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pedgito · 6 months ago

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𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐁𝐎𝐘 | Emperor Geta x reader

summary | Emperor Geta takes a liking to you but ends up with far more than he bargained for.

author's note | full blame on @hauntedhowlett. also don't look at me and tell me that man doesn't have a mommy kink, he does.

content warning | 18+ MDNI, sub!geta, dom!reader, mentions of spousal/child loss, brief mentions of pregnancy, subtle mommy kink, lactation kink (titty suckin' hell yeah), oral (f receiving), use of sweet boy/good boy, unprotected piv

word count — 4.2k

A widow, a mourning would-be mother—naive amongst your youthful glaze, the softness in your features as you stare down the two brothers from across the long, crowded table. It has only been a fortnight now, but your face proves entirely unsuspecting.

This meeting was about you—not of your late husband, not of legality or current issues to address, but your qualification to have a spot amongst men. Most were unaware of your puppetry with your late husband and his place in the senate—an older man triple your age that had brought you for a price.

Easily to manipulate, easy to convince.

“There is no place here for a mockery like this,” An older gentleman with stringy, greying hair chirped up from his seat, fist tucked under his wrinkled chin, eyes carefully examining your figure, licking his split, dry lips, “she is young—negotiate a price with her father and—”

“He is dead,” You state flatly, a piercing glare shot down the line toward the spoken male, seemingly ticked by the sound of your voice, expecting submissiveness, “And I will assure the price is one you will never afford.”

Caracalla, as aloof as he was, seemed to snicker at that. A high-pitched cackle that slips from his lips as Geta raises a brow, his mouth hidden behind his curled fingers, opposite hand spread out wide on the arm of his throne.

“I am well versed,” You address both of the emperors directly, “Educated—my husband would be displeased to hear me say this, but he was not the smartest man. I have lost more than just him, but I am not here to beg.”

There was no love lost, fortunately. He wasn’t a good or bad man, only a man. He frequented brothels often, voiced his displeasure when you weren’t serving him correctly, and only forced a child upon you because of societal standards. It was distressing, still deep in your own grief as you avoided the deadlocked stares from the surrounding men, praying that one of the two young emperors would have a soft spot, or even a weakness.

You would find it, if needed. But, Geta’s amusement was a comforting sign.

The same man, displeased with your presence, grips hard enough at his wooden cane that it starts to crack, “Better yet, force her to work in the brothel. Plenty of use for you there,” His gaze switches from the head of the table to you, nodding his head with a triumphant smirk.

“As I am sure your wife would love to hear about your visits,” There’s a collective tenseness, both of hands gripping the table and men shifting in their seats, eyes flickering back and forth between the volleying conversation, the dueling man’s face going slack, “do not act surprised, you keep company of men with loose lips, be thankful one of them has died with the rest of your pitiful secrets.”

Geta clears his throat then, sharing a brief moment with his brother as they nod in unison.

“I will consider this,” He begins, tongue swiping along the inside of his bottom lip, “given the suddenness of—”

“Your highness, do not fall victim to her deception, she is—”

“If you value that head of yours,” Geta’s words are biting, quick, “you will not interrupt me when I am speaking.”

He’s highly temperamental, the dagger he’s spent twirling in his hand for the past several minutes tossing lazily against the wood as he flicks a hand up dismissively, “Get out of my sight,” He excuses them all, aside from his finger pulling like it was held on a string to aim in your direction, “you—stay.”

You’ve just resigned yourself to death, surely.

–

The wine is dark, staining his upper lip as he drinks, clunky rings tapping against the glass of his cup as he passes you off a cup of your own. He had his own private quarters, opposite of his brother and hidden down a long, trailing hallway, an office-like room attached to his quarters.

You weren’t going to defy his command as unsettling as it felt, his glittering and colorful robe dragging against the tile floor as you stood silent, a comfortable distance away.

Your dress was unbearably tight, back straight as an arrow while your shoulders ached, but you didn’t waver, didn’t slouch. Your breasts spilled over the fabric, barely covered by the shawl draped over your shoulders, signs of motherhood that had yet to dissipate. You cleared your throat, shuffling quietly on your feet.

“I do not like nervousness,” Geta announces, turning his head over his shoulder as he swivels his body to lean against the edge of the desk—the room was clearly unused, aside from now.

“I am not nervous,” It wasn’t that at all, rather an uncertainty.

“Drink,” He suggested, nodding his head toward your full glass, “it will help.”

He doesn’t seem to believe you and you defy his order further, traveling toward him to rest the glass against the desk, hands settled at your stomach as you look at him, his eyes carefully tracking your movement as he sloshes the wine around in his mouth, a fingertip trailing the rim before he mirrors your actions.

“G—your highness,” You begin indecisively, “forgive me for sounding…selfish, but is there something you require? Do I serve a purpose being here?”

“What are your current living arrangements?” He asks suddenly, fingers curled around the edge of the desk, tilting his head in question.

“I am living under the selflessness of a senator’s wife—though, if he knew, it would not be welcomed with open arms,” Geta is aware of your steadfast gaze, rare that you ever looked anywhere but his face, not the usual roaming nervousness he had become acquainted with.

“Ah,” He chuckles, “If I may pry—well, I am…is it—”

The man who had challenged you earlier with a wife too gracious for her own good.

“Yes, unfortunately.”

Geta contemplates—he wasn’t against you having a voice within his council, aware that it wouldn’t be well-met, but there was a way to ensure safety and submission; he's learned to mold and shape to achieve what he wants at the lift of a finger. It was a mix of power and practiced manipulation.

“You will relocate here, to the palace,” He informs, “as an extra measure and because I am fond of your…bite,” His mouth upturns in a lazy smirk, “you will be well cared for here, I assure you.”

A man who was far too fond of his toys, you notice the glint in his eyes as soon as his expression morphs. Greed; he could have everything and even that wouldn’t be enough.

It was only minimally amusing, his confidence.

And within a few hours and a few snaps of his fingers, you were set up comfortably in your own room, a pleasant conversation with his less than stable brother and the obedient monkey perched on his shoulder—he was endearing, but visibly paranoid.

You refuse the help of the servants as you attempt to retire for the night, brow furrowed in frustration as you reach unsuccessfully for the tied string of your dress, resilient and stubborn in your unwillingness for help as you curse to yourself, half a second from ripping the fabric in half before the door to your room is opening quietly, creaking on it’s hinges.

“I assure you, they are here for a reason,” Geta remarks fondly, the faint fire of the candles lit around your room painting him in a warm glow, softening an unusually rigid man, he approaches without a word as you relent, hands curling around the edge of a nearby chair, his hand working methodically along the knotted fabric at your back, a few minutes passing before he’s tugging it loose, a breath of relief slipping beyond your lips.

Geta takes a few steps back, ringed fingers interlocked behind his back as he watches you expectantly, watching quietly as you turn with your arm clutching the fabric to your chest, hair loosened, your face relaxing into a natural scowl.

“Do you require anything of me?” You ask, curious of his lingering presence but not feeling threatened or undermined—shockingly, he seemed unsteady. Unsure. His confidence failed him for the first time in his young life, “If there is…something you would like to address, I will listen.”

“When did you marry?” An odd start, but you answer with ease.

“Fifteen—he promised my family wealth, it was a simple trade. They died not long after. Tuberculosis, or so I was told,” You shift from one bare foot to another as Geta’s lips pull together in a narrow line, “You know, we are not much different.”

That grabs his attention, his eyebrow raising in a silent question as you approach slowly, arms crossed over your chest now, holding the fabric in place, “Coyness is unbecoming, Emperor.”

“Enlighten me,” Geta replies, his restless hands finding their way over the collars of his robe as he tightens it around himself, joining him near the end of your bed—a strange thing to claim; this entire room, yours.

“If my math proves me right, we are of the same birth year,” You begin, “—those men, your advisors, they severely underestimate you and Caracalla. They are scared of you, yes. But, if given the chance, they would strike you down without a thought,” He turns his head, blinking away a sour expression, feeling particularly bare despite his state of dress.

Your gaze was powerful, intense, even Geta could not handle it.

“I am trying to say that I understand,” You clarify, tilting your head to catch his eyeline, reaching out slowly to provide a comforting touch, hands curling around his wrist, “not that I understand your role and the burden it carries, but being young and overlooked. I have felt that, I still feel it.”

He’s never been approached so openly—though he prefers the proclivity of men who bow down without question, his psyching was always searching for something more. A poor boy without love, or meaningful relations. You offer a soft smile as he turns his head to you.

“You came here for a reason,” You remind him, “—make it clear.”

His eyes follow the steady rise and fall of your chest, your fingers curling over the rough, coarse lining of the dress as it pushes your breasts up, his tongue trailing along his bottom lip in a wordless hunger.

“Did you plan to force yourself upon me?” You ask curiously, his face flushing with embarrassment, “Or, perhaps, hope that I would be charmed by you?”

“It is rare that I am denied,” He explains, like a petulant kid preparing to be denied their favorite toy, “—but, you are not mine.”

“I belong to no one,” You clarify, “I am not a whore, or a servant. We are…equals, yes?”

“Not entirely,” Geta counters, still donning the crown on his head—more subtle than the formal one he wears around, a delicate band of gold leaves adorned with gems, “but, it seems—”

You smirk slightly to yourself as you reach forward with one hand, plucking the band gently from his hair and tossing it aside to the bed, fingertips trailing down to his chin as you tug his face to look at you.

“You need not put on a performance for me,” You comfort him, his features softening as his eyes flicker toward the crown, “it is as simple as just asking, Geta.”

At level ground, it feels more appropriate. If he wanted your head, he would have it.

Eagerness invades his mind, clawing forward as his palms form to your neck, jaw, lips pressing against yours with impatience, a hum of hunger laying in wait in his throat. For a second, you allow it. Indulge in the simplicity of desire that has been long forgotten, sighing fervently against his mouth before you’re taking grip of his robe and forcing him back, his eyes blackened with lust and his mouth open, blinking with confusion.

“Ask me,” You demand him, “I have allowed so many in my life to take, not this. Not you.”

Geta clears his throat hastily, closing his mouth, gathering the immense willpower it took to listen, comply, “May I—may I kiss you?”

You nod, a grin spreading across your face as he lunges forward eagerly once more, held back by your surprisingly powerful grip, unaware of how your dress had shifted down, held up solely by the body contact against Geta, chest to chest.

It was teasing, taunting him with the ability and control you had over him, lips grazing against his testingly as he laughs too, a quiet and joyous noise as you finally let him have it, arms wrapping over his shoulders as his own hands roam down your sides, around your back and down your side, squeezing a hand at your thigh and bringing it up, high enough that it can rest at his hips, his fingers kneading into the exposed skin near the slit of your gown, toying with the delicate skin that he could reach.

You revel in the neediness, an intense feeling of want washing over you, his nose following the lines of your face as they nudge at your chin, forcing your head up as his kisses trail down, spit slicked lips pressing into your skin, bodies separating as you dress falls, as bare as he under his own robe, plump breasts pulling his eyes down, a slow blink and an instant flick up towards your face.

“Seems the effects of motherhood are taking their time to dissipate,” You admit, his fingers twitching at the sight of them, “If that is an issue we can end this he—”

“No,” He growls, “it—sorry, it is not.”

You reach for his hands quietly, his gaze following your direction as you cup them over your breasts, the heavy weight of them in his hands, the gentle squeeze that would otherwise make you wince but instead has your thighs clenching together. Geta was practically salivating at the sight, mesmerized by the fullness and warmth, his thumbs rubbing carefully over your hardened nipples, a small opaque drop of liquid painting his finger.

You grab his thumb suddenly, shoving his hand away at the sight.

“Despite a loss my body continues to provide,” You explain, “ It is not a lot, but it lingers.I have tried…everything to will it away.”

“Why?” Geta asks, looking up at you with newfound curiosity.

“It is not ideal, you see—”

“Who has told you this?” Geta pesters, watching the liquid drip down his finger before he brings it to his mouth, “I see no issue.”

Your nose twitches in uncertainty, his fingers trailing an abstract pattern into the underside of your breasts, around the side, admiring, “I have always been curious,” Geta admits, his voice trailing as you slowly guide yourself to sit on the bed, the emperor following in suit as he kneels against the edge of the mattress between your open thigh, “did he appreciate your body for everything that it was?”

“He was barren,” You admit, “He liked my mouth on his cock and that was all. He did not care for much else or my pleasure at that, he was much too inadequate anyways.”

He doesn’t address the glaringly obvious admittance—a much longer story for another time that neither of you cared for at the moment, “May I?” He asks politely, his hot breath ghosting over your chest as you nod, his mouth latching onto your skin in an instant.

It starts at the center of your chest, face buried between your breasts as he pulls his robe open, aided down by the push of your hands, his alabaster skin contrasting the plum sheets, his knee rising briefly to push into the sheets as you catch a glimpse of his cock, hanging heavily and intimidating in its size, anticipating of the stretch if you allowed him so far.

His tongue follows a planned path, along the underside of your breasts and around your nipple, grazing over the pebbled skin with the subtle taste of sweetness seeping into his taste buds as his lips wrap around and such, the faintest push of teeth in your skin as his eyes peer up at you, your brow furrowing in delight at the sudden shock to your cunt, nothing like you’ve felt before.

You did not know pleasure like this, a fair trade. It was a shock to the system.

He’s looking for acknowledgement, trading off to share the same care to the other breasts, his free hand trailing to the side of your face and under your neck, cradling you with a gentle touch as the hand on your breasts curls around and squeezes, sucking gently at your breasts as his head tilts into your comforting touch, your opposite hand turning as you run your knuckles alongside his jaw.

“Sweet boy,” You praise, “is that what you wanted?”

As if he hadn’t been eyeing you the entire meeting, breasts squeezed together as you leaned daringly over the table to argue with your aggressor, quenching the hunger all day with a steady diet of wine and the assorted fruit placed around the palace, always within reach, watching you quietly.

He nods slightly, distantly, as he’s focused on his current task.

“Geta,” Formalities forgotten by now, his eyes widened as you stare at him, rising on your elbows with a waiting expression, “have you lost your tongue?”

“It would—it would seem I have not,” He chuckles with a knowing smirk, swiping his tongue around your nipple in a circular motion, “I am pleased, yes.”

He shifts his arms around you, curled fists landing in the sheets beside your head, his cock sliding against the inside of your thigh as he settles to his knees, a fresh flush to his chest as he admires your state of nakedness, trailing two wondering fingers from your chest to your pelvic bone, a slow dance in the low light of the room.

You nudge his hand away, “You are eager,” You note with a fond tone, watching as began to lean into you, eager to capture your lips once more, but your fingers are pressing over his lips before they reach their destination, shaking your head in disapproval, “I have ideas for better use of that mouth, Emperor.”

He pulls back with grin, his teeth dragging over his bottom lip as you filter your fingers through his ginger hair, curling your hand over the back of his head as he bows, settling on his belly with his cock trapped between the sheets, slowly his nose buries into the coarse curls, his tongue dragging down the seam of your pussy.

Geta can only liken it to a taste of the divine, or the closest he would ever reach, settled between your open legs with a mission to please, to satisfy. And for the first time in his life—serve someone other than himself. Normally he would bark at the informality of things, only allow his given title, a strict instruction of a bowed head and obedience, but he finds himself bending to your rule and dropping to his knees, if you demand.

“You have your wits and sharp tongue,” He hums against your cunt, a delightful noise slipping out as you tug at his hair, “I suggest you put them to good use.”

As he does, you find yourself drifting.

He is precise, thorough—which is not at all expected from a man of his status, or any man, really. They were never concerned with the pleasure of anyone but themselves, but Geta has proven you wrong in many ways as undesirable as his ruling may be.

You only cared for your life anymore, witnessing how delicate it could be when it came to everyone around you.

He likes to watch, too. It isn’t at all surprising, eager for praise he brings you to a quick and intense, but fleeting orgasm. It swells in your stomach, the heat pooling before it explodes, hearing the satisfied groan as he licks you clean, murmuring a shaky, “Good–good b-boy,” as you force yourself to catch your breath, allowing him to climb his way back up your body with the head of his cock nudging at your entrance, both of you sighing into the shared space as your foreheads meet and Geta was completely at your control, awaiting your next command.

“Are things often like this?” You ask curiously, “Is this what you seek?”

Domination; someone to submit to.

In a daze, he shakes his head, lips parted slightly.

“Do you enjoy that I make you feel this way?”

He smiles, sated, nodding in response.

“I want to feel you,” It was a whispered request, his eyes searching your face—again, even just the nudge of his cock between your folds was enough to make you tense and you find your own fingers drifting between your legs, dipping inside of you as he looks down, mesmerized as you guide his hand to his cock, wrapping your fingers around his as you work together in tandem.

When his brow draws together, you guide him inside of you, staving off his impending orgasm.

“Slow,” You instruct, hands traveling to grip his face, nodding his head between your hold, “You are…quite large, I am not used to that,” Geta seems to find a surge of confidence at that, leaning forward greedily to capture your lips, his teeth dragging along the fleshy skin as he angles his and pulls back slowly, entering you at the same pace despite the impatient shake to his body, eager for more, “slow—slow, look at me,”

“You’re obedient,” You praise, “far more than I expected.”

“My brother likens you to a goddess,” Geta notes, the odd timing sending you into a gentle snort of laughter, “I must say I agree, you are mesmerizing.”

“I prefer Caracalla not be a topic as your cock is buried inside of me,” You retort with a kind smile, his own morphing into a frown of concentration as your knees hike around his hips, encourage him to lean his weight against you as he rocks his hips, a gentle rhythm that is drowned out by the sounds of the city at night.

His itching impatience grows tiresome, gripping desperately at whatever skin he could reach, pitiful moans of pleasure inked into your skin with the silent plea of more—please, more?

“Make me come once more,” You urge him, “and take what you need.”

It was all he needed to hear, taking the opportunity to slip out of you as he guiding you toward your stomach, guiding one knee up toward your chest as he hovered over you, turning your head to face him as he pushed his cock back inside of you, your walls fluttering around him in satisfaction of being filled again.

There was a perfect view of the sky this way, a small alcove open to the night breeze, stars twinkling against the contrasting colors of midnight, “It is beautiful,” He begins, not admiring the same sight as you, a shakiness to his voice as he pumped his hips at a nearly unbearable pace, eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure overtook you.

He’s panting into your skin, a feeling you’ve experienced in plenty of other circumstances, with a well-versed ability to separate yourself from your body as men chase their pleasure, but with the emperor, it was a different experience.

A cacophony of small whimpers followed by an utterances of words you’re not sure he or his brother have spoke often, “Please—-please, may I—“

The gravity of the situation flips as you realize your mistake, giving a man with far too much reach and power any type of influence over you, your brain searching for a way to counter his plea as you turn your body, arm wrapping around the back of his neck as he shakes with his impending orgasm.

Words are lost, unable to speak before he’s pulling out of you, the drip of his warm seed coating your skin, the tight grip at your chest loosening in an instant.

Thank the gods, you pray silently.

“I apologize,” He breathes heavily, bottom lip swollen and red from the mutilation of his teeth, chest flushed bright and burning, “if—if I scared you.”

He uses his discarded robe to clean you up, unthinking of the consequences as he leaned back to stand, fully nude as he extends his hand in wait, beckoning you closer.

“Scared me?” You challenge, curling your hand into his own as he pulls you up, legs bracketing his thighs as your hands come to rest against his abdomen, staring up at the emperor.

“Your bark is quite frightful,” He admits, “I can only imagine how you would rip me apart had I gone too far,” His words trail, a softening to his voice as he curls his hand around the side of your face, a gentle gesture.

“Would you like that, Geta?” You ask with a creeping suspicion, a smirk spreading across your face, “For me to rip you apart?”

A man of such power, unrestrained and chaotic—shrinks.

Almost too shy to admit it.

“Careful, my lady,” He warns, “I am still a ruler of Rome, such disrespect is—”

“Punishable by death,” You confirm, “but, you promised me safety, yes?”

Geta nods silently, watching the slow crawl of your fingers up his chest before they grab his chin, your thumb smoothing over the dimpled skin, his lips pulling apart in a shaky exhale.

“And I am sure a good boy like you will keep that promise?”

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brailsthesmolgurl · 9 months ago

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"Pretty thing, isn't she?"

Preview: LnDs boys reacting to other guys hitting on you.

SYLUS

You stood in front of the heavy wooden doors covered in gilt, a gateway exuberating luxury and inviting only the top 1% of the N109's population, which of course, includes Sylus. You had yet to be used to attending such fancy events but Sylus had managed to convince you by being apart of such events, you would be able to establish your name within the N109 zone quicker and that people would learn not to mess with you as much anymore. Perhaps you were not having a clear mind during then but here you stood now, in the middle of a huge banquet hall, in a maroon red dress that makes you feel naked due to how cocooned you feel within the fit.

"Breathe, then maybe you may not feel so nervous." Sylus slipped an arm around you and started to lead you into the highly ornated hall. You could tell that nobody here belonged to the 'average' class as their manners, demeanours and even body languages rotated around the word demure. Escorted to a standing bar table, your partner leaned down just enough for his lips to hover over the side of your ear and you could feel his hot breath tickled against your lobes. "Stay here, I will get us some drinks." And off he went, his tall figure blending into the crowds of dancing participants.

Sylus strutted over towards the bar and casually leaned against it. One good thing about events as such is other than the free flow of alcohol, waiters are built to be more attentive and aware of their surroundings as they do hold a split image of the host of the event. "One whiskey and a glass of lemon soda." The waiter nodded and immediately started to get to work. Sylus then turned around, his eyes scanning the crowds of people and landing on you, the lady in red still standing at the table alone, awaiting for him.

"Eyeing the bird I see?" A voice chimed out of the blue, laced with a thick British accent that any lady would have been charmed over. Sylus's crimson eyes glanced over and caught sight of a man in a tailored suit, brunette hair slicked back and eyes the shade of ocean. "I wonder if she would be pleased to have company for the night." The hint of tease in his voice got the lover of yours quirking an eyebrow, expressing amusement at the man's confidence.

"You can give it a shot." He snarked, one side of his lips tilted upwards to form a smirk. "She does not seem to be the type to let in so easily." The clink of glass onto the table top got Sylus to turn over, grabbing his glass smoothly and tasting the whiskey. "How does a bet sound?"

"Whoever gets her by the end of the night shall be crowned winner then?" The young man downed his vodka shot in one go and he stood straight, adjusting his outfit and shooting his head back to Sylus, who is still smirking in his direction. "It's on, then."

Watching the man walking over to you, each step radiating manly confidence nearly got Sylus laughing, if only the man knew how hard it was for Sylus to get you to just stay with him. "She may be pretty, but she ain't stupid that's for sure." Picking up her glass of lemon soda, he too, started walking towards the table. Seeing you talking to the British man, slightly chuckling got Sylus feeling an ick at the back of his throat and it did not taste good. He made his presence known by loudly clinking the glass of lemon soda onto the table.

You gulped when you saw Sylus had returned, and accepted the glass of lemon soda he had gotten for you. You boyfriend turned over to the British lad and smiled a bit too politely for his usual manners before he spoke. "The moment you had picked her to be your target, is the moment I already knew I won the bet." His eyes gleamed murder under the shine of the crystal chandeliers. "If I were you, I would scamper off immediately before I hunt you down."

XAVIER

It has been a while since you had been on a hotpot date with your lover. Ever since Captain Jenna had assigned him on a mission, it has been hard to match up both of your timings to plan for a date. Hence, once you received the text from your boyfriend stating that his mission had finally met the end of it's trail, you could not hide your excitement and went ahead to book for a hotpot store that had recently opened up just a few streets down. Your sole motivation of booking the store was hearing Tara's praises over the services offered there. She claimed that anyone who goes in would surely come out feeling refreshed and that was what got you sold on making a reservation.

Perhaps, just maybe, the way Tara had phrased that got you picturing a whole different scenario; where an otherworldly hotpot experience was what you were anticipating, with fastidious services and amazing food and offers you a new kind of service. Yet, here you sat, in the middle of a table with tons of half naked men walking around you, serving hotpot dishes. So this was Tara's definition of feeling refreshed. Palming yourself on the forehead, you were figuring why did you bother asking for a hotpot recommendation from one of your girl friends who happens to be single.

"May I help you with something?" A young man, wrapped in biker shorts and an apron approached you and you gulped, eyes immediately avoiding whatever skin he has to show. Seeing your reaction, a chuckled rolled out of his lips and he took a seat beside you, unaware that you already have a boyfriend as Xavier would be slightly late due to an unexpected traffic jam. "Would you like me to give you a massage to ease your tension hmm?"

You gave an awkward chuckle, hands waving back and forth while rejecting his oncoming offer. "I have a boyfriend and I am not interested. I would like to get a menu please." Just by talking to the guy, it left a bitter taste in your mouth, it felt like you were cheating on Xavier although you were barely doing anything. The weight on the couch shifted and you heard a soft thud, seeing the shadow beside you disappearing out of the corner of your eye.

The waiter that had initially served you headed back towards the counter, his other colleagues wriggling their eyebrows at him. "How's it going with that chick, Ken? You manage to ask for her wechat yet?" One of the guys asked, his pearly whites flashing. But Ken shrugged and muttered something about her having a boyfriend. "Well adding her on wechat is not exactly a crime. No harm in storing a cute girl's number in your phone anyways."

A figure walked past them, stopped mid way and approached them. This figure was leaner, taller, and looked more elegant than the other men adorning aprons and biker shorts within the restaurant. "Which girl?" His voice chimed in and Ken responded without much thought, thinking it was one of his colleagues asking for the target. He pointed exactly at you and the stranger's cerulean blue orbs caught yours and his lips pulled into a warm smile. Seeing you being so uneasy within a crowd of half-naked men amuses him. "Easy. If I get her number, does this mean I get to keep her?"

Ken then noticed the source of the voice, a man dressed up in a wool hoodie, with sandy blond hair and dreamy blue eyes and an innocent smile. He holds very effiminate features for a man. Given that the store was not opened for that long, Ken thought he may be one of the newcomers coming for an interview. "Sure buddy, if you get it, I guess you can keep it. But she does have a boyfriend, she said it herself." Xavier chuckled and casually shrugged his shoulders and sauntered over to you. The men stood by the counter and watched intently.

Watching Xavier talking to you and getting you to smile got the men to exchange glances at one another. Maybe they are missing something, or maybe it did hurt their small ego a little. But the moment Xavier got you by the hand and started to lead you out of the restaurant, the men were shocked, eyes widened and jaws slacked at how Xavier could easily get you to comply. Walking past Ken, Xavier stopped to say. "Next time, if you want to lay a bet, don't be such an airhead and at least lay it with someone who does not have a boyfriend already."

RAFAYEL

Getting stuck in a foreign city with little to no guidance is not that rare of an occurrence as Rafayel does enjoy being 'lost' with you. "That is how you can truly get to enjoy a city." Is what he would usually use to comfort you. However, that sentence of his may only work if the both of you are not entirely soaked under the heavy rain. Shivering, hungry and worn out. "Shall we head in there for some shelter?" Rafayel suggested, slender index finger pointed towards the building ahead of the both of you.

With a slight nod, he led you towards the building. It turned out to be a bustling bar within the small town. Locals filled to the brim, chattering in their own mothertongue while enjoying each other's company. "Stay here, I will get us some drinks." Rafayel informed you and headed off after pressing a small kiss onto your left cheek. The both of your arrival certainly did alerted a couple of the locals. Seeing a drenched couple within a bar is a good sign for them to know that you guys are far from home.

Perched against a standing bar table, you studied the crowd that were occupying the dance floor. The crowd are drenched in the bask of neon glow emitted by the LED lights that hung high above the ceilings. Some of them had drinks in their hand as they swayed to the beat while some others were clearly in their own world, striking dance moves that are attracting a spectacle. "Hey!" A voice called out to you and you turned your head, landing your sight on a tall male figure, with hair that are akin to the sunset and with milky pale skin. Upon approaching you, you caught sight of his emerald eyes that sparkled like eccentric jewels under the dim lights. "You dropped this?!"

Looking down at his palm, he held out your phone to you. The music is probably too loud for you to even notice that your phone had fell out of your pocket and landed onto the floor with a thud. "Yeah!" You responded with the volume that hopefully reaches his ears. The ginger haired man smiled and stood next to you and he started striking a conversation with you, asking if you were alone and if you happen to be a local as well. "Oh, I am from Linkon City and I am not here alone!" You smiled awkwardly but also responded out of a polite manner.

A hand that landed at your back made you jumped slightly and you retreated from the guy's vicinity when you realised he was trying to get close to you. "What's wrong?" Feigning shock, he only closed in on you, a smirk creeping its way onto his face. He looked nothing different than a wolf that is ready to pounce whenever he finds the chance to. "Whatever happens in here, stays in here." His statement got your voice stuck in your throat, your chest tightening when you realised that you are about to get jumped by a 'kind' stranger.

"You have to try so hard to get her to pay attention to you?" A mocking voice came from behind you and your heart sighed in relief when Rafayel towered behind you, two glasses in hand and a genuine amused smile stamped onto his features. "I didn't even have to try to get her to come on this trip with me." Rafayel casually handed you your drink and he took up the space in front of you, his height on par with the guy whom had tried to hit on you. Rafayel's eyes gleamed a shade of striking electric blue when he leaned in towards the guy, his demeanour taking a turn towards being protective and establishinig dominance.

This side of Rafayel got your heart lurching for a moment. Seeing such a nonchalant and charming individual taking a turn towards being protective over you got the butterflies in your stomach blindly colliding with the walls of your insides. "Touch her one more time, I dare you." Snapping his finger, the flames of his evol came alive and the guy muttered curses, stepping aback. "I might not be able to guarantee you would be able to leave here in one piece."

ZAYNE

The cardiac surgeon's off day is spent on paying you a surprise visit during your demonstration day. This day in specific is held annually at the Linkon City Hall, where the public are informed about the roles of a deepspace hunter and it is also a day for the organisation to recruit potential new hunters for their task forces. He remembered that day as you stood in front of him, with a brochure shoved into his arms before you sprinted off like a whimpering fox. The piece of paper featured your face on it, posing with your guns, with a huge title pasted above your head that is promoting 'Hunter's Showdown Performance'. Zayne could not help his lips from tugging into a small smile as he stared blankly at your wannabe serious face on the piece of paper.

You stood at the back of the stage, isolating yourself from the rest of the crew as you quietly rehearsed your steps. You were only given a month to prepare for this demonstration and knowing that you are not able to strike to wanderer actors makes it all the more tedious for you to rehearse your steps. Every movement, every swing of the guns and every shot has to be precise and realistic, minus the actual damage to be taken by the other actors. Executing a full 360 turn, you came to a halt when your name was hollered out by someone in the background. "Y/n!" You turned your head and your partner came up to you, his smile wide. "Hey, you rehearsing for your part?"

Upon nodding your head, he proceeded to ask if it would be alright for him to rehearse his part with you. On usual notes, hunters are usually dispatched in pairs and since Tara is not around, hence Captain Jenna decided to pair you up with Christopher. The rehearse took around 15 minutes till he paused, patting you on your shoulder encouragingly. "You got anyone coming over to watch you?" You opened your mouth to speak but a voice chimed in before you could even say anything else.

"Yes." Zayne stood behind you, his features darkened at the sight of the hand of a stranger's on your shoulder. Christopher coughed slightly and retreated his touch, feeling guilty instantly. You were of course, shocked, that Zayne had managed to make time to come and see this silly demonstration of yours. When you gave him the brochure, you were certainly not expecting him to appear in person. You figured he might just watch it via the online link from his office if he happened to not any surgeries scheduled for the day. You were totally wronged.

"You...uhm...never told me you had a boyfriend." Christopher chuckled awkwardly, his hand lightly tapping and rubbing the back of his neck to somewhat soothe himself from the tense stare he was getting from a pair of unfamiliar emerald orbs.

Zayne took this chance to stand beside you and he extended a hand towards the guy, expression still indifferent. "I am Zayne, y/n's boyfriend, it is nice to meet you." Christopher did shook his hand out of respect but did not took long to stay, muttering that he has to get his makeup done and off he went. You could somehow feel dark clouds crowding in above your head, a storm lingering in the back of Zayne's gaze. "Was that the guy that you were supposed to perform with?" His voice was gentle, but he awaits for your answer.

"Yeah...Tara could not make it during this event, hence Captain Jenna got him to pair up with me for the demonstration." Your voice was slightly quivering, thinking that Zayne might be upset with you not openly telling your colleagues that you are already in a relationship. But you came from his standpoint, as Zayne is someone who cares about his privacy, you figured he might not appreciate you going on yapping about you being in a relationship and would much rather keep it low-key and only between the two of you. "I'm sorry I never mentioned about you to any of my colleagues as I thought you would like to keep our relationship private and confidential."

Zayne's eyes caught yours and he smiled warmly, his hand coming up to tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear and he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss onto your forehead. You froze, knowing that at this point you would be receiving tons of stares from your surrounding colleagues. "Y/n, as much as I would like to keep our relationship private, I would not like it if someone were to try to take advantage on you just because they think they could." His palm smoothed the baby hairs atop of your head, his smile still evident as he continued speaking softly to you. "If you find it hard to tell your colleagues about us because of me, I will just let my actions show them what we are."

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #zayne love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace #lnds #xavier love and deepspace #rafayel x reader #zayne x reader #xavier x reader #sylus x reader #love and deepspace sylus #lnds sylus

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the-secret-keeper · 4 months ago

Text

Where MC Reunites With Grim and Their Friends While The Obey Me Brothers Go Feral

People were wanting this from the part one of this request by @sweetlicorice

Where MC Tells the Obey Me Boys About How Horribly They Were Treated In Twisted Wonderland: (Part 1: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Asmodeus, Satan, Beelzebub, and Belphegor) And (Part 2: Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon, Solomon, and Luke)

Specifically requested by @chaosisbliss

TW: Talk of Angry Demons (don't worry, they aren't mad at you), Reuniting with a pet, Reuniting with friends, Crying, Fear of an authority figure, Talk of being overworked, Talk of being burnt out, Talk of abuse of power, Talk of gaining weight (in Levi's, but it's very brief)

Reader is referred to as MC by the characters, and MC is gender neutral, but this is in second person point of view, so for the most part, you will be referred to as 'You' by the narrator.

Characters included are: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Asmodeus, Satan, Beelzebub, and Belphegor

Could be read as romantic or platonic

I will do a part two of this for the Dateables + Luke

This will be long so story under the cut

This will be organized by character with some context beforehand.

Enjoy!!

It took a bit of time, but a determined sorcerer, a determined angel, and several infuriated demons can do pretty much anything they set their minds to. Solomon broke through dimensional travel quite easily upon realizing you'd been summoned from another world, despite originally being from the human realm in this world. It was narrowing down which dimension that was the issue.

But knowing that you were missing your friends and your cat, and the idea that they could possibly reunited with them made them work even harder. Not to mention pressure from both Lucifer and Diavolo, who wanted to 'exchange words' with your previous headmaster and his teaching tactics. They wanted to see the people you speak so highly of. And Satan and Solomon want to meet your cat.

They were trying their hardest to lessen your homesickness while they worked on finding a way there. And it worked. Until the portal opened, and you were the first to volunteer to go through. You couldn't wait! You were going to see your friends again, you were going to see Grim again! So you took your boys, and you went through the portal.

Lucifer:

"Grim!" You yelled, upon seeing the cat, being carried by your friends as they walked around campus.

They all turned upon hearing your voice, but Grim was the fastest to react. He flew over faster than anyone else could say 'MC' and threw his paws around your neck, hugging you as tight as he could. He wanted to make sure you weren't a hallucination. You hugged back, not as tight, for fear of hurting him, but still tight. He was crying, you were crying. Your friends rushed over not long after, gently dragging the pair of you away from Lucifer, who had been standing beside you.

They quickly piled onto the hug, until no one was really sure who was hugging who, but you were in the center, surrounded by warmth and love. Everyone was crying, at least a little bit, but they would never admit it in a million years. Lucifer looked on fondly, reminded that you had friends, a found family, outside of him and his brothers, as well as the others.

"Where is the headmaster's office?" He asked after everyone separated, but before they could ask you questions.

"Oh right, you wanted to talk to Crowley." You sniffled, wiping away the tears, and letting Grim crawl up to lay across your shoulders. "I can show you. You guys want to come with? We can catch up and you can get to know my new housewarden." You winked at Lucifer, who simply rolled his eyes in a manner more befitting of someone who was amused, than annoyed.

"We're never leaving your side again." Deuce deadpanned, looking you in the eyes. "You gave us all heart attacks when you just disappeared like that!"

"Yeah! We thought our housewardens were going to overblot, again!" Epel agreed.

"Sorry about that." You smiled, laughing awkwardly. "I didn't really have control over that, though."

"It's true. MC was summoned by Lord Diavolo, they had no say in the matter."

"I don't mind though." You beamed at Lucifer. "I live with Lucifer, and his brothers."

"Perhaps you can regale them with your tales of adventure while you show me to the headmasters office." Lucifer agreed, gesturing for you to lead the way. You nodded, and began to do so.

You told your friends of your adventures in the Devildom. About the Crown Prince, and his wonderful butler. About the insanely powerful wizard. You spoke rather highly of the seven demons you're staying with. You did conveniently "forget" to mention that one of them killed you, and more of them tried, but you're all cool now.

You talked extensively about how well you were treated, to make sure your friends knew that while you missed them, you were safe. And you were happy. You felt bad for making them worry, so you figured you should put their minds at ease about the time you spent away.

They didn't say it, but your friends took note of how people in the hallways practically dove out of the way as you and Lucifer walked through the halls. They knew Lucifer was powerful, hell, Deuce bet he could feel his magical ability from a mile away, maybe more. But they originally thought this would be similar to Malleus, and how people respected and got out of his way.

But oddly enough, they noticed that it wasn't necessarily intimidation, or respect, but outright fear that seemed to be driving these people away. As you smiled, and chattered on about how you couldn't wait to take Grim home and cuddle with him in a bed that isn't rotting, and have him meet your new roommates, and Lucifer walked mostly silently, his eyes forward, or on you, at all times, people were desperate to get out of the way. Epel swears he saw someone jump out of a window when they got close enough. And they didn't understand it. Malleus elicited a reaction similar, but this? This was on another level. And something about it made them doubt that Crowley would leave talking with Lucifer alive.

You spotted a familiar face, one that you really wanted Lucifer to meet. You figured that it would be best for him to meet one of the more competent members of staff before he met.... Crowley. You beamed, seeing Crewel.

"Professor Crewel!" You called out, breaking off from the group to rush up to him. "Lucifer come on!" You turned back before you reached him, gesturing for Lucifer to follow you. "I want you to meet Professor Crewel." He sighed, but agreed, walking forward, as you rushed to greet your old professor.

"Pup!" He called upon seeing you, briskly walking up to you, and grabbing your face, quickly inspecting for any bruises or signs of illness or anything else. "Are you ok? When I was informed you simply disappeared, I didn't know what happened. I was so worried!"

"I'm alright!" You promised. "I was brought back to my world, sort of. It's a little hard to explain." You laughed, deciding to leave out the part where you live in what is technically Hell. "I'm sorry to have worried you so much, I didn't really have any control over my leaving. But you can rest assured! I'm in good hands! See this is," You looked back to see Lucifer looking at something on one of the walls, "Lucifer! What's got your attention?"

"Nothing." He shook his head. "I just saw someone I thought I knew." He smiled fondly at the thought, walking over to you.

You didn't know it at the time, and you wouldn't for a long time. But the person he thought he saw was you, specifically you on a missing person poster. Your friends had plastered the school with them, along with the town nearby, and managed to even send some to Royal Sword Academy.

"Professor Crewel, this is Lucifer. He acts as the Housewarden for where I live now, but he does a lot more than just act as Housewarden. Lucifer, this is one of the more competent members of staff here at Night Raven, Professor Divus Crewel. He teaches potionology."

"So you're taking care of my pup?"

"MC is in my care, yes." Lucifer nodded. "Were you the one taking care of them while they were here?"

"Unfortunately not. Had I been allowed to act as their guardian, they would've been significantly better taken care of. However, I wasn't allowed to do much for them."

"Professor Crewel did all he could." You told Lucifer. "Professor Crewel," he looked to you, and you smiled, almost maliciously, a look he was curious to see on your face, "Lucifer is on his way to talk to Crowley. Do you happen to know if he's in his office?"

You and Crewel had a silent conversation, one where he realized your plan. You were going to let Lucifer tear Crowley a new one. Verbally is the intention, but no one would complain if it was physically as well. Especially not you, and definitely not Crewel.

His smile turned evil, matching your own in a way that people might swear make you look related. You both chuckled slightly, in an evil way before Crewel nodded, pleased with your unspoken plan. He cleared his throat in a belated attempt to cover his laughter. He looked between you and Lucifer.

"He is, in his office. He actually just got back." You groaned out of sympathy.

"Another vacation?"

"Yes." He nodded, sighing.

"Vacation? In the middle of the school year?" Lucifer questioned. Ace, with no sense of self-preservation, patted Lucifer on the shoulder casually.

"He does that a lot. And all his work used to get pinned on poor MC." You realized what he was doing, but didn't say anything.

"It's true, he used to give them all his work when he wanted to go on an impromptu vacation." Jack agreed.

"Crewel and Trein would take the work when they could, but they are full-time professors, after all." You sighed, shrugging. "Remember all those sleepless nights Grim?"

"Yeah." He yawned. "I'm tired just thinking about them."

"Well those are no more, Grim."

"That so?"

"Lucifer." You looked at him. "You get to keep Cerberus." You teased.

"Cerberus serves a purpose." He teased back, but in a tone that would make anyone that didn't know him think he was serious.

"I'll find a way to convince Satan to stop pranking you for a month if you let me bring Grim back."

"Deal." He agreed.

You both nodded, before following Crewel towards Crowley's office, your friends in tow. Walking the familiar path towards the office of the man who had been the source of so much anxiety for you for so long made you remember the bad times, and you instinctively leaned closer to Lucifer. He didn't move from his position, but also didn't tell you to lean away. There was a sense of pride within him, based on how safe you felt with him.

Once you reached his office door, Crewel looked back at you before knocking on the door. A voice sounded from within, telling Crewel to come in. Crowley. He opened the door, and you stood stone still, like a statue, seeing the inside of his office, knowing just how much stress had come from that place. Sebek was about to reach out, tell you that you didn't have to go in, when Lucifer gently nudged you forward. You steeled yourself, and entered the room.

Crowley stood from his previously extremely relaxed position upon seeing you. Beaming at you, like he had done no wrong. You stepped aside, not revealing Lucifer, as he was quite large, but drawing attention to him. You took a deep breath, before looking at Lucifer.

"Have at thee." You gestured at Crowley.

"Are you completely incompetent?" Lucifer started, and you smiled, gesturing for your friends to come in. Ace was recording it, to no one's shock, and telling you he would send it to you once they figured out inter-dimensional texting.

You all watched as Lucifer tore apart Crowley. From his teaching, to his work ethic, to his spending, to the state of his student body's mental health, not that you really thought he was able to speak on the matter. Eventually, and you never thought you'd see the day this happened, he simply stooped to insulting his appearance and intelligence.

Lucifer was pissed, and he was pissed on your behalf. He knew he was imposing, and scary, he knew if you really wanted to you could have the same effect. But he also knew you shouldn't have to. And that if he could do this for you, after all this man put you through, then it's the least he could do as a way to repay you for helping him and his brothers.

It was a satisfying experience. Though not nearly as satisfying as watching Lucifer straight up bitch-slap Crowley after he tried to insult you. You simply held Grim in front of you, stroking his fur in the same way a movie villain might. Taking pride in how much Lucifer cared about how badly you'd been treated, and rectifying this horrible experience, in his own way.

Mammon:

"I told ya didn't I?" Mammon boasted. "I told ya I'd getcha to your cat." He beamed.

You were positively vibrating with excitement. You were back in Twisted Wonderland, and you couldn't wait to see everyone again. You were excited to see your friends, sure, but you were overly excited to see Grim. You really wanted Mammon, and everyone else in the Devildom to meet him. But more than anything you want to be able to sleep again, with Grim right there beside you.

You could see it now, the arguing between Mammon and Grim about who was the favorite. Them calling you henchman and human. You really hoped they would get along, but you also know that bickering is their love language, so who knows how this will go?

"Trickster!" You turned at the familiar voice of the one, and only, Rook Hunt. "You have returned!"

"Rook!" You called, cheerfully. He swept you into an enormous hug, laughing as he did so.

"Oi!" You heard Mammon exclaim, so you separated from the eccentric archer.

"Rook, meet my friend Mammon. Mammon, this is Rook Hunt. He's an archer who goes to school here. Rook, I live with Mammon, now." You introduced, and they shook hands. Mammon was hesitant, But Rook was enthusiastic. "And we're actually on a mission, we're,"

"Looking for Monsieur Fuzzball?" Rook guessed, not looking away from Mammon, who he seemed to be studying.

"Yes!"

"I thought yer cats name was Grim?"

"It is. Rook gives everyone a nickname. Monsieur Fuzzball is just what he calls Grim." Mammon looked increasingly unnerved by Rooks staring, and the fact that he hadn't stopped shaking his hand yet.

"I believe you will find him in Headmaster Crowley's office." You grabbed Rooks hand, taking it off Mammons.

"Rook. Hunt. What in the whole of Twisted Wonderland, do you mean, Grim is in Headmaster Crowley's office?" You asked sternly.

"I simply mean that he's in there. I know not why, just that your friends, Monsieur Heart and Monsieur Spade were talking about it with Roi des Roses. They wanted to get him out, but Roi des Roses didn't let them." Rook explained in that ever-cheerful tone of his. You felt your eye twitch.

"Mammon," You turned, a strained smile painting your features, "I will tell you where Lucifer hid your three backup credit cards, and feed your raven familiars for two weeks, no complaints. If you help me get my cat out of Crowley's office."

"Do you not wish to see the others in your first year group?" Rook asked.

"I can catch up with them after, I don't trust Crowley with Grim." You snapped at Rook, before turning to Mammon. "If I direct you can you speed up the travel?"

"How am I s'posed to do that?"

"Dude, you can fly. And you love a dramatic entrance."

"You know which windows his though?"

"Course I do, I used to throw rocks at it when I was feeling particularly angry." You shrugged. "Come on, Mammon. Please!" You begged.

"Alright, alright. Just cuz you asked so nicely of the Great Mammon." He chuckled, smiling proudly.

"Mammon! Now!" You demanded, and he jumped, but nodded, and transformed into his demon form and picked you up.

He took off with ease, holding you like some sort of teddy bear. You guys have done this before, often enough for him to be confident in flying with you in his arms, but not often enough for you to be any less scared about this sensation. It wasn't exactly fun to be flying at high speeds with the only thing securing you being Mammons arms. Granted, he is insanely strong, so it's not that you think he'd drop you, it's just a scary feeling.

You can't exactly yell over the sound of the wind, it's very loud, and it gets hard to breathe when going at high speeds like this, so speaking is kind of inconvenient. Instead of talking to Mammon, to tell him where to go, you pointed. It's a rather effective system, you've found. You directed him through the large buildings on campus, and pointed at one specific window.

You'd seen the school from above before. Ace had always been rather fond of scaring you by doing this, Deuce hot on his trail. And Malleus was always very nice when it came to helping you experience the things the other first years get to do but you can't because of your lack of magic. Not to mention all those times Kalim kidnapped you on his magic carpet, much to Jamil's chagrin.

Mammon, without a moments hesitation, quickly moved one of his hands to cover your head, and rammed into the window of Crowley's office. He was careful in his landing, he always is, but he was extra careful with the glass being on the ground. You spotted Grim, sitting in a corner. You rushed over to hug him, as Mammon looked around the office. He narrowed his eyes, noting the distinct lack of anyone but Grim.

"Where's Crowley?" You asked Grim, voicing Mammon's question.

"He brought me in here and he left. He locked the door behind him. He was wearing his vacation shirt." Grim told you, hugging you back as tight as he could.

"He locked you in here?!" You asked, outraged. Grim nodded. "Dire Crowley, you will pay." You muttered, feeling Satan's influence overcome you. But you took some deep breaths and stood up, turning to Mammon. "Mammon, this is Grim. Grim, this is Mammon. If you want to come with us, we'll both be living with him, and his brothers."

"I'm never leaving you again."

"The feeling is mutual." You smiled at your beloved cat. "So, we've made our dramatic entrance, shall we use the door this time?"

"It's locked." Grim reminded.

"Not for the Great Mammon." You teased. "Right?"

"Right!" Mammon agreed, before ramming into the door. You blinked, looking at the shards of wood on the floor, looking through the hole he made at his proud smiling face.

"I meant, pick the lock." You laughed lightly.

"Oh. I knew that. Obviously. I just thought, I mean, obviously, this was just, quicker."

"Is he dumb?"

"You have no room to talk, Grim." You reminded, reaching through the hole and unlocked the door, pushing it open.

After stepping over the shards of wood, Grim migrated to be laying across your shoulders, and you linked arms with Mammon. You laughed at his request to avoid the strange man from earlier. You didn't say it to him, but you knew that if Rook really wanted to, there would be no stopping him from finding you. After all, he managed to follow Vil all the way to that island just to give him his skincare.

Instead, you figured you should head to find your friends and explain where the hell, pun intended, you've been. You hummed, trying to think about where they were, and how to get all of them together. Ace and Deuce should come first, they'll likely be together, and you know where they probably are. They can then text the others.

Though, the more you thought of it, the more you slightly dreaded the thought. You missed your friends, and you really wanted to see them! But you also knew they attracted trouble like no one else can, and Mammon would only intensify that. So as you silently debated the consequences of this course of action, you made your way to Heartslabyul.

"We have to sneak." You whispered, pulling Mammon behind a bush.

"Why?" Mammon whispered back.

"I don't remember all the rules of Heartslabyul, there's 810. I don't remember if there are any rules about visitors, whether that be times visitors can be here, how many, unannounced, I don't know. Riddle's great, but I don't want to get collared. Though," You looked at Mammon, "I am slightly curious about how his collar would affect you."

"Collar?"

"Yeah, it's his signature spell, it's called 'Off with your head'. It creates a collar around your neck, a rather obvious one," You pointed at a student walking away from the main building, dejected, with a collar around his neck, "that's one. They all look like that. And it seals your magic. But you're technically a magical being of demonic origin."

You shrugged as you looked around to see if you could spot Cater or Trey, or one of the others to bring you in without Riddle knowing. You wanted to see him, but you would like to confirm you wouldn't be breaking any rules first. You didn't, but you'd snuck into Heartslabyul enough to know how to sneak in without Riddle knowing. You gestured for Mammon to follow you, and he did, as you expertly weaved through the rosebushes, pausing every now and then as you saw students that might rat you out to Riddle. You made it into the building, Grim still laying across your shoulders, with Mammon in tow.

"Is this how yer so good at sneaking around the House of Lamentation ?" Mammon hissed as you headed to the kitchen.

"Yes, and also no. It's partly to blame, but not the entire reason." You hissed back.

"You both should shut up!" Grim hissed to both of us. You both looked at Grim before you sighed, nodded, and continued going to the kitchen.

Heartslabyul is a maze on a day that you're welcome, but as you dodged and weaved, avoiding all possible students, it felt like a labyrinth, and you were outrunning Riddle the Minotaur. Of course, this wasn't true. And you knew in the back of your mind that Riddle would likely welcome you, you didn't want to risk it.

You had debated bringing Mammon somewhere else and just asking another person to text your friends, but you knew that Mammon would cause trouble wherever, you'd rather have Trey on-hand than put that responsibility on anyone else. And also you wanted to talk to your friends in person before anyone got the chance to tell them you were back.

"Apparently, someone crashed into Crowley's office, stole Grim and left."

"And it wasn't the two of you?" Trey asked Deuce, who had been talking. You stopped Mammon from walking as you eavesdropped on the conversation in the kitchen.

"Do you see Grim? If we took him he'd be here." Ace reasoned, and you could practically see him rolling his eyes.

"Do you think it has something to do with that flying figure people were talking about earlier?"

"Riddle told you both to stop spreading rumors." Trey gently scolded.

"It's not a rumor! People saw it, there's photos." Deuce defended.

"It's probably just another student on a broom, that accidentally crashed into Headmaster Crowley's office window." Trey tried.

"Broom?" Mammon asked.

"It's a magical conduit, they use it to fly." You explained quietly.

Deciding it would be best to just get this over with, you sighed, and moved to stand in front of the kitchen door. You knocked lightly on the door, getting a quick response from Trey. Pushing the door open, you smiled at the familiar sight, noting how none of them were looking at you, or at Mammon. Trey was the first to notice, nearly dropping the bowl that was in his hands at the sight of you.

Seeing his reaction, both Ace and Deuce turned to the door, their jaws practically hitting the floor. They rushed over, nearly tackling you in the process, hitting each other, trying to hold you longer than the other. Trey just watched fondly as they fought, you in the middle, and all the nostalgia of having seen this interaction happen many times before.

It's likely that none of you would've separated on your own accord, had Mammon not yelped, jumping out from behind the wall, and drawing attention to himself. But, it wasn't him making a loud noise that caught your eye, but the new shiny collar around his neck, which made you laugh. You turned, smiling at Riddle, who had seen the unfamiliar man from afar.

"Yeah," you smiled, nodding to yourself as you looked around, not having seen all your friends yet, but happy nonetheless, "it's good to be back."

Leviathan:

It figures that you'd find Grim in Ignihyde. Idia always did like cats, and though you loved your friend group, you had secretly hoped that he would end up in Ignihyde. Not only because then he would surely be fed, he'd have Ortho, and Idia. And while he may have known more people in, say, Heartslabyul, the dorm Idia led tended to be much more to Grim's liking. This was likely because he's fed not only breakfast, but also second breakfast, lunch, supper, dinner, and snacks between all those, as well as fed at all the Heartslabyul events he's surely invited to. It's also dark, and quiet, which means he gets to sleep all he likes.

You were glad your companion was in a place that really would take good care of him, you trusted Idia with that, Ortho too. Speaking of Ortho, it was actually the technomatic humanoid that found you and Leviathan, almost immediately. You had the sneaking suspicion that Idia was watching the cameras again, and told him to go get you. But you also had no proof, and certainly weren't going to accuse the Ignihyde dormhead of doing that without it.

Ortho had given you a tight squeeze, and was chattering the whole way to Ignihyde as Levi trailed behind you. Once actually in Ignihyde, he clung to your arm, so as not to lose you as he marveled at all the technology in the labyrinth-like dorm. He was quiet as Ortho talked about all that you had missed, and where Grim was. Apparently, he was in Idia's room right now, but once Grim and you reunite, Ortho promised to message your other friends, the other first years. He didn't even question the man attached to your arm, though, to be fair, you acted like this was normal, so he likely didn't want to accidentally offend your new companion.

Upon reaching Idia's dorm door, Ortho knocked, still cheery as ever, and Idia didn't respond. Ah yes, the usual behavior, you thought, knowing he wouldn't want to interact with Leviathan unless he had to. However, when Idia didn't answer, and likely recognizing the knock, Grim did. The door was opened for you, and in you went, immediately, your eyes darted to your feline-like friend, laying on his own regal, and very expensive-looking, cat bed.

Without hesitating, you pulled out of Levi's grip, and dashed towards Grim in excitement, smooshing him into a tight, yet not painful for him, hug.

"Oi! What have I said about," He started to scold, but stopped upon his quick realization that it was you holding him, and not some random Ignihyde student with enough audacity to rival Crowley in Grim's mind. "MC." He said, fondness and excitement seeping into his tone as he hugged you back as tight as his little arms would allow.

"Have you gained weight?" You asked, to which he pushed you back, looking offended. "Not in a bad way, dummy, in like, I can't feel your ribs when I hug you anymore kind of way. In a good way." You reassured. "Hi Idia!" You called, looking at your flaming-haired friend in his gaming chair.

"Hey, MC." He greeted somewhat fondly.

"Is this the otaku friend you have that you told me about?" Levi asked. You nodded.

"Idia is one of the best gamers of both video and board variety in Night Raven College. He also has extensive anime and manga knowledge, as well as other things. His collections of merchandise, manga, video games, and anime is equally as impressive as yours are. He doesn't have a giant aquarium in his room, but his stuffs all state of the art." You explained in Idia's place.

This is something they're both passionate about, but Idia is far more introverted than Leviathan, who is very loud and proud of his interests. You do think that they might get along, of course, there's no guarantee. They're both highly competitive, and to be honest, you don't really want them to play competitive video games against each other, because you fear the consequences.

"As much as I would love for you two to be able to play video games and discuss anime and manga, I also know that Ortho texted the first years the moment I hugged Grim, and Idia does not want them in his room. You'll just have to talk later." You smiled, gently grabbing Levi, Grim still hugged to your chest. "Come on, Levi, I think you understand not wanting a bunch of rowdy freshman in your room, right?" He nodded.

"We need to play video games together later though." Levi was looking at you, but you knew he was talking about Idia.

"Maybe Lilia will let you use his PC to play against Idia until we figure out inter-dimensional communication." You offered, tugging lightly on Levi's sleeve. "Come on, Levi. Bye Idia!"

You smiled at him and he waved as you left, and you could tell he was grateful you were making Levi leave with you. And while he would never voice it, you could also tell he was a little annoyed that you had brought Levi into his dorm at all.

You let Ortho guide you back out, not being nearly familiar enough with the layout after so much time to make it out without getting lost first, and this time Levi was asking Ortho all kinds of questions. Not only about the technology in Ignihyde, but also about the kinds of video games and video game consoles this world has. You had warned Levi beforehand, when talking about Idia and Ortho, to not talk about Ortho being a technomatic humanoid, or an android that looks like a human. No matter how much he wants to.

Once out, you were greeted by the group of first years you consider family. Leviathan, upon seeing Jack and Sebek were taller than him, but the rest were noticeably shorter, almost asked what they were feeding the sixteen year olds in this world, and why did it make those two so tall. That being said, Leviathan couldn't help but be slightly envious when you dashed away from him towards the group, giving each of them a tight hug, Grim standing nearby as he watched you reunite with your friends, but you picked him up quickly after.

After making sure everyone was thoroughly greeted, you beckoned Leviathan closer, a smile on your face as you introduced him as your Lord of Shadows, and your favorite roommate, which quelled his envy quite a bit. You smiled, seeing him, admittedly awkwardly, interact with your friends, Grim even begrudgingly letting him pet him. However, there was one thing that stuck out to you.

"What's this I hear about me letting someone use my PC?" You shrieked as Lilia popped up behind you, startling everyone, with the exception of Sebek, who was used to Lilia's antics by now.

"Lilia!" You scolded, before laughing.

Asmodeus:

You were glad you'd picked Asmodeus to go with you, when you arrived only to immediately be pulled right back into the antics of your friends. It was like you had never left. However, you didn't get to see Grim right away, oh no, no. You saw everyone but Epel and Grim because Crewel had decided Grim should stay in Pomefiore while he was away trying to petition Crowley get removed. They barely noticed Asmodeus' presence, not even really acknowledging his existence, which pissed him off but you quietly begged him to just let it go.

He did, which actually worked in your favor.

The antics you were pulled into were your friends attempting to pull a rescue mission for Epel and Grim, as Vil was overseeing them right now. This means that they're not only dodging Vil, they're dodging Rook, and also half of Pomefiore. You glanced at Asmo as Vil was mentioned, watching his jaw clench.

Ever since you told Asmo what Vil had done in preparation for the VDC/SDC he's been rather keen on meeting him, if only to rip into him for the damage he could've done to you mentally, and the damage he did do financially. You would stop him if he went too far, he knew you would, so he wasn't too worried about getting in trouble. And if he did, he would simply charm his way out.

You all approached Pomefiore with as much stealth as you could muster, for a bunch of sixteen year old boys, plus you, and Asmo, who was wearing heels. You stayed close to your friends, but kept a close eye on Asmodeus.

You were all crouched below the window to the room where Epel and Grim were, as well as Vil, and you think maybe Rook, but you didn't see him. Then again, you rarely do if he doesn't want you to, scarily enough. You watched for a few moments as Vil gave both Epel and Grim a rigorous etiquette lesson, and once he deemed necessary, a break was taken. Once a break was taken, the window was pulled open a little, as it opened outward, and the plan commenced.

"Psst." Ace hissed quietly, which caught Epel's attention.

Epel glanced over and saw Ace, and then you, and nearly gave you all away with the way he almost gasped. He instead, clamped his mouth shut, gently grabbed Grim, and as nonchalantly as he could muster, walked over to the window.

He held Grim out the window and dropped him, right into your awaiting arms, before he hopped out, and closed the window behind him. Vil had not noticed, mission accomplished. Epel gave you an extremely tight hug, with his farm-boy strength nobody realizes he has, and made a quiet promise to catch up with you once you were away from the dorm.

However, none of you took into account the fact that Rook was just not in the room, and that's why you didn't see him, not that he just didn't want to be seen. An arrow, aimed to shoot right by your face, was quickly caught by Asmodeus, shocking everyone, and infuriating him. You simply sighed.

"Rook, you shouldn't shoot arrows on school grounds. It's dangerous." You scolded lightly, knowing the jig was up. He stepped out of the woods bordering Pomefiore, a smile plastered on his face, as it usually was.

"Trickster!"

"Rook." You smiled.

"And your incredibly athletic friend." Rook acknowledged Asmodeus, which he smiled in satisfaction, finally being noticed. You were also very impressed with Asmodeus's display of strength and speed.

You often forget, as you and him mostly gossip and do skincare, makeup, and hair, that Asmodeus is powerful in his own right. Not just in his ability to charm. He's one of the Seven Deadly Sins, one of the leaders of hell. He's strong, it's just easy to forget because he doesn't display it in the same way his brothers do.

You made a mental note to give him some of the skincare Mammon had gifted you from doing a modeling shoot for the company, but you don't use.

"Trying to escape your lessons, Epel?" You looked up at the sharp tone of Vil.

"Hi Vil." You greeted.

"That's Vil?" Asmo asked.

"Be nice, please." You gently asked Asmo, knowing he likely wouldn't.

"Inside, all of you. And don't think this won't be reported to your Housewardens." Vil threatened, and you sighed, holding your friend in your arms, as the group trudged around the building, and through the hallways to get back to the room Vil was in.

You stood between Vil and Asmodeus, being a slight barrier, a little bit of a buffer, for the argument you knew was to soon follow. Asmodeus was opinionated, he's strong-willed, and though he loathes to admit it, he can be just as stubborn as his brothers. You knew that if Asmodeus had his mind set on arguing with Vil, about something you already told him that you forgave Vil for, he would be arguing with Vil before he left.

You hoped he'd start the argument soon. Vil can hold his own against people who were critical against him, he's had to for most of his life. But you also didn't want them to argue in public, that wouldn't be good for anyone. Vil, though patient with most, and often firm in his sentiments, could be provoked if they knew how to push him. And Asmodeus would know how to push him.

"Asmo, this is Vil Schoenheit. Vil, this is Asmodeus. He's one of my current roommates, and the one accompanying me today." You introduced. "Asmo," you looked to your friend, who simply smiled, "don't go too far." You sighed, knowing this was inevitable.

Epel shared confused glances with the other first years as Asmodeus's smile and cheerful facade fell, and his eyes turned to glare at Vil, who looked almost taken aback at the sudden hostility. Though you were standing between them, and Asmodeus would be careful with his words since you were there, you still dreaded this interaction.

Vil raised an eyebrow, looking Asmodeus up and down, Asmodeus doing the same to him, but in a way that was searching for imperfections, more than an overall impression. You almost wanted to go find someone who was more qualified to handle this. Crewel, or maybe Trein if pushed. But, Crewel wasn't here, and Trein was busy. You considered, for a few moments, seeing if you could summon Lucifer, or maybe a different brother, but you knew that wouldn't really stop this, just delay it, so you decided against it.

Glancing slightly behind you, movement catching your eye in your peripherals, you did a double take, fully turning around and walking to the window. You looked at Ace.

"I thought you said Crowley was off-campus."

"He is. Went off on a vacation yesterday morning." Ace rolled his eyes.

"Then what is he doing here? And why is he wearing that?!" You asked, utter disgust seeping into your tone, not only at the sight of your previous tormentor, but also at the sight of what he was wearing.

Dire Crowley, though his usual attire was alright, perhaps it could even be called stylish, but it was professional, and it stood out. You could recognize him quite quickly from his clothes, anyone could. This seems to have put everyone, yourself included, under the false impression that he has a good sense of style. Clearly, that's not right.

He was wearing his usual hat and mask, but everything else was straight out of the "don't" section of one of Asmo's, or even Mammon's, fashion magazines. He wore a bright red, cropped, floral, button-up shirt, the kind you'd see dads wear in cartoons or movies, but it showed off his stomach, and rivaled the color of a fire truck. His shorts, which were extremely bright yellow, looked to be swim trunks, with a corn pattern on it. Below that, white mid-calf height socks, and bright neon green flip flops. The flip-flops practically glowed, nevermind the fact that he was wearing socks with them.

Ace and Deuce rushed up, always ready to mock the headmaster, but what they said didn't invite a stream of insults, simply loud cackling from them both as they nearly toppled over at the sight. Ace, wiping tears from his eyes, claimed he couldn't breathe as he devolved into laughs. Deuce couldn't stop clutching his stomach. Normally one to always respect authority, Deuce had a grudge against the headmaster after everything he'd done to you, so he had no more qualms with laughing at him.

Their laughter caused you to have to stifle your own giggles, but that didn't work when Epel soon joined the duo on the floor, wheezing with laughter, and even Rook let out a snicker. Asmodeus, wanting to not only see Crowley, but also his fashion disaster you'd pointed out, walked to the window at the same pace as Vil, and they reached it at the same time, both nearly gagging in disgust. Asmo didn't because he knew if you heard him, you'd tell his brothers, and he'd never live it down. Vil didn't because it was unbecoming. But the urge was there.

Leaning against Asmo as your laughter calmed down, you smiled at him.

"Save the argument for another day?" You asked gently, and he sighed, but hugged you.

"Oh, alright. But only because you asked so nicely." He teased, making you laugh.

"You're SQUISHING ME." You quickly separated from Asmodeus when Grim yelled out.

"Right! Grim, meet Asmodeus." You held the cat out from under his arms so he could be face-to-face with Asmo. "Asmo, this is Grim. And this is also the rest of my First Year friend group." You gestured around the room at the first years. "Jack and Sebek are the most well behaved." You added quietly, and he nodded.

"He looks like a stoplight!" Ace snorted, causing the other two, who had started to calm down, to descend into mad laughter once more, and the other two even started to chuckle a bit themselves.

"I think my brothers will fit right in here. The others will too." Asmo giggled. You smiled fondly at the thought.

Satan:

It was a pleasant surprise when you heard from some passing Diasomnia students, complaining about the favoritism, that Grim was taken in by Diasomnia. You smiled, realizing that your good friend Hornton had been kind enough to take care of your beloved companion. Sneaking through the halls with Satan was actually relatively easy. While some people did double takes upon seeing your familiar face, no one tried to stop you as you wandered through the halls and towards the Hall of Mirrors.

Upon getting there, beaming, you led Satan through the mirror, much to his apprehension, upon having never seen this means of transportation before. Once through, you beamed, looking up at the castle that was the Diasomnia dorm. You took note of the overcast weather, and the thunder rumbling in the distance, but didn't mention the cause to Satan, who looked at the castle with curiosity.

You talked with Satan, beaming about how excited you were to see Grim, and for them to meet. You also began to tell him about Diasomnia, as you walked up the winding road to the gate. You entered the building with little difficulty, no one questioning your presence, as they were enveloped in their own world. You hummed, trying to figure out where your cat would be in this large dormitory.

"Cakes!" You jumped as you heard someone running towards you, yelling. Satan gently touched your shoulder, ready to defend you at a moments notice, but you recognized the voice. "Cakes! Lilia's making cakes!"

"Oh no." You muttered, a cold chill going down your spine at the warning. Stopping once he reached the room, Sebek didn't look at you, simply yelling out the warning once more.

"Lilia's making cakes!" You laughed lightly, though it was nervous and forced. "MC!" Sebek yelled at a much louder volume, in a much happier tone. Never one for affection, he didn't hug you, but he did beam, and start to pull out his phone.

"Where's Grim? I heard he was here." You quickly asked.

"I believe he is with the Young Master, trying to study."

"Trying... to study? Grim?!" You asked, shocked at the claim.

"I know, I was shocked as well. But he's been very diligent in his studies since you went missing." Sebek told you. "I must text the others."

"Text Lilia too." You added. "Satan here, my escort, my roommate, the person with me today, he's super smart, and I'm sure he would love to learn everything there is to learn from Lilia." You explained.

"While that is true, don't throw me under the bus." Satan asked, sighing.

"You don't understand, Satan." You blinked, grabbing his sweater. "Lilia is just as bad at cooking as Solomon. If Lilia is in the kitchen, we are all in danger."

"I would love to learn everything from this, Lilia person." He quickly rectified.

"See? Ready and willing to learn!" You turned back to Sebek, who was already frantically typing on his phone. Moments later, a familiar voice rang out.

"So you want to learn, do you?" You flinched as Lilia popped up beside you, looking to Satan. Quickly giving you a tight hug, Lilia then turned his full attention to Satan. "Why?"

"Satan's a genius, and he's read basically every book on magic in all of existence where he's from. Who better to learn from than you?" You quickly intercepted, before the demon could tell the fae, that he's a demon.

"Fair enough." Lilia nodded, before turning. "I assume you want to see Grim, MC, so we'll take you there first, yes?" Sebek nodded, still typing on his phone, likely trying to tell Silver to clear out the kitchen and quick.

The small group that had formed, you, Satan, Lilia, and Sebek, walked through the halls of Diasomnia. Satan, ready to keep this man distracted from going back to the kitchen, had started asking Lilia questions. He remembered you mentioning that Lilia was very old, from a conversation a while back, but you didn't say how old, so he asked about history. Luckily, Lilia is that old, and history happens to be his best subject.

As Lilia told Satan of the past, you asked Sebek about what had happened since you left. Apparently, there's been a petition being passed not only around the student body, but around the staff, and the families of students as well, to get Crowley removed from his position as Headmaster. No one knows who started the petition, and no one knows where it is right now, but apparently, the last Sebek heard, it had over 2,000 signatures.

You reached the room in which Malleus and Grim were relatively quickly, and all of you remained silent, as you witnessed the interaction. Grim, struggling to answer the questions that Malleus asked, but Malleus, patient as ever, helped him find the answer, rather than just giving it to him. Based on the number of books around them, they had likely been at this for hours. You were the first to step forward, wrapping your arms around your cat, and lifting him up, giving him a hug.

He struggled for a second, but once he was able to turn around, and see you, he reciprocated the gesture, nearly crying in relief, but refusing to do so in public. Your sweet reunion was interrupted by the sound of a confetti popper popping. Everyone's attention was drawn to Lilia, who had a bright smile on his face. You laughed at his antics, before turning your attention to Malleus.

"Hello, Hornton." You smiled fondly, carefully hugging him and Grim at the same time. "It's good to see you again."

"Child of Man!"

He seemed to snap out of his shock, rising out of his seat, and pulling you into a tight hug. It took a moment, but Grim wormed his way out, gasping for air as he landed on the table, but, he wasn't free for long.

"So this is Grim." Satan asked, picking him up.

"The one and only." You confirmed, still being hugged by Malleus. "And this, tall, horned fellow, is my really good friend, Hornton, or, as he's formally known, Crown Prince Malleus of Briar Valley, or just Malleus." You explained, patting Malleus' back.

"Oh, yeah, that makes sense." Satan nodded, hugging Grim.

"I should also probably formally introduce everyone." You sighed, gently pushing Malleus off of you. "I'll get you some ice cream later, we can eat it together." You promised, still sticking close to the fae who had missed you dearly. "Satan, this is Sebek Zigvolt, knight of Malleus Draconia, and first year of Night Raven College. Silver is around here somewhere, I'm sure, he's another knight, and Lilia's son. Lilia is Malleus' caretaker, and also a royal guard. Everyone, this is Satan."

"What, no spectacular introduction for me?"

"Do you want one?" You asked, almost laughing at Satan's teasing tone. He hummed, shrugging. "Satan is one of my roommates where I live now, along with his six brothers. Satan and his brothers hold high-ranking positions in the government, and Satan himself is extremely knowledgeable on magic, with an extensive library, both physically and mentally." You smiled.

"Wonderful introduction, dear." Lilia clapped, making you laugh. "But with such an extensive library, it makes me wonder what Mc thinks you can learn from me." Lilia pondered aloud, winking at you.

"Well, Lilia, you're rather knowledgeable on many forms of magic and the history of magic in this world, a world Satan has never been to or read about before. Not to mention, you were there when most of it happened." You squinted, trying not to offend the fae. "To be fair though, Satan is much the same, in that regard." They both squinted at eachother.

"Vampire?" Satan asked, making Lilia snicker.

"Maybe." Lilia disappeared, only to reappear beside Satan, upside down. "Maybe not."

"Lilia is a fae." You quickly told Satan, trying not to cause any misunderstandings. "Satan is, an entity. Which is often considered evil. But he is not." You slowly explained, avoiding the word demon.

Demons get a bad rep, even in Twisted Wonderland, which makes you tread lightly. Not that it isn't deserved in a lot of cases, but you also knew that Satan didn't do those things, at least not here. Lilia has never spoke on the subject, so you don't know his opinions, hence why you are being careful.

"Interesting." Lilia smiled, almost eerily.

"Say, Sebek, didn't you text the other first years?" You asked, trying to divert the conversation, as you walked around the table, and gently took Grim from Satan, wary of a possibly argument.

"Ooh! More guests! I shall have to cook a great feast."

"That's not necessary!" Everyone shouted in unison as Lilia finished his sentence, causing his eyes to widen in slight shock, before everyone else started laughing at the sight.

Beelzebub:

"Grim!" You beamed, seeing the cat.

He looked up from his large plate of food, gulping down his bite before racing over, tripping multiple people in the process, which made you laugh. You opened your arms, kneeling down so he could jump into your arms. And the second he did, you closed your arms around him. Tears, happy tears, escaped your eyes, as you finally felt like your best friend was with you again.

No one approached you either, because they didn't want to interrupt such a lovely moment. That, and the massive red-head standing behind you protectively was scaring them off. However, it seemed like not everyone was affected by Beel's intimidating presence, not that the sunshine could really imagine the danger of the man he didn't know was a demon.

"Mc!" You looked up, laughing lightly as Kalim bounded over, quickly taking your hand and helping you up, squeezing you into a short hug, but quickly separating at Grims yowling at being squashed.

"It's good to see you too, Kalim. Oh, this is my roommate and escort for today, Beelzebub, but I just call him Beel." You explained, wiping your tears. "Beel, this is Kalim, and this..." You held Grim up, presenting him proudly. "Is Grim!"

"Hello." He greeted to both Kalim and Grim. "It's good to meet you both."

"Please! Help yourself, we're having a feast tonight!" Kalim invited.

"I don't know if Jamil will be able to keep up with Beel." You worried quietly, though no one seemed to hear as he ushered both of you to seats at the long table.

Never able to resist Jamil's delicious cooking, you did make yourself a plate, Grim bringing his own plate over to sit beside you. Beel, excited to taste the food that you had praised so much, dug right in with little apprehension. Once you finished your plate, you quickly separated from your friend you'd recently reunited with, to go greet Jamil. Grim followed you of his own volition, carrying his plate with him.

You entered the kitchen and stepped to the side, out of the way, as you watched Jamil work. He really did command the kitchen, it reminded you of Barbatos in a way. His efficiency, his calm demeanor, the way he's not afraid to direct people. The similarities were striking, at least in their efficiency. You made a mental note to introduce them. Jamil could use a friend who could relate to him.

You smiled as he turned, holding a soup pot, getting ready to put it in a serving dish when he saw you. His eyes widened, his jaw dropping, and the soup pot nearly going with it, but he regained his composure quickly, setting the soup pot aside. He rushed over, checking you over, making you laugh.

"Nice to see you too, Jamil."

"You can never disappear like that again. Kalim nearly lost his mind."

"I appreciate it." You nodded. "That being said, I came here to warn you, actually. The guest I'm here with, Kalim invited them to the feast,"

"Very Kalim-like. Why warn me?"

"Because he's essentially a bottomless pit, and I didn't want you to be surprised by the amount he can eat." You explained, slightly awkwardly.

"How much?"

"Can he eat? I'm not sure, to be honest. He's always eating. But he's also an athlete. I'd be surprised if you could feed him until he's full, I don't know that anyone's ever managed that."

"Let me put this into a serving dish, and then I'll come meet him."

"Alright. In the meantime, I'm gonna go ask Kalim to borrow his phone, I need to text the other first years before they realize I'm here and think I betrayed them by not immediately informing them." You told him, to which he waved you off, and watched you leave the kitchen.

You did exactly as you said you would, asking Kalim for his phone, which he happily gave and unlocked without a second thought, even without an explanation. You simply shook your head at his slight naivety, looking at Beel, who was eating at a reasonable pace, but an ungodly amount of food sat on his plate. You quickly sent a text to Ace, Deuce, and the others as well, telling them that it was you, you just had Kalim's phone, and you were in Scarabia.

The immediate response was to tell you that they were on their way. Which you said, meet you at Octavinelle instead, you have a bit of a plot. You gave them about fifteen minutes before they got there, if that long. You handed Kalim his phone back, watching as Jamil came out with the serving treys. You were always impressed with the amount he could cook.

Once he had set all the components down, he turned, looking for you, and walking over once he spotted you. You smiled at Beel who had looked up at you as this new person approached, glancing between the two of you, as if to see if he was going to do something.

"Beel, this is Jamil, the person who cooked all this food, and a good friend of mine. Jamil, this is Beelzebub," he raised an eyebrow at the name, seemingly the only person to notice, "and I call him Beel. He's one of my new roommates." He nodded.

"I've heard you eat a lot, Beel." He said cautiously. "How much?"

"I dunno." He shrugged. "Never feel full, so I'm always eating."

"Well don't fill up here. Jamil's food is top notch, no doubt about it, but, I have another place who's ingredient capacity I want you to test. And, I pulled a Mammon, so we don't have to worry about the price." You smiled at him, holding your cat to your chest still, as he contentedly purred.

"You talkin' 'bout Azul's place?" Grim asked sleepily.

"Yep." You beamed maliciously.

"What do you mean, you pulled a Mammon?" Jamil asked.

"I guess technically it's not a Mammon because I have permission to use his card, and Mammon often does not." You said thoughtfully. "But I have Lucifer's card, and Mammon and Levi managed to rig it so it'll work interdimensionally. Neato, huh?"

Yes, Mammon, the man who knows how money works better than anyone, and Leviathan, the most electronically adept demon you've ever met working together. It was a nightmare. But they get results, and the results are in your favor. Granted, you didn't ask them to do this, Lucifer did, but it was still to your benefit.

You didn't want to take Lucifer's card at first, knowing how tempted you would be to try to buy Night Raven College from Crowley, knowing everything has a price with that damned crow. However, the eldest demon brother insisted, telling you that he wanted you to have access to money while there, if only to prove that you didn't need to rely on Crowley anymore.

And, not to put this lightly, Lucifer is rich. Lucifer makes a lot of money doing what he does. He doesn't spend it all at once, and when he does, there's not much he wants. He's got a shit ton of money in his bank account. He insinuated that you could go wild with buying whatever you want, if you really wanted to, to prove your new status as a member of a high-ranking family like you are with them.

That being said, you did warn him that you intended to buy the entirety of Azul's menu, not only to eat as much of it as you could, but also because you wanted to embarrass him by letting Beel eat everything he has. And he seemed ok with this. As long as you were happy.

"His restaurant is decently expensive, do you really want to see just how much he can eat of Azul's food?" Jamil asked.

"I've got a jailbroken debit card that has essentially no limit. If I didn't have Beel here to convince me to only buy food, I'd be buying the school." You warned.

"I could do that." Kalim offered smiling. You gently patted his shoulder.

"Please do not." You asked gently. He frowned, but nodded. "You get a good taste of everything?" You asked Beel.

"It's really good." He complimented Jamil, as he nodded. "I like your blend of spices, and the different spice levels in each. The seasonings are really good, and the flavors are delicious. Everything is cooked really well, as well." Jamil was slightly taken aback by his review of the food, but nodded, and thanked him for his kind words.

"Time to go eat Azul out of house and home." You smiled at Beel. "It was lovely to see you both." You hugged Kalim and then Jamil, separately. "I will be stopping by once more, but," you glanced at the dent Beel had made in the food on the table, "likely with someone who has less of an appetite."

"You're welcome here anytime." Kalim assured. "Bring anyone you like, and please, do come back. It's good to see you." He beamed at you.

"Thanks Kalim, I will. I'll probably be bringing a few of my other friends. And this time," you looked to Jamil, "I promise to come after warning you." He nodded, thankful for your assurance. "Come on Beel, we gotta meet my friends and we have to get you to the Mostro Lounge in order to eat everything you can." You smiled as he rose from his seat, nodding.

"It was nice meeting you both." He nodded to Jamil and Kalim. Kalim, ever the sunshine, waved enthusiastically as you both left, whereas Jamil just watched you leave.

"You know, Grim. From here on out, you won't need to worry about other people feeding you. The House of Lamentation is almost always stocked with food. No more worrying about your next meal." You promised the cat, who was now resting across your shoulders. He laughed happily at the statement as you left Scarabia.

You quickly made your way from Scarabia, to Octavinelle, quickly met with your friend group, who physically tackled you to the ground, happy to be able to see you again. You introduced them to Beel, who intimidated most of them, but actually got into a nice conversation with Epel and Jack about sports, which Deuce quickly joined after catching up with you, as you walked into Octavinelle, before you were once again tackled, but this time by Floyd.

Floyd, who greeted you enthusiastically. You greeted him back, before quickly filling him in on your plan. Ever the chaotic entity, he merely smiled, in a scary ominous way, before bringing all of you to a table in the back, and went to fill Jade, who is in the kitchen of your plan.

You could practically see the terrified look on Azul's face now, which made you smile. Yeah, this is going to be good.

Belphegor:

"Leona!" You yelled as you entered Savanaclaw on a warpath.

You briefly stopped to politely greet Ruggie, who watched in shock as you, and your escort, marched to Leona's room. Your eye twitched as you watched Grim struggle against Leona's sleeping form. Having been in that position before, and knowing how strong his grip could get, you looked at Belphie.

"Can you go get him from whatever dreamscape he's in?"

"I can try."

"Can you wake him?"

"I most certainly can." He agreed, smiling at your insistence that this man must me woken, despite his usual insistence to just let people be when they sleep. He was more amused than anything, which is why he was going along with it.

You gestured for him to go ahead, and he transformed into his demon form with ease, walking over towards Leona. Grim, looking up at him, stopped moving in fear of the man. Belphegor, to his credit, didn't really pay any attention to your cat, more focused on the man holding the one thing you were more certain than anything that you wanted. He easily lifted his tail, and with quite a lot of force, smacked Leona's face with it. You winced in sympathy, but it woke up him up nonetheless.

The second he woke up, Belphegor transformed back to his normal form, before Leona could see him, and Leona easily released Grim, who jumped into your arms. Mission accomplished, Belphegor walked back over to you, draping himself over your shoulders. Once prompted, he gently pat Grim's head, Leona looking on incredulously.

"Um? Herbivore, what the fuck? How are you here? Why are you here? What did you do to me?"

"I don't know. Magic. To get Grim and wreak havoc. And I did nothing, ask Belphegor, he's great at causing damage to the human, or, in this case, beastman, body." You smile. "I mean, I should know better than anyone."

"Oi. You forgave me for that."

"I did." You nodded, acknowledging the statement. "Anyway, Belphie, this is Leona, prince of the Sunset Savanna. Leona, this is Belphegor, one of my new roommates."

"Is he like Diavolo?"

"Not in position or in personality, but he's still a prince." You denied. "Leona, if you come with me as I let Belphegor cause chaos at the dorm leader meeting, I will introduce you to a man who can actually pose a threat to you in chess."

"There's no one like that."

"Oh please. Don't make me drag you out of bed." You threatened, petting Grim as he tried to stifle his sobs in your shirt. You knew he wouldn't want to address it, so you didn't.

"Nah, I'd rather take a nap."

"Dude, if you just keep sleeping because you're depressed, you'll never really feel rested." Belphie warned.

"Take it from him, he's an expert." Belphie glared at you. "On sleep. Weirdo." He scoffed, but let it be. "Come on, Leona. You like to watch people's downfalls, why not watch Crowley's?" He raised an eyebrow, seemingly thinking about it. "I'll let you eat some of the meat where I live now, which I know you've never tried before." You tried to bribe. He pondered. "What do you want, Leona?"

"To sleep." You sighed at his answer, used to his stubbornness.

"Fine then, you lazy lion. I'll just leave you here."

"Why are you getting on my case about this when he's dozing off on your shoulder?"

"He has a better excuse than you." You shrugged, not explaining any further. "Regardless, I'll send Satan your way when and if he comes here. You guys will get along."

"Don't bother."

"I don't really think you quite understand." You sighed, shrugging Belphie off and handing Grim to him. "This is Belphegor, he lives with us now, you're coming back with me. I need a moment." Grim nodded, turning to glare at Belphegor. You walked over to Leona. "Leona." You said in a stern tone, grabbing his wrist and making him look you in the eyes. "You have said before that you're in your older brother's shadow, and you want to get out of it. Hell, you want to get out of it so bad you came to NRC, rather than his school of RSA. You're insanely smart, and while you don't do your work now, you could easily graduate if you wanted to, but you don't because you like your position here. Satan was literally created out of his brothers rage, and wants nothing more than to escape who he was created to be, because he believes that if he's anything like what people think he'd be, he will never escape his brothers shadow. He is also, insanely smart. I've witnessed him beat the crown prince of the kingdom we live in in chess. He hates his older brother, and probably more than you hate yours." You explained. "You two would probably get along great, better than you and your brother, and him and his older brother at least."

"I doubt it."

"You'll see, Leona. I promise." You sighed, letting him go. "I can make no guarantees, but I bet you two will get along. What do you think Belphie? You've known your brother longer than I have."

"He's got cat ears."

"I'm a lion beastman! And a prince of the Sunset Savanna!" Leona growled, glaring at Belphie.

"It's true, he's not a cat." You agreed. "And he shouldn't be treated as such, because he's a person. I'll have to make sure Satan doesn't ask any uncomfortable questions about beastmen and beastman culture." You thought aloud before deciding to quickly explain to Leona. "While it's not uncommon in certain forms for people in the kingdom Belphie, his brothers, and I live in, to have similarities to beastmen, but the culture of beastmen, and beastmen in general, are kind of nonexistent. There are rules of etiquette similar, like don't pull the tails, don't touch the wings, or horns, or anything. They're usually very polite about it, actually." You hummed thoughtfully. "That's besides the point. Satan, while scarily perceptive and usually good about not crossing any uncomfortable boundaries, is more than willing to cross those boundaries in the name of getting answers when he's curious about something."

"It's true." Belphie agreed.

"He won't try to pet me, right?!" Grim yelled, looking at you.

"Mayhaps? I told him that you're a cat, which,"

"I'm not!" He vehemently denied.

"I'm aware!" You denied, walking back over to him and taking him from Belphie, allowing him to climb up to your shoulders. Once up there, you gave him head rubs as he started purring. "But the closest describing word to what you are is catlike, or feline, or whatever. If you tell him not to, he'll probably be tempted to still, but he knows better than to touch things without permission, I just went over that with Leona." You explained. "So!" You turned to Belphie. "Ready to cause chaos at the Dorm Leader meeting?"

"Isn't he supposed to be there?"

"Technically, yes, but he's been a dorm leader longer than the rest, so he knows what they're talking about, probably better than Crowley does. Let's leave him be." You sighed, walking out of Leona's room, only to be almost tackled, immediately, by Jack, who was ecstatic to see you.

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saturnbellfromhell · 4 months ago

Text

RANDOM ASTRO OBSERVATIONS

Welcome back! I hope you relished my roasting series as much as I did. I can’t wait to create another one and laugh all over again. But for now, we’re returning to the heart of my account—my favorite kind of post. I love observing the people around me and capturing the psychological traits they all seem to share. I'm excited to see all of your feedback and hope you enjoy reading this post as much as I loved creating it! So let's begin, shall we...

▫️CAPRICORN SUN

I believe the perfect match for a Capricorn is an incredible Scorpio. Both signs carry a certain darkness and mystery, each in their own unique way. They share a sharp edge, a love for a little cynicism, and a reputation for being pessimistic—when in reality, they’re just deeply realistic. They both understand the isolating feeling of being surrounded by people yet still feeling alone. They’re keenly aware of how time can crawl and race all at once. More than anything, they need a partner who will stand by them unwaveringly—someone who would go to the ends of the earth for them.

They have a deep love for all animals, but while they may get along well with dogs, I believe Capricorns are naturally more drawn to cats. They appreciate the quiet companionship of a solitary, independent creature rather than one that is constantly energetic and demanding. A cat’s reserved yet loyal nature aligns perfectly with a Capricorn’s own sense of self.

Capricorns may sometimes be seen as boring—after all, they prioritize stability and practicality—but beneath that exterior lies a wise, spiritual, and introspective soul. They crave meaningful connections, thoughtful conversations, and depth that go beyond surface-level interactions. Shallow exchanges bore them; they seek substance, authenticity, and a bond that truly resonates.

▫️AQUARIUS SUN

Another Saturn-ruled sign, but this time with a more high-spirited and free-spirited nature than our dear Capricorn. What I find so amusing is that every Aquarius I know seems almost indifferent to their own birthday—not in a sad or melancholic way, but with a casual, “Oh, thanks, I guess” kind of attitude. It’s as if they view celebrations of themselves as unnecessary, yet they’ll happily go all out for others.

Aquarius and Capricorn have an undeniable pull toward each other. Capricorns admire Aquarius’s visionary mind, while Aquarius respects Capricorn’s quiet strength and determination. Though they approach life differently, they both share a deep sense of independence and an appreciation for intellect, making their bond very close.

▫️MOON IN 12th HOUSE

There’s so much to unpack in this observation. Highly psychic, intuitive, and almost otherworldly, they navigate the unseen realm as if it were their personal gateway to deeper self-awareness. They don’t just sense energy—they absorb it, making them incredibly empathetic yet easily drained by those who feel too "normal" or disconnected from the deeper layers of existence. Their intuition is sharp; they can read a room and spot a bad vibe from miles away. It’s less of a skill and more of a knowing.

Life for them rarely feels steady—there’s always another transformation, another shift, making a "normal" week or year feel almost impossible.

With the Moon in the 12th house, isolation isn’t just a preference—it becomes a necessary refuge, a way to process the overwhelming energies they absorb. It’s not just about wanting to be alone; it’s about needing to retreat to protect their own spirit. However, their biggest lesson is learning when to disconnect—stepping away before they become completely drained. If they fall into the trap of constant people-pleasing, they risk deeper isolation and, eventually, emotional exhaustion. To truly thrive, they must prioritize their own energy just as much as they do for others.

They are the empaths of society, the caregivers, the spiritual teachers, the mothers, the fathers, and much more. They are all of the above wrapped up. They have lived and outlived many lives before choosing this one. Always on a journey to complete an invisible mission.

▫️CANCER MOON

Often looked down upon for their love of solitude, these individuals are actually some of the most comforting souls to exist. They don’t ask for much—just a cozy room, dim lighting, and a lover by their side. You can already picture the kind of person they are: someone who finds joy in life’s simplest pleasures. They appreciate good food, tend to be naturally sleepy, and have a soft spot for people who are often misunderstood by others.

They’re always eager to help when needed, but when overstimulated, their mood shifts quickly—becoming grumpy, distant, or even off-putting. And when deeply hurt, they may resort to manipulation or cunning behavior. Angels become devils quickly if not attended to correctly.

▫️NEPTUNE IN THE 11th HOUSE

Neptune, the planet that embodies Piscean energy, isn’t concerned with reality. Instead, it drifts into dreams and the abyss. In your birth chart, Neptune reveals the areas where clarity can become clouded over time, where rose-colored glasses are often worn, distorting one’s perception. When Neptune resides in the 11th house, the realm of groups and friendships, it can make it difficult to see situations clearly, especially when it comes to choosing friends.

Those with this placement often find themselves losing friends, trusting too easily, or losing their sense of self in their relationships. They tend to see the best in others, which can lead to heartbreak when they realize too late that their trust was misplaced. What’s right in front of them can go unnoticed, and by the time the truth reveals itself, it’s often already too late. Keep a steady eye when having this placemnet. Sometimes, your biggest enemy is sitting right next to you.

▫️LIBRA SUN

Libras can be seen as the “popular girl” who effortlessly draws attention without needing to try too hard, unlike a Leo who thrives on being the center of the spotlight. They naturally shine, but they don’t need to vocalize or flaunt it—there's a quiet confidence to them. Their need to always appear at their best can sometimes come off as superficial or a bit fake, creating a sense of distance. However, what many overlook about Libra is the deeper, darker energy they carry beneath the surface—something that often remains hidden.

What you see with a Libra is typically what you get—99% of the time. They rarely let anyone see the depths of who they truly are. While their gorgeous exterior and enthusiastic demeanor attract many, most people don’t stick around long enough to see past the façade. Though they draw the interest of signs like Scorpio, Cancer, and Capricorn, these connections often fall short of the emotional depth and loyalty they seek.

Capricorns, for instance, are always a bit wary and never fully trust a Libra. There’s something about them that just doesn’t sit right, though they can’t quite pinpoint it. Cancers, on the other hand, may feel neglected and unappreciated, often leaving when they sense their efforts to care for Libra aren’t reciprocated. Scorpios, despite their initial attraction, get frustrated with Libra’s seemingly indifferent attitude—an attitude that, deep down, they know is a mask for vulnerability and insecurity. Though all three signs can sense the hidden layers, they often end up walking away when they realize they’re not getting the emotional connection they hoped for.

▫️MOON IN THE 8th HOUSE

Moon in the 8th house holds immense power, one that can be both a gift and a challenge. People with this placement have the potential to undergo profound transformations, constantly evolving and reshaping themselves. However, these transformations are rarely easy. They often come through deep emotional upheaval, and navigating these intense shifts can be draining and difficult.

The 8th house Moon individuals are deeply connected to the unseen and unconscious realms, making them highly sensitive to emotions, often to the point of becoming overwhelmed. If they don't learn to channel their emotional depth constructively, they can become disconnected from their true selves and find it hard to navigate their inner world.

Because they feel so much and often don’t have the tools or outlets to process these intense emotions, they can fall into coping mechanisms like substance abuse as a way to numb the emotional overload. This is especially true if the individual’s emotional needs are neglected, and the heavy energy of transformation becomes too much to bear. Without support, people with this placement can become trapped in their own emotional cycles.

However, when these individuals do unlock the potential of their Moon in the 8th house, they have an incredible ability to heal themselves and others. Their emotional depth can lead to profound self-awareness, transformation, and even a powerful ability to guide others through their own emotional challenges. The key is self-acceptance and learning how to process those intense emotions in healthy ways, avoiding the temptation to numb them.

As always, thank you for being here. Sending lots of love!

xoxo NK❤️

#astrology #astrology observations #astro observations #cancerian #leo energy #libra astrology #aquarius #capricorn #scorpio sun #capricorn sun #libra energy #libra sun #libra #cancer energy #just an observation #moon 12

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chuluoyi · 1 year ago

Note

first ultrasound with gojo (love entries) headcanons?❤️

࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 12:55 P.M 」

*sigh* why am i so weak to domestic requests... this is just a little thing i wrote in one sitting while stalling my nanami fic (and after coming back from the company retreat!) sobs, i'm going back to it i promise!! :')) this loosely takes place after daddy-to-be <3

a part of gojo's love entries

“now let us see…”

you were lying on the examination table as the ultrasound gel made contact with your still flat abdomen. the sheer coldness and the way the probe pressed hard on your skin made you wince a bit, until that discomfort was eased by a comforting squeeze of your hand, prompting you to turn your head towards the source.

your husband, gojo satoru, offered you a smile so warm it made everything else fade into the background. beyond his sunglasses was the way he always fondly looked at you, as if he was silently assuring you that he would be by your side every step of this journey.

you couldn't help but smile back at him.

“ah, here’s the baby,” your doctor gestured at the monochrome screen with a grin. “around five weeks now. it’s the size of a seed.”

a seed? your gaze fixed on the screen with a sense of wonder. honestly you couldn’t really pinpoint where your baby was, until you saw one dot that the doctor zoomed in.

and there it was—the tiny beginning of life. the product of you and your husband’s love, growing steadily inside you.

suddenly it felt so real that you were carrying a new life. your heart overflowed with warmth, swelling with emotion, and you struggled to hold back tears as your gaze shifted between the screen and satoru, who offered you a comforting pat on the head.

“hush,” he whispered softly, seemingly moved too after looking at the living testament of his baby on the screen. “don’t cry now, hmm?”

after seeing the sonogram and had it printed, both of you sat before the doctor as she instructed you to take things easy from now on, and through it all, satoru held your hand firmly in his, attentively listening to everything the doctor mentioned and even proactively asking questions in return.

“doc, she gets dizzy and nauseous easily, can you prescribe her something to make it bearable?”

“i can certainly prescribe some anti-sickness medication, but i highly recommend you to have plenty of rests and eat healthy food too to reduce morning sickness—”

“hmm, and can you recommend anything to improve sleep? she can have trouble sleeping too…”

honestly it touched you to see satoru picked up on these little things about you despite being away so often. only now did you realize that he had always been watching over you, without fail.

back at home, he sat you down on your bed, back to being a carefree clown who would draw laughs out of you.

“now, little mom,” he began, his lips already turning up into a grin as he took your hands in his, kneeling before you. “you need to listen to me very closely, okay?”

you snorted. “don't address me like that!”

“uh-oh, no squirming,” satoru warned playfully, pinching your cheeks, and you swatted his hand, holding back giggles.

oh my. just what a blissfully happy couple you were.

“first thing first, now you are to have lots of breaks and rest,” he declared, amusement melted a bit from his tone. “the doctor said so. it'll help with your nausea too. if you feel the slightest bit unwell, you have to go back and rest.”

you rolled your eyes. “yeah, yeah...”

“and no staying up late too,” he added, fixing his clear eyes on yours. “especially not for waiting for me to be home.”

that got you to clamp up. so he noticed it too, the way you would always wait for him, even at the cost of not sleeping at all. satoru never really said anything all this time, but now you knew, he was indeed worried.

once again, your chest burst with love and warmth. but still...

“can you promise me that?” satoru asked you gently, his smile still in place, but you knew the underlying command behind those words. “i'm coming back. always. i have everything i want here, with you. there's no way i'm not coming back.”

you hung onto his every word, and much like spellbound, you let go of everything and nodded.

“and now baby...”

he then shifted his focus to your tummy, gently brushing his fingers across it, and the gesture stirred something inside you, making you throb with emotion.

“you only have one job. grow big and healthy, and you can even bother mama sometimes! just don't make her too sick or i'll worry...”

somehow your vision blurred with tears, hearing how unusually earnest he was. “satoru, you're so silly.”

but as always, he would pick this moment to flip the switch, reverting back to his usual teasing.

“hmm, what's that? you're getting soft now, aren't you, mommy~?”

“...why do you have to sound like that? you're making it lewd on purpose!”

in this little world of love of yours, it was just you and him, along with the tales of your life together. you had weathered various moments side by side, and now, as you were embarking on another significant chapter with him, you were certain that everything would be alright.

satoru pulled you to the bed and smothered your head with kisses, trapping you between his strong arms. “hmm, comfy now?”

“mmm, yeah. keep cuddling me...”

and from his side, he was sure, that right now, everything had never been and felt so right than ever before—with the love of his life and future in his arms.

#𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk imagines #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jjk fanfic #gojo satoru fluff #jjk fluff #gojo x you #satoru gojo fluff #jjk x reader fluff

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manmuncher777 · 3 months ago

Note

Visiting kuna while he’s in prison. Eughhhh 😈😈😈 especially if he gotta go buzz 😩

Awh hell yeah nonnie, you just like me fr. Enjoy my love🌟🌟

18+ MDNI SMUT

“I-I” you stuttered out, unable to come up with an explanation that might soothe the feral man beneath you. Nothing good coming to mind

“You-You. You what sweetheart?” His gruff voice rings in your ears, snapping you out of your brain fog. Visiting your boyfriend in prison had it benefits. Especially when hes a well known gang member. It allows for certain perks. Like him being allowed to have your visits in his room, a room that he doesnt have to share. For this you were very glad, seeing as you were straddling sukuna on his bunk, having a very private conversation.

“Come on baby, use that big girl brain of yours and tell me, I wanna know.” Sukuna had been in prison for months now, and each night you were getting lonelier and lonelier. And of one of the nights you were missing him… badly. Deciding to write him a letter, describing exactly how badly you needed him, what you wanted him to do to you, and if that wasnt enough you included a few photos of yourself to show him how much you missed him. Only that had now backfired on you as you realised you had riled up an imprisoned man, and now you were going to have to face the consequences

“ I wanna know exactly what you were thinking when you sent that to me.” Huge hands that previously rested on your hips now travelling to your ass, holding the flesh tight through your skirt. Pressing you down onto his growing buulge that was highly visible in his orange jumpsuit

“Because to me, thats just not fair, teasing me with those fucking Polaroids, looking all pretty and shit when you come and see me.”

“Kuna…” your voice trailed off, unsure of what to say. No actual words flowing though your minds, only filthy thoughts of the man beneath you. Face flushing as he speaks. All you can do is try and focus on what hes saying to you, but that same feeling if need you had the other night is now crawling up your spine, soaking your little panties.

But Sukuna wasnt happy with that reaction, he wanted more from you. He wanted to get you as needy as you had made him that night.

The air in Sukuna’s cell is thick, charged, the tension palpable. His hands, lazily resting on your ass, don’t move—but his smirk? That deep, knowing smirk is a weapon in itself. He lounges against the cold wall like a king on his throne, utterly at ease.

And yet, it’s you who feels trapped.

Because his eyes, dark with amusement and something far more dangerous, trace the curve of your lips, the flutter of your lashes, the way your breath hitches every time he exhales against your skin. He’s enjoying this—enjoying you—and he hasn’t even touched you properly yet.

If you weren’t going to talk about the letter, he was just going to have to tease it out of you.

“So,” he purrs, tilting his head. “A little bird tells me you’ve been thinking about me.”

Your body tenses at his words, mind buzzing with so many thoughts, but you force yourself to answer him, doing your best to cling onto he little resolve you have left. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His chuckle is low, taunting. “Oh, don’t play coy now, sweetheart. Not after that filthy little letter you sent me.” His fingers flex against your thighs, not quite gripping, just there, a reminder of how easily he could control the situation if he wanted to. “What was it you said? You couldn’t stop thinking about me—” he drags the words out, watching your reaction closely, “—about my hands on you?”

Your stomach twists, heat rushing up your neck. “I—I didn’t—”

“Oh, you did.” His grin widens, razor-sharp. “You even described exactly what you wanted me to do to you.” His eyes darken as he leans in, voice dropping to a whisper. “Such a dirty little thing, putting it all in writing. You wanted me to read it and ache for you, is that it?”

Your nails dig into his shoulders as you try to push away, but his hands slide up to your waist, keeping you firmly in place. Not squeezing, not forcing, just holding—a warning.

He tilts his head, feigning concern. “Look at you. All flustered. You weren’t so shy when you were begging on paper.”

You suck in a sharp breath. “I wasn’t—”

“You were.” His lips are so close now, brushing against the shell of your ear as he murmurs, “Should I remind you exactly what you wrote? Word for word?”

You shake your head quickly, a rush of embarrassment flooding through you, but he just hums in amusement.

“Mm. No? Shame. It was my favorite bedtime story.” His tongue clicks, mock disappointment laced in his tone. Then, with deliberate slowness, he exhales against your neck, letting his breath ghost over your skin. “I wonder… if I touched you now, would I find you as eager as you claimed to be?”

Your breath stutters, thighs instinctively pressing together, pressing yourself onto the bulge beneath you. And that’s all the reaction he needs.

His smirk sharpens. “Ahh… There she is.”

And you realize—he’s not done playing with you yet. Not even close.

“Now what was it you said?…:His hips subtly shifting upwards into your, pressing himself deeper into you. Knowing it was driving you wild. Fake pondering as he recalled your writing “You wanted my fingers, because yours couldn’t stretch out that pretty little pussy like mine do.”

“I- um” your eyes flit about the room, struggling to stay locked on his, his predatory gaze watching your every move

“How badly you missed my cock, deep inside” One of his hands trailing around to press on your tummy gently, right where his cock would show when he fucked you.

The words dying in your throat as he gives you a Cheshire Cat like grin. You were fucked.

“Tell me girl, did I get that right?” His pearly white teeth flashing as he spoke, fully aware he already knew the answer.

A small nod was all you could muster. But that was enough for him.

Sukuna’s hands slide lower, skimming the hem of your skirt, and you feel the ghost of his touch against your thighs—light, teasing, deliberate. He hasn’t even moved to lift it yet, but you swear your breath is already hitching, anticipation coiling tight in your stomach.

“What’s this?” he murmurs, dragging the tips of his fingers along the fabric. “Wearing something so short to see me… were you hoping I’d take it off?”

Your lips part, but nothing comes out.

Sukuna chuckles darkly, his grip finally tightening, just enough to make you squirm. “Come on, sweetheart. You had all that confidence when you wrote to me. Tell me…” His fingers inch under the fabric, knuckles brushing against your bare skin. “Did you get wet thinking about me touching you like this?”

A sharp gasp escapes you as he pushes your skirt up, exposing more of your thighs. The cool air kisses your overheated skin, and you reflexively grab his wrist, a weak attempt at stopping him.

He laughs at the gesture—deep, rich, cruel.

“Oh? Now you want to act shy?” His other hand trails up your back, slow and possessive. “Should I stop?” His voice is a mockery of innocence, but the look in his eyes is pure hunger.

Your silence betrays you.

His smirk deepens. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

And then—so agonizingly slow—you feel him peel your skirt down, the fabric dragging over your thighs, your knees, your ankles until it’s gone, discarded on the floor.

Sukuna leans back against the wall, gaze devouring the sight of you. “Now, that’s better.” His hands settle on your now-bare thighs, fingers pressing just enough to make your breath catch. “You look much prettier like this, trembling in my lap.”

His lips curl as he watches you, his next words laced with dark amusement.

Sukuna hums, dragging his palms up your thighs, fingers pressing just enough to make your breath catch. He spreads his legs a little wider beneath you, making sure you feel the hard press of him beneath you, and fuck, you can’t stop the way your body tenses at the realization.

His smirk deepens. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” His fingers skim higher, brushing over your inner thigh—light, teasing, barely there. “You were so bold with those little Polaroids… don’t tell me you’re already getting shy?”

You bite your lip, trying to glare at him, but it only makes his smirk widen.

Sukuna leans in close, lips ghosting against your ear. “Tell me,” he murmurs, voice dropping into something dark and syrupy, “when you wrote that letter… were your fingers between your legs?”

A sharp inhale. Your whole body heats at the question, and the moment you hesitate, his hand slides up—fingers just grazing over the heat between your legs.

Your hips jolt instinctively, and he fucking laughs. You can feel your mind slowly slipping with each passing moment, struggling to keep composure

“Ohh, you were, weren’t you?” He clicks his tongue, amused. “You really laid in bed, all alone, spreading your legs and touching yourself while thinking about me?”

You should deny it. You should push away that smug grin of his, but the way his fingers press a little firmer against your clothed core makes any coherent thought vanish. Prickles of pleasure flow up your skin as you finally get the touch you had been missing.

He watches you struggle, loves how easily he’s unraveling you. “Didn’t even have me, and you still came all over your own fingers, huh?” His voice is so mocking, so cruelly sweet, and then—without warning—his fingers slip beneath the fabric of your underwear.

Your breath stutters.

Sukuna exhales a low tch the second he feels it. “Holy fuck.” His fingers slide through the slick heat of your needy cunt, languid, slow, as if testing just how drenched you are for him. His smirk sharpens. “You’re soaking.”

You bite back a whimper as he drags his fingers through your folds, spreading your wetness, moving in agonizingly slow strokes that make your thighs twitch. His free hand grips your waist, keeping you still in his lap

“Fuckin’ knew it,” he mutters, mostly to himself, the edge of a chuckle laced in his words. “Knew you’d be a mess for me.”

And then, just when your body starts to tense, when you need more, he pulls his hand away.

You make a noise of protest before you can stop yourself, and he grins. “Oh? You want more?” His slick fingers trace teasing circles against your inner thigh, refusing to give you what you so clearly need. “Then ask for it, sweetheart.”

Your pride fights against the growing, unbearable ache. You try to grind against his thigh instead, desperate for any kind of friction, but his hands are there, holding you in place.

“Ah, ah,” Sukuna tuts, dragging his tongue over his teeth. “You’re not getting shit until I hear you beg for it properly.”

His fingers stroke your thigh again—so fucking close, but still not enough.

You shudder, swallowing your pride. “Please.”

His smirk darkens. “Louder.”

You glare at him, breath shaky. “Please, Sukuna—”

And fuck, that’s all he needed.

He shoves his hand back between your legs, two fingers sliding inside you in one slow, deep stroke—so smooth, so effortless, your walls stretching around him as if your body was made to take him.

You choke on a gasp, clenching down around his fingers, and he groans against your ear. “Ohhh, there it is,” he mutters, voice thick with satisfaction. “That pretty little cunt was just waiting to be filled, huh?”

His fingers pump into you at a leisurely pace, dragging along every sensitive spot inside you, curling slightly with every deep stroke. Your head tips back, breathless, aching, because it’s still not enough.

Sukuna’s fingers work you open slowly, deliberately, making sure you feel every deep stroke, every lazy curl of his fingers against that spot inside you that makes your legs tremble. His other hand is firm on your waist, keeping you exactly where he wants you, making sure you don’t squirm away from his relentless teasing.

“Fuck,” he groans, watching the way your body reacts to him, the way your walls clench around his fingers every time he drags them out just to push them back in, deeper, rougher. “You’re so tight. Haven’t been properly fucked in a while, huh?”

You whimper, clutching at his shoulders, your thighs tensing around his hips. He smirks. “Poor baby,” he muses, voice dropping, “Makin me feel bad for not being there to fuck you properly”

He buries his fingers inside you to the knuckle, pressing against the soft, spongy spot deep inside you that has you gasping, nails digging into his skin.

“Ahh, there it is,” he laughs. “That’s the spot, huh?” His fingers curl again, harder, pulling a sharp cry from your lips. “Yeah. I can feel you squeezing me so fucking tight. You gonna cum for me already?”

Your head tips back, your body rocking forward instinctively, chasing every stroke of his fingers, aching for more. But Sukuna sees it, sees you getting desperate, and instead of giving you what you need, he slows down.

Your breath stutters, a frustrated whine spilling from your throat as he deliberately drags out every motion, keeping you right on the edge without letting you tip over.

Sukuna grins against your throat, teeth grazing your skin. “Tch. Look at you,” he murmurs, amused. “So fucking needy.”

He presses a kiss to your pulse, almost mockingly sweet. Then, with a slow, devastating thrust of his fingers, he curls them just right—just deep enough, just sharp enough—

And you break.

Your whole body tenses, pleasure ripping through you as your walls flutter around his fingers, your breath coming in broken, stuttering gasps as the tension inside you snaps. Your thighs shake against his hips, your nails scraping down his arms as you ride it out, grinding helplessly into his hand as he works you through it.

Sukuna groans, his free hand gripping your waist as you tremble against him. “That’s it,” he murmurs, drinking in the sight of you coming apart in his lap. “Fuck, you’re so pretty like this. So fucking messy.”

His fingers don’t stop until your body jerks from oversensitivity, and only then does he pull them out—slow, teasing, dragging it out just to watch you shudder.

Then he brings them to his lips.

You watch, dazed, as he licks the slick from his fingers, humming thoughtfully as he tastes you. His eyes darken, tongue dragging over the pad of his thumb as he smirks.

“Always miss your taste sweets.”

He tilts his head, gaze flickering over your wrecked expression. “Think you’re ready for my cock now?”=

Sukuna’s fingers leave you aching, your thighs still trembling from the aftershocks, but he doesn’t give you a moment to recover. No, he just smirks, eyes burning as he watches you struggle to catch your breath, utterly wrecked in his lap.

Then, with a sharp grip on your hips, he grinds up against you, letting you feel just how painfully hard he is beneath you.

You whimper, hips jerking forward instinctively, and Sukuna groans low in his throat, his fingers tightening against your skin. “Ohh, fuck,” he drawls, head tipping back for a second before his gaze snaps back to you, hungry, dark with something ravenous. “You feel that, sweetheart?”

You can barely think, let alone answer.

He chuckles, teeth flashing. “Of course you do. You’re already rocking against it, huh?” His hands guide your hips, forcing you to grind against his length, the thick heat of it pressing between your slick folds. “Tch. So fucking desperate.”

Your breath shatters as he moves your hips again, forcing more friction against your already aching clit, and the sensation sends lightning through your veins.

“You gonna let me fuck you now?” Sukuna mutters against your ear, voice thick with amusement, but fucking starving at the same time. “You got me so hard, you better be ready to take it.”

He shifts beneath you, one hand reaching down to free himself, and when you feel the hot, heavy weight of his cock slap against your slick folds—thick, unrelenting, already leaking at the tip—your whole body shudders.

Sukuna smirks. “Ohh, I know you’re wet enough for it, but—” He grips his cock, dragging the head through your soaked folds, coating himself in your slick but not pushing in. “—I wanna hear you beg for it first.”

You whimper, grinding down against the head of his cock, desperate, but he just laughs.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Be a good girl and tell me how bad you want it.” He presses his tip just against your entrance, teasing, mocking, but refuses to give you more. “Or else I’ll make you sit here and fucking wait for it.”

His free hand tightens in your hair, yanking your head back slightly, his mouth grazing your throat.

“You wouldn’t want that, would you?”

His cock nudges at your entrance again, but still—still—he doesn’t push in.

And with the way your body is aching, the way his fingers are digging into your hips, the way his breath is so fucking heavy against your skin—

You know.

He’s going to make you beg for it.

And he won’t stop until you’re screaming his name

But you can’t help it—your body is on fire, still desperate for him, and every breath feels like it’s drawing you closer to the edge again. Sukuna leans back, his smirk never fading as he watches you struggling to even form a coherent sentence at this point

“Missed your cock so bad Kuna~” you whine out pathetically, hoping he would show you mercy and give you exactly what you had been craving

Sukuna chuckles, low and dark. “You really thought I’d let you get off that easy? Tch, you’re adorable.” His hand snakes around to your back, fingers digging into the soft skin there, and he pulls you closer—pressing your body flush against his. The heat of his skin, the weight of him, it drives you wild all over again.

His lips brush against your ear, his voice a gravelly whisper. “You’re going to take every inch of me, aren’t you?” His words send a shiver down your spine. “All that teasing? I’ve been waiting for you to beg for me. You wanted me, now you’re going to take it.”

With a sudden, fluid motion, he grips your thighs, pushing you higher up his lap. You feel the tip of his cock against your entrance, teasing, just barely brushing you. His smirk is cruel as he watches your face flush with the need. “Go on, sweetheart. Show me how much you want me.”

You don’t need him to say it twice. With a sharp, needy gasp, you push down onto him, feeling his length stretch you, fill you as you sink down slowly, painfully, inch by inch. The stretch is almost too much, but the ache is exactly what you’ve been craving.

Sukuna’s eyes close for a moment, his lips parting in a low groan as he feels you grip him. “Fuck, that’s it. Such a tight little cunt. So fucking perfect for me.”

You rock your hips, hands gripping his shoulders for support as you start to move, his body perfectly aligned beneath you. Each thrust you make is slow, deliberate, a mix of pleasure and need, the way his hands dig into your skin, urging you on. His grip tightens with every movement, guiding you, making you feel every inch of him as he shifts beneath you.

But he doesn’t let you forget he’s still in control. “You’re so fucking desperate,” he mutters, voice thick with lust. “Cumming on my fingers like that, and now you can’t even think straight. Pathetic.”

Your body shudders with each word, the way his cock fills you deep, pushing you to the edge of insanity. It’s all too much and not enough at the same time. You push harder, riding him, needing more, needing everything.

Sukuna’s hand finds your throat, squeezing lightly, not enough to choke you, but enough to make your breath catch in your throat as he pulls you forward. “Come on. You’re close, aren’t you?” His voice is low, commanding. “Beg for it. Tell me how much you need it.”

“P-Please! Kuna, need it so bad”

The way Sukuna’s hands grip your hips, guiding your movements as he watches you unravel, it feels like he’s claiming every inch of you—every piece of your will, your dignity, your ability to think straight. He’s controlling the rhythm now, forcing you to take him deep, making you feel every inch of him. His eyes are intense, burning with something darker than lust—something deeper, something possessive.

“Look at you,” Sukuna growls, his chest rising with every breath. “I’ve waited so long for this. You… you make me wait, tease me, and now you’re finally giving in. Isn’t that right?”

You can barely form a coherent thought, your mind spinning, body on fire, each movement more desperate than the last. But Sukuna doesn’t care. He’s not slowing down. He’s chasing his own pleasure now, pushing you harder, deeper, rougher, making you feel every inch of his cock, every thrust.

“You like that, huh?” Sukuna snarls, pulling your body flush against his, his teeth grazing your neck as he watches you struggle to keep up. “You love to tease me while im locked up in here”

His words only seem to make it worse, your body clenching around him with the reminder of what started all this. He remembers, and now you’re paying for it.

“I’ve missed you,” he admits, almost as though he’s surprised by it himself. His voice drops low, and for the briefest moment, there’s a sincerity to his tone that almost makes you forget he’s the King of Curses. “Missed how you taste. How you feel. How good you are to me. How you stayed with me”

He doesn’t give you time to process the weight of his words. Instead, he slams into you harder, faster, your body shaking with each thrust. He’s relentless—determined to take every ounce of control, making sure you’re his.

Your body is a mess of sensation, the pressure building, rising higher and higher with every thrust, every growl of his voice. The way his hands are gripping your body—like he’s scared you’ll slip away, like he’s afraid of losing you all over again—pushes you to the edge.

“You feel so fucking good,” he whispers against your ear, his voice thick with lust. “Tight. Perfect.” His grip tightens, and you feel him hit even deeper, the force of it pushing you toward the brink.

You can barely think now, only feeling—only craving the release that’s so close but seems just out of reach. His words—his confession of missing you, his twisted affection—sends something raw through you, unraveling every last shred of control you had left.

And then, without warning, he shifts his grip, pulling you harder down onto him, and that’s all it takes. The pressure inside you snaps. The orgasm rips through you in waves, overwhelming your senses, and you let out a ragged cry as you come apart in his lap. Your body shudders, spasms of pleasure wracking you as he holds you steady, refusing to let you go, keeping you exactly where he wants you.

Sukuna doesn’t stop, though—his thrusts become more frantic, chasing his own release, but he doesn’t let go of you for even a second. His fingers dig into your skin, pulling you closer to him as he moves faster, his voice rougher now.

“Fuck,” he groans, his movements becoming more erratic. “You’re so fucking perfect. Cumming on my cock like the perfect girl you are”

And then, with a final, brutal thrust, he’s there, spilling inside you, his body shuddering as he grinds against you, his breath hot against your skin. For a moment, he just holds you, both of you tangled up in the aftermath, trying to catch your breath.

His hand slides to your back, holding you close. “I’m not letting you go,” he mutters, almost like a promise—or a warning.

You can barely respond, your body still trembling from the intensity, but you feel him stiffen slightly, his grip tightening even more possessively around you. His lips brush your ear again. “You’re mine, you know.”

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #sukuna smut #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #jjk ryomen #ryomen x reader #sukuna ryomen smut #ryomen x y/n #jujutsu kaisen ryomen #Ryomen smut #sukuna Ryomen #Ryomen

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 7 months ago

Text

Rook Hunt: In Plain Sight

THE NEIGE MERCH HAIR CLIPS… and his makeup box being similar to the box the queen provided to hold Snow White’s heart…

Rise and Shine!

"I burn and turn red easily. Of course, I'm in the habit of using sun protection and shading my skin from harmful UV rays now, but my skin still bears marks of damage."

“Damage?” you had squinted at him, searching for those imperfections he had spoken of. “Strange. I don’t see anything like that.”

And then he had given that mysterious smile, a finger to his wistful lips. "Ah, because I hide it well. Shall I show you my secret? Attendez, s'il vous plaît."

His “secret”, as Rook had put it, was not magic.

You knelt down, peering into his circular mirror lines with lights. Rook, flaxen hair pinned back with various clips—bows and a bluebird-shaped one—met your gaze in his reflection. His forest green eyes creased slightly, a sign you had come to learn meant he was amused.

Graceful hands unlocked a wooden box. The lid flipped open, revealing various tubes hidden inside. Mascara, lip gloss, eye liners… A treasure trove of makeup.

He selected a container filled with a fair creamy substance. Twisting the tube open, it revealed a slim applicator with a fluffy end.

“This comes highly recommended by Vil,” Rook chirped. “It’s a long-lasting, sweat-proof, and crease-free concealer. The formula is hydrating enough to stand up to the elements, but strong enough to not melt off during the day. Ideal for the life of a busy huntsman!”

He continued to babble as he dotted the concealer across his cheeks and nose. The spray of freckles there slowly disappeared behind a layer of skin-like color. You followed the flick of his wrist, watching how artfully he buffed out the product upon the blank page called him.

“This type of applicator is known as a doe foot. It is named for the small, slightly slanted foot of a female deer, also known as a doe. When I was first introduced to cosmetics, I thought that all applicators were named after animal anatomy! It would have certainly helped me in memorizing them."

“It sounds like he really drilled this information into your head,” you murmured, brows raised. “It shows in how you look too. You’re so different from how you were back then. More…”

You conjured the image of Rook in his Savanaclaw days. His hair was longer then, scraped back into a bushy ponytail resembling the hide of a ratty beast. Sometimes twigs and leaves would snag in it. Rook’s school-issued dormitory pants were torn at the knees, and he was always nursing some kind of bruise or dirt stain. Without sleeves, his large arms were on full display, the muscles straining and shifting when he tugged on a bowstring.

Compared to now…

You scanned Rook’s floaty white pajamas. A long-sleeved night gown over trousers, plus a cap he had removed earlier.

Covered up was the first thing that came to your mind. You settled for something else.

“… Demure, mindful.”

Those, you knew, were the last words anyone—particularly fae, beastmen, and merfolk—would bestow upon Rook Hunt. He knew it too, if the twinkle in his eyes was of any indication.

Rook slotted the wand back into its bottle and turned to you, wiggling a hand to present bis finished face. “Voilà! The results of Pomefiore’s teachings.”

You looked at him.

Hesitated.

“… Can I?”

“You may,” he said with a faint chuckle, his lids drifting shut.

You gingerly cupped his cheeks in your palms, careful not to smudge his makeup as you slowly tiled his head back. It was like you were handling porcelain, too afraid of dropping it. His Adam’s apple bobbed—up, down—like your heart’s rapid thumping. Your thumb brushed aside a golden lock.

Skin as smooth as silk, an even shade throughout. Fine hair like fresh wheat spun into gold. And mouth a pale pink, like the blush of an apple blossom.

No hat to hide it all.

Like this, he was almost like a princess trapped under a glass coffin.

The truth of him, in plain sight. A raw, gentle beauty he allowed few others to glimpse.

Breath caught in your chest.

“… Sorry. I’m afraid I still don’t see those ‘marks of damage’ you were talking about before,” you apologized. “With freckles or without… Frizzy hair or not… Covered or out in the open… Rook-senpai is still beautiful in every way.”

He cracked an eye open a sliver. “… Oh la la, aren’t we feeling feisty this morning?”

“Yes. I’m the Magic Mirror,” you teased, laughing as you released him from your grasp. “I only speak the truth.”

“So you do.”

Rook loaded his doe foot again. But this time, he cheekily dabbed the wand on the tip of your nose, leaving a light blob behind.

“H-Hey…!” you protested, hands flying there to wipe the spot clean. “Rook…!”

“Fufufu. Those candid, unguarded expressions of yours are delightful.”

He dropped the concealer back into its box. Humming, his hand hovered over an eye pencil. Rook held it up, angling it slanted against your body from a distance—an artist ogling his next masterpiece.

“I would love to capture you upon a canvas,” he mused, tracing the outline of you in the air. “Like the polished face of a looking glass… you speak with both sincerity and clarity. That kind of honesty is a rarity.”

“Y-You should focus on finishing your makeup first, or else you’ll be in for a scolding from your dorm leader,” you advised, though your voice was but a mumble. “Geez… you’re always dumping so much praise onto me.”

“Beauty of all kinds should be seen and shared. It just so happens that you have a bounty of it—and so, there is much of you for me to acknowledge.”

“And there’s still so much of you I have to figure out…” you added with a sigh. Somewhat resigned, but also half longing.

“Oh my. Then it sounds as though we have a long partnership ahead of ourselves~”

Grinning like a vulpine, the huntsman began to draw with his liner, forming sharp points at the edges of his eyes. You observed quietly, a birdwatcher to a hawk.

One day, I’ll unlock all of your secrets. Like this chest you keep your makeup in, or those sleeves you cover your limbs with. I’ll expose your ‘truth’… Rook Hunt!

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #Rook Hunt #twst x reader #Rook Hunt x Reader #Reader #self insert #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #something no one asked for #Rook birthday takeover #jp spoilers

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florencebirdsong · 8 months ago

Text

Bad Decisions

Agatha Harkness x Reader

Sharing Is Caring - Chapter 1/2

Summary: Rio allows Agatha a turn with her pet.

Tags: fingering (r recieving), light degradation, owner/pet dynamics, but not any actual pet play in the fic itself, I couldn’t squeeze it in :(, Mistress Agatha, Sir Rio, teasing, orgasm denial, oral fixation, brief mention of drooling, boot worship/humping, petting, light hair pulling, switch used for caning mentioned, Agatha is stressed and horny

Words: 2k+ | AO3 | Masterlist

Authors Note: Not enough Agatha x Rio x Reader and I had a craving so here we are.

Side note: Agatha never calls Teen pet in this universe

“Come, pet,” Agatha says as she walked off.

You take two steps before realising that Agatha is not in charge of you. You turn to Rio who looks highly amused. She jerks her chin in Agatha’s direction.

“Tell me about it later.”

Embarrassment and anticipation runs through you. It’s highly unlikely the other women in the group don’t know what’s happening. But the way Rio will react when you recount every detail of what Agatha did to you sends shivers down your spine.

The only reason nothing has happened in front of them is because there’s a teenager here as well.

You hurry after Agatha. She’s got the patience of a killer but she doesn’t like waiting when she doesn’t need to.

As soon as you’re out of sight of the others Agatha slams you against a tree. Her lips are on yours in a heartbeat and her hand reaches up to grope your breast. She doesn’t say anything, just kisses you like she can consume you. You’ve missed her.

She doesn’t waste time. Her hand slips under your waistband and she’s pushing two fingers inside of you without preamble.

A pained whine escapes you. You’re embarrassingly wet so there’s no friction but the sudden stretch is deliciously painful.

“You’re so tight,” she licks her bottom lip. “I can’t remember a time when you weren’t gaping. Has Rio not been looking after you?”

She slams her fingers into you again the second you go start to speak, turning your words into a choked noise.

“Poor thing,” she coos mockingly. “Your pussy has just been aching for a good fucking, hasn’t it?”

You’re too busy moaning to respond. Not that there’s a safe way to respond to that question with Rio around the bend.

Her fingers curl and you finally give in and cling to her. She presses against that spongy bit inside of you and laughs lowly at the way you curl around her.

“Still so easy, huh pet?”

You try to deny it with a whine but your slick is dripping down her hand.

“I think you are,” she says and slips a third finger in on her next thrust. Your cry turns into a moan as her thumb rubs your clit. “One word from me and a nod from your owner and you’re a dripping mess.”

You moan and bury your head in her neck.

“I bet you would have done anything to have my hands on you again,” she curls her fingers again. “Say yes mistress.”

“Yes, mistress,” you manage to gasp. She rewards you with firm circles around your clit that has electricity shooting up your spine.

“I’ll be nice and let you come. But only this once. The others won’t be given so easily.”

Your toes curl. Others. You pray Rio allows it. Just imagining it, Rio’s tongue on your tits while Agatha fucks you to completion has you hurtling toward the edge.

“Ah ah,” Agatha says and slows when you are moments from your peak, “Say thank you mistress.”

“Thank you mistress,” you repeat instantly. You arch desperately when she doesn’t speed up again.

“Say you belong to me,” her voice so low it scratches that thing in the back of your brain.

Your mouth falls open but no sound comes out. You can’t. You can’t and Agatha knows that. She’s well aware of the magic binding you to Rio.

“Just four little words.”

No matter how hard you try you can’t force anything other than a whine out.

“Pity,” she says and pulls away. Your legs are too weak to hold you and you fall to your knees.

“Wait, wait, please,” you gasp and reach for her, “I’ll be good. You said I could come. Please let me come.”

Her smile is sharp.

“You can’t very well be good and come without your owners permission, can you?”

It’s hard to think through the haze but your fingers slacken when realisation hits you. This was either going to end with an edge or bent over Rio’s knee.

“Aw, don’t give me that pathetic face,” she runs wet fingers down your cheek. “You know it only makes me want to hurt you more.”

It’s always been a hard decision between a punishment from Agatha or one from Rio, and it’s a position they loved to put you in. But you haven’t seen Agatha in decades.

You lightly grasp her wrist and pull her wet fingers to your mouth. Her eyes darken again as you gently wrap your lips around them, moaning at your own taste.

It’s only when your tongue brushes them that she warningly says, “Careful.”

It doesn’t deter you.

She presses down on your tongue and your eyes roll back as fuzz begins to fill your brain again.

“I can never remember whether you always had such a fixation with things on your tongue or if we trained it into you.”

She nudges her foot between your leg.

“Let’s see if you can come just from this, shall we?”

You have before, but that was with Agatha using her magic to add an extra sensation.

Agatha begins to slowly run her fingers back and forth and your hips follow the same rhythm.

The pressure isn’t anything like she can give you with her hands but it’s outweighed by the feeling of her on your tongue. A light scrape of her nails has lightning travelling down your spine and right to your clit.

You moan and press closer to her, barely aware of the drool sliding down your chin.

You finally find an angle that brings sweet pressure on your clit. You grind desperately against her. Your rhythm non-existent, chaotic and choppy.

What should be slow builds fast with Agatha’s fingers in your mouth. The heat grows until it’s unbearable and you desperate fuck yourself against her boot as the fear she’ll make you stop grows.

She doesn’t. Instead, she presses down hard with her fingers and drinks in your expression as you cross the edge.

Your moan is a garbled mess as pleasure washes over you and you barely manage to keep your eyes cracked open as you come, desperate to see every minute shift of Agatha’s expression.

Her removing her fingers from your mouths feels just as bad as when removes them from your core but you try not to be too greedy and stay quiet.

She wipes her fingers on her pants as the aftershocks fade. You slump fully against her leg and she gently runs a hand through your hair. Footsteps sound but you can’t be bothered to worry.

Agatha’s hand stills the moment the person comes into view. The fact she didn’t pull completely away means it isn’t Teen. Which leaves one other person.

“Looks like someone’s been a naughty girl,” Rio says as she comes up behind you.

You muster a whine and nudge Agatha’s hand again. You don’t want her to go back to her frosty mask. It hurts.

She starts patting you again but doesn’t take her eyes off Rio.

“Taking things that aren’t yours again, sweetheart?” Rio asks.

“Is it considered taking when she threw herself at my feet?”

You can feel Rio’s dark gaze turn to you.

“Is that so?” her fingers curl in your hair and yank your head back. She leans down to kiss you. It’s obvious she tastes your wetness when her tongue dips between your lips and she moans. “Very naughty. You know I’m the only one allowed to taste your cunt.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” you whimper, subconsciously starting to grind on Agatha’s boot again.

“Ah,” Rio pulls your hair so you go up on your knees.

“She’s so desperate,” Agatha observes. “Are you sure you’ve been properly fucking of her?”

“She’s always desperate,” Rio snorts, “Or have you forgotten all the times she’s begged for attention moments after coming?”

“It’s hard to forget,” Agatha murmurs and runs her fingers down your cheek again. “What do you think your punishment should be, pet?”

Your heart pounds. It’s always a trick question.

“Spanking?” you try. It’s not like they have the usual toys readily available. Although there are a lot of trees around, “Or maybe a switch?” since you technically broke one of Rio’s major rules, even though it was with Agatha.

“Always so creative,” Agatha says as she digs her nails into your cheek. That along with her praise and Rio’s tight grip has you humping the air. “Rio?” Agatha asks. A surprise to your hazy mind.

“Sounds fun. I haven’t used one in a long time,” her grip loosen and she runs her nails over the tender spot she’s created. You shiver. “Why don’t you pick one? I’ll even let you have the first round. It has been a while since you’ve had her.”

Round? A heady mix of fear and arousal rushes through you.

“And we both know how much you like to watch,” Agatha counters.

You can’t see Rio’s face but it’s easy to imagine when Agatha quirks her eyebrow.

Agatha turns to find a switch she likes and Rio turns her attention back on you.

“Now,” she says and kneels down behind you, “How do we want you?” Her hands run down your sides.

Ass in the air, most likely. But a rhetorical question is dangerous to answer when you’re in trouble.

Rio unbuttons your pants and slips her hand inside to find you absolutely soaked from your orgasm. She moans against the skin of your neck and runs her fingers through your folds. She seems to lose herself for a moment, lips and teeth running over skin as her fingers begin to circle your clit. A hint of the true effect of watching Agatha’s hold over you.

You try to stay still but her fingers are so light that you can’t help pushing closer. It snaps her out of it and a second later you’re on your back.

“How does on your back sound? So we can see that pretty face cry,” she says as she climbs on top of you. She traces the path your tears will take with a single finger.

“Yes, sir,” you say quietly.

She grins and begins unbuttoning your shirt, one she had picked just for Agatha. She doesn’t bother to take it completely off. Instead, she arranges it to part slightly. Another tease for Agatha.

You must look quite the sight, hair mussed, shirt and your pants undone. Your lips parted and wet.

She looks like she wants to devour you. It’s a miracle she’s letting Agatha ruin you first.

“But where should I sit? I need a good view to enjoy the show,” Rio muses, her hands slipping under the edges of your shirt to lightly run her nails down your sides. Your muscles jump at the feeling which earns a pleased look from her.

“I do so enjoy your face, pet, but I think I’d rather watch the damage our dear Agatha will inflict on that pretty skin of yours.”

She slips off you and then behind. She gently tugs you between her legs and you melt into her like you’ve done a thousand times.

Instead of teasing you like normal, she readjusts the opening of your shirt. She’s definitely missed Agatha if she isn’t sneaking in even a little bit of touch. She hums consideringly in your ear and your pants disappear. Her fingers pull at the waistband of your panties and snaps it against your skin before those disappear too.

Cool air washes against your hot, slick skin and your hips twitch. Rio laughs lowly in your ear.

“She’s really done a number on you, hasn’t she pet?”

You turn your head to try and hide your face in her neck. Just one of them has always been overwhelming. Now that you have them both playing with you again your desperation is no secret.

Footsteps approach and Rio grabs your chin and forces you to look.

You whimper when you see Agatha with more than one stick and try to squirm out of Rio’s grip. Thin toys sting so badly, especially when they’re wood. But the birch rod - a bundle of sticks wrapped tightly together? There’ll be little relief from the pain for a long while yet.

You should’ve stuck with the spanking. You knew it was a trick question, they always add a twist. Why did you choose the harsher option first? Whatever they added to the spanking likely wouldn’t have been so bad. Unless they punished you for thinking you could get off easy.

“Behave,” Rio says warningly, “You know you deserve it.”

You swallow.

Next Chapter

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ethereangel222 · 8 months ago

Text

all yours (part ii)

part i | part iii premise Three friends—Nicholas, Cooper, and the Y/N—find their casual friendship evolving into something deeper as playful competition for attention gives way to mutual attraction. (prequel)

cw no warnings. fluff, fluff and fluff. wc 3.7k a/n part 2 request from @urdreamgirl12! i'm very tempted to write some filthy smut for part iii. ugh, i love these two men sm.

Reblogs are highly appreciated.

PART II

You met Cooper during your second semester, in a philosophy class that felt endless with heavy readings and dense discussions. He sat a couple of seats away from you, friendly but reserved, always polite with a small nod when you arrived. He wasn’t the type to dominate conversations or draw attention to himself, but he was approachable, and something about his calm presence made you want to know him better.

One morning after class, you both ended up walking in the same direction, and that’s when it started. “Is it just me, or does Plato make everything sound five times more complicated than it needs to be?” you joked, glancing over at him.

Cooper smiled, a quiet laugh escaping him. “No, it’s not just you. Sometimes I feel like I understand less the more I read.”

That was it — the first real conversation, but it flowed so naturally that by the time you reached the café, you had fallen into an easy rhythm. You grabbed coffee together, and for the first time, you got to see more of him. He had this dry humor that came out when you least expected it, paired with a thoughtful way of speaking that made you want to listen.

As the weeks went on, meeting after class became a routine. You’d walk together, sometimes study or grab coffee. He wasn’t shy but more of an observer, preferring to listen before diving into a conversation. Cooper had a quiet confidence about him, and his steady presence quickly became something you looked forward to. He didn’t push, didn’t fill the silence unnecessarily, but when he spoke, it was always with intention.

Over time, though, you started noticing something more. The way his hand brushed against yours when you walked, the way his eyes lingered just a moment longer than usual. It wasn’t loud or obvious, but the tension was there, simmering quietly between you. Neither of you said anything about it, but it hung in the air during your coffee breaks and quiet study sessions, growing slowly, waiting for the right moment to be acknowledged.

You met Nicholas at a party, one of those loud, crowded events where you felt out of place. You were standing by the drinks table, considering an early exit, when he appeared next to you with a grin that immediately caught your attention.

“You look like you’re planning your escape,” he said, leaning casually against the counter, his eyes bright with amusement.

You smirked, surprised by how easily he picked up on your mood. “Maybe I am.”

Nicholas chuckled, pouring himself a drink. “Tell you what, stay a little longer. I’ll make sure it’s worth it.”

From that moment, the night changed. Nicholas was magnetic, the kind of guy who drew everyone in with his confidence and energy. He kept you laughing, making the party feel less overwhelming and more fun, but it wasn’t just his charm that grabbed you. There was something more, a tension that simmered just beneath the surface. The way he stood close to you, his arm brushing against yours as he talked, the way his gaze would linger on your lips for a fraction too long.

At one point, he leaned in. “Still thinking about leaving?” he teases.

You felt the warmth of his breath against your skin, and it sent a shiver down your spine. His proximity made it hard to think straight, and for a moment, all you could do was look at him.

“Not anymore,” you replied softly, and Nicholas’ grin widened, satisfied.

As the night wore on, that tension only grew. Nicholas would find reasons to touch you, a hand on your shoulder or a brush of his fingers against your arm, each time lingering just long enough to make your pulse quicken. He wasn’t subtle about his interest, and by the time you left the party, you couldn’t stop thinking about the way he made you feel, that electric pull between you, always on the verge of something more.

After that night, Nicholas started popping up in your life more often. He’d text you out of the blue, always with that same playful, flirty energy, and every time you hung out, the tension was there, hanging between you, building with every lingering touch and every teasing remark. It was undeniable, and you both knew it was only a matter of time before one of you acted on it.

The first time Nicholas and Cooper met wasn’t exactly planned. You were in the middle of one of your usual study sessions with Cooper at the campus library. It was the kind of comfortable, quiet work you’d come to expect with him, both of you buried in your notes, exchanging a few words now and then.

Then you received a text from Nicholas. Outside. Coming in.

Before you could even respond, Nicholas appeared, striding through the library. He caught your eye and grinned, waving. “Hey! Thought I’d find you here.”

You smiled, a little surprised, and glanced at Cooper, who looked up from his book, brow furrowing slightly as Nicholas dropped into the chair across from you. “How’s the study session going?”

“It’s going well,” you replied, a little unsure. “We’ve still got a lot to cover.”

Nicholas raised an eyebrow at the stack of books, his face scrunching in mock horror. “Philosophy, huh? You guys need a break. How about I grab us some food? I saw a food truck outside.”

Cooper glanced up from his notes, his response calm but firm. “We’re kind of in the middle of things. Maybe later.”

There was a brief silence. Nicholas, not one to be brushed off easily, looked between you and Cooper, clearly not used to being put on hold. He leaned back in his chair, a playful smirk on his face, but you could sense something else behind it. “Ah, I see. Important stuff.”

Cooper didn’t rise to the bait, simply nodding and returning to his notes. But the tension wasn’t lost on you. Nicholas wasn’t used to being sidelined, and Cooper had this quiet confidence that made it clear he wasn’t going to be swayed by Nicholas’ usual charm.

But Nicholas, in his typical style, didn’t let it go. “Tell you what,” he said, standing up, “I’ll grab the food and bring it back. No distractions, I promise. Just sustenance. You keep doing your thing.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Nicholas flashed a wink and walked off, leaving you and Cooper in a moment of quiet. You looked over at Cooper, a little apologetic. “I didn’t think he was coming.”

Cooper smiled, a hint of amusement softening his features. “It’s fine. He seems... alright.”

When Nicholas came back, he laid out the food with a grin, true to his word about keeping things low-key. “Alright, food’s here. No distractions,” he said, though his tone carried the usual playful edge.

Cooper gave him a polite nod, accepting the food, though you noticed the dynamic was a bit different now. Nicholas didn’t press as hard this time. He didn’t dominate the conversation like he usually did. Instead, he leaned back, eating his food quietly, stealing occasional glances at Cooper, who seemed focused on his work but not entirely indifferent to Nicholas’ presence.

There was a shift, small but there. Nicholas vseemed to be sizing Cooper up but not in a competitive way anymore. More like he was curious. He was beginning to see that Cooper wasn’t just some guy who kept to himself. He was steady, thoughtful, and sure of himself in a way that Nicholas wasn’t used to. It seemed like Nicholas was… warming up to him.

As the three of you sat there, the tension seemed to ease. Nicholas leaned forward, making a casual comment about the food, and for the first time, Cooper cracked a small smile in response. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for Nicholas to lean back, satisfied, a flicker of something like respect in his eyes.

And for the first time, you thought maybe Cooper was starting to grow on him.

It started innocently enough. You, Nicholas, and Cooper would occasionally run into each other between classes or grab coffee after a long day. At first, it was casual — just friends with overlapping schedules and shared interests. But somewhere along the way, the three of you fell into an unspoken rhythm, a routine that pulled you together more frequently, more naturally. What began as study sessions and movie nights turned into something else, though none of you would admit it just yet.

At first, it was Nicholas who was most obvious about vying for your attention. He’d flash that easy grin, leaning in just a little too close whenever he talked, as though he couldn’t resist testing the boundaries between friendship and something more. He was the type to drape his arm casually over your shoulders, always finding some excuse to be close, his presence hard to ignore.

"Don’t look so serious," he’d tease whenever he caught you focusing too hard during study sessions. "You’re gonna scare off all your brain cells."

You’d roll your eyes, but the warmth of his teasing made you smile every time. And you weren’t the only one who noticed. Cooper, who was more laid-back and less showy, started to subtly mirror Nicholas’ actions, not as overtly, but in his own way. He’d lean forward during conversations, his gaze lingering on you, his voice soft and steady when he spoke. His touches were fewer, but each one was deliberate. If Nicholas was the one to throw playful jabs, Cooper was the one whose quiet support always felt reassuring.

You started to notice it more during your meet-ups: the way they seemed to compete for your attention. Nicholas was always quick to crack a joke, to make you laugh, while Cooper played the calm counterbalance, offering a deeper, more thoughtful presence. If Nicholas made a playful comment, Cooper would find a way to steer the conversation back to something meaningful, as if they were both trying to prove who could hold your interest more.

At first, it felt like a game, like they were challenging each other for who could make you smile, who could capture your focus. There were subtle moments when Nicholas would lean in closer, resting his hand on your knee while Cooper’s eyes followed the movement, his jaw tightening slightly before he’d distract you with a clever remark. If you were caught between them, they seemed equally caught in the tug-of-war over who could win your attention first.

But then, something shifted.

It happened slowly, almost without you noticing. Nicholas and Cooper still vied for your attention, but there were moments when their competitiveness gave way to something more playful between them. You’d catch them exchanging glances when they thought you weren’t looking, a shared look of amusement when one of them made you laugh.

One evening, the three of you were sitting at the campus café after a long day of classes. Nicholas had shown up as usual, sliding into the booth next to you and draping his arm casually over the back of your seat. He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered something teasing about the way you held your coffee.

"You’re gripping that cup like it’s about to run away," he murmured, smirking. "Relax a little."

Before you could respond, Cooper arrived, sliding into the seat across from you. He raised an eyebrow at Nicholas’ proximity, but instead of making a comment to you, he glanced at Nicholas. "You know, if you leaned in any closer, people might think you two are dating.”

Nicholas didn’t miss a beat. He leaned back slightly, shooting Cooper a playful look. "What, jealous?"

Cooper smirked, his eyes meeting Nicholas’ in a way that felt different from their usual banter. "Maybe."

It was subtle, the way the tension between them shifted in that moment. What used to feel like a competition for your attention started to feel like they were both enjoying the game, not just with you, but with each other.

Later, back at Nicholas’ apartment for one of your usual movie nights, the energy felt different. You were sandwiched between them on the couch, Nicholas on one side, his arm draped over your shoulders as usual, and Cooper on the other, his knee pressing lightly against yours. The playful banter between them continued, but now, there were small moments where they’d brush against each other, not entirely by accident.

Nicholas would reach over you to grab a drink from the coffee table, letting his arm graze Cooper’s shoulder in the process. Cooper, instead of pulling away, would give Nicholas a slight nudge back, the touch lingering for just a moment before he returned his focus to you. It was subtle, but the shift in their dynamic was unmistakable — they were no longer just competing for your attention. They were starting to acknowledge each other, too.

"You two always this competitive?" you asked, half-joking but genuinely curious as their banter intensified. It was hard to miss the way Nicholas had leaned closer to Cooper over the course of the night, his usual teasing now directed toward both of you.

Nicholas grinned. "Who says we’re competing?"

Cooper chuckled, his gaze flicking to Nicholas briefly before settling back on you. "Yeah, I think we’re just… focused."

You smirked, feeling the tension between them and the way it pulled you right into the center. "Focused on what, exactly?"

Nicholas’ hand brushed lightly against your arm, but then, just as quickly, it slid down, his fingers brushing against Cooper’s shoulder before pulling away. The touch was light, playful, but enough to send a charge through the air. "On making sure you don’t get bored, obviously."

Cooper’s knee nudged yours under the blanket. "We wouldn’t want that."

You could feel the heat rising between the three of you, the subtle flirting no longer so subtle. Their casual touches now lingered longer, their glances shared not just with you, but with each other. Nicholas would throw a teasing comment your way, but his eyes would flick to Cooper afterward, almost daring him to respond. And Cooper, no longer holding back, would meet Nicholas’ gaze head-on, a knowing smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

As the night went on, the dynamics between the three of you shifted even further. Nicholas and Cooper still vied for your attention, but now, there was a clear acknowledgment of the tension between them as well. The casual touches between them grew more frequent, their shared looks more deliberate. It was no longer just a competition for you — it was a slow, teasing flirtation between them, too.

You were still caught in the middle, but now it felt like you weren’t the only one they were trying to win over. They had started to notice each other, and with every touch, every lingering glance, it became clearer: the three of you were connected in a way none of you had fully realized before.

It was bound to come to a head eventually. You, Nicholas, and Cooper had been dancing around each other for weeks, the tension between the three of you growing more obvious with every lingering glance, every touch that stayed just a little too long. But no one had said anything. It was as if you were all waiting for the right moment — or maybe for someone else to break the silence first.

That moment came at a house party, one of those weekend gatherings where the music was too loud, and the rooms were crowded with people looking for an excuse to let loose. You had arrived together, as usual, slipping into the familiar pattern of moving through the party as a trio, but tonight was different. There was a lightness in the air, a sense of release that came with letting go after a long week. People were packed into every area of the house, the thump of music vibrating through the floor, the smell of beer and laughter filling the space.

You started the night casually enough, playing beer pong with a few others in the kitchen. where the competition quickly ramped up. Nicholas, predictably, was cocky as ever, making a show of his "perfect aim."

"Watch this," he said with a wink, aiming the ping-pong ball at the last cup. He missed completely, and the ball bounced off the counter, rolling under the table.

You burst out laughing, your head swimming with the alcohol and the absurdity of the night. "Perfect aim, huh?"

Nicholas shrugged, unbothered. "It’s all part of the strategy. Keep the competition guessing."

Cooper chuckled, shaking his head. "If that’s your strategy, it’s a terrible one."

The banter flowed easily between the three of you, as it always did, but tonight there was an extra layer of warmth, the kind that came from the alcohol already making its way into your system. Your head felt a little lighter, your movements a little slower, as the drinks started to settle in. Nicholas had been handing you drinks all night, always making sure your cup was full, and Cooper had been quietly keeping pace, his eyes flicking between you and Nicholas.

After a few rounds of beer games, you were feeling the full effects of the drinks. Your body was warm, your cheeks flushed, and everything seemed funnier, lighter. The three of you were leaning against each other, laughing at nothing in particular, your head resting against Nicholas’ shoulder as Cooper stood close by, his arm brushing against yours every so often.

It wasn’t long before you needed a break from the noise, the heat of the house starting to feel overwhelming. You slipped away from the crowd, wandering through the hallway until you found a quiet, secluded corner near the back of the house. The music was still loud, but it was muffled here, the chaos of the party fading into the background as you leaned against the wall, closing your eyes for a moment.

You hadn’t been there long when you felt someone approaching. You opened your eyes to see Nicholas standing in front of you, a lazy grin on his face as he leaned one hand against the wall next to you. "Escaping already?"

Before you could answer, Cooper appeared on your other side, his presence quieter but just as steady. His gaze was soft, but there was a heat behind his eyes that made your heart skip a beat. "You didn’t think we’d let you disappear on us, did you?"

You smiled, feeling a sudden rush of warmth at the sight of both of them, standing so close, their attention entirely focused on you. "Just needed a breather."

Nicholas chuckled, his fingers brushing lightly against your arm as he leaned in closer, his voice low. "You sure you weren’t trying to ditch us?"

The way his breath tickled your skin sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn’t help but glance at Cooper, who was watching you closely. His hand found your waist, his touch gentle but deliberate, "We’ve been following you all night, you know."

Your heart thudded in your chest, the alcohol blurring the lines of everything but the tension that crackled between the three of you. It felt like the air had shifted, like this small corner of the house had become its own world — one where the only thing that mattered was what happened next.

Nicholas’ fingers slid up your arm, his touch light and teasing as he leaned in even closer. "So… what now?"

Cooper’s hand tightened slightly on your waist, his body heat pressing against you from the other side as he waited for your answer. The room felt like it was spinning, not from the alcohol, but from the way their presence wrapped around you, pulling you into a moment you knew had been building for weeks.

"I think… I think we need to talk about this. About us."

Nicholas’ eyes gleamed with a mixture of playfulness and something deeper. His hand lingered on your arm as he glanced over at Cooper. "Yeah, I think it’s about time we do."

Cooper’s fingers brushed softly against your side, his gaze steady but serious. "We’ve been dancing around this for a while, haven’t we?"

You nodded, feeling both of their attention on you, making your pulse race. "It feels like… more than just friendship. With both of you. And I know you’ve felt it too."

Nicholas chuckled softly, his hand slipping to the small of your back as he pulled you just a little closer. "Oh, we’ve felt it. We’ve definitely felt it."

Cooper’s hand tightened on your waist, his tone calm but clear. "But we need to be sure. We need to be on the same page."

You exhaled a shaky breath, glancing between them. "I don’t know exactly what this is yet, but… I want to figure it out. With both of you."

Nicholas’ grin softened, his thumb brushing against the small of your back. "Good. Because I’m all in."

Cooper’s hand slid from your waist to your hand, fingers intertwining with yours. "Me too," he said quietly, his eyes locking with yours, then flicking to Nicholas. "We’re in this together."

Nicholas’ hand slipped up to your jaw, gently turning your face toward his. The grin that was usually playful now softened, his eyes intense as they searched yours. Without another word, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was slow, deliberate, and filled with everything that had gone unsaid between the three of you.

The kiss sent a wave of heat through your body, and for a moment, it was just you and Nicholas, the weight of his hand on your back, the warmth of his lips pulling you deeper into the moment.

When he pulled away, your breath caught, and before you could process the rush of emotions, you felt Cooper’s hand gently guiding your face toward him. His kiss was different — softer, more tentative, but no less charged. His lips moved against yours with a quiet intensity, as if he had been holding back for too long and now couldn’t stop himself.

The contrast between them was intoxicating, Nicholas’ fiery energy and Cooper’s gentle steadiness blending together, both of them focused entirely on you. When Cooper pulled back, his forehead rested gently against yours, his breath warm against your skin.

"So," Nicholas murmured, his voice low and teasing, "are we done pretending now?"

You smiled, breathless and caught between them, feeling like the missing pieces had finally clicked into place. "Yeah," you whispered, your heart pounding. "No more pretending."

#cooper koch #nicholas alexander chavez #cooper koch fanfic #nicholas alexander chavez imagine #nicholas alexander chavez x reader #cooper koch x reader #cooper koch imagine #nicholas chavez #writing

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