#beseech au

[ranaewawa]

Nap time

I'm normal about them. I SWEAR (leshycat exists in this au, yes. cat's name is Ezekiel, Kiel for short)

#beseech au #cotl #cult of the lamb #evillious chronicles #cotl leshy #cotl yellow cat #leshycat #leshy x yellow cat #leshy trying so hard to become a sun but he's forever a moon smh. #the tailor of Enbizaka

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 13

PREVIOUS

“I can’t believe you would go out on Black Friday to grocery shop but I guess thanks for going out on Black Friday to grocery shop.” Aaron greets him with as FF moves over to the table.

Andrew and Captain Neil had apparently went out shopping.

Andrew and Captain Neil had apparently come back and have been in Andrew’s room for the past couple hours.

“Josten probably wanted to go to Excites for some gear. I don’t know what my brother sees in that Exy-obsessed jerk.” Aaron says as he eats his own smiley eggs and bacon. FF hears the sound of a hammer and a drill from Andrew’s room.

Heart in his throat he forces himself not to think about what Andrew and Captain Neil COULD be building.

(A guillotine, an iron maiden, that weird wedge thing that splits people in half at the groin, He should NOT have taken that Spanish history class. Oh god it’s probably a fence so he can’t escape whatever hunting ground Andrew is going to drag him to if he can’t buy his continued existence via baked good.)

“Shut up, they’re actually really sweet to one another.” Nicky chastises before turning to FF, “Because of that your final serving goes to Smithy. He deserves it more than you.” Nicky says and slides the final plate of eggs and bacon.

“He’s just as bothered by it as I am!” Aaron scowls.

“By what?” FF asks because there are a lot of things that bother him so Aaron is going to have to be more specific.

“By those two being all close. I’ve seen the way you turn and walk away.” Aaron reaches across the table for his bacon but FF just pushes the plate closer to him. The two plates he had already eaten were more than enough, especially after the full dinner that they’d had the night before. “You’re grossed out by it too right?” He asks as he goes to stab the bacon.

FF slides the plate away and Aaron stabs the table.

FF is NOT HOMOPHOBIC.

His gran raised him better than that.

“I don’t agree with you.” He says because he doesn’t but can’t bring himself to say anymore. He’s in Aaron’s house, he stole Aaron’s keys that morning to lock up the house.

(it was so rude but what if someone broke in because he left the house unlocked? What if someone got hurt just because he wanted to ensure his own survival? Isn’t it better that he just borrowed Aaron’s keys to make sure that no one in the house got hurt? Does FF still believe with every fiber of his being that Andrew Minyard is trying to murder him in this exact house? Yes. Can these concerns coexist peacefully? Also yes.)

If anything he finds Captain Neil and Andrew to be an incredibly nice couple. They talk about things together, they make plans about their future, their PDA was actually pretty minimal (especially in comparison to Aaron), and he had figured out the weird code Andrew talked in so he was pretty sure that Andrew and Neil loved one another.

The only issue he has with the couple is that they are out at a store probably buying supplies to torture and then kill FF.

Otherwise they were perfectly fine.

Aaron scowls, “You can’t be serious. You walk away faster than you run on the court when you see the two of them getting all gross.” He points with his fork and tries to grab the bacon again.

FF frowns deeper.

“I walk away even faster from you and your girlfriend.” He returns because Aaron and Katelyn are the couple who have been the MOST guilty of initiating something in front of him when he was in ‘Visible only when the sunlight strikes him at the exact right angle on the summer solstice’ mode.

 He had tried to clear his throat to get them to quit quite a few times but…well…he has heard Katelyn mention that one of her and Aaron’s favorite ‘hang out’ spots might be haunted….so he hadn’t been overly successful.

“PDA makes me uncomfortable in general. Captain Neil and Andrew are a very nice couple who you shouldn’t talk bad about.” He defends as one of the only people who would know exactly how thoughtful the two were to one another.

He hopes his Gran is proud of him for saying something.

Aaron looks at him with a twisted mouth for a while before relenting, “Fine they’re not that bad. It’s just a big brother thing.” Aaron rolls his eyes.

FF swallows down some acid in his throat and pushes the smiling eggs and bacon over to Aaron who smiles back at the breakfast and proceeds to eat it.

A big brother thing.

FF gets up and heads over to the final bag that Andrew had left out on the counter. FF had bought some additional offerings for his mortal soul to tide Andrew over while he made the brownies. It’s also where the incense and his latest two five hour energies should still be.

He finds the incense, wonders if he hallucinated the five hour energies (very possible), and hands Nicky a box of sour patch kids to distract him when he comes over.

“Smithy, why the hell are you lighting incense?” Nicky asks because the sour patch kids were NEVER going to be enough to distract Nicky. That would take something on the level of Swedish Fish but he’d been more focused on avoiding the candy thrown by an irate woman towards a member of Target staff because the grocery department couldn’t get her the redemption coupon for one of the flat screens in the Electronic department so he had FAILED to procure them. He’d even seen a box sail through the air is bullet time because his brain was too hopped up on Five Hour Energy but he’d let it go believing he could just grab a box at check out. THEN HE ZONED OUT IN THE CHECK OUT LINE AS HE STARED AT BOTH THE FUTURE AND THE PAST AND FORGOT HE WAS IN THE PRESENT WHERE HE HADN’T GOTTEN THE DAMN SWEDISH FISH.

“I’m going to make my Great Grandma’s brownies.” He says in response, “I’m hoping to channel her so I don’t mess up.” He says.

“Oh! More grandma baking goodies?! I can be your assistant baker! What do you need?” Nicky says visibly vibrating with excitement at the prospect. “We can listen to Mariah and I can lick the spoon!”

There is a noise of revulsion from the kitchen table.

“Don’t let him lick the spoon Smiths! He gets WEIRD about it.”

“That sounds like what someone who wants to lick the spoon would say.”

“Oh shut up!”

“That’s not a NO!”

The cousins continue to argue about spoon licking rights as FF gets started checking to make sure that the kitchen has all the necessary equipment to even make his brownies. He’d been so tired (last night? This morning?) that he hadn’t thought about even checking that the cousins would have things like a glass bowl, an baking dish, pie tin, etc.

Thankfully FOR ONCE luck is on his side and FF does not have to walk back to the Target.

So he finishes pulling out everything he’ll need, getting the oven pre-heated, and pulling out the ingredients for the brownies from the fridge.

He lights some incense with the stove top burners sends a quick prayer up and wonders if maybe a ouija board would have been better but if the Home Goods section had been a dangerous spot then the toy section would have been like walking into an active war zone. There are no laws as far as parents are concerned when it comes to getting the ‘it’ toy for their kids. FF has watched the highs and lows of humanity in the Barbie aisle more than once.

So he melts chocolate, he sifts flour and sugar, he separates eggs, and he uses every muscle that Kevin’s insane work out regiment had given his arms to whip those egg whites into stiff peaks. He knows his great gran is with him when Nicky and Aaron continue to argue (they are now talking about the ethics of licking the spoon vs. licking the bowl? He doesn’t quite get how they got there but alright) so Nicky doesn’t hear him say “Stiff Peaks Acquired” to himself because he knows Nicky well enough to know that he would have NEVER heard the end of it.

He uses all of the delicacy his gran had ever tried to teach him to fold those egg whites into the chocolate and then to fold in the flour and sugar. There are more steps, more ingredients, but unless you are family then those are CLASSIFIED.

Great Gran had always been the suspicious sort.

The oven beeps to let him know it’s done pre-heating as he’s carefully transferring his great gran’s life’s work into the baking dish.

He was so focused that he hadn’t even realized that Andrew was back until he turned to do the dishes and found Andrew holding the bowl and running his fingers through the scant remaining mix and shoving it into his mouth.

He is surprise that the scream remains in his head. He’s even more surprised that he stays upright. Maybe the nap did him some good even if it let Andrew and Captain Neil build whatever torture device they were intending to use on him.

He really needs to drink some pepto. He doesn’t think that Andrew will pause their ‘The Most Dangerous Game’ recreation to let FF manage his ulcers. Andrew is staring straight at him.

Andrew offers him the spoon.

FF declines. Raw eggs, sugar, and chocolate? With THIS stomach? He’d almost prefer to be chased through whatever enclosure Andrew is going to drag him to.

“When did you wake up?” Andrew asks.

“Hour ago.” He answers.

“Hm.”

“I’ll make the pie tomorrow.” he ventures trying to extend his life by another day.

Andrew shoves the spoon into his own mouth after that and walks out into the dining room. FF hears both Aaron and Nicky’s cries of anguish.

FF looks at the brownies in the oven at the incense burning on the counter and wonders if that was Andrew’s way of confirming his stay of execution.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

NEXT

Per your requests:

@i-have-three-feelings @blep-23 @dreamerking27 @andreilsmyreligion @belodensetdust @rainbowpineapplebottle @yarn-ace @iwouldlikesometea @lily-s-world @obscureshipsandchips @booklover242 @whataboutmyfries @sahturnos @pluto-pepsi @dreamerthinker @passinhosdetartaruga @leftunknownheart @aro-manita-muscaria @hologramsaredead @Chaoticgremlinswishtheycouldbeme @tntwme @tayspots @nick-scar @crazy-fangirl2524​ @blue-jos10​ @stabbyfoxandrew​ @splishsplashyouropinionistrash​ @sammichly​ @the-broken-pen​ @bitchesdoweknowu​ @very-small-flower​ @ghostlyboiii​ @its-a-paxycab​ @bisexual-genderfluid-fan​ @cheesecookie​ @theoneandonlylostsock​ @foxsoulcourt​ @blueleys @adverbialstarlight​ @elia-nna​ @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner​ @nikodiangel​ @foxandcrow-inatrenchcoat​ @hallucinatedjosten​ @satanic-foxhole-court​ @vexingcosmos​ @chalilodimun​ @insectsgetcooked​ @angry-kid-with-no-money​ @queer-crows​ @lilyndra @themugglemudperson​ @readertodeath​ @apileofpillows​ @mortalsbowbeforeme​ @hellomynameismoo​ @next-level-mess @youreonlylow​ @interstellarfig​

As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it right but you didn’t  get a notification there might be something switched around in your  settings that won’t let me tag you properly?

#Fluent Freshman AU #Did Andrew and Neil hear FF defend them? #MAYBE #Did great gran come down from on high to guide FF's baking hands? #oh Absolutely there is no doubt #This is her great grandson! He BESEECHED her #Andrew does not know about the fifteen other bottles of five hour energy that FF has in his backpack #FF pressing his face against his Pepto bottle: Oh we're really in it now aren't we Pepto #Andrew and Neil building a dresser so that Neil can store his clothes: I wonder if Smith is up #It is only the cruelest of worlds that I make FF endure Nicky having heard him talk about stiff peaks #Can anyone tell that I know VERY little about baking and am hiding behind the shield of FAMILY SECRET to skate by this? #Well if you couldn't I guess I outed myself as a silly little fool in the tags #AFTG #AFTG OC #AFTG AU #AFTG Fic #My Fics #Andreil #FF - Pt. 13

[gaycrittercentral]

Beach sketches (and photos) day two!! A) don’t worry he’s fine B) havin a good tiiiiiime

I drew the first thing on that cardboard paper they put down when you eat crabs, as a lil thanks to our server (but mostly because I can’t not draw on the paper. It is necessary). Sorry the quality sucks, there just wasn’t great contrast to begin with and I had to just do my best. The second sketch is just a good way to snuggle your Max plushie (or husband), who else is out here doin this sound off

And the last one is a lil reference to @lillylunala’s Mermax AU!! Love that boy and all the careful thought put into his terrifying array of biological weapons and hunting strategies 🥰

#sam and max #freelance husbands #sam and max freelance police #my art #greg and max hit the beach!! #we gonna go get a gigantic crepe for breakfast :D #and yesterday we went to the fractured prune (fresh donut shop) #if any of y’all venture out to OC MD go to the fractured prune I beseech thee #also praying for Lilly to be struck with inspiration for that AU again we need moooooore #or honestly any of your other ones they’re all so good!!!!

[hskinsprites]

can i request a guardianstuck alpha dave strider?

in the normal sprite style, he has slightly longer hair than canon, has black roots growing in, wears a red leather jacket with a crow patch below the shoulder of the sleeve and a couple other miscellaneous stitched up areas from strifes, wears a white v-neck shirt with a camera symbol on it, more prominent sneakers and has freckles and a cleft lip.

(symbol & jacket edited from deepseaspriteblog)

#alpha dave kin #alpha davekin #guardian au #i beseech this au name to be just a general catch all bc i do not think it will ever be a project like it once was. be free #<- update i lied. but #homestuck kin #hskin #finished reqs #Anonymous #answers

[trashogram]

He Chose You (Pt.1)

Lucifer/Reader

Hazbin Hotel AU where Lilith never existed, Lucifer has been lonely for over a millennia and Charlie will be born one way or another. Rated E for explicit sexual content of the raunchiest variety in later chapters and also weird old people.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12

There was a knock at your door. It sounded like someone rapping their knuckles against the wood whimsically, as if following the beat of a song you couldn’t hear.

The methodical folding of your clothes into garage sale-quality drawers came to a halt. You looked over your shoulder, shifting on your feet hesitantly.

It had been little over a week since you moved into the grand old Donner apartment. Apart from a quick tow-in of shoddy furniture from your hired movers, no one had come calling. 

You definitely weren’t expecting anyone either, not in a brand new city you’d spontaneously decided to live in.

After another moment of uncertainty, you pivoted to the door and inched it open to a slit you could peek through. “Hello?”

Your brow furrowed as you stared at the empty space ahead of you. Pulling the door open fully, you peered down one end of the hallway to the other. 

Nothing but cracked and crumbling crown moldings on wainscoting, a matted-looking saxony carpet, the same musty, stale air…

‘Quack’

You nearly jumped out of your skin, head snapping down to see a real, live duck standing just outside your doorframe. 

“Oh!”

     You immediately squatted down to marvel at the animal. It gazed back up at you with beady red eyes and a curious gait. 

“Hey little guy,” You cooed, smiling despite the incongruous image of a waterfowl in your building.

You raised a hand and reached out slowly, instinctive desire to pet the cute little creature warring with a minuscule yet no less embarrassing fear. 

Were ducks typically friendly? You knew so little, ornithology not being your thing. 

“Will you let me pet you?” Your fingers hovered over the surprisingly patient animal before it decided to nudge itself under your palm.

The duck shivered with delight at your touch, all-white feathers ruffling excitedly and tail wagging, looking akin to a very happy dog. 

“Oh my god.” You gasped, heart melting. “You’re so cute!”

Soft feathers brushed against your bent knees as the duck drew close enough to rub its body against you. It had gone from doggish to cat-like effortlessly, and you couldn’t help giggling over how silly it looked.

“Where did you come from?” You asked after a bit of cuddling, glancing from side to side once again. The hallway remained empty, no one running to fetch what you assumed was a beloved pet. 

     ‘That’s… weird.’ You thought. ‘So, who knocked on my door?’ 

It was tempting to ask the bird that was currently bouncing on its webbed feet. You couldn’t help but snort with laughter before positioning yourself so that you were sitting. In an instant, the duck made to climb into your lap, allowing you to carefully lift it onto your legs when it couldn’t reach. 

“You’re so silly!” Grinning, you continued to stroke its head. “Your owner is probably worried sick about their silly little guy.” 

‘Quack’ 

The duck burrowed its head against your stomach as it settled on your lap, and you sighed. “I’d love to keep you, but I don’t know how to take care of you, sweetie.” 

Little red eyes bore into you from below, seemingly wide and beseeching. It was too precious, and too perfect (to the point where you idly wondered if someone was somehow scouting a way to scam you via adorable duck shenanigans).

Aside from the guttural, sad ‘wek’ you got in reply, a slow creak of hinges drew your attention back up. The door across from you had visibly opened the barest amount. You squinted, just able to make out frizzy red hair and a red-rimmed, down-turned mouth in the dim lighting. 

“Oh hey, hi!” You stopped yourself from standing, instead of bracing the bundle in your lap close. “Is this your duck?”

A tingle went up your spine as the door opened fully and an old woman appeared. She was dressed in green capri pants and a ruffled tan blouse, hair red as an open flame and barely kept in-check by a cheetah-print scarf. The makeup she wore was caked on, harsh red lipstick smeared around her thin lips and black kohl-rimmed eyes popping out of her wrinkled face. 

The sour, almost suspicious look on her face softened but did not completely go away, even when she smiled.

“Oh Lou!” She cried, making you jump. “You didn’t get very far, did you? I almost didn’t notice you were gone, you little scoundrel!”

“Well, thank goodness for that I guess. He’s got those little legs, ya see,” She nodded down at your lap, “but he’s so darn fast anyway, might as well be a midget racehorse!”

You chuckled and smiled politely. That persistent tingling at your back had you holding back a shiver, and the skin on your arms prickled and rose. 

“I didn’t know we could have pet ducks in this building.” Your words belied a confidence, as well as interest in having a conversation with this woman, that you didn’t truly have. 

As a matter of fact, despite the inner scolding you gave yourself for being judgmental, you were quite off-put in the woman’s presence. The want to return to your apartment and shut the door in her overly-painted face was rising like a lump in your throat. 

“He seems to really like you, that’s so sweet. He’s not usually this friendly with anyone but my hubby. That’s Mr. Farrow, honey, have you met him?” The woman - presumably Mrs, Farrow, leaned down just a few feet away. 

She still looked to be examining you and your avian companion, the bland pleasantness oozing yet unable to suffocate the shrewd glint in her dark eyes. 

“Oh, uh, no. I’m afraid I haven’t -” You started. 

“Oh, that’s alright! That’s fine! Matter of fact, he’d get an earful from me if he was talkin’ to a pretty thing like you without me knowin’!” Mrs. Farrow laughed. “Just kiddin’, honey. You’re new to the building though, aren’t you? Well, welcome! It’s nice to see a new face here! ‘Specially a young one!” 

“Thank —”

“Maybe that’s why Lou is so taken with you! Animals just thrive off energy and sunshine and all that. Not slow, almost dead things. I’m sure you’re birds of a feather that way.” 

Again, your soft laughter is polite, teetering on nervousness. 

You took a moment to rise, humming apologetically when Lou squawked as he was jostled. On your feet, you instinctively stepped back. One foot over the threshold and solid in your apartment. 

“He is really sweet.” You said, holding the animal out as carefully as you could. “I’m glad he didn’t get lost.”

Mrs. Farrow stared, arms falling to her sides. She didn’t attempt to take the bird from you for a long, long moment. 

Confusion and disbelief clouded your mind as you stood, waiting, watching as Mrs. Farrow’s throat bobbed when she swallowed forcefully. 

What? Was she afraid of the duck?

In a split-second, she returned to smiling animatedly and waved a geriatric hand in the air so flippantly that the uncomfortable moment ceased to exist. 

“Oh honey, you can put him down if you want. He’ll come back over now that our door’s open.” Mrs. Farrow laughed. “Lou’s not my biggest fan. He’s such a prideful thing, you know. Just like Mr. Farrow - it’s probably why they get along so well!”

You blinked, then slowly bent at the waist to let Lou down. The duck made another disdainful quack, red eyes looking at you morosely. 

It’s little legs eventually rowed through the air in an effort to gain footing. You lightly placed him over the carpet and let go, allowing Lou to jump down. 

The duck began waddling away, though it appeared to hang its head as it did so. Occasionally, he turned to look at you, somber and sullen as if bidding farewell before walking on death row. 

“Aww, poor little thing.” Mrs. Farrow drawled. At your side. “Looks like my Lou is sweet on you! Poor guy, I can see why! Again, a lovely young thing like you is probably a gift from above in this stuffy old place.” 

“Say, how long have you been here?” 

You turned to the old woman. “About a week, I’m still getting settled.”

Mrs. Farrow nodded vigorously, eyes bright but mouth pursed. “A week, a week?! A week and no one’s introduced themselves to you?”

“Holy Toledo, you must think we’re all a bunch a’ snobs in here! That’s no good. Oh! Why don’t you come over for dinner sometime and me and my mister can show you some proper hospitality?” 

“Oh, that's really nice of you —” 

“Sure! Sure! It’ll be great, how ‘bout tomorrow night? It’d give us some time to get prepared, have things cleaned and settled. Do you like steak? That’d be perfect, actually. I’ve got some in the freezer just waitin’ to be defrosted.”

“Um, well — That’s a little short notice…”

“I’m sure Mr. Farrow won’t mind. He’ll be glad for the company, and if he isn’t, well he will be when I’m done with him.” She chortled. “Just another joke, honey. He’s always dyin’ to talk to someone that isn’t me. It’d be a real treat to him. Treat ta me too! What do you say?”

Your mouth opened and closed as a light sheen of sweat broke over the nape of your neck. Mrs. Farrow’s sharp eyes were wider, attempting to beguile you while your head was still spinning. 

“I-I guess, maybe —” You stammered.

“Wonderful!” The eccentric woman’s eyes lit up like fireworks, cigarette-smoker’s voice becoming truly raucous in her delight. “I’ll go ahead and get started. You go get back to what it was you were doing before Lou and I interrupted you! And don’t worry about a thing! We might be old timers, but a good meal and good cheer never go out of style.” 

Mrs. Farrow laughed, pretending to shoo you away until you were back inside your apartment and she was pulling your door to a close for you. 

“Have a good night, honey! We’ll see you tomorrow! 6 o’clock, don’t be late!”

Before you knew it, you were staring at the back of your own door again. 

‘What the fuck just happened?’

#hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel

[solar-wing]

⚣ Dick: The Popular Kid 😉

⚣😉 A/N → @swimmingpainterhandsfreak here you are! This is going to come in 3 parts, this one for Dick, and the next two for Jason and Conner separately. Every time I tried to do them all together, I kept getting stuck. They'll all be included in each other's in some fashion, but they'll still all have their own respective parts. Also, because I couldn't find it in my heart to do a fic where Y/N had to choose. Call me a wimp, IDC! Okay maybe just a little...either way, enjoy! WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI | Omegaverse | Courting Rituals | Highschool AU | Alpha Dick Grayson | Omega Male Reader | No one is a vigilante | Dick and Jason are not brothers | Dick is the stereotypical popular kid | Smut |

⚣😉 Summary → Dick, the most popular Alpha in school and one of the sweetest souls anyone will ever meet has his eyes on someone special. What's his plan?

⚣😉 Words → 7.0k

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💙

⚣ ENJOY 😉

Dick Grayson? Everyone knows who Dick Grayson is.

Everyone where he went, people swooned and fawned over him like some graceful dignitary or even divine being had just crossed their paths. His charisma was magnetic, drawing others into his orbit effortlessly.

With a smile that could disarm the most skeptical and a charm that seemed to flow from him like a natural force, he moved through the corridors as if he owned them, yet always with a friendly word or a helping hand for those around him. He wasn't just admired; he was adored, a living legend among ordinary teenagers.

And yet, you’d never know it from how Dick acted around others.

Dick Grayson remained remarkably humble and grounded. Unlike many in his position, he never let the almost worshiping attention warp his character. His kindness knew no bounds, and his humility was genuine.

Despite being the adoptive son of Gotham's beloved billionaire, Bruce Wayne, and having access to all the privileges that came with it, Dick never flaunted his status or wealth. Instead, he used his influence for good, often volunteering his time to help those less fortunate in Gotham City.

His actions spoke volumes, proving that true greatness lies not in the accolades one receives but in the way one treats others. In a world where fame and fortune often breed arrogance and entitlement, Dick Grayson stood out as a shining example of grace and compassion.

Bruce was the “Billionaire Playboy,” and Dick was subsequently deemed as “Gotham’s Prince Charming.”

And every prince needed someone to share their kingdom with; Dick Grayson was no exception.

Which is why Gotham’s most prestigious high school and its student population were positively abuzz with excitement at the rumors flying around that Dick was planning to court someone. While many had their own ideas (most being hopes that Dick would choose them), mostly everyone had one certain candidate in mind that had beseeched their heart of their school’s Prince Charming.

“Bitch, are you blind? Have you not seen how hot Y/N and Dick look together?” Sasha replied.

“OMG, yeeess! Like seriously, imagine how cute their kids would be. And Dick would probably be like the world’s best dad.” Manny screeched.

“Fuck all that. Y/N needs to give a real Alpha a chance.” Kevin proclaimed, puffing his chest out.

Everyone at the lunch table eyed the athlete while trying to hold back their chuckles, “Dude, no offense. But, you’ve got nothing on Dick. I wonder how Jason and Conner are gonna react.”

“Well, the four of them have been best friends since what, like the 1st grade? I’m sure they’ll be fine with it,” Ethan said bored, scrolling through his social media feed on his phone before coming across an interesting post, “Oh, would you look at that, Dick proposed to Y/N.”

“WHAT?!” Everyone collectively screamed at the table before Ethan’s phone was snatched out of his hand so they could all see.

“Rude,” The beta scoffed.

Dick had known Y/N practically since diapers after Bruce adopted him when his parents were caught in a fatal accident. The Omega’s parents, specifically his dad, had been classmates and friends with the billionaire.

From the early days of their childhood, they went from being adolescents who were thrown in the playpen together while their parents hung out and caught up, to being thick as thieves, joined at the hip, and now serving as constant headaches for the adults. They shared everything from toys and snacks to hopes and dreams, their laughter echoing through the halls of Wayne Manor as they embarked on countless adventures together.

Their parents often liked to joke that the two of them together were like two halves of one brain cell. Which, if you knew the two, it was nothing but the truth. Even worse when their other buddies Conner Kent and Jason Todd were involved, all four growing up with each other and causing massive chaos when together.

But, for Dick and Y/N, their bond had been special since day one.

From the earliest days of their childhood, Dick and Y/N had been inseparable. Under their parents' watchful eye, they had grown up side by side, learning and exploring the world around them with the curiosity and wonderment of youth.

As they navigated the trials and tribulations of adolescence, their friendship had only deepened, strengthened by the trials they faced together. Whether it was navigating the complexities of high school or grappling with the weight of their respective legacies, they had always found solace and support in each other's company.

In Dick, Y/N found not just a friend, but a pillar of strength, someone to lean on when he felt like he couldn’t stand so strong on his own. Dick's unwavering presence provided a sense of security and stability in a world filled with uncertainty. His caring sensibility and compassionate nature offered solace in times of need, a comforting reminder that no matter what challenges they faced, they would never have to weather them alone.

When they both reached the age of puberty where their second biological statuses would present themselves, their friendship remained steadfast and strong. As Y/N's presentation as an Omega became apparent, the dynamics of their friendship did shift subtly yet significantly added more depth to their relationship.

When there were sudden whispers and sideways glances, a subtle unease had settled in the newly presented Omega, shaking his confidence that had been strong up until then. For Y/N, the change was both bewildering and overwhelming, as he grappled with the newfound scrutiny and expectations that came with his new biological status.

But amidst the uncertainty and the whispers, there was one constant: Dick Grayson. From the moment Y/N's presentation became known, Dick was there, unwavering in his support and resolute in his loyalty. He stood by Y/N's side, a steadfast presence in the face of adversity, offering a shoulder to lean on and a voice of reason in moments of doubt.

When the bullies came, as they inevitably did, it was Dick who stood between them and Y/N, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive. With his new Alpha status and ever-growing popularity standing because of it, the bullying attempts were short-lived since none of their classmates wanted to commit what they considered social suicide by getting on the son of Gotham’s most beloved billionaire’s bad side.

Which, Y/N definitely considered them smart for it. Because, while Dick was always kind and pleasant to everyone, he was never a pushover and would always defend those he cared for with striking resilience.

Emphasis on the ‘striking’ part. Bruce had Dick put in self-defense lessons from the moment he could walk. An unspoken necessity considering the lives they lived.

But perhaps more than his physical prowess, it was Dick's words that offered the greatest solace to Y/N. In moments of doubt and insecurity, when the weight of expectations threatened to overwhelm him, Dick was there, reminding him that there was more to him than any title, rule, or expectation someone placed on him because of his status.

He‘d always repeat how he was strong and capable and that he didn't need the validation of others to prove his worth. And that he’d never know just how much he’d mean to others, especially the Alpha himself.

In Y/N, Dick found not just a friend, but a soulmate—a partner whose presence brought a sense of completeness to his life. As they navigated the complexities of adolescence and the challenges of growing up, Y/N became more than just a confidant; he became a source of emotional support and unwavering understanding.

When Dick grappled with the weight of his past, mourning the loss of his parents and struggling to find his place in the world, it was Y/N who offered a shoulder to lean on and a sympathetic ear to listen. With quiet strength and boundless compassion, Y/N stood by Dick's side through every tear shed and every heartache endured, providing a sense of solace and comfort that no one else could.

But Y/N offered more than just emotional support; he offered clarity and perspective in moments of confusion and doubt. With an intuitive understanding of Dick's innermost thoughts and feelings, Y/N helped him navigate the murky waters of identity and self-discovery, guiding him toward a greater sense of who he truly was.

And while Dick may have been the Alpha in their friendship, it was Y/N who kept him on his toes, challenging him to be better, to do better, in every aspect of his life. Whether it was pushing him to excel academically, encouraging him to pursue his passions, or gently nudging him towards self-improvement, Y/N was always there, helping Dick fill in wherever he was slacking and encouraging him to reach new heights.

But amidst the laughter and the shared moments of joy, there lingered an undeniable tension—a spark of something deeper and more profound. It was a connection that transcended friendship, a bond that spoke of unspoken desires and unfulfilled yearnings. In Y/N, Dick found a kindred spirit, a partner in crime, and perhaps, if fate allowed, something more.

Their relationship was a dance of longing and restraint, a delicate balance of affection and restraint that left them both yearning for more. And as they stood on the precipice of adulthood, their futures intertwined in ways they could never have imagined, Dick couldn't help but wonder if perhaps, just perhaps, Y/N was more than just a friend—he was the missing piece of the puzzle, the one who completed him in ways he never thought possible.

While he may have been too young to really understand everything he was feeling, he knew he didn’t want the chance of him never getting to learn more about it ever become a reality.

So, Dick went to his dad, to ask him how he could properly court his friend. Of course, Bruce, being the observant one who always liked to play detective as his friends and colleagues would point out, was not surprised at his son's request.

Truthfully, he was waiting for the day when Dick and Y/N got together and even had a little wager going on with the Omega's parents. Speaking of which,  he'd won, making sure to have Alfred remind him to collect his winnings from the L/N's when all this was said and done.

Actually, he figured why not collect his winnings as soon as possible. Being a bit of a traditionalist, something he got from his own father, Bruce advised his son the best first thing for him to do was to get Y/N's parents' blessing before he committed to anything else.

So, while Y/N was busy hanging out with some friends for an after-school club, Dick and Bruce made their way over to the L/N residence, where the billionaire smugly watched his son ask the two males if he could court their son. Of course, they gave their blessings with joy, but they didn't miss the subtle smirk on their friend's face as Y/N's dad went to grab his wallet.

Bruce took Dick to the stores to find Y/N a special gift, something that would symbolize his commitment and devotion to his feelings towards the Omega, but would also be an accurate representation of them. The younger male was torn between the many options, unsure of what would be the best choice.

When his eyes landed on a shining, silver chain with a sapphire pendant cut into the shape of a bird, Dick knew this was the one. He made sure to wear it for about a week, using his favorite colognes frequently so it was covered in his scent.

Then, right before lunch, he'd presented the gift to the Omega in the hallway of their school with many of their classmates as witnesses.

"What's this?" Y/N asked, looking down at the velvet box Dick had handed him.

"Remember that history project we had for Mr. Kari's class, and you chose to do one on the ancient Kryptonian society and all its mythological lessons," Dick explained, smiling softly as the memories flooded back.

"I remember."

"Well, I happened to be out shopping the other day–"

"Uh huh, I'll choose to believe that,'" Y/N eyed him suspiciously, making the Alpha chuckle.

"And, I saw this necklace," Dick continued, taking the box from the Omega's hand and opening it.

When the male caught sight of the jewel inside, his breath hitched, unable to take his eyes off the shimmering blue gem.

"It reminded me of your research on the mythological lore of the two birds," Dick explained, pulling the necklace from its cushion, "Flamebird and–"

"Nightwing," Y/N finished his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah," Dick smiled, "I guess the jeweler was a fan of the story. But, I remember you talking about their relationship, how they fell in love and were mates, destined to always be reborn and find each other, and it made me think of us, and how I don't ever want to think of life without you."

Take notes folks. Dude's got game.

"Y/N, will you accept this token and allow me the honor to court you, with the hope of becoming your Nightwing?"

Dick knew the Omega was going to later berate him and possibly hit him over the head with a pillow or something for making him cry at school. He liked to refer to himself as an emotional thug, something Jason accurately always called bullshit on.

"You're lucky you're cute you jerk," Y/N sniffled, hugging the Alpha tightly, "Of course, I will."

"Thank you, beautiful," Dick whispered, hugging the male back, ignoring the whistles and cheers of their classmates.

Y/N turned so his back was facing the Alpha, allowing him to clasp the necklace around his neck, the jewel resting near his heart. Dick smiled, wrapping his arms around the male and nuzzling his nose against the other's neck.

"Ugh, I'm calling it. They're so gonna get married and have a bunch of model babies." Manny gushed.

"I can't believe Y/N didn't realize sooner Dick was into him. How oblivious can you be?" Sasha asked.

"He's an Omega. It's a blessing and a curse. Blessing because they're usually the most beautiful and have the best genes. Curse because they're the most clueless and naive. If an Alpha wants to fuck, they're the easiest to seduce." Kevin replied.

"You're a pig. You're lucky no one has tried to castrate you yet." Ethan deadpanned.

"I'm not wrong."

"Still a pig, and you definitely are," Kara replied.

"Whatever. I still think Dick is a weak choice of an Alpha—"

"You're just mad because Y/N didn't go with you to homecoming."

"I'm not—shut up, Ethan! All I'm saying is that Dick is not the ideal choice for someone like Y/N. He needs an Alpha who's strong, can put him in his place when needed, and doesn't put up with his shit. Not a rich pretty boy who's spineless and soft. I'd even say Conner would be a better choice for him, not before myself though," Kevin stated, puffing his chest out a bit.

"Yeah, uh huh. Whatever helps you sleep at night, babes," Manny said, rolling his eyes.

"Just wait and see. When this ends in disaster, and Y/N realizes Dick can't protect or provide for him like a true Alpha can, he'll come running straight into my arms," Kevin said confidently, smirking.

"Maybe this is why you never get invited to Dick's parties anymore and always have to count on getting in with the rest of the football team," Kara mocked.

Kevin rolled his eyes, "Whatever I'm telling you, it's only a matter of time. Yeah, Dick's cool and nice and all that, but that's only going to get him so far. Plus, all the expensive gifts in the world don't compare to the value of a real Alpha," Kevin said while flexing his arms under his varsity jacket.

"Yeah, a real Alpha like you?" Sasha snickered.

"Exactly," Kevin smirked.

"Uh huh, sure. Keep dreaming, sweetie," Manny laughed.

He along with many others would indeed have to keep dreaming. Dick Grayson was not one to do things halfway.

The teen Alpha spared no expense when courting Y/N, taking him on extravagant dates, and spoiling him with lavish gifts. Of course, much of this was being spent on Bruce's coin, but the billionaire didn't mind if it meant he got to see his son happy.

Y/N also knew how Dick was the perfect gentleman (having an English butler who knew everything about being prim and proper helped a lot), but what he was seeing from the Alpha now was a completely different level of chivalry.

He was pulling out the chair for him if he wasn't opening the door for him or offering his coat. If he wasn't paying for the food or dessert, he was giving him his own. If he wasn't helping him into the car, he was holding his hand and making sure his seat belt was fastened.

Y/N was practically never allowed to pay for anything while in Dick's presence, or even in moments when he wasn't. When Y/N accidentally shattered his phone, his parents didn't even need to call the store to order a replacement cause Dick had gone ahead and ordered Y/N the latest new phone.

Dick wasn't just spending Bruce's money willy-nilly. Since Y/N accepted his courting date, Dick got a job just so he could use that extra money to spend on Y/N. Bruce just tended to fund the really expensive dates and gestures.

It gets to a point where Y/N has to think about his words carefully around the Alpha because, within a span of twenty to thirty minutes, it would be presented to him with a bright, adorable smile that made it impossible to be mad at him. The Omega was craving Wendys for lunch and without thinking about it said it out loud. On his way to lunch with a couple of friends, he was confused because Dick wasn't with him since they always walked together from lunch.

But, his sudden disappearance was immediately explained when after arriving at the cafeteria, he turned to see Dick walking in with bags from Wendys.

"Really?" Y/N eyed him with an amused raised brow as the Alpha set the food and drinks on the table.

"What?" Dick responded, an innocent look on his face.

That became more of their routine, even in situations where money was not involved. If Y/N wanted something, he wouldn't need to say a word, and Dick would do it.

One of Y/N's favorite things in the world was Alfred's baking, especially his cookies. On days when the Omega was feeling up to it or was just down in the dumps about something, Dick would surprise him with the cookies. Of course, he was paying for the ingredients and materials and just having Alfred do the baking, but Y/N didn't need to know that.

Sometimes, Y/N would get into a depressive funk about something and would start forgetting to take care of himself. His parents knew how to handle it, but nowadays, they just called Dick, and in under an hour, the Alpha was at their house helping Y/N get back on his feet. Helping him clean his room, organize things around him, and get himself back on track.

If you thought they were inseparable before, well, that was nothing compared to now.

Dick and Y/N were practically joined at the hip, always together, and always touching. Holding hands, shoulders, thighs, waist, etc.

And just as much as there was a slight change in Dick's behavior (in a positive manner of speaking), in how he treated the Omega, there was also a slight shift in his attitude towards others when it came to him as well. It wasn't obvious at first, but to those who paid attention or knew more about them, many could also see how much more protective Dick had grown of Y/N.

Don't be misled, Dick never lost his friendly and kind attitude with others. But, it was easy to see the Alpha tended to become a bit more on guard when with the Omega and they weren't solely around family like their parents or Conner and Jason.

Dick was always at Y/N's side or close by, ready to jump in at a moment's notice if he noticed even the slightest hesitation or uncomfortableness from his Omega. Which, no one would actively fault the Alpha for it, knowing it was typical for Alphas to become a bit more territorial and protective in any matter regarding the Omega they were courting.

And it didn't help that their school was full of prideful, jealous, and horny Alphas along with envious Betas and bitter Omegas. Even more considering they were all hormonal teenagers as well.

When it comes to a courting ritual, there is no greater challenge than competing with other potential suitors.

Since Dick currently held the title of one the most popular Alphas in school, if not the most popular one, mostly every Omega and a significant number of Betas wanted him as their boyfriend. But, since his eyes were on Y/N, that made the Omega in question the recipient of many fake, cheery smiles tinged with jealousy and obvious, hateful glares.

Which, to be honest, he didn't know which one unsettled him more.

On the other end, there were no shortages of Alphas and would-be suitors who saw and wanted Y/N as their mate. And with Dick suddenly courting the Omega, he'd pretty much made himself an open target, even if the majority of them were smart enough to know the consequences.

Dick didn't blame them, of course. Even though he always thought of his Omega as attractive, handsome, beautiful, and every other adjective in a thesaurus, he could clearly see how much Y/N had grown into himself since their early years as teenagers.

Y/N went from being one of the many everyone picked on and pushed around, to being one of the few most sought-after Omegas in the entire school. While puberty could be the literal curse of inconvenience and interruption, there was no arguing that it had its benefits as well.

And many would attest to those benefits personally. Not too much though since they knew Dick was a black belt in martial arts. But, there were always those who thought of themselves as untouchable and would try to test the waters, not realizing the depth of the ocean they were about to dive into.

"Oh, hey, Y/N. You're looking pretty hot today. Maybe we should hang out later. Grab some food or something," An Alpha said, leaning against his locker, his arm blocking his exit.

"Uh, thanks, but no thanks, Mike," Y/N politely declined, trying to pass the guy's arm, but the Alpha wouldn't budge.

"Aw, c'mon, baby. Don't be like that. You know, I could show you a good time. Better than what you've ever experienced. I could treat you right," The male purred, leaning in closer.

"I'm sure you could, but I'm not interested, sorry. Now, if you would excuse me, I have class," Y/N said, trying once again to push the other away.

"Why are you playing hard to get, huh? We both know that's not who you are, baby," Mike replied, grabbing the Omega's wrist and pushing him against the lockers.

"I said, 'no,'" Y/N glared, pushing the guy off him, "So, leave me alone."

"Aww, don't be like that. Come on, let's go have some fun, baby," Mike smirked, pulling the Omega into him.

"Mike, stop," Y/N said, struggling in his grip.

"Excuse me."

Both turned to see Dick, the Alpha's gaze sharp, and his fists clenched tightly at his sides.

"Dick! Hey, man. What's up?" Mike greeted, letting go of the Omega.

"Not much, just getting my books for next period out of my boyfriend's locker," Dick answered, moving to stand beside Y/N, putting a protective arm around his shoulder, "How about you?"

"Oh, uh, nothing much. Just hanging out. I was actually going to head to the library, so I'll see you later," The male tried to quickly excuse himself, only to turn and bump into Conner and Jason who were both standing there with their arms crossed, glaring at him.

"Going somewhere, Mike?" Conner asked, stepping forward.

"Yeah, man. Why the rush? You didn't seem like you were in a hurry a few minutes ago," Jason added, taking his place beside the other.

"No, no. I was just heading to the library. Need to catch up on some studying but uh, I'll catch you guys later," Mike said, but was once again stopped by the two Alphas.

"Why don't we walk with you? Make sure you make it there safely. It's the least we can do, right?" Jason said, a nervous look painted on the other's face.

"You wouldn't mind, would you?" Conner asked, an almost sinister smile on his lips.

"No, no. Of course not," Mike sighed, defeated.

"Well, then. Lead the way," Jason said, motioning for the guy to continue, watching him as he walked away.

"You're coming with us, right, Dickie?" Jason asked, a mischievous gleam in his eye.

"Yeah, I can't let you two have all the fun," Dick smirked, before turning to Y/N, "Mind taking both our books to class, babe? I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Of course not," Y/N nodded, giving the three a small wave as they turned the corner.

The Omega sighed, shaking his head, "Bunch of idiots," He said fondly, walking to his next class.

No one was surprised when Mike turned up at school the next day sporting a black eye and plenty of bruises to match. The three Alphas would deny anything, but everyone could guess what happened.

"Still think Dick can't protect or provide like a real Alpha," Manny asked Kevin with a mocking attitude after they heard about the incident with Mike.

"Shut up, dude," Kevin glared, grumbling.

Dick would continue his courting, making sure to put the fear of God into any other Alpha who dared to lay a hand on his Omega. He was determined to prove his worth, not just to the Omega, but also to anyone else who doubted him.

After everything the Alpha had done, Y/N couldn't imagine anyone else better for him. Sure, Dick wasn't a traditional, stereotypical, and cliche Alpha. He was more on the reserved and kinder side of the spectrum.

But, that's what made him special. He was someone who could make you laugh, even on your worst days, and could comfort you without needing to say a word. When he wasn't the class clown, he was the one everyone could count on and rely on.

His patience was endless, his kindness boundless, and his loyalty unwavering. And, not to forget, the dude was super fucking hot.

Just as much as Y/N was emotionally and mentally attracted to Dick, not that he was looking at the Alpha in a different line since the beginning of this courting ritual, the physical attraction he felt was almost overwhelming.

Dick may not have been on any sports teams, but he might as well have been, cause the dude was fucking ripped. He had abs for days and a backside and thighs to die for. Not to mention, the muscles in his arms.

Y/N could feel himself salivate whenever he had the pleasure of seeing the Alpha undressed and was very lucky no one had ever seen him drooling over his best friend. And the same went for Dick, who'd always been attracted to Y/N but only had just recently started acting on those feelings.

And what did you get when you had two hormonal, in-love teenagers?

Two horny fuckers who couldn't keep their hands to themselves.

"We're going to be late," Y/N said, panting against the door of the janitor's closet they were in, his shirt discarded and pants unbuckled with Dick kneeling on the floor in front of him enjoying himself immensely on the Omega's arousal.

"Don't care," Dick murmured, the vibrations sending a jolt of pleasure through the younger's body.

"Someone's gonna find us," Y/N moaned, gripping the Alpha's hair tightly.

"They won't," Dick hummed, his tongue swirling around as he continued his erotic ministrations.

"Fuck," Y/N whimpered, his hips bucking forward.

"Any louder and you'll be the ones who get us caught," Dick teased, pressing a finger toward the Omega's slicked hole which pushed them over the edge.

"I hate you," Y/N panted, leaning his head against the door, his eyes closed as he tried to calm his racing heart.

"No, you don't. You love me," Dick smiled, the area around his mouth shiny with Y/N's arousal and cum as he stood up and pressed a kiss against the Omega's cheek.

"Ew! Dick, gross," Y/N whined, wiping and cheek and pushing the Alpha back.

"What? It came from your body! That's basically kissing you," Dick chuckled, fixing his clothes.

"That's not how it works and you know it. You're disgusting. I'm not doing this with you anymore," Y/N stated, cleaning himself up.

That was a lie.

Y/N found himself in a role-reversal situation as he was on his knees, forcing the Alpha against the wall while bobbing his head up and down on the Alpha's cock with unforgiving energy.

"Fuck, baby. She was only giving me her notes for the physics exam," Dick groaned, his hand fisting the Omega's hair.

"I'm sure," Y/N growled, his teeth lightly scraping along the length, his mouth still working, "That's probably why she was trying to scent mark you too, right?"

"She wasn't–shit, babe. Fucking hell, that's it. Right there," Dick moaned, his hips thrusting forward.

"Wasn't what? Going to try and get you to knot her in the bathroom stall after the test? Cause, I'm pretty sure that's what her plan was, right?" Y/N seethed, his hand pumping the Alpha's shaft, his tongue flicking the slit.

"Geez, who knew you could get so jealous," Dick chuckled, his breathing ragged.

"Shut the fuck up. Don't think I won't bite this thing off," Y/N threatened, his teeth lightly scraping the flesh.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. But, you don't have to worry, alright? There's no one else but you, Y/N. No matter how many Omegas try and throw themselves at me, my eyes will always be on you. Only you," Dick promised, caressing the other's cheek.

Y/N only gave him a look before his mouth was engulfing the Alpha's cock, sucking and licking the throbbing appendage while squeezing at the base to prevent him from cumming.

"Fucking hell, baby. I'm sorry, okay. I won't talk to her again. Promise," Dick whimpered, his orgasm feeling like he was going to collapse if he didn't cum down the Omega's throat soon.

"Damn right, you won't. This here belongs to me. Understand?" Y/N stated his tone firm and commanding while gripping the hard cock in his hand harder for emphasis.

"Yes. Shit, yes. Please, Y/N," Dick begged, his legs starting to shake.

"Who's is it, Dickie?"

"Yours,"

"Who's the only one who gets to taste, touch, or smell this?"

"Only you,"

"Good," Y/N purred, his tongue running to the shaft and its leaking head.

"Oh my god," Dick moaned, his breath coming out in heavy pants.

"You're all mine, Dick Grayson," Y/N declared, his lips wrapping around the swollen head, sucking and licking the precum.

"Yours. All yours, beautiful. Only you," Dick whimpered, his hips rocking gently, his eyes rolling back as he came into the Omega's mouth.

Y/N greedily swallowed, his hands moving to squeeze and massage the Alpha's balls, milking him dry. Dick stared down at the sight of the Omega with his cock still inside his mouth, the male's cheeks hollowed out as he sucked.

"Tastes so good," Y/N hummed, his tongue lapping up the remaining liquid.

"Jesus, babe," Dick groaned, pulling the Omega off the ground and onto his feet.

"What?" Y/N asked innocently, smiling at the Alpha.

"Nothing," Dick smiled, kissing him, "You're just amazing, that's all."

They couldn't get enough of each other, continuing their sneaking off to empty classrooms and bathrooms, sometimes even the gym showers and the locker rooms. They would usually do their "business" in the middle of the day, right after lunch or in the morning.

They would try to do it at each other's house, but would constantly get interrupted by their parents, who more often than not knew what their kids were getting up to. They were teenagers themselves once and didn't want to risk the young Alpha and Omega making a mistake.

It's why neither was allowed to hang out in the other's room without the door open. They used to sleep in the same bed when they were younger, but after they presented and especially started becoming a couple, both Y/N's parents and Dick's dad had to lay down some strict rules.

Didn't mean they would listen though.

"Dick, stop," Y/N whimpered, his hands gripping Dick's forearms as he laid with his back against the Alpha's shirtless chest, his hips rocking into the Alpha's fingers.

"Fuck, baby. So fucking wet," Dick groaned, his fingers thrusting into the Omega's slick, heated hole.

"Dick, your dad or Alfred could hear us and walk in at any moment," Y/N panted, his legs quivering.

"You should've thought about that before you teased me in the car," Dick whispered, his fingers curling and pressing against the spot that had the Omega crying out.

"Fuck!" Y/N whimpered, his fist flying up to his mouth and biting down.

"Yeah, that's it, babe. Stay quiet as you can," Dick husked, his pace increasing, his fingers stretching the Omega's hot walls.

"Mmph," Y/N moaned, his head falling back against the Alpha's shoulder, his hips rocking against the other's hand.

"That's it, baby. Just like that. Feel so good, babe. Gonna ruin this tight little hole of yours," Dick purred, his free hand tweaking and tugging at the Omega's sensitive nipples.

"Dick, please. Wanna cum," Y/N cried, his hand reaching behind and gripping the Alpha's neck.

"Then, cum. Show me how much you love it when I fuck you with my fingers, baby," Dick grunted, his fingers twisting and curling.

"Shit, shit, shit," Y/N chanted, his voice muffled as he bit down on his fist, his orgasm ripping through him, his cum coating his stomach.

"Hey dudes– OH MY FUCKING GOD!"

Both males froze, their heads snapping towards the door, their eyes widening as they saw Jason and Conner standing there, their mouths hanging open.

"Guys! What the fuck!" Dick immediately grabbed his comforter to cover Y/N.

"Dude! We didn't need to see that! What the fuck!" Jason shouted, his hands covering his face.

"This is the worst day ever," Conner mumbled, his eyes closed and shaking his head.

"Get the fuck out!" Dick growled, throwing a pillow at the two.

"Don't have to tell us twice!"

Both boys immediately turned around and ran out of the room, closing the door shut.

"Those two idiots. I'm gonna kill them," Dick grumbled, his arms wrapping protectively around the Omega.

"Well, we should've been more careful," Y/N said, sighing as he still was coming down from his orgasm and the shock of their friends walking in on them.

"Yeah, well. You were the one who decided to tease me the entire car ride," Dick defended.

"Whatever, I'm taking a shower. I feel sticky and gross," Y/N huffed, removing himself from the Alpha's grasp and heading to the bathroom.

"I'm joining you," Dick stated, getting up and following him.

"You're insatiable," Y/N shook his head, a smile on his lips.

"Only for you, baby," Dick winked, shutting the door behind him.

He was indeed insatiable, and it only got worse when they finally did the entire deed, Dick craving every touch and drop of the Omega he could get. It'd get even worse when his instincts and his jealous and territorial side would show when another Alpha would stupidly try to make a move on his Omega.

Now, that Dick had gotten a full taste of the Omega, outside and in, no one could compare. And the thought of someone else touching his Omega, made his blood boil.

Y/N's thighs had trembled as he lay back against the leather back seats of Dick's sports car, the Alpha's large firm, and sweaty body hovering over him as he snapped his hips forwards, inserting his full length inside the Omega. The car rocked back and forth with the force of his thrusts, making the tinted windows fog and preventing anyone from seeing the two teens inside.

"Mine. All mine," Dick growled, his nails digging into the Omega's plush hips, the sound of their skin slapping together echoing.

"Fuck, Dick," Y/N whined, his legs spreading wider, allowing the Alpha to reach deeper, his thrusts unforgiving.

Dick kissed the inside of the Omega's neck, bringing his sweaty body closer when he could feel it sliding up and retreating from his harsh movements. He pressed Y/N harder into the seats as he increased his pace, causing the Omega's moans and noises to reach a higher volume.

"Don't run from me," Dick grunted, his lips capturing the other's in a searing kiss as fucked into him at an even rougher pace.

He nudged Y/N's thighs apart with his hips that attempted to close from reflex, the Omega's body jolting with every deep, forceful thrust. Y/N let out a strained moan, his nails scratching down the Alpha's broad and muscular back as he was fucked like a slut, praying in the back of his mind none of their classmates would notice it steamy and rocking vehicle.

"No one else gets to have you. No one but me. You're mine, Y/N. Always have and always will be. Understand?" Dick's teeth scraped along the male's scent gland as he felt himself getting closer to his finish, "Say it. Say you're mine," He growled, his hands gripping the Omega's ass, pushing his legs further apart, and holding him in place, his cock drilling into the younger's abused and leaking hole.

"Yours," Y/N sobbed, his tears running down his cheeks, his face flushed red, his heart pounding as he was overwhelmed with pleasure, his body on fire, "All yours, Dick. Forever and always."

Dick smiled at the proclamation, eyeing the blew pendant necklace laying against the Omega's sweaty skin right over his heart, his chest puffing out, pride swelling within him, "My Omega," He purred, before delivering a few more thrusts, slamming into the Omega with a loud groan as he shot his load into the condom.

The pair lay there, panting, trying to regain their breath. Dick had his head tucked against the Omega's neck, his arms wrapped around him tightly, his knot keeping him connected.

"Are you satisfied now?" Y/N breathed, his eyes closed, his hands resting on the Alpha's broad and sweaty back.

"For now," Dick answered, smiling, pressing a kiss against the male's skin.

"I swear if anyone saw us and spread this around the school because you got a little jealous–"

"A 'little' jealous? I was not a little jealous. That guy was all over you and wouldn't take no for an answer. I had to step in," Dick defended.

"We were talking, Dick. He was asking me for notes about the history final. Not every Alpha or Beta that talks to me is going to be another Mike," Y/N explained.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Shut up and cuddle me. I need affection," Dick pouted, snuggling the Omega.

Y/N chuckled, rolling his eyes, but did as asked, wrapping his arms and legs around the Alpha.

"There, better?"

"Much," Dick smiled with another soft kiss to the Omega's chest, right by his necklace.

"Good. Now, when are we getting you the necklace to match mine?" Y/N asked, his fingers tracing the lines of the muscles on the Alpha's back.

"Patience, baby," Dick chuckled, his hand rubbing up and down the smooth and soft body under him.

"Don't tell me to be patient," Y/N grumbled, pouting, "If you're Nightwing then I have to be Flamebird, which means you need a necklace that looks like a Flamebird. We're a mated pair, remember?"

"Oh I remember," Dick smirked, flexing his dick inside the Omega's warm walls.

"Fuck. Don't do that," Y/N whined, his legs tightening around the Alpha's waist, his back arching off the bed.

"Sorry, baby," Dick apologized, not sounding sorry at all.

"You're not," Y/N rolled his eyes.

"Nope," Dick grinned, his tongue licking up the Omega's neck.

Dick continued courting Y/N throughout the rest of the school year. As expected, they were each other's date to the prom where they proceeded to have hot, crazy sex at their hotel, and then came graduation.

To no one's surprise, other than maybe Y/N's, Dick proposed at their commencement ceremony, in front of everyone, the whole school watching. The Omega said yes, of course, and they were congratulated and cheered by their classmates and faculty.

Their parents were surprised, not expecting the couple to take the next step so quickly. They were happy for their sons, of course, but wanted them to be sure. Dick and Y/N agreed to both wait till after college to actually get married, fine with just being fiances' for now.

Someone had caught a picture of them kissing after Dick proposed and replaced the photo they had initially of them in the school's cutest couple section of their class yearbooks. The bunch of saps.

It was a love story straight out of the books—wait a second...

...

Nah.

☀️ | Dick Grayson/Nightwing | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

🏍️ | Jason: The Rebel | 🏍️ • 🏈 | Conner: The Jock | 🏈

#solar-wing ☀️ #gay #omegaverse #a/b/o dynamics #high school au #dc #dcu #dcau #dc universe #dc comics #dc x reader #dc x male reader #x reader #x male reader #male reader #m!reader #dick grayson #dick grayson fanfiction #dick grayson fic #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x male reader #nightwing #nightwing fic #nightwing fanfiction #nightwing x reader #nightwing x male reader #☀️🪽.fanfic #☀️🪽.dcposts #☀️🪽.request

[hisui-dreamer]

Hi, congratulations on 1k followers! I love your writing a lot and I was hoping you could do Villainess AUs with Malleus? Like isekai manhwa style? Thank you!!

the gazelle's sweet briar

Pairing: Malleus Draconia x f!reader

Synopsis: your first objective was to avoid the main characters, but it's not easy when you only have the memories of your friend's ramblings to work off of

Tags: cliché isekai plot, reincarnation, fluff, arranged marriage, tw (mentioned): bad parenting, patriarchal society, death

Word count: 1.6k+

Notes: @coralinnii has an amazing series based on isekai villainesses, so i definitely recommend you check out her work too! im so in love with it (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

Masterlist

Once upon a time, there lived a villainess of exceptional allure, her visage as enchanting as a moonlit night. However, this bewitching beauty concealed a heart blackened by a singular obsession with appearances.

From the earliest days of her upbringing, her mother, a woman who had managed to step into aristocracy by charming a noble, had instilled in her a cruel belief: that those who were not blessed with physical perfection were destined for lives of relentless mockery and eternal solitude. This twisted ideology consumed the villainess' every thought, blinding her to the virtues of education and morality. She became nothing more than a porcelain doll, admired solely for her aesthetic charm.

The King arranged a marriage between her and Duke Draconia, the enigmatic descendant of the dragons who ruled the northern lands, believing that such a striking bride would surely please the reclusive Duke.

However, the King remained oblivious to the swirling rumours that pervaded the courtly circles. Whispers spoke of the Duke as a hideous man who had never once revealed his face, perpetually concealed behind a forbidding black mask. When the rumours reached the villainess' ears, she threw tantrum after tantrum, vehemently refusing to wed a man whose appearance couldn't possibly match her own.

Yet, a royal decree could not be denied. Reluctantly, the villainess embarked on her journey to the northern realm in bitter acceptance. It had rained the moment she arrived, the castle dark and uninviting, with thorns crawling onto the obsidian walls. The Duke, an oblivious and shy man, did not greet her at the grand entrance. Instead, she was met by the Duke's advisor, a man with a curiously boyish features.

Humiliation welled up within the villainess' heart, for she felt as if she were being played the fool by the entire duchy. On the eve of her arrival, anxiety gnawed at her like a relentless spectre.

As night descended, the Duke, mustering his courage, attempted to approach the vexed lady.

But when the villainess beheld his masked face, terror seized her like a vice. "Stay back! You hideous beast!" she cried out, her voice trembling with fear, and she recoiled, her steps faltering as she retreated from him.

The Duke, wounded by her cruel words, attempted to console her, his outstretched hand beseeching understanding. Yet, her irrational dread overcame her, and she continued her backward retreat until, with a heart-stopping scream, she slipped from an open window.

That was how the villainess' life ended.

you hadn't actually read the book, but it wasn't difficult identifying who you got reincarnated as

especially with how your best friend obsessed over this villainess because, and i quote, "if pretty, why evil, huh???"

you woke up a week before the villainess would depart for the North, but that week alone was enough to make you understand the way she acted

every day, you were fed portions fitting of a child, had your skin rubbed raw as you were bathed, and not a moment of your mother's nitpicking about a sudden imperfection she found in you

in truth, you were more than glad to leave for the North, even if that's where your life would be on the line

the survival plan was simple: maintain an amicable relationship with the duchy until the night the heroine stumbles in to ask for a night of shelter, to which the heroine would heal the emotional wounds of the Duke, and share with him the beauty of love, bringing warmth into his heart

and so, you arrived at the estate, the castle tall and intimidating with the clouds dark and foreboding

still, you stepped out of your carriage (with wobbly legs) and met the advisor (your friend's favourite character, in fact)

the advisor, lilia, though seemed young, was actually the very man who raised the duke in the absence of his parents

he welcomed you as the lady of the duchy, and led you to your quarters

by nightfall, you were quite comfortable with living in the estate

everyone was polite, the food was delicious (and properly sized), and you had no doubt you'd settle nicely here

as a precaution to the death sequence, you decided to take a stroll in the rose garden after dinner

if you were already on the ground floor, you couldn't fall to your death, right?

but unexpectedly, you encountered a lone figure in the centre of the garden

he was incredibly tall, dressed simply, his emerald eyes fixated on the estate

upon closer inspection, you noticed he had long horns as well, perhaps he was a gazelle beastman?

either way, you were curious about what it was that held his attention so strongly that he couldn't notice your presence

"Excuse me, sir? May I ask what is so interesting about the building?" you timidly break the silence of the night.

The man turns to you, his eyes widening in surprise. "... Do you not know who I am?"

You blinked in confusion at his words. His words filled you with a sense of foreboding. You wondered if this person matched any of the characters your friend had so fervently described, but all you could recall was the beautiful villainess and the enigmatic advisor to the Duke.

"My apologies, I'm afraid I do not... May I know your name, sir?"

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he considered your question. "No... If that is the case, you may call me whatever you wish."

Perplexed by his response, you tried to come up with a suitable name. "Then... May I call you Mr. Gazelle?"

Upon hearing your words, he burst out in laughter. "Hahaha! What an interesting choice. Very well, I accept the name," he said. "In response to your first question, I was observing the gargoyles of the building."

on that night, not only did you learn more about the fascinating functions gargoyles serve, you also made your first friend in this life

strangely enough, you didn't meet the duke at all unlike the novel, which though strange, you greatly welcomed

if you didn't have any ties with him, then it'd be so much easier to just divorce him, get the money, and live a comfortable luxurious life far away from the main characters

though as you say that, you find yourself wanting to spend more and more time with "Mr Gazelle"

despite his intimidating appearance, he turned out to be a very generous person, frequently gifting you little trinkets he's made or bouquets he's arranged

he's started calling you "Briar", after the roses in the garden where he met you

you greatly appreciated the nickname, it felt better to be called that than the name of the villainess, that you could just be yourself and not play the role of a villainess avoiding ruin

you also find that whatever musings you've mentioned to him, they somehow manifest themselves

oh? you wish you could learn about embroidery? the next day there's a basket full of the highest quality threads and fabrics, with a gentle tutor to help you learn

(you still remember how cute "Mr Gazelle" looked when you gave him your first finished product, a handkerchief with an embroidered gargoyle)

what's this? you'd like to try more desserts from the capital you were never allowed to try? say no more! the next day the chef presents you with 10 different choices!

so you assumed he was an advisor of sorts to the Duke, because how else could your requests be granted so easily?

but one day, around two months after you started living in the duchy, "Mr Gazelle" asked you questions about the duke, whether you were afraid of him, would you prefer to meet him, curious questions like that

though surprised by the topic, you answered honestly, saying you don't really believe in the rumours (because you know from your friend he's an ethereal beauty) and yes, you would like to meet your husband

and what do you know? lilia informs you the duke wants to share dinner with you. what a coincidence!! :)

Nervousness held you in its grasp as you stepped into the room. Your gaze remained fixed on the carpet beneath your feet, and your knees bent gracefully as you executed the perfect curtsey.

"Your Grace."

You could hear sounds of shuffling, and then a pair of black boots entered your field of vision. Familiar hands found yours, guiding you to rise and stand upright. "Rise, my Briar," he murmured gently.

With hesitant anticipation, you finally looked up, taking in the obsidian mask that concealed his face. That voice, that nickname, and those enchanting eyes—it was all too familiar.

"Mr Gazelle..." you whispered in disbelief.

His eyes narrowed in mirth as he chuckled. "Although I hold great fondness for that name, I do wish you could call your husband by his name," he said as he began to remove his mask.

"Malleus..." you breathed.

A tender smile graced his lips, and his eyes sparkled with affection as he delicately brushed a stray lock of hair from your face—a gesture he had done countless times before. "My sweet Briar, I implore you to forgive me for deceiving you. I wished nothing more but to know you," he pleaded.

Oh, with how loud your heart was pounding in your chest, you realized that you were irrevocably and hopelessly ensnared in a love story that had deviated far from the original story.

But you didn't feel a single ounce of regret.

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

#bts of writing this #malleus fell so hard on the first night #he gave gifts as a form of courting #cuz dragon instincts #also lilia the whole time was like “young people and their love issues” #✧1k! another life✦ #twstnexus #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst imagines #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #twisted wonderland malleus

[clownsuu]

g-good sir...y-your personified home....may i beseech a crumb or so 👉👈

Humanoid home is basically just a mass of shadow smhh (just like me fr fr)

cw poorly drawn guns/ kn//fe/ implied blo//d

Idk what the fart I’d call that au, all I know is my inspo came from those old “lvl 100 mafia boss lvl 1 rook” memes and the ol anime “Death Parade” (idk why I was thinking about it KDHFFHD I’m like half asleep atm)

#Welcome home #welcome home wally #welcome home howdy #welcome home julie #welcome home home #howdy pillar #wally darling #julie joyful #I need to be careful with aus #If I start making too many I’ll lose track and get all flustered again smhhh #Last one I drew is mostly just for shids n giggles I don’t really plan on doing anything with it #Though Tbf that’s like- all my aus JDHFHFHDJ #Welcome home mob au

[cillivnz]

𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑨𝑪𝑹𝑨𝑴𝑬𝑵𝑻

[𝘬𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘪]

PAIRING — PRIEST!NANAMI KENTO x NUN!READER

SYNOPSIS — you shift across continents hoping to leave all behind that drifted you apart from the Lord, only to catch the sole reason of your departure waiting for you patiently, with a rosary in one hand and his cock in the other.

WORD COUNT — 2878

WARNINGS — NSFW. MODERN AU. OOC!KENTO (kinda). RELIGIOUS IMAGERY, THEMES & RELIGION IN GENERAL. BLASPHEMY, sacrilege, impure thoughts, cursing, sins & sinning, sex in a church, indecent use of the confessional, DUBCON. oral (m! receiving), fingering, clit-play, biting, nipple/breast-play, unprotected and penetrative sex (p! in v!), overstimulation, against a wall (?), voyeurism, degrading. NANAMI HAS A GOD COMPLEX. there is repetitive mentions of religious themes throughout the smut, from praying to other things.

A/N — GOOD GOD. i’m asking you all for forgiveness, but i needed to do this. i intended it for leon kennedy but something in me snapped and i changed it to a nanami kento fiction, WHICH IS WHY THERE IS MENTION OF A CHRIS REDFIELD, i was too lazy to change it and also i didn’t want to incorporate too much from the JJKverse, so we’ll just leave Redfield at that.

i am NOT anti-religion, this is a common fantasy and i just wished to try my hand at this sinister trope. please refer to the warnings and DO NOT PROCEED if anything mentioned makes you uncomfortable. apologies in advance for any inaccurate detail written. not proofread.

art credits — unknown [pinterest]

LISTENING TO: ‘THE SACRAMENT’ — HIM

[therefore the title].

𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐊𝐘𝐎 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍’𝐓 𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐘, but you knew the Lord only wanted what was best for you, and so a new chapter in your life had begun.

A woman above materialism, you leave with only your bible and habit, but of course, you carried the last memory of your past life— a photograph your Sisters took of you and Father Redfield from your hometown, the church you had sworn celibacy to, near the Arklay Mountains.

You loved Chris— Father Redfield, the way you’d love the angels of the almighty, but at times this love prevented you from preaching, causing you to often ponder on your style of living, and the fact that doubt settled in your god-driven mind became the primary reason why you decided to move away, all the way to Tokyo.

Your feelings for Father Redfield made you question your vows to chastity, and you knew at once you needed to get away. So, you left the mountainous foliage at once and settled for the noisy city.

Upon arriving, you were welcomed by a ‘Sister Nobara”, with a soft face and piercing gaze, but none that lingered.

She walked you through the large and lonely halls of the massive church. The infrastructure of your hometown’s place of worship couldn’t compare to Tokyo’s, perhaps the difference in population was the reason why.

Throughout the walk to the nave, you felt an ominous sense of being watched— no, preyed upon, but you and your naïveté blamed it on your nerves. It worsened while you said your prayers, seeking forgiveness for the note on which you left: that doubt and urgency to succumb to hellish pleasures with the priest that couldn’t even reciprocate a smile back to you.

“Ah, there comes Father Kento,” Sister Nobara interrupted the last of your calls to the Lord, the one where you beseeched to attain enough strength to never succumb to lust. You quickly muttered a, “Amen”, and turned to Nobara. You looked at her for a brief moment, before your gaze followed hers and landed on the most devilishly handsome man you had ever seen.

Hell, you had to leave your home over a man who, now, you realise, isn’t even half as attractive as the man towering over you.

You backed away when the sudden proximity hit you, your subconscious mind immediately associating that eerie feeling in your gut with the presence of this man.

“Hello,” his deep voice broke the silence. “Greetings, Father,” you quickly averted your lingering stare onto the wooden floor. There was a stroke of amusement tainted in his tone, “Sister Nobara tells me you come from the Arklay Mountains.”

“She’s right,” you confirmed, still not eyeing him.

He nodded along, eyes still etched on your face.

“Father, if you could excuse me.” Sister Nobara suddenly spoke, causing you to look up at the departing woman. A “But—” was all you could mutter, before Kento put two-and-two-together and figured you sought out your quarters. “I don’t mind showing you around.”

“If it’s not too much trouble, Father.” You laughed, nervously, obvious to the subtle but definite bite of the Priest’s lower lip at the sound.

“No problem, follow me.”

The walk wasn’t as bad as you’d thought it to be; it was worse.

You couldn’t help but glance repeatedly at the seemingly older, definitely taller and the most handsome man you had ever dreamt of, and the fact that he hadn’t turned to look at you, nonetheless utter a single word, aggravated you.

He gracefully halted, and you knew you’d reached your quarters.

“There we are,” he announced, opening the door to let you in before him.

“It’s not much but—”

“It’s perfect.” You interrupted him with a warm smile, genuinely pleased with where you were to be stationed. Father Kento seemed pleased with your response, the small smile that broke out gave it away.

You instantly got to settling in, not that you had many things to place. Just your clothes, holy books and—

“Who is that?” Asked Father Kento the minute your hand reached for the framed memory.

“Father Redfield from the Arklay Church.” You spoke in monotone.

“Is he why you left?”

You didn’t have to answer.

The way you clutched the photograph tighter gave Nanami Kento all the answers he needed.

“Confessional is always open.”

“𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍.” The words rang in your ears, floating in the whirlpool of your disturbed mind throughout supper, and the fact that Father Kento was nowhere in sight was no solace. You decided to say, “Fuck it,” in a god-abiding way, and made your way over to the said confessional.

You step inside the wooden booth, steadying your breath you heard movement on the other side.

“Good evening, Sister.”

“I’m glad you obeyed me.” He said, seemingly in nonchalance, but you could picture a cocky smirk on his handsome face.

“Yes, father,” was all you could muster up.

“Tell me what’s on your mind.” He said so casually, yet compelling enough to get you to open up.

“You were right, Father Kento,” you sighed.

“It’s Chris—Father Redfield.”

“He’s, uh, the reason why I left.”

“Why would a man of the Lord drive you to that limit, Sister?” You heard that raspy voice of Father Kento’s inquire.

All you could muster up was a sigh. Talking about your feelings was something you’ve always struggled with, never there being a crucial need to do so, to redeem, like tonight.

“Because I would find myself thinking about him.”

“In what way?” Father Kento asked almost immediately, not wasting a breath.

“In impurity, lust, and love.”

The sigh on the other wooden end of the booth was almost unheard by you. “Describe them.” Father Kento broke the silence after a moment of halting. “W-what?”

“Describe your thoughts. What did you want to do with him?” You heard fiddling, but chose to ignore it.

“I would— would think about him and I, romantically. If and how things would’ve been different had we not chosen this life. Then, it was natural for excitement to settle in when he’d gently brush past me,” you oddly found yourself at ease, tranquil and nostalgic as you reminisce over the past.

“What about lust?” He interrupted in a tight voice.

“Uh,”

“I thought of his large, aged and veiny hands: grabbin—grabbing me, groping my… breasts…”

The ruffling on the other side silenced you, and when Father Kento noticed, he spoke in a stern tone, “Sister,”

“I need you to let it all out.”

So, you took a deep breath, and did exactly that.

You tell the priest how badly you’d grown accustomed to that ache between your thighs, how damp you would feel while merely observing the older man casually interact with the churchgoers; the tinge of bitterness that coursed through your veins, replacing the electricity that he’d often ignite, but now that you see him caressing the arm of another woman, much like the way he’d do to you, you’d find yourself unravelled in the sin of envy.

“I would find myself wanting to start a family with Father Redfield— by any means necessary. I would’ve wanted nothing more than to feel him inside me, carry his load inside me each night, sleeping in the warmth of his arms while his cum leaks out of me, still puffy and sore but in the need of more—”

You heard him groan.

He fucking groaned.

Your sinful ramblings would’ve persisted had the feeling in your gut not begged for you to shut the fuck up that very instance.

“Tell me, Sister,”

“Was it Father Redfield you felt such vulgarity for, or perhaps, just the thought of a superior— One with the Lord— indulging in you?”

You were speechless. Surely there was no insinuation in his sultry tone, right?

“I— I don’t know, Father.” You cleared your throat, thighs involuntarily rubbing together. You raised your palm to bite the back of it, softly, but enough to distract you. A habit you thought you had rid yourself of, but it still lingers.

“Oh, I think you do.”

Before you could deny the blatant accusation, your eyes land on Father Kento through the open wooden network.

You had now realised that this was the first time throughout your confession that you looked up— at him, and the sight awaiting you had caused you to clutch your rosary and gasp the first profanities you’ve dared to say in decades.

Father Kento sat on a ruby, velvet sofa, while his robe lifted up to his stomach. The first thing your eyes trail to is the smug, sinister look on his face, his slicked-back, disheveled hair, his glimmering eyes and pink lips. Then, his broad neck lacking the amice that is supposed to adorn it. Between his thick thighs, stood tall and angry the most vicious thing you’ve seen.

What made it worse was that he had a hand wrapped around the leaking tip, and in that very hand, was his rosary.

“Like what you see, Sister?” He called you out, and you immediately averted your gaze.

You looked to the ceiling, folding your hands and dropping to your knees.

“No, none of that.” Father Kento ‘tsk’ed at the sound of your prayers, making his way over to your side of the confessional.

“As pretty as you look while begging for mercy,”

“ 𝑰 ’𝑴 𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑮𝑶𝑫 𝑵𝑶𝑾. ”

He grabbed ahold of your joined hands, opening them just enough to wrap them around the girth of his cock.

“Pray,” he said, squeezing your cheeks together. When your mouth forcefully opened, he shoved his tip past your plump lips, and you instinctively allowed more inside.

“Good girl.” He groaned, motioning your hands back in forth on his cum-slick cock.

Blasphemy coursed through your blood and all thoughts and prayers left your mind, and you twirled your tongue around his cruel tip.

He growled, “You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” pushing back your veil and bandeau to let your hair out and grip it.

“Oh, you have no idea what a punishment the past few hours had been,”

“I’d been doing so good. ‘So good,” his voice was weak yet hoarse; he damn near lost his mind when he hit the back of your throat, biting back a whimper.

“I was on the path to salvation, but you,”

“You just had to show up and send me spiralling to hell.”

He plunged into your tight throat one last time, savouring the sight of your hollowed cheeks and plump lips wrapped around his shaft. You bat your long, thick lashes at him and his heart skips a beat when he looks into those doe eyes of yours.

“Get up,” he yanks you up by the arm.

“Strip.”

You were hesitant while bidding farewell to your attire, but there was unknown fervency in your movements.

Once bare, you couldn’t even look him in the eye.

“This is so wrong—”

“—But do you want it?” He asked, his was was stern and soft, his recollected breath made his velvety voice return.

“More than anything I’ve ever known.” You answered in all honesty; only truth came out of you in the home of the Lord.

There was a soft smirk on Father Kento’s face that widened into a genuine smile upon hearing your words. “Come here, then.” He motioned for you close the eternal gap between the two of you, and you nearly leaped into his arms, the distance growing unbearable.

Kissing you, tasting himself on you, Father Kento spoke in between kisses, “I don’t want a fucking word out of you, okay? You’re going to take cock quietly.”

“We want this to stay between us and God, yeah?”

You nodded, letting him corner you against the wooden box.

His eyes darted up to yours and then trailed down to your body. His frustration aggravated at the sight of you, and the fact that you’re the Lord— his master’s forbidden fruit heightens his senses with carnal instincts, making the Goddess in front of him even more insatiable.

“You know I’d have taken my time with you, right?” He nods, enchanting your dumb and dazed state to follow him.

“But you understand how badly I need to be inside you?” You nod, you need it, too.

“And you’ve sworn in celibacy?” He quirks an eyebrow, but the minute you felt the slightest touch of his fingertips along your velvety folds, you forgot all your vows at once.

“Answer me.” His voice carried a trace of humour, but stoic nonetheless, finding your clit and pressing his thumb onto it.

“Y-yes. Yes.” You bit down on your lip and the priest nearly lost it then and there. His free hand meets your face and tucks the pillowy lip out of your teeth’s grasp, stroking it back and forth.

His hand left your cunt, earning pathetic whimpers from you. It went back to his cock, jerking it a few times, leaving you mesmerised, before he gathered the slick that leaked out of the tip and smeared it onto your pussy.

“Prepping you.” He simply grunted, easing one finger into your tight hole. Your walls show hospitality and gladly accept the digit curling inside them.

You were a virgin, but masturbation wasn’t foreign to you.

“More,” you ached, and he obliged.

By the end of your aching heat, you had (barely) accustomed two of his long, slender yet thick fingers. The fervent circles of his thumb on your clit were torturous.

On the brink of your orgasm, spiralling into ecstasy, Father Kento pulled you out. Like a sinister saviour, he pulled you out of enlightenment.

“No! Please— Why?” You blabbered bullshit, too fucked out to care about anything but release.

“I told you I need to be inside you.” His voice was hoarse, the lust evident in his tone.

Watching you right on the edge of unravelling had him throbbing and twitching.

“I need to feel that tight cunt.” He was damn near hyperventilating. “Baby, I’ll go crazy.” He chokes out a sob when you grab his cock by the angry tip and align it with your hole.

He smiled at you, causing you to clench.

How was this blonde bastard so handsome?

Lifting you up with sheer ease, he let your legs wrap around his waist, your arms crossing over his neck, and his dick plunging into you, inch by inch.

You thanked God the tiny booth was tall, so you had enough space to let your head fall back without it touching the ceiling, courtesy of the man balls deep inside you, standing at 6’0.

The snug fit knocked the air out of both of you. Tears ran down your flushed cheeks like a hot spring, the passion with which he embraced you, devouring your warmth against the cold wood set every cell in your body ablaze.

“You’re so fucking— tight. ‘Hot, tight pussy squeezing so nicely around my cock.” Father Kento began pounding into you. Your legs had began to tremble already, but your vicelike grip on his waist and broad shoulders didn’t falter.

His fat cock fucked into you with desperation, the carnality of being wanted so much, so sinisterly by a man who had sworn chastity makes your soul quiver.

You’ll need to make one hell of an apology to the Lord.

As if reading your mind, the blonde priest spoke in a hoarse voice, “Pray.”

“For your sake and mine, you better fucking pray.”

So, you join your hands and close your eyes, bring Father Kento’s face closer to your chest. He closed his eyes, relishing in the feel of your soft breasts embracing his face like the pillowy clouds of heaven he’d never see.

With every thrust, your would slide up the wall, cunt gushing along his length. You said your prayers silently but couldn’t help letting out wanton cries when the tip of his cock would hit a certain spot inside you, and hit it repeatedly.

You were too far gone to hear him say, “Put it in my mouth,” not knowing what he referred to, until he hit the flesh right above your breast. You struggled to let go of his neck, but grabbed the supple flesh and lead it to his ravenous mouth, like a lamb being led to slaughter.

His hot mouth on your nipple; tugging, licking, circling, and nibbling. His cock inside you, fucking you at godspeed. Two of his fingers on your clit, rubbing maniacally; all had you coming undone in seconds.

“Oh, Kento!” You moaned pornographically, driving him to the point of release and insanity when the rhythmic contractions of your cunt pulsated around his twitching cock, and in mere seconds, Father Kento buried his seed deep inside you.

“Good god.” He groaned, parting with your nipple with a ‘pop’ and overstimulating you with slow, deep thrusts; his fingers never once leaving your clit.

“That—”

“—Needs another confession altogether.”

And so every night you’d find yourself cornered up in the confessional, apologising for same mistake you’ve been making every night, with the man whose forgiveness you beg for, on your knees, and repentance he delivers with a rosary in one hand and his cock in the other.

#kento nanami #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami smut #nanami kento x reader smut #kento x y/n #priest kink #hot priest #priesthood #sexy nuns #priest x reader #priest x reader smut #chris redfield #chris redfield x reader #sinner #jjk nanami #resident evil #priest!nanami #priest!kento #nun!reader #church #confess your sins #blasphemy #jjk cumslut <3 #anime and manga

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 89

Part 1 Part 88

Listening to only one side of the conversation would drive Eddie insane if he wasn’t already. It’s worse because he’s not sure if Steve is even answering back. If he even can. Supergirl’s just vague enough that he can’t tell if she’s just trying to reassure a silent, suffocating Steve.

What if he’s still there, just choking? But, no. That was the Upside-Down. Now that the thing is here in Steve, is he still there at all? Or is he trapped in the small corner of his mind that he has left?

Still, Eddie chokes out a wet laugh when El’s lips tick up as she says, “Eddie calls me Supergirl.” She’ll always be his Supergirl. Even if she can’t help this time. 

She looks so young, even with the eyeliner smudged all around her eyes and the slicked back hair. In her black trench coat she’s badass and metal and so goddamn small Eddie wants to throw up about it.  

She’ll always be Supergirl. It hangs over her brows as a weight she carries, a weight they keep adding onto with every plea for help. 

All that drifts away when she asks, “how do we help?” That’s not a question you ask someone who can’t answer. The wait  between words stretches beyond credulity for Eddie. Everyone’s looking at Steve like he’ll open his mouth and speak. 

It’s El’s voice that cuts in. Eddie gasps with it. “Make you warm?”

His neck hurts with the speed he turns his head to meet Will’s gaze. “He likes it cold,” Will whispers. “That’s what he said.” 

Eddie opens his mouth, ready to speak before he thinks, but then El says, “I will save you,” voice floaty, like she’s waking up from a dream. “Stay here while we come.”

El’s removing the half-assed blindfold from her eyes when Eddie looks back toward her, smiling softly as she says, “he recognized me.”

Eddie, knee walks toward her, desperate and wanting. He can feel a bit of glass stuck in his knee, but he doesn’t stop. Can’t. “Stay where?” he demands, hands out like he wants to shake El before he curls them into stupid, futile fists. “Is he okay?”

“He is where he is last time,” El says before raising her hand and tapping the top of Steve’s head gently, running her fingers through his hair as she says, “but in here.”

It takes Eddie a second to connect “last time” to anything tangible. As usual, Will beats him.

“He’s in his closet?”

El nods. “Yes, with clothes.” She runs her fingers through Steve’s hair one final time before dropping her hand and standing. “He said to make him warm.”

“And that’ll fix him?” It’s Perkins who answers, clearly done with being left in the dark. Eddie can’t blame her. 

El stands, staring at Steve the whole time. It takes her too long to answer. “No, he will come back.” 

“Who’s he?” Perkins demands. Everyone else already knows. It’s written in the silence. In the way the van’s so silent that no one is even breathing. “Hello?”

“Gotta break the connection. Close the gate,” Wayne says. He’s gruff and quiet, looking down at El like he’d rather be anywhere else than asking a little girl for a little salvation. “Can you do it?”

El meets his eyes. Eddie wants to hug her, or strangle her, or stuff them all into his trunk and flee the state and hope that’s enough to save them. But then El nods, walking out of the van with too much purpose for anyone to stop her. She turns back around, looking at all of them stuffed into the too-small van. 

“I will close the gate,” she says, looking from face to face to face before asking, “where is Hop?”

“Oh, sweetie,�� Mama Byers says, following her out of the van so she can engulf her in a hug El doesn’t return. “He was in the lab.”

El flinches back at the word “lab,” flinches back further when Lucas explains, halting and nervous about the Demodogs that had overrun it. Then something steals over her, resolves into a determination that shines. 

“I am going,” she says, ignoring Mama Byers beseeching hands as she turns and starts walking away, like she’s going to hike all the way there on foot. Frodo Baggins without even a Samwise Gamgee. 

Everyone flutters out of the van. Eddie stays by Steve and Will’s side,watching it all unfold. 

It’s Mike that gets her to stop because of course it is. “We’ll go with you!”

El turns around, hope shining in her eyes. Wayne cuts through it like a scalpel through vocal chords.

“No,” he says, quiet, but harsh enough to make El stumble back. Eddie can’t see his face, but his hands are raised placatingly in that same spooked horse stance he’d used a lot when Eddie first moved in with him, and then later, when Steve did, too. “None of ya kids are going with ‘er.”

All the kids protest except Max, who’s frowning between everyone, unsure of who’s side to stand on. 

“She can’t go alone!” Dustin says, putting his hands on his hips in a perfect imitation of Steve every time he’s on kid wrangling duty and fed up.

Wayne copies the stance, much more effectively at his stature, and replies, “I’m going with ‘er.” When Dustin opens his mouth to further complain, he turns away toward Barbara and asks, “don’t s’pose I can borrow your car?”

Barbara throws the keys toward him without a noise of complaint. Wayne walks toward El, looping his arm around her shoulders and leading her toward the car. “C’mon, kid,” he says, squeezing her into his side. “Gotta stop by the trailer for a couple a’ guns.”

El nods, looks back at them, meeting Eddie’s eyes to say, “keep him warm.”

Like the words break a spell on him, Eddie bolts from the van, tugging his connection on Steve to make sure he stays during their separation. Wayne almost loses his footing when Eddie barrels into his back, arms clutching at his chest tight enough to hurt.

“Stay safe, old man.”

Wayne huffs, reaching back to ruffle Eddie’s greasy hair. Eddie tucks his nose into Wayne’s neck, holds onto him for a second longer before letting go. 

Wayne doesn’t turn around, but he stands still just for a second, like he can still feel the warmth of Eddie’s arms. He sounds choked up when he says, “you too, son,” before walking away without turning back.

Eddie watches as the pair get in the car and drive away, feeling oddly bereft.

He’s got all these people now, who love him and he loves back. But Uncle Wayne was the first, always. 

He better come back. 

Part 90

Taglist: @deany-baby @estrellami-1 @altocumulustranslucidus @evillittleguy @carlprocastinator1000 @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @lunabyrd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @manda-panda-monium @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @ive-been-bamboozled @harringrieve @grimmfitzz @is-emily-real @dontstealmycake @angeldreamsoffanfic @a-couchpotato @5ammi90 @mac-attack19 @genderless-spoon @kas-eddie-munson @louismeds @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @pansexuality-activated @ellietheasexylibrarian @nebulainajar @mightbeasleep @neonfruitbowl @beth--b @silenzioperso @best-selling-show @v3lv3tf0x @bookworm0690 @paintsplatteredandimperfect @wonderland-girl143-blog @nerdsconquerall @sharingisntkaren @canmargesimpson @bananahoneycomb

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie upsidedown au #will byers #my fic #honestly closing the gate always seemed so much more obvious to me than the heat thing that i was always annoyed when the show had will #saying to do it in morse I was always just like...obviously...so I switched the two

[fayes-fics]

Coitus Mahemium

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, modern AU

Summary: Crack fic. Sex can result in injury, but you keep going anyway...

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, inebriation, vaginal sex, minor injury with blood, substance high, crack content.

Word Count: 0.8k

Author's Note: This is an anon request fill (from HERE) I got during Kinktober but held onto as it's pure crack. I'm dedicating this to a lovely friend, @chaoticcalzoneranchsports, who enjoys a bit of silly crack content as much as I do. <3

“Oh god, this feels so good…” you shudder, dragging yourself up and down in his lap forcefully, climbing towards orgasm.

“Fuck, I know….” he moans in your ear, hands wrapped around your bum cheeks, encouraging your bouncing, the vein in his neck pulsing hard as he, too, skates close to coming.

You didn't even make it off his sofa tonight; you both just tugged off your trousers, perhaps a touch inelegantly in your tipsy state, deciding to ride him right here.

You look down to watch his cock disappear between your legs, and he growls when he realises what you are doing. Unfortunately, the noise he makes has you snapping your head up just as he leans in….  And your noggin smacks hard into his face.

Benedict cries out and collapses back into the sofa cushions, his hands flying up to his face as he hisses.

“Shiiitttt! I'm so sorry!  Are you alright?!?” you fret, stilling your movements, unsure what to do. 

What is the correct etiquette here? Is it impolite for one to climb off a cock mid-fuck? Or is it more impolite to keep going after such a faux pas?

“I'm fine, I'm fine,” he assures, muffled behind his hands cupped over his mouth and nose.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.. please don't stop,” he implores, surging his hips up to indicate he wants you to keep going, even as he doesn’t remove his hands.

You start to move slowly, holding his shoulders, your brow knitted in concern.

“Show me,” you request quietly when his face looks oddly contorted, slowing your moves to a stop.

“Please, please don't stop. I really want this. So much,” Benedict campaigns again, almost whiny.

“I want this too, but…” you reach forward and pull away his hands, shrieking slightly in surprise.

His lip is spilt, and his nose is bleeding, his hands are covered in blood.

“Fuck Benedict! We need to get that seen to! You might need stitches!” you fret and start to climb off.

“No!!” he gruffs, grabbing your hips. “I'm fine, just please, please. We can go to A&E… later,” he pulls you back down onto his cock, still impressively rock hard.

“Later?!” you echo in disbelief.

“Yes, look… fuck I want to come so bad, please…. just please…” he beseeches, pouting in a way that would look adorable, were it not the cause of another pulse of blood to appear.

“Benedict… I can't fuck a bleeding man…” you sigh, even as he attempts to do it himself, rocking his hips.

“Yes, you can!” he cries desperately, “just okay, look, wait….” He twists and reaches to the side table and grabs a box of tissues, quickly stuffing one up each nostril and jamming one between his lips. “There, all better…” he argues, muffled, even as they turn pink. 

“Ben…” he looks utterly ridiculous, and you can't help the tipsy giggle that bubbles up at the absurdity of the situation.

“Ha! See?! You can see the funny side,” he contends, waggling a finger at you even as he rocks into you. You just stare at him with fond exasperation. “Please, y/n, pretty pretty please. I can't go to A&E with an erection and a bloodied face. That will just cause all sorts of questions. I don't want to be a doctor's anecdote. Think about it; you are actually doing me a favour here…” he wheedles, pulling that puppy-dog expression.

He has a point.

You shake your head affectionately, then start to move. He crows triumphantly, and his hands grab your bottom, smearing traces of blood onto your shirt where it hangs low.

“You don't think they will have questions that I have bloody handprints over my bum?” you point out sardonically with a groan, his cock so good, you are already right back to pleasure.

“You have a great arse; they will just assume I grabbed it to deal with the anxiety of my injuries,” he ripostes with panted breath.

“My arse is not a stress toy, Bridgerton!” you dispute, gusting each word as you climb towards ecstasy.

“It's a bloody fantastic one,” he lobbies back cheekily, “quite literally tonight…” he adds drolly, raising a comedic eyebrow.

You can’t help another giggle even as you ride harder, both of you groaning loudly now as you slam onto his cock, both so eager to come.

—

Half an hour later, the triage nurse raises an eyebrow as she clocks the large bloody handprints on the shirt-tails hanging over your bum and the blissed-out look on Benedict’s face. In hindsight, perhaps giving him some leftover codeine you found in his bathroom cabinet before you ordered the taxi to come here was not such a good idea after all. 

He’s now high as a damn kite.

“I use her arse as a stress toy,” he offers sincerely by way of explanation to the nurse, then lolls his head and shoots you a goofy grin.

“Clearly…” she deadpans.

“She’s so lovely; she made sure I didn’t have an erection, too,” he continues, confessional on the mix of alcohol and painkillers.

You slump your head into your hands as he reaches out and pats your shoulder haphazardly.

Yeah… Great way to avoid being an anecdote, Bridgerton.

No taglist as this is goofy silliness.

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton crack #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton smut #bridgerton crack #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n

[ranaewawa]

Heres the full collection

#evillious chronicles #cotl #cult of the lamb #beseech au #cotl narinder #cotl lamb #cotl heket #cotl kallamar #cotl leshy #cotl aym #cotl shamura #seven crimes and punishments

[peachdues]

The Bitter & the Sweet — a steamy snippet

Rengoku x F!Ice Pillar — Secret Pregnancy AU

A/N: I’m ovulating so here y’all go.

A snippet of the✨first time✨ between Rengoku and the Ice Pillar in The Bitter & the Sweet. It takes place after their surprise first kiss (which I won’t spoil here — at least, not yet)

CW: suggestive/steamy, but I’m not giving y’all the NSFW stuff yet.

Y/L/N, it seemed, had either made good on her threat to roast her crow, or she’d temporarily fired the bird.

The one which now circled above Kyojuro’s head appeared to await his acknowledgement, but as he began walking, the crow began to fly ahead, beseeching him to follow. His curiosity got the better of him, as did his desire to see the Ice Hashira once more, and so, he obliged and followed the sleek bird.

Kyojuro was led up a small, winding path past the Ice Pillar’s estate. Though it was nearly midnight, the path, laid with smooth white stones, was gently lit by a line of flickering torches that he could see tapered off before the path emptied into some kind of clearing. As he drew closer to the path’s end, Kyojuro could smell the faintest traces of the floral notes he only ever associated with the beautiful Ice Hashira.

The end of the path opened to reveal an intricate spring of interconnected pools, connected with rocky formations that appeared to be hewn from moonstone. The spring enjoyed a fair degree of privacy thanks to the thick grove of red cedar trees which encircled it, with the clearing in which Kyojuro now stood being the only entry to and from the heated spring.

The pools themselves looked like something out of a dream. Thick tendrils of steam rolled of the shimmering, sea-green water, and Kyojuro found himself longing to feel the hot water soak into his muscles.

A cursory glance over the spring had Kyojuro’s heart leaping to his throat; for there, standing in the middle of the luminescent turquoise water, was the Ice Pillar herself.

Her back was turned to him, but it was clear as day that the crow had led him right to her while she was in the middle of bathing.

Kyojuro felt a heat rise in his cheeks that had nothing to do with the steamy waters, as his eyes roamed the exposed skin of her shoulders, the water concealing the rest of her beneath its shimmering depths.

Mouth dry, the Flame Pillar made to move away, to get as far from the Ice Hashira’s private bathing spring as he could before she became aware of his presence, but her lilting voice stopped him in his tracks.

“I thought that might be you.”

Kyojuro’s traitorous feet would not move from his spot as Y/L/N rose from the water. Though his eyes immediately fixed themselves on anything but the nude woman — goddess — standing in the middle of the pool, Y/L/N made no effort to cover herself.

“Please, forgive me, Y/L/N, I had no idea-“

“Kyojuro,” she interrupted, her voice soft but sultry. “Please. Join me.”

Kyojuro wondered if it were possible for his heart to have lodged in his throat. He tried, so very hard, to keep his eyes focused on Y/L/N’s face, but his treacherous gaze dropped to what the water had been concealing from him.

At the first sight of the generous swells of her breasts, and the sensual dip of her waist, her skin glistening from the water, Kyojuro was a goner.

Wordlessly, his hands removed his haori and began fumbling with the buttons of his uniform. Though Kyojuro would consider himself fluid and graceful in battle, he found that here, under the heady stare of the Ice Pillar, his movements had become jerky and impatient.

He tried not to let the flush on his face show as Y/N’s stare lowered as Kyojuro shucked his pants down his legs, exposing his hardening member to the warm spring air, but the answering blush that spread across her cheeks as her eyes traced his length had him nearly trembling with desire. Finally freed of the constraints of his uniform, the Flame Pillar stepped from the smooth stones that formed steps down into the hot spring pool.

Kyojuro nearly groaned at the way the steaming water soaked into his aching muscles, the healing properties of the spring working quickly to ease the tension he’d not realized he’d been carrying. The relaxing heat of the spring, however, did little to ease the growing hardness below his navel, and the Flame Pillar found himself grateful for depth of the water.

Slowly, and somewhat shyly, he made his way towards the waiting Ice Pillar. Every step closer to her allowed the details of her exposed body come into focus, setting Kyojuro’s skin on fire.

When he was within an arm’s length of her, he stopped, his eyes fixed on hers.

“You kissed me,” she said simply, her head tilting as she considered him.

Kyojuro tried to swallow around the lump in his throat, but found it impossible given how dry his mouth had become. “Yes, I did, and I apologize, Y/L/N. I was just so relieved -“

“Would you like to kiss me again?” Y/N’s question made his nervous ramblings evaporate from his tongue.

It took him a moment to gather himself enough to respond. “Yes,” he breathed, and Y/L/N took a step towards him, a small smile spreading across her beautiful mouth. “Yes, I would like that very much.”

Kyojuro could not suppress the shiver that coursed through him as he felt Y/L/N’s skin brush against his upper abdomen as she pressed her lithe, heavenly body against him, her eyes dropping to his lips.

“Then you may,” she whispered, tilting her face for him as she waited.

His hands rose hesitantly to rest against her waist, and Kyojuro shuddered at the smooth warmth of her skin beneath his palms.

His dreams had mostly revolved around what it would be likely to simply hold the Ice Pillar in his arms — to press her against his chest as her arms wrapped around his middle, and to be able to brush his lips against hers, softly — teasingly.

But there had been a handful of dreams in which Kyojuro had done far more with the vexatious, beautiful woman, dreams that had reduced him to a sweating mess in his futon, left his heart pounding as his eyes flew open the moment his dream-self would sink into her molten heat. Those dreams had always unsettled him, not merely because he woke up embarrassed for having thought of his comrade in such a lascivious manner; but also because of the gnawing pit of frustrated want those dreams left him with once he awoke.

Besides, Y/L/N had long since been elevated in his mind from that of a mere ‘comrade.’ She had become something far more precious to him.

Kyojuro mused that not even his wildest fantasies about the Ice Pillar could have prepared him for the real thing: for the woman, peering up at him through long, thick eyelashes as she leaned to press her bare torso against his, the water parting around them as as they came together, a matching blush spreading across both of their faces. His dreams had not done her justice, not in the slightest; they had failed to capture the exquisite plushness of her breasts as they pressed against his upper abdomen, or the way her soft floral scent combined with the thick tendrils of steam rising from the water’s surface until his head had been utterly fogged by her.

As he began to close the distance between their lips, Kyojuro was reminded that his reality was far superior to his reveries.

don’t worry, i’ll give y’all plenty of smut before I rip your hearts out

#demon slayer #rengoku kyojuro #kimetsu no yaiba #kny x reader #kny #kny fanfic #demon slayer fic #kyojuro rengoku #kny rengoku #kimetsu rengoku #rengoku x y/n #rengoku kyojurou #rengoku kyoujurou #kny smut #demon slayer smut

[wellnoe]

This is aperture au: an AU made up by Will (@boo-cool-robot, who did most of the plot and writing) and me (visuals) where Magneto takes a teen Scott in before Xavier, and Scott’s subsequent radicalization causes him to undergo a schism with x-men leader/lover jean after he eventually joins the team. Because if you really love characters, you just want them to have an ideological divorce! 

The au is named after the code-name scott is given by magneto, which he returns to after the events of this comic (Aperture–like an opening for light to pass through, a focus in a lens.) 

[Image description: Full color comic. Whole comic has a layout where each page has 3 columns. Jean is in the left column, and scott is in the right.

Page 1

Panel 1: Scott and Jean explore a grim, industrial, apparently abandoned basement lab. Jean inspects a peeled back vent cover. Scott bends down to open a filing cabinet drawer. Jean: "This is too clean to have been opened by a crowbar. Almost looks like how I would have used my TK a few years ago."

2: Scott leans back, back of his fist to his mouth in shock. He says: "Marvel Girl, you need to see this. Use my eyes. Please."

3: Jean turns, using her telepathy to look at the file Scott has found. Her telepathic eyes see what he sees. There is a Polaroid of young Scott and Alex. Alex smiles at the camera, while Scott holds his brother and glances away. Alex's file describes him as 'Yearly tag and release'.

The other page in the file has a letterhead reading “Home for Foundlings” and a logo depicting an abstract parent and child, forming a red diamond shape. Cut-off text reads, “Summers, Scott/Seong-Mi/S-...Impaired expressive speech and sound sensitivity worsened after 3 days of social ostracism from peers…electroconvulsion. Energy generation potential unaffected. Continued social impairment, likely auti…”

Scott has already turned toward a door, frowning. 

4: Jean puts a comforting hand on Scott’s shoulder while he turns away from her. Scott (Telepathically): "I used to remember having a brother. He told me I was just confused, that I’d imagined him." Jean (Telepathically): "Who told you that?"  Scott reaches to open the door. Scott (Out loud): "I don’t know, it was all…"

5: Scott, quietly: "Sinister."

They have stepped through into the next room, where Mister Sinister’s silhouette looms in the foreground, breaking the barriers between the three columns. Jean puts her arm out in front of Scott to shield him. Scott has shrunk in on himself. 

Page 2:

Panel 1: Scott has his arms crossed. Jean, glowing with telepathy, puts a hand next to Mister Sinister’s head where he lies between scott and jean. Jean: "He can’t hear us. He’s in some kind of psionic trance. His body is here, but his mind is on the Astral Plane."

2: Scott: "So he’s vulnerable." Jean is startled: " What?" Scott: "We could end him here. Before he gets to-- anyone else. Before he gets to Alex again." 

3: Jean’s telepathy flares, she is confused, but stubborn. Jean: "We’re X-Men, we can’t just kill someone defenseless. We won’t get anything out of him if he’s dead." Scott faces her, angry and disbelieving. Scott: "You really think if you [Telepathically: implicate, integrate] ask him, he’ll say anything that those files out there don’t?"

A figure approaches through the open doorway, obscured by Jean and Scott’s world bubbles.

4: Jean’s telepathy flare is the strongest yet. She is hurt, beseeching. she says: "The Professor taught us to give people chances. He gave you a chance when you joined the team." Scott is quietly angry. Scott: "Maybe if he were smarter, he wouldn’t have. You wouldn’t–..." Jean:  "Are you saying you shouldn’t be here with me?" 

 The figure gets closer, raising a board to her shoulder. 

5: The figure is revealed to be madelyne pryor, wearing the marvel girl dress, as she swings a board at Sinister’s head. She hits him with a “KRAK”. Telepathy flares out from Sinister’s form and from the panel as he’s hit. Jean and Scott watch her, Jean’s mouth open in shock, her telepathic eyes watching from Scott's eyes as well, while Scott looks untethered.

Page 3: Mads is in the middle column.

Panel 1: Jean and Scott reach their hands out towards Mads. Mads has her hands up in front of her. They are all frozen in place. Scott [Telepathically]: "Who is she?"

Mads [TP]:  "I can hear them."

Jean [TP]: "She looks like me." Mads [TP]: "I was supposed to be her."

Scott [TP]: "She killed him. That could have been Jean." Jean [TP]: "Scott thinks it should have been me." 

2: Mads flees past Scott, who is still frozen. Jean turns as Mads runs, half reaching out toward her. Mads [TP]:  "I can’t be her. I can’t be here." The thoughts become disjointed, unattached from the people who are thinking them, hanging in the air of the room.

3: Scott runs after Mads. The unattached thoughts begin to fill the space between him and Jean: "I can’t be her, That could have been me, I can’t be here". Jean watches Scott, frozen in place, and starts to cry. Telepathic energy comes off her in waves. Scott [TP]: "That could have been Jean."

"I can't be here" repeats until it goes through the bottom of the panel and into the next panel. 

4: Jean is still frozen, crying. Her hands are pressed to her head as she is crowded by the telepathic thought bubbles surrounding her. She gets stuck on bubbles repeating over and over:

"I can’t be here, I can’t be here, I can’t be here."

Page 4:

Panel 1: Jean is still surrounded by thought bubbles. She reaches into the middle pane and tears a black rip through it, telepathically and with her hands. Her head and hands flare with telepathy. The edges of the rip burn like fire. She is still crying, angry. 

2: Thought bubbles disappear. Jean’s head is snapped back by the force of telepathic feedback. The black rip spreads wider, telepathic flame at edges, continuous with the previous panel.Scott, chasing Mads outside the lab, trips forward. Both Jean and Scott are losing control of their bodies, falling.

3: Jean and Scott both fall to the ground, unconscious, as the rip in the page spreads wider. 

4:  Black/end id]

#scott summers #jean grey #x men #boo-cool-robot #long post #my art #w.me #this took so long to do but it turned out good i think! the au is very fun

[mrs-illyrian-baby]

A Prince's Claim | Prince Loki's Favourite Maid AU | Loki x Reader | Drabble 800 words

Thor makes a scene in the banqueting hall and Loki stakes his claim to you.

Warnings: sort of angsty sort of fluffy, possessive Loki, references to d/s relationship

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist | Prince Loki's Favourite Maid AU | Loki Masterlist

You knew your arrangement would get you in trouble, it was inevitable, he had seen you and you'd seen the pain in his eyes, the fear he felt emanating across the banqueting hall. His. That's what he'd said. Only to work his rooms, only to serve him even if there were others. But what could you do? Prince Thor had requested more mead and as desperately as you'd sought for your Prince in that moment he wasn't there to stop his brother from asking.

So you complied, pouring from the jug into the huge goblet and stepping back respectfully. But Prince Thor called you back, examining the pearl buttons on your uniform, the silk, the eyelash lace brushing against the exposed skin on your chest.

"Maid, this uniform, who gave this to you?"

You stuttered unsure while his hand reached out to touch your apron, bright white against the pitch black dress, you had jewellery on, delicate gold around your neck.

"Do what I say, come here and tell me who gave you this!"

You took a slow step forward, clutching the glass pitcher hard enough to make your knuckles hurt.

"This isn't a palace uniform. Who are you?" He looked angry now, a glint of fear in his eyes "I asked you a question. Who are you? Who do you work for?"

"For, the Palace, I work, I work for-"

"Liar" he roared, towering over you, your knees buckled as the pitcher in your hands crashed to the floor, the amber mead splashing up your legs "who do you work for!"

"Prince Loki" you cried, hands over your face "I'm Prince Loki's, please, I work for him, I'm his"

Thor takes a step back "Loki? Loki doesn't have any of his own servants. Loki?"

Behind him Loki entered the banqueting hall, taking in the shocked silence of the court, the expanse of his brother's back and the small black and white ball of fabric on the floor at his feet.

"Brother, this isn't the usual merriment that follows you. What's wrong?"

Thor whipped round and eyed his brother back "this little spy says she was sent by you" he pointed down at the bundle of fabric.

"Please, Prince Loki, I'm not a spy!"

"Kitten?" He pushed past the blonde, a flash of green magic making Thor stumble "What have you done to her you great oaf" he snapped, eyes never leaving yours. Harsh as he words were his eyes were soft, concerned.

"I did nothing, why is this little Maid above her station!? What have you done?" Thor clenched his teeth to hiss at Loki, the rest of the hall staring on silently.

"I've done nothing more than give her my favour" he swept you back to your feet, tucking you behind him so he could turn back to Thor.

"Oh I see now, it's your little Pet from last week. She had sharper claws back then!" He joked making you flush, the memory of that evening, the ears and tail Loki had gifted you for the night. Your little collar still tight around your neck.

Loki's formal attire bunched under your hands as you pressed yourself against his back, forehead in the curve of his spine to hide your face. This was even more degrading than before. All he'd done before is given you a little squeeze under your apron as you poured his drinks. But this. Prince Thor's shouting, the scorching tears marking your face, this was humilation.

The only way to defend yourself, for Loki to defend you, was to admit that this was his idea, his uniform, his rules and you'd happily complied. That in the heat of your arousal you had become his little doll to dress up and toy with, his plaything.

"Thor, brother, I would beseech you to have some decorum infront of our guests, you have also upset the lady" Loki looks around the room at the assembled Court. Thank goodness their mother isn't here. Each guest stares for a second before turning away, looking anywhere but at the Princes. Then he turns to you, wrapping you up in his cape, tucking you under his arm and against his side.

"Lady?" Thor scoffs.

Loki's demeanor is cold, despite the warmth of his embrace.

"Yes, Lady" Loki demands. Thor takes him in, his mischievous brother who has never taken another person seriously in his life. The hard line of his mouth, no longer smiling or teasing and the caress of his hands against the bare arms of the little Maid, a small gold chain glinting under the lace of her collar.

"Oh, brother, you have fa-"

"We're done here, Thor. I'll see you tomorrow, in the stables? Until then" his arm tightened at your waist, sweeping out of the hall murmering his own apologies as he ushered you back to the safety, the solitude and privacy of his chambers.

#Loki #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki marvel #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #loki/reader #loki x reader #loki/you #loki x you #loki x female reader #Female reader #loki/female reader

[petrichorium]

BAM: Empty Beds

in which king gojo satoru returns from a diplomatic mission to find his bed empty, and has qualms with it

gojo satoru x fem!reader

word count: 3k reader: fem (she/her pronouns, fem terms, fem clothing including dresses) tags: kinda hurt/comfort but mostly fluff, royal au, childhood friends to lovers, gojo picks up the reader, the end is a little bit intense emotionally but not super bad the reader just has intimacy issues and gojo confronts her abt it

usurper!gojo tag || masterlist

“embrace me,” he orders, muffled against your throat. it’s sullen, demanding, and you make no move to comply.

your husband whines wordlessly at you—it’s that noise which calms the tumultuous unease within you, an assurance that whatever mood he’d been in is quickly passing (or that your touch is so important he’ll cast aside any other thoughts in favor of pleading with you). he kisses up your throat, along your jaw, only to nose against your cheek like some affectionate cat. when he speaks it’s a beg; beseeching. “embrace me, wife.”

“talk to me, husband,” you retort. “your sulking is bad for my health. i was terrified.”

against your skin, his lips quirk into a teasing smile. “you’re adorable when you’re terrified.”

Someone has slipped into your room.

You’re asleep. You have been for hours, yet Satoru’s borderline paranoid insistence on you learning to defend yourself even while resting have led to a far less deep manner of slumber, and so you’re roused by the simple sound of the door opening and are made aware of this unwelcome visitor the moment they enter.

It’s all you can do to keep still, even out your breath. Your mind conjures thoughts of your guards slaughtered just beyond your door, your maids and your ladies-in-waiting massacred in your vast array of rooms meant to be a sanctuary, your king returning home from his diplomatic trip east to find your own body not even in your shared bed but in the lonely one occupying the queen’s bedchamber, yours in name but so rarely used.

You hear the figure’s footsteps approach you; they sound large, imposing, though you dare not open your eyes until the ornate dagger beneath your pillow is in hand and the possible assassin close enough that it can do you any good.

Your fingers find the heavy hilt, wrap around it securely just as the mattress beneath you dips with the weight of the trespasser. The motions are ingrained in your body from weeks of practice with your husband; you lash out, knife against the intruder’s throat before they can realize you’re not asleep, aiming to slash at the throat—but then you pause, thankful that you’d opened your eyes to see the face of your attacker before you spilled their blood.

“Satoru?”

Hardly an assassin at all, your visitor is your husband, back far earlier than anticipated. He looms over you in silence, one knee braced on your bed against your side, arms hovering where they’d been prepared to embrace you but frozen by the blade you hold against his neck. His damned blindfold remains tied over his eyes preventing you from knowing where they might be focused or what they might reveal of his thoughts.

“Wh—you’re not expected to return until tomorrow evening.” You remove the knife from his neck. Immediately, those hands are on you, tugging your covers away to pull you to him. “You frightened me, I believed you to be an intruder.”

Still no answer. For a moment, you feel him breathe you in, certainly allowing himself to bask in your presence after weeks without. But then, in one swift motion, wielding that stunning strength which has left armies in ruin, he slings you over his shoulder and starts for the door.

“What are you doing?” you shriek, squirming in his grasp. “Put me down!”

It wasn’t as if you thought he’d do it. But you at least expected a response; your king is nothing if not loquacious (and you hardly say so praisingly) yet he remains stubbornly silent even with your struggling form in hand as he passes through your doorway. Your guards stand alert just beyond your door, averting their gaze regretfully as if unwilling to meet your eye. You can hardly blame them, for it isn’t as if one can refuse a king—in fact, considering moments before you’d thought them dead by your assassin, you’re a little relieved to see them alive and well—yet the gesture feels too little too late.

“My king—husband,” you try, breathless, because reminding Satoru that you are bound to him for the rest of your lives never fails to make him preen, “what on earth has gotten into you?”

No avail. Not even so much as an arrogant laugh at stealing his own queen from her bed. You’re insulted at first; even your desperate attempts to free yourself don’t spark any form of response beyond a tightening of his arm around your waist. Insult gives way to concern the longer it goes, as he leaves your bedchamber and all but sprints through the intricate series of rooms which make up the queen’s chambers. The first time he passes by a room you know to be occupied by one of your ladies-in-waiting you decide that your valiant struggles aren’t worth rousing every maid and courtier you’ve allowed to take up residence with you. You’d rather they not see your husband’s indecent displays. This, at least, has occurred so late in the night that even if one were to open their door they’d likely be too groggy to understand what they might witness, and there is so little in the way of light that they might not even be able to see a thing.

At least your newfound resignation allows you to appreciate certain things your previous efforts had made you miss—you’re so enamored by his strength, his agility, and it’s admittedly thrilling that he’s so capable of manipulating your form with such ease. An inappropriate appreciation, certainly, but you’re coming to terms with how inappropriate everything about him is. And if you cannot allow yourself to enjoy how your usurper husband can steal you from your bed then you’re not altogether certain what the point of marrying him would have been.

He turns down the corridor leading to the door that connects to the king’s chambers and it suddenly seems to make sense: he’s bringing you back to his room, to his bed, where he’s insisted upon you spending your nights despite the absurdity of such a thing (not that you mind entirely, not that you aren’t flattered by his unabashed infatuation with you even all these months after you’ve wed). The room in which you’d slept during his absence had been used as more of a dressing room than one for rest, yet it had felt too odd to be sleeping in your king’s room without him present and had moved there after the first night. And you’d expected to be awake for his return, not for him to show up nearly a day early long before sunrise.

The mirrored halls, labyrinthine as your own, are empty; he hasn’t filled them as you have, not yet, though at times he receives visitors you recognize as his fellow conspirators from his coup. To an extent you appreciate the privacy it allows, and he remains so confident in his own abilities that he doesn’t bother excessively with guards. It’s hardly an undeserved confidence, either. His height is so towering that he’s forced to duck beneath the doorframe to his bedroom in order to ensure you don’t hit your head on the top. Once the threshold is crossed it’s as if his whole body breathes a sigh of relief; tense muscles relaxing, grip on you becoming less fervent and more adoring.

Satoru throws you to the bed with little ceremony. He spares a single moment to rip the blindfold from his face and toss it into some unknown corner of the room and then joins you hastily, hands upon you again in an instant, throwing the covers over the pair of you as he tangles his legs with yours, buries his face into your shoulder, and lets out the first noise you’ve heard from him in weeks—a sigh, sweet and self-satisfied, which rumbles in his chest and somehow reassures you.

The way he cradles you is halfway to suffocating, as if he were attempting to burrow into you simply to be closer, and between the silence and the manhandling you think you might have been terrified if not for how gently he carried you. It’s contradictory, certainly, yet despite snatching you from your bed with little regard for your wishes his hands had been so tender with you, as if you were some delicate thing to be handled with care. Even now you can feel he’s being cautious, deliberate with how much of his weight he puts on you and careful not to give you too much. You find yourself endeared by that, almost compelled to melt into him with the upwell of fondness that rushes through you and dizzies your mind.

Except that you’re still not willing to give him what he wants, not if he’s continuing to be so obstinate. You can’t find a reason for his stalwart lack of speech other than pettiness; it’s normally a trial of perseverance to get the man to silence himself. So you remain still beneath him, denying him his desires and refusing to return the embrace, rather choosing to lie limp as he holds you.

He groans in annoyance, lifting himself up to stare down at you yet still not verbalizing anything. His hair is long enough that it brushes against your face like this, mere inches away, and even in the imposing inky black of the enormous bedchamber beyond his eyes seem to catch on the most fleeting light and almost gleam from within.

One of his hands removes itself from where it was shoved beneath your back to find your wrist and drop your own on the back of his head. You let it fall, raising one eyebrow in simultaneous question and challenge that you can only hope he can see as clearly as you can see the exasperation in his eye—along with something else, something notably more desperate. Feral.

You don’t censor yourself despite that, pushing forward to explain yourself. “You’re grown, my king. You can speak rather than silently demanding things of me.”

Satoru’s eyes are drawn to your moving lips, the ice within them thawing and giving way to easy veneration. His lower lip pouts. His head falls back down and he nuzzles into you as his hold on you tightens.

“Embrace me,” he orders, muffled against your throat. It’s sullen, demanding, and you make no move to comply.

Your husband whines wordlessly at you—it’s that noise which calms the tumultuous unease within you, an assurance that whatever mood he’d been in is quickly passing (or that your touch is so important he’ll cast aside any other thoughts in favor of pleading with you). He kisses up your throat, along your jaw, only to nose against your cheek like some affectionate cat. When he speaks it’s a beg; beseeching. “Embrace me, wife.”

“Talk to me, husband,” you retort. “Your sulking is bad for my health. I was terrified.”

Against your skin, his lips quirk into a teasing smile. “You’re adorable when you’re terrified.”

“I nearly slit your throat.”

“With the knife I gifted you.” The words are crooned, a bit covetous; you wonder sometimes, when he says such things in such ways, about his sanity. You don’t think the phrase madly in love has applied to anyone more than him, though you might be just as deranged as he for how you adore it. “I wouldn't have let you, though. It’s sweet of you to worry,” his hands tighten swiftly where they rest against your skin, pinching hard enough to make you jump before releasing, “but you’re still no match for me.”

“No?”

“No.” He kisses you without pulling away, lips brushing past your cheek to press passionately against yours. “Though I’d very much like to see you try.”

You speak your response into his mouth, refusing his silent attempts to deepen the kiss. “You haven’t yet apologized for frightening me.”

Huffing at you, he removes his arms from your body and pushes himself up to hover over you again. He stays like that, staring intently as if simply watching you will suffice for what you’re demanding. You let him at first—then as the seconds pass grow tired of waiting, and open your mouth to pester him again only to be silenced by his own.

It’s fast, there and then gone, too quick for you to respond. He so likes those kisses, a perfect way to keep you quiet, but tonight he isn’t satisfied with it; he does it again when you inhale, then once more afterwards though you haven’t even indicated any further intent to speak. And then he moves on, pressing lips to your nose and your cheekbones and your forehead, dotting them across the bridge of your nose and along your jaw, featherlight and relentless.

He refuses to let up, covering your face with kisses as if to make up for each one he’d have given you if he’d been here. You attempt to dodge, out of sheer obstinacy, but he doesn’t allow you to. So you change course, lift your hands to embrace him as he’d begged you before—yet he catches you, using a single grip to pin both above you as his ministrations expand and he presses kisses to your neck, down your throat, along your collarbone.

“Imagine you’re me, hmm?” he murmurs, words barely comprehensible through his affections. “Lamenting after weeks without your company, rushing home faster than my party simply to see you sooner, arriving to my chambers expecting to find my darling wife awaiting my return”—he pulls up suddenly, heedless to your discontented whimper at the loss of his touch which peeters off the moment you see the way he’s looking at you; that feral tinge has returned to his eye, infused into the soft devotion he always regards you with—”only to find my bed empty, my exquisite queen missing. How might you feel, do you suppose?”

He's always been loose with his compliments but something about the way he says them now, so matter-of-factly and laced with a seriousness so uncharacteristic of him rather than a teasing tone, makes your face burn. Still you respond, unwilling to let the question stand unanswered. “Ah… concerned, I’d imagine.”

“Concerned?”

“Distressed. Fearful of misdeed.”

“You frightened me, too, then, did you not?”

“I apologize. You weren’t supposed to be back tonight, I hadn't thought there was any harm in it. But I'm safe, and I'm here with you now.”

He blinks. For a moment you wonder if he’ll really apologize now—a foolish thought, you know your king better than that. Instead he pushes on. “Now consider that you leave your chambers, and you demand to know where she is, only to be told that she has refused to sleep in your bed and has instead insisted upon taking residence in an entirely different room. What then? Tell me, my love, what is so wrong with this bed?”

You swallow thickly, watch his eyes dart down to the bob of your throat before returning. He lifts an eyebrow in expectation, but your mouth is so dry you can’t find it within you to say what he wants to hear. Both wrists still held in his grip, he rubs his thumb against one, quietly contemplative as he scans your face—and this, you decide, is too much. You turn away, hiding your face, unable to take the way he peers at you.

“Why do you still pull away?” It’s barely audible. In fact you wonder if the question is meant for you at all, or if it had been entirely for him. His free hand comes to your face, gentle as it cradles your cheek and turns you towards him, forcing you to meet his stare. This time his words are undoubtedly for you. “Have I… misinterpreted? Is this truly too much? You say it is, call me too bold, but you never insist upon it. You seem happy and yet the moment you have time away from me you run, behind my back. You know I would do anything for you, yes? Even… let you go? If that is what you want.”

You can’t find the words to reply right away, can’t parse it all out within you fast enough. You realize quite suddenly that you’ve been unfair—selfish, even—in your passing acceptance of his pursuits. Simply because that has been easy, simply because it would be difficult to be even a fraction as bold as he. Simply because you do like his boldness, and you do like the way he chases you, and he does it so relentlessly that you’ve never found it necessary for you to return it. You’d have to retrain yourself to speak candidly, to reach out for his touch, and even behind closed doors such things are arduous. Yet now you see it—now he lets you see it, the chip in his armor, the one you’ve caused with your avoidance, the one you have the ability to mend. And you decide that you will.

The time that it takes to think all of that through, however, is too much. Satoru pulls back; his hand releases yours, his head turns away, his eyes no longer visible. It’s panic that makes you move, panic caused by the way his body turns to remove itself from you. In all the time you’ve spent with him since the coup he’s never pulled away like this.

You hook your leg over him, yanking him back down and clumsily swapping your positions. He lays in bed now, eyes wide with surprise as he stares up at you, and you straddle him with hands bracing yourself on his chest. The kiss you give him is an attempt to find peace of mind but it hardly works—too desperate to prove him wrong with your actions, too caught up in the sensations, your mind fogs. At least he kisses back, hands finding home on your thighs and pulling you close as he melts, though that’s perhaps part of the problem.

The words still don’t come when you pull away, and the way he regards you now is even worse than before, pure exaltation in his eyes as he looks up at you. On impulse you lean in again, brushing lips to that white scar bisecting his brow, and though his eyes flutter closed with the motion it doesn’t help the way you’re feeling in the slightest—a little restless, a little undone, far too seen for comfort. You bury your head into his shoulder in an attempt to quell it, feel the rise and fall of his chest beneath yours as he turns his face into you and breathes you in.

“It was too large,” you manage to say, small and quiet.

“Hm?”

“The bed. It’s too large when you’re not here. Cold. Empty.” You squeeze your eyes shut tight. His hand comes up to your head, stroking softly there, and of everything that seems to finally help. shoving your head even further into his neck, you say even quieter, “I miss you, husband, when you’re gone. I miss you so terribly it becomes difficult to bear.”

His laugh rumbles through you. It’s assured, arrogant, just like always—it melts away the lingering remains of that unease you’re still sifting through and allows you to finally relax on top of him, easing your legs down to lay tucked into the crook of his arm while he presses a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Then I’ll just have to remain here for your sake, wife.”

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #mine.🌧 #char.🌧 gojo #usurper!gojo