silenced in an inaudible groan as the coil in your stomach snapped and you unravelled where she helped to ride out your orgasm still between your doughy thighs.

now she gets her wish whenever she wants as she's able to look up to see how your voluptuous body shakes. she gets to feel how soft and warm your thick thighs feel wrapped around her head.

as you calm down from another intense orgasm you move to look at mina, "what about you?" hinting that you desperately want to return the favour.

she can see the neediness in your eyes and giggles. "i can't right now sweet pea, i've got to go to work."

"already?"

mina giggles again, "i'll be back soon babes then we can carry on from where we left off, okay?" she smiles brightly and takes her leave feeling equalling as needy as you but who can blame her when she spent the last hour pleasuring you and feeling your plump body underneath hers and getting you see your gorgeous face scrunched up in pleasure. mina doesn't mind the needy feeling though as the look on your face is worth it as she leaves because she knows when she comes back home you'll make her feel just as good as she made you feel.

eijiro works nights a lot of the time which means typically you get woken up by him. this means most nights you sleep with only a nightie on or a baggy pyjama shirt foregoing underwear or pyjama bottoms so eijiro doesn't have to worry about fiddling with any layers and pulling them down. the only exemptions about the clothes are when it's particularly cold that night.

after work he'll want to feel your soft body squish in between his fingers as he presses down on your malleable skin, groping you wherever he can get his hands on and pumping his girthy cock in his other hand a couple times, wanting to be buried in that sweet cunt that he loves so much so it's no surprise to you to be woken up to his grunts and gentle thrusts.

whenever you do wake up he feels guilty. he knows you need, and like your sleep and he never intended to wake you up so he strokes the sides of your body and softly tells you to go back to bed while kissing your temple.

sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't, but no matter the outcome of trying to get you to go back to sleep your body always has the same reaction, mewls and moans leaving your body involuntarily and you becoming more and more wet with each thrust that it's dripping down to your thick thighs.

the times when you don't fall back to sleep you don't move much, very much a pillow princess in those moments but that's what eijiro prefers. he likes looking after you and treating you like the princess you are. he enjoys doing all the work so when you do wake up all you can do is rub your eyes sleepily and moan louder while he tries to shush you because no doubt someone has to be up in a few hours for patrol.

"p-please," you whine but you don't know what you're begging for. eijiro knows though as he pushes the remaining inches of his cock inside of you, you both hiss, and he slowly and deeply starts moving in you. you grab hold of his muscular forearms and whine about the pleasurable stretch.

you turn your head to the side so your neck is bare. he knows what you want more than your tired words can mumble out so he turns your neck further to the side than you did to keep you still and bites down, not hard enough to cause serious pain and break your skin but enough to hurt slightly and cause you to gasp, your mind momentarily going blank and your hips to jerk up.

before you started sleeping with eijiro you didn't know you liked the sensation of getting bitten so much until he bit you to keep himself quiet while at a very lively party. normally he wouldn't mind people hearing how good he makes you feel and vise versa but there was a minority of people at that party who were all trying to make a new hero commission and he didn't want to to draw attention to you or him with those people, knowing what the last commission did. even though you are just a civilian he wants to make sure they stay well away from you but still that wasn't enough to drag you into an empty room and fuck you until you couldn't stand after seeing how beautiful you looked that night.

ever since then biting became involved in your sex life. eijiro knew he liked biting people before you, he enjoys the surprised gasps and how bodies move but with you it's completely different, it's on a whole new level with how plump your body is, it's like heaven. no matter where he bites you there's always some part he can sink his teeth into making your body beautifully buck up uncontrollably. the whole experience and sensation making him groan and the noises you always make in bed are like no over- ethereal, just like the rest of you.

when he hears the slapping sound of your two bodies making contact get louder and louder and sees the creamy ring left over from each thrust he has to hold onto you tighter, gripping hold of your love handles, enough to leave bruises, and looking up at the ceiling not wanting to cum yet. he knows as soon as he looks down at your cute face or perfect body he'll immediately orgasm so to try and make himself last longer he'll look up.

that on top of the quicker pace and him touching your clit, just the way you like it, makes you come. you clench around him and moan words incomprehensibly causing him to come too as he feels you get tighter around him.

"gonna clean you up in a second baby just let me stay inside you for awhile." at this point you're both falling asleep, he wraps his muscular arms around you tighter and manhandles your chubby body so you're laying on top of him, your arm on his chest and your face in his neck, the whole time making sure his dick doesn't accidentally slip out of you. even though you're semi conscious you know that you're going to be sleeping like this all night, both of you are too tired to move, with your last moments of consciousness being your slow blinks that you use to gaze up at eijiro admiring how handsome he is, you like when his hair is down after showering because without it being styled to be spiky you can see his roots coming through, red mixing with his natural black, even now when he's half asleep and ready for bed he looks just as handsome as he does at any fancy hero event he attends. "you feel too good to get up and leave and anyway i've got to plug you full, breed you properly to make sure it sticks." he mumbles against your forehead half asleep, drifting off only a minute or so after.

out of everyone denki is the one to touch you the most, if no one else is kissing you he's taking the opportunity to kiss you and hold you all over. he's the most emotional and vulnerable when it comes to sex too. he feels safe around you, to let his carefree persona down and to be sensitive and vulnerable, just staying fully in the moment with you.

the first time you slept together, you kissed his chest all the way to his hips making his hips buck up. he had wanted you so bad for so long and now he finally had you.

originally, you had stroked his cock for the first time and you heard a string of moans and it immediately turned you on more than you already were. as he got closer to his release he said breathy, "please don't stop, this will probably be the only chance i ever get to touch you." it had shocked you not realising that he felt that way but you didn't stop, doing what you were told, and knowing you were going to talk to him after.

not long after, he came and you threw your arms around him, arms wrapped around his neck and clinging onto him. he was still catching his breath, "do you really think this was a one time thing denki? i told you all before that i want to do this." he blushed and squished your cheeks, a habit he had picked up on doing recently at the time, you swat his hands away and giggle, denki smiles.

denki is also the most possessive which surprised you, if you thought anyone would be possessive your guess would be katsuki but it's really denki. he gets jealous when you spend more time with the others than you do with him and will want your attention. it's even more noticeable when it comes to other people who aren't in the bakusquad.

if you ever smile too cheerfully at someone, laugh too loudly at someone's jokes or if someone flirts with you he gets extremely jealous, you never flirt back though, you have everything you need and sometimes you don't even realise they were flirting in the first place.

at times like that denki is the most vulnerable. as soon as you both get home he's kissing you tenderly and holding you like fragile treasured glass in his arms. most of the time he takes you to the bedroom and lays you on the bed but this time he pushes your head down gently and you fall to you knees carefully. "do you need a cushion babe?"

your heart warms at how considerate he is. you look up at him and shake your head, "i'm okay," you smile up at him and you don't miss the way his cheeks are dusted pink. unzipping his jeans and pulling them down, along with his boxers that already are wet with precum leaking from his cock, you kiss his thigh and stare at his .

denki holds onto your head as you part your lips and open your mouth, taking him in your mouth. you hollow your cheeks and grab a hold of his thighs. he keeps his hips still no matter how much he wants to rut inside your wonderful wet and warm mouth. when his hips do occasionally buck it makes you gag before he corrects himself and pushes back against the wall trying to control himself not to pound up into you, he wants you to control the pace. the moans that he makes as you take him further only spur you on as your pace gets quicker and your nose presses against his lean stomach momentarily before having to leave and gasp for air. denki may not be as thick as eijiro or as long as hanta but he's still big, more than people would assume, he's bigger than average (only if slightly.) denki's arm rests of his head while he takes deep breaths.

"fuck babe that was-" you cut him off as you take him in your mouth again and wrap your lips around him and you hollow your cheeks once again. his moans and groans become more frequent and you can tell that he's about to come.

his grip get's tighter while resting on your head and his groans get deeper. "gonna come, you swallow alright babe." you hum in confirmation, "shit, shit, shit," his eyebrows pinch together and his hot cum sprays in ropes at the back of your throat and you mourn not being able to properly fully taste him. denki lifts you up by your elbows and when you come face-to-face you kiss his cheek, he's not satisfied with that though and he passionately makes out with you not caring that he just came in your mouth and is holding onto your plush waist while grinning against your lips. "bedroom." he whispers in your ear making you shudder at the demanding tone he used, not often does he use it but whenever he does... well it makes your whole body tingle.

#♡ mine / writing #bakusquad x reader smut #katsuki bakugo x reader smut #hanta sero x reader smut #mina ashido x reader smut #eijiro kirishima x reader smut #denki kaminari x reader smut #chubby reader #chubby reader smut #bnha x reader smut #mha x reader smut #bnha x chubby reader smut #bakusquad smut #♡ katsuki #♡ kiri #♡ denki #♡ hanta #♡ mina #♡ multi #bakusquad x reader #katsuki bakugou smut #hanta sero smut #mina ashido smut #eijiro kirishima smut #denki kaminari smut #mina ashido x f!reader

[caffeinewitchcraft]

Dandelion (A Villain Story)

You stub your toe and the mind control breaks.

Your power snaps from the shock and the hundred or so clones you’d been controlling disappear with a pop! You hold your breath as the steel they’d been carrying clangs loudly in the cavernous room. You’re the only one in this sector but that was loud. If by some miracle nobody heard that, surely your abductor will notice you’re free any moment now—

Devil Eyes doesn’t notice.

You cover your mouth with both hands, pressing so hard that your teeth creak. There’s a hysterical giggle struggling to claw its way up your throat. You’ve been shot, stabbed, and beaten, but this is what it takes to break Devil Eyes’ control? Your pinky toe throbbing after kicking a stray steel beam?

Fuck, that’s funny.

You breathe in through your nose slowly. Only when your lungs hurt worse than your toe from how much air you’re holding in them do you release your mouth. You breathe out in six quick bursts. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

You’re free.

Holy shit, you’re free! How long has it been? Six months? Eight? You know it’s not summer anymore, but Devil Eyes has had you working in the depths of his lair for weeks now and you’ve lost track of time. That’s fine though, you’re pretty sure you’re still in Arizona and there’s sunshine even in winter. Your breath hitches in your chest. The sun! Oh, the sun, you want to see the sun so bad and now you can because you’re free--

Don’t cry. Don’t make a sound. Assess. Act.

Escape.

You’re in the delivery sector. There are piles of steel everywhere you look, tossed this way and that so that it looks like a giant failed game of Jenga. Your clones were carrying the beams from the truck in the docking bay to the appropriate facilities deeper into the mountain when they disappeared. Ha! Fat chance Devil Eyes finishes construction without you around. You’re the only reason this mountain lair is even possible. It would serve him right to spend so long stealing materials only to have nobody around to do the hard work for him.

That’s why I need to escape.

Spite is what keeps you moving. The truck driver is gone. He’s a real minion of Devil Eyes, not a brainwashed one like you. That means he’s probably in the living sector enjoying the benefits of willing servitude. Benefits like soda. And beds. And those little pillow mints they give you at hotels.

Your mouth waters.

Don’t you dare go back for a pillow mint, you scold yourself. It doesn’t matter how bad you’ve been craving one, forced to set them out and never allowed to eat one. You have the chance to escape and you’re going to take it.

You climb into the cab of the truck. The driver took his keys with him, but you’re a villain. You have the engine turning over in less than five minutes, the bed of the truck detached within three, the seat and mirrors adjusted in less than one.

Ten minutes after stubbing your toe, you’re driving out of the mountain and into the deepest of Arizona nights. Nobody sounds any alarms. Nobody starts shooting at you. How could they? You were the one manning the graveyard shift in the security room. You were the one at the turrets. You were the one doing it all while Devils Eyes and his crew slept.

The stars stretch above you. You crack the windows of the truck and suck in the fresh air greedily. Your eyes burn.

Not yet, you think. Your eyes smart and you bite your lip until the lump in your throat goes away. Not yet. As a villain, you’ve always made it a point not to let your guard down until the job is done.

This job isn’t anywhere near done.

----------,

Getting into one of Hero Force’s headquarters is either the best thing to happen to a villain or the worst.

Breaking into one is a badge of honor, especially if you’re able to get away with a trophy. Information, a hostage, even a paperclip. Anything that proves you were there and they couldn’t stop you from doing whatever you wanted.

Getting taken into Headquarters is a nightmare. It means you’ve been caught and caught good. Getting taken into Headquarters means the end of a masked villain’s career. Hero Force knows who you are from that point on and, even if you escape, they’re not going to lose track of you any time soon.

You’re not sure what walking into one is. A disgrace? An act of stupidity?

You park your truck illegally and push both doors open at the same time just a little after sunrise.

“Hello,” you say to the receptionist. He’s wearing the characteristic black mask of Hero Force personnel and you wait until his brown eyes shift from his computer to you before continuing. "I’ve been held captive by the villain Devil Eyes for the last six or eight months and I’d like to talk to somebody about it.”

“Pardon?” the receptionist asks. His fingers are frozen over his keyboard. “You—pardon?”

“I don’t know what month it is,” you say. Abruptly you realize you’re not wearing a mask. A chill shudders down your spine. Devil Eyes knows what you look like and now Hero Force does too. You are so fucked, you’re going to need to flee the country-- Think about it later. “So I don’t know how long I was brainwashed for.”

“Brainwashed?”

“By Devil Eyes,” you say. When the receptionist continues to stare at you, you shift your weight from side to side. “I-I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but is there someone higher up I could speak to?”

It turns out there is. The receptionist is only too happy to call them for you and things move very quickly after that.

They take you to the fifth floor of headquarters and into a very nice conference room. The receptionist brings you coffee, water, and a fresh change of clothes. He doesn’t bring you pillow mints when you ask but makes up for it by fishing out a crushed granola bar from the inner pocket of his blazer.

“This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten,” you say. Crumbs tumble from your lips and onto the oak table. “Fuck.” You lick your fingers and pick them up as best you can, scooping them into your mouth as you go.

“We’ll have something delivered,” he says, eyes skittering away from you. “It’ll probably arrive before Arctic—”

“No, it won’t.”

You twist in your seat, granola bar stuffed in your cheeks. Arctic is standing in the doorway in full costume, sans cape. Her slate grey eyes study you a moment before she steps into the room. Rag Doll, her second in command, follows silently behind. Unlike his boss, he’s half in his civvies– jeans and long-sleeved Henley that shows off the extra joints in his arms and legs. His patchwork mask does little to hide the bags under his eyes.

“Ma’am,” the receptionist says. He’s flustered in the presence of the A-rank heroes, you can see it. He sketches out a bow and then seems to think better of it, jerking ramrod straight and shuffling towards the door. “I’ll leave you to it.”

Arctic watches him go with one pale brow raised.

As soon as the door shuts, Rag Doll sighs. “It’s his first day.”

“He didn’t get their name, did not relay a proper history, and called me ma’am,” Arctic says in her heavy drawl. She frowns and smooths her white hair away from her face. “That’s three strikes.”

“Wait until he watches all the HR videos before you start handing out strikes.”

“He should have finished those before he was stationed at the front door.” Arctic strides around the table and takes the seat at the head without looking at you. She pulls out a notebook from her utility belt, flipping to a blank page, and then finally looks at you. “Do you need another granola bar?”

Oh. She was stalling until you could finish eating. A smile comes to your face unbidden. “I missed your southern charm, Arctic.”

Arctic drops her pen.

Rag Doll, halfway into his seat, freezes. He stares at you with wide eyes. “Virus?”

Oh yeah. You used to compliment Arctic’s Southern manners a lot before Devil Eyes got you. “Long time no see.”

“Long time—it’s been a year,” Rag Doll says incredulously.

“You look awful,” Arctic says without a bit of manners to be found.

“A year?” The room swims. Since the wallpaper kind of reminds you of bile anyway it’s no surprise what happens next. “Fuck.”

You throw up.

------------------.

“I was going on the straight and narrow,” you’re saying an hour later. You’re in a different conference room, this one on the third floor. The walls are a nice, soothing blue and there’s a vanilla air freshener plugged into the wall. “I really was.”

“You’ve been with Devil Eyes this whole time?” Rag Doll asks. He’s seated across from you, leaning forward onto his elbows. He’d stopped Arctic from putting the power suppressors on you. She agreed when he pointed out they might kill you in your fragile state. “There’s never been any indication he can hold someone that long.”

“Well, he can,” you say. You wordlessly accept the tea Arctic slides across the table. The heat of it shocks you in the best way. You drink greedily, relishing in the warmth as it slides down your throat. “And not just one person. He could hold me and five of my clones at first. Then ten. Then twenty.”

“But your clones are you,” Arctic says. She refuses to sit, standing behind Rag Doll. She crosses her arms. “It’s impressive he was able to hold you that long, but it was just you.”

“Impressive?” You laugh without humor. “I’m not exactly impressed.”

“She didn’t mean anything by it,” Rag Doll says. He looks over his shoulder at Arctic and, when she nods, he continues. “It’s just that, from what we know about your powers, holding you and your clones would be the same as holding one person.”

“It’s not,” you say. You’re giving away too much information about your powers, but you don’t care. Devil Eyes needs to be stopped. “Every one of my clones is an exact replica of me. An exact autonomous replica of me. Otherwise, I’d have to be some sort of supercomputer to control them all.”

“You’re not?” Rag Doll asks. His voice is light, like it used to be during your fights. Teasing banter.

You’re not in the mood for banter.

“No,” you say shortly. “If I was, I wouldn’t have been caught.”

Rag Doll sobers. “How did that happen?”

“I was getting out of the game,” you say. You wipe the back of your mouth. The tea is sitting better than the granola bar, but you’re still feeling unsteady. You clear your throat. “I should have just disappeared, but I didn’t. I let a few of the locals know I was going to be leaving. Stupid of me. Stupider when I agreed to come to the goodbye party they were throwing.”

“Locals?” Arctic asks. Her voice is smooth and cold. “Which locals?”

You shrug. “Dreadwatt. The Ice Twins were in town back then, they said they’d stop by.” Your lip curls. “Devil Eyes.”

“That doesn’t sound like a very fun party,” Rag Doll says.

“No.” You didn’t think so either. But how do you explain that they were the only people who thought your low-level villainy meant something? Heroes and civilians just found your antics annoying. Villains found your schemes clever. “It was a way to mark the end of an era.”

“What were you going to do after?” Rag Doll asks.

Were. You can’t get mad at the past tense. You’re sitting in Hero Headquarters without a mask. Arctic has probably memorized every single one of your freckles. Even if she hasn’t, Devil Eyes knows your face. There’s no way you get to retire to an honest life now. “I was going to be a librarian.”

Rag Doll perks up. “You like to read? What genre?”

“Mostly science fiction.”

“Me too! Have you read—”

“Devil Eyes got you at the party?” Arctic interrupts. She shoots Rag Doll a chiding look and claims the seat next to him. She fixes you with her chilling gaze. “That right?”

“Yeah.” You don’t remember the moment it happened. That’s the scariest part. It took you weeks to be able to feel Devil Eyes’ control. Until then, everything still felt like your choice. “He had me start construction on his lair about a month after that. He was sure his control would hold by then.”

That makes Arctic lean forward. “His new lair? You’ve been there?”

You grin bitterly. “I’m the one who dug it out.”

“Dug it out? It’s underground?”

“Some of it.”

“Where?” Arctic flips open her notepad. “We know it’s east of the city and, judging by the truck you arrived in, it’s in the deep desert. Can you give us coordinates?”

“I’m pretty good with stars,” you say. Even now you can remember the exact position of them the moment you left the mountain. “I know exactly where it is.”

Arctic can’t hide the impatience in her voice. “Where?”

“Not so fast,” you say. You lean back, crossing your arms. Your heart pounds against your ribs. “I want a deal.”

Arctic snarls. “You don’t understand what’s at stake—”

Rag Doll puts a hand on her arm, quieting her. He smiles at you. “Now, Virus, you know—”

“Don’t call me that.”

Rag Doll blinks. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t call me Virus,” you say. Your skin itches and you dig your nails into your arms to keep from scratching. Devil Eyes called you Virus. “I retired. I’m not Virus.”

“Then what would you like us to call you?”

Your mind scatters. “I don’t know. Not that.”

“Alright,” Rag Doll says gently. He waits a moment and, when you don’t offer up anything else, says, "You know we can't offer immunity agreements. Foresight would have to be here for that and we don’t have time for him to fly down from New York. What I can do—”

“I don’t want immunity,” you interrupt.

“You don’t?”

“You don’t?” Arctic echoes. She frowns, seemingly shaking off her impatience. “You’ll still be charged with your previous crimes, Viru—sorry. You’ll still be charged with your previous crimes.”

“That’s fine.” It’s not. You rub your arms, fingertips worrying at the half moon indents your nails bit into your skin. It’s the price you’re willing to pay to take down Devil Eyes. “That’s fine. I’ll pay for those. But I want to be there when you raid his lair. I want to be there when you catch him.”

“That’s too dangerous,” Rag Doll says immediately. He shakes his head. “Arctic and I both have mental defenses, but you don’t. We know your power and now, knowing the extent of it, we can’t risk having him turn you again. It’d be like facing an army—”

“You’ll need an army against him,” you interrupt again. You press a hand against your chest. “I know how many minions he has. I know the layout. I know the location. You need me.”

“But if he gains control of you again—”

“He can only control twenty of me,” you say. You’re feverish and jittery so you stand. You pound your hand against your chest. “Only twenty, so I’ll be a hundred of me. I’ll be so many that those he manages to ensnare won’t stand a chance against the rest. I can do it. I can be more than he can handle. He got the jump on me but he won’t again.”

Arctic furrows her brow. “A hundred? You can make that many clones?”

You laugh darkly. You weren’t a good villain. Your goals were always too small. Robbing a grocery store, taking over the local theater, stealing the water from the water tower. They don’t know what you can do. “I can do more than you know. I can do more than Devil Eyes knows.”

Silence fills the room as the heroes think. The air freshener sprays a new puff of vanilla.

Rag Doll clears his throat. “If we let you come—”

“Rag Doll!”

“—if ,” Rag Doll emphasizes to Arctic. To you he says, “You won’t kill anyone?”

Of course I’m going to— “No,” you say. You cross your fingers under the table. “It’s just….” You look down at the wood grain. You say in a small voice, “I had to escape alone.”

Whatever protest Arctic was about to voice dies on her lips. “There were others there?” Her gaze sharpens, a bloodhound on a scent. “Who? Where?”

Aha. You guessed right. Arctic is patient. Arctic is polite. She’s been neither of those things during this conversation. What she has been is impatient and demanding. Devil Eyes has someone Arctic cares about. Devil Eyes might even have a hero from Arctic’s team.

“I didn’t see them,” you whisper. You glance up from under your lashes to find the heroes hanging onto your every word. “But I know where he keeps them.” You bite your lip. “I—I shouldn’t have left them there. I know what it’s like being under his control. I know what he does.” You sit upright, meeting their eyes unflinchingly. “I want to save them. I’ll pay for my crimes after, I swear. I won’t run. But Devil Eyes needs to be stopped.” You let your voice crack. “Please. I need to help stop him.”

Arctic softens. “Virus—sorry. Please, is there anything else I can call you?”

Your lip trembles. “My mother called me Dandelion.”

“Dandelion,” Arctic says. “That’s lovely. Dandelion, I understand how you feel. I don’t think—”

Rag Doll stops her with a hand on her arm. “Arctic? Can we talk in the hall?”

“Of course.”

You watch the heroes leave the room. As soon as the door closes, your lip stops trembling. Your shoulders straighten. Your eyes stop glistening.

Rag Doll and Arctic will argue for ten minutes. You’re a former villain and, despite your lack of real villainy in your history, you can’t be trusted. You know Devil Eyes’ hideout, but you’re also fresh out from his control. You’re powerful, but that power can be turned against them.

But those arguments will only last ten minutes. The reality is that they don’t have a choice. You're not going to give them the location without being allowed to tag along. They don’t have time to wait for Foresight or even the Mind Squad who specialize in dealing with mental powers like Devil Eyes’. They’re heroes and the villain has one of their own. They have to act.

You settle back in your chair. They’ll agree to your terms. Your stomach twists. It’s nauseating to think about going back there. A year. Devil Eyes stole a year from you.

You hide your grin as the door opens.

“Alright. Let’s get you kitted out. You’re coming with us, Dandelion.”

You’ll be stealing a lot more from him.

Then instead of crying, maybe you’ll be laughing.

Only one way to find out.

--------

Thanks for reading! I love mind powers in the Superhero universe but they sure are a pain to write!

If you’d like to read stories like this or like others on my blog a week before I post them here, please consider supporting me on Patreon (X)

Next week’s story is already up! Summary:

Sometimes, when things go very wrong, the Chosen One gets a wish. That’s where Danielle comes in. TW blood, death, violence, child death

Thanks again for reading!

#my writing #mind control #violence #librarians are crafty af #and somewhat criminal #for good reason! #my superpowers #superheroes #original short story #second person

[autumnywinter]

Runaway - Yandere!Vox

TW: Abusive behavior, hypnosis, suggestive, dubious consent implied

Reader is gender neutral

It was a miracle you managed to escape Vox. Not literally. Miracles aren't a thing in Hell, especially not for you. It was a fluke, a mistake on Vox's part, a happy accident that you took full advantage of. It was luck that he happened to have business in another ring on that specific day. You were able to slip out without him noticing, or any of the Vees for that matter.

Not that they really cared to begin with, only to avoid Vox's rage. They both acknowledged you, but as nothing but Vox's pet. That's what you felt like, so they weren't entirely wrong.

And now you were trying your best to avoid him, making your way through the Ring of Pride. You weren't sure where to go, just far away from Vox as possible.

It had been three days since your escape, and you hadn't heard anything about it on the news. But that was more because you were scared to stand next to any TV screen that wasn't bolted down and already turned off.

So you kept your head down, hood up, and tried to think of a plan.

You weren't sure how Vox would react when he finally found you. Well, angry, obviously. Furious even. Would he hypnotize you again? Probably. Not before ripping you a new one. He had never laid a hand on you, but that didn't mean he wouldn't now.

His constant surveillance would make it borderline impossible for something like this to happen again. You couldn't afford to fuck it up.

You felt like an animal on the run. A rat in a maze. Everything you did was to avoid him. It was too exhausting. And dangerous. You couldn't get enough rest to make up for it.

There were so many ways this could go wrong. And so many ways it could go worse. You were ready for anything, willing to do anything to stay away from him. You felt like you were at the end of your rope, but you didn't have any rope left, and you were starting to fall off the ledge.

You had no one. There was no one you could turn to for help, not here. Even if anyone took pity on you, no one would be willing to piss off an Overlord.

But you knew you couldn't keep this up forever. There was no way for you to leave the ring, and Vox had cameras everywhere. Honestly, you're surprised you even still had freedom. Not that it felt like it.

Maybe he wasn't looking for you at all. Maybe he was just waiting for you to come crawling back to him. Or maybe he was watching you right now, waiting for you to slip up so he could swoop in and reclaim you.

One thing you knew Vox would avoid at all costs was to ruin his reputation. He cared far too much about that. So he probably wouldn't want to advertise that his little pet had escaped from his leash. You imagined that was the only reason you were free, or else there'd be a bounty on your head right now.

As you trudged through the streets of Pride, you turned a corner and saw who you recognized as Vox's bodyguards. Though he had tons of them, you knew most of them. Whenever he was gone for business purposes, there'd always be at least two keeping a close eye on you.

Your heart pounded and you felt a wave of dread. But they hadn't seen you yet, and the sidewalk was crowded enough that you could quickly hide in the bustle. You tried to look as inconspicuous as possible while keeping your eyes on them. They seemed to be looking around, checking the crowd for something. Looking for you, you thought.

The crowd dissipated, but a little too soon. There were several more bodyguards on the other side of the street, and they quickly spotted you. Your breath hitched in your throat.

One of them raised a walkie-talkie to their mouth, and you broke out into a run.

You ran as fast as you could, zigzagging through the crowds and almost running into other demons. You turned corners and weaved through alleys, and you could hear the bodyguards not far behind.

Your hood blew off in your frantic running, but you didn't bother to pull it back up. You could barely breathe, the panic and terror taking over.

After what felt like forever, you managed to lose them. You were almost too exhausted to stand, leaning against a wall as you struggled to catch your breath. Your chest rose and fell heavily as you gasped for air. Your legs were shaking violently.

There was a familiar sound of static behind you. Your heart stopped.

You spun around, only to come face to face with Vox. He wore an angry scowl, eyes narrowed darkly. You tried to step back, but you bumped into the wall behind you. He stood right in front of you, towering over you. He was absolutely terrifying like this, and you had no way to escape.

He reached out and grabbed your arm roughly, and you flinched and tried to yank away, but his grip was like iron. You looked around desperately for help, but there was no one around. Of course there wasn't. You had run so far from the busy streets, and it was far too late for anyone to be wandering around. If not for that, Vox probably wouldn't have shown up himself.

He dragged you back towards the limo waiting around the corner, ignoring your pleading and resistance. You clawed at his hand and dug your heels into the ground, but it was futile.

"Let go! Please!" you cried, trying to dig your heels into the ground, but Vox just kept pulling you along. You kicked and screamed, but it didn't matter. There was no one here to hear you, no one to save you.

Vox opened the limo door and tossed you inside, slamming it shut behind him. You scrambled backwards into the door. You were cornered, trapped between Vox and the door. Vox climbed into the limo and the driver started moving. You pressed yourself further against the door.

"Do you have any idea how worried I've been?" he said, his voice a low growl. You shuddered. "I'm your husband. Don't I deserve a little respect?"

'Husband'. That word made you sick. He always claimed that's what he was. You couldn't remember the ceremony, but the papers were real. There wasn't a doubt in your mind he used hypnosis for most of your relationship. You couldn't remember a single memory where you actually were in love with him, especially how much he claimed you were to be.

You felt a lot of things when you were with him, but it certainly wasn't love. You were scared. Angry. Disgusted. Violated. But you were never in love.

"I believe we've talked about how this'd go if you ever tried it, didn't I?" he continued. He pulled out his phone and showed you a video. It was of you, running through the streets of Pride, looking even more exhausted and miserable than you felt, even under the hood. "I know every street cam in Hell, don't forget that."

"Then why didn't you come for me sooner?" you rasped. Your throat felt raw from running, and your lungs burned. Your arm throbbed from where he grabbed you, and you knew there'd be a bruise later.

"I wanted to see if you'd come crawling back to me on your own," he said, leaning forward to look down on you. He was sitting right next to you, his leg pressed against yours. "And you didn't."

You shrunk back slightly. His gaze was harsh and intimidating. The lights of his eyes flickered across his screen and danced on your skin. You felt his gaze bore into you, like he was trying to figure out what was going on in your mind.

You tried to pull your knees up to your chest, but Vox reached out and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. He brushed his thumb along your lower lip.

"I think you need another lesson on how things work," he growled.

"I don't want--"

"Did I ask what you wanted?"

He pinned you against the limo door and leaned in closer, his face only inches from yours. You could feel his breath on your cheek.

"Don't act like you didn't miss this, baby," he purred, his tone changing like a switch had been flipped. "Why'd you leave me? Have I not been spending enough time with you? Am I not making you feel loved enough? I'm the only thing that can protect you down here, but I can't do that if you keep running away."

You squirmed under his grasp. He was holding you so tight that it was hard to breathe. It hurt.

His eye swirled, the familiar hypnotic glow enveloping your vision, and the world around you began to melt away. It was like your consciousness was sinking into a swamp. You were still aware of what was happening, but you couldn't control your own body or voice. Even your emotions beneath his control were dulled down, and it felt like a fog had rolled in over your mind.

You went limp and slumped forward against Vox as he cradled you. His hands traveled down your body and slid up under your shirt, brushing against your stomach. Your skin tingled wherever he touched it.

Just as you heard a dark chuckle from him, just as his hands trailed down to the waistband of your pants...

"We're here," the driver said, interrupting the moment. Vox's hands lingered on your hips for a second longer before pulling away. He moved out of the limo first, then helped you out. You followed him inside without hesitation.

He led you inside the tower, an arm wrapped around your waist. As soon as you stepped inside, he kicked the door closed behind him and picked you up bridal style, carrying you into the bedroom.

You wouldn't be coming out of your hypnotized state any time soon.

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