#I mentioned this in another post but he will either reach for a hand to smooth his thumb over in comfort

[starcursedluvrs]

"TALK"

I suguru x pregnant!reader

“And I’d be the immediate  Forgiveness  In Eurydice.  Imagine being loved by me.” 

part I of suguru x pregnant!reader (this isn’t completely canon compliant, and will probs be 3 or 4 parts and will go up to December 24th, 2017 on the current JJK timeline).  

summary: you loved suguru more than anything in this world. and you could argue he felt the same for you. actually, he would end the world for you. so, he took you with him the night he defected, and you happily obliged. however, in the midst of the chaos of leaving your life behind, two little lines appear on a certain test causing you to rethink your entire plan. 

A/N: heyyy!! i'm arden!! this is my first try at ever posting the fanfic I’ve written so please enjoy! I started this specific fic as a hobby back in December, and I finished it a little over a month ago (I’ve just been kinda nervy to post hehe) so here goes nothing! likes, reblogs, and comments are highly appreciated <3

MINORS / AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED. 

warnings!: SPOILERS FOR GOJO’S PAST ARC. THIS IS A PREGNANCY FIC! 18+. nsfw. f!reader. suguru and reader are over the age of 18. explicit sexual content. unprotected sex/oral (f!receiving). breeding kink. fingering. creampie. pregnancy. unplanned pregnancy. lactation kink. mentions of child abuse. cute domestic fluff hehe. 

wc: 14.5k

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September 2007 

4:27 PM (16:27)

“Wait…so what are we doing again?” you asked, riding atop one of Suguru’s many curses. You were straddling the pink alien-looking curse, legs dangling off either  side. One of Suguru’s large hands held your waist steady while the other controlled the motion of the cursed spirit. His chin was buried in the crook of your neck, so that he had easy access to press kisses into your skin. 

Suguru left a line of sweet pecks down your shoulder before answering. 

“This village in the sticks was reported to have kidnappings and abnormal deaths. Shouldn’t be anything unusual,” he said nonchalantly. 

You leaned back against him so that you could look up into his honey irises, pouting. His hand left your waist, moving comfortably behind him to support both of your weight. 

“Then why did you ask me to come along? Seems like you could handle it yourself, you’re a special grade. I’m only a semi grade-one,” you reasoned, reaching up to play with his stray bangs. He grabbed your hand before you could reach his neat, inky bun, pressing light kisses into your knuckles. 

“Well, if all goes well, maybe we can find a hotel or do something nice. Charge it to the school and say it took longer than we expected, so we get to stay somewhere overnight without waking Satoru,” Suguru replied, smirking a bit on the last line of his speech. 

“I like the way you think, my love,” you beamed, melting into his touch. 

… 

January 2007 

You and Suguru had been in a committed relationship for the past nine months, and friends for even longer.  You started secretly fucking around at the beginning of your third year at Jujutsu High. You had always been attracted to him, but given your tiny class size and the complexity of Jujutsu Society, you didn’t want to cause any drama or make things weird between you two. 

Well, life doesn’t always go to plan. 

Especially that one night at the beginning of your third year when you, Shoko, Satoru, and Suguru broke into Yaga’s liquor cabinet, stole two bottles of sake, and got a little handsy. With your judgment impaired, you might have let it slip that you thought Suguru was very attractive and often wondered how his sculpted body would feel beneath his Bontan pants and uniform shirt. The thought was reciprocated by the raven head. 

One thing led to another, and the next morning, you woke up in a tangled mess of inky black hair and bedsheets. Suguru just held you, keeping your body close to his, whispering sweet nothings into your ears. It was nice, you did not have to say anything to fill the comfortable silence that had fallen upon you two. 

Eventually, he placed a kiss on your forehead and started to pull his clothes on from the previous night. 

Last night. Was last night a mistake? 

Should you have let Suguru taken you out to dinner or something before he fucked you into tomorrow? 

“Wait…Sug hold on.

What does this mean? 

For us? Our friendship?” you asked in a panic before Suguru reached the door. 

“It doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to,” he replied in his calm, collected tone, looking at the floor with his back to you. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you sat up, still covered by the soft sheets, pulling your knees into your chest, slightly offended. 

“Just that we don’t have to make a big deal out of this if we don’t want to. We also don’t have to do this again if you don’t want to. I know this could complicate things if we keep at it,” he paced around to face you again, the distance still rather daunting.

“Okay.” 

“Cool.”

The comfortable silence from before slowly turned awkward. 

“Um…thanks,” you offer. 

“…for…what?” Suguru inquired. 

“Last night. It was…fun,” you flashed him an unsure smile. 

A deep rumble came from his chest as he chuckled, “Yeah, let’s see how much fun you have walking today. See ya in class,” before leaving the room.

“SUG-“ you called after him, blushing at the cheesy line as he left the room, disappearing back into the cocoon of sheets. 

…

March, 2007 

You tried to keep your distance from him. Being a child of the Kamo clan, you were probably destined to be forced into some relationship that benefitted Jujutsu society, and not your happiness. This was just one of the many things that you hated about Jujutsu Society. Therefore, Suguru was all that more enticing to you. 

You found yourself perched on Suguru’s desk the next week. Your legs were spread wide, held apart by his large hands to assure you didn’t squirm around too much and get away from him. Suguru was lapping at your folds like a man starved. He dragged his tongue up and down your slit, and worked his way up to your clit, giving it a little kiss and suck. 

“Ngh Suguru. More.” You moaned, bucking your hips up to his face. 

“That’s not how we ask,” he replied, pulling away. 

“Suguru. Please.”

“What happened to complete sentences?” Suguru pressed one of his large thumbs to your nub, holding pressure, but refrained from moving it. 

“Fuck YOU Suguru I-“ 

“That’s what I’m trying to do, doll. You’re just not behaving.” 

He started to swirl his thumb around gently. It wasn’t enough to make you cum, but the pleasure was still intense. 

“Suguru please, I need som-something inside. Fingers. Yours. Please.” You croaked out, your head going dizzy with pleasure. 

“Awww, what’s wrong? Can’t think straight?” He said, plunging his slickened digits, adorned with a few silver rings, right into your core. 

“At least you said please, so I guess I’ll let you cum this time,” Suguru voiced in that smooth, sultry voice of his. 

He started moving those two digits back and forth in a “come here” motion, not giving you a chance to adjust to their circumference. A lewd squelching noise filled the room as he continued his ministrations. “You’re being such a good girl for me, taking my rings and fingers so well. Yeah, you like that, don’t you?” 

You let out a loud moan, and Suguru immediately pushed his thumb in your mouth for you to suck on. That way, you wouldn’t draw attention to any unwelcome visitors who might be walking the halls of the school. 

“You don’t even have to answer with that pretty mouth, your body is answering for you. You’re so tight. Gods, you’re gorgeous.” he whispered into your ear. 

He put his mouth back on your clit to suck, and added a third finger. He kept thrusting it in and out, hitting that sweet spot that had you seeing stars, as if he had your g-spot memorized. 

If Sugru ended up drowning in your juices, he would die a happy man. He absolutely loved lapping up at your sweet pussy, the earthy scent intoxicating to him. 

Soon, you felt the familiar coil in the depths of your belly start to come undone, and your cunt fluttered around Suguru’s fingers, the stimulation becoming too much.

“Come apart f’me. I got you love. I got you. Cum f’me,” Suguru commanded in his pussy-drunk haze. 

You let go as your orgasm washed over you, relishing in the pure bliss as Suguru helped you through the aftershocks. When you came to, he captured your lips in a hungry kiss. You could still taste your essence on his tongue. 

The next night, you were folded over the same desk as he pounded into you with his fat length. The bathroom stalls. The pantry. Behind the bleachers at the field. You could not get enough of each other. 

You and Suguru both fell hard and fast for each other. His unwavering sense of morality, intelligence, and kindness towards others drew you even further into his grasp. The way he spoke, his scent of freshly done laundry, his loyalty to his friends; these were all things that you loved about Suguru Geto. He was one of a kind. 

As Jujutsu Sorcerers, you were well aware that your tomorrow was not guaranteed. Suguru made you feel alive, which, to you, was worth more than any amount of fame or glory that your clan could bestow upon you. He truly wanted to make the world a better place for you, and any future you might have together. On the third month of your official relationship, you confessed your love: 

“Suguruuuu,” you giggled as he kissed up your neck. 

You had been laying in Suguru’s bed, in the midst of a heated makeout session. Your back was pressed flat into the mattress, knees at an angle, and feet flat against the soft duvet. Suguru was positioned right on top of you, in between your knees. He held your face in both of his hands, and your arms clung to the back of his head, getting lost in the inky strands. 

“I love you.” He whispered, as if he was telling a secret. 

In lieu of an answer, you brought his head down into a deep, passionate kiss. Your tongues danced together for what seemed like forever and no time at all, until you broke the kiss and said, “I think I may love you more.” 

“Unfortunately, doll, that’s simply not true. I’d end the world for you.” 

You were hopelessly in love with Suguru Geto.    

…

May 2007 

“You have a list of baby names picked out? Dude you’ve been together for like a few months.” Shoko taunted, a cigarette tucked between her lips, clicking away on her silver flip phone. 

“Oh, come on Ieiri, I think every person has a baby name list.”

“I don’t.” Shoko deadpanned. 

“You’re a lesbian who has no desire for kids,” you shot back.

“Touché. I do have a cat name list, though, if that counts,” Shoko added.

“I think it does.” you replied. 

“Ugh, fineee, gimme the list,” said Shoko, already grabbing the journal out of your hand. After scanning through the list of names, Shoko looked up at you and burst into laughter.

“Ok, you cannot name your kid Shigure. Or Kyo. Or any character from Fruits Bask-“

“Yo, WHO’S having a kid” interrupted the lanky, white-haired person with blacked-out sunglasses and a mischievous smile. Suguru appeared next to Satoru, holding a basketball, running to kiss you hello. 

“NO ONE’S having a kid,” you replied. 

“Ok, wait I need to know, do either of you have baby name lists? I feel like every person has them.” 

Satoru sighed, and thought about the question for a second. Suguru sat on the ground and started rolling the basketball in the dirt. 

“I haven’t even thought about baby names. To be honest, kids are kinda hard to have when you’re a sorcerer. You have to go on missions and then come home and change diapers, no thanks. Like, what if it poops on you? Also, I kinda wanna spite the old geezers in my clan.” Satoru added.

“You raise an excellent point, Gojo. This is one of the reasons why I love being a lesbian. Less of a risk for accidents,” Shoko took a drag from her cigarette.

“I can’t be the ONLY person here who has a list,” you sighed. 

“Lemme see that-“ Satoru said as he grabbed your journal from Shoko’s grasp. 

“…These are just Fruits Basket and One Piece charact-” Satoru snickered. 

“Wait Satoru, have you read the new One Piece chapter yet? I heard it’s crazy.” Suguru cut in. 

“Oh, no not yet, I haven’t had a chance to get the new volume,” Satoru whined. 

“What are you doing right now? Wanna go pick up some coke from the vending machine, then get to that bookstore in Shinjuku and grab a copy?” Suguru explained with excitement. 

“Honestly, a coke sounds amazing right now. Either of you wanna come?” Satoru gestured to you and Shoko. 

“Nah, I think we’re gonna go steal some of Yaga’s booze,” Shoko informed. 

“Yeah, he’s on a mission for the next day or so. Might as well take advantage of it,” You said, a little defeated and disinterested. 

“…’kay see you guys later then.” Satoru said in a sing-songy voice. 

Suguru walked up to you, pressed a quick peck on your lips, and said, “I’ll be back. Love you.” 

But that wasn’t all.

Under his breath, so that no one else could hear, he whispered, “Don’t think this conversation is over yet, doll,” and walked away as if he hadn’t uttered anything. Your stomach was filled with butterflies and you felt your cheeks go hot as he walked away. 

… 

Later the same day, May, 2007

You were sitting on Suguru’s lap as he twiddled on his PS3 controller playing one of his games. Suguru was sitting on the floor, his legs criss-crossed while you leaned against his back, feeling his warmth though his clothing. You were sporting one of his large white t-shirts, wearing only your favorite pair of panties underneath. 

“Sug?” You question softly, turning around to face him. 

“Yeah, doll?” He replied not looking down from his game. 

“So…about that comment earlier. Why did you say the conversation wasn’t finished yet? And which one? About the One Piece chapter? Or the baby names? I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable asking that question, I was ju-“

Suguru paused his game and looked at you, a smirk on his face. 

“It did the opposite of making me uncomfortable, actually. It made me feel a little more normal, or as normal as we can be given our lifestyle. I have a baby name list too.” 

Your heart fluttered. Of course he did. 

“I saw the list over Satoru’s shoulder. And we actually had one name in common.”

“Which name?” 

“Riko.” He replied softly.

His answer made you happy and sad all at once. You wish you didn’t have that name on your list. Riko Amanai had meant so much to the both of you. She represented the freedom that you could have from Jujutsu Society, as well as everything that was broken and corrupt about it. Riko’s death is what radicalized the both of you. She set you both on a path to work towards a better world. 

For a moment, you thought about what your life would be with Suguru had you not been Jujutsu Sorcerers. You would probably get married as soon as you graduated, get a job somewhere. Buy a cozy house in the countryside. Make home cooked meals, have children, adopt some dogs. You would grow old together and not have to constantly worry about the fact that you could die a gruesome death in the morning. 

You were lying down on your side now, your back against Suguru’s chest. Suguru moved a hand under your shirt, to your stomach, slowly rubbing circles, drawing you out of your trance. 

“I love your tummy, it’s so cute” Suguru sighed into your ear. 

You giggled.

“What’s so funny about that, love?”

“I’m sorry that just sounded so funny in the moment.” 

“I don’t think it’s that funny, especially when my baby’s gonna be in there one day.”

He said it so nonchalantly and matter-of-factly that you thought you had misheard him. You blushed, hoping you didn’t mishear. 

“SUG-“ you turned around and gave a playful slap to his arm. 

After a pause of giggling from the both of you, Suguru just couldn’t let the topic get away from you. 

“Ya know, I think about it a lot,” he continued. 

“Think about what,” you questioned.

“Think about what our future would be like. A house that is actually full of love. And little feet running around.” 

“Tell me more,” you said against his lips. 

“Maybe we’d live in a really remote village away from everything Jujutsu related. We could get a little farm, raise some sheep, horses, chickens, crops. We could add to the world instead of just taking.” 

“Why do we have to wait for the future to do that? Money isn’t the issue here,” You answered, referring to the handsome compensation you receive for such a risky career path. 

“True, I could just fuck a baby into you right now.” 

“I was talking about the house, and you knew that.” You shot back, a laugh escaping your chest at an attempt to be serious. 

“That’s another thing I think about.” 

“What?” You were taunting him now. You wanted to see where this was going.

“You, your tummy all round with my baby. God, you look so good when you’re stuffed full f’me,” Suguru slurred. From the dim light of his paused video game, you could see that his pupils were blown with lust. He kissed you hard and messily, tongue intertwining with yours.

Suguru removed your (his) shirt and started to kiss down your body, landing at your breasts, hovering right over a nipple. 

“These would look so good with milk. So pretty and soft,” he purred, taking a nipple into his mouth. 

The warmth of his mouth felt so good against your pebbled nipples, you couldn’t help but let out a moan. He licked and sucked until you were a drooling, wet mess underneath him. 

“You like this, huh. Baby, I’ve barely touched you. And you’re already this worked up?” He taunted, moving to give attention to the neglected nipple. 

“What else?” you slurred, ignoring his question. He still hadn’t admitted it.

“Everyone would know who you belonged to. All because of me.” He continued, releasing the nipple from his mouth. 

His words sent shivers down your spine, and you felt your arousal start to pool uncomfortably in your underwear. You needed them off. 

“Suguru, what do you want?” you asked the obvious question, just wanting to hear him speak more on the topic. 

“I wanna stuff your pretty cunt full of cum ‘till you can’t take any more, doll,” he grumbled, grinding his impressive erection on your clothed cunt. 

“Wanna get you pregnant so bad,” he continued pressing feverish kisses down the length of your body. “You’ve been asking a lot of questions about what I want.” He made his way to your panties, “But, before I take these off, I need to know what you want.”

Your hole was clenching around nothing at his words, you were getting rather impatient. 

“Please touch me.” You whined. 

“Hmm, I have been touching you my love,” 

“Sugu- stop t-teasin-nghhh.” you moaned as one of his thick fingers started moving in a circular motion on your bud. Soon, one finger became two, and he moved them from your clit to your slick folds, swirling the juices around, occasionally ghosting your eager cunt. 

“Suguru gimme your dick,” you begged. 

“Baby, one, you can ask nicer than that, where are your manners? And two, I have to get you ready to take me first. Gotta make sure I can fit the most amount of cum in there as possible,” he let out a small moan on the last word. 

“Open your mouth, doll,” he commanded. 

You complied, opening your mouth as he stuck his two slickened fingers in, pushing them as far back as they could go. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see a dark stain forming on his gray sweatpants. He must have been impossibly hard. 

Your moans and gasps vibrated against his digits, and when he thought you had been teased enough, he finally offered you the sweet relief of his fingers filling you. Definitely not as large as his cock, but they reached the parts of you that you could not with your own hands. Suguru started thrusting in and out, curling his fingers along the way, hitting your g-spot with brutal precision.

“Sug-nghhh, I’m gonna-” 

“Shhh baby, you can let go for me, I got you. So good f’me.” 

With the thumb of his hand, he lightly stroked your clit, and you felt the familiar heat bubbling in your core. After a few more thrusts, and praises from Suguru, you were cumming all over his fingers. He helped you through your orgasm, your head full of wool as you came down from your high. Suguru brought his drenched appendages to his mouth and sucked, cleaning your fluids from his fingers.

“If only curses tasted this good. I can’t get enough of you.”

In your post-orgasm clarity, you realized that your boyfriend was still clothed. That wouldn’t do. You sit up, rummaging through sticky sweats and underwear to pull his dick out. A long strand of precum dripped from his tip, breaking away as you pulled him out of his boxers. His penis would never fail to surprise you; he was of average length, but so thick, you could barely close your hand around him. You wrapped two hands around his cock as your mouth watered at the beautiful sight before you. But, just as you were about to taste him, two of his strong hands pushed you back against the bed, forcing you off of his dick. 

“What was that for? I wanna suck you off,” you pouted.

“Sorry, doll. We can’t waste any cum,” he said as his nose ghosted against yours. 

“But I just wanted to make sure, you never said it out loud. Do you actually want this? Can I actually get you pregnant? Don’t wanna pressure you if it was just a kink.” He looked into your eyes with concern, needing your verbal confirmation to continue. 

“Suguru. Put a baby in me.” 

You think you broke your boyfriend after saying that. He let out a grunt from deep within his chest and grabbed a pillow from the pile that fell off the bed in during your earlier activities. He placed the pillow underneath your lower back and whispered choruses of “I love you,” on your skin. Suguru’s fingertips traced over your skin, eventually grasping your legs, throwing them over his shoulders. 

“I don’t deserve you, doll.” He pressed a quick kiss to your nose. 

“This is called a mating press,” Suguru explained as he grabbed his cock and lined up with your twitching hole. “I did some research as to what position would get you pregnant the fastest, and I think this one has a good success rate.”  He sounded so methodical in his explanation, which was so in character for him. Of course your Suguru would do research into this. He would do anything for you to make you happy. And you would do the same for him. 

When he pushes the head in, you both gasp at the contact. He kept sliding in until his balls slapped against your ass and your pelvic bones met. There was such little resistance, and you let out a sob as he bottomed out. 

“You ok, baby? You’re taking me like such a-a, nghhh- good girl. Feels like heaven in your pussy. My pussy.” It was so attractive when he got possessive over you, your ovaries felt like they were about to burst in more ways than one. 

“Sugu- ngh- move-“ 

Instead of moving, he licked the inside of your upper thigh, dragging his tongue impossibly slow to tease you. 

“NGH- plea-ahhh please,” you could feel tears pricking in the corner of your eyes. He made it so easy for you to fall apart. 

“Good girl, look at you using your words,” he sounded wrecked, his voice gravely with arousal. And with that, he began moving. At first, his thrusts were slow and deep; you could feel every vein and ridge on his dick. His balls slapped against the fat of your ass, creating an embarrassingly loud clapping sound that bounced off of the walls. It felt delicious. 

You weren’t just having sex - he was making love to you. It was emotional and sensual. The tears you felt earlier spilled over on to your cheeks as Suguru picked up the pace, his cock pistoning in and out. He kissed your tears away as you muttered broken moans of both his name and explicits. 

Suguru’s grip was surely going to leave bruises in the morning. One hand was holding your body in place around your waist, while the other kept your leg over his shoulder. He let go of your leg for a moment as he grabbed another pillow that was somewhere in reach, and gently slid it under your hips so that he could reach you at a deeper angle. Your vision went blurry. He was impossibly deep, you thought you could feel him rearranging your intestines. 

Finally, his thrusts started getting sloppier. You knew Suguru was close. 

“Gonna fuck my baby into you,” he half moaned. “Fuck, love, I’m close. Want ya to let go first,” and with that, he moved his possessive, bruising touch to rub your clit. After a few rotations around your nub, you let go, your vision going white as you came hard, your cunt clamping down on his cock.

The vice grip of your pussy is what finally sent him over the edge, and Suguru began to fill you up with his thick load. 

“Thank you, baby, thank you,” Suguru chanted, like it was a prayer, and you were the goddess who was receiving his offering. You laid like that for a while, him still inside, your hips tilted up to keep his cum inside of you. He left a trail of kisses down your sweat-drenched neck as his cock softened in your walls. 

After about fifteen minutes, you felt Suguru starting to fill out again, his body gearing up for round two. 

And then three.

And then four. 

You lost count of how many times you had cum that night. Your tummy sported a small bump with the amount of Suguru’s seed trapped in your womb. You were so full that you couldn’t possibly take any more. And Suguru loved you like that. 

Of course, he loved you always, but this was different. He took one of his large hands and gently massaged your sore, slightly swollen belly, pressing wet kisses all around. 

“I hope our baby looks like you,” you whispered into the crown of his head. 

“I was just thinking the same thing. I hope our baby at least has your eyes. I get lost in them sometimes,” he responded. “Ya know, your eyes are probably my favorite part of you, besides your tummy. And your beautiful brain. And every other part of you.” 

“I love you so much, Suguru. I don’t think I can put it into words. You’re such a good man, so good to me. You’re gonna be the best dad one day,” you confessed.

“Hopefully, that day will be soon,” he smirked, “I’m gonna go get you water and a hot washcloth to clean you up. Want anything to eat?” 

You smiled back at him and shook your head, blowing a kiss to him before he left. 

You expected yourself to be more freaked out by his comment, “hopefully, that day will be soon,” but you couldn’t help but feel excited. Life as a Jujutsu Sorcerer was so unexpected, you never knew when a mission was going to be your last. You decided it wouldn’t be a bad thing to have a little mini Suguru running around, allowing the three of you to finally have the family that neither you nor Suguru ever did. 

… 

August 2007

It was a disgustingly hot day outside. You were so sweaty, you felt your clothes sticking to you, and the humidity felt as if you were walking through a sauna. 

Since it was so unbearably hot outside, you and Suguru decided it would be a nice day to go to a water park. Of course, that meant Satoru and Shoko had to tag along. 

You and Suguru were in charge of packing, as the other two would not have chosen enough food or towels for your journey. They would probably also forget things like sunscreen and umbrellas, opting to fill your beach bags with bottles of booze and sweets. You and Suguru were practically the parents of the friend group at this point; sometimes the other two would even refer to you as “mom and dad.” Suguru would give you a smirk any time this happened, reminding you of the conversation you had back in May. 

After you fought Satoru on the fact that he could not in fact take an entire box of ice cream mochi to the water park, you were set to leave on your adventure. The four of you and your bags all piled in the car of an assistant director. Excitement and easy conversation flowed through the vehicle, as all of you relished in the relief of the cool air conditioning. 

Shoko sat in the front, smoking a cigarette, choosing which CDs to play, while you sat in the back with Satoru and Suguru. Suguru, being the gentleman that he is, gave you the seat behind the driver’s side. You tried to resist, explaining that he and Satoru would have more leg room if you just sat in the middle, but Suguru insisted. 

The four of you finally arrived at the water park about an hour and a half later. 

Maybe this was a bad idea. 

As you walked through the wooden gates, the park was swarmed with families, teenagers, and college students. There were colorful slides entangled in each other at the center of the park, with a lazy river surrounding it. To the left, there was a wave pool with people attempting to surf, and to the right, there was another large pool with buckets of water that would dump on patrons randomly. The lounge chairs were spread throughout the park, and it seemed like the entirety of Japan had come to this one water park to beat the summer heat. 

“Ok guys let’s stay together and try to find some lounge chai-” 

“Shoko! I’m gonna beat you down those slides, ready?” Satoru screamed with glee, like a young child. 

“Hold on, lemme finish this,” Shoko replied, motioning to her cigarette. 

“NO! We. Are. Going. To. Sit. Down. Let’s just stay together, it’s a madhouse here,” You put your foot down. 

“If I wanted to be mothered, mother, I would have gone home for the summer,” Shoko rolled her eyes at you. You just ignored her, too bothered by the heat to even come up with a good comeback.

“I sent out a curse to go find us a spot - wait. Where’s Satoru?” Suguru chimed in.

“Let’s be logical about this. Where is the nearest ice cream stand?” You asked. 

“Ha, there he is,” Shoko nodded her head towards the nearest ice cream stand. In the line of children, there was one with white hair who was almost as tall as the stand itself. Bingo. 

You marched over to the line, and went to tug Satoru by his ear back to the group. Alas, his Infinity was on, and you could not touch him. 

“Oof, I would not wanna be him right now, that one has a temper,” Shoko joked, as she put her cigarette out over the trash can next to them, watching you and Satoru argue. In that moment, Suguru couldn’t help but stare at you, taking in how beautiful you looked against the summer sun. You were glowing, radiant, even as you berated his best friend. 

“I haven’t seen you look at someone the way you look at her.” Shoko broke Suguru’s thoughts, pulling him out of his trance. 

“Yeah.” Suguru responded, smiling. 

“Wow, you didn’t even try to deny it,” Shoko smirked back. “OOooo someone’s in looovee,” Shoko teased. 

“I am. And I’m so lucky. I love her more than anything in the world,” Suguru said with a content sigh. 

“Ok, now you’re just gonna make me vomit, that’s so sappy,” Shoko stuck out her tongue, making a fake gagging sound. 

“It’s true,” Suguru responded, still in his trance.

“What if I can treat her better than you,” Shoko teased. 

“Maybe,” he said, the slightest flicker of insecurity in his eyes. “I don’t think I deserve her sometimes. She’s not as tainted by curses and cursed energy as I am. She’s not the one who absorbs curses day after day.” He looked tired. Shoko noticed the bags under his eyes, but just as she was about to say something, you came running with Satoru’s wrist in your hand, pulling him with an ice cream cone in his hand. The ice cream was beginning to drip everywhere.

“I can’t believe they only had vanilla. What a ripoff,” Satoru sighed, annoyed. 

“You dumbass, you didn’t even get napkins!? How am I supposed to call you a functioning adult, you’re literally about to turn 19, and you didn’t even get napkins?!” You berated him again.

“Oh, looks like the curse found a place for us to sit. It’s keeping the area clear so non-sorcerers aren’t determined to sit there,” Suguru interrupted. 

You all walked towards a little spot in the shade with three lounge chairs and a table. You figured you would just share your lounge chair with Suguru and sit in his lap. Or he could use your lap as a pillow and you could braid his hair. Either worked. 

Just as you were setting out your towels on the chairs, you heard a PLOP and crying following after. A little kid had slipped and fallen down on the concrete. He used his hands to break the fall, and the skin of his palms were broken a little bit, blood splintering through the cracks. He started hysterically crying.

“Oh no, sweetie! Are you okay? Where is your grown up?” you rushed over to the kid. 

“I think I packed a first aid kit in the bag, let me get it,” Suguru added.

Of course he did, that man was prepared for the end of the world.

Suguru took an antiseptic wipe from the kit, and bent down so that he was at eye level with the kid. 

“This is probably going to sting, but it will feel better I promise. Your bathing suit is dope by the way, I love the colors,” Suguru cooed at the kid, trying to calm him down. 

“You remind me a lot of my little brother, his name is Noritoshi. He’s really brave. Are you brave like him?” you added. 

The child stopped his hysterics and let Suguru clean him up, listening to both of your kind words. He nodded his little head of pink hair at your question and pointed towards an elderly man slowly, but frantically making his way over to the kid.

“Yuji! What happened?” the old man asked.

“I falled and getted a boo-boo,” the kid, called Yuji, sniffled. 

“He slipped and hurt his hand, we have some antiseptic disinfectant and bandaids though, so we fixed him right up,” you told the man as he got closer.

“He was really brave,” Suguru added, smiling down at Yuji. 

“Thank you, so much. You two are very kind,” the man said in a monotone voice. Though his voice showed no emotion, his eyes did. His eyes looked tired, but definitely grateful to the kindness of you and Suguru. 

“Feel better, dude!” Suguru yelled to Yuji as his grandfather led him away. 

After about an hour of tanning on the lounges with Shoko, you looked to see where the boys went. It wasn’t very hard to spot the two best friends, as they were acting like children, making big waves in the lazy river. On Suguru’s shoulders, you noticed something: the kid with the pink hair from earlier. 

Suguru and Satoru were having some sort of chicken fight with him, all three of them laughing and having the time of their lives. 

“You are hopeless,” Shoko rolled her eyes, a new cigarette in between her lips. 

“What do you mean?” You replied. 

“Don’t play dumb, I know what you’re thinking,” she smirked back.

…

September 2007 

“Suguru, you look like you’ve lost weight, are you okay?” Satoru asked, as he twirled a pencil in midair with his Infinity technique. 

“Just tired,” Suguru responded. 

Over the past few weeks, Suguru had developed dark circles and bags under his eyes. He looked pale, and was often exhausted. Not too exhausted for you though, apparently. 

It seemed the two of you spent more and more time together holed up in one of your rooms when you weren’t on missions. It was just so nice in your own little world, away from everything. You didn’t have to care about who lived and who died. You only had to focus on each other. 

Satoru attempted to carry on the conversation. 

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.” 

“You probably won’t see me for a while again.” 

“Yo, what’s that supposed to mean?” 

“I need to get out of here. Both of us do. We’re not fit for Jujutsu Society.” Suguru said, referring to the two of you. 

“Ha, ha, so funny.” Satoru sarcastically added. 

“It’s not a joke.” 

“What do you mean? Dude, you’re a special grade, you seriously think they’re gonna let you quit?” 

It was true. The elders wouldn’t just let Suguru run away and walk free. If he was not with Jujutsu society, he was probably against it. And letting a special grade sorcerer and his grade one partner roam free would pose a threat to the stability of the elder’s iron grip on the status quo of Jujutsu society. 

He’d have to get the elders to denounce and force you out. 

So, here you were, flying with the man who was your boyfriend, your one and only, on the back of a curse, headed out for a mission, and hopefully, some much needed seclusion with Suguru. 

… 

7:03 PM (19:03)

You and Suguru decided to split up for the mission. It had been reported that there was a sighting of two possible curse users and a separate cursed spirit. Thus, Suguru wanted to deal with the curse users, and you to deal with the curse itself. 

You exorcized the curse with ease, using piercing blood to slice the monster in half. There were a few other lower level curses, which you could have eliminated with your eyes closed. It seemed too easy. If Suguru was sent on this mission, there had to be something else, another factor. After a few minutes of patrolling for any other cursed energy residue, you decided to find your way back to Suguru. 

You found him standing outside of a small house on the outskirts of the village. He seemed out of it; he was staring right at the door, but did not enter. As you approached, you saw the strong cursed energy residue leading from the door. 

“Sug, I exorcized those curses. I know you hate the taste of swallowing them, I didn’t want to make you do that if you didn’t have to.” If Suguru heard you, he showed no acknowledgement. 

“Suguru?” You pinched the sleeve of his white collared shirt.

“Dude? Did you hear me?” You squeezed his thick bicep, pushing your manicured nails into his skin, effectively bringing him back from whatever plane of reality he was on. 

“The locals in the village told me this is the home of two little girls, twins. Their descriptions match the ones for the curse users. So…” He insinuated, leaving the rest for you to figure out. His amber eyes were dark and cold. 

“Oh.” You said. You and Suguru had both been through a lot and hated Jujutsu Society. You and Suguru had your incident with Amanai a little over a year earlier, and your uppity clan kept you from your mother, a heartbreaking decision by the family head in order to give you the best possible chance of becoming the leader of the clan. A position which you despised.

Over the past few months, in the afterglow of sex, you two would lay there, embraced in each other's arms, dreaming of a world without curses, without clans, without people to produce those curses. “Monkeys,” as Suguru referred to non-sorcerers, from which curses were created. In your and Suguru’s fantasy world, you wouldn’t even have a reason to use curse techniques. You could get married, have children, live a peaceful life without fear of a curse coming to take that happiness away.

The bottom line is you knew Jujutsu Society was unfair, but never would you think you would be asked to harm a child. What was wrong with these people? You thought of your little brother, Norotoshi, who was also six years old. He was supposed to be your “competition” for the title of family head, but you never really wanted to fight him. He was just your sweet little brother. 

How could you harm someone that is the same age as your little brother? 

A wave of nausea ran through your body as the reality of the situation dawned upon you. Suguru kneeled down on the floor with you, rubbing your back and holding your hair back as you vomited. 

“Shhh, I got you.” He wrapped you in an awkward embrace on the floor, and pressed a kiss to your sweat-sheened forehead. “It’s going to be okay. I have a plan.” Suguru’s entire demeanor changed in an instant. He smiled, but there was no emotion behind his eyes, and his voice sounded like it was coated in honey. 

His behavior was strange, but helped you to feel more at ease. Suguru gave you some hope to cling on to. 

… 

8:46 PM (20:46) 

You were both sitting on the stairs leading up to the front of the house. You were leaning on Suguru as he brushed a hand over your hair, occasionally placing a kiss on the top of your head. You had finally finished sobbing into Suguru’s chest after an hour, the teardrops staining through his white collared shirt. You felt so many emotions. Anger at the broken system. Hatred, for the Jujutsu Society elders. Confusion, for what would happen once you committed to your plan. Grief, for the people in your life that you would lose. Betrayal, from the society that was supposed to protect people. Suguru sat with you and validated your feelings, making you feel like you and your emotions were the only things in this world that matter. 

The plan was simple. You were both going to defect. 

Both you and Suguru were sick and tired of the way the world functioned. You were sick of watching comrades, comrades who were teenagers, who were children, die. 

During one of your late night conversations, Suguru once said, 

“If being a Jujutsu Sorcerer is like running a marathon…

What if what’s at the end of that road…

Is a mountain of our fellow sorcerers’ dead corpses.”

In that moment, Suguru had played it off as some dark joke, but part of you knew that he was right. 

As for the plan, you two were to wait until some of the elders of the village led you into the small house, as they apparently kept multiple locks on it to keep the supposed dangerous young girls at bay. Then, you were going to take the young sorcerers on the back of one of Suguru’s curses and run to Kyoto and find somewhere to stay for the night. Suguru said he would “take care of the rest.” You trusted him with your whole being, even if that meant him ending the lives of a few non-sorcerers. It would serve them right for causing the very existence of curses. 

…

9:01 PM (21:01)

The two elders from the village arrived shortly after. You took Suguru’s hand and shared a reassuring glance, his thumb rubbing gently over your hand as if to say, it’s going to be okay. Shaking with exhaustion, anxiety, and some of the nausea from earlier,  you slowly made your way up the stairs as the elders parted the shoji doors. The building seemed to be one long room with some sort of wooden cage at the end, almost like the house was made to hold animals at some point. 

The building was dimly lit, but you could see the outline of two small figures huddled together in the center of the wooden cage. Your stomach turned once again, and you tightly squeezed Suguru’s hand.

“What is this?” Suguru firmly questioned, his free hand going up to brush his bangs away. 

The two of you stepped closer to the makeshift prison, and the two small figures were shaking. As you made your way towards the children, they had obviously been beaten. They were covered in dry blood, scratches and bruises. They both had one black eye. 

How could these children, these SIX year olds, legally be kept like this? THESE were the scary curse users that were terrorizing this village? It was disgusting. 

“My grandchild was on the verge of death because of these two,” spit the woman who led you in.

“These two use strange powers and often attack the villagers.” defended the other man in your presence.

Suguru dropped your hand and squatted down to be at eye level with the girls, pinching his nose bridge between his pointer finger and thumb. 

“So you mean to tell me that you monkeys think that these little girls, these children are responsible for the incidents that have been occuring, is that correct?” Suguru grumbled, his voice icy and dangerous. 

“I already dealt with the cause of the incidents, they’re innocent children, what is wrong with you people,” you cried. You were full of rage, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. 

One of the young girls, clutching a well-loved stuffed animal, bravely spoke up and declared, “We didn’t mean to hurt anyone on purpose, they were trying to-”

“SHUT UP YOU MONSTERS!” The elder woman screamed. 

“Your parents were the same. I knew we should have killed you when you were born,” the man added. 

“Exactly, twins are bad luck. We should have known better,” the elder woman snorted. 

Suguru looked down at the girls and whispered something that would not have been obvious to someone who did not know him as well as you did, “It’ll be okay.”

He started drawing a curse from his arsenal of cursed spirits, and gave you a nod. The signal to go ahead with the plan. 

That same silky smooth, almost frighteningly nice, voice that Suguru only used when he was especially angry. 

“Let’s step outside for a second, shall we?” Suguru tutted, producing the same pink cursed spirit you flew on to get to the village. He walked out the door with the two older adults and shot you a glance. 

I’d end the world for you. 

It was the same expression he bore when you confessed your love for each other, all of those months ago. 

The girls immediately stood up when they sighted the curse. They were terrified, understandably so. You moved towards the thick metal lock of the wooden cage and knelt down.

“Hey girls, I’m not going to hurt you, I’m here to help. You’re safe. I know it must seem so scary right now, but me and the other man you saw me with are going to get you out of here.”

You told them your name, and assured them that you were like them. Using your piercing blood to cut through the thick lock, you explained to them about your technique and talked to them about your little brother to keep them (and yourself) calm. 

As soon as the lock broke, the girls ran to you and hugged you tightly. They were shaking, crying, and clinging to your body. A series of thank you’s flooded from their mouths, and you kissed the top of their heads, attempting to dry their tears away. 

“The pink curse over here is going to take us to safety. Suguru, that man who’s talking to them, is also a sorcerer, and he’ll meet us wherever we get to.” you explained. 

You sat the girls on the curse side by side, and then climbed in back of them to make sure they did not fall. Using Supernova, you blasted a hole through the roof, and the cursed spirit started to levitate off of the ground. Quickly, you gained altitude and left the village behind. You covered the girls eyes as you looked back, just to see what was happening. The entrance to the house was ablaze and you could make out Suguru’s cursed spirits crawling throughout the village. 

Shit. Well, there wasn’t any turning back now. 

… 

The Next Morning

Overnight, you had flown the girls to a small hostel on the outskirts of Osaka. You purchased a small, private room for the three of you to stay in. 

As the sky turned from a deep purple to a ombré of orange and blue, nausea from the previous evening returned in full force. You held yourself over the toilet as you threw up what felt like your entire gut. You stayed like that until you heard four small feet walk into the bathroom behind you. 

With the light properly shining on them, you got to see how truly filthy they were. The girl, who called herself Mimiko, had short brown hair that was knotted, matted, and crinkled with dry blood. Her sister, Nanako, was not faring much better. Her blonde curls were also matted, and there was crusted blood left on her forehead. They both were covered from head to toe in bruises, had dark circles around their eyes, and seemed to be alarmingly skinny. 

“Um… are you okay?” Nanako asked. You took a deep breath, happy to focus on something other than your churning stomach for a moment. 

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I think it’s just nerves.” You answered. 

“Let’s worry about you two, I’ll run you a bath, then we can go to the 7/11 across the way and pick up some food. Sound good?” You declared. 

Mimiko’s stomach rumbled. “I think your belly answered for you, Mimiko,” you chuckled softly. 

… 

While the girls bathed, you went down to the Lost and Found of the hostel and grabbed a few items that looked like they would fit the twins: some hoodies, leggings, and a skirt. You also fixed yourself up, washing the vomit out of your mouth and splashing your face with hot water from the sink. 

Once the girls looked decent enough to go outside without raising suspicion, the three of you ventured out to the 7/11 across the street. 

The smell of food was a welcome scent as you walked up and down the rows of food, snacks, and other items. You grabbed whatever you thought a few six year olds would like, and on your way to the cashier, something caught your eye. A row of 100 yen pregnancy tests and other feminine care products. Whether it be a metaphorical gut feeling or the actual nausea that had persisted for the last few days, something told you to purchase a stick to pee on, just in case.You snuck the test into the pile of items you and the girls were purchasing. 

When the three of you got to the hostel, the girls scarfed their food down, and you tried to take little nibbles and sips of water. You put the twins down for a nap. 

You tried your best not to think about Suguru. You didn’t know what to think of him anymore. The man you spoke to the previous night could not have been your boyfriend. The Suguru you knew would never kill without a point. He would never just murder an entire village of people. 

You hoped and prayed that you were wrong. That he didn’t actually harm anyone and just showed off his curses to teach the people of the village a lesson.

Wait.

What if he was killed? 

It was all so confusing. You loved Suguru. He’s the one person who seemed to have love for you, besides your younger brother. 

Noritoshi. A pang of guilt wracked through your frame, heightening the gurgling of your stomach. 

If he murdered those non-sorcerers…you would have been deemed an accomplice. 

 So…

What would he think? 

Your baby brother?

Would he be okay? 

He’s a boy with an inherited technique in the Kamo clan. But would people look out for him? Would they keep him from your mother as well? 

In your spiral of thoughts, you noticed the 7/11 bag on the counter and remembered the supplies you bought earlier that day. You grabbed it as quietly as possible, as to not wake the girls, and stepped into the bathroom, clutching the goods inside. Your hands were shaking from lack of food over the past day and a half, but as carefully as you could, you retrieved the pregnancy test from the bag. 

The box was small, but felt so heavy in your hand. 

Why not? It probably won’t be positive, you told yourself. 

Why do I have to convince myself it won’t be positive, you thought. 

You know what, it will get my brain off of Noritoshi and Suguru for a bit, you reasoned, pulling apart the tucked in top of the box. 

After you fully unwrapped it, you read the directions, and followed suit. You put the test in the cup on the sink of the bathroom, and walked out to see the clock in the room. You waited five minutes until the results developed. 

Wait…this was probably a bad idea.

What were you thinking? 

This was so stupid why would you go and do this in the first place? 

You needed to get some air, your chest felt tight. You felt the nausea creeping back again. 

Suguru, where are you? 

You grabbed a room key off of the counter and slowly walked out into the hallway, desperately trying to keep yourself from waking the girls. One of the first things that caught your eye in the hallway was a vending machine. 

Maybe some soda would help settle your stomach? 

You walked over to the machine and plucked a few coins from your pocket, listening to them clink through the slot. You selected a Ginger Ale and Coke, reasoning that if you didn’t drink it, Suguru would when he got back.

If he got back. 

No. You can’t think like that. 

You took as long as you could getting back to the room, stepping on every other square of the carpeted floors, trying to ground yourself back to reality somehow. You arrived at the door a few minutes later and opened the door. 

The windows in your room were wide open, allowing a little breeze to blow the curtains. You dropped both bottles of soda. 

You had locked the windows before leaving the room. You made sure of it. 

You panicked, running for the girls to make sure they were okay. Alas, they were sleeping soundly, no new scratches or blood on them. 

You turned your attention to the bathroom, where the door was closed and you heard some rustling. 

Slowly making your way towards the door, you lined up your piercing blood technique, in case you were about to be attacked. 

“Baby, is that you?” you heard from the other side of the door. 

“Suguru.” You didn’t know if you should be more frightened or relieved. 

Part of you wanted nothing more than to run into his arms and kiss the scratches and dried blood away from him. Other than that, he looked relatively unharmed. His usual neat bun was not apparent on the top of his head, instead he let his hair hang loose, his bangs tied up in a messy half-up-half-down. He was dressed in all black, a dark oversized crew neck and baggy black sweats. As insinuated by the dark bags under his eyes, he didn’t look like he had eaten or slept in the past day or two. 

“Whose blood is that? Yours? Or someone else’s.” 

“That’s one way to say hello.”

“Answer.” 

“Doll, what’s wrong?”

“Suguru, are you okay?”

“My love, I took care of everything. We’ll be safe for the next few days, alright. We just have to lay low for a little while.” 

“Suguru, answer me.” 

“Shhh, everything is okay, doll. Your body's working overtime right now, and the pregnancy hormones can’t be helping.”

What? 

You stared at him. No way. 

“That test is your’s, right?” he questioned, his face filled with concern. “It’s positive.” 

You stared at him, then at the test. It was. 

“I- I’m gonna be a dad,” Suguru’s face cracked into a sincere smile. 

He picked you up and spun you around, planting kisses all over your head and face. 

“And you’re gonna be a mom! To my baby. Our baby. You’re gonna be the best mommy, you're so good with kids.” 

You stayed silent; you were still processing everything that just happened. 

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” he cradled your face gently in his hands. 

You stood frozen, thinking of words to say, but they never made it out of your mouth. Your vision went blurry with water, and the churning feeling you had been trying too hard to suppress returned to your stomach. You gagged, running over to the toilet. 

As you held yourself over the bowl, your body felt like it was trying to expel all of your organs out through your mouth. Suguru leapt to your side and held your hair back as you threw up, rubbing soothing circles into your back. 

“Shhh, baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to freak you out, this is just one of the best things that’s ever happened.” Suguru cooed. 

You took a deep breath and wiped any stray vomit from your lips with the back of your hand. 

As you hurled your guts out, you felt his large, warm hand, rubbing circles on the small of your back. The other of his hands went to hold your hair out of your face. 

You stayed like that for about an hour, just sitting there, pondering your impending motherhood. 

Mother. 

You were going to be a mother. 

It simultaneously freaked you out and surprised you. Suguru, the person you loved most in this world, actually got you pregnant. Of course he did. He always stuck to his word.

When that man was committed to something, he was going to have it. He was possessive, territorial even. That made him all the more dangerous, but it wasn’t him you were afraid of or for. You were afraid for the rest of the world. 

I’d end the world for you. 

His promise echoed in the back of your mind. 

“Sweetheart, it is going to be okay. I think I may have gotten too overexcited and freaked you out. You don’t have to keep it if you don’t want to, I’m here for whatever you need. But, thank you. Thank you for this precious gift.” 

It was a gift that forever linked the two of you together. 

… 

September 2007

You found her waiting on a bench in the center of Shinjuku, trying to find something in her pockets, probably a lighter for her cigarette. 

“Hey, need a light?” Suguru asked, offering out a lighter. 

“Hi,” you waved shyly. 

“If it isn’t the criminals, trolling girls who smoke?” Shoko replied

“Just testing our luck I guess, '' Suguru joked. 

“Mmhmm, well, I’ll go ahead and ask. Any chance the charges are fake?” 

“No, unfortunately not

“Then I’ll ask another question, why?” 

“To create a world of only Jujutsu Sorcerers,” 

“We don’t want anymore of our comrades to die,” you doubled down on Suguru’s point. 

“Ha, that doesn’t make sense, but whatever,” Shoko said, picking up her phone and dialing a number. Someone on the other line answered. 

“Hey, Gojo? 

Yeah, found ‘em. 

Shinjuku. 

No way, I don’t wanna get killed.” She said before quickly hanging up.

“Do you have the thing we talked about?” Suguru asked before walking towards the area his best friend was said to be.

“Yes, I’ve got her,” Shoko looked into his eyes, 

“Okay, I love you,” Suguru said, placing a kiss on your forehead and walking off. 

Shoko put her cigarette out. 

“Shoko I’m okay, just, um, okay how do I put this…” 

“Dude, spit it out, you're scaring me.” 

“I’m pregnant.” you blurted out. 

“Shit.” the mousy brunette replied. 

 “No, it’s okay, really, I’m happy, we’re happy, just…scared - ” 

“Did you not use protection? You of all people? The mom friend? Well, now, I guess literal mom friend,” Shoko put her hands in her hair, scrunching it out of stress, “And you’re a fugitive! Both you and Geto have been sentenced to death by the elders. Jesus Christ Y/N, how the fuck are you going to raise a child as a fucking criminal.” 

“I’m sorry Shoko, I-I couldn’t,” your last word was muffled by the huge lump in your throat. You knew Shoko of all people would rip you a new one, but you didn’t expect it to hurt this much. Tears clouded your vision, and you were sobbing so violently, that you started to choke on the snot and water running down your face. People were staring. 

“Woah, dude. Shhh, it’s okay, I’m here now,” Shoko reached down to wipe some of the snot off of your face with the sleeve of her uniform. “Come on, let’s go get you cleaned up, I have some supplies that I brought in my bag.” 

Shoko grabbed your hand and led you into the nearby metro station. You rushed past the crowds of people, until you made your way into the gate. Shoko kept leading you further underground until you reached a room that was sectioned off for mothers and infants. 

“Get inside, we shouldn’t be bothered in here for a while,” Shoko stated, her tone gentle. You walked in, and she locked the door behind you. 

The room was small, but cozy. There was an infant changing table to the right, and to the left, there was a small blue couch with a table next to it. There were a few blankets packaged in sanitary wrappers laying on the side of the couch, and the room was decorated with pastel flowers all around. You felt completely safe for the first time in a while. 

“Sit,” Shoko commanded. You complied and took a seat on the couch. 

“I got one of those portable ultrasound things from the infirmary. I don’t know why we have these things but, hey, it’s coming in handy.” 

“How did you know to bring an ultrasound kit with you?” you asked suspiciously. 

“Oh, Geto told me to bring one. So, I kind of already figured you were pregnant, or you had some kind of internal bleeding. But with the way he was being so secretive, I figured the former.” Shoko replied, fiddling with the machine. It looked like a tiny foldable computer, the probe attached to a wire that fed into the screen. 

She KNEW???

“If you knew, then why the fuck did you make me say it out loud?” you demanded. 

“Because I needed to be sure this wasn’t a trick or something to kill me,” she shot back, “If ya didn’t know, your boyfriend -” 

“Fiancé -” 

“Fiancé, whatever, killed an entire village of people.” 

“I know, but he did what he had to do. We’re trying to make the world a better place, a place without curses, so you don’t have to keep seeing people die.” You refuted. 

“I’m not talking to you about this right now, I’m here to make sure you and the fetus inside of you are okay. You chose your path, and I chose mine. I’m not trying to change your mind, what’s done is done. I don’t support what you two did, but you’re still my best friend. I’m here for you,” Shoko finished and scooched on the couch to give you a hug. You were crying again, fat tears streaming down your cheeks. 

After five minutes, you two finally parted, and Shoko reached into her bag to produce some supplies. She pulled out sanitizer, a bottle of gel, a pair of gloves, and a little blue cloth. Shoko sanitized her hands, and gave some to you as well. She then put the pair of gloves on and asked you to pull up your shirt to reveal your abdomen. Finally, she tucked the blue cloth into your pants, so that the gel would not get on it. 

“This might feel cold. I also don’t really know if I’m doing this 100% right, so, you should probably find someone with a medical degree and not just reverse curse technique to look at you,” Shoko added, the usual banter reappearing between you two. 

She squeezed some of the cold jelly-like substance on your abdomen. You winced at the uncomfortable feeling. Shoko took the end of the probe and started gently pushing it around on your stomach. After about a minute, something appeared on the little screen. 

Woah. 

That’s your kid. Your and Suguru’s baby. You started crying again. 

You loved them already, and only wished Suguru could have been here to see this. 

“Yeah, there’s a whole-ass kid in there,” Shoko confirmed.

“As opposed to a half-ass kid?” You joked. Shoko laughed. 

Next, Shoko reached into her bag, producing a thick textbook. She turned to a page that was marked by brightly-colored post-it notes. 

“Okay, based on this development textbook, you’re probably about 9 to 10 weeks along. Can you use your technique and give me a blood sample fast?” 

9 to 10 weeks. 

That’s a lot farther along than you thought. 

You took a deep breath. “Okay,” and slowly produced a handful of blood from your palm, dropping it with a PLOP into the test tube Shoko held out for you. 

“I’ll run a test on this once I get back to the infirmary at school, I just wanna check your hGC levels to make sure they’re good. But in the meantime, start taking these,” she produced yet another item from her bag. “They’re prenatal vitamins. Also, I know Geto has to have some connections somewhere with doctors. Have him find one for you. I can check on you once in a while, but not all the time or it will get suspicious. I love you, but I’m also an eighteen-year-old who doesn’t have a medical degree yet. I’ll leave first with Satoru to make sure there aren’t any sorcerers around so that you and Geto can escape. Stay safe and healthy, please,” 

“Safe and healthy, coming from the chainsmoker?” You joked. 

Shoko rolled her eyes as she gave you a final hug, exiting the room, leaving you alone with the bag of medical supplies and textbook. 

… 

Mid January, 2008 

As the months passed, you did not think it possible, yet you fell deeper in love with Suguru. He doted on you and the twins constantly, spoiling you with gifts, having his followers help construct a lavish living space for you in the back of the monastery. Mimiko and Nanako shared a large room, their western-style four poster beds were adorned with silks and all of the stuffed animals they could desire. They had large walk-in closets full of dress-up gowns and expensive designer brands.

“Only the best for my girls,” Suguru would say. 

As for you, he had a beautiful master suite built, the double walk-in closet filled with comfortable, yet elegant, maternity clothing and a California king bed dwarfing the rest of the room. The walls were painted white with navy and gold accents throughout the room. 

When he was not tending to his cult, Suguru also kept you close to him as much as possible. Sometimes, he would even have you sit with him as you both tended to his followers throughout the day, him consuming their curses and you collecting their money. 

Though he saw you as an equal, he was still overly protective and territorial of you now that you were carrying his child. He would sit you down on his lap in front of your followers, his hands caressing your now-evident baby bump, proclaiming to both you and the people in the cult that you were a goddess among mere mortals. When the monastery was empty, sometimes he would just sit and hold you, breathing in your scent. You would sit like that for an hour sometimes, him feeling the baby kick against his large palms, trailing kisses up and down your nape. You would curl yourself up as much as you could to put your ear to his chest, his heartbeat drumming with excitement.  

When you weren’t helping Suguru, you were with the twins. Playing with them, going on walks, teaching them little things about the world that they missed while living in that cursed village. They were really excited to have a new sibling and talked about all of the clothes they would dress the new baby in. You had to remind them, of course, that the baby was not a doll. They also threw out name suggestions, but you had to tell them that unfortunately, “Princess,” and “Hello Kitty,” were not appropriate names to call their soon to be baby sibling. 

At the end of your long days tending to the needs of non-sorcerers that were actually useful to your cause, Suguru would have you both change out of your robes and start to cook dinner while you played with the girls. True, he could have hired someone to cook for your little family, but he wanted to take it upon himself to make sure that you were getting all of the nutrients and rest you and the twins possibly could. 

You somehow succeeded in carving out a nice life for yourself under the harshest of circumstances. Sure, it wasn’t the utopia you and Suguru had always imagined all of those nights back at Jujutsu High, but you had a little family of your own and were working towards a better, safer world. 

… 

After he finished tucking the girls into bed one night, you curled up with Suguru on the couch, your head tucked against his chest, and knees in between his hips, using him as a body pillow. One of his hands was around you and the other was used to cradle his head on the arm of the couch as you both laid there. 

None of your pre-maternity pants fit you anymore, so you threw on a pair of Suguru’s gray sweats and a white t-shirt. You practically lived in his clothes at this point. 

He started rubbing small, gentle circles on your swollen belly, seemingly in awe of your changing body. If you ever got insecure about your stretch marks, or how much weight you gained, he would make you stand in front of the mirror in your shared chambers, kissing every inch of your body. In the shower, he would take the time to wash your hair and help you shave. He wanted to let you know that you weren’t alone. Suguru was right there the whole time. 

You felt a fluttering in your stomach where he was rubbing your belly, and Suguru gasped, breaking the serene silence. 

“Hi, baby,” he whispered to your bump. Joy flashed through his tired eyes as his lips curved into a dopey smile. Then, he leaned up to press sweet, wet kisses into your neck. 

“The most beautiful woman in the world. How did I get so lucky?” Suguru cooed. 

“You’re stunning,” he continued, pulling you into a deep, passionate kiss. 

Since falling pregnant, you were sensitive to the slightest touch. Your fiancé was sensitive to the slightest glance from you. Your sexual appetites had grown increasingly insatiable. 

From his words and kisses, you could feel yourself drenching your underwear. As Suguru’s tongue continued to slither into your mouth, you absentmindedly started grinding against his muscled thigh, the friction feeling delicious on your clit. 

“Ngh- Sugu- p-please touch me. No teasing. Need you,” you moaned. 

“Do you need my fingers? I bet I can take you right now from how soaked you are,” he purred. 

“Don’t care. Want something inside,” you whined. 

“Lemme check you first. Don’t wanna hurt you.” And with that, he felt your soaked, clothed cunt through your pants and underwear. You were so wet, that a dark, sticky patch was starting to form on your sweatpants. You nearly ripped the pants off of you in the midst of your carnal need to have some part of him, any part of him, filling you. 

Suguru got right to work, stripping you of the layers concealing you from him. After a few circles on your clit, he sunk his middle finger into your cunt. There was no resistance; he was able to sink his finger all the way down to his knuckle. So, he added a second finger, which you took just as easily. 

You felt relieved to finally have something for your fluttering hole to suck on, but you needed more. You needed to be stuffed to the brim, completely full of him. 

“Suguru I need you inside,” you gasped, your cunt continuing to clench on his thick fingers. 

“Whatever you want, my love,” he replied, slipping his fingers out. You almost cried at the loss of contact, but you knew you were about to be rewarded tenfold. Suguru pushed his sticky fingers into your mouth as he rearranged the two of you. You licked his fingers clean, and he let out an unrestrained moan at the way you deepthroated his digits. 

Suguru sat you up, and scooted himself against the back of the sofa. He took his length out from his underwear, letting it smack his stomach, the tip weeping precum. Suguru removed his fingers from your mouth and used the remaining spit to cover his cock; a makeshift lube for the two of you. While he stroked himself, you climbed up on his lap and attacked his mouth with fiery, desperate kisses. 

He helped you remove your top, and then shed his remaining clothing articles. When he took your top off, you could tell that Suguru’s thoughts about the day had gone out the window. Suguru always had a fascination with your tits, now even more so that your tits had grown at least 2 cup sizes since pregnancy. He took one of your pert nipples into his mouth, sucking softly and grinding up into your wet heat, letting a grunt rumble through his chest.  

“Love, please,” you cried out, tears threatening to spill down your face.

With your pleading, he helped you to climb on top of him and lined his cock up with your greedy cunt. You slowly sunk down on his dick, feeling every ridge and vein inside of you. You both hissed as he breached your tight hole. 

Finally, you thought. 

Suguru resumed his sucking on your nipple, moaning around your soft mound, sending vibrations through your body. You were so overstimulated and sensitive that you felt like you were about to cum right there and then. 

He could feel that you were close by the death grip you had on his cock. So, he reached one of his large hands down from your waist and found your clit. You sunk your nails into his wide shoulders in response. 

“Give it to me,” Suguru growled on his way to give your other nipple the same treatment. 

The coil in your tummy snapped, the sensations driving you hard into your climax. Suguru moved to nibble on your earlobe, whispering what a good girl you were. 

As you came down from your high, Suguru’s hands moved down to your bump, staring in awe. 

“I told you I love this tummy,” he commented, his large hand splaying across your bellybutton. He pressed his forehead against yours. “I think it’s so beautiful, that your body submitted to mine.” 

“Mr. Geto,” you said with a fake gasp, sarcasm dripping from your voice, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re getting off on my predicament, you pervert.” 

“Touché,” he smirked. “I think it’s hot your body is going through all of these changes, just because of me. You’re mine,” he growled out the last words. 

“I’m yours,” you confirmed. 

“Suguru, I’m tired, I don’t know if I have the energy to ride you like this.” You realized he still hadn’t cum yet, he was probably in pain with the deep arousal he felt. 

“Okay, I’ll carry you to bed and we can finish there,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead and slipped out of you, your juices trailing behind in a sticky string where you were formerly connected 

He then picked you up, bridal style, and started the short walk towards your room. The cool air felt sensitive against your hot pussy and swollen clit, your arousal and cum now rolling in small beads down the back of your thighs. 

He set you on your side on top of your California king mattress, covered in fine fabric sheets. Then, he took one of the large decorative pillows and pushed it in between your knees to allow him easy access to your cunt. This position would also allow some relief to your aching lower back. Suguru knew you loved it when he massaged your back, so he started there, pushing circles into the sore muscle and kissing up your spine. 

His erection rubbed up against the back of your thighs, rendering the both of you delirious. 

When you both couldn’t take it anymore, he finally slipped into your warm, wet heat again. 

“How would you like me to fuck you, love?” Suguru questioned. 

“Slow and deep. Wanna feel all of you,” you drooled.

“Mmm, sounds perfect,” he responded, pressing wet kisses into your neck. With that, Suguru started a long, deep thrust into the depths of your pussy. You felt every part of him; every ridge, every vein. You made a sound that you didn’t even know could come out of you. 

Suguru picked up the pace a little bit, leaving little whimpers and groans in your ear as he rutted into you. Suguru was usually pretty reserved during sex, but he recently started to be more vocal for you. It spurred you on even more, made you even more aroused, which felt impossible at this point. 

“I love it when you whimper-nGHH,” you moaned, as Suguru punctuated the end of your sentence with a particularly harsh thrust. The sex started to feel desperate, animalistic almost. Suguru felt something primal within him snap. He needed to fill you, to stuff you so full, he would watch his cum leak out of your pussy. 

“Suugguuhh-“ you felt your second orgasm of the night closing in on you. 

“Cum with me, doll, lemme fill you, ngh, u-up,” he grunted, moving a hand down to toy with your clit. “You look s-so good, full of me. Ngh- your tummy all round, tits all plump, making milk for my m-my baby,”

For some reason, that sent you over the edge, clamping down on his cock and coming hard. Your cunt sucked him in with a firm grip, and you could feel that he was close too. As he continued to fuck you through your climax, his heavy balls slapped once more against your thighs, and he came with a gasp, a series of, “I love you’s” and “Thank you’s” flooding from his mouth. 

He fucked himself through his orgasm, and finally collapsed into the mattress. After a few minutes, Suguru pulled out, watching in awe as his release dripped out of your hole. His fingers traveled down to the mess the two of you made and swiped his pointer and middle fingers through your folds. 

“I probably sound like a broken record, but I don’t know what I did in my past life to deserve you,” he said, kissing the top of your head, moving both of his hands to rest on your bump again. 

“C'mon, let’s clean you up, doll,” he said, trying to drag you out of bed. But you were already fast asleep. 

Suguru smiled to himself, running to the bathroom to get some warm compresses and clean towels. When he finished cleaning you up as best he could, he made his way to his closet, where he fetched his favorite graphic t-shirt. He handled you with more care than he would a butterfly or a flower as he dressed you, and headed to the bathroom to clean himself up. 

After he deemed himself decent enough, Suguru walked over to your sleeping form and bent down to the level where your belly was. He criss crossed his hands and rested his chin on them. 

“I love you and your mommy so much, little one. You’re so loved already,” he whispered, reaching one of his hands towards your belly. 

Suddenly, he felt a small fluttering beneath his hand. Suguru smiled, his eyes alive with pride and wonder.

… 

The next morning, you awoke to the smell of something delicious. 

And four little feet running across the floor.

“Shhh, Nanako, you’re gonna wake up Kamo-san,” Mimiko warned her sister. 

“It’s okay girls, I’m already up,” you sighed, yawning. “You girls sleep good?” 

“Yeah. Can we get crepes today?” Nanako asked, changing topics rather quickly. 

“It depends on what time me and Suguru get done at the monastery, but there should be enough time. The baby has been craving some chocolate,” you chuckled.

“I have a new name for the baby,” Mimiko declared, starting to climb on your bed.

“Oh, yeah? What?” You scoop her up and bring her into your lap somewhat successfully. 

“Peach. Like the princess,” Mimiko said, matter of factly. She looked down right proud of herself. 

“Mimiko, that’s a fruit. I think it should be Sparkles,” Nanako responded back to her sister. 

“Well, we’ll have time to think about what the baby’s name should be, but for right now…I think we should eat some breakfast and see who can get dressed the fastest,” 

“Geto-san made some breakfast,” Mimiko stated. 

“And I helped,” Nanako exclaimed, attempting to have her voice heard in the conversation.

“I helped too,” Mimiko scolded with jealousy. 

“Why don’t you girls go help set the table too and I’ll be there in a minute,” you said, pressing kisses to their foreheads. 

“Fineee,” Mimiko rolled her eyes playfully. 

You freshened up, brushing your teeth and wrapping your body in a luxurious silk robe Suguru had purchased for you. 

As you made your way down the long corridor and into the kitchen, you could hear the sizzle of something cooking. You turned the corner to find Suguru, shirtless, standing over the stove of your enormous kitchen. You decide to sneak up on him, letting your finger creep around his waist as you pulled him back into a hug. You couldn’t press yourself flush against him, as your stomach got in the way. 

“There’s my girl,” Suguru cooed. 

“You’re making breakfast?” You beamed with tears in your eyes at the stack of American-style pancakes next to the stove. For some reason, this small gesture was making you really emotional. 

“Of course, baby. I let the chef take off this morning to spend some time with my beautiful girls before I have to head over,” he replied, snaking his arm back to grab on to yours and place a kiss on your palm.

It was so domestic. It was so normal. 

“Okay, order’s up. Mimi, Nana, will you help me put these on the table?” Suguru asked.

“Yes Geto-san,” Mimiko sang as she skipped towards the tower of the fluffy, golden deliciousness. 

“Thank you, sweetie,” Suguru whispered, giving her hair a ruffle. 

…

After the pancakes were eaten, and the syrup had ended up on the faces of the twins and Suguru, you pried the girls out of their seats to get dressed for the day. You and Suguru headed back to your quarters to change into your robes. 

As you let the luscious silk fabric cascade off of your body as down to the floor of your shared closet space, you felt the presence of your fiancé behind you. 

“Hi,” he smirked into your shoulder, starting to press kisses up your neck. 

“Hi,” you whispered back. 

One of his large hands reached down to your bump, caressing it with the lightest of touches. 

“Can I listen to her?” He asked like a giddy child. 

“My love, you never have to ask, you’re always welcome to,” you beam as he excitedly makes his way towards your protruding bump. “Baby’s been hanging out towards the bottom today if you want to feel them move,” you added. 

“Hi baby girl, this is your da-” 

“Baby girl? What makes you think the baby's a girl?”

“What makes you think she’s not?” he quipped, his usual banter-like tone making you giggle. 

“As a wise man once said to me; touché.” The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, soaking in each other’s presence. After all, slow moments like this would be rare when the baby arrived. 

Your peace was disrupted by a loud knock at the door. 

“Geto-sama, Kamo-san, there is someone here to see you, he says it is urgent” you heard Suguru’s assistant shout through the door. 

“Tell whoever it is that they have no right to request my presence. I will meet with them when I am in my proper attire,” Suguru snapped. 

“Of course, master. It’s just… this kid…” 

“No exceptions, I don’t care if it’s Satoru fucking Gojo himself, whoever it is can wait,” Suguru pressed, getting annoyed now. 

“Yes, of course, I wi-AHHHHHH,” a blood curdling scream erupted from the other side of the door, followed by a loud thump. 

Sensing danger, Suguru leapt into action, putting himself in front of you and summoning a curse. “Who’s. There,” he demanded. 

Blood started to leak under the door and into the marble tiles of your room. 

Suddenly, the door flew open to reveal the collapsed assistant on the floor, covered in her own blood. Next to the body, there was the figure of a small boy drenched in the scarlet substance. 

“Noritoshi?” you questioned, tears filling your eyes.

…

END OF PART I

dividers by @bunnysrph

#geto #jjk #jjk geto #jjk suguru #jujutsu kaisen fic #suguru smut #suguru geto smut #suguru x you #jjk x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #jjk spoilers #gojo satoru #shoko ieiri #fem reader

[not-handsome-enough]

DICK KNUBBLER MAYE STILL BE ALIVE

Kinda

Alright before I do anything take this with a grain of salt, cause it’s probably a continuity error / can be easily explained away BUT if you all would like to hold onto some hope please just hear me out. And also it offers a question for yall.

Alright! So!

On twitter someone had asked Brendon and Gene about Murmaider III and its placement on Dethalbum IV ( which btw shoutout to Gene’s wife that was brilliant ) and Brendon had mentioned that what sets 3 apart from the other two was that it was more dreamlike, and that it was made AFTER Army of the Doomstar. Now since Brendon and Gene weren’t the ones to make the order on the Album we can’t set a timeline for the songs ( though they are set in Brutal to Dreamlike order once again shoutout to Genes wife you goddess ) we can at least say that some songs were made post Army. In fact we could also make some assumptions about what songs were made DURING army. So I’ll separate that list here.

NOTE : YALL DONT NEED TO READ THIS PART THIS IS JUST ME RUNNING WITH “ some songs were made post AOTD which ones could they be teehee “ JUST KNOW MURMAIDER AND SOS WERE AFTER KUBBLER DIED OK SORRy I’m not deleting that whole thing I like it

Songs with “ * “ are canon, the rest are personal interpretation.

DURING ARMY OF THE DOOMSTAR:

* Aortic Desecration ( the first song of salvation but obviously not )

* SOS ( song of salvation )

Gardener of Vengeance ( Nathan directly references this during the scene where he confides in the band and Knubbler that he doesn’t write songs about hope and he’s just doing what he knows. I believe he wrote and recorded this but felt it wasn’t good enough to be the song of salvation and moved on. HOWEVER the language he used could place this as post AOTD because it sounds more like a thrown out there example kinda like how he figured out SOS in the cave )

Poisoned By Food ( Again I think this is a scrapped song of salvation since besides the actual poisoning of food a lot of the imagery feels like the what the metalocalypse was described like )

BLOODBATH ( guess what another scrapped song of salvation. This one feels like a ‘you don’t scare me I’m going to confidently stop you because if I go down you go down with me’ song. Also it could be Nathan trying to reach out to Magnus since he was one of the people on his list. Also quick note I’m going song by song so I don’t know if I’ll notice if any other songs would reflect the list I just got out of work so I’m not gonna catch it all rn )

Horse of Fire ( this is tricky because lyrics like star still blazing allude to this being written before aortic desecration but also Nathan didn’t have the talk with the whale until the deadline came up in which he had to go with aortic desecration <he wouldn’t have had time to write about the fist or the hand.> But the lyrics don’t have the <we should reach out to the fans> revelation that SOS has. Maybe this was a draft for SOS but I think once Nathan figured out what SOS was meant to be it just came to him naturally. I’m not sure. HOWEVER since the doomstar is referred to as a star that is still blazing and not a portal that’s been destroyed it’s safe to say this is not post AOTD. Either way this is an important song to keep in mind if you look at this speculating )

POST ARMY OF THE DOOMSTAR:

* Murmaider III ( stated by Brendon Small in the interview. He said he feels that the boys would have written this after AOTD and based off of interviews he’s had in the past about his songwriting process it’s hard to not take this as canon so. )

DEADFACE ( I think this is post because while the song plays during the movie only Skwisgaar knew about the possession so the lyrics wouldn’t quite make sense yet. It’s a tricky placement but I can see Skwisgaar playing around with it since he does play the notes during the movie )

Mutilation on a Saturday Night ( this feels so much like a we survived so now we’re gonna party song I can’t see Nathan Skwisgaar or Pickles make an argument for this being a Song of Salvation. Also all the fucked up shit they talk about references what happened during the metalocalypse but it’s spoken in past tense like a ‘hey we fucked shit up but we fixed it so now we’re just gonna keep fucking around haha’)

I am The Beast ( simply cause I don’t see this as something Nathan would write during AOTD but the ‘ I am a beast this is my domain and when I speak you scream my name ‘ could work as a salvation line but it feels too much like a Mutilation Saturday Night ‘I can write whatever I want cause I lived and I’m not gonna hold back’ vibe )

Satellite Bleeding ( this feels like the first song they would have written and recorded after the doomstar died. Kinda like watching the sky clear up after a storm. )

Now despite me rambling on about this I would like to draw attention to what’s canon. Specifically SOS and Murmaider III. These songs came out after Knubbler died. Yet Dethalbum IV credits Knubbler for production.

Drawing your attention to how crediting in the Dethalbum works, each album has a little section for Dethklok to get musical credits and thank whoever and whatever. There’s also production credit and location credit. On ALL of the Dethalbums Knubbler is credited as producer. Cause he’s the producer makes sense yeayeyaeyah. But whenever there’s a change in location or production, there’s additional credits.

ANOTHER NOTE: I DONT HAVE THE KLOK OPERA CD I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THE CREDITING SYSTEM LOOKS LIKE ON THERE but if someone happens to be selling that cd outside of eBay please let me know

Let’s look at them.

Dethalbum I ^

Shit ton of credits right, and on the other page which I didn’t take a picture of and can’t because I’m not home at the moment there’s credit to Snakes N Barrels for “Kill You” with each member listed. Take note that songs that are considered exceptions are credited differently and locations not at Mordhaus are credited.

I lied I have the other page. For those without the dethalbum cds the actual credits are usually on another page and “Kill You” got mixed in with it

Anyways

Dethalbum II

Hey Knubbies gets to thank someone this time! Anyways once again Knubbler is credited for production, but also Dethklok. Keep this in mind. Also the fact that different location credited for Murmaider II but it’s recorded at Mordhaus

Dethalbum III

Knubbler credit AND Abigail credit along with Dethklok AND once again location credit is Mordhaus and another fuckass place. Only thing that’s not really credited is Magnus with The Hammer but idk if he was like Toki and William where they play the songs but don’t really write or if he actually wrote The Hammer. I’m not a HammerHead, I’ve seen people interpret him as both, but at the end of the day idrk.

So what about Dethalbum IV

Knubbler is credited. At Deus Keep. Only Knubbler. Only at Deus Keep. “But he’s not credited as a Producer” True! If the album was released in universe it would probably be a producer credit. Especially since Brendon and Ulrich have Producer credit on the page prior. Maybe it’s because Knubbler didn’t make it to the final production stage. Or maybe he’s staying hidden undercover..

Remember earlier. He canonically was not around for two of these songs on this album. He could not have recorded OR mixed SOS or Murmaider III. Even if you don’t fully think that Murmaider III was made Post AOTD, SOS was done post Knubbler death. Hell, the song was dedicated to him by William! But there’s no separate credit for SOS.

If we went on the same basis as previous albums SOS would have been credited to that part of Norway where they traveled to that I forgot the name of and I’m not gonna look up but you get the point. Or even Dethklok would have been credited as production. I could also say something about how Murmaider III wasn’t recorded in the Mariana Trench and how the whale isn’t calling to Nathan anymore but that’s for another day. Right now though, it’s just Knubbler. Just Knubbler and Deus Keep.

Which leads to 3 possibilities.

Knubbler Lives: Knubbler survived ( the flashing things on the ground were teleporters ) and Deus Keep is rebuilt. To celebrate their survival they make Dethalbum IV but don’t release it

Knubbler Died: The band recorded the last few songs on the album at the remains of Deus Keep. Knubblers presets aren’t changed so credit remains to him. Once again not releasing it.

It’s not an album: Dethalbum IV doesn’t exist in universe. That’s why there’s no producer credit. That’s why Nathan doesn’t thank the klokateers ( he thanks the army of the doomstar which is just him thanking fans ). Dethklok recording it post AOTD is more to do with how Brendon records dethalbums than in universe writing.

I like to think that this is just an unreleased album in universe since the record label is more than likely destroyed, but it has the possibility of releasing one day if society is rebuilt to what it once was. But it really depends on if you think the album is canon to the universe. Cause there’s no Mordhaus credit on Dethalbum IV and there’s no way for SOS to have been recorded at Deus Keep and blablabla

something fun to think about tho yk?

TLDR: two songs on dethalbum IV were made after Knubbler death yet the credit doesn’t change for him in the dethalbum so there’s a chance that he recorded and mixed those songs cause he is alive and well horray

#metalocalypse #take this with a massive grain of salt #take it with a rock of salt tbh #dick knubbler #I’m rambling like crazy but :( #also I just noticed on dethalbum IV it’s the first time Murderface isn’t placed last in credits #I’ll be honest if Knubbler wasn’t credited at all on dethalbum IV I would have cried very much #I FORGOT TO SPOILER THIS I AM SO SORRY #ARMY OF THE DOOMSTAR SPOILER #SORRY #ARMY OF THE DOOMSTAR

[futureforged]

So if that reply was anything to go by— SMACKS LIPS—

Jayce finds no issue in automatically moving to comfort others. It’s not quite instinctual, but for his Arcane verse? He is a soft hearted man who, if he is close to someone, he will not blink at shifting in to offer comfort how he can. He is very tall, broad, and you cannot tell me he doesn’t look like he gives the best hugs, the kind that fully encompass you and feel so warm and soft but incredibly grounded in how solid they feel.

#I mentioned this in another post but he will either reach for a hand to smooth his thumb over in comfort #Or hold a shoulder and give it a squeeze #But if you’re someone he’s close to and he is comfortable around #He will hold you #➤ ꜰɪʟᴇᴅ ᴀꜱ . . . // ooc rambles. | to be deleted. #➤ ꜰɪʟᴇᴅ ᴀꜱ . . . // dash commentary.

[shemaycry]

Girl, I'm into it, I'm into it, I'm into it. RYOMEN SUKUNA

SUMMARY ୨˚̣̣̣୧ periods are shitty, annoying punishments for not getting pregnant. luckily, sukuna is sweet enough to help the pain.

　 ྀི　𓂃 period sex. so descriptions of blood, if you don’t like that please don’t read the fic. | semi mean dom! sukuna | ooc sukuna | rough sex | squirting | minor anal play | multiple orgasms | praise & degradation | sukuna mocks reader’s moans | breeding kink | mentions of getting reader pregnant | dacryphilia | etc.

NOTE ୨˚̣̣̣୧ i’m currently on my period & i also find period sex hot asf so there you go. i know a few people don’t like it, so if you are one of them— turn away! this was originally gonna be either noritoshi or choso (blood techniques) but i decided on sukuna 🫶🏾 please excuse typos & grammar mistakes i posted this late!

“Damnit woman, which one is it?”

“Sukuna, I sent a fucking picture for a reason!” You yelled down the phone, eyebrows pinched close as annoyance flooded through your body. Between your lover’s idiotic tendencies and the fact it felt like a hundred soldiers were tap dancing on your uterus— you had little care if your words were rude.

Still, the man gave a sharp watch your tone; before turning the phone to allow you to see the display case of pads.

“Just tell me which one, so I can leave already.”

You sucked your teeth, bringing the phone closer and squinting at the screen. You couldn’t be entirely mad at the man, given he went to the store for you graciously with only a single eye roll. A few of your female friends don’t have the same luck with their partners. But still, what was so hard about looking at the picture you sent— and then grabbing that pack?

A soft huff escaped, “That one.. it’s uh— the purple one. Long with wings.”

You watched as his tatted hand reached for the correct pack, even pushing it into the camera for further confirmation.

“These are huge..”

You felt warmth flood through your cheeks, giving a sharp just buy the damn pads, before ending the call. You tossed your phone to the side, turning to curl up into a ball whilst your arms hugged your stomach. Soft groans escaped you with each cramp, attempting to find a comfortable position to get into.

You tried a heating pad, a hot shower, and even pills to minimize the pain— and yet, it still remained. At the same exact intensity as it was this morning.

Another groan escaped you, body turning to lay on your stomach and your face into your pillow. The softness of your towel grazed your stomach and bare thighs, the only comforting thing at the moment.

Whilst delving in your own misery, the bedroom door opened, revealing your loving boyfriend and the bag of pads.

Sukuna took one look at your helpless state and laughed to himself, tossing the bag to the edge of the bed. “Cramps kicking your ass, huh?”

You could only groan, rolling onto your back and sinking into the bed. You glanced at the man, spotting his back to you as he snatched the black hoodie off his body; revealing his tattooed back. Your eyes then flicked to the ceiling, lids fluttering shut.

“I tried a shower.. pills, everything Kuna. This sucks..”

“Tried an orgasm?”

You gave a soft sound of disapproval. You were aware of the method, the pleasant feeling sure to rid you of your cramps— but the thought of such a mess wasn’t something you were into. Nor did you think Sukuna was in, either.

Until.. a tight lock around your ankle caused your thoughts to cease, gasping as you were suddenly dragged towards the edge of the bed. Your eyes flew open, staring up at the man who was currently situating your legs onto his hips.

“Sukuna, what..”

“You’re gonna keep complaining about the cramps, might as well get rid of them.” Sukuna claimed, acting as if it was the most obvious thing ever. He leaned down, lips finding yours in an instant, a heated kiss being shared between the two of you.

Your hands found his shoulders, sliding across his bare hot skin— groaning the moment his thick, wet muscle intruded your mouth. Naturally your hands were sliding up, fingers curling into his pink tresses for leverage. Despite how good the kiss was, your mind couldn’t shake the nervousness that surrounded you. Having sex on your period just seemed like a mess waiting to happen.

Surely Sukuna would get grossed out, right? But.. he did offer. You were going through the motions, weighing the options, and absentmindly pulling away from the kiss. You hadn’t realized until a sharp voice interrupted your thinking once more.

“Always thinking so damn hard..” Sukuna spoke, pushing his hips forward. The man grinned as your hand fell to his waist, watching you stifle a quiet groan. He began to reach down, gripping your wrist and yanking it up to press against the bed. The glint in his eyes was all too familiar, something that always caused a heat of warmth to spread throughout your body.

Yet, that still wasn’t enough to shake the anxiety.

“Sukuna..” You gasped as the man moved closer, finding your neck to kiss and nip. Your stomach was stirring, arousal pooling between your legs. “— it’s.. a mess, baby. Are you su—?”

“Would I be touching you if I wasn’t sure?” He interrupted, his free hand gliding down the plane of your body. Without hesitation the man was breaching your shorts and panties, spreading your wet folds to rub at your clit. “Keep interrupting me..” Sukuna warned, biting at your throat— causing you to whine.

Your hips rose into the feeling, his two thick digits rubbing tight circles onto your swelling bud. Your arousal was building, surely soiling both his hand and shorts— but neither of you cared in the moment. Instead, Sukuna seemed to chase this; gliding his fingers down to sink into your entrance, easily.

Plunging inside, curling at your spongy walls— your legs were opening wider as the pleasure began to consume your body, dulling your mind. You hadn’t even realized your hand was free until you felt him flip your shirt up and grab your breast. His thumb brushed across your nipple, it hardening under his touch and the cool air.

Sukuna continued to tweak the hardened bud, scissoring his fingers inside of you all while a grin played at his lips. “You were so against it just a second ago, and yet..” His eyes dipped to where his hand currently was, a third finger pushing inside to meet his other two. “— you’re moving your hips so eagerly.”

Your moans were more vocal at this point, pitching into whines each time his fingers curled to press against that special spot. Your stomach clenched with each thrust, feeling a pressure build inside of you. “K—kuna, mm..!” You could barely speak, hand gripping the towel underneath you as you began to fuck your self on his fingers. A difficult task given the position, but one the man definitely encouraged.

“Mm.. that’s it, keep ruining yourself on my fingers, sweetheart.” Sukuna was clearly enjoying this more than you, leaning down to swipe his tongue across your bud just to watch you shiver. You were sensitive, painfully so, that each movement had you trembling as if he had touched you hundred times. His watchful eyes were eating it all, casting an image to save for a later date.

Soon enough the pressure was forming, becoming too much like a bubble ready to burst. Your head leaned back into the bed, lips parted as soft whines escaped. “Su—sukuna, fuck, fuck! I’m close—!” Your back arched the moment his thrusts became more intense, a blinding white passing through your eyes before you came— legs shaking around his form.

Sukuna’s fingers slowed but didn’t stop, mixing up your fluids and throughly fucking you through your high. The man ignored your sensitive whines until he was satisfied, pulling his fingers out soon after. Your lover was unfazed by the red mess staining his tattooed appendage, simply wiping it against the towel underneath. “Made such a mess..”

“Don’t make make fun of me, Sukuna. That was embarrassing enough.”

Your boyfriend grinned, fingers hooking onto your shorts and panties to slowly tug down. “Embarrassing? I wouldn’t know, given how much you were moaning just a minute ago.” The cackle he released was downright maniacal, tossing your clothes to the side whilst going for his own.

Your body was hot, cheeks puffed as you attempted to glare at him. “Whateve—er..” Your words dragged the moment his cock began to tap against your clit, the man gliding it along your slit carefully.

“You say something?” Sukuna mocked, a hand reaching to your thigh and pushing you up farther onto the bed. He continued to glide himself between your folds, watching your stomach tense each time his tip made contact with your sensitive bud.

The anticipation was welling inside your stomach, fingers gripping the towel as you rose to grind against him— gasping the moment he began to enter you. Sukuna fed you inch by inch slowly, pushing deep into you whilst the reddened arousal was tainted his cock. The thought of doing this.. was gross, weird, and something you definitely wouldn’t do.

But now? While in the act. The only thing you could think about was how good he was stretching you; filling you up so easily and then some. Your legs were shaking around him, his name falling for your lips in a honeyed gasp as you slowly became adjusted.

Sukuna leaned over your body, a hand falling to your throat to direct you; forcing eye contact. “Don’t go dumb yet, I just started.” He grinned, rising you up a bit to snatch your lips in a deep kiss— while pulling his hips back at the same time.

The first thrust was always so deep and harsh, making your legs bounce and your thoughts go slack. Within a minute, Sukuna started a bruising pace inside; fucking you deep into the mattress all while kissing you so sweetly. The differences were making your head spin, unable to focus on a complete feeling before the other fought to take over.

You breathed heavily into his mouth, struggling to keep up with his tongue all while his length fucked into you. His hand suddenly fell from your neck down to your thigh, gripping it tightly and pushing it up.

The raise position caused your head to fall back into the bed, moans escaping you freely as your trembling hand suddenly fell to his waist. “Sh—shit.. Kuna, hah..! Feels so good, fuck—!”

Your cries were music to his ears, even enjoying the way your pretty manicured fingers dragged across his lower stomach with each thrust.

Sukuna leaned even closer, using his body weight to fold you like some damn chair. The stretch in your muscles washed away with each slam into your messy cunt, your walls clinging to him as a desperate pressure formed in your stomach. Your words were jumbling together, moans broken as tears welled in your eyes.

The man grinned at the display, cock twitching in your wet sex with each thrust. “Can’t even fucking think, can you? Should have fucked you dumb like this earlier..” Sukuna claimed, a hand falling between the two of you to press against your stomach. He felt himself inside you, his ego swelling more and more.

You were so close now, back arching up off the bed as your legs trembled. The band inside you was growing thinner and thinner, desperate moans escaping your lips.

And yet, Sukuna stopped suddenly— right when you were about to hit your peak. You felt the disappointment crash down on you in an instant, glaring up at the man with glossy eyes.

“Su—sukuna, why would you do that?!” You whined, feeling your irritation grow when you noticed the grin on his face.

Instead of replying, however, Sukuna leaned up from his previous position; your legs falling to his hips. In one swift movement he was switching you onto your stomach, hooking his arms under your legs to bring you to your knees.

Before you could think he was sinking back inside of you, hand sliding to your back to arch you even further. This position left you far too vulnerable, the man fucking you into the mattress with no way to move away or escape.

Your face was mushed against the wet towel and sheets, crumbling them within your hands as desperate, pleasurable cries escaped you. He was stirring with up inside, hips slamming against your ass and causing your body to shake.

Sukuna’s hands laid a bruising grip on your hips, eyes focused on your body. He was entranced by it; the recoil of your ass, the way a creamy ring was forming around the base of his dick, and the way you not so subtly tried to move away from the thrusts.

“Oh, is it too much, brat? You want me to slow down don’t you?..” Like he would. You and him both knew that wasn’t going to happen. The knowledge solidifying the moment his hand rose to grab a nice handful of your braids, gently tugging to get you onto your hands.

“..Messy fucking pussy— don’t try to run, take this dick.”

You cried out as his free hand suddenly slammed against your cheek, the stinging pain shooting right between your legs; increasing your arousal. Your walls were clinging to him, clenching each time his tip brushed against that perfect spot inside you.

The man suddenly released your hand, your body falling to the bed as he continued to fuck into you. Sukuna’s large hands fell to your cheeks, separating them for the perfect look. “Mm.. shouldn’t neglect this hole either.” Your lover suddenly dragged in a soft tone, one you nearly didn’t catch. Until his thumb was suddenly sliding against your puckered hole, pushing in carefully.

The sudden intrusion caused your body to lunge, shaking as whines escaped you. His free hand massaged your ass as if to soothe you, continuing to push it in until he reach the knuckle.

The foreign sensation took a moment, tight entrance clenching around the digit. But the moment you relaxed, a new found pleasure washing over you; your arousal increasing, and dripping all down his cock.

“Sukuna.. fuck! Please, please, please—!” You were pleading so loudly now, tears trickling down your cheeks, as you rutted back against him; pushing your ass into his lower stomach.

Sukuna grinned at this, leaning over your body; hitting your deep all while mocking your moans right in your ear. “Clenchin’ me so damn much, fucking close aren’t you? Bet you wanted this even more then I did, such a damn freak..” His words came out in a soft hiss, slamming himself deep as his cock twitched, his own climax quickly approaching.

You gripped the sheets, back arched into his hot body as broken babbles of his name escaped. Within minutes you were cumming, making a complete mess on both him and underneath you.

Yet his hips never stopped, the intensity never dulling despite your body going slack against the bed. You whined as the sensitivity began to grow, fisting the blankets for leverage.

“Fu—fuck, Sukuna— I can’t..”

“You can.. was being so fucking good for me, don’t stop now.” Sukuna groaned, fingers digging into you as his thrusts became desperate. “Milkin my dick, shit— want me to fill you up, don’t you? Maybe even put a baby in this pretty fucking stomach, so you won’t have to worry about cramps.”

The thought caused your head to spin, unable to say a word and instead nodding repeatedly. Sukuna chuckled at this for a moment before his eyebrows furrowed, pushing himself deep before releasing inside.

Heavy pants covered the room as you came down from your highs, a sharp groan escaping you as he removed both his thumb and length from within you. Your hips lowered to the bed, cheek brushing against the blankets.

As your legs moved, the sticky feeling between them caused you to cringe— tilting to glance at the man.

“Sukuna..”

He grinned a little at you, hand smoothing across your back. “Yeah, yeah.. I’ll help you clean up.”

comments & reblogs are appreciated

#▌ ִ ♱⠀ׂ ִ GOOEY ⸺ FICS. 𒀭 #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryoumen smut #ryomen sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x fem reader #ryomen sukuna x black reader #ryomen sukuna x reader smut #sukuna x reader #sukuna x fem reader #sukuna x black reader #sukuna x reader smut #sukuna smut #x black reader #jjk smut #jjk x black reader #x black reader smut #black fanfic writer #black fanfiction #black tumblr #black!reader #chubby reader #plus size reader #poc reader

[certainlynotasimp]

Walking on Sunshine

A/N: Hello✨ I realize that my post about Miguel’s height kinda blew up and I kinda wanna try writing a quick little blurb to see if you guys will like it. I been wanting to dove into fanfics, but I’ve been too scared to do so. Please leave some critics for me as I literally just typed this little thing on my phone last night.

Warnings: Grumpy x Sunshine, established relationship? (It’s kinda up to interpretation how deep you want it to be), no use of Y/n (‘Sunny’ is there nickname’).

I haven’t seen the movie so this maybe inaccurate.

TDLR: Miles is meeting all sorts of new Spider-Men as he adventures the Lobby, but who is ‘Sunny’?

—————————————-

As Gwen led Miles around the Lobby with Hobie and Jessica, they reached the main area where they were set to meet the leader.

In the distance, the group can hear arguing, which causes the others to sigh as Miles looks to them in confusion.

“Um, what’s all that about?” Miles questions as he listens more closely as they head towards the noise. As they draw closer, he realizes that the argument sounded more like a deep masculine voice fuming while a softer voice attempts to calm them down.

Jessica chuckles and rolls her eyes. “It’s nothing, most likely Sunny trying to calm down our fearless leader.”

“Sunny?” Miles quirks an eyebrow as Hobie groans.

“I swear, if Sunny wasn’t here, I would have thrashed that prick by now.”

“Now, Hobie, you know Sunny wouldn’t let that happen.” Jessica chuckles as she rubs her aching back. “Besides, you know he can’t stay mad at her for long.”

“Um Excuse me,” Miles interjects, clearly annoyed that they ignored him. “Who is this Sunny? Is she another Spider-Woman or?”

Gwen giggles at Miles’ frustration and nudges him. “Sunny is one of us and Miguel’s favorite, so if you plan to piss off Miguel, make sure Sunny is there to calm him down.”

“Why would I plan to-“

His sentence gets interrupted as the door opens and someone peeks their head out. The woman was about the same height as Gwen and had on a black spider suit. The suit had sections of white on her chest and inner sides of her arms and thighs. The lines of her costume appear to be black with a faint green iridescent in the light. Her eyes shined with a silent apology as her cheeks glowed red. Despite her obvious embarrassment, she smiles at the group brightly.

“Hey, guys.” She greets them in a sweet tone before her eyes lock on Miles. “I see you brought in the legendary Miles Morales, Gwen.”

“You know who I am?” Miles questioned the woman as she opened the door for the group. His eyes glare at Gwen as she responds with a giggle.

“Of course, Gwen told me all about your inter dimensional adventure. You certainly handled yourself well. Even Miggy was impressed.”

Hobie and Jessica laugh at the mention of the nickname while Gwen at least attempts to try not to snort. Sunny tilts her head as she looks quizzically at the laughing trio while Miles looks dumbfounded.

“Whose Miggy?” He ask before a tall man appears on the platform above them.

His burgundy eyes glared down at the group with annoyance as he sighs. “Cariño…”

Sunny looks up at Miguel with an innocent smile as she looks at Miguel with eager anticipation. Miles’ watches as the intimating Spider-Man’s eyes soften as he places his hands on his hips.

“Why don’t you go meet Peter and babysit Mayday for him? I’m sure this meeting won’t take too long.” Miguel’s voice sounded stoic as Sunny’s energy bounced at the thought of playing with a baby.

“Okay!” She agrees as she quickly gives everyone either a hug or a pat. “And Miggy?” She calls as she shoots a web out of the open door, ready for her quick escape.

“Yes?” He answers with a lifted brow as he chooses to ignore Gwen, finally snorting out a laugh.

“Don’t.” She warns with pleading eyes with an unspoken request.

A silent argument playing between them as they both know what’s about to happen. An unfair choice about to be given to a kid. A choice that everyone else had to make in order to become the protectors of their worlds. A judgement that they both wish didn’t have to happen as they weren’t even given the option for their own loved ones.

She looks at Miles briefly as she knows he can’t help to make this life changing decision. She knows how this is probably gonna go and she doesn’t blame him. She would probably fight her hardest if she had known what would have happened to her-.

“I won’t.” Miguel answers, drawing her attention back on him. His eyes stern with a glimmer of guilt, knowing he can’t exactly promise that he will stay in control of his rage if Miles decides to run.

“Alrighty.” Sunny replied before smiling. “You guys have fun.”

With that she left, Miguel softly returning her smile as he watch her leave before becoming stern again as Miles asks,

“So how do I join this team?”

——————-

A/N: That’s all I got for now.😅. I would appreciate some critique and if you wanna see more of ‘Sunny’ and Miggy, let me know.

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #spiderman into the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman

[benkeibear]

⋆꙳✧༄ How they eat you out

❖ Characters: Gojo, Geto, Toji

❖ Reader: Female | AFAB

❖ Wordcount: 1.5k

❖ Summary: Drabbles on how they like to eat you out

❖ WARNINGS: sub!reader, oral (giving and receiving), fingering, squirting, mentions of cum eating, anal fingering with Geto, facefucking with Toji

❖ A/n: don’t want to miss a post? Sign up for my Taglist in my Navi!

☰ Gojo:

Gojo considers your pussy his favorite way to pass his time, be it licking, fingering or fucking it until you can't walk, he doesn't care as long as he can have it. He will whine if you're not fast enough at parting your legs, burying his head between your plush thighs and nibbling on them on the way to your core. He will give you a smug grin if you're already wet, loving how fast you get worked up from some simple teasing, fingers spreading your folds apart before blowing some cold wind onto your clit to see you shudder. Gojo absolutely adored your reactions to everything he does, kissing your clit to tease you further before suddenly licking it, the tip of his tongue flicking it wildly. His wet muscle is sliding through your folds so messily, not caring if the surface beneath you gets absolutely drenched - latest when you reach your high it's going to be soaked anyways. With ease he pushes your legs up to your chest, admiring your pretty cunt on display for him before he uses his fingers on you just to switch it up a little bit. Slender digits slipping into your entrance at the perfect angle to make you shudder before his mouth is back on your bundle of nerves, not caring how nasty it sounds from how wet you are, his saliva combined with your juices. Gojo eats you out like a man starved, slurping and sucking on your puffy clit until he can feel your velvet walls clench around his fingers, smirking against your pretty folds and stopping everything just when you're about to orgasm to watch you squirm and hear your pretty whines. The way you beg for him boosts his ego so much “You want what, baby? Say it louder please” He chuckles and leans his head against your thigh to watch you get shy because you know very well he needs you to scream it out, beg him so loud that everyone knows just how badly you need his tongue against your little cunt. “Such a naughty girl” he taunts when you finally cave in, lapping at your core once more and repeatedly flicking your clit with his tongue until you're screaming his name in euphoria and he's not stopping - not even when your thighs threaten to squeeze his head in a death grip. Your moans and whines of overstimulation are just too beautiful as he fucks you with his tongue to lap up all your juices, his thumb rubbing fast circles right on your sensitive clit without any mercy. “You begged for this, sweetheart now don't tap out on me” he muses, fingers and tongue switching positions so he can massage your sweet spot now. No matter how hard you're pulling on his hair or how many times you cum, Gojo stops when he has enough or when you use the safeword. His face is dripping with your arousal as he feasts away on your cunt, his fist pumping his aching cock to relieve himself of some pressure. “Maybe i cum all over you and lick you clean… would you like that?” He asks amused before bringing you yet another orgasm.

☰Geto:

Geto loves to serve you, never saying no to you and especially not if he can make you feel good, giving you your own slice of paradise with his head between your beautiful legs. His favorite way to devour your cunt is either with you sitting on his face, his hands guiding your hips over his tongue to give you pleasure or to have you bent over on all fours, his lips covering your pretty core, his tongue teasing your clit or slipping inside of you while groping the globes of your ass. If he's feeling particularly mean he might lets some saliva dribble on your puckered hole before pushing his thumb into your behind while his tongue works wonders on your slit. Your surprised moan at the sudden intrusion - a welcome one made him smirk against you, wet tongue flicking your bundle of nerves before sucking on it. “Taste so good for me, princess” he hums against you and pushes his tongue into the heat of your cunt to let your juices grace his mouth. The moment his free hand wraps around your body to massage your needy clit it was over for you, hips bucking wildly from being stimulated everywhere at once as your lover slowly drove you insane. Your hands were gripping the sheets tightly, almost ripping them apart as the knot in your stomach finally snapped, squirting right onto his finger that was relentlessly rubbing your bundle of nerves and staining the sheets with your arousal. “That's my good girl” He praised before his tongue slipped back into your cunt to lap up the remnants of your orgasm, his thumb slowly slipping out from your behind and gently rubbing the globes of your ass. Before he pulled away entirely he made sure to give a few soft licks to your clit, helping you calm down from the intense orgasm. Of course you didn't have enough yet, always needing at least two orgasms to be fully satisfied but he wanted to let you get there yourself, easily manhandling your divine body to straddle his head. Hovering was never an option with him, making sure to push your hips onto his awaiting tongue once you were ready for another round. His big hands rest comfortably on your hips, letting you go at your own pace but helping you move, tongue repeatedly gracing your clit until he could feel your thighs shake as they started to squeeze his head gently. This was the moment you lost your freedom of movement, his strong arms wrapping around your thighs to keep you firmly pressed against him, tongue slipping into your velvet walls, allowing you to nudge your clit against his nose as he was busy tongue fucking your needy cunt until you cried out his name, muffling his hearing with your thighs squeezing around his head. The sight above him made him believe in angels, your beautiful features highlighted by the dim light as you moaned through your orgasm and his hips were bucking into the air, cock desperate for your touch. When you slowly came down from your high, you reached behind your body to stroke his hardened length, his eyes rolling back in his head when your hips started rolling against his tongue once more.

☰ Toji:

Toji didn't hate eating you out but he also didn't like it much, preferring to selfishly receive than to give but you didn't mind much, having found the perfect way to get what you want while also giving it to him. Toji was casually resting on the couch when you straddled his face and pushed your bare cunt onto his lips, muffling his complaints before his arms wrapped around your waist to prevent you from moving away. The moment his thick tongue pushed into your entrance you could feel the vibrations of his groan travel through your core and letting you feel just how much he actually loved the taste of your sweet pussy melting on his tongue. While he was busy grinding your core against his face, tongue swiping over your little clit in just the right ways he bucked his hips up twice to signal to you that you should get to work. A whiny moan escaped your lips when you freed his fat cock from his confines, seeing it throb just from the way your pussy reacts to his tongue. You started pumping his length and letting some of your saliva drool onto him to aid as lube before you gave his tip kitten licks, teasing his sensitive spots just to hear him growl against your pussy in disdain which made you giggle before taking just the tip into your mouth to gently suck on it. It took you a minute or two to work your way halfway down his shaft, tip nudging the back of your throat, your moans vibrating so beautifully around him. “Good girl” he praised you and rewarded you with a single finger in your fluttering cunt as he sucked your bundle of nerves between his lips, grinning when his teeth grazed it and making you squeal in high pitched moans. His big hands held onto your hips tightly to rut them against his face in ways that made you see stars and when you stopped bobbing your head up and down his cock he added a second finger to massage your sweet spot, tongue relentlessly circling your sensitive clit until you came all over his tongue and fingers. You couldn't come down from your high entirely before he flipped you over so he was on top now, his weight resting on you and the tip of his dick slipping past your lips once more until he pushed it all the way into your throat, moaning deeply. “Atta girl” he grunted and snapped his hips against you to fuck your face while he went back to lick your dripping cunt with much more vigor than before, his tongue gliding through your folds in a zigzag motion as he buried his entire face in your wetness. Only when you're his good girl and sucking his cock so eager, he will get extra messy to make you feel just as good.

Networks: @enchantedforest-network @themovingcastlez @planetonet

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x female reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #toji x reader #gojo smut #geto smut #toji smut #gojo satoru #geto suguru #toji fushiguro #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk gojo #jjk geto #jjk toji

[another-lost-mc]

When They Say "F*ck Lucifer" (& Think MC Takes It Literally) Headcanons | THE DEMON BROTHERS 2.6k words | NSFW | gn!Reader | Crack Treated Seriously Content warnings: Cursing, implied relationships, pet names, jealous/possessive behaviour, misunderstandings and poor communication, demon form mentioned (Satan), suggestive content.

BELPHEGOR

"Belphie, it's time for dinner!" Lucifer sent you to find him, and when he wasn't napping in your bed, you knew where to check next.

He mumbles something into his pillow and you can't make out the words, but you know he's listening. "It's the third night this week you've skipped eating dinner with the family. Come on, you know how Lucifer is."

Belphie turns his head towards you enough so that you can hear him more clearly. "Oh, fuck Lucifer." He rolls over and starts snoring again, and you stomp back down the attic stairs in frustration.

When you join the others for dinner, you jab your fork into your food with more force than necessary. You're halfway done your meal when Belphie suddenly plops down into the empty chair beside yours. He reaches for your free hand and leans against your shoulder.

"Belphie?" you ask him curiously, but he says nothing. He doesn't eat anything either. He tries to cuddle even closer to you instead, and he shoots glares at his older brother sitting at the head of the table.

It takes you longer to eat than normal with one of your hands firmly tucked in Belphie's grip. As soon as you finish your dinner, he pulls you away from the table and back up to the attic. He curls around you for the rest of the night like he's afraid you might disappear if he doesn't.

He doesn't skip any more meals for the rest of the week.

BEELZEBUB

You have one hand stretched out in front of you, pressed firmly against Beel's chest. The other is holding a container of sweets behind your back.

"No, you can't have these," you remind Beel for the hundredth time. "They're for tomorrow, remember?"

But Beel's only half-paying attention to you. His focus is latched onto the container in your hand, and if he wasn't worried about hurting you by accident, he'd simply take it from you.

"It's not fair," his low voice rumbles thickly, and there's drool leaking from the corner of his mouth now. "I'm starving!"

You shake your head and look around for something else to tempt Beel with instead. "Lucifer bought these for Diavolo, and we're taking them to the tea party tomorrow."

"Fuck Lucifer," Beel growls, and it's the loudest and angriest he's sounded yet. You both look startled by the outburst; your hand slips away from holding him back, and his jaw drops open when he realizes what he said to you.

You hold the container tightly against your chest. He could easily take it from you now, but he surprises you when he doesn't. His eyes are fixed solely on your face, as if the thing he wanted moments ago is completely irrelevant. He holds his arms out like he's trying to block you from leaving the kitchen.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly. "I'll look for something else to eat, but please, don't go."

ASMODEUS

"Are you sure you should post that?" you ask, glancing over Asmo's shoulder as he types another inflammatory reply on Devilgram.

"Of course!" he exclaims. "You read their comment. ‘Pretentious and gaudy?’ MY clothing line?! No, I won’t stand for it.”

He’s typing quickly and you’re not exactly sure what his Devildom insult is supposed to mean, but you imagine it’s not very nice by the way Asmo cackles when he hits Send.

“I don’t want to be that person,” you start nervously while Asmo scrolls through the other comments on his post, “but maybe you should ignore them? All this back and forth is drawing a lot of negative attention to your Devilgram feed.”

Asmo pauses what he's doing and looks at you suspiciously. “Who told you that?”

You bite your lip and look away. “Lucifer asked me to talk to you about it.” When Asmo rolls his eyes, you throw your hands up. “Well, it’s true, isn’t it? Aren’t you worried this little spat might impact your new launch?”

Asmo jabs his D.D.D. in your direction. “He’s only worried about drama if it involves someone close to Diavolo.” He runs his hand through his hair and looks down at his phone screen again. “Fuck him. If Lucifer cares that much, he can come talk to me himself.”

“Ugh!” You stand up with a huff and head towards the door. You tried to talk to him and it’s obvious he’s not going to listen. You hope Lucifer believes you later when you tell him you tried to get Asmo to see reason.

When you reach for the door handle, you’re surprised when Asmo suddenly blocks your way. Sometimes you forget how fast demons can move.

“I didn’t mean that,” he says seriously. His housecoat falls open slightly when he leans towards you, and his expression isn't angry but dead-serious.

“Didn’t mean what?” you ask confusedly.

“Fucking my brother. Don’t do it.” His hands grasp your shoulders and you can’t help but laugh.

“I wasn’t going to? I was going to go back to my room while you carry on with your…” you trail off, gesturing to his abandoned D.D.D. on the bed, “…little feud.”

He steers you back towards his bed. “If you want to relax, then I insist you stay here instead. My room is much more comfortable than yours. Besides, I just thought of something you can help me with.”

You sit on the edge of the bed and smile up at him. “Like apologizing to that poor demon lord you keep picking fights with?”

Asmo winks at you with a hint of a smirk, and he tugs at the belt holding his housecoat closed. “Maybe we can do that after.”

SATAN

Satan walks around the narrow pathways in his room, avoiding the fragile stacks of books that litter his floor. You sit on his bed and watch him anxiously, giving him the patience and time he needs to tell you what's bothering him. You're careful to give him space when he's in one of these moods; it was one of the stipulations you agreed to before he let you inside earlier.

"So, you were in the garden earlier with some of the stray cats, and Lucifer did...what, exactly?" You've been trying to piece together what happened between Satan and his brother earlier, but it's hard to make sense of his grumbled and disjointed complaints.

"He scared them away," Satan bites out angrily. "I wasn't even feeding them treats. I sprinkled some catnip for them. What's the problem with that?"

You know Lucifer complains about the stray cats that flock to the House of Lamentation if Satan feeds them when he's not supposed to. You know that Lucifer isn't a fan of cats in general. But, you also know that Lucifer wouldn't purposefully hurt any of the cats that make their way into the garden, and he's not usually this petty.

"Is it possible he thought you were feeding them? I don't think he would make such a big fuss if he knew you were only giving them catnip." Satan glances at you and you can tell he's not convinced by your explanation. "What if I go with you to talk to him?"

"Fuck him," Satan snarls as he keeps pacing in front of you, fists clenching open and closed at his sides.

Sigh. Maybe you can talk to Lucifer on your own. Things have been peaceful between them lately, and this is such a silly thing for them to be at odds over.

Satan watches you stand up from his bed with a defeated sigh. When you try to shuffle past him, he wraps his arms around you from behind and pulls you against his chest. There's a wave of warm energy around you, and you feel the familiar feathers of his true form against your back.

"You're not going to leave me to see him, are you?" his rough voice grates against your neck. "You should stay here."

"Tomorrow we're going to sort this out together," you tell him when you meet his gaze over your shoulder.

His hands on your hips tighten. "Fine. But tonight, you're mine."

LEVIATHAN

"I think there's something wrong with your Akuzon account."

Levi asked you to pre-order the Dogi Maji anniversary bundle on his tablet, but the Submit Order button is greyed out every time you try to purchase it for him.

"Huh?" Levi spins around at his desk. He was doing some dungeons with his guild and you've been waiting for him to finish so you could watch anime together.

You tap the screen a few more times and shrug. "I don't know, it won't let me order anything."

Levi opens the Akuzon site on his second monitor and he sputters when he realizes what the problem is. "Lucifer put parental controls on the account again! Why would he do that?"

Of course. You knew Lucifer was upset at Levi for what happened earlier this week, and somehow his threat of punishment completely slipped your mind. "Well, you did summon Lotan on the RAD campus again..." you offer hesitantly.

"That wasn't my fault!" Levi argues loudly. He wilts a bit under your skeptical stare. "Okay, it wasn't completely my fault. Mammon took my rare Ruri-chan capsule figurine and wouldn't give it back."

You rub the back of your neck. You want to be sympathetic, you really do, but you can't necessarily blame Lucifer for his reaction either - an entire floor of the building was unusable due to the flooding.

"You know how Lucifer is, he'll change it back in a few days and we can order the game then."

"But what if it sells out before then?!" he shouts in frustration. "Fuck Lucifer!"

Levi rarely raises his voice like this to you, and he deflates immediately after his little outburst. "Wait–wait–wait!" he stammers quickly, launching himself out of his computer chair and into the empty seat beside you on the sofa. He holds your hands in his and squeezes so tightly that you wince. "I didn't mean that," he says imploringly, and his eyes dart around your face like he's nervous you don't believe him.

You mistakenly assume he's trying to apologize for getting so angry, and you pull him into a hug. "I know," and he nods against your shoulder. "What if I go to Purgatory Hall and order the game using Solomon's account instead?"

Levi sniffles and practically drags you into his lap. "Maybe later," he mumbles against your chest, the game temporarily shoved aside so he can keep you to himself instead. "What do you want to watch first?"

MAMMON

You flick on the light switch in Mammon's room and glare at him in annoyance. You warned him last night not to stay too late at the casino, and here he is, sleeping well past his alarm. At some point he chucked his D.D.D. across the room and promptly went back to sleep.

Great, now you're both going to be late, but for some reason, Lucifer seems to think herding Mammon to class is your responsibility. Lover's perks, you guess sarcastically as you stomp over to where the Avatar of Greed is snoring under a pile of blankets. One of his feet is dangling over the edge of the bed, and if you had more time, maybe slow, torturous tickles would teach him a lesson. For now, you grab the edge of his blankets and rip them off him in one smooth motion.

His eyes are still closed while his hands search blindly for the blankets that are on the floor by your feet. He's only in his boxers so the sudden gust of cool air against his skin makes him shudder. You feel a bit of petty satisfaction as you kick the blankets away for good measure.

"'m tired, goin' back to sleep, babe," he mumbles sleepily.

Well, at least he knows it's you, even if he is half-asleep.

"We're going to be so late for class, and Lucifer's going to kill me. Or you. Or both of us!" You wonder why Lucifer would send you to wake up Mammon, when his own threats of dangling him from the ceiling would probably be more effective. You guess waking Mammon up is meant to be your punishment for choosing to be with him of all demons in the first place.

Mammon groans and rolls over so you can't see him, but you can tell he's half-buried in his pillow when he grumbles, "Fuck 'em."

You throw up your hands and spin on your heel. "Fine, be that way," you snap. Your mood's already sour, and Lucifer's pestering and Mammon being himself isn't helping.

You should have enough time to grab something to eat and make it to class on time if you leave now. What you don't expect is for Mammon to not only get out of bed, but to somehow make it to the doorway before you do.

Damn, he's fast.

He's panting heavily and his eyes are clear now, his razor-sharp focus trained on you. You bump into his bare chest because you don't expect him to block your path. You open your mouth to ask what he's doing, but he leans forward and gives you a sloppy kiss instead. There's something almost desperate in the way his hands cradle your jaw and he drags his lips away from your mouth and dusts your cheeks and brow with feathery-soft kisses too.

"'m sorry," he mumbles, pulling you against him in a tight hug, "Wait for me while I get ready, yeah? Just, don’t–don’t leave. I’ll make it up to ya later, promise.”

LUCIFER

Lucifer pauses outside your bedroom door when he realizes you're speaking to someone on the phone. His brothers are all studying in their rooms - or they should be, same as you. He wonders who could possibly be so interesting that you're ignoring your studies to talk to them instead.

He assumes it's Solomon or Simeon, and he can't decide which of those two options is worse. Not that he cares, of course.

Even through the door, he can hear you clearly. He feels the slightest sense of guilt when he recognizes the tired, sad tone in your voice. Some of his brothers failed the last set of exams, and perhaps he was too strict with you considering your own scores were satisfactory - excellent even, in some classes. He knows that you've been ignoring your extracurriculars and hobbies to focus on studying so you don't disappoint him like his siblings do.

He catches the tail-end of your conversation and decides it's definitely Solomon on the other line if you're being invited to human world outings.

"...yeah, I heard that movie is in theatres now too. I think it looks good, but I'm too busy with–look, maybe once exams are over we can go see it, okay? I think Satan might like to see it too...uh huh...alright, you too. G'night."

Silence follows, and before Lucifer can knock on your door, he hears you sigh and mutter quietly, "Ugh, these stupid exams. Fuck Lucifer."

Well, there's a thought, isn't it? He was going to offer to take you to Madam Scream's to pick up some of those cupcakes you like. He considers it for only a split second and decides he likes your idea even more. His lips curl into a feral smirk, and he knocks once before letting himself inside.

"Huh? Oh, hi, Lucifer. I'm just going to..." but your voice tapers off. Whatever you were going to say dies in your throat when he leans against your door and slides the lock into place.

"I missed you," he murmurs, a surprisingly honest (and to you, completely random) confession that causes your cheeks to darken slightly. You swallow thickly and stare when he brings his hand to his mouth and pulls his glove off with his fucking teeth. "I think you deserve a little reward for all your hard work, hm?"

#obey me demon brothers #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #satan x reader #asmodeus x reader #beelzebub x reader #belphegor x reader #obey me x reader #omswd x reader #obey me x mc #obey me x you #x reader #obey me humor #obey me crack #obey me fanfic #omswd fanfic #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me suggestive #gn!reader

[luveline]

i see ur thinking abt the marauders and i was just thinking abt them too!! i just saw a thread on twt abt how much men hate their girlfriends but wont break up with them (😖😖) and couldn't stop thinking abt how james would be so BAFFLED reading it!! would you be able to write something for that? its perfectly fine if not!! ily <33

I luv you! I'm not sure what thread you mean but I made a guess, sorry if it's not right ♡ fem, 1k

modern au. cw mention of toxic/hurtful relationships

"What is that?" James asks, pushing the sheets back as he climbs in beside you. His bowl of cereal is heaping, upwards of ten weetabix doused in milk, sugar, raspberries, blueberries, and a generous squeeze of honey.

"What?" you ask, showing him your phone screen. 

James leans over you to scroll back up. "Men who hate their girlfriends?" 

"Oh, it's like, people posting their screenshots, I think." You click on the tweet he'd been pointing at and show him the replies underneath. "It's just boys who act like they don't love their partners but won't break up with them either, there's loads on there." 

"What?" he asks, holding his bowl in one hand. "Can I?" You give him your phone happily, watching as he reads through some of the examples, screenshots from different websites and forums. "'Recently had to tell a friend's bird that he was calling her all sorts of names. I'm loyal to my friends, but you could hear the hatred in his voice sometimes. She left him two days later and he was surprised, for some reason.'"

James' eyebrows pinch. He continues, "'Am I in the wrong for asking my husband to stay awake with me during my early morning labour? He keeps bringing it up.'" James shows you your phone screen. "Like, he's mad she didn't let him sleep through the birth of their child?" 

"You know, there was a video on there a few weeks ago where a girl had put together a compilation of her boyfriend play fighting with her, and each video got nastier and nastier." You reach for the spoon to his bowl to start chopping up the weetabix the way he likes. "He was kicking her legs from under her and she was laughing it off. Once or twice, I'd think it was funny, but he wasn't even laughing himself." 

"Why the fuck?" James asks. 

"I don't know. Can I have a raspberry?" 

"They're in there for you to steal…" James watches you chew. You try not to pay too much attention to his staring, plopping your phone down in the sheets between your legs. "Why are these boys getting with women they don't like?" 

"I don't know, Jamie," you tell him honestly, wading through his bowl for another raspberry. "I think they get comfortable." 

He accepts the spoon back from you and you slouch down the fabric headboard together. James eats his weetabix slowly, the TV sending a light blue light into your otherwise dark room. "It's a bit late for supper," you murmur. "Were you hungry?" 

James puts his bowl on the nightstand. Coils of curls brush your forehead as he leans down, one big hand on the back of your neck and the other stretched across the shoulder furthest away from him, holding you in place as he kisses the top of your head. It's a weighty kiss, full of love. "I love you. Don't ever let anyone treat you like those boys on your phone, yeah?" 

You hum lightly. "That's what boys are like." 

"I know. I'm just begging you not to let people do that to you." He rubs your shoulder roughly, a massaging that hurts in the good way. "You know, if you can. I get that it's not their choice." 

"Yeah. I think people want so badly to be loved that they'll take the pretend kind. I was lucky to find you before you found someone else. You always make me happy." 

"This is what I mean," he whines, resting his cheek on your forehead. You sigh happily at his touch, more than ready for a night of his arms around you, a heavy leg thrown over your hips to lock you in. "You think you're lucky because of those dickheads." 

"No, it doesn't have anything to do with them. Just you." 

James sits up to turn your face to his. "Love you," he says, kissing you quickly. 

"Love you too. Don't stress about the phone, babe, you're not the audience they're looking for." 

James hears your teasing tone toward the end, poking your side. "What's that for?" 

"Nothing, just, you tried to follow me into the bathroom last night even when I told you I wasn't showering. If you're that eager to sit with me while I pee, I doubt you'll be the kind of guy who ends up on that forum." 

"It wasn't about the peeing, stop trying to shame me," he grumbles, again pulling you in for a hug, "it was separation anxiety. I miss you."

"I get why these women end up like that, though," you say quietly. "I get why they stay. If you started shoving me for a laugh or whatever, I'd think about this, because you love me. Does that make sense? I'm so happy right now that I wouldn't want to believe that you didn't love me anymore." 

"I know. It's fucking sad. I can't believe they do shit like that, it's pure selfishness." James settles back in his pillow. "I wouldn't ever do that shit to you. I know everyone says that, but I have to say it anyway." 

"I know, Jamie. Don't worry. I'm not worried about it, only talking." 

You offer him your hand. James takes it, rubs the back of it, brings it to his lips for a barely felt kiss. "Is there anything happy on that app?" he asks. 

"Uh, I saw a video of a baby girl who only stops crying when her cat comes to check on her. Or a pregnancy reveal where the boyfriend starts crying and begging her to get married." 

James rests his face on your shoulder, snuffling into your skin contentedly, "Ah, so my future. Put it on, angel." 

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter imagine #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter scenario #james potter oneshot #the marauders #marauders era #marauders

[quinzzelx]

Eros

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Well....How do I put this. This is Porn with Plot. Filth, with a bit of an unhinged story. You're on a mission with Azriel. After an ambush, you get into a fight and find yourselves to be captured by some sick people. Word Count: 11K

Warnings: Smut, pure FILTH, a bit Angsty, Slight Dub!Con, Voyeurism, Canon typical Violence, blood, Mentions of Sex-trafficking, some type of sex pollen/potion, forced intimacy, porn with plot, 18+

A/N: Guys, I swear that I DID SEE the voting turned out to be Fluff, and I will be posting that one soon. BUT- please only read this if you feel comfortable with darker tones. I had to get this out here. Jeez, enjoy. ☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆

Sometimes, bad things happen. In fact, they occur all too frequently, by all the gods' reckoning. Azriel could swear he attracted bad luck like a magnet. But this? He cursed under his breath, feeling as if fate were playing a cruel joke on him.

He groaned, frustration evident as his hand ran down his face. Of all times for misfortune to strike, it had to be while he was on a mission with you. "What?" You snapped at him, your eyes squinted in concentration as you struggled to fix the sheath of your dagger. With a huff of frustration, the dagger and its sheath fell to the ground, clinking and scattering. You muttered something under your breath, wincing as you shifted on the log you were perched upon.

Azriel paced in the small forest clearing, muttering to himself. "For fuck's sake, Rhys!" he shouted inwardly, though it proved futile. Hours had passed since he first attempted to reach Rhys, to no avail. Either they were too far away or something was interfering with the connection. "I can't reach Rhys."

You snorted at his statement, rolling your eyes. "No shit, Azriel. If you could, he'd be here by now." His jaw clenched, his narrowed eyes landing on your hunched form still seated on the log in the center of the clearing. They trailed over your injured left wing, twisted at an unnatural angle. With an irritated twitch of his upper lip, his scowl deepened.

"If you had paid attention while flying, we wouldn't be in this mess," he said, his tone harsher than intended.

"Excuse me?" Enraged, you stood up and marched toward him, your face contorted in anger, a slight limp accompanying each step. "I got shot by a damn Asharrow coated in Faebane!"

"Exactly!" He snarled, taking another step to close the distance between you. "How did that even happen?" A humorless laugh escaped you as you met his gaze. "Are you serious?"

When his expression only hardened, your anger resurfaced. "Oh, you really are serious!" You swallowed the lump in your throat, closing the distance between you and jabbing a pointed finger at his chest angrily. "You!" you hissed between gritted teeth. "If you had actually listened when I said I needed a break, I might have been able to pay more attention!"

In fact, you had asked for a break numerous times. However, the group you were tracking didn't seem to consider breaks necessary. They had been abducting young females and males all over Prythian for months. When they crossed into the borders of the Night Court and ambushed a small village, Rhysand had dispatched you two immediately. Several days had already passed since you crossed into Winter, and now you were venturing into Autumn territory.

Azriel growled lowly, catching your wrist with his hand to prevent you from stabbing at his chest again. "You obviously shouldn't have come on this mission then," he said, his voice as cold as ice. For some reason, Azriel was always harsher with you. You had tried, really tried to make him warm up to you, but this thick-headed male infuriated you like no one else. There had been a time when you would have called him a close friend, someone you could confide in.

You had met Cassian and Rhys in Windhaven on the day they first established that Wingclipping was forbidden and never to be done again. You had always found ways to avoid it, making yourself sick with different herbs and mushrooms, because for whatever reason and little morals the Illyrians held, they didn't want to clip a sick female's wings. The irony was beyond you, but it worked for some decades. That day, your uncle had found you preparing the mixture that made you sick and unleashed his wrath upon you. He had dragged you outside by your hair while you thrashed and clawed at him, begging him to let you keep your wings, pleading for mercy.

As if the Mother had heard your pleas, Rhys and Cassian arrived just as a group of men were holding you down to make an example out of you. Taking advantage of their temporary distraction, you kicked up at the jaw of your uncle holding you down, breaking it. He howled in agony, clutching at the broken bone. One of his friends tried to punch you then, but you dodged him, elbowing him in the gut and headbutting him when he fell to his knees.

In that moment, you probably looked like the personification of pure fury, blood dripping from your split lip, broken nose, and dislocated shoulder. Still, you fought, not only breaking these men's frail egos but also their weak bones. Rhysand was angry, standing tall and making a strong example out of their behavior, executing them for their act of treason and hurling insults at him. He was the High Lord, and no one was to disobey his orders. Cassian tended to you, helping with your shoulder and beaming proudly at you. He started training you from that day on. They had seen your sheer willpower, strength, and potential. And potential indeed. These days, you wore not one, but three siphons. Yes, you still weren't as powerful as Cassian or Azriel, but you weren't weak either. The average Illyrian had nothing on you.

They soon took you to Velaris with them, where you quickly found yourself becoming one of Mor's best friends. Azriel was always wary around you, distant at first. But for years, you had enjoyed talking to each other. Only in the past four had he become distant again, seemingly even disliking you and your company. And you found yourself becoming resentful too. You could have lived with it if you never got along in the first place, but this sudden change made you angry at yourself for ever having a crush on this stupid male in the first place!

"Fuck you, Azriel!" you spat at him, your head red with anger. Both of you had been flying for three days straight, resting only twice. You had only spotted the arrow at the last moment, dodging it just as it was about to strike your head. But despite your efforts, it found its mark, lodging right into your shoulder. A second arrow followed swiftly, tearing through one of your wings. The pain was excruciating, and a strong gust of wind threw you off balance, causing you to crash into Azriel with full force, sending both of you plummeting towards the ground. Azriel momentarily lost his bearings, only regaining focus when you hurtled past him. With powerful beats of his wings, he caught up to you and wrapped you in his arms, but it was too late to slow the momentum. Together, you crashed through the trees, branches tearing at your skin before slamming into the unforgiving ground.

"I'm just saying that maybe Rhys has overestimated your capability," he stated nonchalantly, lowering his gaze to meet yours. Ripping your hand away from his grasp, you shoved at his chest, your voice snarling with rising anger. "Yes, I'm sorry to burden you. Maybe next time I'll just free-fall and accept death with open arms."

Without thinking, anger consuming him, Azriel growled, "Maybe you should." Any retort you had died in your throat. Wide-eyed and shocked, you took a step back, and only then did he realize the gravity of his words. His own eyes widened, filled with regret as he reached out to you, flinching when you dodged him and hurried to retrieve your dropped dagger. "Wait—I—" he called out, stepping toward you, desperate to take back his words. He cursed himself as tears pricked at your eyes. "No, I understood perfectly," you said, your voice trembling with emotion. With one swift motion, you shouldered your bag and walked toward the opposite treeline.

Azriel's heart clenched as he called your name again, pleading for you to wait, to let him apologize and take back his words. But you cut him off, saying, "I'll scout the surroundings, see if I can find anything useful," before disappearing into the woods. He cursed himself once more, sending some of his shadows after you. Splitting up was dangerous, especially when enemies were nearby. Defeated, Azriel sank onto the log you had occupied earlier, sighing heavily as he buried his head in his hands. "Rhys," he spoke again, reaching out to his brother, "We were ambushed, and I messed up." As he sat there, waiting, his hazel eyes scanning the darkening sky, he cursed himself again.

A while later, a twig snapped to his right, and his head whipped around. Had you finally returned? His shadows frantically warned of danger. Standing up, he gripped Truthteller tightly, ready to face whatever came his way.

"Behind you!" his shadows screamed, but before he could react, a blunt object struck his head, and a syringe found its way into his neck. With a grunt, he collapsed to the ground.

☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆

Something was definitely amiss. Azriel's senses felt muddled, his consciousness drifting in and out like waves against a shore. Hadn't he just been... flying? No, he was on a mission. Flying, no, falling. A groan escaped his lips as dizziness overwhelmed him. He attempted to rub a hand over his face to clear his thoughts, but something restrained his wrists, pulling against his movements with a metallic clink. Groggily, he tried to pry his eyes open, but they felt heavy, weighted down by an impenetrable darkness. Panic stirred within him as he struggled against his bindings, the realization sinking in that he was not where he should be. Where was he? And more importantly, where were you? His brows furrowed in frustration as he tugged on his other arm, only to find it chained as well.

"Fuck!." Whipping his head around, an alarming feeling of unease settled in the pit of his stomach. Surveying his surroundings, he noted the darkness but discerned the wooden floor. Good, this meant he was either in a village or some kind of building. His arms were chained to the ground next to his body, where he sat leaning against the wall. Confusion swept over him when he realized his legs were relatively free to move. Chains wrapped around his ankles, but the chain was longer. He surmised he could walk around the whole room if he wasn't anchored to the ground by his arms.

His eyes continued to sweep through the dark room, gradually adjusting to the dimness as he squinted, attempting to focus on what lay on the other side of the room. At the other side of the room, a table gradually emerged from the darkness, its silhouette becoming clearer to Azriel's eyes. As he discerned more barely-there furniture, a sense of dread washed over him. This was no ordinary room. It was a torture chamber, though unlike any he was familiar with from Hewn City. Whips, clamps, syringes, and various other implements of torture adorned the space, along with devices he couldn't even identify. His gaze lingered on a table adorned with chain locks, clearly intended to restrain victims.

Chains were strewn everywhere, giving the room an ominous and foreboding atmosphere. What kind of place was this? The smell assaulted his senses—blood, urine, and something else, something sickeningly familiar yet repulsive: arousal. His stomach churned in disgust at the realization of the horrors that had taken place within these walls. He attempted to summon his shadows, hoping for their familiar comfort and assistance, but nothing responded. Faebane. His heart sank at the realization of the poison's presence. Determination fueled his actions as he tried once more to pull on his restraints, but a piercing scream from outside the room froze him in place.

"Don't touch me!" Your voice, muffled yet unmistakable, sent panic coursing through him. Gritting his teeth, he ripped and tugged at his chains with renewed force. Outside, commotion ensued, accompanied by the creaking of a door. The sounds of struggle intensified, punctuated by a sharp slap that echoed through the room, causing Azriel's eyes to narrow in anger. "She damn well bit me," someone exclaimed amid the chaos. More noise followed, and then the door swung open fully, allowing light to seep into the room as several figures stumbled in, three of them carrying your thrashing form. A cold shiver ran down his spine as he took in your distressed state. You were cursing at them, fighting back with every bit of strength you could still muster. His eyes quickly swept over you from across the room as they threw you onto the table with a force that elicited a loud crack.

His heart stopped then. Where were your fighting leathers? What sick place was this? You were dressed in a white, very sheer and drenched dress that ended just above your knees. One of them grabbed your thigh forcefully, and he saw red. Screaming at them with a hoarse voice, Azriel struggled against his restraints, his muscles straining against the chains binding him to the ground. "Leave her alone, you bastards!" he roared, his voice echoing in the chamber. But his cries fell on deaf ears as they continued their assault on you, their intentions horrifyingly clear. One of the many males in the room laughed at Azriel's futile threats.

"Don't worry, Shadowsinger, your time will come," he taunted, his voice dripping with malice. Azriel clenched his jaw, his frustration mounting at his inability to protect you. As they chained you to the table, Azriel's panic surged. Your hands were bound together above your head, your legs hanging over the edge of the table and spread, tied to each leg. The sight sent a surge of fury coursing through him. "What is this? What are you doing?" he demanded, his voice thick with rage and desperation. But his questions were met with only sinister chuckles from the assailants.

Your eyes met Azriel's, and something washed over your features—a mixture of desperation and fear. "Please," you choked out, your voice trembling with emotion, "I beg you, not in front of him." Azriel's heart clenched at your plea, his gaze filled with anguish and determination. Despite his restraints, he struggled against the chains binding him, his muscles straining with the effort. "I won't let them touch you," he vowed, his voice laced with fierce resolve. Though powerless to act, his eyes conveyed a silent promise. The one who had spoken earlier chuckled darkly as the others moved to silence you, advancing with a gag. Your head thrashed around in a desperate attempt to fend them off.

Your body trembled, chest heaving, the wet white dress clinging to your form like a second skin, barely concealing anything. It left little to the imagination, the cold causing your nipples to harden as you fought against them, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. Your black wings, a stark contrast against the white fabric, remained spread out behind you, a symbol of your strength and defiance even in this vulnerable state.

Azriel's heart twisted with anguish as he watched their hands on your wings, holding you down, causing you to shiver and writhe even more. A soft whine and gasp escaped you involuntarily, the sound tearing at his soul. Fury contorted Azriel's face as he snarled at them, his anger palpable. "Dare to touch her again, and I will cut your hands off," he growled, his voice dripping with venom. But his threats were met with mocking laughter from the group, their disdain evident in their sneers.

"How would you manage that chained to the ground?" one of them taunted, their words dripping with cruelty. The group, consisting of about ten males and some females, settled a little farther away, some taking seats while others remained standing beside you. Azriel's rage burned hotter at their mockery, his muscles tensing with the urge to break free and unleash his wrath upon them. Your chest heaved, teeth sinking into the cloth they had used to gag you as you struggled against their restraint. Seeking solace in Azriel's unwavering gaze amidst the chaos surrounding you, your eyes locked onto his. "You see, we were kind of growing bored of watching High Fae," the male spoke again, his tone laced with malice. He was tall, fatter than the others, with grey hair and a posture exuding arrogance. Confusion flickered between you and Azriel as you listened. "You still haven't figured out what we do?"

Azriel's anger burned fiercely as he glared at them, his fists clenched in impotent rage. The male continued, revealing their twisted motives. They watched prisoners engage in sexual acts or forced themselves upon them, all while testing out new weapons, torture devices, and potions. They reveled in the power they wielded over their captives. "And when we found out the High Lord of the Night Court sent two Illyrians after us?" The fat, grey-haired man sneered, his voice filled with twisted excitement. "Well, well, it seemed like we're in for quite the treat. Illyrians are known for their stamina and prowess after all."

"You two especially are a treat to look at," the male leered, his gaze lingering on your exposed form with undisguised lust. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but anger burned brighter in your eyes as you glared at him. "Rumor has it," he began, circling around the table you were strapped onto, his voice dripping with malicious intent, "that Illyrian wings are very sensitive." He punctuated his words with a sinister smile, sending a chill down your spine. Azriel's eyes widened with horror as he watched the man's dirty hands trail over the delicate membrane of your wings.

A growl rumbled deep in his throat, but he remained trapped, his muscles tensed with the urge to break free and tear the man limb from limb. You couldn't suppress an embarrassed moan as the man's fingers grazed over a particularly sensitive spot on your wing, the sensation sending shivers down your spine and igniting a blush on your cheeks. Illyrians were notoriously protective of their wings; allowing someone else to touch them was considered a significant display of trust. The violation of this boundary filled you with a sense of vulnerability and violation, intensifying your anger and humiliation in the face of such blatant disrespect. The dirty male's gaze shifted back to Azriel, lifting Truthteller in his hand, a cruel smirk playing on his lips as he brandished Azriel's own dagger.

"You see, Shadowsinger, we've got ourselves a little experiment planned," he said, his voice oozing with malice. Azriel's eyes narrowed, a cold fury simmering beneath the surface as he listened intently. "We've got this new love potion we've been itching to try out," the man continued, his tone sickeningly cheerful. "And we thought, what better way to test it than on our favorite pair of Illyrians? "Azriel's shock was evident, his voice laced with disbelief. "You can't be serious."

"Oh, but we are," the man chuckled darkly. "You and the lady here," he gestured toward you with a lewd grin, "will be our little test-subjects. One of you will get the pleasure of enjoying its effects firsthand." Azriel's heart sank at the realization of what they were proposing. He couldn't bring himself to do something so violating to you, not like this. Though he had harbored certain thoughts about you, this was beyond anything he had ever imagined. "I will not do that to her," he declared through gritted teeth, his voice laced with defiance and disgust. The look on your face was difficult to decipher, a mixture of fear, anger, and betrayal evident in your tear-filled eyes.

As someone approached with a syringe filled with a blue liquid, your breath caught in your throat. The cold sting of the needle piercing your skin sent shivers down your spine, your body trembling with a sense of dread. The male's smirk widened as he used Truthteller to cut the dress from your body, exposing your breasts and leaving you vulnerable and exposed before their leering eyes. The effects of the potion began to take hold, distorting your senses and leaving you in a state of heightened arousal. Your pupils dilated, your chest heaving with each ragged breath, and your legs trembling beneath you as the drug coursed through your veins.

"Lorsh," the man called for another male, summoning him to join their twisted game. As Lorsh stepped forward, rising from his chair with predatory intent, a sense of dread washed over you. "If our Shadowsinger won't do the honor, you can have her," the man declared, his words sending a chill down your spine. No, this couldn't be happening. You shook your head slightly, trying to fight against the effects of the potion as your gaze turned to Azriel once more, silently pleading for him to intervene.

Azriel's heart clenched with desperation as he watched the scene unfolding before him. He couldn't bear to see you subjected to such degradation, such violation. With a ferocity that echoed off the walls, Azriel's voice cut through the tense atmosphere. "Don't you dare touch her! I swear, I'll break your hands before I let you lay another finger on her!" His words dripped with a protective fury, his eyes ablaze with a primal instinct to shield you from any harm.

"I'll do it," he declared, his voice trembling with a mixture of rage and resolve, "but not at the expense of her dignity. I'll be the one." A sickening delight spread across the male's face as he licked his lips, relishing in the twisted power play unfolding before him. With a gesture, he commanded another to throw the key for the arm chains to Azriel, a malicious grin playing on his lips as he watched the exchange.

As Azriel caught the key, the man retreated, his voice dripping with a sickening satisfaction. "You see, these chains on your legs will keep you tethered to this table," he clarified, his tone filled with sadistic amusement. "But don't get any ideas about getting close enough to kill us. You won't succeed." Azriel's jaw clenched with frustration at the limitations of his movements, but his resolve remained unbroken. As Azriel hurried towards you, relief flickered in your eyes as you locked gazes once more. Stopping in front of you, Azriel's heart hammered in his chest as he faced the daunting task ahead. His mind raced with possibilities, seeking a way to ensure your safety amidst the chaos surrounding you. "You may do as you please with her," the male declared, his voice dripping with malicious intent.

Azriel's heart sank at the man's words, grappling with the limitations imposed upon him. "Can I untie her?" he asked, his voice tinged with desperation. If he could free you from the table, maybe you could fight your way out of this nightmare. If unchained, you could reach a weapon and turn the tide.

But his hopes were dashed as the man's cruel decree fell upon his ears. "No, you can free her from the table if you must, but you cannot completely unbind her hands," the man stated, his words a death sentence to Azriel's hopes. "They will stay tied together." The look on Azriel's face was one of pure sorrow.

Determination surged through him as Azriel clenched his jaw, bracing himself to make this ordeal as bearable as possible for you. With steady hands, he reached for the gag, untying it and freeing your mouth from its suffocating restraint. Next, he carefully loosened the straps that held your arms and legs in place, his movements deliberate and gentle.

As he brushed against your skin, a jolt of electricity coursed through him at the sinful sound of your moan. His heart clenched with both guilt and longing as the realization of the drug's effects washed over him. “I’m sorry.” Your apology only added to the turmoil raging within him, a bleak reminder of the violation of your consent. His voice trembled with uncertainty as Azriel locked eyes with you, his own turmoil mirrored in your gaze. "Is this okay?" he asked, his words barely more than a whisper, filled with a desperate plea for reassurance amidst the chaos. Your nod was barely perceptible, accompanied by a whimper that tugged at Azriel's heartstrings. "I don't mind if it's you," you whispered, your voice trembling with vulnerability and trust.

Azriel's breath caught in his throat at your words, relief and distress flooding through him. His gaze lingered over your exposed form, desire and guilt warring within him. Despite the circumstances, he couldn't deny the allure of your beauty, the vulnerability you displayed beneath him. Guilt washed over him as arousal stirred, his body responding to the primal urge.

Swallowing hard, he fought to rein in his need, guiding your hands from above your head to rest on your stomach. As he intertwined his fingers with yours, he felt your whine of anticipation reverberate through him, igniting a heat between your spread legs. "Look at me," he murmured softly, seeking to soothe you. "I'm here," he whispered, filled with reassurance. "I'll keep you safe."

But beneath the reassurances lay desire. "I'll make you forget they're watching," he promised, leaning closer, his breath hot against your skin. "In this moment, it's just you and me," he continued, a promise of intimacy amidst the chaos. "I'll show you pleasure beyond anything you've known." Each word dripped with longing. "I want to make it better for you," he murmured, his voice husky with desire as he leaned closer, his lips grazing your earlobe. "Tell me what you need."

As your body trembled beneath him, a surge of arousal coursed through Azriel at your vulnerability. "Touch me, please," you pleaded, your voice shaky with need. His heart clenched with longing as he resisted his own desires, focusing instead on easing your discomfort.

"It hurts, Azriel," you whispered, anguish and need evident in your voice. His own arousal forgotten, he concentrated solely on comforting you. "I'll make it better," he vowed, determination lacing his voice as he sought to ease your suffering and fulfill your desperate longing for pleasure.

Tears streamed down your flushed cheeks as you squeezed his hand, seeking comfort. "I'm sorry, this is all my fault," you whimpered, self-blame and anguish evident in your trembling voice and quivering lip. Azriel's heart ached at your words, the weight of your guilt heavy upon him. "No, it's not your fault," he murmured softly, his voice tender as he wiped away your tears. "None of this is your fault."

Ignoring the sickening gaze of the others, Azriel clenched his jaw with fury. With a deep breath, he leaned forward to whisper in your ear, his voice low and intense. "I will end them," he growled softly, promising to protect you at any cost. "Every last one of them." As he felt his powers surging back, an ancient energy thrumming beneath his skin, he knew he had to bide his time, to wait for the perfect moment to strike.

Leaning back slightly, his gaze locked with yours, a smoldering heat burning in his eyes. "How do you want me?" he murmured, his voice husky with desire as he sought to give you control in a situation where you had none. "Az..Need you" Face constricted in pure longing you sucked in your bottom lip. With a thoughtful expression, he trailed his finger down your trembling form, his touch igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you both. Lower and lower he traced, until he reached the boundary where the drenched fabric of your dress began again.

"Here?" he murmured, his voice husky as he gazed over your pubic bone, his eyes smoldering with heat. Your mewl of pleasure echoed in the air, the sensation of his touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. With a whimper of agreement, you nodded eagerly, your face contorted in pure longing as you looked up at him through thick lashes. "Yes," you whispered, your voice barely more than a breathy whimper, your body writhing under his touch as you surrendered yourself to him.

"Fine," he muttered, lust thick in his voice as he gave in to fervent longing. With a swift, almost savage motion, he ripped the last bit of the dress open, a low rumble escaping his throat. Your yelp mingled with a gasp of pleasure as your body was fully exposed to him, the sudden rush of sensation sending shivers down your spine. The air crackled with electricity as Azriel's gaze swept over your exposed form, his eyes dark as he drank in the sight of you.

Azriel's mind swirled with a tumult of conflicting emotions as he hovered over you, his fingers tracing patterns of guilt and desire on your trembling skin. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was responsible for the predicament you found yourself in. If only he had been more attentive, more cautious, none of this would have happened. But even as he berated himself for his mistakes, a dark, twisted part of him reveled in the power he held over you now.

As he watched you quiver under his touch, he felt a surge of arousal mingled with self-loathing wash over him. He was sick, twisted, and yet he couldn't deny the rush of pleasure that coursed through him at the sight of you laid bare before him.

Groaning in frustration, he narrowed his eyes, his resolve faltering momentarily before he forced himself to continue. Tracing a finger lower, he felt the tension in your body as you clenched your thighs, seeking relief from the overwhelming sensations that consumed you. But Azriel wouldn't allow it, not yet. With a growl, he forced your legs back open, his gaze fixed on your glistening core, evidence of your arousal under the influence of their vile drug. Deliberately, he brushed a finger through your folds, eliciting an intense reaction from you. Your body flinched, your core clenching around nothing but air as pleasure and pain collided within you.

A needy whine echoed through the room, reverberating off the walls as you squeezed your eyes shut in desperate longing. Azriel's eyes widened at the sound, his heart clenching with desire and fury. "Please, more. It hurts," you pleaded again, your voice thick with need. His jaw clenched as he fought the urge to unleash his fury upon those who had brought you to this state. You were suffering because of their sick, twisted games, and he swore to himself that they would pay dearly for it.

"I'm here, love," he cooed softly, his voice soothing. With a lazy motion, he began to draw circles on your sensitive bud, his touch both tender and electrifying. Finally, unable to resist any longer, he dragged two of his fingers down again, sinking them into your awaiting heat. A hiss escaped his lips as he felt you clench around his fingers immediately, your core desperately trying to draw them in. "Azriel," your voice left your lips in a sinful moan, sending a shiver of pleasure down his spine. He felt himself twitch in his pants at the way you said his name.

Picking up his pace, he arched his fingers, pumping them deeper. Unable to resist the intoxicating scent and taste of you, he leaned forward, carefully extending his tongue as he licked up from where his fingers were buried deep within you, moving steadily up to your sensitive bud before sucking on it with fervent hunger. A deep, guttural groan escaped his throat as the taste of you flooded his senses. You were on the brink of release, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks as you whimpered and pleaded for more. Each flick of Azriel's tongue, each harsh suck on your bundle of nerves sent waves of ecstasy coursing through your trembling form.

When his mouth left your clit after one final, intense suck, you heard a groan from the corner of the room. Azriel's keen senses immediately picked up on your movement as you started to turn your head toward the source of the sound, but his other hand, not the one still buried deep inside you, found your face, forcing you to look back at him.

His expression was stern, his gaze piercing as he locked eyes with you. "Eyes on me," he ordered, his voice commanding yet filled with a tenderness that belied the intensity of the moment. "Watch as I make you come." With a firm yet gentle touch, he guided your gaze back to his, his eyes burning with a fierce determination to pleasure you beyond measure. And as you obediently focused on him, the weight of the room and its twisted audience faded into the background.

You watched Azriel with rapt attention as his fingers worked wonders inside you, driving you to the edge of ecstasy with each skillful thrust. Your hips instinctively met his movements, grinding against his hand in a desperate quest for release. Despite the intensity of the moment, Azriel's concentration remained focused elsewhere.

His shadows slithered through the room, silent and deadly, creeping toward their unsuspecting victims. One shadow had already retrieved Truthteller, waiting patiently for its master's command. As you soared to the peak of pleasure, your body convulsing with the force of your climax, you released a torrent of ecstasy, squirting all over Azriel's hand and leathers.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice a low growl of satisfaction as he allowed you to use his fingers to ride out your orgasm. But as you basked in the afterglow, the lust in Azriel's eyes gave way to a chilling darkness. With deliberate slowness, he withdrew his fingers from you, straightening his back as he met your gaze. Parting his lips, he slowly sucked the remnants of your arousal from his fingers, cleaning them off with a deliberate thoroughness.

And then, in the blink of an eye, he unleashed his wrath upon the twisted individuals in the room. His shadows surged forward, wrapping around the unsuspecting males, snapping their bones with lethal precision. Some shadows slithered into their lungs, suffocating them with tendrils of darkness. Truthteller gleamed in his hand as he swiftly dispatched nearly all of them, their bodies falling lifeless to the ground within seconds. But he saved the one who had dared to touch your wings earlier for last. As the man's eyes widened in fear, Azriel loomed over him, his Siphons glowing bright with unleashed power.

"You filthy male," Azriel's voice was ice-cold, his words dripping with contempt as he confronted the perpetrator. "Enjoy watching helpless Fae get violated?" With lightning speed, he caught the man's wrists, his shadows swirling around them as the room was consumed by darkness.

For each finger he severed with Truthteller, Azriel delivered a damning sentence. "This one," he intoned with chilling precision, "is for touching her wings."

“This one," he hissed with lethal intent, "is for the innocence you defiled." The blade sliced through flesh and bone effortlessly, leaving a trail of severed digits in its wake.

With each finger severed, Azriel's voice grew colder, more menacing. "And this one," he continued, his tone dripping with venom, "is for the fear you inflicted." The man's agonized screams filled the room, mingling with the sound of metal meeting flesh.

As the bloodied fingers littered the ground, Azriel's gaze bore into the man's soul, his eyes ablaze with righteous fury. "Remember this," he spat, his voice a low, ominous rumble, "for every drop of her pain, you will pay tenfold." Azriel's grip tightened around Truthteller as he gazed down at the mutilated figure before him. With a swift, calculated motion, he brought the blade down once more, severing the man's remaining hand with grim determination. "Shame that I cannot take my time with you," he muttered, his voice devoid of mercy, as he plunged Truthteller through the man's throat.

While the male gurgled and choked on his own blood, Azriel withdrew the blade with a steely resolve. With a final, lethal thrust, he ensured the man's demise, his shadows already dispersing to scout the building for any remaining threats and to locate proper attire for you both. Breathing heavily, Azriel attempted to quell the raging storm of fury within him, the splatter of blood marring his face and clothes serving as a grim reminder of the savagery he had unleashed. In that moment, he longed for the confines of his torture chamber in Hewn City, where he could have taken his time with these vile creatures.

A soft cry pierced the air, drawing Azriel's attention. With a start, he turned to find you on the ground, trembling on all fours, the remnants of your once-white dress clinging to your form. With swift, purposeful strides, he approached you, his expression unreadable as he assessed your condition. Blood and tears mingled on your face, your trembling form a testament to the horrors you had endured.

Kneeling beside you, Azriel reached out a hand, his touch surprisingly gentle as he brushed aside strands of hair plastered to your sweat-soaked skin. "Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice soft but laced with an undercurrent of concern. Despite the fury still raging within him, a flicker of something akin to tenderness sparked in his eyes as he gazed upon you.

Without waiting for your response, he moved to free you from the remnants of the torn dress and chains, his movements efficient but careful. As the fabric fell away, revealing the bruises and welts marring your skin, a surge of anger welled up within him once more. "I'll get you out of here," he vowed, his tone firm.

With a deft motion, he wrapped his cloak around you that his shadows had brought, shielding you from prying eyes and offering a semblance of protection against the chill of the night. "Hold on to me," he instructed, his voice commanding yet oddly comforting. "We're leaving this place, and I won't let anyone harm you further."

Rising to his feet, Azriel gathered you into his arms, holding you close as he carried you from the chamber of horrors. As you clung to him, he swore to himself that he would never let anyone hurt you again.

Azriel winnowed you to the inn they had booked a room in three days prior, the exertion causing him to stumble slightly upon arrival. Despite his weariness, he carried you with care to the bathroom, settling you down before running a bath. Your silence weighed heavily in the air, your gaze fixed ahead as if lost in the depths of your own thoughts.

"I'm so sorry you had to endure this," you finally spoke, the words heavy with emotion.

Rushing to your side, Azriel gently cradled your face in his hands, his heart aching at the sight of your pain. "No, love, it's me who should be apologizing," he murmured, disbelief coloring his tone. "I failed to protect you, and I let those monsters lay a hand on you."

Your eyes shimmered with unshed tears as you shook your head, a soft sigh escaping your lips. "It wasn't your fault," you insisted, your voice barely above a whisper. "We were both in that situation together." Leaning in, he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his touch gentle and reassuring. "I promise to make it up to you," he vowed, his voice laced with determination. "Starting with getting you cleaned up and taking care of you."

Feeling the lingering effects of the drug, you sank into the warm water with Azriel's assistance, trying to hide the discomfort that still gnawed at your senses. Despite your efforts, the telltale signs of your distress were evident to him, your body tensing at the slightest touch, your skin still flushed with fever.

Azriel noticed your unease, his brows furrowing in concern as he observed your strained movements. Gently, he reached out, his touch feather-light as he brushed a stray lock of hair from your forehead. "Easy, love," he murmured soothingly, his voice a soft reassurance. "I'm here with you. Just relax, and let the water ease away the pain." Though his words offered comfort, you couldn't shake the lingering discomfort that coursed through your body. Despite your best efforts to hide it, Azriel's keen gaze didn't miss a thing, his eyes filled with empathy as he watched you struggle to find solace in the water's embrace.

With a gentle hand, he began to massage your shoulders, his touch tender yet firm as he worked to alleviate the tension that gripped your muscles. Gradually, you felt the knots begin to loosen, the warmth of the water seeping into your bones and offering a fleeting sense of relief. As Azriel massaged your shoulders, you couldn't suppress a slight whimper, the tension in your body betraying the pain that still lingered within you. Heat flooded your cheeks as you immediately apologized, feeling embarrassed by your body's involuntary response.

Azriel's movements faltered slightly at the sound, his senses heightened by the scent of your arousal that filled the air. Swallowing hard, he fought to keep his own desires in check, the tension between you palpable in the confined space of the bathroom.

You stuttered slightly as you tried to explain, your words coming out in fragmented whispers. "I'm sorry... I just..." Another whimper escaped your lips as you curled into yourself, pulling your legs to your chest in a feeble attempt to shield yourself from the discomfort that still plagued you. "It still hurts."

Azriel paused for a moment, the weight of your words sinking in as he contemplated his next move. When he spoke again, his voice was raspy and deep, tinged with sincerity. "Do you want me to help?" Your eyes widened at the question, your body trembling slightly as you shook your head. "Please don't do this because you pity me," you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper.

Furrowing his brow, Azriel leaned forward slightly, his gaze locking with yours. "Believe me," he murmured, his tone firm and unwavering. "Me fucking you would have nothing to do with pity." His words hung heavy in the air, filled with conviction and a promise of something more profound than mere sympathy.  As you met his gaze, your pupils blown and cheeks flushed, uncertainty still lingered in your eyes. Azriel noticed, and in that moment of vulnerability, he bared his own desires to you.

"If you had asked, I would have fucked you right there on that table," he confessed, his voice low and filled with raw desire. "No hesitation. No remorse. Just us." He paused, his gaze intense as he continued, his words tinged with a hint of  need. "And I would have taken my sweet time, making you forget any other male you've ever been with. I would have tasted every inch of you, every drop of your arousal, until you were begging for release."

He swallowed hard, his eyes burning into yours. "And afterwards," he added, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "I would have savored the sight of you, laying there, fucked out and trembling, as I licked my cum from your cunt."  As he voiced his desires, your body responded instinctively, a low moan escaping your lips, anticipation coursing through you. The tension between you grew thick. In the heat of the moment, you couldn't resist expressing your own desires, your words dripping with longing and want. "I want you, Azriel," you murmured, your voice laced with need. "I want you to fuck me until I can't think straight, until I'm begging you to stop."

Without hesitation, your lips crashed into his, a desperate hunger igniting between you. The kiss was fierce, fueled by longing and desire. You surged from the bath, water splashing around you, and pressed your wet, naked body against his chest. He groaned into the kiss, the sound vibrating between your lips. Prying your lips open with his, his tongue ventured forth into your mouth, exploring every inch of you, as if he was trying to commit it to memory. "Shit, you have no idea how much you infuriate me," his voice rumbled deep in his chest. He pulls you from the bath then, hiking you up in his arms, hands on your thighs as you wrap your legs around his middle. "How effortlessly you occupy so much space in my mind."

As he carries you, your bodies pressed tightly together, Azriel's breath comes in ragged gasps, his eyes dark with desire as he gazes into yours. "Gods, the restraint it took to keep myself from you," he confesses, his voice thick with emotion. "Every time I looked at you, on missions, during training... I wanted nothing more than to rip the clothes off your body and fuck you right then and there, for everyone to see."

His admission hangs heavy in the air, mingling with the heat of your desire. You can feel the intensity of his longing radiating from him, igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume you both.

"And you, my love," he continues, his voice husky with desire, "the strength you possess, the way you could best me in one-on-one combat training... It drove me mad with desire, the urge to ravish you, to claim you as mine."

With each word, his voice grows more fervent, his grip on you tightening as he carries you toward the bed. "I couldn't bear the thought of hurting you," he admits, his tone laced with regret. "So I distanced myself, buried my desires deep within, but now..." He trails off, his eyes locking with yours, a hunger burning within them that mirrors your own.

"Now," he whispers, his voice barely more than a breathy murmur, "I can't hold back any longer. I need you, more than I've ever needed anything in my life." And with that, he lays you gently on the bed, his gaze never leaving yours as he begins to shed his own clothes, his movements urgent and desperate.

As he discards his pants, his cock springs free, slapping against his toned stomach. You gasp at the sight, salivating at the thought of wrapping your lips around the silky skin of his member. Crawling forward on the bed, you meet him at the edge where he still stands, your hunger evident in your gaze as you look up at him.

"I know I'm still influenced by the drug, and I'm incredibly aroused. I can practically feel myself dripping onto the bedsheets right now," you confess. His eyes darken at your admission, wandering over your form kneeling before him, lingering on your dripping core. "But believe me when I tell you that I have fantasized about this moment so many times, Azriel."

Biting your bottom lip slightly, you part your lips shortly after. "I want to pleasure you, to taste your beautiful cock, feel it glide down my throat, and I want you to use my mouth." God, your shameless words cause a faint blush to creep up his cheeks, his dark hair still disheveled from the day's events.

His cock twitches in anticipation as you confess your desires, your words sending a shiver of anticipation down his spine. "I want you, Azriel," you continue, your voice low and sultry, "I need to taste you, to feel you fill my mouth and fuck me."

His own arousal surges to new heights at your shameless admission, his gaze locked on your lips, parted and inviting. "Then take me," he growls, his voice rough with need, "show me how much you want it." And with that, he guides himself to your waiting lips, his cock throbbing with anticipation as he presses against your tongue.

As you lower your mouth towards him, you flatten your tongue, tracing a strong strip up his long shaft, relishing the taste and texture of his skin. Your movements are deliberate, teasing, as you kitten-lick at his throbbing head, savoring every twitch and shudder that runs through his body.

Opening your mouth further, you eagerly suck him into your warmth, feeling him harden even more within your mouth. Your lips form a tight seal around him as you take him deeper, inch by inch, until he hits the back of your throat. You relax your throat muscles, taking him in completely, reveling in the feeling of fullness and the primal sounds of pleasure that escape him.

Your tongue dances around him, swirling and caressing, as you bob your head rhythmically, matching the pace of his rising desire. His hands find their way into your hair, threading through the strands as he guides your movements, urging you on with gentle pressure.

Each suction sends a wave of pleasure coursing through him, and you drink in every drop of his arousal, your own desire building with each passing moment. You're lost in the intoxicating rhythm of give and take, completely consumed by the need to pleasure him, to taste him, to feel him pulsing against your tongue.

As your lips wrap around him, Azriel grits his teeth, his eyes locked on you with a fierce intensity. He watches intently as you graze your teeth over the vein along his shaft, a deliberate tease that elicits a low growl from deep within his chest. He knows you're testing him, pushing him to the edge, and he can feel the tension coiling tighter with each passing second.

"You take me so well," he grunts through clenched teeth, his voice strained with desire. "Sucking my cock like that, driving me insane."

But as you continue to tease him, grazing your teeth and tongue over his sensitive skin, he feels himself reaching his limit. With a warning growl, he tightens his grip on your hair, his voice laced with a hint of desperation. "Keep teasing me like that, and I'll snap. I won't be able to hold back."

Your groan around his cock, a mischievous glint in your eyes, pushes him over the edge. With a growl of frustration, he releases you with a pop, watching as you smile innocently at him before flattening your tongue to lick up his shaft again. "You little minx," he breathes, his tone a mixture of frustration and desire. "You brought this upon yourself."

With that, he loses control, gripping your throat tightly as he uses your mouth for his own pleasure. His hips snap harshly, fucking your throat with an urgency that leaves you gasping for air. He can feel your gag reflex kicking in, but he doesn't relent, pushing you to your limits as he drives himself closer to the edge. "That's it, princess," he speaks through gritted teeth, his voice strained with need. "Take it all. You know you want it."

As he only pulls out when your eyes well with tears, gagging around him again, your jaw slack and drooling all over your chin, a string of saliva connects your mouth still to the tip of his cock as he retreats, chest heaving. He caresses your cheek, his touch gentle yet possessive, before dipping down to grab your chin with his thumb.

"Look at you," he murmurs, his voice a husky whisper as he gazes down at you. "So hungry for my cock. Bet your cunt is already waiting for me to bury myself inside it."

A whimper escapes your lips at his words, and he smirks down at you, the corners of his lips curling into a wicked grin. "Open your mouth again," he commands, guiding your head to lean back a bit as he slips his cock back into your warm mouth. He moans sinfully as he sheathes his cock into your willing mouth, the sensation sending shivers down his spine.

"Knees apart," he orders, his voice firm yet laced with desire, and you obey without hesitation, shifting to part your legs. You gasp around his length when you feel a cool touch on your thighs, sliding up your body. Your eyes widen in surprise when you realize he is using his shadows on you, and his smirk grows wider.

Your breath hitches as you feel friction between your legs, the shadows brushing against your clit, sliding through your wet heat. "You filthy thing," he chuckles lowly, his voice a dark whisper. "You like that," he states, groaning when your moan sends vibrations through his cock, intensifying the pleasure coursing through him. Your drugged form, heightened senses and all, nearly reaches the peak of ecstasy when one of his hands falls to knead one of your breasts and a shadow brushes over one of your wings softly. With a gasp, you pull back, your body shaking with need.

"Fuck, Azriel," you pant, your voice laced with desperation. "I need you inside of me." A wicked grin spreads across his lips as he looks down at you, his eyes smoldering with desire. "You want me to fill you up, don't you?" he growls, his voice dripping with raw lust. "You want my cock stretching you out, pounding into you until you can't take it anymore."

Your breath catches in your throat at his words, desire coursing through you like wildfire. "Yes," you whimper, your voice barely more than a needy whisper. "Please, Azriel, I need you to fuck me hard." He leans in close, his breath hot against your ear as he murmurs, "I'm going to make you scream my name, darling. You're going to beg for more, beg for me to never stop."

He lifts you slightly, guiding you as he turns you around, bending you over until you're on all fours, your wings fluttering with excitement. With a hand placed between your wings on your spine, he presses down, arching your back.

"God, you're gorgeous," he murmurs, admiring the sight before him. Using his knee, he nudges your legs apart, positioning himself behind you. "You're absolutely soaked."

Collecting some of your slick with his cock, he slides through your wet cunt, coating himself in your arousal. Your loud whine fills the air as you feel him grind into you. "Azriel," you moan his name, gasping when a harsh slap lands on your right ass cheek, leaving a handprint behind. Your pussy pulses with desire as you try to rub yourself against his hardness. "Fuck me," you seethe, your voice dripping with need.

He obliges, plunging into you with a force that sends your body reeling forward. You curse loudly as he inches deeper, until he's completely buried in your cunt, hitting your cervix. Azriel twitches at the tightness around him. "Shit, you're so tight," he groans, the intensity of the moment overwhelming both of you.

With a primal need driving him, Azriel begins to move within you, each thrust growing more relentless than the last. His hips collide with yours in a rhythm that's both punishing and intoxicating, the sound of flesh meeting flesh echoing through the room.

Your body responds eagerly to his every move, meeting his thrusts with equal fervor. Your moans fill the air, a symphony of desire that spurs him on further. Azriel's grip tightens on your hips as he sets a punishing pace, his cock delving deep into your slick heat with each powerful thrust.

The sensation is overwhelming, pleasure coursing through your veins like fire. Your nails dig into the sheets as you surrender to the ecstasy of his touch, your body arching against him in a desperate bid for more. As Azriel's thrusts grow more fervent, he groans, his voice strained with desire. "You feel so good," he pants, his breath hot against your skin. "You take me so well."

You respond with a needy whimper, your fingers clawing at the sheets beneath you. "Harder," you plead, your voice barely more than a breathy whisper. "Please, Azriel, fuck me harder." He grunts in response, his movements becoming more forceful as he drives into you with unrestrained passion. "Like this?" he growls, his voice rough with need as he increases the tempo of his thrusts.

You can only moan in response, the pleasure overwhelming as he takes you to new heights of ecstasy. "Yes," you gasp, your voice trembling with desire. "Just like that." With each powerful thrust, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of oblivion, the pleasure building to a crescendo that threatens to consume you. "I'm close," you whimper, your voice filled with urgency. "So close, Azriel."

He grunts in response, his own release drawing near. "Come for me," he urges, his voice low and husky as he drives into you with unbridled passion. "Let go, my love. Let me feel you." With a cry of ecstasy, you shatter beneath him, waves of pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave. "Azriel!" you gasp, your voice echoing in the room as you succumb to the overwhelming sensation.

"I'm not done with you," he coos, withdrawing from you with a determined gleam in his eyes. In one fluid motion, he shifts positions, effortlessly lifting you into his arms as if you weigh nothing. "I need to look at you while I make you come again." Your breath catches in your throat as Azriel's commanding voice fills the room, sending shivers down your spine. You cling to him as he effortlessly lifts you, feeling weightless in his embrace, your legs draped over his shoulders.

The sensation of being held by him, of being completely at his mercy, ignites a fire within you as he plunges into you with a primal hunger. With each powerful thrust, you cling to him desperately, your nails digging into his skin as you surrender yourself to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins.

You gasp, your voice echoing in the room as he drives into you with unrelenting force. "Please, Azriel, don't stop." He grunts in response, his movements growing more frenzied as he takes you to the brink of ecstasy once more. "I won't," he growls, his voice thick with lust as he pistons into you with intensity. In the heat of the moment, Azriel's movements become more frenzied, his muscles straining as he drives into you with an unyielding passion. Your body quivers with each powerful thrust, the intensity of his gaze locking you in a mesmerizing trance.

The room swirls with shadows, dancing in a frenetic display of their master's passion. Beads of sweat form on Azriel's forehead, his brows furrowed in concentration as he maintains eye contact with you, his hazel eyes ablaze with desire.

Curses escape his lips as he nears the edge, his rhythm relentless as he repeatedly strikes that sweet spot deep within you. Your head falls back in ecstasy, your entire being consumed by the raw intensity of his thrusts, the sound of his balls slapping against your skin adding to the symphony of pleasure.

With a primal scream, you climax again, your essence gushing around him as you convulse in ecstasy. Wetness cascades down his legs as you drown him in the waves of your release. When you lock eyes with him again, you see the turmoil reflected in his gaze, the desire for release warring with the need to control.

As he begins to slow, ready to withdraw, you refuse to let him pull away. Your voice cuts through the haze of passion, commanding and insistent. "No," you declare, your tone leaving no room for argument. "I want you to fill me. I want every last drop of you."

A mix of desire and determination flashes in Azriel's eyes as he succumbs to your command. With a growl, he thrusts into you one final time, burying himself deep within your core as he spills his essence into you with abandon.

Azriel's breath is ragged against your skin, his body still trembling with the aftershocks of his release as he continues to grind into you, riding out the waves of his orgasm. You both pant heavily, lost in the intoxicating embrace of each other's warmth.

In the quiet of the room, the steady ticking of time seems to slow, the rhythm of your hearts gradually synchronizing as you revel in the aftermath of your passionate union. With each passing moment, the remnants of the drug that once clouded your senses dissipate, leaving you both in a state of serene clarity. Suddenly, Rhys's urgent voice breaks through the tranquility, invading Azriel's mind with a sense of urgency. Azriel's grip tightens around your hip instinctively, his focus momentarily pulled away from the blissful moment you share. "Brother, where are you? Is everything fine?" Rhys's concern reverberates in his mental voice, a stark reminder of the dangers that still loom beyond the sanctuary of your embrace.

Azriel's response is curt, his mental voice tinged with irritation as he struggles to maintain his composure amidst the lingering ecstasy. "Yes," he confirms, the word clipped with impatience as he tries to convey his need for privacy.

Relief floods Rhys's voice at the reassurance, but Azriel can sense his brother's lingering worry. "Gods, what happened, I wasn't able to reach you," Rhys presses, his concern palpable even through their mental connection. Azriel's annoyance bubbles to the surface, his desire to savor the aftermath of your passion momentarily overshadowed by the intrusion of reality. With a low growl, he sends a brusque reply, his focus returning to the warmth of your body pressed against his. "I'm kind of busy right now, Rhys," he grumbles, his tone a mixture of irritation and longing as he tunes out the outside world, fully immersed in the intoxicating sensation of being buried deep inside you.

A brief pause follows Azriel's curt response, the tension in the mental connection palpable as Rhys gathers his thoughts. Then, with a hint of playful sarcasm, Rhys's voice echoes in Azriel's mind. "Ah, I see. Busy indeed," Rhys remarks, his tone laden with amusement and a touch of mischief, his words carrying a knowing undertone that hints at his awareness of Azriel's current state of affairs.

Azriel's jaw clenches slightly at the teasing remark, his irritation flickering momentarily before being replaced by a begrudging amusement. He shoots back a mental retort, his tone dry and laced with exasperation. "Do you mind? I'm in the middle of something here," he replies, a hint of playfulness seeping into his mental voice despite his attempt to maintain an air of annoyance.

Rhys's laughter rings in Azriel's mind, a warm and familiar sound that serves as a reminder of the unbreakable bond between them. "Carry on, brother,”

With a soft sigh, Azriel shifts his head, planting tender kisses along the curve of your neck, the warmth of his lips sending shivers down your spine. He hums softly against your skin, his movements deliberate and gentle as he relishes the intimacy of the moment. Pulling back slightly, he meets your gaze, a knowing look reflected in your eyes.

"Rhys?" you inquire, a hint of curiosity lacing your voice. Azriel's expression darkens slightly at the mention of his brother's name, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. "Yes, but I'd rather not have my brother's name on your lips while my cock is still buried deep inside your cunt," he replies, his voice low and husky, his gaze intense as he holds your gaze.

You chuckle softly at his response, a mischievous glint dancing in your eyes as you playfully tease him. "Fair enough," you concede, a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. Azriel's frown deepens momentarily before giving way to a smirk of his own.

He kisses you once more, his lips lingering against yours before he slides out of you, gently setting you back down on your feet. As you stand there together, still caught in the aftermath, you decide to address the elephant in the room. "This doesn't have to be a one-time thing, you know," you say, your voice soft but resolute, seeking clarity in the midst of the intimacy you've shared. Azriel meets your gaze, his expression serious yet filled with a hint of vulnerability.

"I don't want it to be," he responds, his voice a low murmur, his eyes locking with yours as he lays bare his desires and intentions. "Good," you state, a sense of satisfaction in your voice.

"Good," he echoes, a soft smile playing on his lips as he gazes at you.

You move on shaky legs, his hand enveloping yours as you make your way to the bathroom together. "Now, I really want to clean up," you state, casting a playful glance over your shoulder at him. "But there's room for two sets of wings in the tub."

His body responds immediately, his eyes darkening once again as he takes in the sway of your hips while you lead the way to the bathroom, a lingering gaze on your bare ass.

"We're not returning for another day. Something came up," he sends out to Rhys, already on your heels as you chase each other into the bath.

"Sure you do, brother," Rhys's voice comes through, laced with amusement. "Just don't forget she still has to fly back home."

The flight back home indeed turned out to be quite difficult.

#smut #x reader #azriel acotar #acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel x reader #reader insert #filth #pure filth #azriel smut #azriel fanfic #azriel x you #azriel angst

[inlovewithpandora]

- Party Girl -

Pairing: Protective!Miles!42 x fem!drunk!reader

Request: [ anonymous ] Protective 42 Miles when his girl calls him high or drunk (she's at a party and he didn't know) so he goes to pick her up and some dude is trying to get at her?

Synopsis: When Miles gets a post notification that you posted something on your story he assumes it’s a selfie of you but that idea flies out the window when he sees a bottle of alcohol in your hand.

Content: Aged!up Miles, fluff, angst (if you squint hard enough), established relationship (bf & gf), mention of alcohol/drinking, reader being under the influence

Author’s Note: Thank you for sending this request in! I hope you enjoy and that it meets your expectations! This was a really good request and I enjoyed writing it because I’ve been wanting to write drunk!reader for a while. Let me know what you think by sending an anonymous ask or comment if you feel comfortable!

Word Count: 1.1k

Glossary: Princesa - Princess

Extra: Requests are open! Please read rules before requesting! || Likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated❤️!

Links: Navigation || Atsv Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Taglist

As Miles lays across his bed, closing the text thread with one of his friends, he gets a notification from Instagram saying that you added something to your story. He assumes it’s one of your normal posts, a boomerang of yourself, a picture of you and him, or a daily quote with a song playing, but when he opens your story, it turns out to surprisingly be the complete opposite.

It is a picture of a bottle of Pink Whitney in your hand. His face scrunches up at the sight, wondering why you have a bottle of alcohol. He clicks over to see what else you’ve posted and he’s met with the sight of you pouring the bottle of alcohol into your mouth and his ears are filled with the sound of your friends cheering you on and loud music playing in the background.

To say Miles was baffled would be an understatement. You’ve never been a person who liked to drink or party, you would always rather stay home or invite Miles over so both of you could spend time together, thus to see this side of you, he’s caught him off guard. He immediately goes to your text thread and his fingers begin to rapidly type away.

—

Watching your friends dance with each other while pouring yourself another drink for the night, you feel your phone vibrate in your back pocket. You reach for your phone and check your messages.

You forgot that you didn’t tell Miles that you were coming to the party since your friends told you about it so last minute. You put your cup down and try to text him back, but you can barely see the words let alone coordinate your fingers properly to type out the sentence you want, so you decide to call him.

Once you press the call button, it only rings one time before you hear Miles' voice. “Princesa, are you okay?” He asks, making sure that you are okay before he starts bombarding you with different questions.

“I’m fine, baby! I’m just-” you hiccup, “having fun!” He can tell that you are drunk by your slurring words and the slowed pace you are talking in. As you try to focus on hearing Miles talking, your attention span plummets and you begin to hype up your friend.

Miles knows the alcohol is coursing through your veins and is making you zone out and he’s trying his best to be patient and keep your focus on him so he could figure out where you are.

“Bae, I need you to focus and tell me-” He starts carefully before you interrupt him. “You know you didn’t tell me hi when you picked up the phone, that’s so rude, Miles. You didn’t say it in your texts either.”

“My fault. Hey, baby. Now can you please tell me where you are?”

“If you say it a little nicer I’ll tell you where I’m at.” You say in a singsong tone which makes Miles groan under his breath and rub his temples. After he says it in a tone you approve of, you finally proceed to tell him the address of the party you’re at.

He immediately gets out of bed, puts his shoes on, grabs his keys, and makes his way out of the door.

“I’m coming to pick you up, okay? I’ll be there in fifteen. I’ll text you when I’m outside.” Miles gets in his car, puts his key in the ignition, and drives to where you are.

All in while you decide to take at least one last shot before he comes and spoils your fun.

—

When Miles pulls up to the house, he jumps out his car and walks into the party. He looks around but doesn’t locate you which makes him worry. He begins to barge through the crowd of people, trying to find you. His eyes scan the whole room and he doesn’t see you in the front, but he gets to hear your voice.

“I’m so-sorry, but I have a boyfriend that kills people.” You say in a giggly tone with slurred words as you talk to some random guy who has been asking for your number for the past few minutes.

“I don’t care about him, all I want is yo digits.” The guy presses you, pulling out his phone and handing it to you so you could type your number into it.

When Miles sees that his blood boils. He knows that the guy is trying to take advantage of you because you are under the influence. He immediately marches over to where you are and pulls you away from the guy.

“You heard what the fuck she said, she has a boyfriend.” Miles towers over the guy, yelling and pointing at him, making some threats just to make sure his point gets across that you’re taken and that he needs to leave you alone.

When the guy hears the bass in Miles’s voice and watches how his eyes slowly turn pitch black, he stutters out an apology and walks away. You just stand behind Miles, not paying attention or aware of anything that is going on until you feel him gently pull you by your arm.

“Miles! You’re here, I missed you!” You plant millions of messy kisses on his face before throwing your arms around his shoulders and hugging him. He is about to ask if you are okay, but by that greeting, he already knows you are totally fine.

“Let’s go home princesa and then you can tell me all about your night.” He grabs your hand and begins to escort you out of the party, but along the way your feet get wobbly due to the heels you're wearing. You let go of his hand and begin to fumble with the strings of your heels so you can take them off. However due to the alcohol, your hand-eye coordination isn’t the best.

Miles notices you struggling, so he decides to pick you up bridal style and walk out. The walking distance between the party to his car is short, but it gives you enough time to fall asleep in his arms, your head resting on his chest and your small snores ringing through his ears.

Once he makes it to the car, he somehow manages to open the door and carefully place you inside without waking you up. He closes the door gently and walks to the driver's side and gets in. When he places the key into the ignition, he looks over at you and thinks about how he can’t get over how adorable you look sleeping. He leans over and kisses your forehead then begins driving to your apartment.

He knows that he is going to have plenty of questions for you in the morning, but for tonight he is going to let you sleep the alcohol out of your system.

I hope you enjoyed❤️!

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Editor - @justmemyselfandthemoon

Taglist: @toneystank-3000 @savagemickey03 @soilmayo @baizzhu @solanawrld @kxllanxtdoor @kxtsxkii @onlyloaksgf @popeheywardssecretgf @naiomiwinchester @number1gal @spidersthetic @taylormarieee @h3art-l3ss @mellagzz @em-x0 @3zae-zae3 @khamanix @miguellover6969 @beargracecanbeanyone @strawberryclouds22 @ban-al3x @starsharkz @onginlove @kxllanxtdoor @lorarri

©️inlovewithpandora ━━━ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 | All rights reserved. Do not repost, reupload, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own.

#❖ — 🕸️: 𝑨𝑹𝑬 𝑻𝑯𝑶𝑺𝑬 𝑴𝒀 𝑱𝑶𝑹𝑫𝑨𝑵’𝑺?.! #❖ — 🕷️: 𝑰𝑻’𝑺 𝑨 𝑴𝑬𝑻𝑨𝑷𝑯𝑶𝑹 𝑭𝑶𝑹 𝑪𝑨𝑷𝑰𝑻𝑨𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑴.! #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 miles morales x you #miles morales #earth 42 miles fluff #earth 42 miles #atsv miles #atsv x reader #atsv x y/n #atsv x you #spiderman atsv #atsv x black reader #astv x fem!reader #astv x reader

[cybrsan]

Miracle Of The Season — J.JK

STORY SUMMARY: Cast out of Heaven after a painful betrayal, you find yourself having to navigate the intricacies of human life without any guidance from the Creator or the family you have always known. Things only get worse as the holiday season reaches its peak, with reminders of the life you left behind everywhere you look. When a familiar face pops up, you aren’t sure whether to consider it a blessing or a curse.

PAIRING: Angel Jungkook x Fallen Angel F!Reader

RATING/GENRE: M ; angst, fluff, smut ; second chance romance, angel AU, soulmate AU

WORD COUNT: 17.2k

WARNINGS: Heavy themes of religious trauma, an initially negative view of Christianity transforming into a more neutral/respectful view of individual faiths, initial dismissal of other religions, difficult self-growth journey, homelessness, very brief mentions of murder and rape

OTHER/NSFW WARNINGS: Sharing one-bed trope (kinda), mistletoe trope (teehee), first time, fingering, cunnilingus, hand job, unprotected sex

A/N: This is a lot. The story definitely got away from me, but I think that's because there was so much I wanted to say. I definitely could have made this longer, and if I had time/wasn't such a slow writer, I probably would have. It's a heavy topic, but it's one that is near and dear to my heart and one that I think a lot of people can relate to. If you do, I hope this story feels a bit healing.

A/N 2: This is based on the vibes of his song "Standing Next To You" and the m/v for it.

LINKS: Part of the Jingle All The Way! collab with my talented, wonderful friends. Cross-posted on AO3 and (eventually) Wattpad. Banner made by the lovely @kithtaehyung.

"—let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!"

You take a deep, calming breath as you pass the carolers. Their cheerful voices grate on your nerves, but you keep your head down and continue walking. Lashing out at them won't do any good, even if it might give you a moment of satisfaction. It's not like they're the source of your irritation anyway; the crowded streets are abuzz with the unrelenting chaos of the Christmas season, and you have been on edge all morning. 

Turning a corner, you enter a street closer to the shelter you have been calling home for the past year and a half. Immediately, some of your tension dissipates, and you feel like you can breathe a bit easier. There are fewer lights here and less noise, but a few decorations still attract your attention, like a moth to a flame. A nativity scene is proudly displayed in someone's window, and you stop dead in your tracks.

"Freedom of religion, my ass," you mutter bitterly as you tear your gaze away. Why does everyone and their mother seem to celebrate this stupid holiday? 

You know that for many, Christmas isn’t necessarily a holy season. Some humans just use the holiday as an excuse to wear obnoxious sweaters, play the same song on repeat, and spoil one another with gifts. Yet reminders of the celestial realm, of the life you have been cast out from, are everywhere. The nativity, for one. Then there are the carolers singing their songs, and the cartoonish cherub decals that can be found on shop windows, holding banners that proclaim, “Buy one, get one 20% off!” Even the name of the holiday is marked by one of His monikers. Christmas. 

It makes you sick. 

The weather doesn't help, either. Drawing your coat more tightly around yourself, you try to ignore the relentless chill that settles deep in your bones. You’re definitely not dressed warmly enough, ill-prepared considering the sensation of being cold is something you’re still getting used to. It is yet another item you have added to your ever-growing list of "whys.” The question of why God created snow joins the ranks of "why did He make spiders?" and "why is He the most selfish being in existence?" 

You sniff. Perhaps you let your emotions get the best of you at times.  

Emotions. Another thing that’s somewhat new. As an angel, you didn’t really have those. The only thing you ever thought about was following orders and how better you could praise His name. Ugh. It’s hard to believe now that you were ever so single-minded. Though, towards the end, you suppose that wasn’t the case. It all went awry when you started this “list” of yours—when you started questioning things. 

The moment that doubt had first crept into your mind seems like a lifetime ago. Reaching the status of archangel was something you had been working toward for millennia. It was a position that allowed you to work more closely with humanity; you were able to actually guide their paths and alter their destiny. 

At first, it was everything you had ever wanted. The miracles that occurred because of your intervention made you feel like you were doing something worthwhile. But you quickly learned that not all of your missions would be quite as fulfilling. 

You will never forget the first time you were put in charge of administering a holy test. The man had done nothing wrong, yet your higher-ups still insisted that he needed to be "tried by fire." The divine reasons were beyond comprehension, or so you were told. But watching the man suffer as everything he loved was taken from him, seeing the desperation and despair in his eyes… It felt wrong. That feeling stayed with you even as you watched the man's faith remain unbroken. Somehow, that made it worse. 

And then there were those who committed sinful acts and escaped punishment. You saw murderers and rapists living their lives in peace while innocent souls suffered unjustly at their hands. The scales of justice seemed unfairly balanced, and you began to feel crushed by the weight of your guilt.

Thus, the degradation process began. For the longest time, you thought it was a myth, a scary story told to keep angels in line. If you doubt, if you disobey, you begin withering away into nothingness. You'll start to feel things, to lose your sense of purpose. It will be painful and overwhelming and, eventually, you'll cease to exist entirely. You were told that if it were to happen, you must report it to a superior at once. But you were terrified. 

There was only one person you trusted enough to share the way you were feeling—your other half, your celestial counterpart. The one who knew you like no other did. Your Astrom, Jungkook. 

There is an old celestial folk tale that documents the first creation of an Astrom pair. It is said God took one star and split it into two. Neither half could live without the other, nor would they want to. It is difficult to describe the way you felt for him, as angels are devoid of personal desires or emotions as humans experience them. It was simply as if being with him was as natural as breathing. He was the only being other than the Creator that you felt beholden to, that you admired. 

When you first revealed your doubts to him, he simply listened, displaying a level of patience that you found comforting. He answered your questions about morality, about justice as best he could, trying to reassure you that everything happened for a reason. Yet no matter how persuasively he argued, your doubts wouldn't go away. 

Eventually, you began to start contemplating letting yourself fall from grace. The thought was terrifying, but at the same time, there was a certain allure to it. To Fall meant to renounce your celestial responsibilities, and that included no longer having to inflict pain on innocent souls. 

When you confessed this dangerous thought to him, Jungkook gave you a look that you couldn't decipher. All you remember is what he said next: "If you Fall, I shall Fall with you."

His words had been unexpected, and you didn’t know whether to take comfort in them or not. You didn’t want him to share your fate, to bear the burden of your guilt. Could you live with yourself if he Fell too? The answer was an obvious no. But the mere thought of being alone in your struggle was something you couldn’t stomach either. So, you attempted to keep your dissent to a minimum and perform your duties as required. But it wasn’t long before everything fell apart regardless.

Eventually, you were discovered and brought before the celestial court. You were accused of blasphemy since questioning Him was an unforgivable sin and sentenced to Fall, to be cast out from the life you have always known. Yet, the real blow came when you found out who had betrayed you. 

Jungkook.

Your Astrom. 

The one you had trusted implicitly, the other half of your celestial star, had betrayed you in the name of divine loyalty. The pain of the Fall, the feeling of your grace ripped from your body, the scorching burn of your wings as they turned to ash—none of this could compete with the raw, gut-wrenching anguish of his betrayal. 

Even now, months later, remembering makes you feel as if you can't breathe, as if you might die. Every memory of him is like a punch to the gut, and the city, so full of noise and life, does nothing to drown out the agony. Some days, the pain is so vivid and unbearable that it feels as though you are Falling all over again.

A rough shove against your shoulder makes you stumble, and the man who ran into you barely grunts out an apology before continuing past. At least the disruption is a timely one, allowing you to pull yourself out of your thoughts before you spiral. There’s no point focusing on the past when there’s nothing you to do to change it, especially not when you have a myriad of new human concerns to deal with.  

Your job hunt was, once again, unsuccessful. You keep telling yourself that it’s because it’s so close to the holidays and you’ll have a better chance once the new year comes. In reality, you’re sure it’s because you have no experience, no schooling, and no useful knowledge.

At least you’re familiar enough with the city now that zoning out didn’t prevent you from getting to your destination. 

Lost Star Shelter.

The place you’ve been calling home. It’s certainly not perfect, but little on Earth ever is. You feel awful stepping past the crowd of people waiting outside its doors, knowing that they, like you, have nowhere else to go. You've been fortunate enough to secure your spot due to your volunteering efforts and the fact that the manager, Naomi, seems to have taken a liking to you. But not everyone is so lucky. 

You step inside, greeted by the familiar smells of disinfectant and something cooking in the kitchen. The place is buzzing with activity as usual—mothers trying to soothe crying children, elderly folks chatting away in groups, and a few lone souls quietly scrawling job applications. 

"Long day?" Naomi catches your gaze from behind the front desk, her warm smile a stark contrast to the weariness etched in the lines of her face. 

"Isn't it always?" You head over and pick up the clipboard she slides toward you, scanning your list of tasks for the day. As expected, it's long hours of mindless labor, but you don't mind. Not only do you need to earn your place here, but volunteering gives you a sense of purpose similar to your previous heavenly duties. And you have the satisfaction of knowing you're actually helping, not harming.

"First on the list," Naomi points to an item at the top of your clipboard, "is the donations room. We just had a big drop-off and could use some extra hands sorting through it all. But grab some dinner before you start, okay?"

You nod, her straightforward nature getting a slight smile out of you. "Yes, ma'am."

You navigate your way towards the crowded dining area, where a line of people has formed, waiting for their turn to get served. The cooks, all volunteers like yourself, are bustling about, serving portions of the day's meal which looks to be a thick stew accompanied by fresh bread. The food is simple but hearty, more than enough to keep you working through the evening. You make a mental note to slip into the kitchen later and thank them for their hard work.

You find an empty seat at one of the long tables that occupy the space, making yourself at home amongst the people who are engrossing themselves in their meals or with idle chatter. You even join in on a conversation with some older women across the table, who are engaged in a spirited debate about soap operas. Your knowledge of pop culture is sparse at best, but they seem delighted to fill you in on the latest drama, their laughter infectious. 

After your meal, you make your way towards the donations room. The sight of piled-up clothes, toys, blankets, and other items is both overwhelming and heartwarming. Naomi wasn't kidding when she said they'd received a large drop-off. It's a daunting task, but you roll up your sleeves and get to work. You start by sorting through the clutter, meticulously separating everything into various categories—men's clothes, women's clothes, children's clothes, etc., and items that need repairs or cleaning. Hours pass by unnoticed, the rhythm of work almost meditative.

Your thoughts inevitably wander back to Jungkook. A pang of longing shoots through you. He was the one who would always be by your side when you had to perform menial tasks like this in the celestial realm. You wonder what he would think of your new life. Does he look down on you from up high with pity or disdain, or does he simply not think of you at all? You aren't sure if you even want to know the answer. 

As time wears on, the room gradually becomes less cluttered and more organized. You're just about to take a break when Naomi appears at the doorway, her aging features softened by the warm glow of the hallway light behind her. She takes in your progress with an approving nod. 

"You've done well," she says, stepping into the room. 

You can't help but feel a sense of pride at her words. "Thank you, Naomi." 

She strolls around the room, her observant gaze sweeping over the sorted piles, her hands touching a few items here and there.

"It's amazing," she finally says, "how much kindness there is out there, even when it seems like everything is falling apart. No matter how rough things get, we can choose to be generous, choose to help others. That's what makes us human."

Her words resonate with you. You’ve seen the worst and best of humanity firsthand; the same species that wages wars also unite in times of crisis, offering support and showing kindness to total strangers. How much is influenced by higher powers and how much is purely human nature, you wouldn't presume to know. Your very existence has blurred the lines between supernatural influence and mortal will. 

"True," you say, looking up at Naomi from where you're still seated on the floor surrounded by donations. "That’s a nice way to look at things."

Naomi's smile broadens at that, and she gives one last cursory glance around the room before saying, "Well, I'll let you get back to work. Don't stay up too late."

"Goodnight, Naomi," you call after her as she steps out into the hallway, half-waving at you as she goes.

A little over an hour later, you step back to admire your work. Each item has been categorized, ready to be cleaned and redistributed. You move on to your next set of responsibilities: cleaning up the common areas and helping close up for the night. 

The smell of cleaning supplies clings to your skin as you make your way back to your sleeping quarters—a small, shared room filled with single beds. Careful not to disturb anyone, you move towards your assigned bed, its familiar creaks and groans echoing softly under your weight as you settle into it. Exhaustion pulls at your muscles, but you need to wash up and change before you sleep. 

You grab your shower caddy, change of clothes, and quietly make your way to the women’s bathroom. The fluorescent white lights flicker to life as you enter, revealing a row of curtained shower cubicles. You choose one at the end and let the water heat up as you undress. The hot water cascades over your tired body, soothing your muscles and washing away the sweat and grime that has built up throughout the day. 

Shower done and teeth brushed, you pull on fresh clothes and make your way back to your bed. As you settle back down under the covers, you notice something strange on your bedsheet. A crisp scorch mark is visible against the fabric, and when you observe it more closely, you're shocked to realize that the shape almost looks like… fingers? Your heart hammers in your chest. 

"Impossible," you whisper to yourself. 

The sight of these burns is not unfamiliar to you; in fact, you have been the cause of such marks before. It is a common occurrence when celestial beings interact with the mortal world—remnants of their powerful energy left behind. But as you stare at them now, a sense of unease creeps over you. Could it be Jungkook? The thought flickers through your mind, but you quickly brush it aside. Why would he make himself known in this way and then vanish without even seeing you? You can't allow yourself to hope. 

Dismissing the thought, you force yourself to rationalize that it must have been an accident. Perhaps someone burned it while it was being ironed. It’s easy enough to convince yourself; after all, it’s only three and a half slender marks—it could be anything. But the unease remains as you lay down on the bed, your mind filled with questions. You eventually succumb to sleep from sheer exhaustion, your dreams filled with memories of Jungkook.

The next day passes in a blur—the usual routine of job applications, food preparation, and cleaning duties. The burn mark on your bedsheet remains a mystery. You track down the volunteer who did the laundry, and she swears she wouldn't be so careless as to burn someone’s belongings. Despite her assurances, it's the only explanation you are willing to believe. You return to your bed to find that the sheet has been replaced with a fresh one, the burn mark gone as if it never existed.

You spot an older man sitting on a bed in the corner; his mouth moves silently, and the rosary beads dangling from his fingers lead you to believe he’s praying. A small, faux Christmas tree, no larger than a water bottle, stands on a box next to him. The sight stirs something with you, an uncomfortable feeling once again settling in your gut. You don’t understand his faith. How can someone continue to pray to a God that has obviously forsaken him?

You wait until the man finishes and safely tucks the rosary beads into his shirt pocket, right above his heart, before you approach.

“Excuse me?”

He looks up at you with a smile, eyes crinkling around the edges. "What can I help you with, dear?" 

"I noticed you praying," you begin tentatively. Despite your personal qualms with religion, you don’t want to seem as if you are disrespecting him or his beliefs. "I hope you don't mind my asking, but how do you keep your faith? Under these circumstances?"

He doesn't seem bothered at all by your blunt question. Instead, he chuckles softly and pats the bed beside him, inviting you to sit down. You hesitate a moment before complying.

"Faith isn't about having all the answers," he starts, his voice a mere whisper in the quiet room. "It isn't about being rewarded for good deeds or punished for bad ones. It's about hope. It's about believing that things will get better."

“Hope? Still? Despite… despite being here? I mean, aren’t you upset with God?” Your voice is barely above a whisper as well, a mixture of curiosity and frustration seeping into your words.

He remains silent for a while, his gaze wandering towards the small Christmas tree on the box beside him. 

"No, I'm not upset with God," he finally replies. "Man is given free will, and it is man who chooses what to do with it. Crisis, poverty… God didn't create these. They're the consequences of human choices." His words are sincere, spoken with a calmness that only comes from years of contemplation. "God doesn't promise us that life will always be easy or free from hardships. But He does promise that He will be there in those times of trouble. You see, faith isn't about expecting God to fix our problems, but about having the strength to face them."

“I envy your strength,” you admit with a hint of admiration in your voice.

“Strength is born from struggle, dear. You’ll find your way soon enough.” 

“I hope you’re right.”

The conversation lingers in your mind long after the man's words have faded into silence. You sit on your bunk, staring at the ceiling, pondering them. His unshakable faith is both alien and inspiring to you. Even when you were an archangel, before any doubts seeped into your mind, your faith was nothing like his. It was a duty, an obligation, a resolute certainty that was less about personal beliefs and more about the world you were born into. 

His mention of hope sticks out to you the most. You look around the room again, taking note of the different symbols of faith scattered across the room—crosses, menorahs, and even a small prayer mat in one corner. Each person in this room believes in something larger than themselves, something that gives them hope. And you? You're not certain what you believe in anymore. But maybe, just maybe, some of your anger has been misplaced. 

As the daylight fades, you find yourself wandering outside, the crisp evening air bringing a kind of comfort you couldn't find inside. You walk aimlessly, your feet following the now-familiar sidewalks. You end up in a park, and you make a seat for yourself on a deserted bench.

Looking up into the sky, now painted with hues of orange and pink, you let yourself miss Heaven for just a minute. To miss Jungkook. Even the Creator. You can never go back to worshipping Him, nor do you want to, but you can't deny the connection that once was. As much as you wish everything never happened, you are grateful for how much you've grown since. 

Suddenly, you’re disoriented by a bright flash of light and a shrill, piercing sound that makes your entire body jolt. You shut your eyes and cover your ears, but it does nothing to dull the pain. It's as if the noise is coming from inside your mind. You half-crawl, half-fall off the bench, curling in on yourself, unable to think anything, do anything, until it finally comes to a stop. 

The world pauses around you; the birds stop chirping, the wind stops blowing, and people are frozen where they walk. A familiar feeling washes over you, and your breath catches in your throat. You can’t bring yourself to open your eyes. Even in this form, even as a human, his presence calls to your very soul. You hadn’t realized how incomplete you felt, how empty you were, without him by your side. He’s your other half, and he always will be. The realization makes you want to cry. You had hoped after the Fall, after you became human, that would cease to be true. You can’t stand the fact that you’re still irrevocably tied to him, even after all that he’s done. As always, fate is cruel.

“Y/N.”

He speaks your name with a quiet reverence as if he can hardly believe you’re there in front of him. The familiar, honeyed tone of his voice reignites your longing for him with full force, but you still stubbornly keep your eyes closed. You can’t look at him. You aren’t strong enough.

“I cannot believe you are alive.”

What?

His statement shocks you enough that your eyes fly open of their own accord, and for the first time in months, you're met with the sight of Jungkook. You're not sure if you perceive him differently now that you are mortal, but he's even more captivating than you remember. 

His dark hair curls softly atop his head and is tousled ever-so-perfectly. His skin is beautifully tanned, and the way his tall figure is silhouetted against the sun makes it seem like he's glowing. His wings are obsidian, gargantuan in size, seemingly consuming the entire park with their reach. He's magnificent, so beautiful it hurts.

But it is his eyes that have you frozen in your spot—those beautiful, brown doe eyes, filled with so much emotion that it takes your breath away. He's not supposed to be able to feel unless… unless he has begun the degradation process, as you had.   

“Y/N,” he repeats, his voice trembling. "I thought you were dead." 

“I don't understand,” you manage to choke out, trying to sound more composed than you feel. You pull yourself to your feet, grimacing at the pain radiating throughout your body. How much of it is physical and how much is emotional, you can't tell. 

He takes a step closer to you, his hands outstretched as if to ensure that you're real, but you recoil instinctively. He flinches at your reaction but still grabs your arms, grip unrelenting even as you attempt to pull away from him. 

“Protective markings have been burned onto your ribs.” Hurt flashes across his features. “Were you hiding from me?”

“What? No.” You manage to break free and back up a few steps, putting some distance between you. You feel exposed and vulnerable under his gaze, remembering how he always seemed to know what you were thinking even before you did. "I didn't even know I had them."

"I need you to explain everything," he demands. 

“You need me to explain?" You scoff and cross your arms over your chest defensively. "What about you?”

“Me?” He tilts his head slightly, his confusion obvious.

“Yes, you!" You take a step closer, anger simmering just beneath the surface. "After all, you’re how I ended up in this situation, right?” 

“What are you talking about?”

"You betrayed me!" you hiss. “I confided in you, and you told me you understood. That you were with me. And then you turned around and proclaimed me a blasphemer!” 

He doesn’t respond right away, and it’s as if you can see the cogs turning in his head as he pieces things together. “Y/N… I would never.” 

His admittance makes you pause. Angels aren’t supposed to lie, though you know not everyone abides by that law. However, Jungkook has always been one of the most dedicated to the commandments. 

“That’s not what Namsu told me.”

“Namsu? The Throne?” 

“Yes, the Throne. The one who exiled me on the orders of up high.”

His eyebrows furrow. “You… were exiled? You did not wither?”

"Wither?" you scoff. "That's a myth, Jungkook. A cover-up to hide the fact that when angels start to stand up for what they think is right, they get cast out. And it's thanks to you that I'm here now."

"I… no." The intensity behind the word takes you aback. "I just wanted to help you; I thought you were sick. I went to one of the Cherubim for guidance—I would have never turned you in for some kind of punishment." 

His words hang in the air, making your heart pound in your chest. He was trying to help you? The thought sends a flurry of conflicting emotions through you. 

"Help me?" You repeat his words, mocking him in your disbelief. "Your way of helping got me exiled! Cast down and made mortal."

"I did not—" He cuts himself off, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I never meant for any of this to happen."

"Yet it did!" you snap, crossing your arms tightly around yourself as if they could somehow shield you from the pain his presence brings. "And now I'm here, and nothing will ever be the same!"

"I am so sorry." His apology is whispered so softly that you almost don't catch it. But you do, and it hits you like a punch in the gut.

Your head feels as if it's about to implode. He didn't purposefully betray you—in fact, he was trying to save you. But even so, his actions have led to your downfall, and now you're stuck here on earth, far from the light of Heaven, vulnerable and mortal, while he remains immortal and untouchable. Perhaps that's the part that hurts the most. The fact that now you are separated not by betrayal but by the very nature of your beings. 

Your voice cracks as tears fill your eyes. "If all this is true, then why wouldn’t you have looked for me?”

“I looked everywhere at first, but I could not sense you anymore.” If it was possible, you think he would be crying too. “Namsu is the one who told me what happened. He said that you… that your doubt consumed you, and you did not survive.”

The information hits you like a ton of bricks. Your knees almost give out for a second time, but Jungkook reaches out and grabs you by the elbows, steadying you. 

"I… I had no idea." A bitter laugh escapes your lips as you look up at him. "You didn't know anything, and I presumed the worst of you." 

His fingers tighten around your arms in a reassuring squeeze. "We can always start over, Y/N." 

"Start over?" you echo, incredulous. "You make it sound so easy."

"And why would it not be? We were not the ones to blame for our separation. Come back with me."

"I'm human now. The only way I can come back is… is if I'm dead."

His grip loosens, his face paling at your words. "I did not mean to suggest… Of course, I do not want you to die," he hastily corrects himself, glancing down at the ground. His wings flutter uneasily behind him, betraying his discomfort. "There must be another way."

"If there was, would it even be safe? I mean, why would Namsu do this?" you ask, staring at him. You're not sure if you're asking him or simply musing aloud. Even so, the question hangs heavily in the silence between you.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Jungkook speaks again. His voice is barely above a whisper when he says, "I wish I had the answers you seek, but I don't. All I know is that I will do everything in my power to rectify this situation." He turns away from you, scanning the horizon as if searching for something. "I need to return and confront Namsu. He must account for his actions."

"No, it's too dangerous. What if he forces you to Fall, too? You can't risk it, Jungkook." 

He looks back at you, his expression hardening. "I will not let him get away with this, Y/N," he says resolutely. "Deception is not a virtue of a Throne, especially not in such grave matters."

"And you won't let him, but you need to go about this carefully. Going to him directly won't work—he's too powerful."

Jungkook tilts his head, regarding you skeptically. "It almost sounds as if you are asking me to be deceitful." 

"Not deceitful, just… stealthy?" 

He doesn’t respond immediately, his brow furrowed as he mulls over your words. After a moment, he exhales slowly, pulling back from you to pace the grass in thought. "Stealthy," he repeats slowly, his voice distant. "That would require careful planning. Secret meetings. Misdirection."

"Yes," you agree, watching him closely. "All of that."

He stops suddenly, turning to look at you. "Very well. I will do whatever it takes to get to the bottom of this."

Your chest tightens, and you gnaw at your bottom lip. His resolve both comforts and worries you. You don't want him to risk himself for you, but part of you is happy that he is willing.

"However,” Jungkook breaks your train of thought. "It sounds like I may need to be a little bit more human to pull this off. After all, none of this comes easily to angels, but mortals lie all the time."

You raise an eyebrow. "And how are you going to achieve that?"

"You will have to teach me, of course." He says this as if doing so will be the easiest thing in the world. “The degradation process has already started for me, as I am sure you are aware. It should be easy.”

"You're serious?" 

Jungkook had always been so straight-laced, the epitome of angelic perfection. The idea of him playing at being human is almost laughable.

"Completely," he responds, his intense gaze never wavering. "I am willing to do whatever it takes to bring Namsu to justice and try to fix this. Fix us. If that requires adopting some mortal habits, then so be it."

"Alright," you finally concede, shaking your head in amusement. "Time for a crash course in 'how to be a human' 101."

He smiles faintly at that, the corners of his mouth tipping upwards just so. It's a small thing, barely noticeable amidst the tension still hanging heavily in the air between you two, but it's enough. Enough to remind you that the way you felt about him in Heaven, despite not being able to feel, was some kind of love. You don't know where that leaves you now or what you're going to do about it, but procrastination is another human skill you have come to love. Maybe you'll teach him that eventually.

"Lesson one," you start, pointing a finger at him in mock sternness. "Humans don't always speak so formally or in such grandiose phrases. ‘I am going to bring Namsu to justice' sounds archaic or like something a two-bit superhero would say."

His lips quirk upward into a more genuine smile this time. "I see," he replies, his voice deliberately casual. "So how would a human say it?"

"Well, for starters, you could use slang," you suggest. 

Jungkook’s brows furrow, an almost comical look of concentration on his face. “Slang,” he repeats, testing the word on his tongue.

“Yes, slang. Humans don’t always pronounce every single word, and they often come up with new, shorter words to replace certain phrases. You could say something like, 'Namsu’s gonna get what he deserves.'”

He nods, repeating your words slowly. “Namsu... is going to get what he deserves.”

You burst out laughing at his attempt. The prim, stoic angel fumbling his way through human speech? It is truly a sight to behold. 

"Laughing at my expense?" He feigns hurt, but there's a playful twinkle in his eyes that gives him away. "I guess that's lesson two then: humans are full of mirth and mockery."

"You're catching on quickly," you reply, still giggling slightly. “And yes, we like to laugh.”

He observes you a moment longer before finally allowing a soft chuckle to escape his lips. It's a deep, rich sound, but it feels tentative like he's not quite sure if he's doing it right.

“Laughing…" he murmurs, puzzling over the concept. “Such a peculiar expression of joy. But I like it." 

"As you should," you reply, a grin still playing across your face. "It's one of the best parts about being human."

Jungkook studies you for a moment, a smile tugging at his lips. "It suits you."

"Hm? What does?"

"Being human."

"I’m not sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult.” 

"There is a certain spontaneity in humans. A vibrancy that angels lack." Jungkook’s gaze intensifies, his voice lowering to almost a whisper as he steps closer. "It makes you shine more brightly. Like the sun."

He's so close to you now that you can make out the subtle flecks of gold in his eyes. Your heart pounds in your chest as his words wash over you, warming you from the inside out. 

"That—" You clear your throat, trying to steady your shaking voice. "That sounds like a compliment."

"It is," he confirms, his gaze flickering down to your lips for a brief second before rising back to meet your eyes. "But it is also an observation. A fact."

You want to kiss him. The thought shocks you—you've never kissed someone before, let alone wanted to. It must be a human impulse. You can't help but imagine what it might feel like, the warmth of his lips against yours, his skin beneath your fingertips. You want to feel his hand on your cheek, his fingers tangling in your hair. But the danger of your respective positions impedes that thought, and you push it down. He's an angel. You're not. Him being your Astrom, the connection you had before your Fall, none of it matters now.

"Okay," you manage to squeak out, trying to ignore the electricity that seems to be sparking between your too-close bodies. "Human lesson number three: we're big on personal space."

"Oh?" Jungkook raises an eyebrow but doesn't step away. "Is this too close?"

You swallow hard. "A bit."

You swear you see a hint of mischievousness cross his features before he complies, stepping back just enough to leave a sliver of space between you. "Better?" 

"Now you're just teasing me," you retort, though there's a soft smile playing on your lips.

"Is that frowned upon?" 

"No," you admit. "In fact, it's quite human of you. Now, it’s time for a real challenge." He looks at you quizzically. "We have to convince Naomi to let you stay at the shelter." 

"Ah," he nods, understanding dawning on him. "I see. Another part of being human—negotiation."

"Exactly."

"Then lead the way." With a snap of his fingers, time resumes for the two of you and his wings have disappeared, making him appear fully human, and you head back to Lost Star.

"Naomi, please," you beg, giving your boss the best puppy eyes you can muster. "He needs a place to stay." 

Naomi crosses her arms over her chest and drags her gaze over Jungkook in a way that suggests she's scrutinizing every cell of his being, from the top of his head down to the tips of his toes. "There's no extra beds, hun. I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do." 

"Then he can stay with me!"

"You and him, sharing that tiny little twin bed?" She scoffs. "I'd like to see you try."

"We'll make it work!"

"It's still against the rules. One body to one bed." 

"I know it's not ideal, but just for a few days until we figure out something else," you urge her. "I wouldn't be asking you this if it wasn't important." 

Jungkook steps forward, interjecting smoothly, "I will respect the rules, and if you feel my presence is harmful or disruptive in any way, I will leave immediately." 

Naomi looks between you and Jungkook, and then she sighs, throwing her hands up in defeat. 

"Fine, but only for a little while. And you can't sleep in the main room. Take my office—the couch is a pull-out."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You pull her into a hug that she returns with a loving exasperation. 

"If there's even a whiff of trouble, both of you are gone, understand?" 

"Yes, ma'am! I wouldn't expect anything less." 

You grab Jungkook’s hand, dragging him along behind you as you lead him through the shelter. You pass through some of the busier living areas, and it's as if everyone can’t help but stare at him. You can only assume that, despite his wings being hidden, he still emits some sort of otherworldly aura that draws people in. Plus, by human standards, you suppose he's quite attractive. 

Jungkook seems unbothered by the attention, too focused on his surroundings and curiously taking in every detail.

"All these people live here?" he asks, incredulous. "This place is quite small." 

"Shh! Lesson four: lower your voice when you're talking about other people. The last thing we need is for someone to overhear and think you're judging them." 

"Apologies," Jungkook replies, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But my previous comment was not meant to be judgmental. I’m just… surprised. I thought humans usually lived in family units, but everyone here doesn't seem to be related." 

I’m. Doesn’t. He’s already using contractions—you must either be a good teacher or he’s a quick learner.

"You're right," you agree, and as you glance around, your heart aches a little. "Not everyone is fortunate enough to have that. This place is for those who have lost their families or homes." 

"Lost their homes? Like in a fire?" 

"Sometimes. Or maybe they didn't have enough money to pay their taxes." 

"I don't understand. Are there not enough homes for everyone? Why do you need to pay for such a basic need?"

You pause, the innocence of his question hitting you surprisingly hard. Of course he wouldn't understand the complexities of human society, of money and social class, of poverty and wealth disparity. You didn't either; at least, not until you Fell and were forced to figure it out. 

"That is a complicated issue," you admit, running a hand through your hair. "And not all humans agree on how to solve it. Some people think everyone should have a home, regardless of whether or not they can pay for it. Others think that if you can't afford it, you don't deserve one."

He looks so confused that you would be tempted to laugh if the tone of the conversation wasn't so serious. "That doesn't seem fair. In heaven, everyone has a place."

"Yes, well, Earth isn't heaven." There's a bitterness to your words that you hadn't intended. "And why our Creator chooses to leave things like this is a mystery to me. I mean, why not use some of His power to help?"

"The ways of the Almighty are impossible for us to understand," Jungkook quietly replies. "And it's not for us to question."

You snort in response, crossing your arms over your chest. "Well, aren't you a dutiful little angel?" 

Jungkook frowns, clearly not understanding your sarcasm. You sigh and shake your head.

"I'm sorry, Jungkook. It's just hard to wrap my head around sometimes. It's why my so-called degradation process started in the first place. Look at them—" You gesture to the people huddled together around the small television in the corner of the room, others sharing a meal or helping to care for the younger children. "They're good people. Why do they deserve to suffer?" 

Silence lingers between you for a moment. When he responds, he doesn’t answer your question. “Their heavenly rewards shall be plentiful as long as they keep to their faith.” 

“Does that make all of this okay?" You scoff. "Why are they being tested like this? In fact, why do they even need to believe at all to be given a home in the celestial realm? If a person is good-hearted, why isn’t that enough?”

Jungkook looks away from you. "I don't like these questions."

“You don’t like them? Or you don’t like how uncomfortable they make you feel?” 

Before he can even bother replying, you let go of his hand and open the door to Naomi's office, hurrying inside, eager to get some space. It's small and cramped, filled with stacks of paper, an old wooden desk strewn with an old computer and various office supplies, and a well-worn couch wedged against the wall.

"It's not much," you say. "But it's home for now, I guess."

"Home," Jungkook repeats softly, eyes scanning the room. He zeroes in the billboard behind Naomi's desk, filled with photos of smiling people, letters from those that she has helped. A smile tugs at his lips. "It's nice."

"You say that now. Just wait until you're trying to sleep and a couch spring is digging into your back." 

"I don't actually need to sleep," he reminds you. 

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "Right, I forgot. At least we won't be fighting for the blanket."

"I can pretend to," Jungkook offers, a spark of amusement in his eyes. "The idea of laying next to you is not unwelcome." 

You blush, taken aback. "W-what… you…" You take a deep breath. "No, that won't be necessary. And lesson five: don't flirt with people unless you mean it." 

"What is 'flirt’?”

"Flirting," you explain, trying to keep your blush under control, "is when people say or do things that suggest they're attracted to each other."

"I see." He pauses for just a moment before asking, "And how do I know if I'm attracted to someone?"

You sigh exasperatedly. Who knew teaching an angel to be human could be so tiring? 

"It's… well, it's kind of hard to explain. Especially because, as an angel, you don't really feel, at least not until the degradation process is nearing its end. But basically, it's like you have an inexplicable urge to be around this person a lot. You think about them often, their happiness makes you happy, and you want to be closer to them, maybe even touch them or hold them. Some people also might feel their heart beat faster, or a fluttering in their stomach." 

As you speak, Jungkook’s eyes never leave yours. They gleam with curiosity and understanding, drinking in every word you say. He seems to be processing the concept, and then he suddenly smiles. "So, like how I feel about you." 

Caught off-guard, you blink at him, speechless for a moment. And then the panic seeps in. 

"No, Jungkook, that's not correct," you insist, your words tumbling out in haste and denial. "You can't… we can't… you're an angel. I'm—" Fallen, you want to say. Human, you need to say. But you don't. 

"Why not?" he asks simply, his gaze steady. 

"Because!" You scramble for an explanation, desperate to avoid the truth of your own feelings stirring within you. "Because angels aren't supposed to feel that way."

"But I am no longer a pure angel," Jungkook counters. "The degradation process has begun. We discussed this already."

"But that doesn't matter! The whole reason we are doing this is so you can learn the skills you need to figure out a way to stop Namsu from forcing anyone else to Fall. Once you do, you'll be able to stay in Heaven because withering isn't real." Before he can say anything else, you open the door. "I'm gonna grab my stuff from my bed. I'll… I'll be back in a second." 

You slam the door behind you, leaving Jungkook alone in the room. It's a struggle to keep your composure as you head towards your bed. All you can think of is his words, the nonchalance with which he said them. You can feel your traitorous heart yearning for him, but you can't let it sway you. Whether it was an accident or not, his betrayal led to your Fall. Led to you being human. And he's an angel. No matter what you feel or what he thinks he feels, nothing can happen between you now. 

As you gather your meager belongings, the man you spoke with earlier approaches you with a sympathetic expression. "You alright, dear? You didn't get evicted, did you? I'll give Naomi a piece of mind if that's the case." 

"No, no," you quickly reassure him with a forced smile. "My… my friend needs a place to stay for awhile, and there's a one body to one bed policy. Naomi was kind enough to let us use the couch in her office for a few days until we figure something else out."

"Your friend, hm?" His eyes twinkle mischievously. "That fellow you walked in with? Can't say I blame you. He's quite a looker."

"It's not like that," you blush, hurriedly stuffing the rest of your belongings into your bag. "Anyway, don't worry. You'll still see me around." 

The man grins and gives you a friendly pat on the shoulder. "I'm glad to hear it. This place would be much drearier without you."

You bid him goodbye with a wave and make your way back to Naomi's office, feeling like you're walking towards the edge of a cliff. As you open the door, you find Jungkook staring out the window. The streetlight spills in through the gap in the curtains, bathing him in a soft glow. He turns as you enter. 

"Gathered your belongings?" he asks, his voice calm as if the previous conversation never happened. For a moment, you feel robbed—does he not understand the gravity of what he said? But you suppose it's better this way. Easier, at least. 

"Yes," you respond, a bit more brusquely than intended, setting your bag down on the floor. He's still staring at you, and you flush under his gaze. "I'm just going to set up the couch. And stop staring at me so intently. Humans get nervous about stuff like that."

"Another lesson," he remarks. "Understood." Jungkook watches you for a moment longer, then turns back to the window without a word. 

You get to work, unfolding the couch and covering it with your bedding. The silence between you is thick; you can feel the tension radiating off of Jungkook despite his apparent calm. Your heart pounds in your ears as you busy yourself with smoothing out some wrinkles in the sheets, a futile distraction. 

With a deep breath, you break the silence. "Alright, I'm done." 

Jungkook turns to look, and his eyes scan the makeshift bed you've prepared. "You've made it look inviting." 

"Should be okay for a few nights," you reply curtly, avoiding his gaze. "I'm, uh, gonna go ready for bed. I know you don't sleep, but feel free to sit at her desk or something. Make yourself comfortable." 

You exit the room and head down the hallway to the bathroom, leaving Jungkook alone with his thoughts. You can’t shake off his confession and your own rush to deny him. The truth of your feelings, or rather the depth of them, is something you aren't ready to face.

After getting ready for bed, you hesitantly return to Naomi's office. The door creaks upon opening, and Jungkook turns from where he's seated at Naomi's desk, looking up at you with his intense gaze.

"Goodnight," you say softly, trying not to let your voice betray how uneasy you feel.

Jungkook nods. "Goodnight," he replies, and his voice is gentle, concerned. You feel a pang of guilt at the distance you've created between the two of you but say nothing more, falling into a fitful sleep.

Sometime during the night, Jungkook figured out how to work Naomi's dinosaur of a computer and discovered the wonderful thing that is the internet. When you wake, he flocks to your side like an excited child, eager to share everything he has learned about humans, their emotions, and their behavior.

"Slow down, Jungkook," you chuckle, holding up a hand to halt his barrage of words. "I can't absorb all of that at once."

"Oh," he says, blinking in surprise. "I forget that human minds process information more slowly. Should I take this as another lesson?"

You shrug, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Sure, go for it."

Despite the tension last night and everything unsaid between the two of you, you find yourself falling into an easy rhythm with him. He's eager to learn and keen on understanding humanity—your humanity. Throughout the day, he continues his studies, glued to the computer screen as you complete your daily volunteering. He takes breaks every once in a while to come find you and ask questions.

"I've come across some terms that are perplexing," he says, leaning on the front desk as you catalog some information. "'Memes' and 'emojis' appear prominently in human interactions online, but I don’t really know what they are or how they’re used.”

You answer question after question until you realize you aren’t getting work done, so you have to come up with a plan B. Leading him back to Naomi’s office, you pull up Netflix on the computer. Jungkook watches the screen in fascination as you explain streaming and scroll through all the shows. 

"Let's try Friends," you say, clicking on the thumbnail. 

You leave him to watch as you finish up your tasks for the day, checking occasionally to see that he’s still engrossed in the show. Instead of constantly badgering you with questions, he writes them on a notepad you provided and waits until the end of the day to go over them with you. You answer each one as best you can, completely endeared by him. 

It's during one of the show's more depressing moments that he asks you about lying and betrayal, echoing the heavy undertones from the other day. His question takes you by surprise, his gaze focused intensely on your face as he waits for an answer.

"Lying is a tough one," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "Sometimes it's out of fear or selfishness. Sometimes people lie because they're trying to protect themselves."

"And betrayal?" Jungkook asks, his voice unnaturally calm.

You sigh, looking down at your hands. "Betrayal… it's when someone breaks your trust. It hurts, Jungkook. It hurts a lot."

He watches you for several long moments before finally speaking again. "I see," he says softly. "And that's what you thought I did to you?"

You swallow hard, feeling the knot in your chest tighten. "Jungkook," you start, but falter, not knowing how to put your feelings into words. 

"I did not mean to betray you," Jungkook continues. "I realize that my actions may have led you to believe that I deceived you, but it was not my intention. I'm sorry."

"I know." You believe him completely, but the wound is still so fresh that you can’t bring yourself to fully trust him again. Not yet. "I know you didn't mean to, but an apology doesn't fix everything. Consider it another lesson—trust, once broken, isn't so easily mended." 

Jungkook plays with the skin around his nails, an anxious habit he seems to be developing the more human-like he becomes. After a moment, he says, "I understand. I will try harder."

"Try harder doing what?" 

"To understand you better. To understand all humans more, their emotions and their beliefs. Maybe understanding what trust really is will teach me how to earn it back and make up for my mistakes." He's so earnest, so genuine, it almost brings tears to your eyes. "I think I want this as much as I want Namsu to answer for his crimes, if not more. And maybe that makes little sense, but maybe… maybe that's quite human of me." 

"And maybe that's progress," you say softly, looking at Jungkook with newfound hope. 

Your new normal is spending your days with your time split between performing your volunteering duties and teaching Jungkook all about human life. 

Christmas is only a week away now, and everyone around you seems to be buzzing with excitement. At this point, even the inside of the shelter has been decorated. The hallways are lined with lights and garlands, and the common areas even have a few trees set up with donated presents underneath. And, as much as you have dreaded the holiday, you can't deny that watching Jungkook experience it for the first time makes you hate it a little less.

Despite the initial stiffness that comes with being an angel unfamiliar with human life, he has quickly adapted to life at the shelter. He's kind and patient, and he’s always eager to help out where he can. The children, in particular, have taken a liking to him. He's become their favorite storyteller and always has the kids hanging onto his every word. 

One afternoon, you find him sitting with them, singing a song in an ancient celestial language. Everyone will assume it’s some gibberish language he’s made up for one of his stories, but it reminds you of home. His voice is beautiful, melodic and soothing, with a honeyed quality to it that would make anyone stop and listen. 

You stand in the doorway and watch, a smile tugging at your lips. He catches your eye and winks, the action so human and unexpected that it startles a laugh out of you. The children turn to see what's so funny, but you just shake your head, telling them to continue listening.

He comes to you when he finishes, smiling brightly. "Did you enjoy the song as well?" 

"I did," you reply truthfully, your heart fluttering at his attention. The feelings you have been trying to resist are becoming increasingly persistent the more time you spend with him. 

"That's good to hear.”

Suddenly, the kids clamor over to you both, giggling and pointing at something above you. You look up, and all the color drains from your face. Mistletoe. Who the hell put it here?

Jungkook looks between you and the mistletoe, obviously confused. “Why are you angry with that plant? It’s quite beautiful.”

“It’s a tradition, of sorts.” You say the word with disdain. “When a couple—not that we are one—walks under the mistletoe, they’re supposed to kiss.”

“Kiss?”

“We don’t have to, it’s stupid—” 

“No, let’s do it. It's a part of the human experience, right? Let's consider it another lesson."

Heat rushes to your face, and you stutter incoherently, looking around the room for a way to escape. But the children are watching expectantly, their eyes wide and eager. You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Alright… close your eyes," you tell him.

He listens obediently, his eyes fluttering closed. You had never noticed just how long and pretty his eyelashes were until now. Bracing yourself, you take a deep breath and lean in, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. When you pull back, you're greeted with a perplexed expression as he opens his eyes.

"That was nice," he says after a brief pause. "But that’s really what a kiss is? In the show, they did it a bit more like—"

He leans in to demonstrate what he means, his lips brushing against yours. It's soft and a bit awkward at first, but he quickly gets the hang of it, pulling you closer. Against your better judgment, you let him, allowing yourself to get lost in the moment. His lips are softer than you would have expected. His fingers lightly squeeze your waist, sending a jolt of electricity through your body, and it's not until you hear some of the children giggling that you are reminded you have an audience.

You quickly pull away, breathless and flushed with embarrassment. Jungkook, however, is grinning from ear to ear. "That," he says. "That is how they did it."  

"Again! Again!" one of the kids shouts, pulling at your arm. 

Jungkook chuckles at his enthusiasm. "I think we should get back to our story," he says, ruffling the boy’s hair lovingly. Then, turning back to you, he murmurs, "Thank you. For the lesson." 

You can barely speak coherently, but you manage to squeak out a small “you’re welcome” before rushing out of the room. How on Earth are you supposed to get your tasks done now? It's impossible to focus, your mind running in circles over his touch, the feel of his lips against yours.

When you return to Naomi’s office later that night, you’re relieved to see that Jungkook isn't there yet. You take a moment to sit on the edge of the bed and process your thoughts, your fingers tracing absentmindedly over your lips. A shiver passes through your body, a heat blooming in the pit of your stomach. You drop your hand, clenching it into a fist to stop the trembling.

"Nervous?" a voice asks, startling you out of your thoughts. Jungkook is standing in the doorway, watching you with an unreadable expression.

"I… no," you say. 

"Don't lie," he chides gently, sitting next to you on the bed. “I can tell when you do that now, you know.” He keeps to a respectful distance, but he turns his gaze to you. “I think I'm starting to really understand this human thing. Emotions and all that.”

"Is that so?" 

"Yes. They can be painful sometimes but also quite beautiful." 

You watch as he turns his gaze back towards the room, and silence stretches between you again. However, it’s different now from how it used to be; it's not awkward or unsettling, but comfortable. His vulnerability makes you want to be honest, to admit to the way you feel.  

Just as you’re about to say something, he continues, "But now it's time for me to learn about something else. I need to start strategizing for the coming confrontation."

"Right, Namsu," you say. You almost forgot about Jungkook’s original intentions. You clap your hands and get up, heading to the computer. "Alright. Let's research."

With Jungkook sufficiently prepared, the time soon comes for him to return to the celestial realm. However, he insists on leaving at night, so he can spend the day with you. He referred to it as "a date," and you practically tripped over your own feet, much to his enjoyment. He has certainly developed a penchant for teasing you.

You decide to take him into the heart of the city, so he can observe people in their natural element. There seem to be even more decorations than you remember, and people are bustling about to finish their last-minute shopping. However, you find yourself handling the chaos a lot better with Jungkook by your side. 

He hasn't let go of your hand since you stepped out of the shelter, his thumb lightly rubbing circles over your knuckles. Every once in a while, he squeezes it lightly, a silent assurance that he’s there. Whether he notices your nerves and is doing it to comfort you or is doing it because he wants to, you're grateful for it.

His doe eyes dart this way and that, eagerly drinking in the scenery. You try to explain what everything is—the office buildings, luxury apartments, and tiny shops buried in alleyways—but he's more interested in the people. It isn't until you stop in front of a Hindu temple that his attention is finally captured by a building. He cocks his head to the side, eyes wide in wonder as he takes in the sight of it. The temple is a beautiful structure, with elaborate carvings and statues lining its walls. 

"What is this place?" he asks, his voice full of awe.

"It's a place of worship for those that practice Hinduism," you explain.

His eyes sparkle with interest as he takes a step closer to the building. "Can we go inside?"

You glance at him, surprised by his request. But something in his earnest gaze breaks down your hesitation. "Sure," you say softly, leading him inside.

The inside of the temple is even more impressive than the outside. There are vibrant murals depicting different gods and an intoxicating scent of incense that fills the air. You gesture to the bell at the entrance. “Would you like to ring it?”

“What’s it for?” he asks, picking it up gently. 

“It’s supposed to be a way to announce your arrival to the deities.” 

Jungkook shakes it, the twinkling of the bell echoing in the large room. “Pretty,” he remarks as he places it back where it belongs.

He then follows your lead as you move towards the main shrine, your heart pounding in your chest as you realize what you're about to do. An angel of the Christian God at the altar of a different one? You're almost afraid you'll be struck down where you stand. 

He takes in the offerings with a small smile. "It's all quite beautiful," he remarks. "It's a shame that their gods aren't real." 

You know Jungkook means no harm and that it is what he has been conditioned to think for thousands of years, but you still bristle at his easy dismissal of their beliefs. “We’re real. Our God is real. Who’s to say the gods of their religion are not?”

"There is one God. That is what we were taught."

"Yes, it is. But we were also led to believe the withering was real. Just because it is said does not mean that it is true.”

Jungkook is silent for a moment, eyes still fixed on the offerings. Then he turns to you. "You truly believe that?" 

"I don't know," you confess, feeling a little exposed. “I don't know what I believe anymore. I'm just… questioning. It's complicated." 

"You have given me a lot to think about," he admits, his tone quiet. “For all I know, you might be right. I shouldn't have dismissed their beliefs so easily. I apologize.”

You stare at him in surprise; you hadn't expected him to back down so easily. "It's okay," you reassure him. "I'd say being open-minded is another lesson, but unfortunately, not all humans are."

You continue to walk around the city, introducing Jungkook to as many things as possible. Everything he does fills you with affection, whether it be him trying hot dogs from a street vendor and declaring them divine, or joining some kids who were playing soccer in a park. At one point, he kicks the ball so hard that it lands in a tree branch, and you can’t help but laugh as he clumsily climbs up to retrieve it.

When night falls, you end up at the pier, watching the shimmering water beneath the stars. Jungkook is oddly quiet, looking out at the horizon with a distant expression. The silence isn't uncomfortable, but it does leave you feeling a little uneasy. You reach for his hand, and he startles slightly before turning to look at you. 

"Penny for your thoughts?" you ask.

He smiles slightly. “I’m guessing that’s some sort of human expression, and you’re not actually going to give me a penny.”

“You would be correct.”

“I’m thinking about a lot of things.” He exhales as if letting out a breath he has been holding. "You, for one. But I'm always thinking of you so that much isn't a surprise." You blush and swat at his arm. "But I’m also thinking about my beliefs."

"What about them?"

He takes a moment to get his thoughts in order, grabbing your hand more tightly as if you're his anchor in a stormy sea. He answers your question with another. "What if everything we have been taught is wrong? I mean, we have never spoken with the Almighty directly. Angels, apostles, they can all take His words and twist them for their own purposes. We've seen it in action with Namsu, and with how the Bible has been changed to promote hatred." 

You're taken aback by his frankness, the depth of his vulnerability. You have no answers for him, but you can relate to him and offer what little understanding you have come to have.

"So maybe it is wrong, and things have gotten taken out of context or changed as the years have gone on. Like you said, we cannot talk to Him, so we can’t ask for the truth. Or, maybe it is all part of a bigger plan, and unwavering faith is the answer.” You pause, steeling your resolve, before continuing, “But it isn’t for me. I can’t live that way. But how you decide to live is your choice. Who you are is your choice. I cannot decide that for you, and neither can He.” 

He frowns. "I don't know how to make that choice. Who even am I? What am I without my purpose? Without Him?"

"Perhaps we're not defined by a single purpose we've been given," you answer quietly. "Maybe we're more than that."

"More than our purpose?" 

"Yeah," you say, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "Maybe we don't need a purpose. Maybe it's okay to just exist." 

Jungkook’s gaze turns thoughtful, considering your words as if they are the most precious thing in the world. "Just exist," he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. After a moment, he stands up, looking at you with a newfound fire blazing in his eyes. "I need to return. I will talk to some of my confidants, gather information, and then confront Namsu." 

You knew it was coming, but your stomach still drops. You're scared for him, for what will happen when he leaves. But you see the determination in his eyes, the steel in his gaze. You know better than to try and stop him now.

"You'll be careful, right?" you ask, your voice shaking slightly.

"I will."

He pulls you up and envelops you in his arms. His embrace is comforting, protective, and for a brief moment, it makes you forget about all your worries.

"Promise me," you whisper into his chest. 

"I promise," he says, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back. He pulls away after a moment, but not before brushing his lips against your temple. "I will return. For you."

His words weigh heavy in the air as he pulls away fully, breaking the physical contact between you two. His gaze lingers on you for another moment before he turns away and disappears into the night. You're left standing on the pier alone, the cold wind making you shiver. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you head back to Lost Star, where you have nothing to do but wait.

It’s Christmas Eve before you know it. The holiday you have been dreading feels even worse with Jungkook’s absence, and frankly, you don’t know how to handle it. You plaster a smile on your face for the sake of the children, playing along with their excitement over what presents they are going to get and stories of Santa Claus. But every time someone brings Jungkook up, wondering where he is, you feel tempted to run to Naomi’s office and hide.

Speaking of Naomi, she has been keeping a close watch over you, mothering you as per usual. You know she can tell that something has happened. Once you step away from the festivities to do some of your work, she pulls you aside.

“Honey, what’s going on? These days you seem so out of it; you’re just flitting around room to room, acting like a ghost.” When you don’t answer, she frowns. “It’s because of that boy, isn’t it?”

"He… he needed to go home. He had some things he needed to figure out," you manage to say. It's not a lie, just an oversimplification of the truth.

She wraps an arm around you. "He's going to come back. I saw the way he looked at you, and you at him. And if he doesn't, well, screw him."

"Naomi!" 

"Sorry, sorry. He was sweet and all, but you're my girl. I'll always have your back." Naomi declares, patting you on the back. 

You accept her comfort, fighting back your tears. If only she knew your fear didn’t revolve around him coming back—of course, part of you is scared that something will happen to him, but the rational part of your brain, the part that knows his strength, has no doubts he'll be alright. In actuality, your biggest fear is that he won't be able to stay with you, and you’ll have to go through the pain of losing him all over again.

He's an angel. You're human. There's no future there. Your traitorous heart made you fall harder and harder for him without sparing that a moment's thought, and now you have to will yourself to accept that you'll always be in love with someone you cannot have.

The rest of the day passes in a blur, nothing but forced cheer and mindless chatter. Naomi sticks by your side as much as she can, making sure to redirect everyone who asks you questions about Jungkook. You're grateful for her presence, her constant support, and now more than ever, you realize how lucky you truly are to have her in your life.

As soon as everyone is in bed and your tasks for the day are done, you seek out the solitude of the pier once again. You've been coming here daily since he left. A sentimental thing, mostly, since it was the last place you saw him. But you also hope each night will be the night he returns.

The wind is strong tonight, the kind that chills you down to your bones, and the stars are hidden behind the clouds. You wrap your scarf more tightly around yourself, gazing aimlessly at the turbulent water. Suddenly, there's a bright light and a shrill noise. You aren't scared this time, and it's not nearly as overwhelming as it was. He must have tempered it somehow, made it less painful for you.

The light fades, leaving behind a figure that is unmistakably Jungkook. The sight of him fills you with such relief and happiness that you rush forward, throwing your arms around him. He envelops you in his arms, his wings folding around you, a sigh of contentment escaping his lips as he buries his face in your hair.

"I missed you very much," he says, breathing deeply.

"I missed you too," you whisper, tears prickling at your eyes. "I knew you'd come back."

"I said I would, didn't I?" he teases, pulling away just enough to look at you. "And I have news."

"What happened?" 

You stay locked in his embrace as he speaks, bringing one of your hands to his face to stroke his cheek, to follow the line of his jaw with your fingers. He lets you, as eager to feel your touch as you are to feel his.

"I confronted Namsu," he begins. "But I wasn't alone. There were other angels who had started the 'degradation' process, those who were too fearful of retribution to say anything. I told them everything, and we confronted the other Thrones about Namsu and everything he had done. They didn’t approve of his actions, and they punished him for it." 

"Really?" You ask, eyes wide with surprise. "Just like that? They believed you?"

A soft laugh bubbles up from him. "It wasn't quite that simple. There was plenty of arguing, plenty of disbelief. I’d never seen anything like it. But in the end, Namsu was banished from the celestial realm."

Relief washes over you at his words, the tension you hadn't even realized you were carrying leaving your body. "That's incredible.” 

Jungkook shrugs slightly, but there’s an unmistakable look of pride in his eyes. "I’m just glad he has gotten what he deserves. Now you have justice." He places a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"And what about the others? The ones who have started to degrade?" Your heart clenches at the thought of them being punished for something beyond their control.

"They're safe," Jungkook assures you quickly. "The Thrones have promised to take care of it all. They're going to convene with Him, to see if the Heavenly teachings can be altered. Things are changing up there; I think it's all going to be alright." 

You're overwhelmed with emotion, both relief and dread tugging at you simultaneously. It is good to know that things will be changing, but what is done to you has been done. And now, Jungkook has no reason to stay with you. You take a step back from him. 

"What about you?" you ask quietly, barely daring to meet his gaze.

"What about me?" 

"You have no reason to stay anymore. You can return to your normal duties. You did what was right, and everything is fixed."

"I did what was right, yes, and I'm sure things will be much better from now on," Jungkook agrees. But he steps forward, taking your hands in his and looking deep into your eyes. "But now, I need to do what's right for me." 

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, my star." Your heart stutters at the endearment. "I'm not going anywhere. I want to be with you."

"But… you can only do that if you're—"

"Human, yes," he interrupts. 

"Jungkook! You can't! You can't Fall for me," you half-shout, half-whisper. "You're a good angel, you—"

"Y/N." The force behind his voice stops you. "Even before you showed me the beauty of being human, before I knew how to feel, before I even knew what love was, I would have done anything for you.” His confession takes your breath away, and you wobble on your feet, moving a few steps back from him in your shock. “If you had simply asked it of me, I would have stood with you in the fires of hell for all eternity and still been grateful for each moment spent at your side." 

The tears you were holding back begin to fall. "You would have?" 

“I would. I can. I will.” He moves closer to you with each beat between words until he stands directly in front of you, only a hair's breadth away. Gently, hesitantly—as if for the first time—he takes your hand and presses it to his chest right above where a human heart would be. “Just say the words, and I will fall for you. I will forsake myself and turn my back on Heaven. The pain of losing my wings will be inconsequential compared to the pain of having to be without you.”

"W-what words?"

He smiles, eyes crinkling at the edges. "You know what I want to hear. Be honest. Even better, be selfish, like a human. Tell me what you really want, and I will oblige."

You hesitate. You have been fighting your feelings this entire time, so sure of the fact that Jungkook would choose to continue his life as an angel. You never wanted him to Fall for you, to be torn away from the life he has always known the way you were. But he deserves to make the choice himself. If he wants your honesty, you will give it to him. 

"Speak, Y/N," Jungkook urges, his gaze never leaving yours.

"I want…" You begin slowly, your voice barely a whisper. "I want you. I want you to stay with me." He grins, relief clear in his eyes. "Then I will."

"But you shouldn't have to Fall!" 

"Fall or not, it won't change anything," he assures you. "I chose this path before even knowing there was a choice. I chose you from the second we were created.”

"Even if that means giving up everything?" you ask.

Jungkook’s expression softens. He reaches up and tucks a wayward lock of hair behind your ear. "Does it seem like I’m giving up everything?" he muses aloud, his eyes never leaving yours. "Because from where I stand, it seems like I’m gaining everything.”

"Smooth-talker,” you laugh, a tear slipping down your cheek. He brushes it off with his thumb, his gaze softening even further.

For a moment, you just stand there, looking at each other. It's quiet except for your breathing and the sound of waves crashing against the pier. You have been so afraid of asking him to make this choice, and yet he seems so certain about it, as if it was what he wanted all along.

"Are you sure about this?" you ask him one more time, seeking reassurance. "Once done, there's no going back."

His answer is immediate, "I've never been more sure about anything in my life."

"This will change everything," you say again.

"I know," he replies simply. 

"Come find me when it's over," you whisper, placing a gentle kiss to his lips. "I'll be at the shelter." 

As you go to leave, you can't help but glance back over your shoulder at Jungkook, taking in the appearance of him and his wings one last time. He's still standing there, watching you go with love evident in his gaze. It quells some of your worries. And then you blink, and he’s gone.

The hours that creep by feel like days. You busy yourself with meaningless tasks, cleaning the office, flipping through an old book left on the table, scrolling TikTok. None of it does anything to dull your anxiety, and you're weighing the pros and cons of tearing your hair out before you finally hear a knock on the door. You shoot up to your feet, heart pounding in your chest. Slowly, you open the door, and there he stands. "I'm here," he says simply. "As I promised."

You pull him into a hug once again, burying your head into his chest. You can hear the beat of his human heart and, unable to stop yourself, you burst into tears. You know the pain he just went through, can remember experiencing it yourself like it was yesterday, and you can hardly believe he went through something so awful to be with you. 

"I'm sorry," you whisper, tightening your hold on him. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," he coos, gently stroking your hair. "This was my choice."

You swallow hard and pull back from him so you can look into his eyes, searching for any sign of regret. You find none.

"Are you okay?" You ask anyway, your heart aching at the thought of what he has given up.

"I am," he assures, his voice full of conviction. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss against your lips, and when he pulls away, he's smiling. "I wondered if doing that would feel different now that I'm fully human." 

"And does it?" you ask, smiling back up at him.

"Yes," he admits, tracing an invisible line down your cheek, your neck, your collarbone. You shiver at his touch. "It feels more real. Stronger somehow. It's like you're the break of dawn after a long night." 

Your breath catches in your throat. "Being human certainly hasn't changed the fact that you have a way with words." 

"Only when it comes to you," he replies, his fingers never ceasing their journey across your skin. They make their way back to your waist, where he plays with the hem of your shirt. "There's one lesson we never covered, you know." 

"A-and what would that be?" you squeak as his fingers caress the smooth skin of your stomach.

His voice drops lower, and he tugs you closer by your belt loops. "Human intimacy."

You flush at his audacity but don't pull away. "And what would be the best way for me to teach you about that?" 

"Hm…" He leans down so that his lips hover over yours, and you can feel his warm breath with each word he speaks. "I think I would respond well to some hands-on practice."

Your heartbeat thunders in your ears as his lips press against yours in a slow, searing kiss that turns your knees to jelly. He takes his time exploring your mouth, his lips moving delicately against yours. His hands are warm on your skin, trailing up and down your back as he pulls you closer. 

"Then I suppose we should get started," you manage to whisper when you finally break apart, breathless.

Jungkook moves into the room, closing the door behind him, and sits down on the edge of the pull-out bed. He stares up at you, his once-innocent doe eyes now dark and hooded with desire. You float towards him as if being pulled by a magnet, and he pulls you down so that you’re straddling his lap. Your hands rest on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your touch. 

"I think I should warn you," he says, hands sliding down to rest right above the curve of your ass, "I might be a slow learner."

You roll your eyes, a short, playful chuckle escaping from your lips. "I think I can handle that."

The room fills with an easy silence as you continue to explore each other, experiencing sensations new for the both of you. His hands trace every curve and dip of your body, his touch curious yet surprisingly confident. Your fingers trace the lines of his face, his jaw, his chest, and then find their way under his shirt to the newly-formed scars on his back. They are rough against your fingertips, a stark contrast to the rest of his smooth skin. 

"You aren't in pain?” 

“No,” he assures you, his hands sliding to a similar position on your own back. "Were you for long after?"

"No, but I'm still worried," you smile sheepishly.

He laughs and kisses your nose. "Don't be. Don't feel like you have to be gentle with me. I won't break." 

You laugh in return, your eyes twinkling with delight and a touch of mischief. "Is that a challenge, Jungkook?" 

He hums in response, his gaze never leaving yours. "Maybe." 

His teasing reply only spurs you on. Rising to the bait, you lean in to kiss him, this time with a boldness that leaves him momentarily stunned. But he recovers quickly, matching your fervor and deepening the kiss. Your hands weave into his hair, pulling him closer, and his hips jut up against you almost involuntarily. You moan at the sensation, and he stills.

"What was that?" he asks.

"That," you breathe out, "is what human intimacy sounds like." 

"I want to hear it again." 

His lips find yours again and this time it's deep and demanding, all teeth and tongue and the promise of what’s to come. His hands grab your waist, forcing you to grind down against him as he once again lifts his hips up to meet your core. Another moan escapes your lips, the sound quickly swallowed by his hungry mouth. He tugs at the hem of your shirt, his fingertips skimming against the skin of your lower back. Eagerly, you lift your arms, and he pulls it off over your head.

"Jungkook…" you whimper, clutching at his shoulders. He responds by nuzzling into your neck, his hot breath making you shiver with pleasure. 

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs against the curve of your neck, his lips tracing the column of your throat, down to your chest. 

He places a gentle kiss above each breast before descending lower still, sucking one into his mouth. His lips and tongue move expertly, drawing gasps from you as your nerves ignite with pleasure. His hands are firm on your waist, holding you securely against him as he devotes himself entirely to exploring the new terrain, and you grind against him wantonly. You can feel that your panties are soaked with the proof of your desire. 

"Jungkook," you say again, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. His name is a plea, a prayer. "I need more."

He pulls back, his lips swollen from his ministrations. "And so I'll give it to you." 

You eagerly crawl off of him, shimmying out of your jeans, before settling with your back against the pillows. You grab at the air, beckoning him closer. He does the same, now only in his boxers, and slots himself on top of you, his bare skin against yours intensifying the burning desire coursing through your veins. His hard length presses against your core, and you whine.

"I don't know what I'm doing," he admits in a low voice, his hot breath fanning against your face as his eyes search yours for assurance.

You reach up, caressing his cheek. "It's okay," you soothe him, your hands then trailing down his back to rest on his hips, encouraging him closer. "We'll figure it out together."

His lips find your neck as his hands explore every inch of you, his rough fingers exploring the softness of your flesh. He slides one down over your stomach and lower still, feather-light touches teasing you until you're gasping beneath him. His fingers trace the edge of your panties before sliding the fabric down. You lift your hips, aiding him in removing the last barrier between you. He tosses them aside before returning his attention to you, his fingers skimming along your trembling thighs. His fingers move gradually, inching steadily upward until he's touching you where you're most sensitive. You let out a soft gasp, gripping the sheets.

"Is this okay?" he asks. You nod eagerly, unable to get the words out, and he chuckles, placing a gentle kiss at the base of your throat. "Good."

Always the over-achiever, he slides down your body until his face is level with your core, focusing intently on his work. His fingers move with a slow, calculated rhythm that quickly has you dripping for him. Eventually, he slips one of his fingers inside of you. Your breath hitches, your hands clutching at his shoulders for support.

"Am I doing this right?" he asks, uncertainty creeping into his voice as he looks up at you from between your thighs. 

"You must be," you gasp out, encouraging him with a roll of your hips. "Don't stop."

Grinning, he adds a second finger, working you open until you're panting and squirming beneath him. Your back arches off the bed as his fingers work their magic, curling in just the right way that has you seeing stars. Praise tumbles from your lips, but you're sure that it just sounds like nonsense, your thoughts too muddled to form coherent words. 

"You're so wet," he murmurs in a low, gravelly voice that only adds fuel to your desire. 

Without warning, he lowers his mouth to your core, his lips and tongue joining his exploring fingers. The sensation is electric; your breath hitches, and an animalistic moan escapes you. He takes it as a sign of encouragement, doubling his efforts. Your fingers find their way to his hair, threading into the dark strands, seeking purchase. You can't help but pull, and he moans against you, the vibrations only furthering your pleasure. 

"Jungkook," you warn, "I'm—" 

A coil of white heat tightens within you before snapping. His name slips from your lips as you climax, sparks dancing behind your eyelids as he continues to pleasure you, eagerly lapping up your release. He doesn't stop, not until you physically pull him away from you, body shaking with overstimulation. He climbs back up your body, his lips finding yours in a gentle kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips.

"You okay?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. 

His pupils are blown out with desire, his hair slicked back with sweat, and he's so attractive that just the sight of him has you clenching your thighs together. 

You nod, cupping his face in your hands. "More than okay," you assure him. "That was amazing. Now," you slide your fingers down his chest, sliding over the waistband of his boxers. "Let's see what we can do about you."

You hook your thumbs around the fabric and pull them downwards, and he does the rest of the work, kicking them off. You reach down, your fingers tentatively wrapping around his cock. He gasps, his head falling forward against your chest as you begin to stroke him with a slow, measured rhythm. 

He nearly whines, his grip tightening on your hips. "That feels… I can't…" His words dissolve into soft, broken moans as you continue to work him over.

Suddenly overtaken with need, you stop, pulling him in for another searing kiss. "I need you inside of me, Jungkook," you gasp against his lips, "Please." 

Your hand guides him back to your core, and his breath hitches. “Are you ready?”

Nodding, you lift your hips to meet him. He pushes into you carefully, slowly, each inch an intense sensation for both of you. Your body clenches around him as if welcoming him home, a strangled moan escaping your lips. One of his hands clasps yours, bringing it to rest on the side of your head while he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his heavy breaths fanning your skin. He's shaking against you, and you feel just as overwhelmed. 

You squeeze the hand that's holding yours, urging him on. "You're okay," you whisper, "I'm okay. Move."

He nods, pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back inside of you. Your body jolts at the sensation, gasping his name over and over. 

"You feel incredible," he breathes out, the statement more for himself than for you. “So perfect.” Your fingers thread through his hair once more, pulling him down to meet your lips.

His hips set a steady rhythm, filling the room with soft sounds of skin on skin and heavy panting. He lets out a low groan as he adjusts his angle, hitting a spot inside of you that has you crying out and grabbing at him wherever you can reach. You wrap your legs around his waist, throwing your head back against the pillows.

"That's it," you whine, "Right there. It feels so good—" 

Your words cut off into a choked moan as he thrusts into you at that exact spot again and again, his movements becoming more erratic. He's close—you can tell by the way his body tenses and how he gasps desperately into your mouth. 

"I'm… I'm—" he stammers out, breath hitching between each word.

"I know," you gasp out, meeting him thrust for thrust. "Me too." 

You pull him as close as possible, holding him to you as you both chase your release. Your eyes squeeze shut, and your nails dig into his skin as a wave of pleasure crashes over you, even more intense than the last. You moan his name as you come, shuddering beneath him. He moans into your neck as he follows you over the edge, his hips bucking uncontrollably as he buries himself deep inside you. 

He collapses on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his heavy breathing tickling your skin. He stays there, nestled inside of you, his heart pounding against your chest, matching the rapid rhythm of your own. You feel dizzy, your senses overwhelmed by him—his scent, his taste, the feel of him on top of you and within you. You caress his back, slowly tracing the contours of his scars with gentle strokes, the action soothing for both of you. 

Eventually, he shifts, carefully pulling himself out of you and collapsing onto his back next to you. His hand searches blindly for yours, lacing your fingers together once he finds it. He brings your joined hands up to his lips and places a soft kiss on your knuckles.

"Is… are you…" He lifts his head to meet your eyes, unable to form words. 

"I'm more than okay," you assure him softly, brushing a stray lock of hair off his forehead.

"Good," he whispers, a contented sigh escaping him. 

His eyes roam over your face once more before closing, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. Together, you lay there under the sheets, and the silence goes on for so long that you almost think he fell asleep. 

Then suddenly, you hear him say, voice barely above a whisper, "I love you." You look over to see him staring up at you with adoration in his gaze and a soft smile on his lips. "I know I don't have to say it since surely there can be no doubt that everything I have done for you is out of love. But I want to say it anyway. I want to continue saying it for the rest of my life. I have loved you since before I even had the capacity to feel it, and I will continue to love you until time ceases to exist."

His confession leaves you breathless, and you can do little but turn on your side, grab his face, and place a gentle kiss on his lips. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill down your cheeks.

"I love you too, Jungkook," you whisper against his lips, "So very, very much." 

He lets out an audible sigh of relief as if he had been holding his breath, waiting for your response. His free hand reaches out to caress your cheek, wiping away a tear that had managed to escape. "I knew you would say so, but I'm happy to hear it all the same."

The two of you get ready for bed, and, for the first time since commandeering Naomi’s office, you fall asleep together in each other's arms.

The day you have been dreading has arrived—Christmas. Despite your initial hatred, however, you find yourself actually participating in the festivities around the shelter. Just like as many others do, you aren't going to consider it a holy day. You're going to use it as an excuse to be happy and spend time with your loved ones. 

You join the group of children who sit by the pile of gifts, their excitement palpable as they eagerly wait for Naomi to declare it time to open them. Small hands tug at Jungkook’s sleeve, pulling him down to their level as they bombard him with questions about where he's been. He settles down amongst them, answering their questions as honestly as he can. His eyes meet yours over the sea of eager faces, and he stretches out a hand towards you, inviting you to join him. You sit right on his lap, making some of the kids giggle.

"Alright, everyone, it's time!" Naomi's voice echoes through the shelter, immediately quieting the children down. 

As each name is called out and the kids scramble to collect their gifts, you can't help but smile. The pure delight on their faces is infectious. Noticing your happiness, Jungkook pulls you back so that you’re leaning against his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist. 

He places a gentle kiss on your neck, murmuring, "You seem happy."

"I am," you say, placing your hands over his. "The holidays aren't so bad with you around."

"I'm glad." He turns your head so he can place a quick kiss on your lips, one that is light and soft and sweet, full of love. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Jungkook," you echo, smiling brightly. 

Later, Naomi corners the two of you, pulling you aside. "I've been thinking about what to give you," she says. "I—"

"Naomi, you don't have to give me anything!"

"Don't interrupt me," she scolds, but there's no bite behind it. "Like I was saying, I was thinking it over, and I realized that the best gift I could offer is not anything material. From tomorrow on, you will officially be a supervisor. A paid supervisor." 

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you glance at Jungkook, who is beaming at you with pride. You turn back to Naomi, stuttering out a response.

"B-but Naomi, I couldn't possibly—"

"Yes, you can," she interrupts, her tone firm. "From the day you arrived here, you have been working as hard as any of us. You deserve this." Before you can argue any further, she thrusts a small envelope into your hands. "Consider it an early Christmas gift and your first paycheck. And my office? It's yours."

"Thank you, Naomi," you manage, your voice choked with emotion. You pull her into a hug, hoping it can express everything you don't know how to say. 

She pats your back, chuckling. "If anything, it's an excuse for me to take some time off. I'm getting old and need to start sharing the burden. Don't expect it to be a walk in the park!"

You pull away, wiping a stray tear from your eye. "Of course not. I'm ready to be worked to the bone, ma'am." 

"That's what I like to hear," she comments, her voice carrying an undertone of pride. She turns to Jungkook, her gaze soft but words sharp. "Take care of her, will you?"

"Always," he replies without a moment's hesitation, which earns him a small nod from Naomi.

Eventually, the celebrations wind down and people start to retreat to their beds until only you and Jungkook remain. Instead of doing the same, you decide to return to the pier and watch the water for a bit, not ready for the day to end. The two of you walk in comfortable silence, hands linked tightly as if promising not to let go. 

Sitting at the edge of the pier, Jungkook wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. His body heat seeps into your skin, fighting away the cold, and you rest your head on his chest, letting his strong, steady heartbeat lull you into contentment. 

"Who would've thought we would end up here?" you reflect, staring out at the ocean. 

Jungkook laughs softly, his chest rumbling beneath your ear. "I don't think either of us could have predicted this."

"I never thought I would be happy that any of this happened, but I am. Are you?"

His gaze softens as he takes in the sight of you. "More than I could possibly put into words," he admits. 

"Will you miss it, though? Heaven?"

"I thought I would," he says, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "But Earth has its own kind of heaven. You're here. Naomi is here. The children are here. I have so much more yet to discover, to experience." His gaze returns to you, eyes soft and full of love. "How could I miss anything when I have all of this?”

Your heart swells at his words, his declaration warming you like nothing else could. You reach up to cup his face, your fingers lightly brushing his lips. His eyes flutter shut for a moment at your touch before opening again to hold your gaze.

"You're right," you whisper, your voice barely carrying over the sound of the waves. "This is our heaven. Here, with each other. And who knows, maybe we'll end up back there someday."

"You think?" Jungkook asks, raising an eyebrow. "I must say, I'm a little surprised hearing that from you. I didn't think you had faith anymore or wanted it for that matter."

You shrug. "Honestly, I don't know. I don't have my original beliefs anymore, that's for sure, but I don't resent it all like I once did, either. I think I've just found a new kind of faith. A faith in myself, in people, in goodness, and in love. There are so many different kinds of religions out there, and at their core, they're all about trying to understand the world around us, trying to find ways to cope and move forward. I think that's what I'm doing now, in my own way."

"That's beautiful," Jungkook says, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Somehow both simple and complex. Just like life itself, I suppose."

"And what about you, Jungkook?” you ask, pecking him on the lips. How will you move forward?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure, either. But I think I'm happy to find out, as long as it's with you." 

You hold each other close, each hoping your touch can express what no words could possibly convey. Love. Gratitude. Hope. The promise of a shared journey. What more could you possibly ask for?

TAGLIST: @yessa-vie

#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook angst #jeon jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts au #jungkook au #my fic #collab

[sweet-as-an-angel]

König w/ his S/O during a Panic Attack

Warnings: Mentions of panic attacks, in-depth detail of panic attack, angst, comfort, FLUFF, König being the most considerate man on the planet, no pronouns used for Reader except for 'You', words of affirmation, pet names

König was...confused upon your initial request for him to lay atop you like a weighted blanket.

Why would you want a 250 lbs man to effectively crush you? Especially at a time like this??

König has social anxiety, so panic and anxiety attacks are not unknown to him.

Far from it.

They were the only entity to keep him company whenever he left the house, whenever he thought about how he'd spoken to people that day (if at all), whenever he just existed.

That was before he met you, though.

You'd staved away and starved that monster, keeping it on a short leash and choking it whenever it tried to run away with König.

And he knew that the least you deserved was for him to do the same for you.

He just thought that maybe there was a safer way to go about it?

He was conscious of his mammoth proportions, and how little you were compared to him. He just didn't want to hurt you any more than you already were.

"I just- I--" your words were muddled, you shook your hands as if trying to dry them, trying to shake off the leech-like pinches of anxiety prickling your skin.

Your breathing was short, shallow, your own unique vision of the end of your world, social, physical and mental, playing through your head, shooting a reactor's worth of adrenaline straight into your chest.

You felt as if you were going to pass out and so took a hesitant seat on the edge of your shared bed, knee bouncing the second it was able to.

Tears pricked your throat and eyes, warning you.

You sniffed, trying to keep them at bay, tying to keep the dam within from overflowing.

"I just need this right now." You looked up at him, eyes pleading. "Please."

König needed no more persuasion after that.

Though, he did have some questions.

"Won't I hurt you?" he asked, voice gentle, coaxing you out from the hole you'd dug yourself into. He stroked your hair, handling you like the delicacy you were.

You gave a weak, watery smile, a laugh wanting to break its way through.

"No, no you won't," you promised. You cupped König's cheek with a shaking hand. "I trust you."

König's heart jumped, melted.

He positioned himself above you as you lay flat on your back, caging you. Or protecting you from all that could hurt you.

Slowly, carefully, very carefully, he lowered himself onto you, making sure to avoid any sensitive areas.

His chest was pressed against yours, his legs either side of yours, and his bulking arms lay at either side of your head.

He nestled his face into the crook of your neck, nuzzling you.

You could both feel your heart pounding against his chest, and having something there to almost absorb the anxiety pulsing from it made you feel calmer.

You tried grounding yourself, focusing only on König's warmth encompassing you, his steady breathing against your slim, shaking breaths.

It felt as if he were projecting his calmness onto you, into you. Healing you from the inside out.

"My sweet (Y/N)," König whispered, "Whatever has you in its dastardly grip will have to answer to me before it can reach you."

You knew he was serious; there was nothing König wouldn't or couldn't do for you.

Your happiness was his top and only priority, as his had been yours.

"I'll always be here for you. Even if you feel alone and scared, I'll be there, one way or another."

His voice was soft, silken. He swaddled you in it, cradling you in a rhythm that soothed you.

You burrowed further into König, wanting to be as close to him as physically possible (as if you weren't already).

The longer you remained attached, the less frequent the the tightness in your chest contracted, the slower your breathing became.

You began to feel drowsy, the post-panic attack high - the relief of the ordeal becoming only a memory - tailing off into a lulling low.

König could sense you were growing tired, you nuzzling your nose into his neck, a habit you'd formed when you were ready for bed.

"Thank you, König," you said between sleep.

König couldn't see your face, but he knew you were smiling, he could feel it brushing against his skin.

He smiled, too, and brushed his fingers across your scalp.

"Anything for you, maus." His voice was low. He wasn't long for the world of the conscious, either.

"You will never come to harm as long as I breathe," he whispered. He could tell by your breathing that you were just entering the realms of sleep.

He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

"I promise you that."

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

#konig mw2 #konig x reader #konig headcanons #konig call of duty #cod konig #konig x you #konig modern warfare #konig #könig x reader #hurt/comfort #angst #angst with a happy ending #fluff #mw2 fanfic #mw2 x reader #cod x reader #mw2 headcanons #mw2 x you

[depravitycentral]

Yandere! Kyojuro Rengoku NSFW Profile

Yandere! Kyojuro Rengoku x fem! reader

Tw: kidnapping, mentions of non-con, dub-con, breeding, non-consensual touching, dry humping, masturbation, panty sniffing, a brief mention about virginity being sacred but no explicit mention of whether reader is a virgin or not, Kyojuro is a virgin tho so corruption kink kind of, pillow humping, coercion, allusions to lactation kink and pregnancy kink, choking, spitting, Kyo gets sex advice from Tengen, Kyo picks you up at one point but remember he's literally a Hashira and could pick anyone up no matter their weight, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 12K

HABITS:

In general, Kyojuro isn’t an incessantly horny man. Not only does he hold women in a high respect and doesn’t inherently sexualize them, but to be quite honest he simply doesn’t have time to be regularly indulging in sex or even masturbation. He’s a busy man, and when others are settled under their covers, either sleeping or moaning in another’s ear, he’s out in the dark, dangerous night hunting demons.

And so despite being in the sexual prime of his life, Kyojuro doesn’t have a huge amount of experience. He’s never considered actually touching a woman before, mostly because he didn’t feel the urge to and because he firmly believes in the idea of saving himself for his wife and life partner.

And even once you step into his life he doesn’t magically become some sex-crazed monster – eventually he is, sure, but it’s gradual. It takes a while to reach that stage, for him to both desire you enough and desire sex enough to be wasting his time fantasizing about you and your body.

Little seeds will be planted in his mind as the weeks and month pass, his obsession slowly developing and leaving him floundering when small, inappropriate thoughts begin seeping into the edges of his mind.

He’s noticing the way your kimono dips down just a bit one day – your collarbones are pretty, and he can’t help but have a fleeting thought of how soft the skin of your neck and shoulders must be.

(He’ll return home that night and try to forget that thought, going through an even more extensive training regime than normal, but even by the end of the some four hour session, he’s still imagining how the skin of your collarbones must taste.)

He’s suddenly noticing that your voice gets higher when you get flustered, the pitch raising just slightly, enough for him to notice and mentally file away for future reference.

(Would your voice get higher if he were to fluster you? How would you sound when he’s just kissed you, your lips swollen and your eyes dazed? How would you sound when he’s touching you, his hands settling at your waist or cupping your breasts, or perhaps even slowly, carefully dipping his fingers inside of you, feeling you tighten up and clench down and gasp and writhe and moan his name - )

He becomes acutely aware of the way you always seem to bend over to pick things up, your clumsiness coming into play as he finds himself unconsciously moving to stand so that he has an unobstructed view as you bend over, his eyes blatantly fixed on the curve of your ass, his lips slightly parted.

(He’s definitely thinking of that image later that night, one of his rare nights off, with his hand wrapped deathly tight around his cock as he imagines you bending over for him - perhaps over his dining table, or maybe even over his knee as he gropes and squeezes and plays with you.) 

The thoughts feel largely out of place initially, more often than not leaving him slightly dazed and confused because he’s never thought about how soft and smooth a woman’s thighs must be, nor about how your hands feel so small in comparison to his: less calloused and rough and warmer.

It’s strange, but as his delusions grow deeper and his feelings for you only intensify, Kyojuro finds himself rationalizing that it isn’t so disrespectful to be thinking this way – you’re practically already courting, and while you may not yet possess the Rengoku name, you will soon enough.

And once you’re wed?

Well, surely you must know what married couples do – pleasuring one another, loving one another, spending hours tangled in the sheets with gasps and cries ringing through their ears, sweat and kisses and cum covering every inch of their bodies. And if that’s your future – which he’s positive it is – then what’s the harm in imagining it?

He imagines all sorts of domestic scenarios with you, so why should it matter if the clothing is removed and your pretty smile is replaced with a pretty moan?

It’s fine – and so, while he still doesn’t wring himself dry to you every day, he’s sure to settle down and explicitly imagine being with you in an intimate way at least three times a week – even if that means unzipping the pants of his uniform with a demon’s blood still staining his hands, freshly killed and sending adrenaline through his veins.

(Adrenaline that then gets channeled into imagining the way you’d be so proud of him for outsmarting the demon and successfully eliminating it – perhaps you’d be so proud that you’d be willing to get on your knees for him, your soft lips wrapping around him and sucking, your little moans making his head spin and your nimble fingers kneading and groping at his balls. Ah yes, what a lovely thought…)

So while he’s not the most horny yandere of his comrades, he’s certainly no saint. But really, how could he be when you’re so damn alluring?

When it comes to actually touching himself, Kyojuro finds that his pleasure comes easiest when he’s actually doing the work, actually putting effort into getting himself off. It feels okay to simply pump his fist up and down, but it’s not enough – because being with you would be so much more overwhelming, even just your body heat alone making the experience ten times more powerful, more intense, more enjoyable.

He wants to immerse himself in the fantasy of actually having your soft body to kiss and touch and love, and he finds the best way to really achieve this is to fuck something rather than fucking his fist. But he’s a loyal man, and would sooner end his life than fall into the arms of another woman, even if only for a night.

And so, he compromises by fashioning a pillow – one with a covering of your favorite color, of course – into a substitute for yourself.

And while it feels good to have the pillow at all, Kyojuro finds that even just the simple pillow isn’t enough – it needs more, to be more representative of you, to just be better at convincing him that it’s really your wet, warm cunt he’s sinking into with every thrust rather than the dense plush of the pillow.

And so, with dark ink, he musters up every bit of artistic talent he possesses and carefully, oh so carefully draws in your features as much as he’s able to. He’s certainly no artist, but he’s slow and methodical with bringing to life this poor stand in for your own body – paying attention to every small detail, wanting everything to be as life-like as possible.

Your eyes are drawn on, correct down to the shape, even going so far as to try and ink on every eyelash, the flecks of color in your irises, any eye bags or wrinkles you may have.

He’s drawing your nose, the outline of jaw and neck, and, of course, your lips. He’s drawn them so that they’re permanently parted, leaving you looking like you’re gasping in pleasure, even going so far as to try and shade them so that they appear to be wet.

(Presumably with spit, or perhaps something a bit thicker, a bit hotter – it depends on the fantasy.)

The drawings continue down your body, making sure to outline your neck and shoulders, even down to your hands and fingers. (One hand is drawn with all your fingers curled and your thumb touching your index finger, so that a circular hole is made.)

He’s drawn your breasts, nipples, the swell of your tummy, your hips and thighs, even your calves and the arch of your ankles.

(He’s drawn you so that your thighs are spread slightly, giving him a view into what lies between – he’s not entirely sure of the technicalities of female anatomy, so he’s negating drawing any specifics and instead simply leaving the area blank, not willing to misrepresent your lovely, gorgeous figure – that’d feel disrespectful to you, as if the fact that he’s essentially created a sex doll in your image isn’t. He’s seen enough mothers breastfeeding children to have an idea of the upper half of a woman’s body, but he still shivers in excitement at learning how your upper body looks – though he thinks he has a good idea based upon how your clothing fits you, his eyes greedily observing the way the material is taut around your chest.)

Once everything is drawn, it’s easy to tear holes in the pillow – one between your legs, one in the curled circle of your hand, one between your pretty, parted lips.

Once he’s completed his work he'll eagerly, gingerly bring the pillow to his bed, gulping excitedly and immediately stripping off his clothing. His cock is already rock hard, swollen and pressing against his lower stomach, the tip a bright red and shining in the firelight of the room, precum soaking the skin.

He’d managed to get a guaranteed night off-duty this evening, which means there won’t be a single interruption. He’ll set the pillow down flat, excitement already licking at his every muscle, the room feeling incredibly hot already. He’s quick to settle himself above the pillow, his weight resting on both knees and his forearm that’s pressed against the ground. His free hand comes up to lightly trace at the drawn-on curve of your jaw, his face mere inches from where he imagines yours to be.

My flame, you are so beautiful… He’ll tell you, tongue flicking out to lick at his lips.

His cock twitches as he leans down to softly press his lips against your drawn ones, the kiss soft and slow and meaningful, the Hashira pouring every ounce of affection he feels for you into the action.

He imagines you kissing back; would you be hesitant, embarrassed and shy? Or would you be just as eager, perhaps wrapping your arms around his neck and running your hands through his hair, maybe even pulling on it, biting his lip and letting him know how badly you need him?

He groans, his eyes closed, lips working harder against the pillow, his tongue coming out to dart against the hole cut out, imagining your own tongue tangling with his. His hand wanders down from your jaw to your breast, fingers groping and squeezing at nothing but cotton, but the motion alone has his hips bucking, cock brushing slightly against the pillow. It makes him hiss, pulling back from the kiss and licking his lips, his eyes already half lidded and dazed.

Forgive me, I can’t wait any longer, I must be inside you.

His voice is breathless, and as he shimmeys upwards slightly, he’s spreading his legs a bit, thighs flexing as he leans back, audible inhaling as he nudges his tip against the hole between your drawn on legs, already smearing precum against the material from just a bit of contact.

His fingers are trembling slightly as he pushes in inch by inch, going slowly just like he would if it was really you, wanting to make sure you adjust to him and he feels good, so that you’ll be ready for him to absolutely ravish you.

He’s groaning as he bottoms out, balls pressed tightly against the pillow, his chest heaving as he stares wildly at your drawn on face. You feel – you feel amazing, my flame, oh –

He presses his forehead against yours as he slowly pulls back, the muscles of his ass and lower back going taut, before sinking in slowly again, an uneven sigh of your name slipping past his lips.

You feel so tight around me, does it feel good? Does it feel good to have me inside you?

Just the phrasing of that makes his head spin, the idea that he’s inside of you (even if he’s really not) making his hips snap to life, his previously slow pace picking up quickly.

He’s panting already, all the breathing control he’s mastered flying out the window because this is different – it’s your body underneath him, your pretty pussy sucking him in over and over and over, your moans ringing in his ears as you cry out his name again and again.

Kyojuro Kyojuro Kyojuro, please it feels so good!

He’s imagining the way you’d moan his name, how your voice would get so breathy, your fingers raking down his back, your legs wrapping around his hips.

He groans your name again, hips snapping into yours hard enough to push the pillow up with every thrust, his mind running wild as he imagines how your breasts would bounce at the force, practically begging to be squeezed and sucked at. A hand comes up and begins groping at nothing again, his thumb brushing over where he’s drawn on your nipple, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as the pleasure begins mounting.

It just feels too damn good – it’s so easy to imagine you below him, crying out his name as he fucks you hard enough to leave you utterly destroyed, your perfect little cunt massaging him in just the right ways.

He’s chanting your name under his breath, his eyes wide and staring down at your inked face, his voice getting faster and more strained as his muscles start clenching, his balls tightening and his hips stuttering and his heart racing because oh god oh fuck oh fuck –

He’s pulling out at the last minute, cum spurting all over the pillowcase, his moans of your name filling the room as his hand quickly tugs, wrist twisting and moving so fast it’s nearly a blur. The pleasure is immense, leaving his toes curling and every hair on his body standing up straight, feeling as if fire is running through his veins.

After the last few sad spurts dribble from his oversensitive, swollen tip, he’s left gasping, swallowing hard and letting a broad grin slip across his face. With still heavy breaths, he pushes back any stray hair from his forehead, the bit of sweat gathered there leaving him sighing. He’s quick to lean down, pressing a soft, long kiss against your drawn-on lips, a whispered I love you murmured against the pillow.

He has to swallow hard as he pulls back, euphoria still swimming in his veins at the intensity of his orgasm. Pleasuring himself to the thought of you is nearly too much - it leaves him breathless, feeling a high that doesn’t fade for hours after, and as he lays down beside the pillow, still stained with cum as he pulls it against his chest, imagining spooning you, he can’t help but shiver.

Because if it feels this good to simply imagine, how would the real you feel?

FAVORITE BODY PARTS:

Your thighs

In general, Kyojuro thinks you’re absolutely beautiful.

He finds you to be the single most attractive woman on Earth, and even if he’s never seen your body in anything more form fitting than a kimono or a slayer uniform, he’s absolutely sure that whatever awaits him beneath the cloth will be heaven, the thing of wet dreams.

And the moment he finally, finally has you bare below him, your pretty skin on display and waiting to be kissed, fondled, marked as his, he finds that he’s not disappointed in any way.

You’re gorgeous – and, naturally, the most gorgeous part of you is your thighs. There’s something about the sight of them that gets him swallowing hard, his eyes growing a bit brighter and wider.

His palms get a bit sweatier when he sees the way they splay out when you sit down, the fat jiggling with every step you take, the way they just look so touchable and squeezable. He nearly has a full body reaction the moment your thighs are out on display, his body temperature rising to extreme heights and his attention straining to stay on you rather than your pretty legs.

Even in settings where soft, loving affection is occurring, he's still eyeing them, appreciating the way you look in his clothing, the simple overshirt you’d put on that morning stopping mid thigh and leaving very little of your upper legs to the imagination.

 (You’ll notice the way his fingers slowly creep down from your waist, moving inch by inch until they’re finally laying over the curve of your thigh, idly rubbing and pressing into the warm flesh, marveling at just how soft you are.)

And when you’re both intimate with one another, his enjoyment of your thighs will be more than apparent – he’s always touching them, his hand coming down to squeeze and stay there, almost latching onto you as he throws your leg over his shoulder, his hips never stopping the brutal pace he’s established.

Every position he fucks you in involves your thighs somehow – he’s forcing you to wrap them around his hips when he's hovering above you and pressing down on you so tightly you’re only able to breath in him.

When he’s folded you into the deepest mating press possible, he’s holding you in position by pressing directly against the back of your thighs rather than your knees, often leaving fingertip shaped bruises there from the sheer force and strength he has to keep at bay every time he slips inside you.

Even when he’s fucking you from behind, your pretty ass on display as he sinks so deeply into you that it drives him crazy, he’s making sure to line his own thighs up to press against yours, relishing in the way his balls clap against your clit and the soft, plush fat of your upper inner thighs.

He’s paying extra attention to nip and tease you when he’s got his head between your legs, sucking hickeys and pressing kisses against your inner thighs as he slowly trails up from the inside of your knees.

He wants you to cage in his head when you’re nearing your orgasm, to squeeze as tightly as possible while he licks and moans and thrusts his tongue into you, the only thing he can see and taste and feel and hear being you you you.

Even when you’ve got your lips wrapped around his cock, his eyes are fixated on the way your thighs look splayed out while you kneel on them, his hips bucking as he zones out slightly, the pleasurable feeling of your mouth making him moan and struggle to maintain his composure.

He just really, really likes that area of your body, and while there’s certainly no part of you that he doesn’t like, his penchant for touching you there and always having a hand on your thigh will be very, very apparent to you.

So if you want to tease him, to see the way his eyes darken a bit and his smile grows a bit sinister, sit down with your legs slightly spread, stare at him with those pretty, pouty eyes of yours, and tell him that you’ve been feeling sore, will you please give me a massage, Kyo? I miss your touch…

You’ll have trouble walking the next day, and the littering of bruises, hickeys, and bite marks against your thighs will serve as proud trophies for Kyojuro, who will insist you not cover them up.

His mouth

In the context of sex, Kyojuro lives to please. He’s being completely honest when he firmly tells you that your pleasure is his, because he really does feel that way.

When you touch him it makes his head spin and his hips involuntarily buck, but when he touches you?

Well, more often than not he’s coming alongside you when he’s fingering you, that telltale groan of o-oh and the wet warmth you’ll feel against your skin letting you know exactly how watching you fall apart is affecting him. And similarly, he gets very, very into it when he’s got his mouth working at you, his talented tongue drawing tight circles over your clit and his hair tickling the inside of your thighs.

Every sexual encounter with Kyojuro will involve him eating you out in some capacity, both because he wants you to feel good, and also because he genuinely enjoys the taste of you and the feel of you against his tongue.

And he’s good at it too – he starts off slow, teasing you with playful nipping and smiles against your skin, his eyes looking up at you the whole time, forcing you to keep eye contact because he wants you to see how he pleasures you, for you to see how right he looks between your legs.

He’ll ghost around where you really need him for a while, making sure to pepper kisses at the juncture between your pelvis and thigh, the area right above your clit, even your lower tummy and hips.

He’ll kitten lick at your folds, humming against your skin and letting the vibrations send shivers up your spine, his tongue dipping just a bit deeper each time, until he’s using his thumbs to physically spread your lips, lewd slurping noises filling your ears as he licks and sucks, pleasure making you sigh his name.

After he’s sufficiently teases you, he’ll press a few more kisses to your thigh, then move upwards, still staring you in the eyes, before licking his lips and pressing a soft kiss to your clit.

He’ll tell you that he loves your body, my flame, especially this special spot that always makes you moan my name, before flicking his tongue along it, enjoying the way you jerk at the acute stimulation.

He’s perfected the art of keeping a steady, consistent pattern against you, making sure that the rhythm can let the pleasure build, a dull warmth spreading through your entire lower body.

Meanwhile, he’ll always slip a finger inside of you, curling and pressing against areas he knows you like, feeling the way your thighs twitch and your moans get louder.

He likes when you run your hands through his hair as he uses his mouth on you, especially if you lightly tug or pull; the pleasure tinged with slight pain makes him blindly hump at whatever is closest to him.

And he’ll always, always keep going until you’ve reached your high, even if that means spending hours between your legs; anything to feel the way your cunt flutters against his lips, how you gasp and practically wail his name, your thighs seizing up and your slick coating his chin and lips.

His eyes close as he eagerly laps it up, addicted to your taste – and as he pulls back, his lower face glistening with your arousal and spit, he’ll kiss you, pulling you into a passionate, tongue-heavy kiss.

Even outside of going down on you, Kyojuro finds ways to utilize his mouth in regards to you in every situation he can – he’s always pressing kisses against your lips, cheek, forehead, neck, and knuckles, liking the way that it flusters you and leaves you biting your lip.

He’s taking your hand in his and pressing kisses against your fingertips, singing your praises between presses of his lips, until he’s eventually slipping a finger into his mouth, holding your gaze as he sucks and runs his tongue up and down your skin, the intensity of the moment making you simultaneously aroused and uncomfortable.

He’ll even go so far as to share your toothbrush, just because he likes the idea of a little bit of him being in a little bit of you.

(You’re very aware of this, even without the whole toothbrush misfortune – his penchant for always, always finishing inside of you makes this abundantly clear.)

DRIVE:

Despite Kyojuro’s delusions about your relationship and how you feel for him, even he can’t misread the way you react so negatively to his mentions of being sexual with you. You always freeze up, eyes going wide, your head shaking no and your voice hurried as you tell him please, please no Kyojuro, I’m not – I’m not ready for that, please don’t!

 He’ll respect that, firmly nodding and tell you to not worry, my love, I can wait for as long as it takes!

He doesn’t really understand it, however, because in his mind there really shouldn’t be a reason why you aren’t ready – you’re his, and you know it.

 You’re living together (even if that wasn’t your choice) and you share a bed together when he’s home. You bath together (something that Kyojuro enjoys very, very much, his hands always wandering, his breath hot in your ear as he tells you that you’re beautiful, something hard pressing against you when he’s washing your hair), share a toothbrush, eat together and wear his clothing – you’re a couple, a partnership between a man and a woman, and wanting to express your love physically is a natural urge.

It’s normal and healthy, and something he wants so, so very badly to do with you. But he understands that perhaps you’re not comfortable with that level of intimacy quite yet – he’s aware of how society views women who’ve lost their virginity (he’d never explicitly asked you if you’ve touched another person, but he assumes you’ve saved yourself for him as he’s saved himself for you), and although you’d be giving it to the man you’ll spend the rest of your life with, he can respect that you might simply be afraid to lose something you’ve learned is cherished.

He’s disappointed by your rejection of sex, but he means it when he says he’ll wait for you to be ready and won’t force it upon you. That does not, however, mean that Kyojuro will completely abstain from interacting with you sexually. He just can’t help himself – sure, he may not be actively fucking you, but he finds other ways to placate the carnal desires practically begging him to rip off your clothing and press you against him while he makes you moan and writhe and fills you with him him him.

It starts small – he’s kissing you every chance he gets, letting them get longer and deeper, lasting sometimes minutes at a time while small moans and groans slip from his mouth into yours. His hand initially starts at your shoulder when he does this, but as time passes he gets bolder – it moves to your waist, your cheek, your hip, even over your ribcage right below your clothed breast, the edges of his fingers brushing against the underside of the pudge fat as moving up slowly, up until he pulls away from the kiss for air.

When kissing you becomes not enough, he moves to hugging you for longer periods of time, getting tighter and purposefully pressing parts of his body against you. He’s always been touchy, and you’ve been getting hugs for nearly as long as you’ve known him (even before his infatuation formed, back when his feelings for you were strictly platonic – now, though, they’re anything but).

But these hugs are different – he’s wrapping an arm around your waist and forcing you flush with his body, smiling at you with those wide, unsettling eyes while his breathing picks up ever so slightly, his pelvis pressed tightly against your own so that you can feel something – something warm, big, almost feeling like it’s moving against you, like it’s throbbing.

He’ll ask you to give him a pair of your panties when he leaves for missions, smiling so brightly and boyishly when you hesitantly deliver the piece of cloth to his outstretched palm, licking his lips and bringing the garment up to inhale deeply before stuffing it away into one of the many pockets of his Demon Corps uniform, telling you with a laugh to choose a pair that’s been used next time please, my flame.

(You never ask why he wants the underwear while he’s gone, simply because you think you know the answer already, but somehow hearing it from him would be worse, like confirming a truth you desperately wished to be false. Plus, you’re sure he’d tell you in extreme detail exactly how he uses them, too, perhaps even giving you a visual demonstration because he’s just so eager to interact with you, to feel your pretty eyes on him.)

It’s disturbing, but it’s a small comfort to know that he may be pushy and make you uncomfortable but he’ll never truly force you into sex. Kyojuro may be many things, but he’s at least a man of his word – even if he very, very badly wishes he wasn’t sometimes.

And so as wonderful as kissing you deeper and hugging you tighter and fucking his fist to your panties is, Kyojuro eventually decides that he needs more. He needs to get as close to actually fucking you as he can without being inside of you, just as he promised.

And so the perfect solution is really just that simple – running through the motions without violating your wishes. Kyojuro is ecstatic just thinking about – which is why, when the mood strikes him, his cock straining against his trousers and his fingers itching to reach out and touch, he’ll strip off his clothing, smiling at you and running his knuckles against your cheek while telling you to take your clothing off please, love, I want to make you feel good.

And really, as much as you don’t want to, it’s easier on both of you if you just do – your options are let him hump you like a dog, or be forced to touch him, your own hand wrapped around his cock as he moans and sighs and thrusts into your hand while telling you how good you look. And so, once your clothing is off, Kyojuro will look at you with those eyes, licking his lips slowly and walking up to you, pressing himself against you again and letting his hands sit firmly at your waist.

My flame, he’ll murmur to you, his voice low and his breath a bit hitched because his cock is pressed up against your thigh and god, even that touch alone is enough to make his knees feel weak. Lay down for me.

He’ll have you lay on your back, your legs spread for him and your arms over your head. He’ll stand for a while, simply staring at you, the sight of you in such a provocative position making his cheeks tinge pink and his throat feel a bit dry. But soon there’s too much precum dribbling from his tip to ignore, and he’ll climb over you, hovering over you and wrapping your leg around his waist, so that his face is mere inches from yours and his cock is pressed against your navel.

He’ll swallow, leaning down a bit to press his lips against yours, relishing in the warmth of your body pressed against his own. Kisses are pressed against the corner of your mouth, then down the length of your jaw, down your neck and finally to your shoulder, the movements slow and meaningful despite the near painful aching between his legs. His hips seem to move on their own, slowly rocking forward and backwards, the friction of his cock rubbing against your skin and against the tufts of hair making him hiss slightly.

His lips find purchase at your ear, deep sighs and heavy pants impossible to ignore as he slowly picks up his pace. The stimulation feels good, but it’s not enough for him - he has to move faster, harder, be better, because this is really a chance for him to show you exactly what you’re missing out on. This is his opportunity to show you that if he were to do this inside of you, it would feel so much better for you – it’s his opportunity to convince you that sex with him would feel good, that you’d be satisfied, that he could please you.

And he commits to that desire – one forearm is pressed against the bed right beside your head supporting his weight while the other wanders from your waist up to grope and squeeze at your breast, deft fingers pinching and rolling your nipple between them. He’ll groan your name, leaning down to lick at your lips and tell you that you’re so very beautiful, his voice strained. He’ll bring the hand down to ghost over your stomach, right above where his cock is grinding and thrusting, moving to bury his nose against your neck while he chants your name. His voice is a bit slurred, the pleasure making his brows draw tightly together, his hips snapping and flexing harder and harder.

He’s close, and he tells you as much – muffled against your neck, his low groan of f-feels too good, you feel so good love…

 With his orgasm approaching, he resorts to kissing your neck again, his hair tickling you and the feeling of his cock dragging against your skin over and over making your toes curl involuntarily, because even as humiliating and uncomfortable as this is, isn’t there something oddly sexy about this big, strong man making himself a fool on you, losing him mind from just the feel of you?

He’s desperate for the pleasure he’s right on the brink of as he blindly reaches out to find your hand, his fingers interlocking with yours tightly, the moan that rises in the back of his throat high and uneven and raw. His whole body shakes as something warm and thick spurts against your stomach, a few drops landing on the undersides of your breasts, his breath heavy in your ear as he slowly, oh so slowly thrusts, riding out the last waves of his pleasure.

His hand is still gripping yours, and after a moment he pulls back and kisses you again, his tongue immediately pushing into your mouth and insistent, the red on his cheeks even more pronounced now.

It’s still not ideal, grinding and humping against you like this, but Kyojuro is content to do it as many times as it takes until you finally, finally feel ready to let him love you like you deserve, to let him make you gasp and cry out his name and gush around him until you’re too incoherent to even think.

MAIN THREE KINKS:

Praise

Kyojuro is very vocal in bed. He’s constantly talking to you – telling you how good you feel, telling you when something in particular feels best, warning you when his orgasm is dangerously near, just producing a constant stream of commentary as he fucks you. His voice is breathy the whole time, always turned up at the ends of his sentences because the pleasure is too strong, forcing him to slur his words together because fuck you feel good.

A lot of his vocalness stems from the fact that he’s just so excited to be intimate with you – he’s been fantasizing about this for a long time, long nights spent with his eyes closed and his cheeks a bit pink,

imagining the way you’d look underneath the pretty kimonos and clothing you wear.

He’s imagined what your face would look like when he’s cupping your breasts, thumbing at your nipples and making your brows twitch, biting your lip as you tell him to squeeze just a hair harder, pressing yourself against him because having his hands on you feel too good.

He’s imagined how your thighs would tremble when he’s got two fingers buried in your cunt, curling and scissoring and rubbing against your sensitive walls while you curl your toes and whine his name.

He’s even imagined the way your pussy would feel as he’s fucking you, how it would clench down on him hard, practically begging him to stay inside, begging for every last drop of cum he can possibly give.

He’s fantasized and daydreamed and imagined for months on end, each scenario only making him more anxious to finally have his hands on you, the buildup to actual intimacy with you leaving him wildly excited. And so, now that you’re finally with him, your perfect body warm and soft to the touch just as he knew you’d be, Kyojuro can’t help himself from telling you every little thing he’s thinking and feeling. He’s rambling on about how pretty you look when you’re underneath him, your body spread out for him and completely bare.

He’ll smile at you and kiss at every available inch of skin as his hands squeeze and knead at your sides, leaning back to admire the view of a flustered, bashful you underneath him all with a dreamy sigh and a small you’re so perfect, my flame, exactly as I imagined you’d be. And really, it would be sweet if it weren’t for the way he continues on to tell you exactly what he’d imagined, explicit details about how he'd fucked to his fist to the thought of you writhing below him, what pace he’d used, how he’d tightened up his grip to simulate how tight you’d grip him, even going so far as to tell you that this particular fantasy had him producing much more cum than normal when he eventually came.

It’s too much information and will leave you feeling disturbed and a bit scared, but Kyojuro doesn’t seem to notice – he’s too deeply enthralled with the pleasure you’re giving him, the words seeing to slip off his tongue without him even realizing it as he thrusts into you with an almost inhuman speed.

But of course, even as lovely as it is to detail all of the fantasies he’s had of you, what you’ll most often get with him is praise. He generally thinks that you’re enchanting, viewing you as something perfect and lovely and so, so very wonderful, but when he���s intimate with you this perception of you only intensifies.

Every small burst of pleasure you give him only solidifies his infatuation with you, and he can’t stop himself from telling you how beautiful you look on your knees for him, your pretty lips wrapped around his cock and your eyes prickling with tears because he’s too big for you to take down your throat. He’ll just smile, hand cupping the back of your hand and slowly easing you down his length, biting his lip at the sight and sighing out that you’re doing so well, you feel so – so good, yes love oh, suck just like that, it feels amazing when you do that.

He’ll have you perched on his lap, tits bouncing in his face while his hands clutch at your hips and move you up and down his cock, his eyes rolling to the back of his head and a moan of your name falling past his lips, small chants of yes yes yes and gasps of your name filling the air between you.

He’ll lick and suck at your clit with his head buried between your thighs, a lithe finger working in and out of you as he moans appreciatively against you, your taste on his tongue forcing him to pull back a moment to lick a long, flat stripe against your folds, his chin and lips visibly glistening as you tells you that you taste so delicious, I can’t get enough of you, give me more please my flame, I need more of you.

And when you’re gushing around his fingers a few minutes later, desperately grabbing at the pillow under your head and his hair, Kyojuro can only brokenly groan, his own orgasm not far behind yours as he thrusts his hips against the floor. You’re just so pretty and perfect and wonderful, and how can he not tell you?

And after he’s emptied himself inside of you, he’ll curl you into his arms and hold you, breathing into your ear and telling you how good you did, how you did so well and made him feel so good. Kisses are pressed against the crown of your head while he does this, his compliments sounding so genuine and reverent that you’ll be equal parts flattered and uncomfortable because god, he really means it when he says you’re the most beautiful woman in the world, doesn’t he?

Kyojuro of course loves to be praised in turn – any positive comment from you is met with eager and wide eyes, his ministrations and motions only increasing, his desperation to please you and make you feel good nearly palpable. Your moans of his name and cries of yes and right there and please making something smug and warm swell in his chest, his obsession only deepening because you just look so right when you’re falling apart on his cock.

He lives to please you, so please praise him – he’ll return the favor with so much passion and vigor that you’ll almost be embarrassed for him at how high and whiny and lewd the groan he lets out when he spills inside you is.

Almost, because he’ll follow it up with heavy breaths and a stuttered that – that was for you, because of you, because you feel so fucking good.

Oral Fixation

There’s something about the taste of you that he simply can’t get enough of. Even before he stole you away, Kyojuro was quick to snatch any small item of yours that could potentially taste like you.

He managed to snag the small vial of lip balm he’s seen you use – the one that his eyes always get stuck on, watching the way you pucker and pop your lips, the smacking noises obscene and provocative and sexy. You’d left it on the table after a lunch he’d invited you to, and Kyojuro – ever the gentleman – had pocketed it with the intention to return it to you later. Only, he didn’t – it stayed in his pocket until later that night when he’d fished it out, carefully opened it, and pressed the nearly empty balm against his own lips, closing his eyes and sighing because oh, if he licks his lips now he’ll taste you…

He’s got a cloth he keeps in his pocket that’s reserved specifically for you – when you’re eating with him, going on outgoings that are strictly platonic to you but are anything but to him, he’ll use the cloth and wipe off bits of food sitting on your lips, some stray sauce on the corner of your mouth. The cloth is kept in his pocket until later, when his cock is bright red and swollen and drooling precum for you, his lip caught between his teeth as he uses the cloth to tug and twist at his sensitive head, the friction of the cotton against his skin making him shiver and writhe and curl his toes all the while your name falls from his lips.

And once he’s done, he’s quick to bring the cloth up to his mouth, tongue lolling against the material as he tastes his cum and you mixed together, a flavor that gets the last sad little spurt of cum oozing from his swollen tip, the sensation making him groan lowly.

Really, he just likes the taste of you – and once your physical relationship begins, this penchant he has for tasting you only increases.

Now, he doesn’t have to be sneaky – no longer does he have to rely on placing your used utensils in his mouth in order to get even the slightest bit of you on his tongue.

Now he can just wrap an arm around your waist and press you close, mouth dipping down to slot his lips against yours, a moan muffled against your mouth because god, you’re so sweet and warm and he wants to drink in everything you can give him.

(Yes you’ve watched him kiss you and pull back, swallowing and licking his lips, telling you that your spit tastes delicious, my flame, please give me more before diving back in, kissing you and sucking on your tongue so hard you can practically feel his desperation.)

Now he can press kisses against your neck and jawline, tongue lathing up and down your collarbones while he licks and sucks, the dark bruising making his eyes light up and his breathing a bit uneven.

(Normally Kyojuro is strictly against harming you, but there’s something about hickeys that makes him sway ever so slightly on this rule. Perhaps it’s because he’s the cause of the dull pain, or maybe it’s because every time he’s working at your neck and shoulders you always let out these little whines that go straight to his cock, your fingers gripping tighter at his hair. Sometimes, when he’s particularly pent up and desperate for you, he swears he can even feel your cunt throbbing through the layers of clothing separating you, as if you’re just as needy and frantic for him as he is you. Ah, what a lovely thought.)

Now he can just gently press you against the wall, getting to his knees and throwing your leg over his shoulder while he pushing the pretty robe he’d bought you up to your hips, exposing the skimpy panties he'd bought for you as a present.

(They’re red, of course, with pretty lace details around the edges and a little bow at the very top, almost as if you’re a present for him to open and play with. He’d bought them for you before he’d stolen you away, gifted them to you with a bright smile and not an ounce of shame, and had insisted you wear them despite your discomfort after noticing an odd stain on  them – one that left a dark spot that Kyojuro refused to explain, only laughing and pressing a kiss to your cheek when asked.)

He’ll lick over your clothed cunt, humming against you and chuckling when you squirm at the vibrations. He’s suckling at your clit over the cloth, those eyes of his staring up at you from between your legs, the taste of you strong and making his mind spin even before he’s actually touching you.

But soon, Kyojuro can’t settle for just your phantom taste – he needs more, needs you, and so he’s suddenly standing up, picking you up with no effort and settling you down onto the bed, immediately laying between your legs. He’s spreading your thighs and licking his lips, rolling your panties down and off your legs before absolutely devouring you – he’s licking and sucking loudly enough to make lewd, wet suction noises fill the room.

There’s wet schluck-schluck noises ringing in your ears as he pushes a finger inside, all the way down to his second knuckle and curling them, the pads of his fingers brushing against the spot that gets you moaning and your hips bucking up to meet his thrusts. All the while he’s playing with your clit, tongue tracing shapes and spelling his name, humming and moaning and sucking at you like a man starved. His stamina is high, and he’s keeping up the pace until you’re clutching at his hair and moaning his name like a prayer, the pleasure making you writhe and gasp and gush all over his fingers and chin.

But once Kyojuro gets a taste of you, he’s not simply satisfied with just one orgasm – he needs more, to feel you clenching down on his fingers and your clit throbbing as he fucks you through the high.

He’ll simply laugh at your whines of too sensitive, I can’t Kyo please, keeping his steady pace and pressing a kiss against your clit that makes your hips jerk.

You can do it, he’ll tell you, slick and your cum smeared all across his lips, chin and cheeks. You can give me another one, let me make you feel good, my flame.

And even while he’s fucking you his fixation doesn’t decrease – you feel like heaven around his cock, sure, with your warm, soft walls clenching down on him and your slick coating his thighs, but that doesn’t stop his fingers from snaking up and pressing against your lips.

He'll push them inside two at a time, hot breaths against your ear telling you to suck, ngh suck for me, his hips snapping into you with more fervor as he feels your lips close around him, throat tightening and your little gagging noises as he thrusts his fingers in and out.

You’re just so beautiful, and although his fixation mostly manifests as him using his mouth on you, he certainly won’t deny you if you were to flip the script. You get on your knees for him, licking your lips and pawing at his cock over his pants?

The pants are off faster than you can blink, his hand already at the back of your head and guiding you down his length, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he lets out a low groan of yes, o-oh, you’re so warm, I’ve been thinking of this all day-!

He won’t deny you when you press kisses against his exposed chest, your tongue tracing around his sensitive nipple and feeling the skin pebble, even grazing your teeth against the sensitive skin just to hear his breath hitch and the audible gulp that follows.

He just thinks the ultimate form of intimacy is to taste each other, and Kyojuro is always eager to get closer to you, and to prove just how much he loves you – and, of course, just how depraved you make him.  

Breeding

Kyojuro will get you pregnant. It’s not even a matter of discussion as far as he’s concerned – yes, it’s a sexual fantasy for him to stuff you so full of his cum that you’re literally leaking it, but it’s more than that. He genuinely wants to build a family with you, to have you as his sweet little housewife that he dotes on and provides for and cares for, and to complete the fantasy he needs a few children running around.

He gets this dopey grin and blushing cheeks when he imagines you with a toddler clutching at your leg and a baby nursing at your breast, something inside his chest swelling with pride and happiness. And so, every time he fucks you he will be finishing inside, stuffing you as full as he physically can.

The image of you pregnant gets his breathing shallow; something about seeing you round, your breasts swollen and nipples so sensitive you sharply gasp when he so much as brushes against them making him shift his pants, his skin feeling hot and clammy. He likes the idea of knocking you up so that you’re completely, utterly dependent on him for every little thing – you’ll be so sweet and lovely and incapable, allowing him to attend to your every need. You’ll need him to walk any significant distance, to reach things on high shelves, to help you get up and out of chairs, to help with anything, really, and Kyojuro is more than happy to aid you in your time of need.

But even outside of actually getting you pregnant, the kink also satisfies some of his more shameful needs, some of his more masculine and carnal needs. After all, breeding you means coming inside you, filling you to the brim with his cum, something only he can provide you.

There’s just something about the idea of leaving you full with something so utterly him that gets him hot under the collar, his fingers twitching eagerly because just the thought makes him desperate to get his hands on you. He's not too terribly possessive, all things considered, but something about the idea of his cum settling inside you just feels right in a way he can’t describe, almost as if you were made to take it. As if you were made to take him, really, if the way your perfect little pussy sucks him in so well is any indication.

Besides, every time he finishes inside he’ll pull back and just stare, watching with bright eyes at the way his cum slowly dribbles out of you, white staining against the curve of your ass, his fingers coming up to scoop up the leaking bits and stuff them back inside you.

(And he will finish inside every time he fucks you, and even when your fist is wrapped around his girth or your lips are pressed against his base, tip making you gag at how deep he is in your throat. He’ll warn you with a near-yell of ‘m close before pushing you down and spreading your legs so quickly that it knocks the breath out of you, nestling his tip just inside you and coming, the sheer volume and force of the spurts making you squirm because you can feel it.)

There’s lots of talk about how you mustn’t waste anything he gives you, how you must keep every last drop inside you, his voice strained and breathy as he groans that into your ear, a thrust punctuating each word and making you clutch onto him for dear life because he’s fucking you meanly, every clap of his hips against yours making you physically scoot up until you reach the edge of the bed.

There’s something about the idea of stuffing you full of his cum that makes Kyojuro near feral, his hips seeming to have a mind of their own as they snap and pound against you, his cock pushing deeper and deeper and deeper, tip nestling further inside you with every thrust.

While he’s fucking you, the only thing running through his mind (aside from the constant stream of compliments towards you and the indescribable feeling of how fucking warm you are) is a mantra of needing to get deeper, to go as far inside you as he can, to press right up against your womb so that when his abs flex and his pace stutters, a shallow gasp and low groan rolling past his lips, his cum can shoot directly where it needs to go. It can spurt and splatter and flood your cute little pussy, each twitch of his cock giving you more and more and more, until it’s literally leaking out of you, even while he’s still stuffed inside you.

And Kyojuro, ever the talkative lover, is more than happy to narrate the process – his orgasms always follow a rather wanton groan of your name, his voice strained and uneven as he tells you to take it, o-oh take it take it take it, take every fucking drop ngh yes yes yes!

He’ll press down on your stomach as he finishes, the sensation making you impossibly tighter, the motion forcing his cum to shoot even deeper into you, his eyes wide in wonder and lust as if he can see the way his cock is twitching and throbbing, pushing out everything it can give you.

His voice nearly awed as he asks if you feel that, my love? I’m breeding this lovely pussy, does it feel good? It’s feels likes heaven for me, and soon you’ll be rounded and glowing and carrying my child.

He’ll pause to press a kiss against your nipple, tongue flicking out to tease the sensitive skin, before cupping it with his hand and squeezing, his own voice turning a bit darker as he tells you that soon your breasts will be so swollen and heavy, you’ll be feeding our child, nursing our baby…

He sucks at your nipple, hard. I’m sure you’ll taste divine – you’ll give me a taste too, I’m sure.

He’ll run his hand along your stomach, sucking in a sharp breath and telling you that you’ll be full soon, that you’ll be swollen and big and his, your body proving to him exactly who you belong to, exactly who kisses you and fucks you and gives you what your body is made for.

He just really, really wants a family with you, so don’t be surprised when he forces you to lay by his side for hours after sex, his cock keeping you stuffed full, not allowing a single drop of cum to leak out, his hand pressed firmly against your stomach as he rambles on and on about baby names and how he’ll be there for the entire birth, how he hopes the baby has his hair and your personality, how he’ll protect the both of you from demons until his dying breath.

It would be sweet, really, if he wasn’t so insistent, if he didn’t have twenty names already picked out for you to choose from, if he wasn’t telling you that according to Shinobu the part of your cycle you’re currently in is your highest window of fertility, if he wasn’t clutching onto you and saying when you’re pregnant instead of if.

And when his cock slowly hardens once more inside of you, you’ll feel the palpable change in the air as he kisses your neck again, his hips slowly starting to move as he tells you that he has to make sure it took, I have to make sure you’re carrying my child… Open your legs for me, my flame, let me give you more of me.

And when he comes with a gasp of your name a few minutes later, even more cum flooding you and sending some dripping down over his cock and onto his pelvis, Kyojuro can only lick his lips, the sight of you with a rounded belly and swollen breasts making him near feral.

OTHER NOTABLE KINKS INCLUDE:

Marking

While Kyojuro isn’t the most possessive, there’s something about the idea of physically marking you as his that gets his blood rushing, heat blooming on his cheeks, a wide grin splitting across his face.

Just the thought get him eagerly pulling you closer, nudging his nose against your neck, sighing heavily and letting you feel the way his pants slowly grow tighter, his breathing growing heavier as he groans your name.

There’s just something about the idea of claiming you as his own that makes some primal, animalistic part of him light up, so be prepared to be absolutely covered in marks as your sexual relationship progresses.

Hickeys will cover nearly all of your skin, leaving no area untouched by his lips and teeth. He’ll leave love marks (as he calls them) in the shape of a heart situated on the plane of your chest, nestled right up your breasts. As he’s fucking you he’ll kiss over the area again, his hips never slowing their pace as he starts whispering your name under his breath, nearly chanting it with every clap his balls against the curve of your ass.

A ‘K’ and an ‘R’ are placed on your inner thighs, so that when he sits beside you he can reach over and grip the area, sending you a blinding grin and telling you that even under all the layers of clothing he can feel your love. Once the marks fade he’ll spend hours between your legs again, remaking the hickies so there’s a letter per leg, so that every time he spreads them, excitement bubbling in his chest, he’ll see his letters, a mark of ownership, a reminder that you’re his and his alone, that your pretty skin and plush thighs and that lovely little pussy of yours is completely and utterly his.

It’s just fucking hot to Kyojuro, so when he pins you down, your body nude and bared for his eyes, know that he’ll kiss you, lips working eagerly against your own, tongue coaxing yours in an effort to get you to engage, groans and grunts tumbling into your mouth as his hands wander down to grope at your breasts, squeezing your side, toying with the pubic hair settled on your navel.

He’ll kiss you, then let his lips travel down, dipping to your neck to suck harshly against the skin, then down to your collarbone to lick and suckle, then to your nipples to bruise the area beside your areolas, then down your stomach and to your thighs, mumbling praises and sweet words of affirmation as he goes.

You’ll wince and avoid looking at yourself in mirrors after he’s through with you, but just know that Kyojuro does it all out of love.

He doesn’t enjoy hurting you, but the pleasure and pride that swells in his chest when he sees you with his markings outweighs his small worries at your bruising.

Just let it happen, really, because he’ll be getting his way, one way or the other, and while eventually the dull throb and sting as he works section after section will grow slightly painful, at least his fingers are talented – after all, you can handle the hickies when he’s making you gasp his name, cream on his fingers and beg for more, more, more, right?

Choking

While Kyojuro is generally the more dominant partner in bed (regardless of your personal tastes – he likes to feel like your provider, so even if you want to peg him until he’s a sobbing, begging mess, little mewls of your name and p-please, need to come so bad slipping past his lips, you’ll likely be the one trapped below him), there’s a certain allure to letting you take charge for a night every few weeks, letting you take the reigns for a few minutes.

There’s something oddly sexy about watching the way the power slowly goes to your head, how your eyes grow darker, your actions more passionate as you bounce up and down on top of him, your hands planted against his chest, pinching at his nipples, shoving your tongue down his throat all while he groans and enjoys the view.

He just likes to see the way you use him, his body simply a toy for you to get off on. It’s the ultimate form of caring for you – and seeing the way you’re so unabashedly pleasuring yourself gets his blood pumping so hard he can hear it in his ears, the sight of you so raw and natural and not at all the shy little thing you were when he first spread your legs all those months ago making him lick his lips in anticipation.

And yet, there’s a certain habit you’ve developed in these moments that Kyojuro absolutely cannot get enough of – that is, when your soft fingers wrap around his throat, your skin against his, pressing just hard enough to disrupt the blood flow to his brain, the feeling dizzying and disorienting and wonderful.

His eyes literally roll to the back of his head when you do this, your hips snapping and scooping above him as you tell him to hold it in, be a good boy, don’t come yet.

He’s groaning and wildly bucking his hips, face turning slightly red as you lean down to kiss him, your lips harsh and demanding, the kiss rough and forceful.

It’s heaven, Kyojuro thinks, as you clench around him, your fingers following suit, his cock twitching inside of you, his hands coming up to grope and knead at your ass as he bounces you harder and harder, the desire to come inside you suddenly washing over him.

It’s something he finds himself craving as time goes on, and so while he’ll more often prefer to be the one on top, in charge, calling the shots, be prepared for the nights where he wants to let you do all the work.

But really, once you’re straddling him, sinking down onto his drooling, leaking tip and grinding, your hand wrapped around his throat, he’ll often do most of the ‘work’ – desperate, sad little humps up into you with his heels planted against the futon mat that’ll leave you gasping and going limp, his cock reaching parts of you unexplored by your own fingers.

And when you lean down over him, your pretty face just inches away from his own flushed you’re your fingers wrapped around his neck, Kyojuro will eagerly obey when you tell him to open wide, his cock throbbing inside you as your spit lands against his tongue, your taste and the lewd sight of you spitting in his mouth making his orgasm hurtle towards him. As soon as he eagerly swallows his eyes are going wide, his words rushed and slurred and strained as he tells you that it’s so fucking good, oh here it comes, shit it’s coming, it – it’s-!

He just really, really likes the way it feels to have your pretty fingers around such a vulnerable area, so get used to it – because Kyojuro is a passionate man, and as his lover, you must be just as passionate, too. 

BIGGEST FANTASY:

As a general rule, Kyojuro is vocal about every sexual desire he has with you. He doesn’t believe in keeping secrets, especially in the context of sex where you could both be benefitting.

He wants to share every explicit, lewd fantasy he has of you simply because he thinks you might enjoy it – you might have even been dreaming of doing the same thing, you were just too shy to tell him.

(He knows how you are – how you’re so very shy, always seeming to skirt away from him when he nears you, your wide-eyed looks you send him when he’s talking to you, how your hands are clammy and you’re shaking ever so slightly when he pulls you in for a kiss with far too much tongue.)

And so, Kyojuro is open and honest; painfully so, really. He wakes up one morning with you in his arms, your eyes already open as he leans in and kisses the shell of your ear, sighing and pressing his navel against your ass, telling you in that husky morning voice of his that he’d dreamed about tasting you until you cry, my flame, doesn’t that sound nice?

(And of course, you’ll not be leaving that bed for hours after the fantasy is spoken out into the air – Kyojuro is nothing if not determined, and his tongue seems to never tire.) After returning home from a mission, he’s announcing to you that he’d passed by a risqué local shop and saw a drawing of a man and a woman where the woman was on top and oh, why didn’t you tell him that women sometimes enjoyed being the more dominant partner?

You’ll be left to flounder, unsure of how to respond, but it’s too late because Kyojuro is already laying down on his back, his pants pulled down to his knees and his expression eager, the smile across his lips blinding as he tells you to come here, my love, the woman in the drawing looked to be enjoying herself, and I want to see that on you as well!

However, because he has no sexual experience before you, he doesn’t harbor any particularly intense fantasies for you. He’s excited and aroused by the simple, straight-forward sex that he knows produces a child – missionary, mostly, or positions that involve spreading your legs and maintaining eye contact while he slides in, a hand cupping your cheek while he groans and tells you in a strained voice that you’re so beautiful, you feel so – ngh, so good!

And so, after a one-off chat with Tengen about wifely matters (he’s announced to the other Hashira that he has a wife, though none of them have met you or know that you aren’t actually his partner, just the woman he considers to be his wife), Kyojuro asks with complete sincerity if his friend has any advice in the bedroom.

Tengen had just laughed and clapped Kyojuro’s back, telling him that sex should be flashy, so don’t do the same things over and over! Mix things up – women love variety, so try some new positions, or a different method of pleasuring her!

When asked what other positions to try, Tengen had grinned, his eyes widening a bit as he said bend her over, she’ll feel you deeper and the view will drive you crazy.

And so, that night after coming home to you, he’d gulped, his eyes narrowing in on your ass, his voice a bit gruff as he told you to come with me, my love, I want to try something new.

“Are you comfortable?” Kyojuro asks, though he sounds distracted.

Swallowing, you nod, embarrassment clear on your face. This position was beyond humiliating – Kyojuro hadn’t explained much when he approached you earlier in the evening, simply looking at you with those unblinking eyes and telling you to get undressed because he had something new he wanted to try out.

And now, here you are, on your hands and knees on your shared bed, clothing neatly folded in a corner of the room. It’s cold, and the air is making goosebumps prickle along your skin and your nipples stiff.

If Kyojuro notices you shiver, he doesn’t say anything – instead, you hear him gulp, the sound suddenly much closer.

“You’re very beautiful…” He whispers, so quiet and unlike him that it makes you glance back over your shoulder. The sight you’re met with makes your embarrassment deepen, a mixture of shame and bashfulness seeping into your every bone.

He’s standing behind you, those wide eyes of his fixated on your exposed cunt, with his cock in hand. Thick fingers wrap around his base, visibly squeezing, his balls periodically twitching even without being touched. He looks entranced – awed, almost, presumably by the sight of your ass presented on display like this.

“Kyojuro…” You start, anxious to just get started so he’ll stop staring at you like you’re something holy and sacred. Wiggling your hips, you hope he’ll get the message.

Instead, you hear a muffled groan and suddenly feel air brushing against your sensitive folds, the sensation making your arms feel a bit weak. You feel a sudden slimy warmth, and wet noises ring in your ears as Kyojuro presses his tongue against you, dipping in briefly to taste and rub at anything he can reach. Heavy breaths are muffled against your cunt, but the insistent press of his chin against your clit makes it difficult to focus.

“Kyo – oh, Kyo please need you to fuck me, don’t tease me.” Your whines make him pause for a moment, before he slowly pulls back, pressing a single long kiss against your folds that has you biting your lip.

“Very well, you’ll have to tell me how it feels, love. Tell me everything you’re feeling.” He asks, gripping his base again and rubbing the tip through your folds, collecting your slick at the tip. His breathing is still loud, the way he’s sucking in air through clenched teeth making it obvious just how strongly the sight of you bent over and exposed like this is affecting him.

You look gorgeous – he’s intimately familiar with what’s between your legs, of course, but this view feels so lewd. He can see your pretty hole clenching every few moments, tufts of hair decorating the pretty sight, and he can even see your other hole, the one you always tell him not to touch with a squeak and a slap of his hand.

Soon he’s swallowing hard and pressing himself inside, the breath sucked out of his lungs because somehow you feel tighter like this, your cunt seeming to suck him in so tightly that it almost hurts, the sensation making his knees buckle slightly.

And you’re certainly not helping, either – as you’d promised him you’re gasping, telling him in an airy voice, “It’s so big – you’re so big, Kyo, fuck you’ve never felt so big, I can’t – you have to wait a second, please, ‘s too much-!”

And he does, with bared teeth and hands that find purchase at your ass, just as Tengen had told him to do. He’s groping at the soft flesh, grabbing handfuls and pulling them apart to get a full view. A whine slips out of him at the lewd sight of his cock buried to the hilt inside of you, the angle letting him see just how you stretch to accommodate him, even seeing the edges of his balls pressed against your thighs. It’s just too much, and as soon as your shaky ‘okay’ registers, Kyojuro’s immediately thrusting.

And the sight of him moving is even more erotic – pulling out of you and seeing the ring of white coating his base makes him lean more of his weight against you, trying to get more leverage as he thrusts back in so that he can fuck you harder, wanting to get impossibly deeper to feel more and more of you. He’s entranced, watching with wide eyes the way he appears and disappears inside of you again and again, almost lost in a trance.

Your noises have him grunting, the desperate whines and rhythmic gasps every time he sinks back into you making his orgasm come creeping up much too quickly. He’s just too overwhelmed, your pretty moans and cries of his name making his head spin.

Soon he’s bringing a leg up and pressing his foot flat against the ground, gaining better leverage and an angle that makes you scream, your cunt squeezing down on him so tightly that he struggles to pull back to just his tip. He’s seen animals do this in the wild – he’s fucking you like an animal would, mounting you and grasping at your waist to pull you back against him harder, anything and everything to get him deeper inside, to reach a part of you that he’s sure no man or even you have touched.

You’re just too damn pretty, and as he gasps your name and clutches onto you tightly enough to leave bruises while ropes of runny cum fill you, Kyojuro decides that he needs to try out all the other positions Tengen had told him about – perhaps he’ll try something called 69 with you tomorrow.

Maybe that’ll get you to scream his name like this ‘Doggy’ has.

#yandere kny #yandere demon slayer #yandere rengoku #kny smut #_lee's profiles #_kny #_kyojuro rengoku #rengoku x reader #rengoku smut

[yumeka-sxf]

Spy x Family CODE: White - FULL MOVIE SUMMARY [SPOILERS]

Now that I've finally read through the entire novelization of CODE: White, I'm ready to share a full summary of everything that happens - basically spoil the whole movie for those interested 😅

But before I get to the summary, a few notes:

I didn't translate every line from the novelization as that would have taken way too long. I go into more detail for scenes I was particularly interested in (like Twiyor scenes), or scenes that were easy to translate. But I still made sure to mention everything that's important to the story. If I gloss over some parts more than others, it's either because they were difficult to translate, or I didn't think they were that important. But even so, the "summary" still ended up being way longer than I anticipated!

I have not seen the movie myself yet, so everything in the summary below is based on the novelization only (of which there were two versions released, with slight differences between them). Obviously the novelization is an accurate adaptation, but there is a chance that a few things are different between the novelization and the actual movie, and/or the novelization may have left out some dialogue or minor scenes.

And lastly, it goes without saying but BEWARE OF MAJOR SPOILERS BELOW! Not only that, but please be considerate of where you share these spoilers. Remember to properly tag this post if you reblog it and think twice before you share any of this information on other social media. Most people don't want to be spoiled to this degree!

Again MAJOR SPOILERS BELOW!

The movie starts with an introduction to the characters – we see Twilight carrying out a mission where he has to disguise himself as someone's wife. Meanwhile, Yor is doing an assassination mission. They both come home at the same time and are greeted by Anya. Bond has a vision of Anya and Loid getting sick from Yor's cooking, so Anya suggests that Loid cook instead.

At Eden, Henderson tells the students about the cooking contest and how the principal will be the judge. Loid is on the roof, reading Henderson's lips. A falcon flies overhead and drops him a note with an F cipher. He goes to meet with Sylvia at one of the WISE hideouts. She informs him that she has another big mission for him, but when he objects that he couldn't take on something so big in the midst of Operation Strix, she hands him a photo of a man and child. She explains that the man is Major Depple of the Army Intelligence Department who has a lot of important people backing him, and since they hadn't made enough progress with Operation Strix, the higher-ups decided to pass it onto him.

As Loid leaves, he bumps into Fiona. Her hat gets blown away with the wind and he reaches to catch it, just as Yor and her coworkers are across the street. From where Yor sees them, it looks like Loid is kissing "the mysterious woman." Loid and Fiona have a fake conversation – he compliments her hat, she says it was made overseas, etc – while they're actually doing their secret "spy talk" (like they did when she first visited him at home). He tells her what's happening with Operation Strix, and she tells him that she had tried to warn him that it shouldn't have been left up to ordinary citizens who don't know anything, and that she should take on the wife role. Meanwhile, Camilla and co. tell Yor about the three signs of cheating: one, an increase in travelling; two, a change in clothing taste (to match the taste of his new lover); and three, suddenly giving gifts (because he feels guilty).

Later that evening, Yor is still feeling anxious about Loid's possible "lover." When Anya gets home, she tells them about the cooking competition. Loid recalls from his data that the principal's favorite is the melemele pastry. If Anya could get a stella from the competition, that could help get him back into Operation Strix. He says that he read in the school newspaper that the melemele in Frejis is supposedly the best, so they should go there and try it for themselves via a family vacation over the weekend. Yor thinks back to the "increase in travelling" sign of cheating that Camilla told her about. Loid tells her that only families are allowed at the Frejis restaurant they're headed to, so she decides to go, though she's still conflicted about whether this is actually a sign of cheating or not.

They have some family time on the train to Frejis, though Loid still makes Anya study. They play cards and get food (Anya has a corn dog, Yor has a sandwich, Loid has a hamburger). After coming back from the bathroom, Anya notices a key by one of the sinks. Bond is with her, and through him she sees a vision of the future – in the vision, she goes to car 8 and opens a trunk with the key while overhearing two men mention that it's a key to a treasure of the Republic.

Back in the train car, Loid brings up Anya's terrible handwriting while Yor mentions that they had practiced handwriting the other day. Loid says that Yor's motherly side is really coming out, which causes Yor to get flustered and makes her think that it's not her skills as a mother he could be dissatisfied with but perhaps her skills as a wife. She gets even more flustered when she notices a couple across the way kissing and starts nervously moving her lips, to which Loid asks if something's wrong. She stammers that her lipstick didn't warm up and is itchy, then says she's going to look for Anya since she's taking a long time.

Meanwhile, Anya and Bond find the luggage compartment and locate the trunk from Bond's vision. When Anya goes to grab it, Bond tries to stop her. At first she thinks that she shouldn't just do whatever she wants with other people's stuff, but then she remembers that the men in the vision said it was a treasure of the Republic, a treasure that could possibly help achieve world peace. She opens the trunk and is disappointed to find just a chocolate in it. But when she hears the two men, Domitri and Luca, open the door, she gets startled and accidently knocks the chocolate out of the trunk. It bounces off of Bond's nose, and when she tries to grab it, it falls into her mouth. She hides when Luca and Domitri come in to look for the trunk.

They describe the ship sticker on it, and when they find that it's been opened and the chocolate stolen, they say they're going to kill whoever took it so the secret won't get out. When Anya accidently makes a noise, the men take notice. Domitri takes a flower out of his pocket and points it towards the dim light in the car, saying that his "flower fortune telling" will tell him who's hiding. They then notice Anya escaping into car 7 and give chase. They lock her in car 6, but when she starts screaming for Papa and Mama, Yor breaks open the locked door. She asks Anya who the two men are and Anya says that they're chocolate thieves who were being mean to her. Yor beats them up (after telling Anya to cover her eyes) just as the train arrives at Frejis station (Anya seems to feel bad that she sicced Yor on them when she was the actual chocolate thief). When they get off the train, Loid says that they should start heading to their destination (as Yor starts building a snowman). After they get their luggage and leave, Luca and Domitri emerge from the car they were in and say they need to contact the colonel.

The shop that has the melemele is called "Restaurant Rubble and Bonds." Since pets aren't allowed in the restaurant, they leave Bond outside when they go inside to eat. After ordering food along with the melemele, the waitress tells them that they're getting the last melemele. Bond watches them from the window, but then a waitress comes over and feeds him the special pet plate, which he happily eats. As the Forgers are eating, Loid tells Anya that she shouldn't eat with her hands, and that using a knife and fork are proper manners. Yor watches and notices the turtleneck sweater Loid is wearing, which makes her realize it's something that he never wears. She then thinks of Camilla's second sign of cheating, a change in clothing taste. The chef comes over and tells them how the war in Frejis was mostly fought in the sky, and the aircraft displayed at the front of the station belonged to a two-man team famous for shooting down planes during the war.

There's a brief scene where Yuri overhears his coworkers at the SSS talking about Frejis, and he of course wants to go since he knows Yor is there now. But the boss won't let him, so he makes a bit of a scene.

Back at the restaurant, the chef continues to talk about the war and how he lost everything at that time. His decision behind making a restaurant catering to families was so people could experience the homemade food that he remembered his mom used to make. Loid can't help but relate the chef's backstory to his own. The melemele is finally ready and brought to the table.

Just as Anya is about to dig in, Colonel Snidel and some other soldiers enter the restaurant. The waitress and chef try to tell them that only families are allowed, but Snidel says that the military have authority in this area, even when it comes to food, and could close down the restaurant if they wanted to. They order the melemele, and when they're told that there isn't any left, one of the soldiers takes the melemele from Anya. Loid politely tells the soldiers that his daughter was really looking forward to eating it and if they could possibly order a different dessert. Snidel asks if they're tourists that came here to eat the melemele. Loid replies that they travel around trying delicious food. Snidel challenges Loid to a competition – if Loid wins, he'll give them back the melemele. The competition involves trying the three cakes that were placed on the table and correctly naming every type of sugar in them. Even though Loid correctly names them, Snidel also mentions the exact number of grams, making his answers the most accurate. Everyone's bummed that Loid lost, but he says that they could try coming back again. However, the chef tells them that they won't have more until Monday, which is when the Forgers have to be back in Berlint for the cooking competition. Yor asks the chef that if they provide their own ingredients, would he make it for them, and he agrees.

The Forgers go to the Frejis marketplace to get the ingredients from the list that the chef provided. Having already memorized the list, Loid moves at super speed to every shop and quickly finds most of the ingredients. When he goes looking for the orange syrup, a man from a cosmetic shop asks if he'll buy one of the many lipsticks there for his wife. He picks one out, mentioning how back on the train Yor had said that her lipstick wasn't working out and if this one is a nice color. She's embarrassed at first, but then agrees that it's a nice color and accepts…but then she's reminded of Camilla's last sign of cheating: suddenly giving a gift (meanwhile Loid is just thinking how putting on the happy couple appearance is part of the mission). With all three signs of cheating having taken place, Yor says that she's going to the bathroom and dejectedly walks away. Loid wonders if she's just tired from the trip and if she'll be okay. Anya then calls Loid over to a shooting game booth that has the orange syrup as one of the prizes. After attempting the game and failing, Anya reads the booth owner's mind and realizes it's rigged. Loid gets suspicious as well and is able to masterfully shoot down the orange syrup while also exposing the owner's scam.

Loid is ready to look for the last ingredient, but then Anya runs off to ride the mini train. Yor rejoins them, having put on the lipstick while she was in the bathroom. Loid says it suits her and asks if she'd like to get a drink somewhere. They go to a café booth where Loid orders coffee. But Yor, thinking how she needs to confirm the whole cheating thing with Loid and can't open up without the help of alcohol, orders several cups of heated wine. She finally gets drunk enough to ask Loid if he has a lover.

From the train, Anya looks over to see Yor grab Loid's scarf and pull him to the ground. Anya freaks out about "Papa and Mama flirting." They're both on the ground now, with Yor hovering over Loid before she finally passes out. She wakes up on a bench, where Loid asks if she's okay. She apologizes for what she did, but thinks that Loid will definitely want a divorce after what happened. When Anya reads her mind, she thinks of what Becky told her about divorces and how they cause families to fall apart. She then hears the ferris wheel attendant calling for people to ride, saying that it'll be a happy, "flirty" experience. Anya tells Loid and Yor that she wants to ride the ferris wheel, but then ushers them onto the gondola without joining them, much to their surprise. She tells them to get "flirty," to Loid's dismay. Yor tells Bond to look after Anya.

Yor realizes that she must look really bleak right now and it's making Anya worry. Loid asks if she's okay and she again apologizes for her behavior earlier. Loid replies that she's been acting weird for a while, causing Yor to finally admit that she saw him with his "lover"…someone with a large hat. Tears start welling in her eyes, so she covers her face with her hands to hide them. Realizing that the person she's referring to was Fiona, Loid explains that she wasn't a lover, just someone who needed directions to the art museum. Feeling embarrassed about her mistake, Yor looks away from Loid and out the window. She sees Anya and Bond below, the former waving happily at her. Yor waves back before mentioning if Loid could want a divorce, to which he light-heartily replies "no way." Yor says that she's lacking in a lot of ways, not just as a mother but as Loid's wife. Loid then takes her hands in his, looks straight into her eyes and reminds her of the promise he made via their marriage proposal.

He says the marriage vows again before stating that he has no intention of breaking his promise. As Loid gets closer to her, Yor's face reddens and her heart races until she finally breaks – she smacks Loid on the cheek, sending him flying out of the gondola (which had reached the ground). But he adjusts himself in midair and lands gracefully on his feet. Yor grabs their belongings from the gondola and hurries out. Upon seeing Loid's swollen cheek, Anya panics that Papa and Mama were fighting and the Forger family is over. Loid and Yor object to this, with Loid saying that they weren't fighting. Anya then says that they were flirting, but they object to that as well, faces red with embarrassment. Anya just grins at them.

The clock tower bell chimes, signaling 5 o' clock. When Loid muses that it got so late already, Yor apologizes that it was due to her passing out from drinking too much. Loid asks if she and Anya will go back to the hotel while he gets the remaining ingredient, cherry liquor. He thinks to himself how it's something rare that would not likely be sold at a store, so he'd have to get it through illegal means, which means that Yor and Anya can't accompany him.

Snidel gets out of his military vehicle in front of a flying battleship. He's greeted by several soldiers who tell him that route negotiations with the Arbo Republic have ended and adjustments to Type F have been completed. Snidel suddenly shoots and kills one of the operations leaders, claiming he's a traitor who leaked military information to WISE. Luca and Domitri then arrive and inform him that the microfilm was eaten.

Meanwhile, Sylvia meets with a bunch of WISE agents at their Berlint hideout. She tells them that they lost contact with their Frejis agent, suspecting that Snidel has taken action. She says that if the microfilm reaches the Arbo Republic, it could lead to an all-out war between the East and West. She doesn't think their agent had gotten the microfilm, but she knows Twilight is currently in Frejis, so he may be their only hope. She orders a couple of the male agents to meet with Twilight at Frejis and get the microfilm. However, Fiona interrupts and requests that Sylvia leave the mission to her instead. Sylvia objects, but Fiona is already leaving the room and on her way, thinking over and over to herself "A mission with senpai, a mission with senpai, a mission with senpai…"

Back at Frejis, Loid looks everywhere for the cherry liquor – he sneaks into a moonshine factory and even the wine cellar of a wealthy man, but still can't find it. He calls Franky at his tabacco shop in Berlint, inadvertently interrupting Franky's flirting with a pretty girl. He asks Franky if he can get the cherry liquor and that he needs it by tomorrow morning. Franky says he'll try but it would take him half a day to even get to Frejis, but Loid had already hung up.

At the hotel, Yor unpacks while Anya admires the hotel amenities ("Hotel TV!" "Hotel toilet!" "Hotel bed!") She then takes her toys out of her bag – among them are crayons, a sketchbook, a rubber duckie, and a toy gun. She pretends to shoot Bond with the gun, then points the gun at Yor and asks if she's the "boss." At first Yor is uneasy about partaking in Anya's game, but then she gives in and pretends to be the boss who wants the treasure. This makes Anya even more fired up and she says "Let's battle, polite lady boss!" The three of them continue playing.

Loid returns to the hotel and finds Anya's drawings of the ferris wheel and shooting game booth on the table. Anya's sleeping on the sofa while Yor puts a blanket over her. Loid says that he's going out again because he found the liquor at a neighboring town. Since it's a bit far, he's taking a car that he's borrowing from the hotel. Anya wakes up and calls Loid a liar since he said he would be back soon but came back so late. He apologizes, but then she reads his mind as he thinks about the fact that if Anya doesn't get a stella soon, Operation Strix and their family will be over. Anya says she wants to come along with Loid, but when he turns her down, she sadly goes back to the bedroom with Bond. When Loid starts to leave, asking Yor to take care of Anya, Yor asks him how many seats there are in the car he borrowed. He answers five. She then asks if they can all go together, since it's a family trip.

In the bedroom, Anya hugs Bond while thinking about the sad state of the family. Bond suddenly has a vison of the cherry liquor behind the cash register of a store at the plaza. At first Anya wants to tell Loid about it, but then she thinks that her secret would be revealed if she did (Loid would say "How did you know that? You can read minds? And Bond can see the future?") After realizing she can't tell him about it, she looks towards the window...

Meanwhile, Yor tells Loid how happy it made Yuri to be with her all day for special occasions like birthdays and family outings, and that it's the same with Anya. Loid thinks back to how happy Anya was when they were doing things together on the trip, such as playing trump, playing in the snow, and eating at the restaurant. He picks up the toy gun on the table and thinks back to how grateful Anya was for being able to play "spy" at the old castle. As he returns the gun to the table, Yor tells him how Anya was looking forward to so many things on this family trip, like eating sweets and playing together. She says she understands Anya's feelings since she's made Yuri feel lonely before. She tells Loid that Anya was really looking forward to being with him and how lonely it is to be separated from your family. She asks again if they could all go together to get the liquor at the next town, even though it's passed Anya's bedtime. When he starts thinking of the possible harm of bringing Anya with him, he pushes those thoughts aside and agrees with Yor.

Suddenly, room service knocks at the door. When Yor says that she didn't order any, Loid looks through the peep hole and sees Fiona disguised as a maid. He then says that he forgot to order a large bathrobe and steps outside. In the hotel corridor, he asks Fiona why she's here. She repeats "room service" while actually saying "it's a mission" in spy talk. Loid says that she can talk normally since it's just the two of them, and asks if she could be quick since he's also on a mission. She starts blabbering internally about how she's alone with him – LOVE!

Back in the room, Yor hears a noise from the bedroom, and when she goes to look, the window is open and both Anya and Bond are gone. Meanwhile, Fiona explains the mission about the microfilm to Loid. When she mentions Colonel Snidel, Loid thinks back to his encounter with Snidel and the military back at the restaurant. Yor suddenly comes out of the room and tells Loid that Anya ran away through the window. She had left a note behind, but when Loid goes to read it, the handwriting is extremely messy – he can make out the word "sorry" (misspelled).

Anya and Bond arrive at the shop in the plaza from Bond's vision. She buys the bottle of liquor and happily walks with Bond back to the hotel, thinking that now the Forger family will be okay. At the same time, the military is looking for girls that match Anya's description, using a picture that Luca drew of her. Bond starts barking when he notices Luca and Domitri pull up in a car behind Anya. Anya and Bond try to run away, but Luca pulls Anya into the car. Bond bites Luca's arm but gets pushed away. As they drive off with Anya in the car, they run over a can in the road that hits Bond in the head. Bond howls sadly as he watches the car disappear. Back at the battleship, Snidel says that it will depart as soon as they get the microfilm.

Loid and Yor run through town calling for Anya. They find Bond collapsed on the side of the road. Loid asks if he's okay and if Anya was with him. Bond barks and tries to gesture about what happened, but Loid and Yor can't understand him. However, Loid notices something in Bond's mouth – Luca's armband that he had bitten off. Loid recognizes it and is in disbelief that Anya got caught up in the military.

Then Fiona, still disguised as the hotel maid, pulls up in a car nearby and calls to Loid saying that he dropped something. In "spy talk" however, she says that he should prioritize getting the microfilm over Operation Strix. Loid thinks for a minute, then says loudly (so Yor can hear) "Ma'am, I would like to ask a favor…"

Meanwhile, Anya is brought before Snidel. Upon seeing him, she shouts that he's the guy who ate her dessert. He says that more important than the melemele, she ate their chocolate. She then states that he's the boss of those thieves. Luca and Domitri reprimand her for not using polite speech in front of the colonel. Snidel asks if she's been to the toilet since. Anya reads his mind as he thinks about how they hid the microfilm in the chocolate, and it's better to wait until she poops it out before killing her. Anya then realizes that the chocolate she ate on the train had the "treasure" inside, and if she poops, she'll be killed. Anya then nervously says that she's so cute that poop has never come out of her body, but then admits that she's lying upon seeing Snidel's cold gaze. Snidel instructs Luca and Domitri to take Anya with them and inform him if she poops. Anya begins holding her butt and starts shaking in fear. Domitri asks if she has to go, but she says she's just cold. She knows she mustn't poop or she'll be killed, but the more she thinks about it, the more she has to go!

Back at the Frejis plaza in front of the station, Loid boards the old fighter plane that was parked there. He's able to operate the communication device and listen in on signals from Snidel's flying battleship. He manages to catch some of Luca and Domitri's conversation with Anya, including them saying that she's in this mess because she ate the microfilm. Upon realizing that Anya ate the microfilm, he breaks into a cold sweat, but quickly regains his composure as he gets off the plane and meets with Yor, who was waiting worriedly outside. He tells her that he thinks Anya is with the military, since he heard from the radio signals that they seem to have taken custody of a girl around five years old. Yor asks why Anya would be with the military. Loid knows that he didn't have any time to come up with an explanation, so he cuts the power cable on the plane and climbs back into the cockpit. As the propellers begin spinning, he asks Yor to stand back and tells her that he'll return soon. Yor thinks back to the two men who attacked Anya on the train and realizes that they might have been from the military, but she can't tell Loid about that or he'd know that she beat them up. She recalls what she said to Loid earlier: that they should all go together because it's a family trip. As the plane leaves, Yor jumps onto it and forces open the door at the bottom. Loid continues to pilot the plane into the Frejis sky, unaware that Yor is also on board.

Back at the WISE hideout, Sylvia thinks to herself that "the fate of the world depends on getting that microfilm…we're counting on you, Twilight."

Back at the battleship, Anya is trying hard to resist the urge to go to the bathroom. She moves her body back and forth to try and hold off the urge, which only makes Luca ask if she has to go. She says no and that she's just doing a dance she learned at school.

Meanwhile, Fiona infiltrates the Frejis air traffic control so she can communicate with Loid on the plane. She tells him the location of Snidel's battleship. Loid compliments her on being able to get the information so quickly, causing her to say that she's ready to be his lifelong partner anytime and asks again if he'd let her have the wife role for Operation Strix…but the communication line had already been cut.

Back at the battleship, Anya is still doing her "dance" to resist the urge to poop, but she's practically at her limit (Luca and Domitri had also prepared a duck-shaped potty for her). She's sweating, tearing up, and her stomach is rumbling. When she feels her consciousness wavering, a bright light suddenly fills her eyes. She finds herself standing in a beautiful meadow filled with colorful flowers and poop shaped clouds overhead. She hears a voice and looks up to see a divine-looking old man surrounded by light. He has a poop shaped crown and he's holding a staff with a poop shaped top. He tells her that he's the god of poop.

He says, "You've fought well, warrior Anya. You've tried your best to protect world peace but...enough is enough." He puts his hand on her shoulder. She can feel his compassion flowing through his palms. "Relax your butt and rest, warrior Anya. Let's go to the peaceful garden of the toilet!" Anya tries to fly through the sky like the poop god, but ends up falling into the ocean. However, she's saved by waves of toilet paper that lift her towards a temple lined with statues of the poop god. A toilet is enshrined in front of the statues. The poop god gives a shout, and the toilet paper carrying Anya turns into a giant duck potty. The poop god waves his staff and the duck speeds out of the water, heading towards the bathroom above the alter. The lid of the toilet opens with another shout from the poop god and the duck moves faster. Finally the duck bursts into a ball of light and Anya falls, laughing, into the shining toilet.

Back in reality, Anya finds herself on a bed in a room on the battleship. After hearing her mutter to herself about "what's the god of poop?" Luca excitedly asks if she's ready to poop and puts the duck potty on the bed. As soon as Anya looks at the duck, she comes to her sense and says, "no, I'm good." While Anya stays with Domitri, Luca reports to Snidel that Anya still hasn't pooped yet. Snidel tells him to cut open her stomach. Luca is taken aback by this and tries to protest, but after Snidel presses him, he reluctantly agrees to do it.

Meanwhile, Domitri is trying an exorcism ritual to get Anya to poop – he makes her lay on the bed with a banana, corn, and a pineapple along with coffee beans between them, all the while singing a song about "yellow three." When Luca returns, he asks Domitri what he's doing. Domitri replies that according to his coffee fortune telling, "yellow three" is lucky. Luca then tells him Snidel's orders and asks if Domitri would do it. Since neither of them want to, they decide via rock-paper-scissors, and Domitri wins. Anya reads Luca's mind about how he's going to cut open her stomach while Domitri holds her down. She starts shaking and thinks of Papa and Mama.

Meanwhile, Loid flies the plane close to the battleship and contacts them on the radio. He says that his plane is in a state of emergency due to a fuel system failure and would like to request an emergency landing on the battleship. When one of the soldiers tells Snidel that an unknown aircraft is requesting permission to board, Snidel demands that they shoot it down. Loid steers the plane out of the way of the sudden hail of bullets while Yor, still hiding in the back, hangs on as the plane starts shaking violently.

Back on the battleship, Domitri holds Anya while she screams for Papa and Mama. Luca approaches with a knife.

Back outside, Loid desperately steers the plane to avoid the gunfire from the battleship, including homing missiles. In the back compartment, Yor isn't able to see what's going on, so she thinks to herself that Loid's driving is…rough. Loid manages to dodge the missiles, but one of them explodes next to him, causing the fragments to fall on the plane and damage the left wing. He knows that crashing is inevitable, so he steers the plane towards the battleship. The impact of the plane crashing into the battleship shakes the room where Domitri, Luca, and Anya are in. They all lose their footing and fall, causing Domitri to let go of Anya. She then runs away and through the hallway while they give chase.

Loid jumps out of the cockpit with his bag of spy tools and onto the battleship as the plane crashes. He thinks to himself that he first needs to confirm where Anya is and heads through a narrow passageway. Meanwhile Yor makes her way out of the back part of the plane only to be greeted by a huge gust of wind. She's surprised to be on the outer part of a battleship. She peeks inside the cockpit to look for Loid, but he's not there. She remembers that Loid said Anya was with the military, so she must be on the battleship somewhere. The opening to the bottom of the battleship is too narrow, so she decides to go via the top, breaking into a fast sprint.

The soldiers find the plane wreckage and Snidel gives orders to search for survivors. When one of the soldiers tells him that there's a woman running along the outer part of the battleship, he thinks he's joking. But then he looks at the monitors and sees Yor for himself. He commands that they kill her, since she decided to come aboard using that plane, that makes her an enemy. The turrets at the top of the ship begin firing at Yor, but she swiftly dodges them. One of the soldiers readies a grenade, but she takes off her coat and throws it at him, causing him to lose his balance and fall backwards. When the soldier falls through the deck onto the catwalk, the grenade falls from his hand. Yor gets away just as the grenade explodes, causing the area around the hatch where the soldiers were firing to burst into flames. The soldier watching from the monitor shouts "Explosion on deck 3A!" When she encounters the soldiers, Yor politely says that she came to pick up her husband and daughter, but the soldiers were already unconscious from the explosion. She heads further into the ship. The fire continues to spread through the battleship. Snidel commands the soldiers to go put out the fire, and when asked what to do about the woman, he says to send out Type F.

Meanwhile, Anya is still running away from Luca and Domitri (while still holding her butt). She manages to elude them by slipping into a room without them noticing. She listens by the door, and when she hears that they went off to look for her elsewhere, she breathes a sigh of relief. As she turns around, she notices a toilet in the back of the room. Tears start welling in her eyes…after a long and painful battle, she finally won.

Loid hides in a small room while soldiers are running through the corridors. He wonders to himself what the explosion was and if the plane crash could have possibly damaged the ship's hull. He peeks through a gap in the door and notices an officer who appears to be a captain based on the number of stars on his badge.

After giving orders to the soldiers, the captain walks towards the door. Loid pulls him in, knocks him out, and gags him. He then steps out of the room, now disguised as the captain, wearing his clothes and donning a mask with his face.

The sound of sirens are blaring through the battleship. Yor notices the soldiers desperately trying to put out the fire and apologizes to them. She again says that she came to get her husband and daughter and asks if there's anyone who knows where they are. One of the soldiers looks up and shouts "It's that woman!" The soldiers begin firing at her, but she jumps out of the way, grabs a nearby fire extinguisher and throws it at them, knocking them down like bowling pins. She's confused as to why they're shooting at her, then thinks that they could be part of the bad guy group that attacked Anya on the train. She picks up two knives that the now unconscious soldiers dropped. She then thinks of Anya being in trouble, without anyone protecting her, and her face becomes clouded with anxiety as she tightly grips the knife in her hand.

Meanwhile, Anya happily bursts out of the bathroom with a refreshed look on her face, toilet paper rolling down her feet…only to bump right into Luca and Domitri. Domitri stands proudly with toilet paper around his feet, boasting about his toilet paper fortune telling. Anya's face goes pale. Snidel is informed by one of the soldiers that the child has been secured, and he commands that they bring her to him.

As she continues looking for Loid and Anya, Yor arrives at the entrance to the air cell and pries open the heavy door. She's met with a blast of hot air. The fire has spread all over the spacious room. As she goes further in, she feels a murderous intent behind her. As soon as she starts to look over her shoulder, gatling guns begin firing at her. She jumps out of the way as bullets are showered on her. She goes further down in the air cell just as a gigantic figure appears, slowly moving towards her with heavy footsteps. She politely asks who he is, but Type F doesn't answer. He reaches towards her but Yor kicks him to the ground, only to have more bullets fired at her that she subsequently dodges. She pulls out the knife and pounces on him, managing to knock off his helmet. She asks him to stop attacking but instead he presses his forehead against the knife, making a very inhuman metallic sound, breaking the knife. The arms of his cloak, that had been engulfed in flames, burn off to reveal that he wasn't holding gatling guns, but his arms themselves are guns. The rest of his cloak burns off, revealing a body made entirely of weapons. After he calls Yor an "intruder," she readies the other knife, realizing she has no choice but to fight him.

Meanwhile Loid, still disguised as the captain, gives orders to the soldiers to help them put out the fire. When one of the soldiers asks where the hostage is, Loid questions him and he explains that she's a child about five years old and that officer Domitri took her to the bridge.

At the bridge, Anya is tied and gagged in front of Snidel. Snidel is upset that they missed getting her poop, but Luca says that it could still be in the sewage tanks. Snidel says that it could also still be in her body, which makes Anya even more afraid. Snidel tells them to keep her in the room downstairs and he'll "take care of her" once all the chaos on the battleship is over, while also ominously adding that he brought an extra big knife to enjoy kebobs. He then orders them to go into the sewage tanks and find the microfilm or else he'll cut them like kebobs too.

After leaving Anya in the room, Luca and Domitri grumble about how they're in such a mess because of some greedy kid, and Luca groans that he's still sore from being bitten by the stupid dog. Suddenly Loid, still disguised as the captain, gets the jump on them and knocks them out. He wonders why Anya isn't here since this should be the only bridge on the ship. He enters the room where Snidel is and says that he's going to report on the status of the firefighting operations, but Snidel dismisses him, saying that he's busy now.

In the room below, Anya can read Loid's mind but she can't move or talk due to being tied up and gagged. She realizes that she's tied to a telephone pipe that leads to the room above, so she slams her head against the pipe to get Loid's attention. Just as Loid is deciding to back off so as not to make Snidel suspicious, he hears the banging in the pipe and notices a hatch right below it. He realizes that Anya must be under there, so he pulls off one of the buttons on his uniform and pretends he's going to pick it up when it rolls near the hatch. However, Snidel says "wait, captain" and asks him when he began to smell like...a city. Snidel then immediately shoots at Loid, who manages to dodge, but the bullet grazes the face mask that he's wearing. Snidel continues to fire at Loid, who hides behind a console in the room. Snidel asks if he's the traveler from Rubble and Bonds and says that he shouldn't underestimate the nose of a gourmet like himself. Realizing he's been found out, Loid tears off the captain's mask. Snidel and the other soldiers begin exchanging gunfire with Loid.

Back in the air cell, Type F continues to shoot at Yor, his gatling gun arm having now turned into a grenade launcher. She narrowly dodges his attacks and grabs a fire extinguisher set (with an axe) from the wall. They end up crashing down through the floor, with Yor slamming the axe onto his chest as hard as she can. However, this only reveals a firearm magazine in his chest hatch. The magazine sends bullets into the gatling gun. He aims at Yor again but she jumps away in time. As they stare each other down in the flame filled room, she wonders what she can do against an enemy who can't be damaged by knives or axes.

Meanwhile, Loid continues to exchange gunfire with Snidel and his soldiers. Snidel opens an attaché case with a gas mask and grenade that he calls "Type G." Anya reads Snidel's mind about the grenade being a poison gas grenade that he's been developing and wants to test out. She starts panicking, trying desperately to break free from her binds so she can warn Loid about the poison gas. An image of Loid covered in wounds as he tries to save her flashes in her mind as she thinks "It's Anya's turn to save you!"

Snidel pulls out the pin from the Type G and throws it over to the console where Loid is hiding…just as Anya breaks free. As the rope suddenly breaks, she falls and rolls across the floor, hitting her head against a console in the back of the room. A green light illuminates on the console. Suddenly, the windows in the bridge open and gas starts getting blown all over, much to the confusion of Snidel and the soldiers. Loid uses this opportunity to make a move.

As the gas eventually leaves the room through the open windows, Snidel's men are shocked at what they see through the dissipating gas – their leader Snidel wrestling with…another Snidel! One Snidel tells them to shoot the imposter while the other says that he's the real one. Loid (disguised as Snidel) thinks to himself that since Snidel is the only one with a good nose, he just has to fool the others. Snidel brandishes his knife and threatens to tear off Loid's "imposter skin" and turn it into pork scratching. But Loid gets the upper hand and manages to grab Snidel and cause him to lose his balance, saying that his "imposter" skin isn't so flimsy that it could be cut off by the likes of Snidel. He wraps his left arm around Snidel's neck and tightens his grip, causing Snidel to drop the knife in his hand.

The soldiers are still confused about which is the real one as Snidel's body falls to the floor. Loid says "Do you think I'd lose to a fake," fooling the soldiers into thinking he's the real one. He tells them that they're to head to the Arbo Republic as soon as possible and that they're abandoning the ship. He commands them to use the land route instead. Carrying the body of the real Snidel, the soldiers leave with shouts of "all personnel abandon ship!" When he's finally alone, Loid takes off his Snidel disguise.

Meanwhile, Type F's right arm is overheating but he tells Yor it's no use waiting until he runs out of bullets. Even though his chest plate was torn off earlier, all Yor has left is a broken knife…until she feels around in her pocket and pulls out the lipstick that Loid had bought her. She lowers the knife and tells Type F "this is your last warning, please stand aside. I only came here to get my husband and daughter." But Type F just says that they should all perish together along with the future of the East and West. He then readies another round of bullets. Yor dodges and makes a wide circle around him, dragging the lipstick along the floor. She slashes at his chest with the knife, causing the knife to break. As he jeers that a knife won't work on him, he looks confused for the first time when he notices a line drawn around him with the lipstick, leading up to his chest. She says that she heard that lipstick is half oil. He tries to shoot at her again but it's too late…the flames along the railing run down the lines of lipstick, igniting the weapons embedded in his body, causing him to explode. After confirming that he's been destroyed, Yor continues on her way.

Back on the bridge, Loid opens the hatch to the door where Anya is and jumps down. She's overjoyed to see him as he asks if she's okay. She clings to him and buries her face in his chest. Just then, something falls out of her pochette – the cherry liquor. She tells him it's what Papa was looking for and he realizes that's why she ran away from the hotel. Upon realizing this, he can't help but smile, and Anya smiles too when she reads the thoughts he won't say. Just then they hear a loud explosion. Loid holds onto Anya as the ship shakes from the explosion. "Anyway, we better get out of here" he says.

Meanwhile, Yor opens the hatch at the top of the air cell and makes her way to the outer part of the airship where she sees Loid and Anya. They're both surprised to see her. "Mama!" Anya says as she runs to Yor, who gently hugs her while asking if they're both alright.

Loid asks the same of Yor while also asking why she's here. After hesitating a bit, she admits that she came on Loid's plane and that since it was an "outing," that they should have gone together. She then asks if the people on the airship are actually the military. Loid pauses since he can't tell her the real explanation, but then Anya speaks up about how she ate their important chocolate on the train and that's why they were after her. Loid thinks to himself about how they must have hid the microfilm in the chocolate, but he can't tell that to Yor. So he says that chocolate theft is rampant in cold regions because people believe it will keep them warm...they'd even steal from a military ship. Yor believes him and comments that there's a lot of scary people in the world. They both scold Anya for what she did: Loid asks what the heck she was doing eating that by accident (while in his mind he's glad that she's safe) and Yor says that she shouldn't do whatever she wants with something that belongs to someone else. Anya guiltily says "sorry" and they both can't help but smile at her. They hear more explosions and Loid says that they need to get off the ship. Anya points towards the window and they realize that the ship is heading right towards the city of Frejis. Loid begins operating the device on the console. Yor asks if he knows how to operate it and he says that he knows how from when he did it as part time work when he was a student. Yor is impressed, but Anya knows he's lying.

Down in Frejis, people notice the large, burning battleship descending towards the town and begin running all over in a panic. On the battleship bridge, the ceiling blows off, causing an extremely strong wind to blow. Loid realizes that the propulsion system and lifting platforms are dead, and wonders if it's even possible to make a safe landing or even change course. Behind him, Yor and Anya are holding onto each other while the latter shouts "You can do it, Papa!" Loid says not to worry since the rudder is still intact. However, when he grips it, he can hardly get it to move and the ship is still losing altitude. Debris from the broken ceiling rains down on his head, causing him to lose his balance. Just then, he feels something on his right hand…Yor's hand. And on his left hand, Anya's. "Please let me help, too" says Yor, "Anya too!" says Anya. Working together, the three of them are able to move the rudder little by little.

The Frejis clock tower looms before them but they're able to steer the ship so that it narrowly avoids colliding and only grazes the side of the clock tower. The ship continues to lose altitude, heading towards the surface of a large frozen lake. Yor hugs Anya close to protect her as the ship shakes violent from the impact of the landing. The battered ship glides along the surface of the water at high speed, whipping up a cloud of steam. The frozen water crashes onto the ship, putting out the fire. On a hill not too far away from Frejis, Bond and Fiona stand near Fiona's car and watch with bated breath as the battleship crashes into the lake. "Senpai…" "Borf, borf, borf!"

Back at the ship, the Forges escape from the collapsed bridge and onto the roof. They look in wonder at the pretty scene before them of the glittering ice particles shining against the city lights like diamond dust. Suddenly, water that had collected on the deck roof pours onto them like a waterfall, leaving them soaked. They're perplexed for a moment before Anya bursts out laughing with a "waku waku splash!" Then Yor also laughs. As he watches the two of them laughing, Loid smiles softly.

Suddenly Anya sneezes and Loid notices something in her mouth. Loid realizes it's the microfilm, smaller than a fingernail. He wonders if it had somehow gotten stuck in her teeth. When Yor asks what it is, he clutches the microfilm in his hand and replies with a smile, "it's a return ticket."

The next morning at Berlint, Yuri listens to the news at his desk at the SSS: "The flying battleship that landed in Lake Frejis last night appears to have been an accident during a training flight. The committee has announced that it has already begun interviewing the manufacturer and the military." He remembers that Frejis is where Yor said she was taking a trip to and he wonders if she's okay. His lieutenant then opens the door and requests some documents. Yuri asks why the SSS has to be the ones to clean up this incident, and the lieutenant replies that if the people found out that the military was behind it, that would be troublesome. After the lieutenant leaves, Yuri muses to himself how it seems that WISE intervened in the incident though there's no solid information. He wonders how they could have possibly done it, then thinks "it must have been him…Twilight."

At the WISE hideout, Sylvia reads the newspaper headline which states that there were no survivors of the battleship incident. She compliments Loid, saying that even though the SSS put out the fire so to speak, he managed to not leave a trace of the Forgers' involvement. Loid replies that yes, the Forgers were just enjoying a normal family vacation. He takes out a wine bottle from his bag. Sylvia peels off the label, revealing the microfilm. She then tells him that he's back in charge of Operation Strix, much to Loid's surprise. She hands him a photo of Depple at night with a strange woman and says that his affair was exposed and he was disowned by the father of his wife. Loid smiles slightly when he notices that the woman with Depple in the photo is a WISE agent – in other words, he had fallen into their trap.

Afterwards, Loid meets up with Yor, Anya, and Bond at the park by a fountain. Yor asks how his patient was and he replies that it wasn't a big deal considering they called him out of nowhere. Anya asks Loid why there's no fish in the water and he flatly replies because it's a fountain. She then calls to Yor, taking her hand and leading her to the fountain. As Loid watches them happily talk about something, and Bond following along and enjoying himself, Loid lets out a sigh, but his expression is surprisingly soft. He thinks that even though he's able to continue Operation Strix, he can't let his guard down and needs to keep focusing on acquiring stellas. Anya reads his mind and is overjoyed that the Forger family isn't finished. Loid says that they should go home now since Anya has to "train" to make the melemele for the cooking competition tomorrow. Even though they weren't able to eat a real melemele, they at least have the ingredients for one. Anya asks to hold Loid and Yor's hand as she happily chants that she's going to make a yummy pastry. When Yor says that she'll help too, Loid and Anya politely turn her down. They then head home together.

At the Eden classroom, the students are preparing their cooking ingredients. Becky says that she's going to make an orange layer cake that she learned from training with her pastry chef. She asks Anya what she's going to make. When Anya replies "melemele," Damian overhears and comments that it's an old pastry. Anya tells him that if she makes something good, she wants him to have it too. Damian's face reddens as he shouts that he'd never eat anything she makes. With a shocked face, she asks if he really hates it that much. This makes Damian's face redden even more as he shouts that he'd vomit if he ate her food. He runs off with Ewen and Emile following. Becky comments that he's the worst while Anya thinks that the friendship scheme is a failure. Just then, Anya and Becky turn towards the direction of an explosion sound.

Later that day, Anya shows Loid and Yor a note from school saying that the school kitchen broke down so the competition was postponed and the judge was changed to the vice principal due to scheduling conflicts. Anya laments that since it's not the principal, the melemele won't work. Loid thinks for a moment and says that he remembers reading in the school newspaper that the vice principal is crazy about the berry pudding from the southern region. He asks if they should go, and both Yor and Anya agree. Loid opens a map and points out the southern region. He says it's warm there so they shouldn't need a lot of luggage. Anya is excited about going to the ocean and wonders what playing cards she should bring while Loid thinks it would be a good opportunity for her to learn how to swim. Upon hearing all the talking, Bond comes over from where he was sleeping and gives a happy "Borf!"

Meanwhile at Frejis station, Franky trembles in the cold and shouts "Hey Loid, I bought the cherry liquor!!!"

-----

Afterword: Congratulations if you've read this far! When I first started this project, I honestly didn't think I would write this much for a "summary" 😅 I thought it would just be a few paragraphs tops. But as I translated, I was like "oh, this is interesting, I should write it down!" And I just kept going with that and didn't want to stop! Some may wonder why I would want to spoil myself to this degree, but for me, reading about the movie (in a language I'm not fluent in) is still no replacement for actually seeing it for myself - the novelization doesn't convey every line of dialogue, character action/expression, voices, etc. But now that I know what to expect, I can get myself hyped for the scenes I'm looking forward to seeing while also not getting my hopes up for something I won't see. I don't care to do this for most things, but I'm the opposite when it comes to my hyperfixations like SxF! I'm also not going to give my thoughts on the movie until I see it for myself. But I will say that based on the novelization, even though I thought a few things could be better, overall I think it will be a ton of fun and can't wait to see everything in full animated glory!

Again, please remember to be cautious about where you share spoilers and to properly tag posts on social media. And if you end up sharing large portions of this summary elsewhere, a shoutout to my blog would be nice...I spent many hours working on this!

#spy x family #spy family #sxf #spyxfamily #loid forger #yor forger #anya forger #bond forger #twiyor #sxf spoilers #sxf movie #sxf movie spoilers #sxf code white #spy x family code white #sxf anime

[atinyniki]

happy new year!

group: stray kids !

pairing: idol!bangchan x f!reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

warnings + additional info: reader is referred to as y/n, established relationships, fighting, reader flinches bc of chan, reader is neglected, chan says rlly mean things, reader is pretty mean too, takes place on new years/new years eve, mentions of physical abuse, kissing, crying, kiss and make up (literally), chan is kinda mean to his manager (that he hates), petname, mentions of cheating, cheating accusations.

authors note: two posts in one day hell yeah ! this is also not proofread. english is not my first language, so please excuse any grammatical or spelling errors. happy reading :)

wc: 1524

“seriously?!”

he can only bring himself to nod, evidently a little upset at your yelling.

you both go quiet for a moment, until you break it.

“chan.”

he looks up at you again, playing with his fingers in his lap. “hm?”

“are you cheating?”

“what?”

“are you cheating on me?”

“n-no! how could you even… ask that?”

you roll your eyes at him. “you havent been home in so fucking long, chan. and now you’re leaving again and it… it’s just not fair!”

“it’s my job, y/n.”

“your job shouldn’t require you to be away from me every day! you just got back”, you yell even louder.

he knows you’re frustrated, but he’s starting to get a headache. “y/n—“

“plus, even while you are here, you’re never with me… you’re always sleeping and you never talk to me.”

and then it just snaps.

“well, what if i’m tired y/n? what if i’m tired of running around all day with shitty schedules? what if i’m tired of having to exert my fucking voice all the time? what if i’m tired of you being so fucking clingy with me? i need rest!”, he yells back.

tears begin to well up in your eyes, and the words lump in your throat. despite that, you still manage to say something.

“am i really that clingy just for wanting the attention that i deserve? i’m your girlfriend for gods sake!”

he gets up off the bed, lightly stomping towards you. you notice the upset look on his face, red, teary eyes, and his hands are clenched into fists at his sides. 

you scoff at the sight, “what, you’re gonna fight me now? do it. hit me.”

though you act confident, you gulp, scared for what’s to come. he reaches a hand up to cup your face, but you shut your eyes, flinching and turning away.

there was no impact.

you turn back to chan, his face completely streaked with tears. “did… did you think i was really—“

he cuts himself off, unable to say anymore. 

you trip over your words, you know you’ve hurt him now. “i- i mean… i don’t see another reason your clench your fists. i just thought that—“

“clenching my fists eases the pain of my heart. that’s why i do it so much.”

“o-oh”

an uncomfortable silence passes between you two.

“um… just- come to me when you’ve calmed down. i’ll be in the living room.”

“o-okay.”

he makes his way out the room, his fists still clenched. you hear the pitter patter of his tears hitting the hardwood floor, and you just break.

you’ve done it. you’ve made him cry.

what kind of a girlfriend are you?

you finally let everything sink in. you sit down on your bed, wrapping yourself in the blanket, but it smells too familiar. it smells like chan.

chan will be leaving you again in two days. you don’t want to think about it, but you can’t stop. this is what he wanted after all. to think about it. to calm down. but you can’t.

not after what you said to him. not after what he said to you. your breaths become labored, gasping for air in between sobs. it gets painful, you can’t inhale anything anymore.

you’re stuck, you can’t breathe, but you’re being too loud. so you slap your hands over your mouth, hoping that he won’t hear, and you stuff your face into a pillow, body convulsing with every breath.

you clench the bedsheets, just needing to hold onto something.

chan was right. it helps.

he is not doing too well without you either. he hasn’t been able to stop crying since you left the room, trying to distract himself with the future next.

he turns on the tv, finally finding the countdown to new years. that’s when he realizes how late it is. how long it’s been since your argument.

it’s five minutes till midnight. 

the next year.

a fresh start. 

but it won’t be the same without you by his side. he tugs at his shirt, sobbing into the cushion even more. he’s careful not to make a sound, not wanting you to feel even worse than you already feel.

before he knows it, there’s only two minutes left. he has to apologize. he has to make it right. there’s no way in hell that he’s ending the year like this.

he walks over to your shared room, knocking softly.

one minute.

the doorknob turns, and you’re forced to face him again. it’s just the consequences of your actions.

your pillow is soaked with your tears, as is his cushion that’s still laying on the couch. your hands are clenched into fists beside you, just as his are now. your bloodshot eyes stare directly into his, and it’s like looking at a mirror.

twenty seconds.

he walks over to the bed, eyes flickering between the wet pillow and your puffy face. his heart clenches at the sight, and he digs his nails even harder into his palm. 

still wordless, he kneels down in front of you, where your legs are hanging off the bed. he’s now level with your face, making him far more intimidating.

five.

a tear leaves his eye.

four. 

he smiles softly at you.

three.

he glances at his phone to check the time, hand reaching for yours. you comply of course, interlacing your fingers in a desperate attempt to just feel him.

two.

he leans in closer to you, heart beating wildly in his chest. it feels like your first date all over again, the nervous feeling in his chest.

one.

using his other hand, he cups your face and pushes your foreheads together, smiling even wider when you don’t flinch away from him this time.

zero.

he steals your lips in a breathtaking kiss, and you just melt into it. your hands find his face, but before you can do anything, he picks you up, lips still attached to yours.

he sits down on the bed and pulls you further into his lap so that you’re straddling him, finally breaking away from the kiss with tears in his eyes.

“happy new year, babe…”

even more tears escape from your eyes now, but you just can’t help them. you hug chan even tighter now, scared that if you let go, he’ll be gone.

“you waited?”

“of course i did. i couldn’t leave you alone.”

you kiss him again, whispering little love confessions to him as you do. “happy new year…”

he knows the elephant in the room still needs to be addressed, and sighs. “i’m sorry for calling you clingy. i didn’t mean it. i really love the attention you give me, and i truly wouldn’t trade it for anything”

“i’m sorry for yelling at you… i should’ve handled it better. thank you for being patient with me.”

“you know i would never… um- do something like that to you… right?”

“i know chan, i was just scared… it was in the heat of the moment. i’m sorry for not understanding.”

he hugs you tightly, “i love you so much, y/n. you’ve changed my entire life, and now i actually look forward to it. i look forward to my schedules, my comebacks, even waking up… because i know it’s for you.”

you can’t even say anything, scared another sob will come out, so you take some time to process his words, kissing slowly at his neck.

“i love you too, channie. thank you for being here for me, and thank you for loving me. i know i can be so difficult and just a lot at times, but it means a lot that you try to make time for me.”

he smiles, kissing you again and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “oh my baby… i’ve missed you.”

you’ve never heard this type of emotion in his words before, so you just know his words have a different weight to them this time. 

“i missed you too. wondered how i was gonna sleep without you, knowing that you were hurt and—“

“shh baby… it’s okay. i’m here now, yeah?”

“but you’re gonna be gone again in two days”, you jokingly whine.

he smiles, grabbing his phone from the end of the bed, and he calls someone. you’re not sure who, but it rings for a while until they answer.

“hello?”

“i’m not going to be there for the interview.”

“what? why?! we’ve been planning this for months.”

“okay, well my girlfriend was planning on having me to herself for months, but we don’t all get what we want, do we? i’m spending time with her now.”

“can we reschedule?”

“we’ll talk later.”

he hangs up, and you’re a little stunned by the coldness of his voice. you know he hates his manager, but that much? 

“not anymore, y/n.”

“i love you, dumbass”

he giggles, “i love you too, angel.”, he says in a sing-song voice while bopping your nose.

“angel? you’ve never… called me that before…”

he hums, giggling again and quickly kissing you on the cheek.

“new year, new name.”

<3

#atinyniki #skz #skz x reader #stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #bang chan #bangchan skz #bangchan fluff #bangchan angst #bangchan x reader #bangchan #bangchan x you #skz angst #skz fluff #skz imagines #stray kids x you

[suyacho]

CAUGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF IT ft. xiao

synopsis — sharing a bed with your bestfriend can’t be that bad, right?

kinktober 2023

content warnings: minors/ageless blogs dni - gn!reader - bestfriends - there's only one bed - caught masturbation - spit mentions - cursing - xiao calls reader pretty like once - shy blushy xiao towards the end - 950 words - possibly ooc idk HDJSKDK

note: me announcing less posts 🤝 xiao porn /lh. JDMSMDKD anyways tysm to my beta readers, this is my first time writing xiao pls be nice🫶

“X-Xiao ‘m so close—“ he groaned at your warning, his grip on you tightening as he fucked you at a hard pace. Slowly losing himself in your warmth, the familiar knot making his thrusts sloppier as he allows himself to let go.

So close, yet the feeling disappears in a matter of seconds.

Heavy breathes fill the quiet room as Xiao snaps back awake, blinking a few times before he realizes the situation he was in as he looks around. 

Hot and bothered from his dream and on top of that, he had a tent in his boxers, a clear wet patch confirming his dream. 

“Oh, fuck—” Xiao sighed, awkwardly scooting away from your figure, face flushed from embarrassment.

Sharing a bed with you was one thing, but having a wet dream about you while you were sleeping peacefully next to him was another thing. 

Xiao should’ve known better when the room you two were given had one bed, he should’ve just slept on the floor while you slept on the bed. Yet he couldn’t because you insisted on sharing a bed since you’re best friends and you trusted him, still he wished he didn’t, knowing that he could’ve avoided the situation he put himself in.

Glancing over at you, Xiao swallowed a breath. He could either get up and possibly wake you up or try to relieve the tension quietly, the second option meaning he’d throw his pride aside and that’s exactly what he did.

“I’m sorry.” Xiao mumbled, carefully pulling his boxers down after, breath shaky once the cold hit his hard on, that was leaking with precum. 

This wasn’t like him, he reminded himself but he already had gotten this far.

Hesitantly, he spat on his cock and reached down, wrapping his fingers around it, a relieved groan leaving his lips as he started stroking himself.

“Shit–” Xiao groaned, trying to keep quiet as he fisted his cock, the precum mixing with his spit, mimicking the way he felt his dream as he squeezed his eyes shut. Needy whimpers leaving his lips as he picked up the pace, not even realizing how vocal he was being, biting his lips to silence himself while he glanced over at you.

“You’re so p-pretty.” Xiao thought out loud, shame washing over him for a slight second, turning red as he looked away, embarrassed yet tightening his fist for more sensation. 

Squelching sounds filled the room together with Xiao’s quiet whimpers and the sound of the bed creaking from the way he was occasionally bucking his hips up. 

It was a wonder you didn’t wake up yet and it was for the better, because once again Xiao was so close and lost in his imagination. His pace became messier as he bucked up his hips more frantically. Legs slightly trembling and his whimpers turning into louder moans without realizing, louder than he ever allowed himself to be.

He just felt too good, you felt too good, sadly it wasn’t you making him feel good but his fist. With the pleasure overtaking him and how pent up he was, he couldn’t see the line between reality and his imagination.

“S-Shit ‘m so close—“ “Just like that.” he groaned, massaging his balls with his free hand, stimulating himself as he felt that familiar knot once more.

He was losing composure while his legs trembled, swallowing before he whined out your name over and over, releasing in spurts. Failing to notice one thing, right beside him.

“Xiao?” you asked sweetly, voice still groggy from your sleepiness as you looked at him. Being greeted with a surprising sight, the sounds you heard earlier only confirm your thoughts altogether with the view.

All Xiao did was freeze in his movements as he turned red, cock still cumming as he came in spurts as his chest raised up and down, too scared and embarrassed to say anything.

“I—“ you opened your mouth to say something, only to be met with a broken whine as Xiao slowly came down from his high, still frozen and not knowing what to do.

I shouldn’t have taken the risk, he kept repeating in his head.

“I-I’m so sorry.” Xiao broke the silence, feeling guilty and embarrassed as he kept apologizing, awkwardly covering his already exposed mess with whatever he could find.

You stared at him in shock without saying anything and your silence was killing him. This certainly wasn’t what you expected to wake up to, but you didn’t hate it.

“I’ll go.“ Xiao mumbled in embarrassment, looking away from you, getting ready to get up. “No wait—“ you spoke, rolling over onto your stomach and grabbing his hand, making him tense up once more.

“This is so embarrassing.” Xiao mumbled under his breath, you shook your head, smiling up at him. “Relax, it’s okay.” you reassured him and you felt him ease up under your touch.

“Are you.. sure?” Xiao asked hesitantly and you nodded, rubbing your legs together for some friction. The way he looked, turns you on way too much; his flushed face, slightly sweaty from the aftermath of his actions together with his still unsteady breathing painted a perfect picture. “Mhm 100%.” you answered, scooting closer to him.

“Next time, wake me up.” you teased him, noticing him turning slightly redder once again. “Could I?” you asked, glancing at the piece of cloth covering him and back at him, waiting for some type of confirmation.

Xiao nodded, swallowing nervously as you grinned, moving it away. “You look like you could use some help.” you taunted and Xiao whimpered, too nervous to say anything, scared his voice would crack from the nerves and embarrass him more. “So let me.”

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