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actuallybean · 2 months ago

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Truth Hurts* | Part Two

When a witch curses you to spill the truth and nothing but the truth, your biggest secret slips—you're hopelessly, shamelessly into both Winchesters. Good news? They’re just as into sharing as you are. *Contains sexual material: Minors DNI, threesome with brothers Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader x Sam Winchester Part Three Tag List: @mostlymarvelgirl @hail-brod @s1mplyl0vely @ladykitana90 @bitchyfestivalbouquet @jenniferpendragon Supernatural Masterlist | Main Masterlist

The motel room smelled like rain-soaked leather and old takeout, and for once, it was a comforting scent. You were freshly showered, wrapped in a pair of sleep shorts and one of Dean’s old shirts—yours still damp from the storm—and curled up on the edge of the bed with a bottle of water clutched like it might save you from yourself.

Dean was stretched across the other bed, boots off, feet crossed, one arm behind his head like he didn’t have a care in the world. Sam sat at the small table near the window, typing away on his laptop, probably combing every obscure grimoire he could get his hands on.

But the real danger wasn’t the curse.

It was them.

The way they kept sneaking glances at you, like they were trying not to look too amused. Too curious. Like they were both quietly holding back a hundred questions and deciding which ones would make you squirm the most.

Dean grinned at you from his bed. “So. Just to recap… you ate my pie, sleep in my shirt, and lie about your coffee preferences. What else are you hiding, sweetheart?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Dean…”

“It’s for research,” Sam added innocently—though the way his lip twitched gave him away. “We should know the limits of the curse. Purely academic.”

“I hate both of you,” you muttered—and immediately followed with, “That’s a lie. I actually like you both too much and it’s becoming a problem.”

Dean choked on his beer. Sam looked like someone had just smacked him with a theology textbook.

You groaned. “God, I hate this. Can we not do the part where I become your personal truth jukebox?”

Dean wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, trying not to laugh. “C’mon. One more test. Nothing big. What’s your most embarrassing moment?”

“Nope.”

Dean grinned. “You have to answer.”

You threw a pillow at him. “I once tripped over my own feet in the middle of a salt circle, landed on my face, and knocked out a tooth. During a hunt.”

Sam blinked. “Was that the werewolf in Kansas?”

You nodded miserably. “Yeah.”

Dean was full-on laughing now. “Oh man, that’s why you wouldn’t talk to us for a day and a half?”

“Yep. Because I looked like a hillbilly jack-o’-lantern and you still tried to flirt with me while I was icing my face.”

Dean snorted. “What can I say? I admire perseverance.”

Sam closed his laptop and leaned back, expression softening, thoughtful. “Okay. Serious question—does it hurt? Telling the truth like this?”

You paused, surprised. “No. It’s… actually kind of a relief. Like breathing out after holding your breath for too long.”

Dean’s teasing faded, just a little. “You always hold back?”

You hesitated. And then, like always, the truth came out on its own. “Yes. Especially around you two. Because it’s easier not to say anything than say too much.”

Dean sat up slowly, arms resting on his knees, eyes locked on yours. Sam had gone quiet beside you, his attention sharp and weighted now.

The room felt smaller suddenly. Warmer. Like the moment before a storm breaks.

You swallowed. “That’s enough testing for tonight.”

Dean didn’t argue. Sam didn’t push. They just nodded, wordless, but neither of them looked away.

And as you crawled under the covers and rolled to face the wall, your heartbeat loud in your ears, you could feel both of their gazes still on you—curious, careful, and maybe… something more.

You prayed they wouldn’t ask the real questions.

Because if they did, you weren’t sure either of you would be able to pretend anymore.

✦

The morning light crept into the room like it was trying not to wake anyone, soft and golden through threadbare curtains. Rain still dripped from the edge of the roof outside. The room was quiet, filled only with the low hum of the A/C unit and the sound of Sam’s fingers tapping gently at his laptop keyboard.

Dean, for once, was up early—coffee in hand, barefoot, leaning against the dresser in a threadbare Henley and flannel pajama pants. You were sitting cross-legged on the bed, wrapped in the same oversized shirt from last night, hair still damp from your rushed post-hunt shower. You felt raw. Honest. And still not totally safe.

You hadn’t said anything embarrassing yet this morning.

Yet.

Dean sipped his coffee. “You’re quiet.”

You shrugged. “Trying not to speak unless absolutely necessary.”

Sam looked up from the table. “I’m working on the reversal. Got some leads. But I don’t think you’re in danger.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Besides emotional humiliation?”

Dean chuckled. “Oh come on. It hasn’t been that bad.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “I told you I cried when you ignored one of my texts for four hours.”

Dean’s grin widened. “Yeah, but that was kinda cute.”

Sam gave him a look.

Dean held up his hands. “What? It was.”

You groaned and flopped back onto the bed. “Just don’t ask me anything. Not today. I need a break.”

But that’s when it happened.

Dean’s voice, still lazy from sleep, floated across the room—casual. “Fine, fine. Just one more dumb question and I’m done.”

You glared at the ceiling.

He grinned. “If you weren’t cursed, what’s one thing you’d never tell us?”

You opened your mouth to refuse—to make a joke, dodge, say literally anything else. But the words pushed up your throat like a confession scalded into truth.

“That I think about both of you when I touch myself.”

Silence.

A long, bone-deep silence that wrapped around the room like it was holding its breath.

Dean blinked. His mouth opened slightly like maybe he was going to say something. He didn’t.

You sat up slowly, eyes wide, heart punching your ribs. “I didn’t mean to say that. I mean—I meant it—but I didn’t mean to say it.”

Sam had gone completely still in his chair, his jaw tight, one knuckle against his lips.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, mortified. “I wasn’t—I didn’t—Dean, you said it was a dumb question!”

Dean just stared at you. His coffee cup slowly lowered from his lips. “You think about us. Plural.”

You nodded helplessly. “Yes.”

Sam finally spoke, voice quiet but hoarse. “At the same time?”

You closed your eyes. “Yes.”

A pause. A charged, heavy pause.

Dean’s voice dropped a note lower. “How long?”

You groaned, wanting to crawl into the floor. “Months. Since the djinn hunt in Montana. When you both got cut and I had to patch you up. I couldn't stop staring at your hands, Sam. And Dean was—God—you were all bloody and cocky and leaning on the doorframe like you hadn’t just nearly died, and I just—my brain short-circuited, okay?!”

The words just kept coming.

“And it’s not just about sex,” you blurted. “It’s everything. The way Sam reads and forgets to eat, the way Dean drives with one hand and sings off-key, the way you both look at me like I matter even when I’m a mess. I want you both. I love you both. And now you know. So just—please, someone kill me now.”

Your chest was heaving, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes.

Dean sat his coffee down with a quiet clink, eyes unreadable. Sam stood slowly, arms at his sides, breathing shallow.

You expected silence.

What you got instead… was movement.

Dean stepped forward first, slow, cautious, until he was standing at the foot of your bed. Sam came beside him, taller, tense. Your heart slammed against your ribs like it wanted out.

Dean tilted his head slightly. “Sweetheart, you really think we haven’t thought about this?”

You blinked. “Wait—what?”

Sam’s voice was low, but steady. “You’re not the only one who keeps secrets.”

Dean’s eyes darkened as he looked you over, gaze dropping to your parted lips. “You’ve been cursed to tell the truth. Maybe it’s time we do the same.”

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 year ago

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last set of tsumsitter ssr groovies 👀

THE TIME HAS COME

First is Pomefiore!! (Edit: The initial version of this Groovy is on the left; Rook is missing the golden Pomefiore markings on his robes. There was an update to fix this. The updated version is on the right.)

The trio is framed by a border of colorful lights, which reminds me a lot of old-fashioned movie theater signs (though not as colorful). If you look closely at the top and bottom, it seems they are posed for a candid photograph and it’s being posted to Magicam or something?? Rook and Epel look super crisp here, which I love!! I think Epel is posing with his hands held behind his back. This paired with his smile and the slight bird’s eye view of his face makes him look super cute please don’t beat me up for saying that, Epel. And Rook is being showy and familiar as usual, even putting one hand on Vil’s shoulder. Vil isn’t cringing or uncomfortable with it, which goes to show that he and Rook are truly good friends.

As for Vil, it’s rare to see him posed casually like this. Most of his cards feature him posed in very “model”-like and mature ways, so to have just one hand on hip, leaning forward slightly, and gripping his grimoire is unique for him (I mostly associate this pose with Ace, lol). His smile is quite casual too—it’s not quite the full catty smirk he has in his live2D model, it’s a lot more subtle and playful.

BahacTeHWWRVwkkwwm YHE VIL TSUM STeALS THE SHOW ThoUGH 😭 (You can tell it’s smiling despite the lack of a visible mouth) from how its eyes!! The placement of the Tsum is also funny. With Pomefiore’s peacock throne in the background, it forms sort of an angelic halo around… the sentient stuffed toy… Proof that Tsum Vil is a heavenly being/j

Next is Ignihyde!!

The Shroud brothers return to Cyberspace, that blue void with tons of ethereal floating screens, particle effects, and code www I don’t know what those three pink balls of flame are in the background, but there being three of them is a consistent theme for Ignihyde. Three pink fireballs, three Shroud brothers, three heads of Cerberus! I wish I could say more here, but I’m basically a Malleus when it comes to tech—

Idia’s pose isn’t anything we haven’t seen before (just at different angles of it, I suppose). But!! It feels different here and adding Ortho definitely adds to it. The Pokémon trainer energy of the initial art carries over to the Groovy. Idia looks like a smug, tough trainer looking down on you with a cocky grin and his face half-shadowed.

Ortho floats almost menacingly next to his big brother, his face entirely shadowed. His aura is like a phantom (fitting) or even like a Pokémon on standby waiting for the chance to fire off a Hyper Beam. This might be me overthinking things, but I wonder if the amount of light on the brothers’ faces references the original Ortho. Robo!Ortho’s face is entirely darkened because his parallel has passed on. Idia’s face is only partially shadowed because while he was close to stepping over to the “other side”, he ultimately found hope and was able to continue living, this time for himself and on his own terms.

I LIKE HoW TSUM IDIA HAS ITS OWN sCREEN TO WORK OFF OF TOO 😭 IBRO IS MAkING A sUS FACE TOO, IT’S GLEEfUL AbOUT WhAtEVRr it’S UP TO… That makes me think that it’s hard at work… I dunno, hacking something systems fnksgwiwozlapaeb Watch out, a Tsum near you might infect your computer and then bounce away happily after ruining all your programs and files.

Last but not least… Diasomnia!! THIS ONE’S MY fAVORITE OF THE SSR TSUMSITTER GROUP, WHICH I WAs NOT EXPecTING AT ALL 🤡

The violet backlight is fantastic—it adds an interesting lighting to the illustration and highlights the green flames and Silver and Sebek’s bright eyes. And speaking of Sebek and Silver, LOOK AT THEM JUST LOOK AT THEM???????? More specifically, Sebek’s arms (they look ultra meaty somehow) and Silver’s whole face(that lopsided smile??? HELLO?????)!! On either side of Malleus like that… Peak bodyguard, I REPEAT, PEAK BODYGUARD

With Lilia bringing up the rear, the three form a perfect squad to surround and to protect their liege. cbsjsbevejwlw I like that Lilia is different than Silver and Sebek; he’s hanging out upside down (as he usually does) and bears a huuuge grin, completely having fun in the moment. (… How does his hat stay on like that when he’s fighting gravity though?)

Up front and center is Malleus of course! He’s wielding his spindle staff like a king might a scepter. This with his fierce face gives the impression of a leader marching into battle with his retainers. You get a real good shot of his teeth and reptilian eyes here which I’m sure the Malleus stans are going feral for right now—and with the limelight shining down on him, he looks almost hopeful for once instead of downtrodden or gloomy.

THE TSUM MALLEUS LOOKS SO FUNKY PLACED tHERE cnsnwveuxvDFsFjqk Just. Cheekily There on Malleus’s shoulder… Because Maleficent and Diablo is a known combination, the image of those two as master and minion comes to mind. Imagine Malleus blasting you with lightning, pausing to listen to his Tsum whispering a suggestion into his ear, and then telling you the Tsum has advised that he blast you with a second strike 💀

Aaaaaah, the Tsumsitter SSR Groovies are some of the best in this game 😭 So glad they’re finally over though, it’s stressful saving rolls for what you know would be a limited event with multiple SSR banners, lol

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reverieblondie · 1 year ago

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Finding the Tiefling Bachelors Smut

A/N: I really hope everyone enjoys these hcs. Now these are just my ideas if you have ideas or things you feel like should be added please share! I would love to hear what you think! Huge shout out to @f4iryt3a for letting me use their Cal screenshot! I really appreciate it!

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader

Rolan: Scholarly romantic, who endeavors to seek experience outside his books

Now I love the idea of Rolan accidentally finding smut/erotica. That dork would get embarrassed so quickly, but I know he would be intrigued as the new master of Razamaths tower. Rolan, of course, has made it his mission to quickly understand all the tomes and books found in its grand libraries. Through his cataloging, he discovered that not all the books are necessarily history books or grimoires, but there is a collection of books that are stories. Needing to flip through for a rough summary of the story quickly, it's when he scans the pages and pauses…

Ardent eyes trail over her shivering skin. His lips come over to caress her body, his hands sliding up her belly towards her breast. Rough fingers pinch and twist at her sensitive buds, making her tremble with a breathy moan. All while his lips trail down lower and lower…biting softly, licking down her mound. Her skin is like silk against his fevered tongue, and no doubt the lower he wonders, the sweeter the taste…

"And to think you thought me intolerable…now look at you, love. Panting like a bitch for my tongue…"

Rolan slams the book closed, his face burning a bright crimson hue. Now, Rolan isn't dumb; he knows what smut is, but he's never actually read it before…And now, as he keeps looking through the books near this one…it seems Rolan has acquired a bit of a collection. He keeps the collection of his newly acquired smut in a locked drawer on his desk.

Now, on late nights, while he's been in his office for hours, his back is tense, and his neck and shoulders are filled with knots. He needs to let out all this unreleased tension, so his hand wanders down to that locked drawer to finish reading that last chapter…

The book has been discarded but not forgotten as it lies on the desk. Rolan's breath is labored as he is hunched over his desk, feverishly fisting his cock, whimpering, and throwing his head back as he lets the images flash in his mind. Doe's eyes stare up at him, his hand with a tight fist of their hair…their tongue rolling and lapping at his ridges, tail rubbing their wet sex as he approaches his high. Fuck How he wished it wasn't his hand but their mouth eagerly sucking him, desperate to take all of him. Rolan's thoughts spur him on more, your nails digging into his tights, your throat so fucking tight, just like he is sure your pussy is. And where would you want in? Your gorgeous face? Your breasts? Or would you swallow?

Rolan's hips buckle faster, his loose hair sticking to the sheen of sweat on his neck as he lets out a groan. He would give you all of it; he would make sure to show you everything he could do, how he would study your body just to get you to cum. How he would remember every moan, every tremble, and the way you feel wrapped around so tightly, your sweet voice trembling all those words he dreams you would say. That's when he feels that wave rushes over him, his legs tremble, and a whimper "ah, a-h!" leaves his lips. Rolan has to brace his hand on the desk as he cums in fast spurts in his hand. Catching his breath, he looks at his mess… "Zurgan…"

You and Rolan are friends, but you two still manage to argue most days, and you wouldn't like it any other way. Something about that grumpy attitude just makes your head spin. You want to get under more than just his skin; getting under him would be ideal. It's good that you're patient because you're just waiting for the snap where this teasing finally pays off, and he becomes yours.

You find yourself waiting for Rolan to ask about some magical artifact you found. Honestly, you could care less; you just want an excuse to talk to him and tease him. Unfortunately, you must wait for him…might as well snoop a little. And what do you find in your snooping? A locked desk drawer, intriguing…with a trick you picked up astarion you get it opened to see books?

Oh….smut books…with a clear theme, enemies to lovers; it looks like Rolan likes to argue as much as you do…you can work with this.

Rolan walks through the door, "Okay, what do you have for me?" His voice catches as soon as he sees you sitting on his desk (something he says he hates), watching you read through his smut.

You flick your eyes up to him, "Rolan… I never took you as a smut reader; I would think the Great Master would be too busy…" Rolan approaches you quickly and tries to snatch the book from you, but you hold it behind yourself, not making it easy for him.

"Hasn't anyone ever taught you about privacy!" He stands right in front of you now, his flushed cheeks on full display for you. "Why are you embarrassed?" you taunt; Rolan sighs irritatedly as he struggles for the book. His body leaning in so close, his chest brushing against yours, his hips between your spread legs, his face getting so close to yours. Rolans is so desperate to get the book he doesn't realize how close he is.

"Someone needs to teach you proper decorum!" his voice grumbles. "Is that an offer…" Rolan pauses as he hears you whisper in his ear; he turns to face you, his face already so close your noises brush together. Rolan swallows as his eyes flick from your lips to your eyes. " You're teasing me," he says lowly, dropping the book behind you; you wrap your arms around his neck. "Not unless you want me to."

Rolan lets out a shaky breath before he places his hands on your hips, guiding you to wrap your legs around him. "Must you always have a comeback every time?"

"What? I thought you liked my smart mouth. Perfect for arguing." Rolan gently lays your body down against his desk, his body over you, making your breath quicken, and your arousal ruins your panties with want. "How about I put that mouth to better use?"

You two don't miss a moment to start stripping on one another. "What use? Oh, great master Rolan?" Rolan smiles and leans his now bare chest down, his lips pressing hungrily against yours. Before you can slip in your tongue, he pulls back, relishing in the whine you give from missing his lips. "Like making you moan my name." -Damn that cockiness…

The next few moments are a blur of sloppy kisses, sharp bites to your neck, and the feeling of his hot tongue tracing over your nipples, making your thighs clamp tighter around his waist in a whine. Rolan eggs you on to say his name as his textured cock runs slowly up and down your wet sex. His body shudders with a groan from the feeling of your slick all for him.

Rolan slides into you, whimpering along with you as you finally moan his name, "Rolan~" you can't help but arch yourself as he pumps into you deeper and deeper with every thrust. The more he rocks in you, the rougher he gets, as his nails dig into your ass, lifting your lower body off the bed as you keep clamping down on him from the praise he rewards you.

His cock hitting your G Stop, you feel yourself squeezing down on him as his hazy eyes look down at you with a lazy smirk; he's read enough to know what's happening to you, "Oh? About to cum? Come on… Don't hold back, cum for me."

It hits you like a wave making your whole body tremble as your orgasm on his cock, with a scream of his name. Rolan is quick to silence you with a moan of his own as he leaves a rough kiss on your lips.

Zevlor: An Experienced Romantic

Okay, but can we all imagine Zevlor's shirtless body littered with scars and a nice set of reading glasses low on his nose as he reads some smut/erotica. (Ugh, the dream!) Zevlor, our oldest of the bachelors, has seen his fair share of smut; back in the day, it wasn't odd for some of the guys to hide erotica under their bunks. Though their books were quite different from Zev's. Sadly, those books have been lost to time and the descent. Maybe it was curiosity or the fact that a certain someone has been making his heart race every time they say his name. Now, here he is in the romance section of the library, trying to find one of those old books he used to own. Unfortunately, he only sees books he's not familiar with, so on a whim, he opens a random book…

If someone walked by, it would tarnish her reputation. A high blood in the gardens this late with a man will surely cause gossip. Especially with her legs spread so wide and her guard positioning his cock so deep in her. Her soft voice moaning so heavenly, only causes his cock to throb more. He's meant to be guarding her…If anyone finds out… She's too important, too perfect to be with a man like him…

"I love you." Her voice, like sweet honey, draws him to hold her tighter, to rut in deeper. He drags his lips across her slick skin, tongue lightly licking the sweat from her neck. Finally, he reaches her ear, "Darling flower…I love you more than you can possibly know…" She clenches and flutters with a whimper, and his hips start to move faster…

Zevlor ended up checking out that book, along with three others the lady behind the counter recommended for him. It turns out they had similar tastes…He made sure to rush home so nobody saw what he had, and Zevlor made sure to put the books in a safe place…in his dresser drawer.

It's another one of those sleepless nights. His eyes just won't seem to close, and his body won't relax. Maybe he should read a few chapters in his new book…just until his eyes get heavy…

Zevlor can't help but grunt as he feels his balls twitch, begging himself to stroke his girth faster, but Zevlor is patient… he knows what his body can take, so he continues his slow build. Zevlor spits on his other hand to lube his cock, making it slip faster within his hand. His grunts get louder as his hand moves faster, building up to his release. Zevlor shuts his eyes, focusing on the approaching wave of pleasure, his thoughts immediately going to you. Your body is bouncing beautifully as you ride the old hellrider. Gods, he wants to talk you through it and be your guide to your sweet pleasure before he fills you up. How he would dig his hands into the soft plush of your hips to help roll you deeper, cooing softly to you as you begin to babble, your pleasure starting to build to its peak. Gods, how he wants to hear your voice trembling his name… Zevlors hips start to roll at the thought of your snug cunt and your sweet voice chanting how it's too much and how you're coming to cum. The thought of your cum coating him is enough for his cock to throb as he lets his cum shoot against his abdomen. Zevlor sighs coming back down from his high. As he cleans himself up, he wonders, would you clean him up? Perhaps with your tongue? Zevlor shakes his head and chastises himself for the lewd thought.

You and Zevlor developed a strong bond after everything; you two were supported by each other through getting past everything. Even though Zevlor decided to retire to a small farm on the city's outskirts, you two kept in touch through letters and visits. Part of you wishes that Zevlor would one day invite you to stay at his farm with him permanently…though you are unsure if that is just a silly dream of a lovesick girl…

During one of your impromptu visits to Zevlors farm, you were helping him wrangle the goats, it turns out Philp the Ram is not a fan of yours… So that is how you found yourself crashed into the water trough after running from a grumpy goat. Zevlor was a slew of apologies as he helped you from the water and told you that you could borrow some clothes from him while yours dries. So, while you were looking for a shirt in his drawers, you found a book? Maybe a peek wouldn't hurt…

Turns out that Zevlor is quite the romantic…maybe it's time you confess…but you need to have a plan…

Zevlor was done setting up the tea, but you still hadn't emerged from his bedroom. Perhaps nothing fits you, right? Or maybe you are embarrassed? Zevlor sits pondering for a few minutes before he decides to walk to the room and check on you. You hear his heavy footsteps before you hear his Knock. "Tav? Are you alright?” With a deep breath, you tell yourself it's now or never. "Zev? I'm fine, but could you ... come in, please?"

Zevlor, never one to deny a request from you, opens the door; when he sees you, he thinks his heart stops at the sight of your bare thighs sitting on his bed in his favorite mauve shirt. Then he sees the book on his dresser, and his face turns an impossibly deeper shade of red. Great, you think he's an old pervert. Zevlor is about to explain when you cut him off, patting the spot beside you on the bed. He watches your face blush, "sit with me?" Zevlor sits beside you. The tension is thick in the air as both your minds reel, Zevlor panicking that you think he's a gross pervert, while you are working the courage to make your next move ... something romantic to impress him.

"About the book I-" It was so quick .... but you forget Zevlor was a paladin, a well-trained one at that. So when you turned to kiss his full lips, Zevlor caught your face between his hands. His eyes widen in surprise as he looks at your squished cheeks and puckered lips. Your face reddened, "I'm sorry, I was trying to be romantic... I should have asked to kiss you.” You manage to tremble out through your squeezed lips ...His eyebrows furrow and a slight laugh leaves him “you... Want to kiss me?” He lets go of your head, and it's your turn to laugh. “That and more... if you're willing?"

Zevlar was definitely willing, willing to run his hands over your soft body, while you do the same to his hardened one, tracing his scars with tender kisses as you sang sweet praises into his crimson skin. His Kisses were so soft as your lips pressed together, slowly building up your hunger for more.

It could have been minutes, hours, hells, even days as you two explored each other's bodies. "Slow ... ride it slow ..." his deep voice whispers in your ear as you slowly roll your hips ."Beautiful ... look at you ...” His lips return to kissing a bruise to your neck as you look into the mirror. Your legs spread wide over his thighs, one of his hands on your hip as the other is wrapped around your waist, holding your front as steady as possible as he thrust So slowly into your drooling cunt. You can see your arousal dripping down his ridged cock as he moves it through your snug cunt, stretched so taut for him. Your hands are holding onto Zevlor for dear life as he molds your insides to his shape.

Zevlors pace steadily builds as your insides start to clench on him tighter, and your cooing gets higher pitched. He smiles and meets your eyes in the reflection as he slips his hot fingers to your twitching clit, rolling over it in quick circles So desperate to watch his lovely Tav squirt all over his girth again.

What could be more romantic than watching the one you care for come undone on you?

Dammon: A lover of erotica through and through

It is canon that Dammon likes smut, which inspired this whole thing. Damon isn't one to shout out from the rooftops what he enjoys reading, but he isn't shy about it, either. He enjoys reading smut/erotica, and he isn't going to be embarrassed about that. He finds that his favorite works are Bondage and Corruption Kink-based. Sure, the stories are undeniably hot, but the trust, the communication shared between two people engaging in that level of intimacy he's utterly addicted to…and his library will only grow. Still, he always returns to his rarer favorites…

His hand is cold compared to the burning flesh of her ass. She leans into the touch, losing her grip, but that only earns her a swat that furthers the rosy flesh to a fiery blush…" keep holding your ankles.." his voice is stern, and she wishes he would talk to her for hours like this, She grabs her ankles tighter mumbling a soft apology. He smiles and kisses down her spine in approval, "Good girl. Now, what's your safe word?" She feels his hand sliding across her ass, the tightening in her gut coiling further. "L-lavender…" she can't help but tremble, feeling his hand spread her blushing cheeks. "When do we say that word?" she's fully spread to him now, feeling dizzy in anticipation. "If-if I'm feeling overwhelmed, hurt, or just ready to stop."

He muses at her, bent over, ready for him; he runs his oiled fingers over the metal plug keeping his eyes on her tight entrance…he feels his cock throb from the rush, she wants to slam himself into her ass, but he calms himself with a breath. "Very good, now I'm going to put the plug in, remember to breathe and that it will be cold…"

Dammon only occasionally has guests in his small house, so he has never felt the need to hide his books. So what does he do? He proudly displays them on his bookshelf, rotating out his favorites for a nice reread on his nightstand.

No matter how many times he might read this book, it always excites him. After a long day of pounding away at scorching hot metal it can get a person tightly wound up…and what's better than an excellent book to help wind you down after a long day…

Turns out that winding down is not what his body had in mind for him tonight. It started off as it usually does, his hand lazily stroking his cock, while he read from his book, but as he kept reading, he couldn't help but think about when he saw you last, bright smile, tight trousers, and your shirt barely containing your breast. You always looked like a vision, and he wouldn't mind getting his mouth on if you only asked. Dammons thoughts go to you bent over his anvil as he pounds into your warm heat, his hands keeping your wrist behind your back as you moan for more to show you all he knows. Dammons bites his lip at the thought, continuing to ram his cock into the crease of his pillow folded between his legs. His hand is not enough, and neither is the pillow, but if he thrusts fast enough, he can almost trick himself. It's your plush thighs he's ramming against. Dammon lets out deep moans as he gets closer, his cock weeping at the tip as he thinks of how deep he could go… how he could explore all of you for him to devour. Gods, to feel you cum all over him, to demand more from you till your body shakes from overstimulation. The pleasure he knows his rigid cock could give you. The surge of his orgasm washes over him as his cum shoots into his pillow with a low groan at the instant relief. Dammon throws his pillow off the bed as he catches his breath, so much for relaxing…

After the end of everything, it only makes sense that you would keep in touch with Dammon; every good hero needs a good blacksmith, and Dammon is yours. He was always so reliable and fun to talk to. It only makes sense that you were running his way whenever your sword or armor was nicked. You two slowly boned and found yourself spending hours just sitting and talking to him, telling him your adventures while Dammon just smiled and worked. Watching Dammon work was also an enjoyable experience; he was always so passionate about what he did… you wonder if he's as passionate in other ways

Dammon had told you to come by his place to pick up your weapons, which he was repairing. Having to do some last-minute things, he had set tea out for you and had you wait in his quaint little home. You waited and waited, but he was just taking so long, so you decided to walk around. While you were walking around, you saw Dammon's bookshelf and looked to see if you two shared the same taste in books…

As soon as you picked up one of the books and started to read it, you just couldn't stop. You didn't know if it was shocking, curiosity, or interest ... but what you were reading was so intense, and you just couldn't help how your thighs were pressing together to help ease your growing arousal. "Enjoying the book ?" his voice chimed, making you jump. Slamming the book closed and trying to stumble out an apology, Dammon just looks at your increasingly flushing face, and his smile grows.

Finally, Dammon gently places his hand on your lips, his face completely unfazed as his calm voice asks, "Want me to show you my favorite parts? "- How could you refuse?

What turned into him reading them to you led to you reading it yourself as Dammon ideally played with your hair as he watched you; he Turned to you, finally sharing in a passionate kiss, to where you are now ...

Both of you stripped down to your underwear, straddling Dammons thigh as he leaves slow, sloppy kisses on the column of your neck, "We will start slow...to show you …"

Your hands are holding on tightly to his broad shoulders as his hands slide down your waist to squeeze your hips. His bright eyes take in your blush as he asks if you're okay if you're ready. With a shy yes, you two start as he starts to guide your hips to grind on his thigh; the feeling of your clit rubbing against him makes warm pleasure rush down your spine to spread through you. Dammon just watches your beautiful face contort to the pleasure, listening to your soft moans and trembling Whines, his cock growing stiff as the arousal drips from your panties to leak on his thighs. God, he wants to trace it with his fingertips and have you taste yourself, but he contains himself, telling himself to go slow with you. Dammon moves his hands up to your breast, groping you softly as you continue your soft grind.

You keep rocking back and forth, feeling the tightness in your stomach as you gradually build your pace. From how wet you feel. Dammon knows you are so close to that high, so he decides to help you more. His left hand lowers your bra as his lips kiss your perked nipples before his tongue carefully traces the sensitive skin, making you moan so softly. Then With his right hand, he slips two fingers through your soaked panties to play with your swollen little clit. The feeling of his rough fingertips toying and then pinching softly is enough for that coil to break within you as you squirt on his lap.

"I'm so sorry …" You say in a gasp, but Dammon only shushes you as he holds you to his chest, his expert fingers guiding you through your orgasm. "You have nothing to apologize for ... that's so beautiful, which makes me want you to do it again ... "You whine and bury your face in his neck from his sultry words. Damon can't wait to teach you more things.

Cal: Innocent but wants to learn

There is not enough smut about Cal, which is a shame; he is a cutie and deserves to be included in the Tiefling Bachelor lineup. Cal always thought that there was only one way to get sexual stimulation from a book and those erotic art books people hid in their homes. He had heard of the desire to seek them out. Well, now Cal's grown up, he has needs. It's while Cal is trying to discreetly find one of these books when he comes across smut. Curious why a book like this would be in this section. That is when he figures it out…

He couldn't help how her strong body roused him. It was an accident coming across her during her bath, but even the warrior jumped to action and could pin him down beneath her foot. He just stared at her bare body, shining in the moonlight as the water dripped down her skin. He swallowed his suddenly dry throat as the need to lick up every drip off her body to quench his thirst, but only if she wished it. How he would be a dog for her… "Why are you spying on me during my bath? Are you an assassin or just a pervert?" His rehearsed lines over why he joined her on her journey evaporate from his mind.

"My lady…lady, I wish to serve your every whim…I wish to be your hand…it would be an honor to travel with a noble hero like yourself…" Her eyes narrow before she swiftly drops down to his prone form…Gods, please don't sit on him and reveal to her his aching erection… "careful with your wording… you could easily end up as a squire… or my chew toy.." he tries to steady his breath… "whatever my knight wishes…" she smiles…this should be an interesting addition to her travels…

Of course, Cal quickly bought the book and immediately packed it for home as soon as he left the store. As soon as he got to his room after sneaking past his siblings, he needed to find a place to hide it. The last thing he needed was for someone to see that he had this book. So, after a quick scan of his room, he shoved the book underneath his mattress. Nobody will find it there, right?

Cal was completely immersed in the story; any time he had time off, she was sneaking off to his room to read another chapter or two. Then, late one night, he found that the plot was thickening, and it was starting to stir something within him. Cal springs from his bed and quickly decides to take a cool bath; that should help cool him right…

The bath did little to ease him; all while he was in the bath, his thoughts kept wandering to his book… and you. Now here he is, his fevered skin feeling the sharp bliss of the bathroom's tiled wall against his back, groaning lowly as he fucks his fist. Cal knew it was wrong to think of you this way, your beautiful legs spread open… your hand teasing yourself as your sweet arousal drips more and more. Cal knew he shouldn't be doing this, but that didn't stop him from shutting his eyes tighter, buckling his hips more desperately as he chased his high. All those previous feelings of shame melt away as your sweet voice calls his name, your eyes lidded, telling him to "Watch me, Cal…taste me…" Fuck, his breath picks up as dose his pace mumbling to himself how much he wants you… what he would fo got "Ah, just to taste you… to have you cum on my tongue…" Cal stroked faster, whimpering and moans growing louder at the thought of you pushing him down and sinking your soft cunt onto his cock. The way you would ride him as you screamed for him was the final straw that had his cock spasming, "Fuck, fuck, Fuck!" Cal couldn't help but chant like a prayer as he made a mess over his clean body. Cal looked down at his ruined body, "Dammit… I need to rinse off again…"

Cal was always a pleasant person to be associated with; your friendship started when he thanked you for helping end a squabble between his siblings. After that, you two kept running into each other. First, he sought you out for combat advice, which made you two have friendly chats. You two both find each other to open up about your troubles with one other. Cal says he admires you and all the incredible heroic acts you have done, but you admire Cal and his cheerful, never-giving-up attitude. The world always seemed just that bit warmer when Cal is near…

When you saw that Rolan and Lia were out at the tavern without Cal, you were instantly worried about him. They had told you he was not feeling good, apparently, and that immediately made you need to go see him. So, with a key from Rolan, you made your way to the tower to check in on Cal. When you reach outside his door, you hear a sound that makes you worried…

The air in your lungs ripped from your throat, causing you to let out a gasp as you saw him fisting himself under his blanket. You and Cal locked eyes; he immediately stopped and quickly apologized to explain himself as he was trying to get untangled from his sheets. Poor Cal fell out of his bed, crashing to the floor in a tangled mess of his bedding. Walking over to him, you crouch Where his arm hides his face. "I .. am so sorry ... I ... didn't mean - ""Cal?" Cal Swallows, "Yes ?" You carefully move his arm away so you can look into his eyes. "Do you want me to help you ?" Cal looked up at you with wide eyes before nodding quickly.

Cal's breath was labored as his sweaty hands gripped the sheets as he looked at you in awe. Your hands wrapped around his length as you -Kissed and licked his peddling tip, your eyes watching his adorable face. Then with a final smile and a whisper to relax and enjoy, you start sucking around him, your soft tongue - licking around his sensitive underside making his hip twitch and buckle. Cal thought he must have fallen and cracked open his skull, passing on to the next heavenly realm; how could it be that you, perfect beautiful you, are sitting on your knees eagerly, sucking and slurping on his cock; it just couldn't be real.

Then he felt his cock push to the back of your throat, and he couldn't help from throwing his head back and moaning your name. You relished in the feeling of his trembling as he came in thick spurts down your throat. You had to hold back from laughing as you heard him apologize. Standing up, you smile at his hazy expression and slight smile. You swallowed him down and caressed his cheek, giggling as he pressed frantic kisses on your palm, saying a thousand thank yous. Grabbing his chin, you smile at him as he asks those words you were hoping for. "I .. um. I have never done it, but could I help you ?' Turns out Cal is very good at following directions.

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ozzgin · 5 months ago

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Have you ever considered doing your own seven princes of hell? I’ve seen that you did obey me! stories in the masterlist and it got me wondering if you’d possibly make your own?

I don’t care if it’s just doodles, stories, or whatever. I just really want to see your take on them 🙇.

I have! Gosh, back in 2013 - way before Obey Me - I had planned to make an otome game with a friend of mine. It would've been the seven deadly sins as demon brothers. She was doing the writing, and I was tasked with the art. I wonder if it's wrong of me to post a snippet of our intro? We haven't spoken in over a decade, and nothing ever came out of it.

“Two months ago, some guy called Pride broke into my house, claiming he was the leader of the Seven Deadly Sins.” “He made some pretty ridiculous claims, it was obvious he was lying. That didn’t stop him from insisting that I should meet his Brothers and choose one of them for a husband.” “Although I knew he was lying, I humoured him and took part in the most bizarre tea party anyone could attend.” “That guy is an impostor, nevertheless – a pretender, a crook. I’m assured he is, and yet...” “And yet I shiver at the touch of a tiny note, which forbears one of his Brothers’ handwriting...”

When Obey Me came out, I was actually a little baffled to discover that a game studio had gone for the same idea. Like...hey, I thought of that too! Heh.

Starting from scratch again would be a difficult task, I think, but I have recently wondered about expanding Zzy's storyline and adding more demons to the plot. He could easily play the role of Lust. Perhaps you've begun experimenting with more grimoires, attempting to summon new devilish beasts for your service, until Zzy nearly breaks your door down, begging you to reconsider: it's his brothers you're trying to reach, and he won't accept any competition.

#personal #zzy #very strange to look back on all the projects and ideas i had #back then i didn't have any kind of blog or social media #so I never expected anyone else to see the stuff #and look at me now! i have a bunch of people talking to me about imaginary characters #teenage me would be very proud

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muddyorbsblr · 1 year ago

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onyx pt2

See my full list of works here!

Summary: Thor's return to the Compound reveals that your new pet kitten wasn't quite what you thought he was

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: language (it's like 2 cuss words but i'm still not sorry, Rogers); the lightest sprinkle of angst [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: himbo Thor hours

You couldn't believe what you were hearing from Thor. Implying that the sweet tiny kitten on your shoulder was actually the god that wouldn't even spare you a single glance sideways. The one that barely even registered that you existed.

"Thor no. It can't be. This little bub is small and baking biscuits on my cheek. He purrs. He's cat-shaped. Onyx is a cat. He's my cat. And right now you're scaring him being all up in his face like this. I say this with so much love…Thunder? Back the fuck off." Your kitten shivered even harder as he snuggled into your neck, keeping his little face buried in your hair.

"Lady Y/N, I know my brother's eyes anywhere. Especially after he disguised himself as a snake when we were merely eight years old and--"

"Changed back and stabbed you. Bleh it's me. I know the story, Thunder," you finished for him, suddenly exceedingly aware of the weight of maybe-Onyx-maybe-Loki on your shoulder despite the tiny feline frame. "But I'm telling you there's just no way that my cat is--"

You looked into Onyx's eyes and immediately your shoulders dropped, realizing that it wasn't a coincidence that his eyes were a familiar shade of blue. Thor was right; he knew his brother's eyes anywhere. The kitten embraced your face, pressing his nose to your cheek repeatedly.

"Onyx, look at me." He stilled against your cheek, his wide pleading eyes looking into yours with something that looked akin to resignation. "You were hissing at FRIDAY and Shaun about getting chipped because you understood everything we were saying. Am I right?" He didn't move, the pupils in his eyes growing wider and the corners of his eyes starting to fill with tears. "Because you're Loki?"

He took a deep breath, this little chest puffing up with air and suddenly looking significantly less cat-like than he did a minute ago. Onyx -- actually, Loki -- pressed his face to your cheek again, the action now making your breath hitch in the back of your throat. Then finally he nodded, and the air left your lungs.

You walked over to your apartment, Thor's heavy footsteps following just behind you, and placed Onyx/Loki on your desk in front of a notepad and a pen. "Talk." He looked up at you again with those wide pleading eyes. "Please," you added, unsure of what to feel now that the last few hours you spent with your newfound pet was being colored with the context of who he actually was.

Too many thoughts, too many questions, floated around your head, nearly overwhelming you, as your last round of pain meds began to wear off and the discomfort you were feeling gradually became a throbbing pulsating sensation throughout your left side.

Most of them revolving around why he acted the way that he did in this tiny form with you, and how long this could have gone on if Thor hadn't revealed his identity within ten seconds of seeing him. The blond god pulled out a chair for you to read along as Loki's green magic surrounded the pen and words began to form on the paper.

I made a misstep while practicing my magic and cast a spell that turned me into this diminutive feline form. I had exited my quarters earlier today to find assistance in retrieving the spell I require to reverse its effects.

"Hold on." The pen stopped mid-stroke, the cat looking at you with your hand held up. "If you can make things move with your mind, why couldn't you just get the spell book--"

"Grimoire," Thor corrected you. "He gets a bit testy when you use the other word."

"Right then, why couldn't you just move the grimoire down and reverse the spell on your own?" The pen lifted again, you and his brother crowding around the paper to read his answer.

When I scale down my form to something so vulnerable, my magic is not as potent. In theory the grimoire is only just at the limit of my powers' reach in this form and I run the risk of crushing myself with the tome.

"Loki, are you telling me you need help reaching the top shelf?" Thor chortled at the question, sounding like he was struggling to keep his chuckles at bay. "Can it, Thunder, it's not that funny." The cat nodded at you, starting to stand on his back legs again. "Okay, so why not ask your brother? He's way taller than me."

"Oh that I can answer for him, Lady Y/N," he quipped, raising his own hand up in the air. "My brother doesn't trust me around his possessions. Something about how I have a tendency to break his things."

"You know what, that tracks," you muttered, standing and presenting the kitten your hand. "Come on then, let's get you back to normal." He hopped onto your hand and you were about to put him on your shoulder before you stopped, keeping him perched on your hands instead. He meowed at you, starting to climb up your arm before you picked him up again, keeping him in your hands.

"Think my brother wants to be on your shoulder, Lady Y/N. Seemed quite comfortable there," Thor spoke up, letting out a soft chuckle when the kitten started nodding enthusiastically, agreeing with him. "Perhaps you should--"

"I let him stay there earlier because he was my cat," you shot back. "Now he's your brother, it's not the same thing." He whimpered, his little cat body shaking in your hands, taking every ounce of strength you could spare not to give in and just place him back there. He kneaded at your palms the entire way to his apartment, Thor carrying around your stepping stool.

You all got to Loki's study, setting him down on the desk as he guided you to the grimoire he needed, shaking his head at each tome on the shelf that you'd pointed at so far.

"My word, Brother, your attention to detail in these sketches is remarkable, you even got--" Loki hissed at his brother, who was currently standing by a stack of journals, a small sketchbook in his hand. "Alright alright I desist. I shall take my leave. You shall be the one to divulge this information once you are yourself again."

The blond Asgardian's heavy footsteps sounded throughout the apartment until he left, then a few moments afterward you faintly heard his booming voice as he rejoined the rest of the team. You pointed at another grimoire that finally had him nodding his little head, stepping aside on the desk to make room for you to set it down.

"Okay then," you spoke up once you stepped back down to the ground, suddenly feeling more awkward as you stood alone with him in his apartment. "I'll uhh…I'll leave you to it."

You made it to the door of his study before you heard his tiny meow again, seeing him standing on his back legs at the edge of his desk, grabby hands outstretched towards you.

"I'll see you when you're…you again. Later, Loki." The sound of his little meows tugged at your heartstrings, nearly making you turn around and…honestly you didn't even know why he'd want you there with him but you'd stay if only to wipe the sad look from his face. You couldn't deny the adorable little cat much anyways in the hours he was yours.

Then again, you probably couldn't deny him anything in his Asgardian form, either.

An hour after you walked out of Loki's apartment you were hobbling your way back to yours, having eaten enough to take your next round of medications and toting a compound that Banner whipped up in his lab that could maybe help your injuries heal a touch faster. You had half a mind to just cut the sweatshirt off of you once you got inside to avoid the lingering discomfort, but ultimately decided against it.

That wasn't a good enough reason to let a perfectly good forest green sweatshirt go to waste.

You were about to start using the compound on your ribs first when a voice stopped you. "Darling…"

That voice. You recognized that voice anywhere. Giving you butterflies whenever you heard it in mission briefings. Haunting your vivid fantasies regardless of the time or appropriateness. The voice that had you incapable of forming words on any other day.

"Good to see you back," you said, trying to keep your composure around the god.

You reached for your sweatshirt again to cover yourself from his piercing stormy gaze, but before you could, he stood before you, his hand gently grasping your arm while the other rested on your waist. "I received a message from my brother while I was in my feline form, asking if I could check on your injuries. Aid in your healing somehow, if I feel inclined. His words, not mine." Your breath hitched when his thumbs stroked at your skin more tenderly than any of your former lovers had ever touched you. "I would have done it regardless."

Your pulse was thumping in your ears from his proximity, from the way he held your gaze. From the way he held you like he was fighting every urge to pull you to him. Like he would let you step out of it if that was what you wanted.

But all you wanted at the moment was to ask him, "Why didn't you tell me who you were the second you saw me in the pantry?"

The journal Thor was holding earlier materialized on your desk, diverting your attention to the open page. Probably the page that he was commending earlier that made the raven-haired god hiss at him in cat form. The image on the page had the air leave your lungs.

It was a sketch of you.

"My refusal to look at you before was not from disdain, little mortal," he spoke, taking a step closer to you, his hand traveling up your arm and framing your face. You could feel his breath on your skin. "It was because every time I would look upon your features, I had to fight back every compulsion to do this."

He tucked his finger under your chin, turning you to face him before pressing a tender kiss to your lips that had you weakening in his hold, your stomach violently fluttering as his lips moved against yours. You whimpered against his lips, making him pull you into his arms, weaving his fingers into your hair.

"I've longed for you, precious mortal," he whispered once he pulled away, pressing kisses along the side of your face while you caught your breath. "To know the taste of your lips on mine. The feel of your supple body pressed against me." He kissed you again, lifting you off your feet and carrying you deeper into your apartment. Into your bedroom. He laid you down on your bed, briefly licking into your mouth before pulling away, making light wash over the room with a wave of his hand. "May I heal you, darling?"

Words failed you at the sight of him hovering over you, eyes wide and pleading as he looked on at the bruises and cuts that colored the left side of your torso. You wordlessly nodded your head to grant him the permission he needed to go forward, giving you a soft smile before he leaned down and pressed his lips to your bruises.

"Much better," he breathed out, nipping at your skin before moving his hands down to the waistband of your leggings, lips traveling down to your thigh and kissing you over the fabric. "Once I have seen to your injuries, you should know that I have every intention to make you mine." He kissed you just below your belly button, humming against your skin as you squirmed underneath him, deft hands working the tight fabric down your legs. "If you wish to be, that is."

"I do," you gasped out, ceasing to give a flying fuck how desperate and wanton you sounded at the moment. "I'm yours, I'm all yours."

He smiled against your skin, kissing away at the injuries you sustained on your left leg before making his way back up your body. "You've no idea how delighted I am to hear those words from you, my darling." You felt what remained of your clothing melting away along with his, your moan when skin met skin muffled by him slanting his mouth over yours.

You woke up the next morning to the feel of Loki's nose brushing against yours, pressing kisses along your face until you let out a soft giggle from his attentions. "Good morning, sweetheart."

Your response had him running his fingers along your sides, turning you into a squirming giggling mess as you tried to wrestle your way out of his hold. "Good morning, Onyx."

A/N: I heavily debated w/ myself if I was gonna put smut in this but ultimately decided not to because it's a fluff story and I wanted it to stay a full fluff story 🥴 Just know that he did, in fact, give her plenty a mango ride 😏😏

This is probs the last story I'll post for 2023, so I'm gonna wish you all a Happy New Year and here's to the whorish insanity we'll all get up to in 2024. I have a whole lot planned out, starting with more horny bitches cuts and…a certain celebration I've been putting off because I'm drowning in a sea of WIPs 😂

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover

#loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki fluff #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson fluff #loki laufeyson fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfic #muddyorbs writes

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v-nnie · 2 months ago

Text

✠ Prelude

The summoning.

Synopsis; You summon something far more ancient and dangerous than the little pest demon you wanted to use against a bully.

Pairing; Sukuna Ryomen x Reader

Content; sfw, threats, talk of violence and Christianophobia (he talks about burning down a church but it's a church of witches?), CAOS!Universe, witch!reader, curse!sukuna

Words; 2,9K

A/N; My first writing! Well not actually, but after my 'rebrand' and hiatus at least. Hope you enjoy!

The air is thick, heavy thrum of Satanic energy palpable as you chant out of your Grimoire. Candles form a circle, their flames flickering when gusts of wind whirl through the room. Sneakily summoning demons in the Spellman sisters' attic was probably not the smartest thing you've ever done, but then again, that bitch Celesta and her sisters deserved it.

The pest demon, Festeris, you were calling forth, was easily banishable, but still a literal pest to have around. She was a succuba, one of the stronger lust demons. Indeed easy to banish, but hard to want her banished.

Singing in Latin, you feel the energy spike; the gates of Hell were opened. "By the power of the Dark Lord, I command the Pitts of Hell to open. Festeris, I call forth, hear me and answer!" Your hair sways in the wind, and you place your Grimoire aside. "Abyssus inferni, aperite viam, Succuna, qui sub terris latet. Venit ad nos, ferox et potens, ut potestas inferni in lucem venit."

The shadows twist. The black candles sputter, before guttering out completely. "Unholy mother," you curse. Something is wrong. Definitely wrong.

The mirror in the corner splinters with a loud crack, and the floor trembles as the darkness gathers in your circle. The offering plate, its grooves red with blood from old sacrifices, rumbles under your feet. A presence, ominous and furious, far darker than the lowly pest demon you meant to summon. More ancient, more malevolent than anything you've encountered in your time at the Academy of Unseen Arts.

Two- no four red eyes glowing down at you from the other end of the room, towering high above you. The wind gusts, candles aflame again, and you gasp. A figure rises before you, tall, dark and wrong in all the ways holy and unholy. It's two sets of crimson eyes meet yours, both amused and annoyed, lips curled in disdain. Black markings spread over his skin like branding, two sets of big, beefy arms crossing in front of a broad chest.

His presence burns in a way you're not familiar with, and your breath is stuck in your throat. He tilts his head, slowly, before speaking in a baritone that makes you want to hide and crawl away, or lean into it and drown. "Who dares awaken me from my slumber?"

A voice low and cruel, echoing off the stone walls, and a mouth showing a sharp set of canines as he speaks. He takes a step forward, the edges of his figure brimming with energy from the deepest depths of the Pitt, as if he is one with it. You can't move, can barely breathe, as he stands before you in all his unholy glory.

"A witch?", he sneers, leaning down slightly, as if to get a better look. "No. A child. Clever little lamb, summoning powers she doesn't understand." His second mouth — the one etched into his stomach — curls into a jagged grin.

"Shit," you curse, as soon as you break out of your stupor, reaching for your Grimoire. With a dagger in your hand — obsidian, blessed by the High Priest — you flip the pages, landing on the strongest banishing spell for demons you have.

He doesn't flinch. Instead, he watches you, all four of his eyes locked on your every movement, like a cat watching a bird flap its wings just a little too late. That jagged grin only widens.

You draw a ritual circle, with the ashes of an offering, fingers moving with practiced speed. Dagger to your palm, you whisper the chant, rushed but precise, and let your blood seal the banishment.

"In nomine Satanas, et in nomine inferni, ego te abicis. Abyssus inferni, aperi viam ad tuam domum!" Blood drips into ashes, the sigil colouring red as you speak up. "I command the demon, standing in my circle! Return to the Pits!"

This should work.

This always works.

The chant cuts through the air, strong and sharp, each word burning like purging fire. A wind kicks up, sweeping through the room, broken mirror glass rattling as it passes. Light bursts from the sigil, and then-

Nothing.

The glow sputters and dies like a match in water.

Your heart drops.

The ritual didn’t fail.

It was rejected.

He steps over the circle, through it, like your magic wasn't even there. The air ripples in his wake, warping the edges of reality. "You didn't summon a demon girl. You called forth a Curse." He leans down slightly, eyes boring into yours. His voice feels like velvet-wrapped razors, scratching at your skin.

His mouth — the lower one — opens just slightly. You swear you see rows of teeth that shouldn’t exist. "Try your parlour tricks again, and I’ll burn that Church of yours to cinders while you watch."

He pauses. Squints. "...Interesting." A low hum rumbles his chest. With a clawed black nail, he traces a symbol midair. One that you recognise. The same mark you have, etched into your skin, a reminder of your loyalties and a proud remnant of your Dark Baptism.

"How do you know that symbol?", you ask sharply, temporarily forgetting your fears. And why did he draw that? That mark - it's sacred. A promise between a witch and the Dark Lord only, like a personal code only between servant and master.

At your words, fierce and demanding, he tilts his head again, eyes narrowing. "How do I know this symbol?" he echoes. "Because I wore others like it on my skin long before your Dark Lord ever existed."

Silence.

"Because I remember the Old Tongue, the real magic, not the watered down theatre your High Priest teaches you." His eyes flick to your hand, to the blood — hungry — but he makes no move to cross the line. Yet.

"Your little Lucifer is a child playing with stolen fire." You try not to lash out, fear keeping you in check. But the heat in your chest twists. No one speaks about the Dark Lord like that - not without losing their soul.

"And you," he says, stepping closer to you, too close, "spoke my name. One no witch should know.” Instinctively, you created a salt circle, enhancing it with your bloodied hand, heart thundering in your chest, making you physically untouchable. For now, at least. He just watches silently, letting you create this fake sense of safety.

"You're a Forgotten One." It wasn't a question. He circles the outer edge of the blood-drawn barrier, slow and deliberate, a lion at the bars of a cage that exists more out of politeness than actual limitation. His presence thrums against your wards like pressure building under skin.

"That's what they called us, isn't it?", he says, "When your Church of Night swept in with robes and rituals and rules—burning our names from the stones, burying our temples beneath yours." He leans closer, and the flames of your candles flare, reacting to his proximity.

"But you, little witch, with your clever hands and thirst for vengeance, just opened the door." Eyes flash. "Accident? Or instinct?" Your hand aches from the open wound, blood dripping slow and steady now. The circle’s still strong — but not forever. And he knows it. He’s not in a rush.

He leans forward again, so close now that you can feel the heat radiating off him - but the boundary holds firm. "And now here I am. You called me forth. The question is… what will you do with me?"

"You tricked me", you hiss. How dare he come when he knows it wasn't him you were calling? "Demon or Curse, you sure behave the same. What I'll do with you? Banish you, of course." Sukuna’s eyes flash, the crimson glow burning brighter for a moment as if your words were a spark to his fury.

He tilts his head to one side, his expression shifting from irritation to something far more dangerous. "Tricked you?" He almost sounds amused. "Ah. So you’ve been tricked, have you? Poor little witch. So clever, and yet so naive." His voice drops, but it’s colder now — the words tasting like venom.

"I didn’t trick you. You think you can banish me? With what? A few broken words and a knife’s blood?" He takes a slow, deliberate step toward your barrier, and this time, the circle trembles under the weight of his presence.

"Let me make this clear: I am not a lesser demon, waiting to crawl back into some hole when you decide to wave your little rituals around. I don’t bow to your weak charms or your childish wards", snarled, enraged at the thought of even being compared to them.

He steps right up to the edge of your blood-wrought shield, his face inches from yours, and the air seems to tighten, becoming unbearably dense. "You think you can banish me? Force me back from where I came? That's cute." His second mouth opens, again, slow, twisted smile spreading across it.

"Go ahead. Try. See what happens." His teeth gleam in candlelight, sharp and predatory. The flames flicker violently, casting shadows that dance like living things.

He chuckles darkly. Your bloodied hand tightens around your dagger, knuckles white, as you stare down the cursed king before you. The air feels thick, stifling, with an energy more malevolent than your Dark Lord. How long can you hold on?

"Clutching that little knife like it will save you,” he taunts, his voice low and mocking. “You think that’s enough to defend yourself?"

The circle trembles.

His every movement reverberates through the air, like ripples in water. The barrier — your last line of defence — groans under his pressure. You can’t move it back. A second step against it, one slight misstep, and it will crack. The power he holds is undeniable. It’s not just raw strength - it’s ancient, primal.

You feel the tightness in your chest, the cold sweat slicking your skin, but you refuse to show it. "Have you realised it yet, little witch?", he coos, a strange purr. One that made your breath hitch and snaked its way around your heart, savouring every panicked thrum. "You can't banish me. You've already invited me."

Panic surges at your throat, the primal being in you responding to instinct. Flight. Your foot shifts back — just one step — and the boundaries splinter, the sigils faltering. A loud crack runs through the centre like a spider's web and it shatters completely.

You freeze, heart thundering in your chest, bloodied hand still gripping the dagger. The reality of your mistake hits harder than any spell ever could. Shit. There’s no way to escape now. No warding. No summon. No protection.

He steps forward, almost leisurely, but there’s a predatory gleam in his eyes as he crosses the broken circle. The room feels cold as he nears, the power radiating from him is suffocating. The atmosphere hums with dark energy, like the world itself is holding its breath.

"Such a delicate thing, that circle," he murmurs, his voice a mocking sneer. "One little slip... and poof. Gone." He stops just in front of you. His four eyes are focused op the blood still dripping from your hand, staining your white shirt, with a dangerous curiosity. As if wondering how you'll taste.

"I know you mortals always think things will work itself out", he continues, taking another step forward, and another, until you're pressed with your back against the wall. "But really? You thought it would be that easy?"

The knife clatters to the floor, its echo sharp and sudden in the silence that follows your retreat. You flinch back, the trembling in your hand spreading through your entire body, as if the reality of Sukuna’s presence is sinking in all at once. Your wound stings — the blood slick and hot against your skin — but you can barely focus on the pain now. The feeling of vulnerability rushes in, overwhelming.

The scent of your blood fills the air, and Sukuna’s second mouth twitches, as though it’s tempted to snap at the offering. But he holds back - for now. There’s an unsettling silence, broken only by the distant rumble of the storm outside, and you're speechless. Unsure if he's thinking about how exactly he'll devour you, or when he's going to do it.

Sukuna watches you, the amusement in his eyes deepening. He’s not rushing forward. He’s toying with you, enjoying this. "You seem nervous, witch," he muses, each movement a reminder of the danger he poses.

He crouches in front of you, his four eyes locking onto yours with a chilling intensity. There’s a sick amusement in the way he looks at your trembling form — the blood dripping from your palm, the weakness in your posture. To him, you’re a toy, a curiosity.

"I suppose I should thank you, though," he adds, almost playfully. "You were the one who woke me. You were the one who freed me. I don’t forget that."

The second mouth on his stomach twitches as if in agreement, its grin widening. It's as if Sukuna's very body is a reflection of his twisted, ancient power - even his hunger has more than one face.

Your eyes fluttered shut, whispers like prayers spilling from your lips. Bathed in candlelight, your pale face shimmered — delicate, like fear moulded into flesh, just the way he wanted.

"What do you plan on doing now, little one?" He leans in closer, just inches from your face, his breath warm against your bloodied skin, like a predator intimidating its meal.

"Beg for mercy? Try to fight me... with that little bit of strength left?" But you were prey, trapped and cornered - and never to be understimated. Your bloodied hand had steadily been bleeding into the grooves of the altar.

You meet Sukuna's gaze, and his expression flickers - a mix of confusion and realization as he watches your blood drip steadily into the grooves of the stone, slowly filling them beneath your feet. His four eyes narrow, and there’s a sharp, unexpected tension in his body. He moves as if to step back, but it's too late.

"Sanguis in sulcis, signum tuum accipe", you whisper more clearly now, repeating the same chant you were praying. "Hoc sacrificium, animum meum vincula. Nomen tuum invoco, tenebras tuae adfero."

The air in the room seems to shudder, a cold breeze whispering through the walls as the power of your chant builds. The blood, now absorbed into the stone, pulses with an otherworldly energy, the grooves lighting up faintly as they swallow your offering.

"What are you-" Sukuna's voice cuts off, his four eyes widening in recognition. He stumbles back, but not fast enough. The magic begins to solidify, swirling around you like a dark halo.

"In hoc oblatione, mens nostrae conexae erunt. Damnare me, damnare te, numquam separari," you called, with fright but unbreakable determination. The symbols in the stone glow a deep, blood-red as your chant pushes forward with a force of will that surprises even you.

"No," he growls, more a low hiss than a command. "You think you can bind me? You think your little magic-" But his voice falters, once again, as the powers you’re calling forth intensify, his words fading into an almost reluctant silence. The symbols tighten, locking the ritual in place. He’s being drawn in, whether he wants to or not.

The energy around you thrums, a pulse like a heartbeat - like something ancient waking up. The very air seems to crackle with the magic of the ritual, your blood acting as the final thread that ties you to him.

Sukuna snarls, smile faltering for the first time. "You think you can control me? Bind a curse of my calibre?" Frustration grows in his tone, his voice deepening.

But you can feel it, now - a raw, unmistakable feeling- a bond. Binding him and you as one, keeping him, preventing him, from wandering on this earth as he pleased.

The magic of your blood, now intertwined with his being, is carving a new bond - a mutual connection. He can't break it. Not without hurting himself in the process. It's a gamble, and the tension in the room is thick enough to choke on.

"I'll make you regret this," Sukuna growls, but there’s something deeper, more cautious in his voice now. "Don't think for a second that I’m done with you, witch."

But you barely register his words. Once the euphoria of the ritual fades, the weight of your exhaustion presses on you all at once. Despite the overwhelming exhaustion, despite the sense of your energy being siphoned away, you know - you did it.

Sukuna is bound to you.

You feel him there, in your bones, in your mind - a presence, like a shadow lurking just beneath your skin. His power still coils, shifting like a beast too large for the cage you've created, but it's contained. For now.

He holds your gaze for one last time, his eyes linger on yours, burning with quiet fury. Then he vanishes into the shadows, swallowed by his own darkness.

As you fall to your knees, gasping for breath, you can hear his voice in the back of your mind. A whisper, cold and dangerous, but somehow... distant, as if he's struggling against the bond just as much as you are.

"You might have bound me, witch", his voice rumbles, an odd mix of grudging respect and simmering rage. "But don't think for a second this will be easy for you."

Your vision blurs completely, the edges of the room dissolving into shadows, the light from the candles flickering out, one by one. The power of the ritual, the connection to Sukuna, pulls at you in strange, unfamiliar ways, but even that fades as your consciousness slips further away.

And then, nothing.

To be continued....

Curated by Vinnie | The Architect. Plagiarism not authorized.

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk sukuna #sukuna #ryomen x reader #ryomen sukuna #jjk au

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seyvia · 3 months ago

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A Months journey from Spellbyndell, some time after the Dark lords defeat...

Regalia's champions, affectionately dubbed the 'Roses of Thorns,' are reveling at their campsite, filled with laughter and libations. Among them, the formidable knight Parish is seen playfully bantering with Captain Brom. "So, what’s your game plan when we return home, big guy?" Parish teases. "Honestly, no grand plans. I’ll be happy just to get everyone back safe and lend a hand wherever it’s needed," Brom replies. "Oh really? You know~ If you really wanted to help out, you’d rescue me from the dating scene!" she exclaims, bursting into laughter. "You're such a brute... don't you know anything about romance, Parish?" he asks, amused by her continued giggles. "Very well, I accept. Perhaps I can teach you a thing or two." he suggests. A grin remains on Parish's face as it quickly turns into a vibrant shade of red.

The focus shifts to Avi, prince Lumin's childhood friend, whose musings are interrupted by Sir Lorcan. "I've noticed a certain hero is missing. Why not go fetch him?" Lorcan suggests. "Nah, let him wallow; he’d just bring the mood down," Avi replies. "But he can't stay like that forever! You two are practically brothers! What good are you if you can't pull him out of his slump?" Lorcan insists, nudging Avi to rise. "I'm not taking responsibility for that! Being friends with the prince just gives me the right to kick his butt," Avi retorts. "Then maybe he needs a solid kick in the rear!" Lorcan exclaims, kicking Avi's chair out from under him, forcing him to rise to his feet. "Sigh~ What a pain," Avi mutters as he makes his way to Prince Lumin's tent.

Hay party pooper! your people are missing their hero! Avi remarks with sarcasm as he nears the entrance of the tent. "Really? Brooding in the buff, you are so dramatic! I should've been a bard, I would have made a fortune using you as my muse." Avi jests. "Whose dramatic? You haven't a musical bone in your body, you'd only make a fortune in debt. Besides I wasn't brooding." Retorts Lumin as he turns to face his friend.

Anyway, how's the research going? Avi inquires, lowering his voice to a more concerned tone. After a brief silence, Lumin finally speaks up.

"I've gone through every grimoire, every journal, and even the smallest scribble the dark Lord had in his possession, and none of them contain the curse he used on my mother therefore, I can't make a proper cure. " He pauses before adding, "However, we do know that the Imp believed the Springtide Scepter could heal him."

"... But he was wrong?" Avi asks. "Indeed," Lumin confirms. "The magic within the royal scepter, better known as the Springtide, could only make new things, like the rebirth of spring, which explains how he used it to conjure the creatures of decay. He was able to use it on himself, but it only contained the curse in him like a cocoon, slowly transforming him into something potentially far more dangerous than what we encountered, and that's why the scepter had to be shattered. To undo everything he had made with it."

"Right. So... what does this mean? If the scepter was useless to us all along and it couldn't have healed queen Aine, are we really back to square one?" Avi questions anxiously. "No no, not entirely." Lumin reassures him. "Ever since we left Spellbyndell, I've been researching mystical gems because of the dark lords interest in the Springtide, and only recently have I found something promising: Hematite! By applying Lunar magic to this stone, we can prevent the curse from taking my Mother's life prematurely. As long as I keep it charged and she wears it, she'll live on normally." "THAT'S GREAT! Where do we get some!?" Avi exclaims enthusiastically. "I'm not sure yet, but I have an idea." Admits Lumin.

"GUESS WHO'S GETTING MARRIED!" Suddenly shouts Parish from behind Avi startling him. "Think you can hitch me and Brom up tonight Lum?!" Parish asks with a charming smile.

"You and the—CAPTAIN?! When did this happen?!" Avi exclaims in bewilderment. Lumin, initially surprised, softens his voice into amusement and responds with, "I-uh... Unfortunately I can't officiate outside of Spellbyndell, Parish... Though I can sympathies with your eagerness; spring is an ideal time for weddings." Avi, in utter shock from what he's hearing interjects, "How are you so calm about this?! Parish! Dose Capt. even know about your plans?" Parish begins shaking her head up and down to imply a yes at Avi's question confidently.

Lumin looks over at his distressed friend, and with a pat on the back replies, "They've been flirting for months, and I even noticed—how did it go over your head? Besides Avi, It's the end of an era and a birth of anew.

"I expect multiple weddings will be held once we're finally home."

Before - Journey forth

#fairytale affair #let me know what you think of this format!! I personally really like it #it requires less editing when the words are all dethatched from the images.#fun fact: Lady Parish told everyone but Captain Brom about their wedding lol! she's a werewolf. very puppy energy for an intimidating woman #This part of the story is supposed to show you that it can be funny along with inming you with what's going on with lumin.#He's hopeful! it's not all at deaths door for him after all.#also his men are all cuties & I wanted to show them to yuh<3 #also... is he too pretty? Lumin? do I need to hit in the face with a lute? I can change him I'm not scared.🪕💨👋🏻#fairytale affair bc #fairytale affair Batchelor challenge

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theemporium · 2 years ago

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🐈‍⬛ w/Norstappen being like :O the first time their witchy s/o does magic in front of them pretty pls 🙏🏻 ?

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

Despite the boys knowing your secret, they had never actually seen you perform any magic.

They had made plenty of jokes in the meantime. It was mostly Lando, but Max had his moments too. They would affectionately call you countless famous witch and wizard names. They would joke about you throwing them in a cauldron if they pissed you off. Countless pictures of brushes and brooms were sent to you on a daily basis. Sometimes they would even joke about the fact Sassy and Jimmy only liked you because of a witch’s connection to cats.

It was safe to say their knowledge on witchcraft was limited, but despite their jokes and remarks, they did want to learn about it. It was a massive part of your life, of your identity too. They wanted to know every part of you, they wanted to love every part of you—even if the jokes wouldn’t necessarily stop.

You had been teaching them things in passing, explaining anything when you noticed the way their brows would furrow in confusion. Whether it was when you were making a list of ingredients you needed (“No, Lando, I can’t just buy them from the grocery store.”) or preparing weeks in advance for a certain spell (“Max, baby, I love you but witchcraft isn’t just about shoving things into a bubbling pot.”).

But they had never actually seen you use magic until that night.

You had been so caught up in your work that you hadn’t even realised the time until a message pinging from your phone broke you out of your concentration. You swore under your breath, rushing towards the kitchen to get started on dinner in the hopes it wouldn’t be too late. After all, it had been your night to cook.

You hadn’t even heard the boys come in. You were rushing around the kitchen like a madman, pots and pans and ingredients flying around the room. There were pots bubbling on the stove, there was a knife cutting vegetables on a cutting board, there were unused dishes being washed in the sink and at the centre of the chaos stood you, cookbook in one hand whilst the other orchestrated the world around you as you read through the recipe.

“Holy shit.”

Your head snapped to the side to find both boys standing in the doorway, jaws slack and eyes wide as they watched the scene in front of them with the same level of shock and excitement as kids coming down to presents under the Christmas tree.

“Hey,” you breathed out and gave them a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry, dinner will be ready soon but I got caught up in—”

“You really are like Hermione Granger!” Lando exclaimed, an excited laugh as he stepped into the kitchen, ducking when a carrot whooshed over his head.

“I—” You blinked, a little taken aback.

“Do you do this every time?” Max asked as he followed the Brit in, only to pause for a second. “Why have you never done this in front of us before?”

“Yeah, this is so fucking cool!” Lando grinned, turning to you with a glimmer in his eyes.

“I…didn’t realise it was something you wanted to see so badly,” you admitted with a small laugh, though something in your chest warmed at how enthusiastic they were about your magic. A small part of you feared they would be scared by it.

“You’re controlling all of this?” Max questioned.

“Every single thing,” you confirmed with a nod.

“How the fuck do you do that?” Lando murmured as his eyes focused on the plates setting themselves on the dining table connected to the kitchen.

“Practice,” you said with a smile before leaning in to peck his cheek. “I’ll show you more after dinner.”

Lando’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

You nodded.

“Maybe even pick something in that grimmy thing you have,” Max added, looking a little sheepish about his request even if he tried to sound confident.

“My grimoire, baby,” you corrected with a small laugh.

“Yes, that. Magic cookbook,” he said with a completely serious face. “Show us what our girl can do.”

“Well, right now your girl wants to eat dinner,” you snorted. “But if Lando eats his greens, I’ll show you a few spells after dinner.”

“This is bribery.”

“Lando, I will shove that broccoli down your throat if I have to.”

Lando gaped at the Dutchman before rolling his eyes. “It’s not my first choice but geez, fine.”

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galaxysupreme17 · 6 months ago

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Shielded by Chaos

Okay, so I got this chapter idea when I was scrolling through Tumblr and saw a post by @hope-you-brought-kneepads-bitch of Agatha, Rio, and Billy, but I wanted to change it slightly! Credit goes to them!

Y/n = Your Name

Coven of Chaos x fem!teen!reader

The Witches Road had been a long and harrowing journey, but Y/n had come out of it stronger—or so she’d thought. Being part of the Coven of Chaos and the Young Avengers meant balancing two very different worlds. Unfortunately, it felt like neither of those worlds was going particularly well today.

The house was calm with energy, unlike how it usually is with the Coven of Chaos under one roof. Agatha was in the living room, lazily flipping through one of her old grimoires while sipping tea. Rio was in the kitchen, sharpening a dagger that she absolutely didn’t need to sharpen but did anyway to make a point. Lilia sat by the window, meditating with a faint golden aura surrounding her. Jen was sprawled on the floor, sketching intricate sigils in her notebook, while Alice quietly sipped her coffee, pretending not to eavesdrop on everyone.

The mood in the house was peaceful, at least until Y/n stormed in and slammed the door behind her.

"What happened?" Agatha questioned, looking up at the youngest witch.

"Nothing," Y/n muttered.

Agatha narrowed her eyes. "Don’t lie to me."

Y/n dropped her bag on the floor and flopped onto the couch, laying her head in Agatha’s lap and glaring at the ceiling. Agatha’s fingers instinctively began combing through Y/n’s hair, gently untangling the strands. She didn’t answer. Agatha exchanged a glance with Rio, who had wandered in from the kitchen with the knife still in hand.

"Fine! Rio, make her tell us," Agatha eyed the green witch.

Without missing a beat, Rio unsheathed the knife and pressed the flat edge lightly against Y/n’s throat.

"Tell us, abominación," Rio said.

Y/n groaned, shoving the knife away. "Geez, stop doing that! And stop calling me an abomination—it’s not true, and you know it."

"Ooh, drama," Jen remarked, looking up from her notebook.

"Shh, let it unfold," Alice added, sipping her coffee.

"Good, you can still talk. Now tell us why you’re miserable. Your mood is sucking all the good energy out of the room," Agatha pressed, her fingers now tapping against Y/n's head.

"I don’t think some of the other Young Avengers like me," Y/n admitted finally, her voice tinged with frustration. "We had a team meeting today, and a couple of them were ignoring all my ideas. And I don’t like theirs much, either."

Agatha’s eyebrow quirked. "The weird children are making fun of a witch? Well, that’s not surprising."

"What were your ideas?" Rio asked.

Y/n shrugged, avoiding eye contact. "Well, we shouldn’t be going after villains who aren’t committing any crimes. Attacking someone when they’re not doing anything doesn't make sense because that’ll just set them off again."

"And?" Agatha prompted, her fingers now lightly rubbing Y/n's head in a calming rhythm.

Y/n hesitated. Her lips pressed into a thin line.

"Go on," Rio said, moving the knife back toward Y/n.

"Wait! Okay, it’s just… Well, they think that Agatha needs to be locked away for her crimes and that Death shouldn’t be on Earth because it’s unnatural, and she needs to go back to her job of essentially being a cosmic janitor. That’s why I came back early," Y/n blurted out.

The room went silent. Even Lilia’s meditative aura dimmed slightly as she opened her eyes.

Agatha tapped her nails against the armrest. "Hmm."

Rio tightened her grip on the knife, her knuckles whitening.

"Rio?" Y/n asked nervously.

"Can I?" Rio asked, her voice eager.

"How badly do you want to?" Agatha replied, studying her wife’s expression.

Rio’s eyes lit up with a dangerous gleam. "As much as I want to rip Billy's soul from his body and finally get what I need from him."

"Go on, then," Agatha said with a nod.

"Yes!" Rio disappeared in a cloud of green smoke.

"Well, that escalated quickly," Jen said.

"I give it ten minutes before Kate Bishop calls," Alice remarked.

Y/n sat up straighter, her eyes widening. "Uh, where’s she going?"

"To have a chat with your "teammates,"" Agatha explained casually, her fingers returning to stroke Y/n’s hair.

Y/n’s phone buzzed on the coffee table. She picked it up and saw Kate's name flashing on the screen. She hesitated before answering.

"Hey, Kate. Oh… is she? Okay, well… Yeah, I don’t think he’ll say anything again." She hung up and looked at Agatha. "That was fast. She’s pissed off."

"You said she can’t kill, right?" Y/n asked.

"No, she can’t. But she can come really, really close to it," Agatha admitted.

Before Y/n could respond, Rio reappeared in the room, her expression calm and collected. To Y/n’s surprise, she wasn’t covered in blood.

"They won’t ever ignore or argue with you again," Rio declared.

"Thanks?" Y/n said hesitantly.

"No maiming?" Agatha asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No. This was just a warning," Rio replied with a smirk.

"Boring," Alice commented.

"Effective, though," Jen countered.

Y/n sighed, burying her face in her hands. "Great. The next meeting will be stressful."

Agatha’s expression softened. She leaned forward, resting her hand gently on Y/n’s shoulder. "Listen, kid. Those weirdos might be your teammates, but you have us. We’re your family. Never forget that."

Rio nodded, sitting beside her. "No one messes with our girl and gets away with it."

Lilia’s soft voice chimed in from the corner. "The universe can be cruel, but it’s nothing compared to us when someone hurts one of our own."

Jen and Alice nodded in agreement, their usual sarcasm replaced with quiet determination.

Agatha’s hand moved to Y/n’s hair again, her touch tender as she carefully smoothed the strands. "You’ve got more power in your little finger than most of those kids combined. Don’t let their nonsense shake you."

Y/n managed a small smile, feeling the weight on her shoulders lift slightly. Agatha and Rio were overbearing at times, but their protectiveness was a reminder that she wasn’t alone in this chaotic world.

"Thanks, Agatha. Thanks, Rio," Y/n murmured.

"That’s the spirit," Agatha said with a smirk.

Lilia added, "And if you ever doubt yourself, remember that you’re part of this family for a reason. We don’t choose just anyone."

#x reader #reader insert #agatha x daughter! reader #agatha all along #agatha x rio #agathario x daughter!reader #rio vidal #agatha harkness #agatha harkness x daughter!reader #agatha all along season 1

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