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call-me-strega · 8 months

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Dc x Dp prompt #13: Hell to Pay

They say there are only two things certain in life: death and taxes. That’s why even the Joker doesn’t fuck with the IRS.

However, unfortunately for the Joker the other certainty is death and he has yet to pay his dues. Just like how he could only get away with tax evasion for so long, there are only so many times the Joker can dodge death.

Death is coming to collect, with interest.

And the Joker will have hell to pay.

~ A dark green cloud swirls over the city. From it, emerge three oppressive figures:

The one on the far left with flowing hair like white-hot fire. His vambraces made of (what appeared to be) molten glass stopped under his fingers, which then extend into into claws that seemed to drip lava. He had spiked obsidian pauldrons on his shoulders, fastening a luminous, stark-white cape to his shoulders. He wore a coronet of lightning and wielded a flail that appeared to be made of coal chains and a shrunken Red Giant star.

The second on the far right had a helm of dark iron wreathed in a plume of purple flame. His gauntlets and sword flamed with green hellfire. A pure black sheath seemingly made of void and a silver hunting horn were tied to his waist. He wore an armor forged of shadows and proofed with fear. He rode atop a mighty stead. An inky dark stallion with a curved horn and bat-like wings. His form was constantly slightly shifting depending on the angle which you viewed him making him appear larger and more slippery than he was, enhancing his disquieting nature.

The third stood in the middle, smaller but no less terrifying than her companions. Her hair was wild with movement, only just visible because it appeared as if someone had bound the winds to her head. She wore a tiara made of storm clouds and pearls. She carried with her a spear, the shaft crafted of amazonite and the tip of a clear quartz, almost reminiscent of sea salt. At her hip lay a whip made of a restrained gale and a sea glass knife. She wore armor that appeared to be Greco-Roman in origin: a chest plate made of some sort of coral-like material and a battle skirt decorated with metallic bronze feathers.

They slowly descent on the city, bringing down a sense of power and dread. They paused at the top of Wayne Tower, where the city's vigilantes had all gathered in an attempt to create and feasible plan of action to discern what these beings want. The young woman in the middle speaks and the wind carries her voice. She is not loud but it the whole of Gotham hears her words.

"Greetings, Heroes of Gotham. It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Spirit, Princess and Head Diplomat of the Infinite Realms. This is Samhain, the Fright Knight, loyal knight to the king,” she gestured to her right before switching to her left “and this is Prince Wraith, current General in Chief of the Realms. We come to you as the King’s Guard and entourage. We have official business in your city and wish to civilly notify you of our presence. The King will be arriving shortly and your cooperation would be great fully received.”

Batman moved forward to shake her hand and address the situation.

“I’m afraid that we prefer not to have unknowns operating within the city. Would you be able to tell us what business you have here? Perhaps we could reach an agreement?” Batman tried to negotiate as politely as he could. He did not want to risk offending the evidently powerful beings.

Princess Spirit’s smile sharpened as she thrummed her finger against her knife. She spoke again with an unnervingly pleasant tone.

“It appears you do not understand. We are not asking for your permission.” Her grip around his hand tightened. “ We are informing you.” She finished releasing his hand.

Batman withdrew his aching hand and regarded her with the beginnings of a protest on his lips. She didn’t allow him to speak.

“ This is out of your jurisdiction Batman. This is a matter of the Realms and the Afterlife. Whatever worldly rules or morals you wish to impose on those who enter this city do not apply to us. We will do our best to work within them, so as to appease you and to attempt to maintain a friendly relationship but in the macrocosm of the multiverse and afterlives you have no official power over us. Additionally, we have direct permission to operate here however we see fit from the City Spirit herself, Lady Gotham.”

Batman’s shadow seemed to fluctuated. His and his team's shadows moved from beneath them, closer to the Princess. Lady Gotham, though not manifesting, was making her presence and approval known. Batman could not deny what he was seeing. His team shifted uncomfortably behind him. He appealed to her once more.

“ I see that we can’t stop you. We don’t want to get in your way either. Could you at least tell us why you are here?”

She smiled as if telling a joke, “All will be revealed in time”

Suddenly, there was a loud noise that sounded like tearing fabric. The green clouds mixed with purples and blues and began to churn faster. The cyclone emitted a flashes of bright light. In unison all three of the King’s Guard lifted up from the roof and took place underneath the eye of the wind storm.

Spirit holds her spear aloft. With one swift, commanding move she slams the butt of her spear down, creating a platform out of solidified air.

Wraith bellows out smoke and ash onto the platform to discolor it. With ferocious and precise movements his claws to carve in a sigil, leaving a soft orange glow against the black and gray.

Samhain sheathes his sword and pulls his horn from his waist. He wills his dark stead to rear up as he blows the horn, letting out one loud prolonged cry.

The three warriors stand at attention and Princess Spirit calls the winds to project her voice once more.

“ Now introducing the Ruler of the Infinite Realms, High King of the In-Between, The Great One, The Benevolent King, The Peace Maker, The Guardian of Souls, The One with the Cloak of Stars and the Crown of Frozen Light, The Perfect Balance, Ancient of Space and Reality, The Infinite King: Phantom!”

With a flash of white light a figure appear in the center of the platform. Simultaneously, the three knights bow in reverence.

The King has arrived.

As the Heroes of Gotham regain clear vision they are met with a striking figure.

There stood a toned young man appearing both boyishly young, yet wisened and weathered. He had side swept hair the creeped to the bottom of his neck. His skin was pale with an icy blue tint. He opened his eyes to reveal they shone an electric green. Upon his head rest a crown made of a crystalline material, reminiscent of an aurora. He wore a navy blue cloak that had a rich purple hood lined with stark white fur. The underside displayed a shifting galaxy pattern. His under suit was the same midnight black as Samhain’s. He donned golden arm bands and a gold chest plate in style quite similar to Spirit’s. His hand were covered in snow white gauntlets that matched Wraith’s vambraces.

They all stood in awe, beholden to the almost divine figure.

The king sent them a gentle smile. It was warm and comforting yet sent a chill down their shoulders.

King Phantom began to fly down toward the center of the city, his entourage fell into step behind him. He hovered several hundred feet over Wayne tower and looked down at the city. He then spoke in a booming voice, his tone kind but commanding.

“ I humbly greet the Lady Gotham, her champions, and her citizens,” the shadows curled toward him appreciatively. “ I am grateful for your cooperation in our effort to rectify a great injustice. As High King of the Infinite Realms it is one of my duties to preside over the afterlife. To bring guidance, peace, and justice to the souls under my jurisdiction. Recently, it has been brought to my attention that there is a soul among you who has not only dodged death, but caused great strife to a vast number of souls who call for justice.”

On the roof of Wayne Enterprises Jason and Damian both stiffen, but remain firm in their gaze toward the king. The king looks out at the city and sparing them the quickest of glances. He continues onward.

“ The man formerly know as Jack Napier, now called The Joker. He has avoided death on many an occasion but his life should have ended moment he fell into a vat of chemicals. Since then he has sent hundreds more to the afterlife. He has long yet to pay his dues. That is why on the behalf of justice, restoring balance, and of my subjects I officially condemn Jack Napier.”

“Jack Napier, you have been allowed 24 hours turn yourself into our custody in order to be put on trial for your crimes in the Infinite Realms. Should you fail to turn youself in, we shall take that as an admission of guilt and acceptance to be punished for your actions. After the 24 hours are up, Samhain shall use his horn to summon The Hunt and we shall track you down.”

His gaze passed specifically over Red Hood, one of the Oracle’s drones, Nightwing, Signal, Red Robin, and Batman before he spoke his next words.

“All those souls who have been wronged by the Joker, both living and deceased, who wish to have a hand in their justice have been invited to join The Hunt if they so choose.”

The king lifted his hand, calling the swirling green clouds to his gather in his palm. The clouds swiftly rearranged themselves into a smokey timer hanging in the sky.

An impish smirk graced King Phantom’s face as he let out a malicious laugh and gave his final decree.

“ Your time begins now!”

#dc x dp #long post #danny fenton #danny phantom #ghost king danny #dani phantom #dan phantom #fright knight #jason todd #the joker #totally legal manhunt for the joker proclaimed by the king of the afterlife #The joker must pay his dues #Bruce fucking hates the joker he’s not gonna try to stop this #Strega’s dc x dp prompt

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verstappen-cult · 6 months

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I have a request for max!

Reader is a strategist for Mercedes. Max and her, they got married in secret and have a 2 year old daughter together.

I know this is not much to work with but you do you!

(I love your fics <3)

hi bestie! i left the mercedes’ strategist plot out of this, but i hope you still like it! btw this was gonna be really short and ended up being this other thing. <333

You look out the car window and then to your daughter playing with her favorite plushie next to you. She doesn’t know that you’re about to be the topic of conversation for the next week — month even. She only knows that there are gonna be a lot of people trying to take pictures of you both, and that you’re gonna see Dad’s friends too.

“Hey, baby.” You whisper, brushing a strand of blonde hair out of her face. “You’re ready to see Daddy?” She smiles at the mention of her favorite person in the whole world, forgetting all about her toy.

“Where are we?” She asks, looking out the window.

You lift her up onto your lap, placing a kiss on her temple. “We’re gonna watch papa just like we do from home every Sunday.”

“We have fun watching papa.”

“Yes, so,” You take your bag and her plushie before taking a deep breath. “let’s go and have some fun, then.”

It’s no secret to anyone that you and Max have been dating for quite a few years now. You used to be more public about your relationship, but then you got pregnant and Max decided that it was best if you kept things a little more private, and you were more than happy to do it until you started to miss going to the races and seeing him more often.

Max was a bit reluctant at first, but after some — a lot — of convincing he accepted. The two of you agreed to put some boundaries and to take things slowly. The first step was going to the Monaco Grand Prix, so, you wouldn’t have to travel and he could be home by the end of the day with his favorite girls. And, if things become too much, you can just go home.

The moment you set foot on the paddock, you know there is no going back. You feel nervous and like your whole body is on fire, but when you look at your daughter’s smile as you hold her in your arms, you forget about everything.

“Mama, look! Papa!” She points to the giant banner to your left. And there he is, alongside a few of the other drivers.

“Oi!” Dani calls from a few meters away. You wish he would not have done it because it draws attention you really didn’t want.

“Uncle Dani!”

You see the exact moment people recognize you, reporters starting to make their way to you at the same time you hurry to Dani’s side. He has a big, bright smile on his face, he’s always smiling but you think he’s genuinely happy to see you and your daughter.

“Hi, Dani.” The Aussie wraps an arm around your shoulder and kisses your cheek as a greeting.

“Hey, angel.” Your daughter makes grabby hands at Dani and, obviously, he immediately takes her in his arms. “Did you miss uncle Dani?” She nods, wrapping her tiny arms around his neck.

“Have you seen Max?” You ask him, but he shakes his head, too busy paying attention to whatever your daughter is telling him in the ear.

You don’t feel comfortable. It’s been so long since you’ve been in the paddock that now feels like you’re attending your first race for the very first time. You were nervous then, you are terrified now as you see reporters approaching, calling your name and asking about your daughter. It’s not that they don’t know you and Max have a daughter, you and Max have been pretty open about her but always leaving her face out of the family photos you share on social media. However, this is news to everyone. This is a headline. And you know they’re just doing their job.

“Let’s go find him, okay?”

You barely hear him, trying to politely tell the reporter by your left that you will not give any interview and to stop asking about your daughter. Daniel has to give you a little pat on the back to make you walk, sending death glares to the people surrounding you in the process.

There are phones and video cameras following you along the paddock, and you think you should’ve accepted Max’s offer of waiting for you at the entrance. But you didn’t want to be a burden. You were pretty confident about handling things by yourself but now… not so much.

“Hey, are you okay? You’re a little pale.” Dani’s voice is soothing. You’re glad he’s carrying your daughter because you don’t feel strong enough to do it. Someone behind you — one of the many, many people following you — pushes you, making you bump into another person by your side. “Watch out! There’s a baby here!”

Daniel is mad and doesn’t hesitate in wrapping an arm around your waist, guiding you inside the nearest place that turns out to be the McLaren hospitality.

“I’m gonna call Max, alright?”

“What’s happening outside? Oh, you’re here!”

“Uncle Lando!” Your daughter’s voice is what finally pulls you out of your head.

You walk to Dani, taking her in your arms. “Did you miss Uncle Lando too?”

“Is something wrong?” Lando asks again, bopping the little girl on the nose.

“So many people,” You breathe out, closing your eyes for a second. “I didn’t think it was going to be this way, really.”

“Well, it’s a big deal that you’re here. Both of you.” Lando looks outside, reporters and cameras ready to catch a glimpse for when you have to leave. “Do they know? The media, I mean, about…” He looks to your hand, right where your wedding ring is.

You groan, hiding your face in your daughter’s neck, making her giggle. “No, but I’m sure it will be worse when they notice.”

There’s a huge commotion outside that draws your attention. When you look, you find Max trying to make his way through the mass of people. Seeing him makes you relax immediately, but then he’s pushing a man when this shoves a microphone in his face and you don’t feel so relaxed anymore.

“Shit, shit” Daniel is quick to open the doors and go outside, a few members of McLaren following him. “Can you hold her, please?”

Your daughter goes willingly with Lando as you run outside. Daniel stands between the reporter and Max, his hand on your husband’s chest trying to stop him from jumping over him to get to the man.

There’s a bigger commotion when they see you, everyone shouting your name and asking questions that you don’t pay attention to, but it’s enough to make Max forget about fighting the reporter.

Max runs to you, hands cupping your face. “Hey, baby. Are you okay? Something happened?”

“I’m okay. Just—let’s go inside, please.”

Max doesn’t hesitate. He grabs your hand tightly, not caring about being seen going inside McLaren hospitality, not when you and his daughter are there needing him.

“Papa!”

Your husband’s face lights up, that pretty smile you love so much making its way onto his face. "Mijn mooie meisje.” The tension on his face goes away the moment he takes her in his arms.

“You wanna go home?” Lando asks you, handing you a glass of water.

“Yes, you’re going home.” Max answers for you, hugging his daughter tightly against his chest.

“We are not. We knew this would happen, well, not at this scale but,” You shrug, taking a sip of water. “I don’t wanna go. We should’ve planned this better.”

“Yeah, you should have.” Daniel jokes, but when no one laughs he just stands there awkwardly. “Look, she’s already here. You’re not gonna send her home, are you?”

Lando bites his lip before saying, “You won’t be able to hide forever.”

“I know!” Max sighs, putting down his daughter on one of the sofas. “Why don’t you play while I talk with your uncles for a bit?” Unaware of everything, she just takes her plushie and waits for you to be finished. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable or feel unsafe.”

“We’re safe here. Everyone will take care of us, I know that.” You take his hand, thumb caressing the back of it. “It was just the shock of experiencing all of this again. It reminded me of the first time I attended a race.” You say, shyly.

“Oh, I remember that.” He has that special glint in his eyes that tells you that he remembers every little detail of that day.

“Uh, gross.” Lando pretends to throw up, earning a playful push from Daniel.

“You sure you’re gonna be okay?”

“Yes, love. Besides, how are you gonna tell her she won’t be watching papa race?” You look at your little baby, talking with her plushie and showing the toy around. “I don’t know which one of us is more excited.”

“You know it’s only a matter of time before they notice this?” Max takes your hand to his lips, kissing your wedding ring.

“I want them to know.”

“Oh, thank God!” He exclaims, peppering kisses all over your face. “I hate not wearing my ring on race weekends.”

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#f1 x reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fluff #f1 imagine #f1 grid x reader

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innerfare · 22 days

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Sex Toys - Part 2

Summary: What are their opinions on and how do they use sex toys? Mostly just them using vibrators on afab!reader, mentions of a few other toys.

Characters: Shanks, Beckman, Crocodile, Mihawk, Smoker, Doflamingo, Corazon, Marco

Genre: pure smut

CW: NSFW // lots of toys

——��

Shanks: Kinkiest man alive, more than willing to incorporate any number of vibrators, plugs, and cock rings into your routine, but he likes to do his own dirty work and get you off with his mouth. Despite being more of a titties man, prefers butt plugs to nipple clamps, but uses them sparingly. Only on the nights when daddy dom Shanks comes out to play do you end up on all fours with both holes full and his calloused hand around your throat.

Beckman: Keeps a vibrator in his desk drawer to use on you when he’s working late and you come looking for him. He keeps another on the nightstand because it’s a really good way to loosen you up and prepare you to take his cock (big dick Beckman is basically cannon). He doesn’t really use it on you while he's inside you, though, because you end up clenching much harder on his cock and it makes you so sore (downside of big dick Beckman).

Crocodile: Has made you sit in his lap with a vibrator against your clit more times than either of you can count. When he’s finally finished working, he’ll put the vibrator away and bend you over his desk. Has a habit of binding your hands to the headboard and leaving you with a vibrator between your legs for as long as it takes him to sit back and smoke a cigar at his leisure.

Mihawk: Definitely has a pair of fur handcuffs hidden somewhere beneath his bed (and Shanks has definitely used these handcuffs on him). It’s a tossup as far as who ends up in them- sometimes it’s you, sometimes it’s him. Prefers a whip to a paddle, likes to use it and have it used on him. More than happy to use a vibrator on your clit, but he’s not going to take it upon himself. You’re going to have to ask him, and you’re going to have to do so very politely.

Doflamingo: The sort of man to have a sex dungeon. In lieu of that, he’ll at least have a chest full of toys that he takes great pleasure in using, things you’ve never even seen before this man is torturing you with them. He typically ties you up with his devil fruit power before digging through the chest for something fun to torment you with, teases you mercilessly. Definitely has bougie cock rings, the kind that cost a small fortune.

Corazon: Such a sweetheart. When he finds your vibrator on your bedside table, he can’t help but tease you about it, not because he wants to make fun of you but because he can’t think of a better way to bring it up in conversation. He’s so curious about it, he just can’t help himself. That curiosity leads him to ask more and more questions, until finally, you’re on your bed holding it between your legs so he can watch, eventually allowing him to take over while he fucks you. Overstimulation > teasing, as far as Cora is concerned.

Smoker: This man is gone a lot. Even if you’re in the Navy and in the same unit that he is, he has a habit of going off on his own. Thus, you have to be able to get yourself off, which he understands. He’s chivalrous, too, so he didn’t make you pay for your own toys. You have a nice collection of vibrators and dildos to get yourself off with, though he doesn’t really like using that stuff on you himself. He might do it when he’s feeling extra kinky, but he really prefers it to just be the two of you.

Marco: Almost clinical in the way he goes about it. He noticed very early on in your relationship that orgasms help relieve your stress/anxiety levels, so if he doesn’t have very much time to devote to you, he makes sure to whip out a vibrator and get you off with it. He doesn’t typically use it during sex, but he will let you hold it to your clit while you suck him off. Also has a habit of falling into bed drunk and pressing a vibrator to your clit just for fun.

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

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moonstruckme · 9 months

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Whimsical!reader x Shy!remus 🤭🤭🤭 like the boys always try and get Remus to go out with them and he always tries to say no but James promises that Lily has a friend Remus might get along with and Remus is just so entranced by Whimsical!reader that he starts to come out of his shell and James is all 😏 “If I would’ve known it would end up like this I would’ve had you bring her around sooner, Evans”

Thanks for requesting my love!

Remus Lupin x whimsical!reader ♡ 933 words

“You can’t go home before ten,” Sirius insists, stepping through the front door as James chats with the party’s host, some co-worker of Lily’s.

“I can go home whenever I want,” Remus says gruffly.

“Give us an hour at least,” James negotiates as he breaks away from his conversation. He takes the lead of their little group automatically, navigating them through the house to the patio out back. “Lily’s friend is really sweet, I think you’ll like—hi!” His face splits open as he catches sight of his girlfriend, waving.

He hurries over for a kiss. “I’ve missed you, sweetheart.”

“I saw you this morning,” Lily reminds him, smiling against his lips.

“Too long a period of separation. Terrible.”

Despite the fact that they’re really being very tame, Sirius groans loudly.

“You live together,” he complains, “don’t you think you could do this another time?”

Lily rolls her eyes at him, but James straightens, recalling his primary aim of the evening.

“Right, this is Y/N,” he gestures to you, sitting with your feet tucked underneath you on the couch. He supposes you’ve found somewhere to stow your shoes away for the evening. “Y/N, this is Sirius” --Sirius shoots you one of his roguish half-grins. It slips a bit when you smile and nod politely, seemingly unaffected-- “and Remus.”

Remus raises his hand in a little wave, but it does nothing to dim the lustrous smile you send him. James nudges his friend your way, going to sit with Lily and leaving Sirius to go in search of drinks.

Lily’s done her job well. She’s chosen a quiet spot, tucked away at the fringes of the party, where you can enjoy the music without having to shout over it. James watches furtively as you take to Remus instantly, asking a steady stream of questions in your quiet, serene voice. Remus seems a bit tense, as if wary of some unknown form of verbal attack, but James is assured that he’ll relax soon. That tends to be your effect.

You’re an odd bird, but mellow in a way James suspects will appeal to his reticent friend. Over the years, he’s found that Remus doesn’t need to be pulled from his shell so much as he needs people to crawl in there with him. You seem like you’d be exactly the right fit.

“Neither of you are subtle,” Sirius says, returning with drinks for the three of them. “They’re going to scare if you keep staring at them like that.”

“Shit.” Lily turns quickly, accepting her drink and fixing her attention deliberately on Sirius. “Do you think they’ve noticed?”

“No,” James says. He has to hide a smile in his drink as you take one of Remus’ hands in both of your own. Remus’ face has turned stop-sign red, but you’re oblivious, running your fingers over his palm with tender care. “I think they’re too caught up in each other to pay us much mind.”

“What the hell are they doing?” Sirius leans against the back of the chair Lily and James are sharing.

Lily is visibly restraining herself from turning around to see what he’s talking about. James laughs, dipping his head to kiss her freckled shoulder.

“I think it’s a palm reading.”

“Oh, she’s freaky good at that,” Lily says. “I mean, I don’t want to believe in it and I don’t think I do, but she hasn’t been wrong yet.”

James raises his eyebrows at her. “That’s a lot, coming from you.”

His girlfriend scowls, sipping her drink. “I don’t like it.”

“I can’t believe Moony’s blushing just from her holding his hand like that,” Sirius marvels. He shakes his head, astounded. “This has got to be the most prudish flirting I’ve ever seen.”

“I’m not even sure she’s trying to flirt with him,” James admits. “I think this is just the way she is.”

Sirius scoffs. “Whatever it is, it’s working. Look at his mouth.”

James does. “Oh, shit.”

“What?” Lily evidently can’t stand it any longer. She turns around, but frowns when she sees nothing. “What is it?”

“He’s got his tongue tucked into the corner of his mouth,” James explains, leaning over to align her vision with his. “See that little bump? That’s his tell. He’s trying not to smile.” He sits back, smug. “He likes her.”

The more James watches, the more obvious it becomes. The faint flush that’s spread across Remus’ freckles, never really going away. The way he holds eye contact with you unfailingly, when ordinarily he’d be dropping his gaze. The tongue-tuck, which slips up occasionally as a bashful grin lifts the corners of his mouth.

James doesn’t know you as well as Lily does, but he thinks you must like Remus too, from the way you keep talking to him without ever looking for your friend to come rescue you. Soon the conversation seems to have found its rhythm, with Remus contributing as much as you do. He starts teasing you, a familiar hand on your knee or a quirked eyebrow at something you say, and you eat it up. Your laughter tinkles like windchimes, floating over the party even after he, Lily, and Sirius have stopped paying attention.

You move closer together over the course of the night. James’ one-hour stipulation passes, then another. Eventually, Lily is ready to go home and Remus hasn’t brought it up once. Probably distracted by the whisper of air separating his nose from yours.

James whistles softly. “Evans, if I’d known this would go so easily I wouldn’t have you bring her around a long time ago.”

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euaphora · 11 months

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✎ᝰpart two

colleague!kento who hates having to wake up every morning to deal with irritating people from his work, everything seemed to piss him off or made him upset. nobody would invite him out for drinks except you.

colleague!kento who was slightly surprised when you came up to him before the evening ended, he was pretty nervous to talk to you since you always seemed to avoid him, or so he thought.

colleague!kento who watched your glossed lips touch, of course he wasn’t paying attention, he had only been thinking about many different ways you could be using your plumped lips for…“so should I take that as a yes?” you ask, awkwardly waiting for him to respond. “huh? yeah sure, whatever…sounds good.”

colleague!kento who watches you jump up and down to his response, seeing you skip away. He shrugs it off and proceeded to type away on his computer. couple hours later, he feels his phone vibrate. picking up the phone, he hears a female voice on the other line who seems to be you.

colleague!kento who rushes over to the bar you were at, he completely forgot you asked him for something but since he wasn’t paying attention, he didn’t know you had asked him if he wanted to go drinking with his other colleagues.

colleague!kento who enters the bar and immediately spots you, you had been munching on bowls of miso soup and washed it down with a couple of drinks while everyone else danced to the music or rambled about how hard work has been lately.

colleague!kento who laughs at the small mess you made and walks over to you, pulling out the chair that’s sitting next to you from the table. you turn you head to the left and look up to spot him already looking at you.

colleague!kento who politely denies your offer when you ask, “oh hey, do you want some?” you seemed a little tipsy, but not to the point where your face would fall straight into the hot bowl filled with veggies.

colleague!kento who holds onto your body, pushing you back so you wouldn’t get too close to him but just enough we’re you could stand on your own.

colleague!kento who immediately got impatient with the way everyone started acting—looking over at your direction and realizing you were already staring— he laughs it off but stops when he sees you pulling closer to him. You give him a big smile and look down towards his soft, plump pink lips.

colleague!kento who starts to get nervous, he never felt this type of feeling—besides when he had work being due the same day and had to turn it in already— but for some reason he couldn’t stop himself when he pushed you away. He didn’t want to have any intimate actions with you when you were not sober.

colleague!kento who reassured you after you asked him, “is it because my breath smells like soup?” while pouting you lips towards him, he laughs it off and shakes his head, “I wouldn’t want for you to regret anything that happens tonight tomorrow morning, bunny.”

colleague!kento who doesn’t realize the face you make after his comment, or the way your plush thighs clenched at the pet name. you loved the way he was so responsible and respectful towards you, only making you a little more wet in between your legs.

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xazse · 4 months

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Imagine sugar baby! Dombot AFAB toji x Sugar daddy Subtop m reader?? Like omg.

And instead of us being the older one it's toji 😭😭 reversed asf, like we do anything toji asks us to do because we actually secretly love him and toji thinks you're just after his pussy because of how much Reader seems to be flustered around him too much all the time, but he didn't even know m reader is HUNG ASF and doesn't have sex too much so he's not really used to fucking, but w toji? My god there's no rest. Toji would be ridin and milkin that dick and his own pussy till dawn OF THE NEXT DAY.

And reader? Oh he'd let him do anything, mf he's too pussy hungry for this too, like he'd do anything toji asks as long as he gets a taste of that pussy 😭😭

A Taste

Pairings: SugarBaby!DombotAfab!Toji x SugarDaddy!Subtop!M!reader

Warnings: Creampie + Afab!Toji + Male!reader + overstimulation + not!proofread + nasty smut + begging + lots of fluids + eating out

Notes: HIII OMG I LOVED UR PROMT SO GOOD AND YUMMY I HOPE THIS IS TO UR LIKING <333 + I may have gotten the sugar daddy part wrong

Toji thinks of you as a little puppy, a very forgiving one too. You practically follow him everywhere not that he minds, you give him money and even a place to stay he can’t complain. Though there are some downsides, everytime Toji offers to pay you back for what you’ve done you’re so quick to shoot it down and tell him to keep his money? Who does that?

He isn’t one to beg you to take it so he pockets it for later. And again when Toji asks if you want to settle down and watch a good movie with him you do say yes. The entire time he notices how you’ll glance in his direction every so often, at his face and even at his chest. This all has to connect to something, you not taking money from him, not wanting anything material wise so what exactly do you want?

He starts to put the puzzles together and comes to the answer that you most likely want sex from him, it all starts to make sense. Toji has had his fair share of sexual encounters but only by older perverted men, never someone as young as you are. What if he’s wrong though? What if he just ends up embarrassing himself and making you uncomfortable? He can’t have that who else is gonna buy him all the sweats and tight shirts he keeps handy? Not those old selfish fucks.

Toji starts slow as to not scare or send you into overdrive, you are a quiet man who keeps to himself but you do have nervous habits he’s picked up on. He also knows you aren’t that sexually active: he’s asked before if you’d want to hit up a club and maybe get a lay tonight but you politely declined and kept away with tapping at your laptop.

The subtle touches start, he’s gracing his fingertips along your back as he passes by you, touching your hand when he hands you something, Toji had even gone a giant step and asked you one day if you wanted a bite of this new snack he’d bought, you accepted but instead of him handing you it, he held it out and fed it to you, the whole time you were staring right into his eyes with a burning flame: oh?

Toji stares at you relaxed, laying down on the couch staring at the tv. You’re faced with your body upwards and your head turned: he decides this is the final moment in his plan. When he places his ass right on top of your cock you’re quick to startle thinking he’s made some type of mistake, a laugh leaves his lips, people don’t usually just sit ontop of someone for no reason? Toji wants you and very badly at that, he wants to repay you for all your kindness and respect.

Flustered and confused you quickly tell him that it’s okay and he doesn’t need to resort to such methods, it falls deaf on ears as he starts grinding against your cock, it’s not long before you’re fully hard dick is pressing against his pussy. Embarrassed that’s exactly what you feel, getting hard so quickly is pathetic.

Toji is ultimately flattered, a handsome man such as yourself getting hard for someone so much older makes his cunt throb. He pulls your pants along with your underwear: freeing your cock. The grin is wiped off his face when he sees just how fucking big you are, you’re thick and long, that’s a deadly fucking combo, he almost wants to back out.

You see his expression and concern fills your own face, is something wrong with you? Are you not to his liking? All sorts of bad things start to fill your head. Toji starts stripping himself of his own bottoms to reveal his dripping pussy, he rests it against your cock, all your worries disappear when all you can do is stare at the size difference between your parts. That’s why.

Your bare cock rests inbetween his lips, his clit is throbbing for some type of stimulation and your cock is begging for the same. You grab his hips boldly and start moving him, his sloppy cunt wets you with every long drag of his body. You both groan lowly. Toji hasn’t had foreplay with those other men, nor have they paid his clit any attention: but you make sure to give it plenty of attention, every so often you’ll use your fingers and rub the wet button, even dipping your fingers to taste him.

Toji has had enough of the foreplay and wants you inside him badly, he lifts his hips and you get the memo to line up your weeping tip with his greedy hole, it feels like he’s sucking you in when he slides down, Toji has to stop for a few to really adjust to you, it’s both frustrating and making him extra horny. When he finally bottoms out he feels so fucking full and he has to really focus on his breathing. Never has his pussy been stretched like this, he fills something warm inside of him and he stares directly at you.

You can’t even look at his face, hiding behind your arms lifted over your head, you really came inside of him and so fucking early, your cum starts to leak a little bit out of him further embarrassing and degrading you, but fuck did it feel so good, he feels good. Toji thinks you’ll go soft but you haven’t, not even a little. Trying to redeem yourself you begin moving his very slowly up and down.

Toji bites his lips as he lets you guide him through the process, you’re looking at him again: with such a warm love stricken face.

Oh god Toji can’t think, your cock is hitting his sweet spot directly over and over, damn the advantages to having a huge dick. He’s on his own as he bounces up and down again and again. You’re doing your part perfectly: meeting him halfway, pounding in him. He’s whining, the Toji fushiguro is whining for more of your cock.

Where you meet is obscenely gross and soaked with your juices mixed together, it’s sticky and sticks to Toji’s pussy everytime he moves up. He’s never produced and came this much from one single session. He doesn’t regret the weeks leading up to this at all, all he can think about is you pushing him over the edge and doing it all over again.

He begins to tire a little and you take over fully, lightly pushing him off of you, the wet sound of your cock slipping out of his pussy sounds so delicious, he thinks you’re going to stop and leave him wanting more but you don’t: you place your hands underneath his knees and push them towards his chest, it hurts, he isn’t flexible but he isn’t going to disobey when you want to give him more.

You push him into a mating press, and slide right back in. This position is more compromising and you get a full view of his face below you, dried tears and drool is present, his eyes are a little red from the overstimulation but he isn’t telling you to stop. You start fucking into him when you get your fill of his face, cock rubbing against his sensitive walls still has him clenching extremely tight around you, a few more strokes and he’s cumming around you with a lewd girly moan.

You do follow after but you just don’t stop, you might not ever get an opportunity like this so you’ll take full advantage of it, even if it comes at the cost of you being selfish.

It’s a wet sloppy mess by the end of it, you think it’s the end because Toji looks so fucked out, but your cock is still hard and throbbing, wanting to fuck him even more. You ask practically beg him for one more and then you’ll be done, he nods lightly allowing you to slip your soaked cock back into his warm embrace.

When toji finally tells you in a meek voice that he’s finished you’re distraught, you want more of him so much more, but when toji gives you the privilege of “cleaning him up” you fucking leap at the opportunity, using your tongue you slide back and forth inbetween his messy folds, lapping up all his cum and your cum. You sneakily even suck on his clit sometimes.

#zsworks #jjk x reader #dom male reader #male reader #toji x male reader #toji fushigro x reader #bottom toji #afab toji #afab toji x reader #Afab toji x Male reader #toji smut #toji x reader

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breadinanutshell · 1 year

Text

I made a list of Halsin facts for my own entertainment a while back but forgot to post it. Dunno if anyone would find this interesting but in case here it is, enjoy~ o/

ACT1

-He writes in tight scribbles, smokes the pipe and loves reading (likely non-fiction). He’s the studious sort, considering his unprompted interest in the parasites and his hunger for knowledge. This aspect of him was more defined in Early Access but sadly got lost during full release. It also briefly comes up during one of his banters in later chapters.

-He rarely drinks: he’s a lightweight and gets overly affectionate when drunk. He also sings when drunk. Badly, per his word.

-Is an actual Disney princess (he has birds scouting and reporting back to him).

-He has a strong sense of duty, so much so he will stop paying attention to other aspects of his life in the pursuit of it. At least in one instance, this has been depicted as a flaw (when he abandons the grove looking for the Nightsong).

-He enjoys spending time in his bear form, and appears to have been the main caretaker for the bears in the grove. Ormn in particular acts heartbroken that Halsin is missing.

-When given the chance, he’s eager to give up his position as archdruid, as he felt it was too draining and confining. Despite his insecurities in his ability as a leader, he’s more shrewd and wise than he lets on: he can play politics when necessary. And people around him have been more than happy to rely on him. He cares about those under his protection. A lot. “The grove is everything to me”.

-He doesn’t shy away from violence when provoked.

-He feels responsible for the shadow curse, and is compelled by the need to fix everything.

-This is a relic from Early Access but you’ll have to pry it from my cold dead hands: in the grove there used to be a fanfic titled “Shadow’s Kiss” written by the druid Roan that featured a certain “Balsin”. At the end of it a written entry by Halsin would threaten to feed Roan to Ormn if he ever saw the name “Balsin” again.

ACT2

-He likes open spaces, reading and whittling utensils and ornaments (ducks in particular). He’s got a sweet tooth and a fondness for honey. He finds it hurtful when he's made fun of for his interests: he admits people tend to underestimate his sensitivity.

-He’s a very religious man and invokes Silvanus any chance he gets. Even so he doesn’t believe in blind faith and chides Shadowheart for not questioning Shar’s teachings.

-He’s 350 years old.

-He has no mercy for goblins, to the point where he disapproves if you spare them in Moonrise. A bit funny, considering there’s a banter later on with Karlach where he insists that “mercy costs us nothing”.

-His scars were caused by a bear who didn’t appreciate being spurned during mating season.

-He’s a veteran who served in the battle against Ketheric Thorm in Reithwin, where eventually the druids and Harpers won. At the time he was likely second to the archdruid that led him into battle. When the shadow curse started spreading, said archdruid died, leaving Halsin in charge. He immediately evacuated the survivors. He still feels guilty for not being able to help more that day. From one of his party banters it’s clear Halsin suffers from survivor’s guilt. He’s lost many friends to the curse, so many in fact that “it would take a day and a night to recite the names of the fallen”.

-Considering how obsessed he’s been with the curse ravaging the land for the past 100 years, it’s unlikely he had any intimate connections during this period of time. He also claims that more good has been done since meeting Tav than in the 100 years before their meeting.

-His family is dead and buried at the foot of the Grandfather Tree in High Forest.

-He seems used to changing environments and affiliations. Once recruited, he’s quick to call Tav his new family.

-He remains polite in the face of scorn and ridicule. Right when he joins if you suggest all he’s good for is cleaning camp he responds with an awkward chuckle and a “wherever you need me”. Later in Act 3 his affections can be brusquely turned down by comparing him to a deep rothé, to which he calmly responds “a simple no would have sufficed”.

-As a child he befriended Thaniel, a spirit of nature, and ever since then he felt a higher calling. Thaniel appears to be as fond of Halsin as Halsin is of Thaniel, mentioning him often to Fist Art Cullagh during their imprisonment in the Shadowfell.

-He is the only expert of shadow curse alive, and if killed in Act 1 the curse cannot be lifted.

ACT3

-He believes himself, or at the very least aims to be, a protector. Any failure (or perceived failure) in fulfilling said role leads him to spirals of self doubt and insecurity. His self worth is heavily dependent on how useful he can be, and without a big purpose or mission to fulfill, he appears lost. In the same vein he seems incapable of staying still and relax, he always needs something to focus on.

-In true druid spirit, he considers cities to be intruding on nature’s realm. On his arrival to Baldur’s Gate, he's appalled and disgusted by the class inequality encountered in the city. He’s disturbed by the suffering of children, in particular.

-When called naive for his dream of a better future he mentions he gave up cynicism when he was 200 years old.

-He’s all for heckling Dribbles’ corny jokes.

-He sees his body as a vessel and his physical prowess as a tool. He takes no pride in it.

-He admits that he didn’t realize how much his responsibilities had been weighting on him until Tav showed up and took that burden away.

-He’s polyamorous, and pretty lax when it comes to sex and relationships: he has no qualms in taking pleasure where “desire finds purchase”. He mentions that he had many lovers in the past and that his heart doesn’t stir lightly. This might imply he’s laid with many, but cared for few. He also doesn’t appear thrilled by the prospect of marriage/tying yourself forever to someone. For a man so against putting a relationship into words, he acts incredibly smitten when romanced and showers his partner in all kinds of sweet praises.

-He’s so attuned to his wildshape that he tends to lose control of his transformations when overcome by strong emotions (i.e. anger, arousal). He appears embarrassed when this accidentally happens in an intimate situation. He does enjoy wildshape during intercourse though, as he even proposes it himself during an interaction with Shadowheart. Per his word, he doesn’t discriminate against any type: in an interaction with Lae'zel he implies he slept with a chimera.

-He considers lust to be the most essential of impulses and feels it’s only natural to be guided by it.

-He’s travelled far and wide. Where we do not know, unfortunately. He mentions he’s been to the Underdark many times and possibly the Nelanther Isles. In his youth he ventured into the Underdark to sate his own wanderlust, where he got captured, enslaved and sexually abused by drows for 3 years.

-He’s self aware of his obsession with nature. When Jaheira warns him not to fall into druid stereotypes, he comments that he does think about other topics such as high art and politics, but to him nothing compares to a tree.

-When speaking of his past, he comments that people seem to focus on the more “salacious chapters” and disregard his years of study. When confronted about it, he seems perfectly content with a life spent studying, meditating, counselling, fighting, training and fucking.

-He used to hibernate as a bear and mentions he spent at least 100 years of his life sleeping. It’s unclear if he’s still in the habit.

-At the end of the campaign he sets out to create a new community in Reithwin with the victims of war and refugees that were turned away from the city. The children of this soon-to-be-founded community refer to him as “daddy Halsin”.

-He considers himself an exceedingly patient man.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #halsin #bg3 spoilers #long post #brainrot be real #i might have missed stuff #but i tried to be as thorough as i could #if you want confirmation feel free to ask

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greg-montgomery · 1 year

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Please just the team telling r about HOW MUCH OF A SOFT SPOT AARON HAS FOR THEM like god he’s literally such a grouch to Morgan and prentiss but he kisses the ground you walk on and they’re like BESTIE GET A GRIP HES WRAPPED AROJND YOUR FINGER bc reader is convinced he doesn’t share their feelings and he’s just being polite </3

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

“Guys, please stop. You’re giving me false hope,” you sighed, dropping your hands on your lap. “I know you’re only trying to make me feel better, but honestly this is making me feel worse.”

“False hope? Sweetheart, the man is in love with you,” Derek said.

“No, he’s not.” You pouted.

You regretted ever telling your friends about your crush on Hotch. What you expected was them making fun of you for it. What you got were daily lectures on how your boss had the hots for you.

“He makes you coffee every single morning,” Emily pointed out.

“He’s just being polite!” you argued.

“We arrive here at the same time every day and he has never made one for me.”

“I’m sure there’s an explanation for this,” you said. “Maybe he thinks you won’t like it the way he makes it. But he knows I do, so that’s why he only does it for me.”

“Okay…” Derek spoke again. His eyebrow was raised, showing he had a very good point to add. “What about when you got hurt last week? It was only a scratch on your cheek but Hotch was ready to drive you to a hospital.”

“Now you’re exaggerating!”

“I saw him cupping your cheeks, it’s true!” Emily exclaimed.

“I also saw that,” Spencer, who had just been observing the conversation, added.

“You too, Spence?”

“Sorry.” He lifted his hands up in defense. “I’m only pointing out what I saw.”

You crossed your arms against your chest. There was no way you’d let them get to you. If you let your heart believe that Aaron had feelings for you then it would break even harder. “He’s like this with all of us.”

Emily moved close to you and took your hand in hers. “No, he’s not,” she said with a smile. “How can you not see it? He looks at you like you’re his sun and stars.”

“We could have an experiment,” Spencer suggested.

“What kind of experiment?”

“Emily got yelled at yesterday for making a mistake during paperwork,” he explained. “I can see you’re preparing a similar report today so you could make on purpose the same mistake as her. Let’s see if he reacts the same way when he sees it. If he yells at you too then that means he treats you the same way he treats all of us. If he doesn’t…then you’re his soft spot.”

“Fine,” you agreed. “Only so you can all finally stop torturing me with this.”

A few hours later, your report was on Hotch’s desk.

“Y/N?”

You heard your name in that warm voice of his and lifted your head to look at him. He was standing at his office door with a smile, certainly not looking like a man about to start yelling.

“Can you please come to my office for a moment?”

“Of course.”

Walking up the stairs to his office, you could feel the stares of your colleagues. Time to prove them wrong, you thought. Even though, you were secretly praying for the opposite.

“What do you need me for?” you acted naive.

“I was just looking at your report,” he said, sitting down on his chair. “And-”

“Oh no, did I make a mistake?”

“No, it’s nothing important!” he rushed to reassure you. “It’s just some little thing. I only wanted to show you so you know the correct way to do it from now on.”

There was a sweet smile on his face. His voice was soft and not at all angry.

“Come on, let me show you.”

It didn’t feel scary to go close to him. So you did.

It was a bit hard to pay attention to him explaining your mistake, since you were staring at his fingers brushing the paper in front of you. It didn’t matter anyway, your mistake wasn’t an accident at all.

“Okay?” he asked when he was done.

“Okay. I’m really sorry, Hotch,” you said, giving him your best puppy eyes. If you were gonna do this experiment, you were gonna do it right. “I’ll be more careful from now on.”

“Why don’t you come to my office next time you prepare a report like this one? We can do it together, hm?”

“But you’re so busy, I don’t wanna slow you down,” you argued, your heart beating faster and faster as you realized that Aaron wasn’t angry at all with you.

“Nonsense. We’re doing it together next time.”

“Okay,” you said. “Thank you, Hotch.”

Just before you arrived at the door, you heard him calling your name. “Oh and Y/N?”

“Yeah?” you responded, looking back at him.

“The team is right.”

“Right on what?”

He smirked and dropped his gaze back to his papers. “You know what.”

You turned around to exit his office with a huge grin on your face. Sometimes it feels better when you lose.

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #hotch #criminal minds #ask #hotch 🪐

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cozage · 1 year

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Hi hope you are having a good day

I wanted to know what would it be like if, Mihawk, Shanks and Buggy had a female s/o that was basically like inosuke from demon slayer, they are a bit dumb but will pick a fight with everyone, and they only wear a bandaged top with like shorts or smt.

You guys have been asking me lots of questions and making me feel loved so here is this!!! (And maybe more spicy things to come later this week 👀)

Characters: female reader x Mihawk, Shanks, Buggy Wordcount: 850 CW: the last bullet point in all of them that are a little spicy

She’s Kinda Stupid, but…

Mihawk

This man is literally so tired. He’s so tired.

Will very often say things like “I didn’t know I was in charge of three children.” (yes Perona and Zoro are his CHILDREN okay) or “Are you acting your age today, or are we pretending you’re six years old again?” or “I’ve met dogs more behaved than you.” (it’s all coming from a place of love and he knows you won't take offense because you don’t take offense to anything)

You’re a brat and he knows it (and loves it). He loves you but god you are so much work when the two of you are out in public. He feels like he can’t take his eyes off you or you’ll end up in a fight with some random guy because he looked at you funny.

Most of the time he doesn’t acknowledge your shenanigans. When you fight with someone, he’ll grab your wrist and physically pull you away from them, usually with some kind of snide remark.

Sometimes you’re justified, though. And when that happens, he gives the guy who wronged you five seconds to apologize before he sets you loose. Most of the time the guy sees Mihawk and apologizes, but the swordsman secretly hopes the guy won't apologize. And on the few occasions they don't apologize, he smirks as he releases you.

He always has to pull you off the guy because you just don't know when to stop. In all truthfulness, it kind of gets him hot and bothered, but he always pretends to be irritated. “You’re psychotic. Do I need to teach you how to behave?” he scolds, his gold eyes scanning your body. “I can think of a few ways to get you to listen.”

Shanks

Shanks adores you. Cheers you on. Loves watching you cause absolute chaos. Why? Because you are him without a conscience.

Shanks knows when he needs to flip the switch from polite to fight, but you don’t. You are always at 100%, your most authentic self 24/7. And he absolutely adores that about you. Even if that means that sometimes you take it a bit too far.

Sometimes Shanks will even use your emotions to his advantage. “Can you believe that guy just did that?!” or “Talk about rude!” knowing full well you’re ready to throw down whoever wronged you or him.

The absolute only time that Shanks will stop you from fighting someone is when you all are in a building. He’s had to pay SO MANY owners back for you destroying glassware and furniture and plenty of other damaged goods. You learned pretty quickly that the first words out of your mouth should be “Wanna take this outside?!” because if you were outside then Shanks didn’t stop you.

The first few fights, he watched carefully, making sure he would be able to jump in if he needed to. The next couple of fights, he watched you with an amused look, excited to see how you were going to beat up the guy (and just to make sure you would win). Nowadays, he doesn’t even feel the need to go outside with you, but sometimes he does just to cheer you on.

After your victory, he always rewards you with a bunch of kisses and sings your praises. He pulls you onto his lap at the bar, making sure everyone knows you're his. “You did so well. I loved how you stomped that guy into the dirt,” he’ll coo, dotting kissing across your neck. “How about later I show you just how proud I am of you, okay?”

Buggy

You never cease in stressing this man out. He is always on high alert now because of you.

Stealth missions? Forget it. Normal day in town? Absolutely not. He BEGS you to be a normal human being in public. To have an ounce of self preservation. But you cannot comprehend that. People who talk shit deserve to get hit.

He is constantly running after you, screaming at you to stop fighting people for no reason. Sometimes he’ll even jump in front of your punches to try and de-escalate it (which of course doesn’t work and results in you just punching him in the face). You don’t even feel bad, you just scream at him to get out of the way and beat up the other guy even more since he made you hurt your boyfriend.

If anyone makes fun of him, he doesn’t even have a chance to scream at them anymore. You’re already pounding their face into the ground. And every time you do, he falls in love with you a little bit more.

“That’s right, that’s my baby!” he screams, watching you smugly walk away from some guy’s beaten body. “Let’s go celebrate, you can do whatever you want.” He grabs your hand, practically pulling you back to the ship.

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literaila · 7 months

Text

a bit loud

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: you and satoru take the kids to the fair

warnings: satoru is overstimulated (argue with the wall), and fluff

last part | next part

year two.

satoru doesn’t really like crowds.

this is nothing new. when he was a kid, it was usually just him. a teacher or two, a nursemaid to make sure he didn't run away or break anything.

he grew used to being the most important thing, the only important person in a twenty-mile vicinity.

he got used to being alone.

and now, satoru enjoys going out and buying things, but only on weekdays, early in the morning or late at night—when it’s empty enough to see just the barest of things and pay complete attention to what he’s doing.

he likes going out with you—and the children, when they’re behaving—but only when his sole worry is about one of you wandering off.

he doesn’t enjoy watching over all of you. thinking about all of the people around you, seeing them, and wondering if he needs to step in the way.

he hates it when he runs into person after person, trying still to be polite—like you beg him to—not wanting to say that it’s all too much. that he could go insane with just the pure force of all of those people. their involuntary attacks.

it's just loud with so many people. even with his brain actively repairing itself at any given moment, it’s an overwhelming feeling—to see

everything that’s going on around him. to know exactly how everyone's feeling at every second, and try to defend himself--and all of you--from them.

he recalls something someone said once about strength having drawbacks…

but, today, he thinks, today he’ll deal with it.

it's safe to say that satoru isn't used to this many people in one place--standing in line for everything or maneuvering his way through a crowd.

but it's fine.

especially when you’ve got that grin on your face—that half-serious, half-delirious look. the kind of look that would be enough to rip his heart out, if he'd let it.

satoru doesn’t get to see that very often, anymore.

and even before it was only in the middle of the night. when he would drag you around when you were both supposed to be sleeping, sneaking off campus and getting you into trouble. when the two of you would giggle breathlessly in the dark, completely alone, pretending to be just kids.

when he might imagine a future that wasn't just jujutsu, but something more.

that look on your face might be his favorite thing.

“what should we do first?” you ask tsumiki—who is looking in awe at all of the bright colors and flashing lights—and megumi, who’s trying to pretend like he’s not clinging to your side.

every couple of seconds the four of you move to the side, trying to avoid all of the other people.

satoru is particular about the way he leads all of you, trying not to wince every time someone shouts something. he ducks around one person and steps to the side for another.

you don't seem to mind, so satoru pretends he doesn't.

“ferris wheel!” tsumiki says, looking up above her. it's in front of all of you, much bigger than satoru expected from pictures. how a giant circle that spins round and round is fun, he's not sure.

he frowns. “can’t we get something to eat? i think they have taiyaki.”

“i wasn’t asking you,” you tell satoru, rolling your eyes like you’ve been doing since he made fun of you for jumping out of the car.

it really was cute, though.

he leans his chin on your shoulder easily, walking alongside you. tsumiki’s hand is in one of his, and megumi is basically attached to your leg, hands curled around your pants. “good thing i answered anyway.”

cue another eye roll and you looking to megumi. “you okay with the ferris wheel?”

“yeah,” he mutters, frowning when someone else brushes against him.

but even satoru saw the way he lit up at the first sight of the fair, all of the rides and games. even though he might act like a single, depressed, middle-aged man—he’s just a boy.

and satoru imagines this is supposed to be fun. if he was seven he would've run away already, trying to hide from whoever was supposed to watch him that day. he probably would've gotten lost and then stolen some candy from one of the many different stands.

but he would've liked it, he's sure. even if it is loud.

satoru grins, looking at the boy. “are you sure?” he teases. “not going to get scared?”

megumi glares. “why would i be scared?”

“satoru, don’t be mean.”

“what?” he asks you, ignoring the way you and megumi share a look. “i’m just asking. you know how he gets around heights.”

“im not five,” megumi tells him, scoffing.

satoru tries not to snort.

“leave him alone," you say, shaking your head at him, though satoru watches you refrain a smile. "i can sit with him if he doesn’t want to go. okay, megs?”

tsumiki pouts at that idea, though satoru knows she won’t argue. and neither will you, even though satoru's pretty sure that you're dying to be on that spinning thing.

megumi, obviously noticing this, bucks his chin. “no. i’ll go.”

“ooo, bravery,” satoru sidesteps your push, “that’s a good lesson for you.”

“don't tease him."

“are you scared?” megumi asks.

satoru laughs. “please.”

you grin, setting your free hand on his shoulder--an attack on his skin disguised as a comforting gesture--looking at him with a mock pout. “aw, satoru. it’s okay. if you want to stay behind, i’m sure megumi wouldn’t mind waiting with you…”

megumi smirks. “yeah. i’ll wait.”

tsumiki looks up at him with wide eyes. “it’s okay to be afraid, gojo. we don’t have to go.”

he knocks your arm away and lets go of tsumiki’s hand—though making sure to search around him at all times for her presence, like he’s learned to do (he's lost them far too many times in the house to do anything different). he crosses his arms. “you guys are so uncivilized.”

you all laugh, but that's the end of the discussion.

ferris wheel it is.

while you're waiting in line you tell satoru that it's prettier at night, when you get to the top and can look down at all of the lights. satoru nods along, feeling grateful that it's not night and he doesn't have to experience that. but he grins at you all the while, pretending to be interested in whatever memories you tell him about.

he'd listen to you talk about the components of dirt, probably (while complaining the entire time, of course).

and megumi is forced to sit next to satoru when you all get on the ride, you laughing at something he says next to tsumiki, the two of you watching as the ride begins to go up.

satoru pretends not to notice the way megumi moves closer to him as they get higher and higher. the way he leans into his side, closer than he'd usually get.

and he pretends not to notice all of the people.

it’ll be fine, he’s sure. it's not that bad, anyway. it’s only one day.

you’re pouting when he steps up to the bar, handing the attendant a ticket that he purchased for way too much money.

satoru stands behind you and watches you fail miserably at the ring toss four times before he steps in. honestly, it was a bit sad.

“it’s okay,” satoru tells you, wanting to squeeze your precious face. “i’ll get you the teddy bear.”

you cross your arms. “it’s not for me, it’s for the kids.”

“well, i’ll win them it.”

you frown even deeper, looking away from him.

tsumiki and megumi are leaning over the railing behind you, both of them watching eagerly. though, tsumiki gives satoru a “good luck!” and megumi only stares.

whatever. when he wins the boy his own bear—probably the one with the hearts all over it, just to mess with him—he’ll get a smile.

or megumi will side with you like always and throw away his bear in the nearest trash can. satoru doesn't really care, as long as he gets to laugh in your face after he wins.

satoru throws his first ring—which obviously goes directly on the bottle—and you mutter something like “show off," behind him.

he smirks at you and throws another.

after five rings, satoru naturally not missing one, you’re almost slack-jawed.

and then he does it again (because he can’t get one bear for both children) and you’re furious.

“how did you do that?” you demand, as the attendant hands satoru both the bears—a pink, glittery one that satoru will probably steal for tsumiki. “these games are supposed to be rigged.”

“then why are we playing them?” satoru asks, still grinning as he hands both of the kids the bears he’s just won them. his eyes don't leave yours for a moment.

tsumiki squeals, happily, naming her bear clementine and patting its head. megumi only stares at his.

“because—“ you say, pausing. your face is scrunched up. “well, i thought i could win.”

“what did we learn today, children?” satoru asks, rhetorically.

“that you’re a show-off,” you say, without hesitation.

“and you’re a sore loser.”

you scoff. “okay, satoru. we’ll see who’s talking the next time you lose at go fish.”

“you guys were cheating.”

“were not,” megumi says, frowning at both of you. tsumiki is too wrapped up in her new prize to pay any attention.

“were too.”

“please go find a new family,” you deadpan to satoru, looking around. “oh, look, there’s a couple of birds by that game. perfect for you.”

“if i’m living with any woodland creature,” he tells you, “it’s the squirrels. they are a proper society.”

“‘woodland creature?’” you mock, shaking your head. “did you hit your head on your ego by accident?”

satoru only grins at that, and the way you look back at the ring toss, still frowning.

your attitude today is very interesting to him.

you might as well be one of the kids, floating around the fair, wanting to try everything. he’s watched you refrain yourself from bouncing on your heels several times already.

it’s… nice, satoru thinks. you’re always so pretty, but especially with your dazed grin on. especially standing in the sun, eyes darting from place to place.

your entire presence is a blow to his core. a direct attack on his heart and his fragile stability.

especially when you’re trying to rile up tsumiki and megumi, double-checking to make sure that they’re having as much fun as you. shoving them into game after game and practically forcing them to have fun.

satoru hasn't seen you like this ever. and he's also never been to the fair, so it's a strange day.

and when the four of you begin to walk around again, you don’t push satoru away, not to glare at him, or ask him what game to play next. you just idle beside him, eyes sparkling in the light.

and he ignores it when megumi asks if you can really find him a new family or not.

satoru and tsumiki are looking for you and megumi—even though you’re well over sixty feet in the air.

“is that them?” tsumiki asks, pointing at a blob in the sky.

satoru looks up, wincing at the sun, seeing nothing but specks in the air. and clouds. it's a nice day outside, not too warm, not too cold.

and satoru might be going a bit delusional. he's been outside for two hours, which is an hour longer than he prefers.

“yeah, i think i see megumi’s frown. huh.”

ten minutes ago, you left the two of them there to go on the rollercoaster, after several minutes of debate about what you should do.

tsumiki, like satoru, didn't love the idea of being whipped around in the air at a million miles per hour. not that satoru was scared--of course not--it's just that his hair is so delicate, and he'd have to take his glasses off.

tsumiki, though, was scared, and you'd tried to move all of them along but satoru could tell how badly you wanted to go, and megumi kept looking up in interest, so he'd told you they would wait here.

there were several minutes of you making sure that they were going to be okay without you.

he obviously pushed you away and smiled as you walked away with megumi, a hand on his back as you rushed to get in line.

“do you think he’s scared?” tsumiki asks him, smiling happily, her legs swinging in the air.

“nah," satoru is sitting too close, definitely, but tsumiki doesn't seem to mind. her bangs blow a little with the wind and she pushes them out of her eyes. "probably just sitting there bored.” satoru does his best impression of megumi at any moment, crossing his arms and slouching down with a frown.

tsumiki giggles, imitating him (and megumi). “how long will it take?”

if satoru didn't know any better, he would say that she already misses you. even though you're not really that far away--just a hundred feet above them. if satoru was anybody else, he would realize that he already misses you too.

but he doesn't. he's good here, with all of the other people in the world. you're basically just a coworker to him (not).

he shrugs. “i don’t know. i’ve never been on a rollercoaster.”

“me either.”

he gives her a knowing look. “i don’t think we’re missing out on much.”

“megumi wanted to go," tsumiki says, like it makes a difference.

“megumi didn't argue when y/n wanted to go,” he corrects. because he doubts that the boy would've ever suggested it, had you not been there. “she likes stuff like that.”

tsumiki makes a face and satoru pinches her cheek. it leaves a red mark--that you'll surely comment on when you come back--and tsumiki scrunches her nose at him.

the two of them are almost alone in the crowd. sitting there together, both of them waiting for their other half. satoru really doesn't mind it, though, sitting with tsumiki.

she's a pleasant distraction from everyone else. and her happiness seems to leak into him, like a drug.

she reminds him of you in the best of ways. the secret specks of life he wouldn't be able to see in any other place. the same genuineness and consideration.

“have you been here before?” she asks, after a moment, tilting her head curiously as she looks up at him with big brown eyes.

“nope,” satoru looks around, adjusting his glasses. “i had better things to do when i was your age.”

“like what?”

“uh…" satoru doesn't even remember. "eat cereal?”

she giggles.

“i don’t know," he grins at her, "i lived in a big house and we didn’t leave much.”

“we live in a big house.”

“bigger.”

her eyes widen. “really?”

“yup. but our house is better.”

it's true enough, he thinks. it's less lonely with both of the kids around and you stopping by almost every day. more comforting. satoru doesn't feel like he's being pushed into anything when he gets home every day.

he nudges tsumiki, tickling her side a bit.

she giggles again, nodding. “the house megumi and i lived in before was smaller. we shared a room.”

satoru nods. he's been there, he thinks. he's seen the mess, the space, and all of the time it took to wreck it all.

well, if he's terrible at taking care of the kids, at least he can give them more than that. a house with two people to watch over them. dinner every night.

“i liked it, but i think megumi likes his own.” she tells him, “i like my room, too, though. especially with the poster you got me. and the pink sheets.”

“yeah, i have excellent taste.”

she smiles at him--because she's the nicest of all of you. then looks back into the sky. he looks up too, but he can't make you or megumi out any more than before. “how much longer?”

“i don’t know…” satoru looks down, back to all of the noise surrounding him. “wanna get some wata-ame?”

tsumiki’s eyes widen excitedly, and she nods.

satoru smiles at her mischievously, knowing that this is their only opportunity.

(if you were there, you would kick him for trying to make her more hyper than she already is).

“okay, let’s hurry before they’re done.”

and neither of them really mind sitting back and watching. satoru basks at her little hand in his, and the smile she wears when you and megumi finally return.

yeah, satoru doesn't have to think about it. he doesn't even need to try one out; he knows that this was better than any rollercoaster.

it's gotten a little bit louder, as the day goes on. just like satoru knew it would.

he tries to distract himself with your smile, with megumi's annoyance any time he says anything to the boy, or tsumiki's wide eyes taking in every new attraction. and it works, for the most part.

but there's that tapping on his eyes, like a signal that he needs to back away. every time someone walks too close, it gets a little bit harder.

not that he'll say anything though. he can't ruin your fun with his eyes.

now you and satoru are sitting on a bench, watching both megumi and tsumiki go by on the carousel. you wave at them every time, but satoru is looking up towards the sky, trying to ignore the poking at his eyes.

“hey,” you nudge him after he's spent a minute like that. “you okay?”

“hmm?”

you wait until satoru looks at you, gesturing your chin towards him. “do you have a headache?”

satoru stares at you, brows furrowing. you're not supposed to know anything, he thinks. he's kept this secret very close to his heart.

(if you ignore the wincing and frown he has every time someone wins a prize around him).

you laugh, maybe because he's withering. “we can go,” you tell him, a little too seriously. “i know this isn’t—“

satoru shakes his head immediately. “no. i’m fine.”

“if you’re getting overwhelmed…”

“i’m not. it’s okay,” he grins at you, trying not to feel all that affected by your concern. the last person to notice anything like his headaches, or silence was suguru. or, the only other person. “i just need a snack.”

“you just had a snack.”

“well, i need another one.”

you roll your eyes, looking back to the kids, tsumiki going around with her mouth open wide in excitement. “fine. after this, we can find something.”

satoru smiles pleased and rests his head on your shoulder. like a kitten. this lasts for a second before he wraps his arms around you, making sure that you have no possible escape.

your heart is only so loud, but if he tilts his head enough, he can hear it pounding. it's soft, a gentle distraction from the rest of it.

you glance down at him and then away. “are you having fun?”

“loads.”

you poke his side. “satoru.”

“what? it’s true!”

“you’re such a liar,” you say, leaning away from his embrace.

but satoru’s not going to allow that, so he adjusts his old, moving you so your legs are pressed directly against his. he ignores how warm you are, how soft.

but it's pleasant, like this. a bit of reprieve for his head, and an excuse to keep you close. satoru would've spent the whole day clinging to you if he didn't know it would raise suspicions. if he didn't know that you would look at him weirdly and megumi would make some outrageous comment about him--

“i like it,” he says, “it’s exciting.”

you don’t say anything.

“c’mon, don’t pout. you’re supposed to be happy. having fun,” he whispers, just like you've been saying to the kids all day.

you lean against him, eyes following the flashing lights. “i didn’t really think about how… much it is,” you bite your lip, “i’m sorry. we should've picked something else. something easier.”

“no, really,” satoru looks up at you, and your cautious eyes. you've got that furrow in your brows--the same one you get when tsumiki is frowning or megumi says something a bit morose. and, really, he would take this more seriously if you didn't look so cute. “it’s fine. you think i haven't had a headache before?" he asks, shaking his head. "this is nothing. plus, the kids are having fun."

you raise a brow at him. “megumi?”

“i mean… as much fun as he can have.”

“he’s going to lock himself in his room for the next six days. i won’t get to see him at all.”

“he’ll come out for dinner,” satoru reassures you, laughing when you frown.

you both sit there for a moment, leaning on each other. it’s a well-practiced routine, this sort of closeness. it's been written again and again through many years, a comfort that neither of you will recognize.

satoru listens to your heart closely, trying to ignore all of the other sounds and sights.

this isn't overwhelming, he thinks, it's just different. he's sure that he'll make it through a couple of more hours.

satoru clears his throat, after a moment, leaning back. “are you having fun?”

you look at him, eyes wide in anticipation, mouth already curling.

and yeah, you don’t really need to answer that. he already knows.

“what next?” you’re asking, for probably the sixtieth time today.

the kids are looking around, but their eyes are dreary. megumi is slow to blink, and tsumiki has lost that little glimmer in her smile.

but, satoru notes, you’re as awake as ever. looking around—missing the obvious exhaustion of the two of them. you're wired, stuck to this one indulgence--more of a kid than either of them.

he holds back a smile, letting tsumiki lean against his leg. she's slouching, moving at half of her normal pace.

“hey,” he says to you, gesturing his head down to her. you look at him curiously.

the two of you share a look, but your brows stay furrowed.

“we could—“ tsumiki yawns, pausing for a moment. then she blinks. “we could do that climbing thing—“ she yawns again. “over there.”

megumi looks where she’s pointing and doesn’t say anything. he doesn’t even look like he’s about to argue, even though he's been arguing about every decision for the last two hours. for his entire life.

both of them are cranky. like toddlers missing their afternoon naps.

and your eyes widen, devout attention suddenly on them. satoru can see it as the realization hits your face, looking between the two kids hurriedly.

then you look at satoru, panicking a little.

what do we do? you’re asking him, with just your expression.

you've got a guilty look on your face, and satoru knows that you're thinking about all of the things you've forced them into--the seven hours you've dragged all of them around.

he could tell you that he didn't mind a minute of it, but you'd just argue with him.

he grins at you, tapping tsumiki’s shoulder. then he fakes a yawn. “i don’t know... i’m pretty tired...” he says, trying to make his voice rough.

you look at him for a moment, then play along, a fake smile adorning your face. “aw, satoru. is it past your bedtime?”

“yes.”

you laugh, and rest your hand on top of megumi’s head “are you guys okay with going home now? we wouldn’t want satoru to miss out on his twelve hours.”

satoru rolls his eyes.

"you know how he gets," you add, to both of them, giving satoru a little grin--which he promptly tucks in his mind for safe-keeping.

“fine,” megumi says, tripping on his feet.

the two of them begin to walk blindly forward, not bothering to look for the exit. they are practically zombies at this point, completely out of it. satoru is quick to snatch the back of megumi's hoodie and the boy glares at him. he's got the other hand around tsumiki's arm, keeping her in place as she tries to escape.

satoru smirks back at the boy, and then he scoops tsumiki up, letting her climb across his back, in a makeshift piggyback. he taps her legs. “good?” he asks, but she only nods, not bothering to protest that she can walk, yawning again and then resting her head on his shoulder.

it takes you a moment, but megumi doesn’t complain when you pick him up as well—because he’s started swaying at this point—and he wraps his legs around your waist, settling into your hold with your arms around him.

his eyes close, and satoru feels a bit jealous for a single second. he looks so content.

if only he was small enough to fit in your arms like that.

satoru steps beside you, giving you a look. “you got him?”

“i went to the same school as you,” you remark and begin to walk towards the entrance. "and just so you know, this is your fault."

"how is it my fault? i was just following directions."

"and getting them both high on sugar."

satoru's lip twitches. "they were hungry."

you roll your eyes, but your shoulder still brushes his as you walk. satoru's feet hurt, but he doesn't say a thing.

it takes you both a minute to find it—the real maze is this entire thing—but eventually, you’re walking through the gates, trying to remember where you parked the car.

the two of you walk around, exchanging brief comments and secretive smiles. if anyone's high here, he thinks, watching you smile at him for the fifth time, it's you.

you're high on the adrenaline of nostalgia. the sort of memory that satoru knows he won't ever experience; not that he really minds living vicariously through you--he'd like to experience everything through your eyes.

still, he doesn't fail to smile back every time, a bit sick from the delight exuding from you.

as soon as you get to the car, the two of you quickly strap the kids in, satoru leaving a kiss on tsumiki's cheek as she clings to his shirt. it takes a moment, but he's gentle as he pries her hands away from him.

a moment later, as soon as he's sat in the passenger side, she's already snoring.

he laughs, smiling back at both of them adoringly. megumi is slumped to the side, sleeping as only an exhausted child can be, and he doesn't even notice when satoru reaches back to squeeze his leg affectionately.

you look at satoru helplessly.

"guess they didn't need a bedtime story," he says, shrugging. one of them murmurs something in their sleep and you grin at him again, starting the car.

he'll have to buy tickets again soon, satoru thinks, just so you'll just keep smiling at him like that.

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colourstreakgryffin · 7 months

Note

Hiiii

Can you make another Alastor x Rarity reader like I love it sm and I need more 😭😭❤️

If you do thank youuuu

I definitely can! My dear @sillyalastor, here will be yours and @nenerobobot’s post for Rarity-reader and Al! I hope you both like our kinda short follow up to the Radio Demon and his Drama Queen!

Alastor- Diamond Trio

Alastor knows how much of a detail-orientated and fussy woman you are, and he knows fashion colours, stitching processes, habits, facts and more on the top of his head. He knows what is considered eggshell white and what is considered ivory white. That’s how much time he spends with you

Alastor has been teaching you some new recipes, ones that get a bit messy. Whilst, you’re very worried about getting food on you and is wearing about five layers of protection each time you cook with him. He finds it cute and cheers you on for you being so precise and careful with the measurements. You’ll stand there for five minutes making sure the water percentage is just perfect and he thrives off that

Alastor is not a fan of you being friends with any of the Overlords except Rosie, so when he finds out, you befriended a fellow fashionista Velvette. He is supportive of your wishes but he is glaring down Velvette and threatening her behind your back to not hurt you or he’ll hurt her. Needless to say… Al’s protective and he doesn’t tolerate any of your friends trying to ruin your spirits or your work

So that means, if anybody rejects your outfit choice and creation you made for them, even politely. Alastor will hunt them down. You’re generous and you should be praised for that generosity. Alastor takes everything you give him, if he doesn’t like it, he’ll merely ask for some additions. He won’t ever demand a new outfit or item

Now. How did you and Alastor meet, you ask? You met him at a grand gala. It mainly consisted of Overlords but some Sinners can be invited and you were one of those rare sinners brought over to this incredible party

Alastor had been quite intrigued by you, the moment he saw you. A gorgeous, classy, sophisticated sinner dressed in the most pretty, regal maroon pink dress he has ever seen. You had attended this ‘best night ever’ party in hopes to find your prince, the man of your dreams and when you ran into a prissy but handsome Overlord that screamed prince-like grace, you immediately latched onto him. Unaware that you’re actual prince is the one Overlord all the guests avoided like the plague

Alastor couldn’t bring himself to just ignore the only shining jewel within this boring, prim and proper high-class party. He was so uninterested that he only got entertainment, out of talking to his dear friend, Rosie. So after some quick consideration, he begun to secretly follow you and your… date around the large palace hosting this gala. He was curious on what you’d do and the disgust he felt over this Overlord acting so uncharming and so harsh to a sweet lady such as yourself. He doesn’t tolerate women of radiance being disrespected

Alastor is so glad that you finally put your foot down after all the treatment: that ‘Prince’ of a Overlord making you pay for treats, making you give up the cushion seat, taking your rose for himself, making you throw your gorgeous silky-fabric shawl over a puddle so neither of you would slip. No gentleman should treat his lady this way and his blood is boiling in pure disgust at his fellow Overlord. The final straw is when that Overlord used you as a shield to block off the pretty strawberry icing cheesecake that came flying at the pair of you

Alastor watched from the sidelines with much pride and respect, over you talking that Overlord down and proclaiming he is a royal pain but of course, that ‘prince’ only cared about his looks and was scared of you drenched in the cake. Shaking off some of the cake on your dress, hair and face to get it onto the Overlord, out of raw rage. You ended up stomping out of the main big dance ballroom, furious and on the verge of crying. Leaving that ‘date’ of yours behind

Alastor couldn’t stop himself from following you. He was curious how a pretty mid-atlantic accented lady would handle being humiliated and having lashed out against her ‘date’ in front of almost ALL of the guests in the Gala. Your pretty sparkly almost diamond-like eyes poured tears, smudging your nice mascara and light blue eyeshadow as you stomped into the pretty empty gardens and cried out your rage

Oh. Alastor didn’t like seeing somebody so innocent and done no wrong mistreated like this. Even if it was amusing, he doesn’t like it

So, he finally approaches you after a few seconds of watching you vent out your feelings through sobs. His strong sharp crimson red eyes going from your forehead golden crown to the glass plumps to the still damp shawl tied around your shoulders in a classy princess style. You’re the most beautiful guest at this sorry excuse of a Gala. Alastor folds one arm behind his back, his own gala-style black, white and red coloured suit making his red and black colouration pop as he presents you with a rose

“I believe this is yours, my dear” Your glassy eyes turned over to look at him, the almost folded, multi-layers of your dress hugging your curves and hiding your leg movements as it just felt like this night went from the worst to the best. Is this the actual gentleman you’ve always wanted?! Gently reaching out, you’re a bit intimidated by how strong his glare is, how visible his golden yellow fangs are through that wide open grin, with how menacing his long fingers are

Taking the still stemmed rose from Alastor, you didn’t even know his name but you wished you did… you are a bit scared he may be a fake like that awful Overlord you were chasing after just before but he seems friendly enough. Alastor lifts up your hands with his single one, precisely placing the rose into your prettily curled and tied up hair, just above your bangs before speaking once more. His entire presence leaking charm, grace and poise

“Shall we dance?”

You were a bit shy, still drenched in destroyed layered cake batter but Alastor didn’t even chuckle at how ruined your clean, neat look is now. He merely snaps his fingers and like that, all the sweet confectionery remains are gone and all the ruffled, ripped or knotted parts of your dress and hair is smoothed out to perfection, as well as your slightly wet shawl back to being completely dry and your makeup returned to more presentable. Just like how you looked when you entered this Gala and when Alastor first saw you. Taking a deep breath, your cheeks flustered and blushy

You take his hand and with a single tug, you and him are dancing together in the calm, breezy, beautiful gardens of the giant gala palace, no music, no other prissy annoying guests. Just the plants, the animals and you two

Your eyes are no long filled to the brim with tears, anger and heartbreak. You’re now developing a sense of admiration and awe at Alastor being so gentlemanly and sweet with you in seconds flat, he’s treating you the way you wanted that blueblood ass to treat you and it’s making your heart flutter. Twirling slowly in a nice slow steady waltz, the only music ringing is the sound of the nearby birds singing

That night was the best night ever

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sencrose · 3 months

Text

— COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS, I’LL COUNT MY SINS

pairing: suguru geto x f!reader

tags: DUBCON, coercion/heavy manipulation, stalking by proxy, fingering, cunnilingus, breeding, power imbalance, reader can see curses but is not a sorcerer/curse user, one mention of making reader into a mother lol

wc: 4.9k

a/n: idk what to say lol this has been in my drafts for 3 years and i’ve been working on it on and off since ‘21 so if the writing style feels all over the place it’s because it is. ao3 link here

summary: suguru usually doesn't pay any mind non-sorcerers, but when he realizes you can see the cursed spirit wrapped around him, his interest is piqued. he'll bring you to him, using less than savory methods.

To no one’s surprise, Suguru Geto, the most wanted curse user in Jujutsu society, is not a big fan of outings. Especially those in Tokyo. Then again, he promised the girls that he would take them on a day out. Nanako and Mimiko being the trendy teens they are, insisted on a day in the city. So he finds himself in some trendy cafe with overpriced drinks and photogenic food. The girls are excited of course, saying it’s something they’ve been eyeing out on Instagram for the past few months.

As soon as he steps into the cafe, he’s greeted with the sickly-sweet aroma of baked goods wafting through the air. It’s decadent and overwhelming, as if the simple act of inhaling will coat the back of his throat with syrup. It’s safe to say he won’t be ordering anything for himself but a black coffee. The walls are a rosy pink, decorated with frames of dried flowers and neon light fixtures of faux-inspirational quotes. The glass case at the front of the store has various arrays of grandiose drinks and picture-perfect desserts on display.

While the girls are dressed for the occasion, Suguru sticks out like a sore thumb in his casual attire of a loose t-shirt and jeans. He could have dressed up a bit more, but something about matching outfits with a dessert he’s not going to order doesn’t sit right with him. More importantly, the thing that sticks out most about him isn’t his outfit or the lack of photos he’s taking on his phone; it’s the unsightly worm sitting around his shoulder.

It’s for protection. Any regular citizen won’t be able to see it and if he were to be spotted by a sorcerer, it’s good to have a weapon on hand.

As he waits at a table with the girls, he can’t help but notice someone staring at him. Upon another glance, your stare isn’t necessarily aimed at him, but the creature on his shoulder. An alarm in his head is ringing, but he maintains his cool composure, not wanting to worry the girls. He can never be too careful. It may have been nearly a decade since he’s been cast aside by Jujutsu society, but he still has a death warrant above his head.

There are three options. First, you’re a jujutsu sorcerer sent to kill him. You haven’t made a move or shown any signs of calling for help, so he could rule that out. Second, you’re a curse user. Then again, you haven’t hidden your gaze. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. He can feel your eyes burn a hole into his shoulder. Any curse user worth their salt wouldn’t be so obvious. So that leaves the last option: you’re an unfortunate civilian who was born with the ability to see cursed spirits. It may be a curse to some, but to Suguru’s eyes, this was a blessing. An opportunity.

He should be disgusted with this intrigue; you aren’t a sorcerer after all. But this is different.

Your lingering stare has nothing to do with his status as one of the most despicable sorcerers of all time, nor does it have anything to do with the false religion he runs. It has everything to do with the deformed worm wrapped around him. Suguru excuses himself from the table, as he makes his way towards you. His steps are careful, calculated, with his shoes gently tapping against the linoleum floor.

“Is something the matter?” He wears a smile on his face, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, feigning politeness. His sudden question causes you to jump, briefly taking you out of your staring contest with the creature wrapped around him.

“N-no, sorry.” You can’t bear to look him in the eye, your gaze going back and forth between the worm on his shoulder and the half-eaten dessert on your plate.

“Is there something on my shoulder?” He looks past the creature resting so casually on him. You immediately ball your hands into fists, knuckles white with how tight you’re squeezing. Regret blooms in your chest, your heart pounding so hard you can feel it in your ears. You never should have looked in his direction.

“No, I’m just… just spacing out a little. My bad.” you lie through your teeth, hoping the explanation is enough for him to leave you alone.

“No, my apologies. Enjoy your meal.” he leaves it at that, offering a wave as he walks away.

He walks back to his table with his hands in his pockets, an air of nonchalance to him. He leaves you alone, for now. That doesn’t stop him from stealing a look or two on occasion. He finds it cute, how flustered you get when your eyes match his for a split second. He can see your heart skip a beat when your body jolts a bit out of your seat.

You remind him of a helpless rabbit, the way your hand slightly trembles as you bring up your fork for a bite of your pastry. He ponders the idea of taking you apart, piece by piece, savoring your pleas and cries as if they’re part of a decadent three course meal.

A soft chuckle escapes his lips as he takes a sip of his black coffee, looking at you through half-lidded eyes.

Maybe the girls could use a mother.

—

You’re used to strange sights every now and then. It’s something nobody around you ever seemed to understand, dismissing your long-winded descriptions of horrors as an overactive imagination. You’ve since given up on explaining your visions to others, but they haven’t given up on you.

They sit on people’s shoulders, hover around their heads, and stare into your soul, as if they’re aware that their existence is a dirty little secret kept between the two of you.

Over the years, you’ve learned that the easiest way to deal with them is to treat them like an unsightly drunk: leave them alone and you’ll be left alone. Do not, under any circumstances, make eye contact. Do not acknowledge its existence no matter how scared you are. Of course, you’re not perfect; sometimes you see something so strange you can’t help but look. Especially as of late, it’s been becoming more and more difficult to hold yourself to your self-imposed standards.

It started with a small beige creature, with unsightly bulging eyes and translucent wings. It followed you everywhere, wings humming incessantly in your ear as it hovered around your shoulder. It eventually left after you refused to give it any attention, only to return with a swarm of its friends. Silence was a rarity. The noise only got louder as night approached, depriving you of a good night’s sleep.

It would be one thing if it ended there, but it only seemed to get worse as time passed by. If it wasn’t the constant buzzing, it’d be the strange things you’d find in front of your apartment door. Another deformed and wretched looking creature, sitting innocently on your welcome mat as if it has every right to be there. It burns a hole into your chest with its stare, presenting an toothy grin as it looks up to you.

By the time morning comes, it’s gone, leaving a single note in its place. It’s neatly folded in half, crisp black ink displaying a message that raises more questions than answers.

“Doesn’t it get tiring seeing them all the time? It’s only going to get worse the longer you wait. Why don’t you help me help you?”

Reading the note only adds to your sleep-deprived headache and dwelling on it isn’t going to make it better. Your eyes pass over the neat handwriting a few times before you fold it back up and leave it on your desk.

Truth be told, running on fumes for the last couple of weeks has taken a toll on you. You’ve fumbled simple tasks you’ve never messed up before; dropping items while restocking, giving the wrong amount of change, handing over the wrong pack of smokes. It doesn’t help that your manager is quick to reprimand you, yelling his head off until his face turns red. There’s no use explaining or drawing up excuses. It’s not like he’d understand. It’s not like anyone would understand.

Your walk home is an exhausting one. Your steps and sighs are heavy, unsure how else you’re supposed to get this pressure off your chest. You would close your eyes for some relief if you weren’t convinced you’d fall asleep while walking.

You can’t help but feel like something is watching you, or worse— following you. It’s different from the winged creatures. There’s no noise to accompany its presence but you can feel it in your bones – in the way your breath hitches, the way you're constantly looking over your shoulder for relief, but relief never comes.

A single street light flickers along the otherwise well lit street. It doesn’t feel right. It feels out of place compared to the rest of the road, but it is your normal walk home, and nothing’s ever gone wrong before.

Yet as you approach the light, the flickering becomes more erratic. It buzzes incessantly, growing louder, louder, nearly trembling until the bulb bursts into pieces.

Even with the absence of one streetlight, it shouldn’t be this dark. The road ahead fades into blackness as you walk forward. The darkness swallows everything whole. You try to walk back from where you came but the road you were walking on just seconds ago, is gone. Your hands tremble as you reach for your phone. You turn on the flashlight in an attempt to see anything. It doesn’t do much to help.

Your heart is starting to race now as you try not to let panic set in. In all your days taking this commute, you’ve never experienced something like this before. Your fingers shake as you attempt to go through your contacts and text your coworker. You’re not too far from the store, they’re probably close by. As your finger presses on the arrow to send the message, a red exclamation point pops next to your text. Unable to send.

Was this always a dead zone?

You take a deep breath but it does little to soothe your nerves. You flash your light forward, attempting to continue your walk home, hoping that you can rest in the comfort of your bed soon. With each step you take, the air becomes uncomfortably cold as it fills your lungs. The darkness seems to be everlasting until you can barely make out a figure in the distance.

The sigh of relief seems to leave your body too soon as you start running towards it, desperate for help only for your steps to diminish upon a closer look.

A woman stands in front of you, long black hair obscuring her face with some features peeking out between the strands. Her smile looks inhuman, jagged sharp fangs unnaturally stretching out her mouth with drool leaking out of the corners. She stands disturbingly still in her disheveled white robe, her left hand bandaged and holding a pair of rusty snips.

“Am I beautiful?” she asks.

You open your mouth to attempt to answer, but fear takes over. It’s as if cotton blooms in your throat, choking you out of a proper response. Your hesitation only agitates her, as the grip around her snips tighten. The moment you’re able to blurt out an answer, the blade flies past you, grazing your cheek to draw blood.

Before you can muster a reaction, the street returns as swiftly as it disappeared, the previously flickering street lamp returned to its former glory. The woman is nowhere to be found, but you can feel the burn from the cut she’s left behind on your face.

The silence cradles you, chills you with its embrace. You turn your head, left, right, take a few steps back before looking around again.

Any idea of a calm walk back is quickly thrown out the window. Desperation and dry air rushes into your lungs, harsh tramps slap against the pavement with a twinge of ache in your knees. Your legs burn as you push them to their absolute limit until you make it back to your apartment, clumsily scrambling through your key ring. You shake as you slam the key into the lock and turn.

As soon as you get inside your apartment, you turn the lock with a heavy clack before collapsing onto the floor. You take a moment to recollect yourself, hand on your chest to steady your heaving as you swallow to alleviate the dryness in your throat.

You jolt back into a panic when the sound of footsteps pass by, stopping right in front of your apartment.

Knock.

Your heart stills as you stare at the door. For a moment you swear it stares back.

Knock.

Time stands still as you hold your breath, desperately hoping that whoever’s outside leaves.

A pen scribbles on your door for a moment, before the crisp sound of paper folding flits past your ears. With a gentle glide, a note slides under your door, landing right at your feet.

“That looks like a rough cut. Are you sure you can keep living like this? What if it only gets worse? Help me help you. I can make them all disappear.” On the back is an address, which upon a quick search, leads to a monastery on the outskirts of Tokyo.

You look back at your door, trembling as you contemplate looking through the peephole.

With the gentlest steps you can muster, you approach the door, pressing your hand against it for balance as you look into the peephole.

Nobody’s there. Still, you tremble.

—

You spend hours scouring the web to find anything about the monastery, which ends up with you on some seedy forums. Other users post about their experiences with spirits possessing them, all healed by a monk who goes by Geto-sama.

“I couldn’t get any sleep for months and Geto-sama healed me in a moment’s time!”

“This spirit was following me for weeks and I thought I was losing my mind. Geto-sama’s the only person who believed me and gave me the help I needed.”

“Geto-sama truly is a saint sent from above. He was kind and reassuring throughout the entire spirit removal process, and it was completely painless. I can finally feel like myself again.”

It’s nothing but pages upon pages of reviews saying how this Geto-sama is a miracle worker, nothing short of a God. The more you read, the more uneasy you feel. It seems too good to be true. You do your best to find something, anything resembling a bad or even neutral review, but your search is fruitless.

Maybe it’s the lack of sleep, maybe it’s the burning desire for a day of peace, but after reading countless testimonials you start to believe he can help you.

Maybe you could be convinced.

—

The heel of your shoes clack louder with each step you take up the stairs leading to the monastery. A heavy sigh leaves your lips as you stare at the large wooden doors in front of you. It takes a decent amount of effort to push it open, creaking slightly as it reveals a dimly lit room.

You’re not too sure what to expect of this so-called savior. No matter how hard you looked, you couldn’t find any pictures of the man in question. None of the reviews went much into detail about the process, just that all their problems were solved. He is supposedly kind, but it doesn’t seem to dull your nerves as you stand in the dark room.

You can make out a few things: pale bamboo flooring, intricate latticework windows with dark mahogany accents, and a man wearing a Buddhist robe standing at the back of the room.

He steps towards you, his face becoming clearer as he gets closer.

“What brings you here, little one?”

You know why you’re here, but the words dissipate in your throat as it sinks in that you recognize this man. The memory rushes back into your head; the cafe, the strange worm, his confrontation, the stolen glances.

Your mind races a million miles a minute, your heart beating a little harder, a little faster. Every nerve in your body is telling you to run but fear keeps you frozen. You’re barely able to mutter a weak plea,

“P-please don’t hurt me.”

Gentle fingertips hold your chin, tilting your head up to face him.

“I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to save you.” His thumb delicately brushes against your bottom lip as he repeats himself. “Now tell me, why are you trembling so much?” Your lip quivers as he tilts your chin to meet his gaze.

“Y-You. You’re the one that sent them after me, aren’t you? You’ve been leaving those notes at my door. I-I don’t know how but-”

He interrupts you with a melodramatic sigh.

“And what if I did?” A ball forms in your throat as you struggle to string your thoughts into cohesive sentences, only able to let out a meek,

“Why?” Your body trembles as you take a step back.

“Why not?” he retorts with a sly smile that sends a chill down your spine.

“W-what do you want?” You take long steps back until your body is pressed against the door. Geto follows, making slow strides until he’s right in front of you. He’s so close you can see the rise and fall of his chest, the individual strands of obsidian that frame his face.

You try to open the door but it’s locked shut. He slowly steps towards you, your back pressing against the door.

His expression shifts, looking displeased as you struggle to escape.

“Are you leaving now?” He asks in a tone that is clearly meant to mock you, pouting his lips to feign concern. He grabs your hand as you continue your failed attempts to pull the door open. “And what are you going to do when you get home?”

He doesn’t need to hear your answer; he can see it written on your face as your eyes shift between him and the grip on your wrist. A mix of uncertainty, fear, and helplessness. He knows he holds all the power. Who’s going to believe you? Who else can you turn to?

“Don’t you want to be saved from these evil spirits?” His hand gently caresses your cheek before sliding carefully down your neck.

“Don’t you want to have a full night’s rest?” His hand continues to wander down, his arm wrapping around your waist. His face gets dangerously close to your face before he whispers, “To not live in fear?”

His gaze holds you still. When you can find it in yourself to look away, his hand holds your chin and forces your eyes to meet his. You shouldn’t be here – a realization you’ve made far too late. Like a snake wrapping around his prey, you’re well into his trap, ripe for the taking. There is no escape. So with a tightness in your chest, and a tremble in your voice, you let out a soft,

“Y-yes.”

“Then help me,” His fingers grab onto the zipper of your skirt before pulling it down, “help you.”

His hand slips into your underwear, slowly stroking your folds before drawing languid circles on your clit.

You try to push him away, grab his arm to move him off of you, which only causes him to tease you more. There’s nowhere to escape with Geto imposing his body onto yours, pushing you further against the wall.

“Just take what I give you and I can make them all go away.” The warmth of his breath lingers by your ear. Tension builds in your chest as you grow unsure of what to do, but there is one thing you are sure of.

You’re tired of fighting, tired of persevering.

Your grip on his arm loosens, which he takes as an answer.

“Don’t worry, you’re in good hands.” He looks pleased with himself, looking through you with heavy lidded eyes.

His hand moves painfully slow, his fingers occasionally slipping into your hole just to slide back out. Your legs squeeze together at the intrusion, your breaths becoming labored the more he plays with your cunt. A soft moan escapes you, and Geto perks up upon hearing.

“Oh?” His lips form a devilish grin before slipping his fingers in all the way. “Let me hear more of you.”

He scissors his fingers inside you, his thumb reaching to play with your clit. The stretch drives you insane as you lean your head back to let out a shaky moan. He slowly starts to pump his fingers inside, lewd sounds of his fingers pumping your wet cunt echoing in the empty room.

You hate how good it feels. His fingers reach places you never could, fill you up more, and hit that special spot that has you seeing stars with startling accuracy. You cover your mouth with your hand, embarrassed at the obscene noises escaping you only for Geto to move it away.

“Don’t make me repeat myself. I want to hear more of your cute voice.” He looks into your eyes with a piercing gaze before picking up the pace. You can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze, but Geto’s hand grips your cheeks before turning your head to face him.

The debauched expression on your face sends blood flowing to his cock. He wants to see more: your face contorting from pleasure, the bounce of your tits as he fucks you, his cum leaking out of your poor quivering hole. Just the thought is enough to drive him crazy. His other hand makes its way to your clit, drawing tight circles. You can’t hold back your moans, the tension in your core building as he continues to fuck you with his fingers.

“G-Geto-sama!” Your hands clench into the fabric of his robe, desperate for balance as your orgasm washes over your body.

“That’s more like it.”

Once his fingers are out of you, you slide against the wall before dropping onto the floor. Your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest; you’re not sure if you can take any more.

“There’s more work to be done.” Geto smirks as he looks at his hands, admiring the way your arousal glistens on his fingers.

He slides the top of his robe off his shoulders, revealing his toned arms and hints of a chiseled body. His hands press on your inner thighs to spread your legs before him. Heat rushes to your face as you try to close them shut, only for him to spread them apart further.

“Don’t be shy.”

With the grace, or lack of, that’s unbecoming of a monk, he buries his face into your cunt. His tongue feels foreign as he licks your folds before making his way to your clit. Unlike the cool and composed air he had when he was fingering you, the way he eats you out is primal. It’s filthy, how he spits on your cunt before going back in with a grin on his face.

Your back arches off the floor as he continues, tension building in your stomach with each passing moment. His hands spread your folds apart as he gets a better look at your cunt before twirling his tongue around your clit.

Your hand hesitantly hovers over his head before his hand grasps yours and presses it against his head.

“Eager now, are we?” He laps at your juices before pressing a finger into your hole, achingly slow.

Your labored breaths become soft moans as he indulges further. His tongue makes lewd noises as he traces your folds before sucking on your clit. Tension builds in your core as he gradually picks up the pace, his fingers going faster and hitting deeper, his tongue drawing tighter circles.

“G-Geto-sama, please I’m getting close!”

He abruptly pulls away, heavy breaths escaping him as he wipes the mixture of your arousal and his spit off his face with his sleeve.

“Then beg.”

“H-huh?” His response sends blood rushing to your face, your cheeks feel like they’re on fire.

His fingers tease your hole, shallowly inserting one in before removing it. He’s agonizingly slow and he knows it’s driving you crazy. He takes great pleasure in seeing the embarrassment strung across your face.

“G-Geto-sama… Please, please-”

“Please…?”

“Let me cum.” you whimper pathetically, attempting to rut your hips against his hands for some much needed release.

“What was that? I didn’t hear you.” He takes his hand away from your body, staring you down with a smile.

“P-please let me cum!” The words slide off your tongue with ease this time around, desperation riddling your voice.

“That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” The sound of shifting fabric fills your ears as he removes the rest of his garments and tosses them off to the side.

Nothing could have prepared you to see his body in its entirety. His robes did him a disservice, hiding his toned muscles, slightly glistening with a sheen of sweat. Your eyes trail over his stomach, wandering lower until they reach the base of his cock. A chill crawls up your spine, trying to fathom how something so large is going inside of you.

He catches your expression as his hand wraps around his cock, giving it a couple of pumps before lining it up with your hole.

“Don’t be scared, little one. I promise you’ll feel good soon.” It enters you slowly, filling you up inch by inch. You’ve never felt this full, there’s no way your toys could ever compare to the real thing. The size, the warmth, the way it throbs inside you.

Geto lets out a breathy groan once he bottoms out. Your walls wrap around him so tightly, as if your body is begging him to cum inside you.

It takes every ounce of self control in his body to not rut into you at a dizzying pace. He wants to savor this, building you up only to have you fall apart in his arms. The desire to ruin you, to keep you wrapped around his finger burns hot in his chest. He steels himself before starting with slow strokes, his breathing labored.

His hands reach for your blouse, ripping the buttons off their threads as they scatter across the floor. Deft fingers make their way to your bra, tugging down to reveal your chest. His hands are warm, almost like they’re melting into your skin as he plays with your breasts, fingers drawing circles around your nipples. Your moans only get louder as he continues to explore your body. His fingers pinch your nipples and an involuntary squeal escapes your lips.

He leans in towards your ear before slyly whispering, “You need to be louder if you wish to be saved.”

You don’t have a chance to respond as he rams his hips into you, striking a spot that has you seeing stars. His pace is relentless, heat building in your stomach with each stroke. It’s hard to form any cohesive thoughts, much less sentences, when you’re chasing a high on his cock.

“Work harder for your salvation, little one.” he teases.

And you do.

You moan his name like a mantra, press your hips harder into him, chasing your own high. You bring him into an embrace, your nails scratching his back as an offering.

“You’re holding me so tight- it’s like you want to bear my child.”

“W-wait-” Panic strikes your chest but Geto strikes his hips harder into you, cutting you off.

“Is that what you want?” he coos, gently tracing your jaw with the back of his hand before tilting your chin to face him. “That’s why you came here, right?”

You want to say no, that you came here to stop being haunted by spirits, but every part of your body is melting in pleasure, screaming yes. It’s impossible to even articulate an answer, your mouth only speaking in slurred moans and pants.

The sound of your moans is music to his ears. His lips press against your neck before biting down, earning a yelp from you in surprise.

“I’ll give you exactly what you want.” he whispers in your ear, his hips striking into you harder.

“W-wait, Geto-sama, please!” you attempt to plead, only to sound more like a sultry moan.

“I’ve waited long enough,” he groans into your ear.

His dizzying pace is hard to resist, as you feel yourself getting close. With a few more thrusts you feel your walls clamp around him, waves of ecstasy washing over your body. Geto follows soon after with a choked moan, warmth filling your insides.

Geto removes himself from you shortly after, admiring the way his seed leaks from your hole.

As he revels in the mess he’s made of you, he’s already conjuring up plans to bring you back to him. How should he torture you next? What pathetic expression will you wear when you seek his help?

You’ll be back soon enough. He’ll make sure of it.

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