#inevitably. forever and always. and so on and so forth

[sttoru]

plsplsplspl soft intimate sex with satoru:(

 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. gojo satoru x female reader. smut, pwp. unprotected. praise kink. spooning position. crēampie. cōckwarming. reader gets called ‘baby, pretty, sweetheart, princess’

“it’s okay, baby, i know,” satoru whispers words of comfort in your ear from behind. one of his arms is wrapped around your waist to keep your body close, the other circles your thigh, holding up your leg so his cock could slide in and out smoothly.

you’ve both just woken up from an afternoon nap, needy for each other’s touch. your lover’s raspy voice paired with his bedhead has been an irresistible combination.

satoru wasted no time in pulling your shorts down and freeing his erection from its confines. he went from rolling his hips against the fat of your ass and fondling your tits under your shirt, to burying his fat dick all the way up your cunt.

he’s so soft—so caring. his butterfly kisses make you drowsy again, the tingly sensations running from your face to your nape, and back down to your shoulders and upper arms. “let it out, yeah—good girl. don’t be shy,” satoru chuckles softly as he grinds his cock upwards, tip prodding at that sweet spot that makes your toes curl.

your eyes are half-lidded and blurry. you’re feeling so good and loved, so pleased and happy to have a partner like him. “right there, ‘toru,” you whimper quietly once you feel the head of his dick rub back and forth on the deepest parts of your velvety insides. satoru happily obliges, hugging your body even tighter to his chest before burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“here, baby?” the white-haired man asks, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine as it ghosts over your skin. he keeps his dick balls deep inside you and switches to slow and shallow strokes, “y’re so pretty. you always know jus’ how to take it. so, so, so good.”

your hands are scrambling to hold onto the white sheets. you can’t physically take the amount of pleasure you’re getting, that inevitable peak gets closer and closer. your hips involuntarily jolt back against satoru, reciprocating his gentle thrusts. a big hand reaches out to yours that’s tugging at the covers, slender fingers intertwining with your own.

“m’sgood,” you mumble incoherently through a soft whimper. your back is positioned in a nasty arch that makes satoru’s dick tingle. he sighs against your nape before allowing his tongue to wet the skin, sucking on the same spot soon after. he does the same to your sensitive ears and neck—covering you with his love while also filling your body with the same.

satoru holds your hand tightly, squeezing it every now and then to reassure you. “i love you so much, y’know that, right?” he says in a gentle tone. he’s confessed his love to you so many times before, though he always makes it sound like it’s his first time doing so.

“i’m never letting you go, ever,” your partner promises before leaning over your shoulder to catch your lips in a kiss. satoru’s tongue sweeps over your bottom lip before rolling around in your warm mouth. his hips don’t stop, cock repeatedly appearing and disappearing inside of your pussy. the pace never escalates to make the moment last longer.

“mhmm— wanna b-be with you forever,” you mutter against his glossy lips, feeling safe and protected in satoru’s embrace like this. all you’re feeling, hearing and smelling is him. that’s what peace is for you. as long as you got him, you’re going to be just fine.

satoru smiles at your words. you feel so perfect around him, your cunt molded to fit his cock whenever he pleases, remembering its shape and allowing it to ruin your insides. “of course, sweets. i’ll treat you so well, ‘kay? you can count on me,” he comforts you with a forehead kiss.

“pretty girl. you’re perfect,” satoru continues to praise you like no other. his free hand runs over the small of your back and back to your thigh, keeping a gap between them so his cock can move a bit more freely. “let me hear your cute moans, c’mon. fuck, y’ turn me on so much,” he sighs, not knowing what he’d do without you.

satoru is obsessed with all of you. the combination of your personality and looks is heavenly. his lips never stop distracting you, his tender kisses covering your entire upper body. the lovey dovey atmosphere in the room never dulls even once.

“ah, ‘toruu, hnghh—can’t last f’ any longer,” you moan, your eyes nearly rolling back. your lover is all the evidence needed to let you know that sex doesn’t have to be rough to be good. he can make you cum for an infinite amount of times by simply grinding his hips against you—changing his techniques every now and then.

rolling his hips in small circles or simply pressing his cock all the way inside your cunt and then prodding at your sweet spots, is all what’s needed to make you feel like you’re on cloud nine.

“aww, my poor baby. can’t hold it in f’me?” satoru pouts before kissing your temples lovingly. he caresses your hip, other hand still not letting go of your hand. there’s such a deep connection between you two—no one can ever sever it. that strong bond feels more intimate when you’re merged into one like this.

“nooo, can’t,” you shake your head and whine about how close you are. satoru nods at your needy words and dips a hand down to rub your clit. his middle and ring finger move around the small bundle of nerves in circles. “khehe, that’s okay. let’s cum together,” he whispers as kisses find their way down your jawline.

you hum in agreement, little moans filling satoru’s ears as you get closer to your climax. your body trembles and heats up, your tummy tingles and tenses up. satoru’s in the same situation as you, his low moans turning into hisses and even quiet whines against the skin of your shoulder.

he holds you close, preparing both of you to reach your long awaited releases. “sh—shit, ‘m g’nna pull out, baby—give me a second,” you hear him whimper under his breath as his hand tightens its grip around yours. he’s nearly crushing your bones.

you don’t give him time to even think of pulling his cock out. you want to relive the sensation of having his seed spread inside of your cunt, overflowing until it’s dirtying the sheets. “no- ‘toru. inside, please,” you beg quietly as your pussy locks around his cock. your walls cling onto his dick, yearning to milk his heavy balls dry of every drop.

satoru gasps and hisses, trying to speak up, but getting overpowered by his own noises of desperation. “fuck, all right, princess. as you wish,” his voice is husky and deep as he pushes his cock in to the base before dumping his load inside you.

ropes of hot cum come out quickly, one after the other, filling you with a hot creamy liquid. you can feel every drop being drained inside your spasming cunt. your own cum mixes with his, creating a lewd mess between your thighs.

“th-thank you,” you whisper tiredly. your body relaxes in satoru’s embrace. you’re trembling due to the intense aftershocks and your lover wastes no time into kissing it better. your forehead is peppered with small pecks, the rest of your face following.

satoru giggles at your fucked out state. he gives you a head pat and nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. you can feel him grinning uncontrollably against your skin—the joy emitting from him is contagious.

“any time,” he sighs. you can feel his cock softening after that release, still nestled deep inside of you. he has no intention of pulling out, especially since it’s so comfortable. you let him cum inside you and thus he’ll do everything to keep that hot load buried deep inside your cunt.

you can nearly fall asleep like this with satoru. you have zero complains and simply need to relax after what just happened. perhaps take another nap or two.

the white-haired man kisses your shoulder and rubs your lower tummy, enjoying the softness, “i’m gonna prepare us a warm, relaxing bath in a second. let’s just cuddle some more, baby.”

[cellophaine]

Shy

Kinktober Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Warnings: Abs riding – a hint of sub/dom dynamic, sweet talk, praise kink, cum eating.

Author's Note: I finally got around to writing this prompt that was on my list for forever! I just want to go 😖👹 on his delicious yummy abs holy crap somebody take the wheel 😵‍💫

*Everything in italic is flashback*

GIF made by me.

You knew how it went. It always started out innocent until one of you wanted something from the other. 

… damn him and his abs. 

Matt was shirtless, reclining on the spacious couch with you lying on his side, your head on his chest. He was laughing at a joke on the TV, but you couldn't register what was on since you had tuned it out a while ago, ever since you placed your hand on his midriffs. You leisurely caressed the dibs and ridges, feeling the smooth skin with little bumps of tiny scars. Your legs squeezed together to relieve the tension of something that was missing. You squirmed a little in your position; your mind wandered far away from the cozy living room, wondering if you could make yourself come on his–

"What are you thinking about?"

You blinked, lifting your head to look at him. His unsighted gaze had turned to where you were, a small grin on his lips that softened his face with all the faint wrinkles. 

"You seem distracted, and you're squirming a lot."

You put your hand on his chest, moving it in a soothing pattern to ease his concern.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to distract you. You can go back to–"

"No no, you can tell me. What's wrong?"

His hand gently squeezed at your side, imploring you to be honest with him.

"Nothing's wrong. I just … I wonder if– you know what? It's really stupid."

You tried to sit up, but his hand stopped you. Instead, Matt pulled you closer so you would sprawl on top of his sturdy frame; his other hand gripped your chin to keep you facing him, making it impossible to hide.

"Tell me."

You took a deep breath, knowing there was no point in delaying the inevitable.

"I want to … ride your … abs."

Matt didn't say anything for a moment, and you felt your stomach drop in anxiety over a stupid proposal.

"Never mind I said anything. It's–"

"I'm surprised you didn't ask me sooner, sweetheart."

The smirk on his face was sinful, and you knew you were in for a day spent in bed with him. Or on the couch. Either way, you wouldn't mind.

And now, here you were, moving on top of him fervently like there was a fire you couldn't put out. Your arousal painted a sheer coat of translucent essence on his abdominals. You moved back and forth, swivelling your hips, revelling in the effortless glides of your wet folds on his smooth skin with all the pronounced definition underneath. It tied a knot in your lower belly in a foreign style, and you eagerly worked yourself up to unravel it. His hands grabbed at either side of your thighs, helping you move with ease. The grasp wasn't painful but tight like a pair of shackles, anchoring you to his heavenly body. Matt was laid back, completely in control, while you lost your mind over the strange feeling, your head thrown back with needy moans spilling out of your mouth. You repositioned yourself to move your hips just right, making your clit rub on the dibs and rise. The repeated friction drew more arousal from your core, leaking juice all over his muscles with your frantic movement. That fresh wave of pleasure hit you, causing your face to burn with the embarrassment of doing something so filthy. So debauchery. Your hips slowed as you held back your moans, and your head dipped slightly in self-consciousness. Matt's hand came up and searched for your face. He gripped your chin, pulling at your bottom lip so it would relax. 

"Don't get shy on me now, sweetheart. Get what you want from me."

As if he could sense your hesitation still, he persisted.

"Don't think about it too much. Stay with me. Can you do that for me?"

You shyly nodded, which earned you an approving smile from him. You resumed the motion, working yourself up again. Matt's hand slipped underneath your sweatshirt, covering one breast and kneading with his calloused palm. The rhythm of your breathing became short and heavy, unsteady with each glide of your sensitive bundle of nerves on his abs. His fingers teased your nipple, playing with the aching nub. You whimpered, feeling overwhelmed with your senses being toyed with under his influence.

"That's it. That's my good girl."

His praise went to your head, sending a pleasant wave of bliss to your core, encouraging you to chase that high. You moaned wantonly as Matt tweaked your nipple; his hand on your ass pulled you towards the definition of his abs, magnifying the sensation. Hearing you let yourself go seemed to affect Matt too. His chest and neck were flushed, and his lips parted as he took a deep breath, taking in the scent of your arousal. His cock was so hard it ached, creating a tent in the sweatpants he wore. You moved faster on top of him, and you were close; Matt could feel it. Upon your desperate whines, he flexed his abs; his hands helped you move faster and faster. The dam broke, and you came undone with a choked cry, your hands braced on his chest to hold yourself up. You caught your breath, his hand tenderly stroking at your hips, coaxing you down from the orgasm. Your eyes fluttered, feeling hazy from the exertion. But they snapped wide open when you saw Matt gathering the wetness on his stomach and bringing the fluid to his lips. You watched as he sucked on his fingers, moaning at the taste. Even after what you just did, you still couldn't help but blush. 

Matt pulled you down with him, unabashedly searching for your lips with his own. You could taste yourself on him, and you shivered at how it turned you on. When you parted to pull air into your lungs, Matt whispered against your lips, a mischievous glint hidden in his tone. 

"We should do that more often."

You felt your face heat up and couldn't help the giggle that escaped at the suggestion. You buried your face in Matt's chest, closing your eyes as you felt the rise and fall of his ribcage and the beat of his heart underneath your cheek, steady as ever, grounding you.

*Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!*

[rosemorningstar]

Alright so

Boethiah “the font of inspiration” who calls upon mortals to leave their mark upon the world no matter the form.

Hircine “who is half the conscience of men” meaning the half of mortal minds that follows instinct and the drive for survival.

Malacath “who speaks all languages sideways” meaning he is a universal entity whose name and purpose has become distorted over time. Alternatively, he twists words to inspire rage.

Mehrunes Dagon “whose mistress is the blazing sun” meaning he was created by and serves the will of the Magna Ge who brought him forth.

Sheogorath “the comforter of men” meaning he who facilitates dissociation or a break from reality; taking mortals away from the pains of the world via madness. It’s a comfort to be free of reality but the side effects vary.

Molag Bal “whose breath is most foul” meaning the commands he speaks upon the mortal realm are palpable yet undesirable; a domineering root of suffering.

Namira “whose works works endure forever” meaning her design for existence is inescapable and inevitable aka entropy and decay.

Mephala “who threads the needle with the hair of wives” meaning she manipulates the bonds of loyalty to her ends.

Clavicus Vile “who always answers” meaning he’ll make a deal with anyone but the terms won’t necessarily be fair.

Nocturnal “whose touch is mink” meaning her blessing is soft, concealing, and expensive to attain.

Peryite “who’s foundation is falling rock” meaning his power is based in the same forces that move erosion and the passage of time. Incremental but nonetheless potent.

Azura “the rim of all holes” meaning her power is what facilitates transformation and dramatic change on a singular level. The movement of an object or being to dramatically different circumstances. A goddess of exodus and transmutation.

Meridia “who contains the plenum” meaning her sphere is one of wholeness and abundance. Something she offers at a high price.

Hermaeus Mora “who holds the paper to the light” meaning he reveals the hidden truths beneath the surface.

Sanguine “who tastes the shaven fruit” meaning he consumes mortals at their most vulnerable; when they’re inebriated or at the height of their pleasure.

Vaermina “weaver of the panoply” meaning she designs mortal delusions; the fantastical fears we react upon in reality.

[storiesoflilies]

Of Angels and Curses

Synopsis - In a world where Angels and Curses are locked in a never ending war, an unsuspecting seraph becomes entangled with the very thing she is fated to eradicate.

Pairing - Curse!Toji Fushiguro x f!Angel!Reader. Curse!Ryomen Sukuna x Reader. Angel!Satoru Gojo x Reader.

Warnings - General descriptions of violence and injuries, eventual smut.

A/N: Aaaaand here we go!! I’m posting this earlier than I was supposed to in honor of Toji’s birthday. Fun fact - Toji and I share the same birthday :) Ko-Fi.

Next part — Chapter 2

-•-

Chapter 1

The sky was falling ever so softly.

She’d spent so long staring upwards at it, utterly astounded, because it never occurred that way when she imagined it in her head. There was supposed to be an all-consuming deafening rumbling, chunks of blue tumbling down from above, and fiery meteors the size of moons hurling themselves into the chaos of a dying Earth.

But no, it was more like a hundred million and one glowing embers fluttering down like beautiful dying butterflies.

Is this what it’s like when Angels fall?

Y/N thought it was a more peaceful way to go; instead of a violent plummet into the dirt to trade their lives for another one as a Curse. It was a nice thought, naive even, because seraphim were not kind nor merciful to those who they deemed had turned against them. Stupid, wishful thinking, a selfish desire for the world to be anything but exactly what it is; sin was as inevitable as the sun, rising and falling with time in a terrible terrible cycle. She’d seen the streets run crimson like glimmering rubies as Angel’s wings were torn from their bones and flesh, heard their screams from afar as they begged and pleaded not to be cast out. It was always the same; Heaven is, and always would remain, divinely perfect, and it would forever be ruthless in its pursuit of maintaining it. Free will is a beautiful thing, certainly, so long as one made only the right choices.

She shook her head, cool ash flaking off her hair, and picked up her katana from where it lay beside a Curse’s corpse. Satoru Gojo had trusted her with hunting down this particularly erratic Second Layer Curse that had been capturing and torturing wounded Angels. Indeed, she could see the remnants of its latest mangled victim underneath its grotesque blubbery body; a once living soul now just an unrecognizable face beaten into a bloody feathery mess. Maybe they had once sinned, perhaps not, but what did it matter? They were just another tally to be scratched on a plaque, a life reduced to a single scratch on a stone already marred by millions of markings.

Y/N briefly considered attempting to retrieve the body for a proper burial, but it was already far too late in the day. The last rays of the sun threw a brilliant shade of red across the sky, a low hum of anticipation in the air that whispered of all the fury and violence of thunder and lightening; night would soon fall to unleash the lethal Curses that dwelled in the deepest layers of Hell. If she didn’t hurry and ascend to Heaven, then she would bear witness to the unholiest of rituals, as the Earth would crack open beneath her and the molten fire of Sukuna’s wrath would burst forth and consume her body and soul.

She kneeled in front of the Curse; its forked tongue rolling out of a toothless mouth, lidless eyes tipped backwards into its head, and blackened blood dripping from the fatal wound right through its brain. Y/N’s thumb squelched uncomfortably as she pressed it firmly into the rubbery skin of its forehead, and murmured a quick prayer for the deceased seraph, and a blaze of golden light engulfed both corpses. Gojo had taught her how to use her divine energy to smite dead Curses, just to make sure they won’t try again in his own words, and this power could also be extended to cremate their own.

The ground groaned and rumbled, as if protesting against its part to play in the cycle of violence, serving as a sinister warning for her to hurry. A wave of panic washed over her, and Y/N closed her eyes; grasping to control her lackluster wisps of divine energy, and cried out into the seemingly empty plane of the Unlimited Void.

But empty it was not, for Satoru Gojo sees and hears all within his domain.

Within an instant, she felt herself floating into and across the Void as Gojo’s essence consumed and caressed her soul; still as exhilarating and frightening as the first time she had tepidly stepped through this plane of existence. And Y/N could feel all of him, but could do nothing but helplessly travel through the cosmos of his own making. Gojo was like a turbulent ocean, ever-changing and impatient, but perplexingly beautiful; a ticking clock waiting to chime a tune of misery to signal his arrival against his enemies. Not many Angels were privy to ascending into Heaven this way, because Gojo simply didn’t want to do it for just anybody. He was like a fussy child picking only the best things to play with; his trust the ultimate game to win, and many had tried. Y/N didn’t think it was so complex, because she understood fear in a way Gojo could never, and ordinary Angels couldn’t face the fact that their souls would be bared so openly and judged by the Six Eyes himself.

Y/N blinked, and found herself in front of him.

“Cutting it a little close, eh?”

Satoru Gojo stood with his corded forearms crossed over each other, tall and broad form leaning back against an iridescent golden pole of the Gates of Heaven; a marble statue carved directly from God’s hands that demanded complete attention, a perfect vision of beauty that Y/N could never tire of looking at it. He wore a bemused smirk on his face, clearly relishing in her reliance of his power to save her from certain doom, but Y/N liked to think he didn’t completely look down on her. Perhaps she could give him the benefit of the doubt; he had been waiting for her outside the city, and maybe expected her to ascend to Heaven normally, which required an Angel to fly upwards from the Earth and pass through each of the seven layers of Heaven. Each of these layers were well defended by legions of seraphim ready to lay their lives against imminent attacks, bolstered by colossal golden gates similar to the one guarding the main city.

“But you’ve done it, right?” He continued, his eyes completely focused on her as she approached.

Gojo often asked questions he already knew the answers to, something he did with her and his other favorites; a way of settling nerves and putting them at ease around him, as if he hadn’t rooted through every crack and crevice of their minds, pretending he didn’t know them more intimately than they probably did themselves.

“It’s done.”

He hummed appreciatively, the hundreds of eyes decorating his wings blinking intermittently to give an illusion of twinkling cerulean lights, and extended his hand for her to take. Y/N accepted, refusal simply not an option, her fingers intertwining with his as he dropped the infinite barrier coating his body, and let him lead her through the Golden Gates and into the city; their kingdom far above the Earth – where no Curse had ever managed to breach. 

Heaven was a seemingly never-ending city; a labyrinth of buildings and twisting pathways built from white marble, with pearlescent towers of varying heights dotted throughout. – a perfect pristine canvas of glittering white diamonds. Many Angels would live together in each of these towers, forming extended families to be born and raised together for generations. Cool air washed through every twist and turn of the city, flowing between trees with silver leaves bearing the sweetest figs; which grew intermittently between any sliver of space between the rock, and some were even as tall as the towers themselves.

“Gojo, couldn’t you see the sky below?”

“Hmm?”

“The sky was burning before I left, it was falling.”

“Ah yes, well… that’s no surprise. Geto has become a Curse, and he is past my sight now. It makes sense the first thing he did was kill the Sky Sentries, so I suppose it’s a good thing you called for me through the Void.”

She froze, and he stopped with her.

Geto is, was, Gojo’s second in command; his most trusted confidant and closest ally. If he had fallen, then there would be many other Angels who would have willingly fallen with him. The Sky Sentries guarded the sky of the Earth, the first layer of Heaven; they stood at the frontline of the war, warriors that couldn’t afford to rest, for come nightfall it was a bloodbath of Curses attempting to breach the first barrier.

So many of us are dead. More lines on the wall.

“Gojo, I-,” Y/N paused, unsure of what to say. “I’m sorry.”

At this, he released her hand and turned to face her. “Why? He made his choice.”

Gojo turned away again, staring down at the ground beneath his feet like he was seeing right through it to the Earth and scorched skies, and scoffed loudly. It was a seething sound of a betrayal that had cut him deeply, and it was a promise of violence and vengeance. Nobody escaped punishment, especially not from the Six Eyes, and Geto was certainly not above consequences.

“You know, we were all given free will. It shouldn’t surprise you, when an Angel - any Angel - falls into darkness and becomes a Curse,” he stated with finality, a sharp edge of a steel knife in his voice.

“But, Geto was our family,” Y/N breathed out shakily, her sadness starting to bubble out uncontrollably. “I didn’t know he was changing, I never noticed anything was wrong.”

“Neither did I,” Gojo whispered defeatedly, a complete change in his tone, letting slip just a sliver of his hurt for someone else to see.

Geto and Gojo were born three centuries before Y/N, and became nigh inseparable; a perfect example of how strong the bond of comradery should be between Angels. She had first met Geto when he had started training her to fight, he’d still hadn’t risen to power back then, and they quickly became close. Of course, naturally Gojo took an interest in her as Geto’s pupil, and over the next two hundred years, Y/N had witnessed them rise through the ranks of the Angels; until they reached the pinnacle of power, their combined strength looming over them all like the omnipresent presence of God in Heaven – and yet, they still kept her within their circle. But Geto was different to Gojo, because he understood that strength wasn’t a gift distributed to everyone, and Y/N had seen him fight a fraction harder just to stand on par beside Gojo on the podium of divinity. He had become her brother; a pillar of strength in her life in a way that the Six Eyes could never be, someone who she could truly say would fight to the death for her if he thought her time had come too early.

Gojo was silent for a moment before continuing, “But the sky will heal, Shoku and her followers can do it. There’s always more of us ready to take each other’s place, you don’t need to worry about it anymore.”

He tenderly stroked her cheek smeared with dried Curse blood, watching as a stray tear escaped and ran down her face like a petulant child, and let out a great sigh as if it was the greatest inconvenience for him to witness her sadness. Y/N felt sheepish; how could she be so upset over a betrayer, a snake that had bitten the hand of someone who had thought it graceful and beautiful. Gojo’s great wings unfurled around them, his feathers tickling her exposed neck softly like a lover would, and his arms pulled her into an embrace.

“Im alright Satoru,” she sniffled after some time. “I just need to be alone, to clean myself and pray for him.”

“His soul is gone, you know that Y/N,” Gojo said softly, like she was a precious crystal he held in his palms, threatening to shatter at any moment.

“I don’t care, I need to put him to rest in some way, for my own peace.”

“Let me come with you then, when I return in the morning. You’re too exhausted to go and pray now.”

“Gojo, please. I need this.”

At this he let her go, his wings snapping back in place like they had been stung, and placed his hand on her head in a blessing. A soothing cool sensation spread all the way down from his palms, healing her weary bones and muscles; bathing her in the rarely tranquil ocean of his divine power, and she shuddered in both fear and relief. Some of his followers had gathered around them, eagerly awaiting their commander to follow into the ensuing battle at the First Gate; curiously glancing at the sight of the two of them, like they were forbidden art that nobody could look at for too long. She knew that he had to go; Gojo always went to battle when the last light left the Earth, even if he had already been fighting during the day. But such was the duty of the Six Eyes — always in the heat of battle, never tiring and never resting.

“Go and sleep,” he said, an order; daring her to refuse again. “I’ll see you in the morning. We can pray together then.”

“Be safe,” she whispered.

He nodded, and then vanished instantaneously, leaving Y/N alone surrounded by the watchful eyes of the other seraphim.

-•-

From light we are born, and to ashes we return. 

The beginning of a prayer uttered for those who had passed.

Who once was mighty and now fallen.

Y/N had recited these words many times over, but never once had she done so for a Curse.

Heavenly Father, may you guide our souls to peace in Paradise. 

She bathed in starlight and galaxies, and sank backwards into the bathing pool; sending her further into space, to a time and place where her brother hadn’t left her. Caked Curse blood swirled away in the holy water as she sank deeper, her eyes never closing as she stared up at the stars in the night sky.

Where we may all meet again. 

Y/N whimpered pitifully as she thought again of Geto in the depths of Hell, wondering if he was suffering as his once holy power was warped into something wicked and corrupt. Would he even look the same, would she recognize him if he materialized in front of her at this very moment; a snarling animalistic Curse like the one she had killed today. Or would he remain as he was like a blip in time, a frozen facade of happiness, but with only malice and sin left underneath it all?

To remain in your eternal light forever.

She emerged, water running down her face as her heart constricted painfully, and clasped her hands together and whispered, “Forgive him, oh please forgive him.”

What was else she supposed to do? Oh how she wished she could go back; maybe then she might have noticed if his eyes had tears of darkness in them, if he had laid there alone as the night full of terrors ushered and coaxed his soul to their side. Then she could have told herself what she was meant to do, instead of grieving for Geto like he was already dead like a ghost she would forever clutch on to; stuck reliving a trail of memories she once thought she knew most of, and now none at all. But if she looked into Gojo’s blue eyes, would she find a glimpse of the brother who lifted her on to his shoulders and raised her with dignity and kindness?

Enough, enough . 

Y/N climbed up the steps of the pool as droplets of stars cascaded down her hair, down between her thighs, and down to her feet. She wondered what sort of horrors were unfolding hundreds of thousands of leagues beneath her; if Gojo was striking down Curses with all the fury and might of a scorned lightning storm. She murmured silent prayers for the creatures who stood in his way, and for the seraphim whose lives would be lost as a consequence of Geto’s betrayal. Her feet tapped against the cool marble pathway leading from the pool to the back entrance of Gojo’s tower, and Y/N shook her wings free of any remaining water droplets that flung to her feathers. Her body was bare for all to see as she passed through the empty hallways, but she wasn’t concerned; all those who followed the Six Eyes had followed him into the night, into war. Gojo hadn’t deemed Y/N strong enough to fight during the night, and he never would; for his own selfish reasons, he was keeping her safe.

Her thoughts strayed to when he had openly embraced her in public, and knew that it would have added some truth to the rumor that they were more than just comrades. It was common for Angels that hadn’t found their soulmates to marry each other, as it unfortunately wasn’t always a guaranteed event during one’s lifetime; and of course new seraphim must be born to fight in the war. Since neither of them had found theirs as of yet, so many believed that they would eventually marry. Gojo had made numerous advances to court her over the past few decades, namely allowing her to stay within his tower, as well as hints during various conversations that he expected her to marry him when he finally did ask. Y/N knew that he was aware of her hope for her own soulmate, and that was the only reason he had graced her with his patience, but hope was dangerous in war – it was only a matter of time before he saved her from her own misery.

It would be the most practical thing to do, and Y/N truly did care for him, but was that really enough?

Satoru Gojo was an enigma. On the one hand, he was adored for his effortless displays of power as he could single-handedly decimate armies. On the other, what made him loved was also what made him feared; all he had to do was drag a seraph charged of sin into his Unlimited Void, and they would be helpless as he brutally tore through their minds in search of the truth. If found guilty, he would rip their wings from their backs himself, and then hurtle them towards Hell. Satoru Gojo was as revered as he was terrifying; like he had attained a status close to godliness. Why he had chosen her to be his, Y/N would never know; she could only accept him when he finally came calling for her.

Y/N shook her head, trying to banish all thoughts from her head, and slipped into her bed as her wet hair soaked through the pillow.

What if Geto shows himself tonight?

Perhaps she was right to mourn him, Gojo would strike him down for what he had done. Would Geto give reasons as to why he had sinned if he could speak properly? Y/N hoped so; whatever his answer, it could steel her resolve for the hard fight ahead. But for now, she attempted to empty her head of dark thoughts in an effort to sleep. She would have to be well rested to deal with the fallout of Geto’s betrayal; many new Curses would have been born from all the anguish he had caused.

Can I really hunt those who were my allies just this morning? 

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, hands clamped over her ears, and prayed the negativity and heartache away from her dreams.

-•-

A purple aura permeated Y/N’s room when she awakened, spilling in feverishly from outside the window, and an eerie silence from the previous night lingered and settled like dust. The battle for the sky must still be ongoing if no one was home yet, which meant it was as brutal as she dreaded it to be; for Gojo must have used his Hollow Purple for forcing the sky to change color. She felt fresh fear being thrown over her like a bucket of ice, as the possibility of more of her family dying hit her instantaneously. Y/N quickly donned a fresh set of armor; it was morning now, Gojo couldnt forbid her from descending to Earth since the moon and stars had vanished from sight – she was permitted to go and fight.

Wait.

Y/N froze.

It was Gojo’s voice in her head, his authority reverberating within her mind like a great ringing bell. A strange feeling gathered in the pit of her stomach; he never communicated telepathically with her. Was he trying to keep her from harm? Why wasn’t he allowing her to descend?

I’m coming to you.

Butterflies furiously erupted in her chest, and Y/N hurried outside the tower; the purple glow of the sky growing stronger the closer she got to the entrance of the tower, like a warning nobody could possibly ignore.

The streets outside were in chaos.

Wounded seraphim were being carried by other Angels from a large swirling blue portal at the farthest end of the street from her, and were immediately being tended to by Shoko’s followers. There was an acrid smell in the air; of anguish and death, the scent of suffering from Hell itself. Y/N spied Nanami Kento holding his blunted sword close to his chest, eyes closed as if he was deep in pain but keeping it hidden, as Shoko wrapped his bloodied arms with fresh bandages.

Before Y/N could push her way towards them, the crowd imploded with feverish excitement and shouting as the portal zapped shut, and she jumped back in fright. An unmistakable white head of hair was moving through the crowd, and the seraphim were singing with glee as they parted for their champion; a god splitting the sea, and holding back the oncoming tsunami of adoration. And then, Gojo finally came into view from where she stood, an indecipherable look upon his face as his eyes roamed over every seraphim in the crowd. His gaze inevitably locked onto her, and Y/N noted a crazed spark in his eyes that made her feel uneasy. But she was frozen in place, like prey helplessly watching a predator rushing towards it, as Gojo strode towards her; broad build dripping with Curse blood as he climbed the stairs, stopping just a step below her.

And then he kneeled in front of her, and the universe went quiet.

Y/N’s eyes widened, “Gojo, what are-”

He reached behind his back, procuring two katanas in his palms to her like they were an offering, but she knew exactly where they had come from. The blades were made of pure holy silver, diamonds and pearls encrusted on the hilt — unmistakably Geto’s weapons.

“Geto lost the right to these holy weapons when he betrayed us,” Gojo said as he turned the blades over in his hands, examining them with that same indecipherable look.

“He’s dead then?” Y/N breathed out shakily.

Gojo shook his head, “No, he escaped, but all his followers have been punished.”

She sucked in a breath.

So many more dead.

“These are yours now,” he continued. “If you’ll have them.”

The Six Eyes had never once kneeled for anyone. Y/N knew what was coming, what he was about to ask of her; but how and why had he decided so suddenly that now was the time? He stared up at her with those all knowing eyes, like he was privy to her thoughts whirling in her head, and maybe he was.

Let him go.

How could she? Her heart ached for a part of her soul she had never even met — and might never. Even if she did meet her soulmate, marrying Gojo would forever bind her to him, lest she would be cast out of Heaven for the sin of forsaking her marriage vows. Would he ever be able to make her move on and forget? Did he really know just how much he was asking her for? Her heart hammered in her chest; she wasn’t ready for this, not now, and maybe not ever.

He is Satoru Gojo. If he isn’t enough for you, then who else is?

“I promise to protect you from anything that would hurt you,” Gojo vowed, his voice low for words only meant for her. “I will uphold your virtue and strength, and I promise to stand by your side no matter what happens. I promise to end the Curse of Sukuna, and create a paradise for us and our children, even if it kills me.”

Never once had Satoru Gojo ever mentioned the possibility of his death; it was unnerving, unspeakable, unnatural. His usual saccharine tone was nowhere to be found, and it was deathly quiet all around them – every soul hanging on every word they spoke with bated breath.

“I promise to love you, but please… all I ask is for you to love me and accept me for all that I am, for who I’m going to become,” Gojo whispered, and for the first time in their centuries of friendship, Y/N could see desperation deep within his irises.

She breathed out, steeling herself from the heartache and loss settling deep inside her; her defeat was imminent, but she would rise again to take her seat on the throne beside him as his equal. The world jittered in anticipation as Y/N took both of Geto’s katanas in each of her hands, her knuckles turning white as she gripped their hilts. Gojo stared at her, pupils blown wide; from adoration for her or the heat of battle, she didn’t know.

“I accept you, Satoru Gojo.”

Nothing would ever be the same again.

-•-

[irondadfics]

Holiday Rec List.

Hi everyone, this is long overdue, but I promised so here's to starting off the New Year right with some fics for you to check out. I didn't add any descriptions, so check them out! Some are series, some require you to be logged into your ao3. These are in no particular order. You are sure to find something you will love. We've linked the authors where possible so be sure to check out their other works, encourage (not pressure) them to finish their in progress works please or even write new works! Trust me! Happy New Year!

So many awesome stories did not make this list because I didn't want to overwhelm anyone, but many are already in mind for another special rec list!.

I love you more than anything (bio dad au) - iron_spider

But Only Hope and Sorrows End - iron_spider

Lazarus, come forth - iron_spider

Four times peter cheated death (and one time he didn't) - iron_spider

A Life of Crime - intothestorm

Up Came the Sun - WhimsicalEthnographies

Hey Ragazzo - WhimsicalEthnographies

Becoming Belonging - sahiya

A Soft Place to Land - sahiya

The Third Option - Uncertainty_Principle

Men of Iron - Spdrmain

The Little Things - soupshep

First Wednesday of March - soupshep

You'll Always Get There First - soupshep

The Time Traveler's Mentor - Diaz_evan

Three Weeks, Two Days, Seven Hours - soupshep

Never Go Home Alone - Orphan Account

Here's to all New Beginnings - Gruoch Orphan Account

Even Children Get Older - LittleMissAgrafina

A Snapshot Moment - soupshep

Hold Your Breath While You're Safe - Gruoch Orphan Account

The Hearth - Sagemb

Everyday Superhero Verse - Stoneage_woman

College Applications: The Biggest Meme - Sagemb

The Long Way Back - Gruoch Orphan Account

Allston Christmas - Gruoch Orphan Account

Hard to Love - Groo_ock Orphan Account

Aperture - Gruoch Orphan Account

Holdfasts - Gruoch Orphan Account

I Am One of You Forever - Gruoch Orphan Account

Neon Liar (Hiding in Plain Sight) - isaDanCurtisproduction

Constant Internal [Spider] Screaming: Semi-Connected Scenes from a Graduating Senior’s Life - isaDanCurtisproduction

As Luck Would Have It - blondsak, whumphoarder

Poison Apple - whumphoarder

Inevitable - imgoingtocrash

Knowing (of everything she doesn't) - imgoingtocrash

287 Miles - imgoingtocrash

Out of Darkness - StarryKnight09

I Would Lay My Armour Down - losingmymindtonight

Webcams and Webshooters - losingmymindtonight

Call You Home - Madelinedear

The Guardian - Emily_F6

Survivor's Guide to The Galaxy - fanfic1892

A Little Late On the Blood Work - Pixiemage

With Kind Regards and Completely Serious Warning - jennylarner

The Chain - RayRox360

Was that a Star Wars reference, Dr. Stark? - Jen27ny

You Are My Sunshine - M4rmalade

I told you I had issues - Bergen

PS: If you make it here then awesome sauce! Send us your fave fics to read as well, you never know they may end up on a special rec list someday! No promises though! Thank you all! Have an awesome 2024 everyone!

[boydepartment]

idk what you can turn this into but jay asking for lip balm so you apply some on your lips and start making out with him

cherry- park jongseong oneshot

a/n: sorry this took a bit :( i was working on my spooktober and homework. also i hope this oneshot is okay. i’m not very good at like makeout scenes tbh :/ so i hope it’s okay :(

MASTERLIST

warnings- obv making out, probably cursing he’s americain - lowercase intended

wc- 150-250

yours and jay’s relationship was always sort of blurry. the perfect trope to describe you both was “not dating but DEFINITELY not just friends.”

it hadn’t even crossed the lines of friends with benefits either. it was a weird grey area where you both have shared kisses that you remembered and some that were hard to recall, and if someone talked to you to him the other would get inevitably jealous.

it was a weird blurry line that made your own vision hazy when you thought about it too much. being around your friend was intoxicating to you. god forbid he wore his glasses around you, or wore that cologne that smelled a little too good.

you sat at the kitchen table of his home, he had a break and was housesitting for his parents. you decided to join him due to not getting out of the house recently, too busy with school, and your only close friend being busy preparing for tour.

you chewed on your pencil as you read over the notes for your class, it was complicated and it stressed you out. you started writing again and your chewing was drawn to your lip. you always had this horrible habit, jay would always tell you to knock it off but he’d never tell you why. you’d just assumed that it was because it was bad for you, that it’d bust your lip open eventually.

noticing how chapped they were, you dug through your bag in search for some lip balm. you found your favorite and applied it(like a normal person.) you’ve had this same flavor for years, cherry. classic.

at the very same moment your friend walked in, he had just got back from a phone call and he leaned over the table to see what you were working on. jay didn’t have personal space when it came to you. his hoodie strings waving back and forth near you.

“molecular biology?”

you hummed and finished putting on your lip balm. jay must’ve smelled the cherry on your lips and looked down at you. taking off his glasses and setting them down on the table near your laptop.

“where do you get that chapstick anyways? they don’t sell out ever?” his tone almost came off as annoyed.

you kept writing and answered, “i don’t remember maybe like the convenience store down the street. i’ve had it forever. chapstick lasts me a long time.”

jay knew you’ve had it forever, everytime you put on that damn chapstick, he couldn’t help the thoughts that would run through his head. the smell enough drove him crazy. jay sat down next to you, fairly close and moved hair out of your face.

“can i have some then?”

your eyes were drawn away from your work and they met with his. his gaze was intense, especially when his eyes kept flickering from your eyes to your lips.

adorned in that fucking chapstick.

his hand was still softly caressing your face, you grabbed the collar of his hoodie and finally kissed him. the taste of your chapstick was a drug to jay, and you weren’t about to cut him off. you’d happily enable him.

his hands trailed down to your waist to the leg of the chair. using the chair he pulled you closer to him effortlessly. how that was even possible- you didn’t know.

when you pulled away for air, jay pulled you back in to kiss him again, his hands traveling up from your knees to your waist. his hands shaking, they only shook when he was physically trying to hold himself back.

your breath hitched when you felt his lips hit your neck. softly he let his teeth nip you. jay was this close to snapping. especially when he got flashes of every time someone got a little too close to you for his liking. it drove him insane, mad, animalistic in a sense. he let himself lose control as he sucked love bites onto your skin. your chest heaved and he ripped you from your chair to sit on his lap.

“jay-“

“what.” it came off as a whisper, his hands tightening on you. the tone of voice he used didn’t even make it a question. his head immediately went back to your neck to mark you up more. you were his, even if this relationship status was a grey area. you belonged to him.

“you’re driving me crazy.”

you felt his smirk against your skin, “you drive me crazy everyday.”

[just-a-creep-babe]

A Demon’s Ache — Part 4

Eyeless Jack x Reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Commissioned by @cookiereblogss — thank you so so very much luv, your support has been absolutely incredible ❤️❤️

Requests are closed but commissions are open!

Check out my patreon if you’d like to support me!

Masterlist: x

Jack avoids you for the next week or so

Hell, he avoids basically everyone

He stays locked up in his room, going back and forth between wishing you hadn’t slept with Jeff and trying to convince himself that you’re your own person, and you can do whatever you want

Or whoever you want, for that matter

Still, he can’t help the burning pit of rage in his stomach every time his thoughts wander to the scarred-faced killer

Of all the fucking people

Unfortunately, staying in his room gets old fast

But he still refuses to step out

Because the last few times he’s left his room, something bad has happened

And logically, he knows he can’t stay inside forever

And he knows that running into you is inevitable

But knowing it isn’t enough to stop him from stalling—he’ll delay having to see you for as long as possible

Part of him is also worried about running into Jeff

He doesn’t know what he’ll do to him the next time he sees that asshole

Killing another resident is strictly prohibited, but he doesn’t know if he’ll have the willpower to stop himself from caving his head in when he sees his dumb fucking face

The mental image brings a smile to the demon’s lips

It would be so easy

It would be so satisfying

With a sigh, Jack makes his way to the window and pulls the curtains open

It looks like a nice day out

The sun is still rising in the blue sky, the green leaves are swaying in the breeze, the birds are chirping

…

He shuts the blinds close, plunging himself back into the darkness once more

It’s better this way, he thinks

He’s about to crack open one of his dusty medical books to bury himself in some studies when he gets a text

Hoodie: Hey, you busy? What’re you up to?

Nm, he types back, and though he’s grateful for the unexpected distraction, he almost wishes he could just be left alone for a few more days

He needs more time to stew in his misery

A reply comes a few minutes later

Hoodie: Ight, you down to train? Masky’s out of commission, I need a partner

The demon sighs

He looks around his room

He’s not necessarily messy per se, but he’s also most certainly not the tidiest

Books, clothes, and a few medical supplies are strewn across the room

He could spend the day cleaning

Or he could spend it reading, or learning a new skill, or picking up some kind of hobby or something

He runs his fingers through his hair

Even though he doesn’t want to admit it, he knows what he should do

I’ll be there in 10, he finally answers

Jack purposefully takes the longer route through the mansion—just so that he can be sure he won’t encounter you

It’s petty, he knows it is, but at this point, he almost doesn’t care

He’s too frustrated and miserable to bother acting civilized

Hoodie’s already waiting for him when he reaches the training field

Located a short trek into the forest, the proxies have their own private cabin next to a broad open clearing

And said clearing, of which, is often used as an outdoor sparring ground

It’s almost always more fun training out here rather than inside

Something about a cramped, sweaty basement just isn’t Jack’s favorite

The proxy’s leaning against the short rotting wooden fence lining one side of the clearing, his arms folded over his chest, when Jack approaches

He gives a nod to the demon as he notices him

“Hey,” Jack says, and when he remembers what Hoodie said about his partner, he asks, “is Masky alright?”

Hoodie shrugs nonchalantly

“Yeah, it’s just a minor injury—no big deal”

He pushes off the fence, adding, “he’ll be fine, it’s just not the best to train with”

Jack nods

He follows the human into the clearing, and the two ready themselves on opposite sides

“You didn’t need me to take a look at it?”

He gets into his fighting stance as he speaks, and Hoodie does the same

“Nah, that newbie checked it out,” the proxy rolls his neck out, and it makes a satisfying crack, before then stretching his shoulder as well, “Besides, you were MIA”

The two face one another 

A gust of wind rustles through the trees around them 

They share a mutual nod to indicate they’re both set, and then the tension grows palpable as the combat session begins

Jack’s one of the strongest and fastest residents at the mansion

If not the strongest and fastest

He usually gives his sparring partner a chance by letting them make the first move

But it’s like all of the jealousy, anger and frustration that’s been building up until this point suddenly snaps inside of him

And in a flash, he charges at the human in front of him

Hoodie tries to dodge, but Jack’s inhumanly fast, and he easily lands his blow to the proxy’s stomach

The human grunts, doubling over, but he’s fast and smart enough to know that he should move before Jack strikes again

He sidesteps him, but he’s slower and clumsier after that first hit, and Jack almost feels bad for him

Maybe he should pull his punches a little more

He can’t let his anger overtake him; he’s the one who has to patch him up afterward if he hits too hard

“The newbie—you mean that guy with the gas mask? What does he call himself again? Y’s Virus or something?”

He tries to distract himself, tries to make some kind of small talk to give the proxy a chance

Hoodie huffs out a laugh

“X-Virus,” he corrects, and seeing that Jack’s giving him a moment to recover, he tries to shake the pain off before resuming his stance

The two circle one another, staying parallel with a fair amount of distance between them

“The kid knows medicine?” Jack asks, matching Hoodie’s movements

“Seems like it. He’s gotta have some kind of use for the boss to keep him. Being a cocky brat with a baseball bat isn’t enough to cut it”

He sidesteps Jack, tries to fake him out, then aims for a kick at his legs

The demon easily jumps back, then uses his momentum to mimic Hoodie’s maneuver

It gets the proxy down, giving Jack the perfect opportunity to get him in a headlock

Hoodie grunts, hands flying up to try to pry Jack off of him

“And what about you?” he asks, his voice audibly strained as he struggles in his hold, “where’ve you been this past week?”

“Busy,” he answers, and then to avoid getting pressed for an answer, he tightens his hold around his throat

Hoodie struggles for longer than Jack expects

But eventually, left with no other choice, he gives in, tapping out, and Jack finally releases him

The proxy gasps, coughing, trying to get a rush of air into his lungs, as Jack stands and offers him a hand

“I hit a nerve?” Hoodie asks, rubbing his throat before taking the help getting up

Jack eyes him for a moment

“What’re you playing at?” he finally asks

Though he wouldn’t consider himself on bad terms with the proxy, he knows fully well that the proxy often has ulterior motives

He can’t—or at least, he shouldn’t—always trust him so easily

Sensing this, Hoodie puts his hands up defensively

“Hey man, I’m not playing at anything,” he claims, “you haven’t been around, and (y/n)’s coincidentally gotten all gloomy recently”

Jack’s ears perk up at the mention of your name

“What do you mean?”

It seems it’s Hoodie’s turn to eye him suspiciously now

“What do you mean ‘what do I mean?’ Did something happen between the two of you?”

When Jack hesitates to answer, Hoodie continues

“Look man, it’s no secret that you’ve got a thing for her. But if you somehow hurt her—”

“I didn’t”

When Jack quickly interrupts him, Hoodie raises a brow at him

Jack sighs

“Listen, there’s nothing going on between us. She’s...” he swallows down the memory of what you said to him in the garden, then forces himself to finish his sentence, “she’s not interested in me”

Hoodie seems to study him for a moment, almost as if trying to judge whether or not he’s lying

“...And what makes you say that?”

“Because she...” Jack stops himself in his tracks, shaking his head, “I-I just know, alright? She’s not into me”

Jack watches as Hoodie pauses to think for a moment

“Well, I clearly don’t know what happened between the two of you,” and before Jack can intercept again, Hoodie adds, “and clearly, something did happen”

“But, whatever,” he continues, “it’s none of my business. All I can say is that, if I were you, I’d try to talk to her. Something’s been bothering her, and something’s obviously bothering you too, and the best you can do is just try to sort things out with her”

It’s now Jack’s turn to get quiet

Had he been too harsh with you the last time he saw you?

Were you worried about him because you hadn’t seen him since?

Seeing him hesitate so much, Hoodie asks if he’ll try talking to you

"...Yeah, alright, I will. I’ll try talking to her,” Jack finally agrees

Hoodie grins

“Finally. Well, with that out of the way, can we finally spar?”

The rest of the training session goes relatively well, all things considered

Jack’s distracted thinking about you, so Hoodie manages to land a fair amount of blows, but he’s still ultimately no match for the demon

Even on the whole trek back through the forest to get to the mansion, Jack’s thoughts are racing a mile a minute

If he was the slightest bit more aware of his surroundings, maybe he would’ve remembered to take the longer route to avoid seeing Jeff on the way in

Maybe he could’ve prevented the killer from noticing him, from locking eyes with him

Maybe he could’ve changed paths when he realized he was headed straight toward him

But that latter one is doubtful, considering the rage tightening in his sternum at the mere sight of him

Jack wouldn’t have backed down at that point—no matter how alert he was

“Out of my way,” Jeff grumbles

He nearly shoulder-checks him, but Jack moves out of the way before it connects

“Watch where you’re fucking going”

The venomous animosity dripping from Jack’s tone is enough to make the raven-haired killer pause in his tracks

“Fuck you just say to me?”

There’s no mistaking the pecking order in the mansion

Jack’s on top

But he’s usually easy-going enough to ignore Jeff’s constant attempts at proving himself

Not today

“I said—“ Jack straightens himself up, all but hissing the words out, “watch where you’re fucking going”

A look of visible confusion flashes over Jeff’s features

Until it clicks

“Ohh, I get it,” he snickers, and the sound makes Jack want to rip him to shreds right then and there

“You’re just upset because I fucked your little girlfriend before you ever even got the chance”

The way he admits to it—so crudely, so shamelessly—it actually takes Jack by surprise 

And Jeff, being the constant prick he is, doesn’t stop there

“God, y’know, she’s actually way less innocent than she lets on. She likes it dirty—filthy. Like a desperate little slut. Wanna know her favorite position? She just loves getting—“

Jack punches him

He hits him directly in the temple, and it knocks Jeff out in one shot

It’s ridiculously satisfying

He only wishes he hadn’t gone down so easily—he would’ve loved to beat him down over and over again

With a snort, he walks away, leaving Jeff passed out on the ground behind him

He had planned to talk to you immediately after training with Hoodie, but he’s way too infuriated to do so right now

Instead, he makes a beeline back to his room

And he promises himself he’ll confront you the very next chance he gets

[grimesrhees]

Good Luck, Babe.

pairing: maggie greene/rhee x fem!reader

genre: angst, mostly.

warnings: mentions of intimacy & alcohol

notes: I rarely write so please enjoy my own self indulgent attempt at it solely for my queen Maggie<3 (this also took me forever, thanks adhd😅)

summary: based on Chappell Roan's song Good Luck, Babe! Set (mostly) before the zombie apocalypse, Maggie struggles with her feelings towards other women. reader gets caught in between, falling for her knowing Maggie isn't ready to accept herself yet.

-Pre-Zombie Apocalypse-

How the hell did I get here again?

You thought to yourself as you lay sweaty and tingly all over, staring into the void of the dark ceiling above. You knew exactly how you got here, in bed with Maggie Greene, yet again. All she had to do was bat those eyelashes your way and use that sweet southern drawl and you were a goner. Ever since you started getting to know each other at the beginning of the semester 6 months ago, you wanted to show her all the ways you could make her feel good. But from the start you were aware that this was experimentation for Maggie, being with another woman. She didn’t want to admit to herself that she was attracted to women along with men. There were many occasions she’d drunkenly called or text you to come pick her up after one too many shots at the bar, only for you to walk in and find her making out with yet another man. But you always came anyway. Because even through the heart ache of this situationship, you couldn’t help but to start falling for Maggie. She was so smart and kind, gentle but fierce all the same, when she wasn’t being a stubborn bull in denial over the two of you.

Letting out a heavy sigh, you turned to face the soft, bare back of Maggie’s. All those days in the hot Georgia sun on her daddy’s farm had her shoulders and back peppered with freckles. You tried to take in every inch of her while you slowly drew your fingertips up and down along her spine. Maggie hummed sleepily at your touch, and you could feel you heart swell and break into pieces at the same time. You didn’t think you could take this, whatever this was between you and her, much longer.

You woke up early the next morning, way before Maggie, and decided to take a quick shower and brew some coffee. You poured two cups, set them both down on the small table and sat. After wrestling back and forth with your thoughts last night, before you mercifully fell asleep, you decided that it was best to talk to Maggie about what was going on between you two. You sipped the hot coffee slowly and stared into the black liquid abyss in front of you until you heard the small creaks of the floorboard.

Maggie’s figure appeared, wearing nothing but an oversized flannel shirt and a pair of lacey underwear. Her hair, completely disheveled from the passion of the night before. You couldn’t help your heart from fluttering at the sight. She leaned against the door frame and flashed you that winning, toothy smile of hers, signature lip bite and all. It quickly fell when she noticed the sad look on your face as you looked up from your coffee.

“Darlin’ why the sad face, what’s got you down this mornin’?” Maggie cooed in that sweet southern drawl of hers.

“After last night I cain’t have nothin’ but a smile on my face.”

You took a deep breath and looked up into Maggie’s big green eyes.

“Mags, what are we doing? Why do we keep doing this to ourselves? What are we?”

You prepped for the inevitable response you were going to get.

Maggie let out a huff and folded her arms across her chest.

“Whatta ya mean ‘what are we doin’ and ‘what are we’? We’re havin’ fun, it’s just casual sex y/n. We’re not anything but that…” she trailed off, almost as if she was convincing herself at the same time as the words were coming out of her mouth.

God she was so fucking stubborn.

You looked away from her and felt your eyes stinging with inescapable tears. Keeping those tears from falling would take everything in you, so you set your coffee down and started to get up from the table.

“Wait, y/n I didn’t mean it quite like that, you know how much I care about you," she shifted her body up straight,

"But this is just the way it is I can’t-"

You stopped her before she could finish.

“I know that this,” you motioned your pointer finger back and forth between the two of you, “is more than “nothing”, more than just “casual” sex. You know that I love you, Maggie.”

Maggie’s mouth went agape for a brief moment before it snapped shut, her jaw tightening and brows furrowing. A mix of emotions flashed across her face, fear, frustration and sadness. She couldn’t will herself to say anything back to you, so you continued on.

“Y'know what, it’s fine. It's cool. You can kiss a hundred guys in bars, shoot shot after shot just to try and stop you from feeling what you know is true about yourself. Make all the excuses , give me all the stupid reasons, but I won’t be here for them. I can’t do this anymore.”

You stood quickly and snatched your bag off the back of your chair, walking over to Maggie and getting only inches away from her face. Even having just woken up she was exceptionally beautiful, and her scent was something you could get drunk off of. You had ripped the band aid almost all off, you had to control yourself, had to end this now, even though almost every ounce of your body was tempted to push her up against the wall and kiss her until you were both breathless and gasping for air.

“This isn’t something you can just hide from forever, Maggie Greene. And you will think about this, years from now, until maybe you finally fucking realize that. Face to face with my ‘I told you so,’ and a longing for what could have been.”

Maggie continued to just stare at you but with tears now brimming in her eyes, still too stubborn to respond to any of your words. Her eyes fell to your feet until you brushed past her and towards the front door. While reaching for the doorknob you turned and looked back at Maggie, tears already steadily rolling down your cheeks.

“Good luck, babe,” you managed to choke out before swiftly opening the door and closing it behind you with a thud.

-Some months into the Zombie Apocalypse-

Flashes of different images and sensations danced across her mind.

The wind whooshing through her hair as her arms stretched out through the car sun roof.

An arching back and the feeling of sweat rolling down her chest, in a state of complete pleasure. Soft moans and wet kisses.

Giggles rang in and out but soon faded into silence.

Your tear-stained face looking back at her, "I told you so," echoing loudly, and the slamming of a door. Suddenly a mirror appeared and only her heartbroken face was staring back at her.

Maggie awoke with a small gasp and sat straight up in her bed. She took a minute to steady her breathing while trying to recollect the dream she just had. Next to her she heard Glenn let out a sleepy sigh and shift in his sleep. Maggie squeezed her eyes shut and put her head in her hands. The world ended and you were right, she couldn't hide the truth from herself forever. She had loved you, completely. Always did. Maggie laid her head back on her pillow, breathing a sigh of relief, finally allowing herself some acceptance.

[mako-neexu]

the way it gets reiterated more than once kills me. marie alter said it. dantes said it. that guda has earned that right to rage and become flame, they have earned the right to be angry at the world for having lost so much from their hands, having been forced to let go as pain has constantly tormented their heart time and time again.

howl, scream, cry in anguish, you with a bleeding heart, you who has constantly strived to move forward without stopping even as you are inevitably deprived of those you love- thats why you must know revenge. you must know how good it feels to strike back even if it will not bring back those you love. in this bloody path set on fire, you could wish for it. you can wish for it. for the world to simply be set ablaze for the pain it has caused you. for the world to know how it feels to be robbed of everything, you who once was an innocent soul now with hands stained blood red. from the depths of despair and grief, you have earned that right for revenge. so set yourself alight and bring forth destruction in your wake. in place of the pain, the anguish, the numbness of it all, (the uselessness of it all), you will know pleasure derived from carnage. you could become one of us. you can become one of us as flames that burn so fiercely just as we loved so passionately. in tasting the sweetness and pleasure of heaven while belonging to hell, you can easily strike down gods with it, you can easily overtake the world and break it if you so wish. that is why you can become one of us. the greatest and last of us as gods of revenge where no one shall refute your hate, your sorrow, your revenge, your love and pain in this bleached earth. where, should the heavens shun you and never forgive you, we will be the one to forgive ourselves.

of course. you won't do it. you don't have that capacity to burn in rage forever. because despite it all, you remember those cherished memories with the bonds that have pulled you up again and again. you remember the people that's made you happy, you remember those that have pushed your back to reach what you've always longed for. you remember seeing that blue sky with the person closest to you. you who burn so much brighter, far more dazzlingly than flame. you, o radiant star, who chooses to love time and time again, you who fights to simply live, to move forward just like you've always done. just like youve always wanted as a feeling that will never change.

[rainswept]

STAINED. cw. death, gore. 1.2k words.

It’s dark. Mhin’s left hand is empty. Their right clutches their antique dagger. They are both sticky with blood. This was a bad idea.

They’re stained, no doubt. They have laid waste to countless things — creatures, beings that shouldn’t even be called such, people, lives, dreams. When their eyes are soulless and vacant and staring into nothing as their skin is sliced like jello, it’s hard to feel guilt — but when they’re still so full of hope, glistening with the light of life (or maybe just that of the street lamps outside the alleyway), how could they not?

But greed is not their drive, mercy not their goal, and guilt not the voice they listen to. Nothing is divine. Nothing is sacred. They lean their weight on their hand, drive their blade deeper into the soft viscera between their kill’s ribs and wait for it to stop struggling. It doesn’t take long. They both know it’s over. They hear soft breaths, feel them fanning against their cheek, and it’s then when they realize how close they are — and they only lean in further, and with the sickening reality settling in the pit of their stomach, they find themselves tempted to steal its last breath straight from its lips. They don’t. Instead, they yank the dagger out and wipe it on a cloth — what were they thinking? — and they pull back, allowing the body to fall against the sticky alley wall, smearing blood as it slides down agonizingly slow.

“Don’t follow me. You’ll only get hurt.”

The words they spoke clatter in their mind like a fallen key against stone, spinning and so very loud in the lull of night, a rusted metal they will never pick up — it probably wouldn’t turn in the lock anymore. It’s too late to open that door now. This was a bad idea. They were right, of course. Of course.

It twitches once, then stills. Mhin wants to apologize. They don’t. What they do is run. They turn on their heel and hurry out of the alley, the front of their shirt painted in carnage — your carnage, theirs, their catharsis and solace — blowing in the cold wind, and they stalk home, cloaked in shadow and guilt and regret. What they don’t do, they have to deliberately tell themselves, is pay mind to the crunch of bones in their wake as something inevitably comes to feed. On you. On their mistakes. (It wasn’t a mistake, they say. They are a liar.) It hums in their ears when they’re down the road. It stays long after they’ve left, like flies on a carcass, even though they know the Soulless are too quick to allow those a seat at the table.

They still want to apologize. But they don’t, even as the cries and gasps and retelling of their name spilling from your lips alongside the blood echo and rattle through their skull. They hurry down the street. They try to push aside the gruesome picture of the face they once loved so much being ripped to shreds like it was paper, yet it still burns behind their eyelids, and now they’re afraid that fire might completely betray them and its very own nature and turn to tears. It doesn’t. It was as reliable as they were, when they weren’t shoving a knife deep into the gut of someone they thought they could trust.

They open their door. The tension in their body leaps to their hands, dances beneath their fingertips, and they want to slam it. They close it quietly. They throw their clothes in the wash, and they pour soap on their hands, and they scrub under their nails. Everything is fine.

They should have kissed you. That would’ve shut you up, but not forever, like they did. Forever was what they chose. They couldn’t decide whether they was a good thing or not.

Their hands are bloodied, no doubt. But it always comes off. At the end of the night, it washes down their sink tangled in now pink bubbles, maybe along with a few of those tears because oh, god, all they can see is your face, and all they can imagine is it being torn and your skin spilling forth like ribbons and your eyes popping like balloons, even though they know that’s not how eyes work, and then they forget all about it — they swear they do, the eyes, the names, the touches.

(Your eyes. Your name. Your touches.)

But then they slip into bed, and it’s cold. It’s hard to forget the warmth. Of you. Of the blood. Of your kisses and your gentle caresses, holding them like they could unravel as easily in your hands as flesh and skin. Of your carcass as they left it. You were still warm.

They roll over, tossing and turning in bed, chills drafting through the windows they swore they closed. Maybe they did — maybe the cold rested beneath their skin, clamoring like a strangler fig, something they knew they couldn’t run from, or defeat, or ever be rid of. For as good as they were at their job, they lacked the means to kill what they wanted to most. As much as they tried. As much as it felt like they did when you were pressed against them, when you kissed their throat and stole their breath right from it like some kind of killer yourself.

An eye for an eye. That’s what they repeated to themselves as they drove the blade deeper and deeper into your side until you choked — on the pain, on your own lies. You deserve this, they want to think, but how could they — it was their fault for trusting you, was it not? How could they blame you for a betrayal they knew was coming?

There was a reason they were wary of everyone. Many reasons, actually. Yet they allowed you to change that, to break apart all they’ve carefully and painstakingly created over the years. It was their fault. So they twisted the knife, because that’s what it felt like tingling up their own spine when they looked at you and could still only feel—

Love. Regret. Betrayal. Agony. Everything they never felt when killing. Mostly love, even though they would hardly go as far as to say that, not when you’re now a pile of entrails and muscle and bone — no, you’re probably unfurling in the stomach acid of some wretched creature by now. The thought forces their head to spin, and their chest to feel heavy, and it makes them sick despite themselves, and they bury their face into their pillow instead of where it would usually rest — your shoulder, the crook of your neck. Mhin hadn’t gone soft, no, and they still cemented that they were incapable of doing so — but when you had practically begun to peel their cold flesh straight off of their body and peer straight into them like they never donned armor to begin with, they became used to the feeling of gently prying fingers and kisses that they swore they hated and—

They shut their eyes tight and clutch the blanket closer to their chest, trying for once in their life to hide from the night and the cold and the dark instead of charging after it headfirst. Just as they gave the blood no time to sink in to their skin, neither did they the emotion of what they’d just done — tomorrow they’d wake, and you’d be gone, just as you should have been from the beginning. This was a good thing.

They fall asleep peacefully.

probably ooc because i’ve only played a little bit of the demo,, sorry 😭. despite the demo mostly portraying them as a cold assassin, there was some vulnerability in the end if you chose to follow them.. i figured if it had been a while and the mc really managed to tear down their walls, it could shake them up a bit more than usual having to take their life. we’ll see though!

[astrologicalsstuff]

8th house synastry

And the not so pretty…

I’m going to make this one a series so keep updated

Please don’t take my ideas😖

18+ tw: sexual assault, r*pe, abuse.

8th house synastry is of change and evolving. It’s uncomfortable and taboo and that’s where it gets it’s reputation. These are the people that are going to thrust you into a different habit. The reason you remember them forever is because they were a cruscial moment that teaches you to change. Most likely the intensity that made you decide to evolve. There’s fears of loss while also something ong a growth and curiosity towards it. You know you shouldn’t yet that’s what makes it so enticing.

The 8th house includes. Loss, taboos, psychology, intimacy, intimate sex, debts, obsessions and power struggles.

7th house shows you what your missing, it’s what compliments your character. The 8th house is farther along than that. It’s something that’s so different that it forces you to catch up. Someone with Scorpio placements may love the change may love the way this person helps you grow, Leo and Aquarius placements without Pluto aspects, 8th house or Scorpio placements may hate it those people wouldn’t enjoy the change as much. Everyone has an 8th house and has signs they interact intensely with but different charts are more accepting of that level of intimacy.

Likely the sign will speak to many of your fears and with 8th house they may enjoy it. It’s all about pushing each others buttons and possibly mind games. This can lead to mind games or even deception but can also cause for a lot of tension. Giving this synastry aspect it’s reputation for both enemies and sexual partners. Your likely to both hate and love people whose planets fall in your 8th house because they bring forth everything you hide about yourself to the world. It can be a very uncomfortable feeling with planets like mars and sun but with feminine planets like moon and Venus theirs probably a layer of ease and care that comes with this. Mars in the 8th creates sexual tension no matter what. You may find yourself always touching this person like a magnet always drawn together. At its worst mars could be abusive, intrusive and downright predatory. House person is most likely intrigued initially but uncomfortable inevitably with marss forcefulness. At first mars person shows an openness that makes house person curious because this is a trait the house person was taught to hide. This synastry can create quite the sexual tension, there’s always something lurking in the air. Sometimes this can indicate a third party, something about this pairing is taboo. This person can also become your antagonist, the person always after you. Sun here may just indicate an enemy, sun is hard to say because many people will have this synastry and I notice it requires more depth into the Natal chart. But sun likes to shine and is submerged in the 8th house. May be someone who straight up doesn’t like you. If your the house person you might feel exposed by the sun person. Like they’re watching your moves and criticizing you.

Mercury probably has less of a sexual connotation but that’s not necessarily the case. For strong mercurial people it could indicate deep talks that lead to more. The person you want to spill your guts to and makes your feel heard. Jupiter here makes you feel accepted for your secrets and the parts of you you want to hide. Watch out for your finances with this synastry though could be someone in your pockets😭. Saturn unfortunately cold mean a lack of intimacy, a superficial feeling relationship. Generational planets can be quite hard to pinpoint because many people within your age group probably have similar placements but I’d say the closer the conjunction to the house cusp the more evident it would be. There’s also a likely good that your natal planets meet these same planets in the 8th house adding extra layers to your interactions with intimacy.

Neptune may be someone who many people fantasize about but with Neptune’s elusive energy that may be hidden to the house person. This gives the dream girl energy that many people dream about but can never seem to reach. With neptune in the 8th natal there may always be a level of dissatisfaction in the sex life, there could be a lot of sexual fantasize but the people somehow always remain at a distance 😢. These people desire all consuming sex. Intimacy to the greatest degree forbidden loves and strong desire. They have a inclination to the occult and may incorporate that into their sex lives. The native with this placement may have a lot of sexual fantasize themselves but neptune keeps everything at a distance. Someone with this may struggle keeping a partner that’s sexually fulfilling.

Pluto attracts people who are intimidated. There may be themes of great jealousy but also extreme magnetism. Attracts partners who want to control them and secretly crave someone who has that power over them. But with Pluto in the 8th there’s also this fear of being controlled and having that level of intimacy. At its worse Pluto in the 8th attracts stalkers, abusers and can be victims of all kinds of things, but this transforms the natives. They understand loss so people feel comfortable confiding in you because of your openness to the hidden parts of the world. I’ve noticed these natives usually have controlling friends in their young age. I have this and was always best friends with the bratty bully kid nobody else could stand. There’s a love for taboo so theirs often a fascination and understanding for intense people and situation. There’s a strong desire for growth so these people may seek out 8th house synastry a lot. These people are known to transform people, their understanding of peoples pain helps them heal. This can also indicate a hard time orgasming, especially if opposite Saturn, intimacy is a must.

Uranus in the 8th attract weird partners or have weird things they can only share with select people. Weird kinks and very open to . When this person enters your life you may notice influxes and losses with your finances.

[modmad]

Hi Mod I am still rereading your comics, and can I just say that Nitrate Burn remains one of the most bittersweet things I’ve ever seen in the ahit fandom? I’m pretty sure it was the comic that made me initially follow you actually.

The story telling is incredible, especially the scenes that cut back and forth between the film and the forest. The idea of it as a whole feels like a great way of building on established canon, and the idea of the Conductor falling in love with a fire spirit is just so tragic.

Also I love the characterization, especially Snatcher’s general lawyerness and DJ Grooves’ genuine concern once he realizes why the Conductor’s face was bandaged. The Conductor is, of course, the star of the show and I loved seeing this take on him!

This comic still comes back to me sometimes every few months when I inevitably fall back into the ahit fixation, and I can safely say that it’s been integrated into my headcanons.

Once again, thank you for putting your beautiful comics out into the world.

(And also let me know if it’s alright with you if I send you these comments as asks, because I will gladly keep going on about how much I love your comics if you’re alright with it :])

THESE MEANS SO MUCH TO ME thank you ;v; and to everyone else who sends messages like this I really do read every single one! I don't always have the energy or means to answer but I keep them in my heart forever- and man I really need to make time to upload the rest of my fan comics to my website I got to Osomatsu-san and just didn't. keep going I'm bad at these things gjhfhj anyway. Thank you very much! I put a lot of effort into Nitrate Burn so I am really glad that it still holds up! :D

[lauriegraham01]

you're still around | natasha romanoff

pairings: natasha romanoff x gn!reader (one instance where it can be interpreted as fem!reader)

summary: "i know better but i still feel you all around." you never envisioned a life spent with natasha, so what do you do now that the aftershocks of her death has uprooted your life?

wc: 2.5k

a/n: I cannot speak of my grief over natasha, so enjoy this instead! + this is me cleaning out my drafts so im sorry if quality is trash </3

You never loved the beach. You never loved the beach until you met her.

Having been assigned on a mission together in Los Angeles, you found yourself on the sand far more times than you cared for.

"Oh, you're being ridiculous it's not that bad."

"I'd rather die."

Even behind her tinted aviators, there was no denying that signature playful glint shinning in her eyes. She loved how you had a flair for the dramatics, always teasing how she's the only one who could ever put up with it.

"Look, it's only for a couple of hours until we make sure that Stavros meets his guys here."

"And not a second more."

Hours slipped away as you two soaked up the sun. You could live in this moment forever. The sound of waves crashing against the shore matched the ferocity of your heart beating in your chest. You were full of love, consumed by it. Yet how could you not.

The way her sun-kissed skin seemed to soak up the sun, how her hair danced in the gentle ocean breeze, and how peaceful she looked as she she slept in the sand.

You feared the inevitable- dreaded it even. Yet lying next to her, unable to look away, you knew it was too late.

Your bond only continued to grow, spending more time both on and off the clock. Using any excuse to be near each other in hopes of learning something new, even though that seemed impossible. Natasha was the first person you felt like you could be completely open and honest with. You were surprised yet relieved when she told you she felt the same way.

Things in those days were still fresh, you both were equally fully of worry and reservation. The fear of ruining an already incredible bond preventing either of you from pursuing something greater. There was a silent understanding of this- despite the circumstance, you and Natasha continued on as you knew best. Pushing each other to be greater, being each others cheerleader, and truly wanting the best for each other after seeing the potential you both possessed.

Each moment shared together played on repeat in your mind until you could see her again. Late nights spent sparring in the gym, pool games at dive bars, and endless romcom movie marathons that only were only respected by Wanda.

The endless messages exchanged during meeting whenever Steve would go on forever. The getaways spent upstate thanks to Natasha swiping the keys to one of Tony's many many cars. The late night spent revealing sins to each others, and the darkest memories and fears that haunted us. The comfort that lasted till morning when you awoke to another sunrise wrapped in each other's arms. Each moment spent with her was truly magical.

You felt yourself falling deeper in love with Natasha with each passing day. You had reached a point where you couldn't remember life without her by your side, and the thought of having to go back to that terrified you both.

"I don't want this to be what splits us." Running your hands over your face, a tired sigh escaped your lips. The stress of the Sokovia Accords had everyone on edge and you and Natasha were no exception.

"I don't see why it has to," Natasha exaggerated. Her patience growing thinner after the countless back and forth and still not seeing eye to eye.

"You know why," you objected sharply. "it's not right, Nat. You know that." Your eyes met her with an unwavering look of defiance. There was no swaying you to change your mind. She always knew you were so stubborn.

"I know," she admitted.

"Then why are you signing?!" Throwing your hands in frustration you don't immediately notice the boom in your voice as you spoke.

It wasn't until Natasha swallowed thickly before averting her gaze towards the ground that you realized your mistake. Your shoulders slump as you let out a tired sigh. You felt that you were at a crossroads, and there was no right answer in which way you moved.

"I want us to stay together, it doesn't matter how," she emphasized, the edge in her voice unmistaken as she enunciated each word. Green eyes looked up at me through silky lashes, behind a determined look I saw the sadness in the mist of green eyes.

In that moment you felt all your fears cement into reality. You knew there was no way both of you could win and your heart broke as you both pledged your allegiance to opposing sides of another mans war.

Looking up at her you saw the same exact heartbreak in her eyes. You reached your breaking point, as the room seemed to close in you bolted out of your seat and aimed for the door. As your hand squeezed the handle, you hesitated- for a brief second. You didn't want to walk out on her, it was the last thing you ever though of doing.

Sparing her a final look, you see the stoic expression on her face. You always knew she was stubborn, but the hardened expression on her face only further proved what you already knew. There was no changing her mind, just as much as there wasn't changing any yours.

"It does to me."

You fought on opposing sides of a pointless war. When the dust settled, there was no morning glory to be found in its aftermath. Just bitter resentment and heartache as the family you've fought beside for years was no more.

Now considered an enemy of the state, you fled the country, not knowing if you would ever come back. By the time Steve had told you how Natasha helped him and Bucky flee, it was already too late. You were thousands of miles away and burned too many bridges that could never be crossed over again.

You thought about writing, but what could you say? Too much was said and done last, you didn't think there was ever coming back from that. You spent the next two years trying to erase the memory of her. Proving quite difficult as you saw her in everything, her love still being the fire that kept you warm even miles away.

You dreamt of a time where you would come face to face with her again. You've rehearsed the apologies you would say and the confessions you would lay bare if you ever were to see her face again. Yet all that flew out of the window as she stood in front of you, finding you amidst the crowded market square.

"Natasha?" Despite her hair now blonde and much shorter, you still could recognize her face in any crowd.

"Just shut up." She said, catching you off guard.

Taken aback, you sighed deeply as you gave her your full attention. Taking in her full appearance, you note her lose tank and green skirt that flowed with the summers breeze. You don't think you've ever seen her in something that colorful. Despite all the changes, she's still Natasha. You still saw the girl you fell in love with all those years ago on that beach.

The crease between her eyebrow reveals how Natasha seemed deep in thought. Hesitant to speak what's on her mind as she darted between your eyes, weighing her options.

"I never wanted to rely on anyone for anything," she began. "I thought that if I could be independent and alone then I could avoid the pain that comes from losing people."

Fidgeting with her fingers and from the bite marks on her lip, you sensed the urgency behind her words.

"I don't wanna live like that anymore," she confessed urgently. As if she could no longer bear having such a brilliant truth hidden for a second longer. "I love you y/n. I think I have for a long time now but I was just too scared to admit it- and I know things are complicated but i'm ready for this. I want this. I want us-" Stopping suddenly, feeling breathless the longer she looked in your eyes. "You. I want you."

"I love you."

Time seemed to slow down in that moment. The sound of thousands of people packed in the Brazilian market faded to nothing as you looked at her, her words echoing in your head. If Nat had felt even an ounce of relief from getting the truth of her chest, her face didn't show it. She had this look on her face, you studied for it moment before you realized what it was- fear.

She thought you would walk away. That you would scoff at her confession, see through her for what she thought she was, flawed.

She couldn't have been farther from truth. Her eyebrows furrowed in mix of shock and confusion when she felt a finger tilting her chin upward. Swallowing thickly, she awaited cruel rejection. However, seeing the adoration behind your eyes, she let herself believe that maybe there was some room for redemption. The corner of her lip curled upwards before the both of broke into breathless laughs, the twinkle in her eyes making your heart soar as it sang Natasha's name.

"I love you too."

After that, you never knew a life without Natasha. Having fought in Wakanda and losing so much during The Blip, you two became each other's anchor.

Never wanting to be away from her again, you moved back to New York. You helped direct the remaining Avengers as missions were still executed and help was needed everywhere. Despite the darkness that the world was wrapped up in, you and Natasha were each other's lighthouse, guiding each other back to shore.

It wasn't until Scott came barging on the compounds door and the the rest of the team got together for the time heist that hope would shine for the first time in a long time.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come instead," you lowly ask as you and the rest of the team prepare for the time heist.

"I'm gonna pretend to not be offended by that." Clint chimed in as he made his way past us.

"Shut up Barty, please!" He throws his hands up in surrender as he's met by your annoyed gaze. You don't miss hearing Bruce chuckle as he typed away on the control panels.

Facing Natasha again, you're met with her amused smile as she looked up at you.

"I promise I'll be fine," she insisted. "Clint's got my back-right Barty?!"

Clint just grunts in acknowledgment.

"Trust me?" Raising her eyebrows as she lifted her open palm toward you.

Taking her hand and turning it over, you placed a chaste kiss onto it.

"Damn right I do," you say, never breaking eye contact.

Not missing the way her cheeks flushed at the sudden gesture you bring her in and capture her lips in a soft kiss. Earning a wolf-whistle from Tony in the process.

As you all stood in a circle on the platform, ready to go back in time in hopes of bringing everyone back, your eyes meet Natasha's again. Heart fluttering as it did everytime you looked at her.

"See you in a minute." Her eyes glimmering as she smiled at you.

Those words replayed in your head in a constant loop for months. You never got to say goodbye, and that's what killed you the most.

You never were good with grief, and having lost so many people because of Thanos, you spiraled into a depression that lasted the better half of a year.

Yet when you were ready to face that grief, it was Yelena who was there for you. She was one of the few people around who understood what it meant to lose Natasha. To have known and loved her so intimately, and have that taken away.

Staring out into the same sea at the same beach where you first fell for your blue-jeaned baby, as comforting hand on your shoulder shakes you from your thoughts. Startled by the sudden presence your eyes look up frantically to meet with Yelena's concerning gaze.

"Hey," her voice soft, "you okay?"

"Hey-um, yeah, i'm fine really." You shake your head furiously as you blink away your tears. Meeting her eyes again, the love and sincerity that poured behind Yelena's eyes was enough to make the damn burst.

"No," you croak as a sob wracks itself out of your body. Engulfing you in her arms, you burrow your head in Yelena's shoulder as grief's uncharted weight washes over you.

"I know what she meant to you. She told me about a month after taking down the Red Room. I never would've taken her for a U-hual lesbian."

A laugh escapes your lips. Looking back on it, things did happen rather quickly. After taking down Dreykov, she felt a new found purpose in life, a need to reconnect with family and loved ones.

"Yeah, well it was a long time coming," you let out softly. You pull out of her arms, wiping away at your dried tears.

"Thank you, Yelena. I know what she meant to you too."

You don't miss the sadness that flickers in Yelena's eyes.

"She meant to look for you earlier. She told me about you while staying at one of Tony's safe house", you sigh reflecting on the confessions said that night. The fire and a shared bottle of whiskey having kept you both warm that night. "She never stopped thinking about you."

"I know," she affirms, voice shaky. "Thank you."

You offer her a soft smile, eyes crinkling as you giver her arm a reassuring squeeze. Yelena then locks arms with you, a sudden peace washing over you like the waves ashore you were watching.

"Are you gonna be okay?" Looking over at her, you note the blonde wisps of hair that moved with the wind.

"Are any of us?" She doubled back with a smirk, earning a chuckle from you.

A brief silence falls over you two. One full of reluctant acceptance as it is with sadness.

"I promised I wouldn't say goodbye." You barely heard her. You almost thought you hadn't from how low she spoke.

Looking back towards the water, if you didn't know any better you'd think she was still around. If you thought about it long enough, you could still make out Natasha's footprints scattered across the sand. Or how graceful she looked dancing in the sand.

You could hear the sweetness of her laughter as not even the call of the seagulls could sing a finer melody.

You can still feel the warmth of her pirate smile, shinning bright as she looked at you from over her shoulder.

As the wind picked up you closed your eyes and let the memories of your sweet summers spent with Natasha flash before you. If you didn't know any better, you'd think she was talking to you now. Through the way the wind echoed her whispers of "I love you."

Opening your eyes, the warmth and love of those memories still sprout inside you, even as your met with the sight of the beach's barren winter. She's still here, always with me.

"Maybe you don't have to."

You know better, but you still feel her all around.

[problemchildtm]

The Prophecy

Derek Morgan x fem BAU!Reader

Hurt/comfort

A/n: I feel like the beginning is a bit rushed but I'm overall happy with how this came out :)

Warnings: swearing, self deprecating thoughts, angst, lmk if I missed anything!

“I can’t do this anymore, we’re done. I’m sorry.”

That was the text you came back to after chasing an unsub for what felt like forever. You’ve been dumped via text before and it sucked. Your ex didn’t even have the decency to call. It wasn’t surprising. This guy was just the next thread in a string of terrible relationships.  

You weren’t hurt over the loss of the relationship, more so by the method and the lingering impression it left. You’d been scrambling to find love and in your efforts, you came to a realization: Love wasn’t meant for you. How could it be when every time you thought you found love it was ripped away without a second thought? The guys that were interested in you were awful and the one that interested you was forbidden. It was common knowledge that inter-team relationships were a no-go and even if they weren’t it’s not like the object of your affection shared your feelings. It was just your luck that you fell head over heels in love with one person you couldn't have. This only furthered the loveless thoughts and it didn’t help that you and Derek grew closer by the minute. He was always hyper-aware of you and it was no different tonight. 

As the final things related to the case finished, Hotch encouraged everyone to go back to the hotel and rest up before the morning flight. That was when the gravity of your prior thoughts hit you. You were tired of being hurt. The pain was etched on your face and, of course, Derek noticed. Unluckily for you, Derek was your bunk buddy for this case so there was no escaping his inevitable interrogation. He didn’t pry on the drive to the hotel, rather let the radio ease your mind. He didn’t even pester you when you got into the hotel room. You thought you were safe when he left you alone before and after his shower but you weren’t that lucky. “Is everything okay with you? You seem off.” Sighing you gave in, deciding lying wasn’t worth the trouble. “I just got dumped” Furrowing his brow he asked, “When? I didn’t see you answer your phone at all.” You opened the conversation between you and your ex and handed Derek the phone. “There was nothing to answer, he never called.” Derek looked angrier than you. Sensing this wasn’t the time to insult your idiot of an ex, he went to comfort you. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“I think I’m gonna die alone” you stated. Taken aback Derek questioned your thought process. Your nonchalance quickly shifted as months of pent-up feelings resurfaced. “I meet someone and it’s like catching lightning in a bottle then it’s gone again. No one worthwhile has liked me like that and I’m not getting any younger,” you explained. Derek, for the life of him, couldn’t figure out how someone like you could think that. He kept trying to convince you that you were wrong but you wouldn’t budge. You were stubborn, it was something he liked about you in most cases. The back and forth continued and you were growing more annoyed by the second. You couldn’t get through to him at all. He left no room for you to talk down on yourself and to make it even worse he insisted on maintaining eye contact the entire time.

Sighing in frustration you tried to look anywhere else. “It’s like… there’s some invisible prophecy damning my love life to an eternity of barrenness.” If it weren’t for the embarrassment of the situation pulsing through your veins you’d have the courage to look up at him. “That’s oddly poetic,” he replied absentmindedly. After a short wave of silence, he continued his thought. “The failure of your past relationships doesn’t mean you’re doomed romantically you know.” You couldn’t help but scoff at his comment. “Derek please I got cursed like Eve got bitten.” Derek opened his mouth to respond but you kept talking before he could. “I know it sounds pathetic but I’ve always told myself a lesser woman would’ve lost hope after being crushed time and time again. Yet at the same time, a greater woman wouldn’t beg for happiness.” 

The outside world's sound couldn’t be louder as the two of you sat awkwardly. Derek wanted to speak up but whenever he tried, the words got caught in his throat. On the flip side, the quiet only egged you on. After the near breakdown you just had there was no going back. In truth, it felt nice to get everything off your chest. The self-deprecating thoughts had plagued your mind for some time and the act of bottling it all up was beyond exhausting. Regardless of the relief, you couldn’t help but feel ashamed. People go through worse daily and the case you quite literally just finished was a testament to that. Exasperated, you continued. “And I sound like an infant crying about something completely made up. I’m just so afraid I sealed my fate and will never find love.” Tears began to prick your eyes despite the efforts to compose yourself. Maybe it was the stress of the case catching up to you. Maybe it was the irony of venting about your failed love life to the man you were currently in love with. Either way, the dam was beginning to break. Just before the waterworks started you managed to get out a final plea to the sky: “Please, I don’t want money, I just want someone who wants my company. Let it once be me. For fucks sake who do I have to speak to about if we can redo the prophecy?” 

Teary-eyed you glanced at Derek and saw a look you couldn’t decipher. It was easy to see the sympathy laced with sadness buried within his brown eyes, but there was something else. If you didn’t know any better you’d say it was a look of regret. That glance turned into a full-blown stare. The tension in the room was palpable. Derek finally decided to cut it. “I wish you wouldn’t talk about yourself like that.” Confused you stared at him, hoping he would continue. “Will you go on a date with me?” He asked unexpectedly. The staring continued for a beat until you could gather your thoughts. “You don’t have to do this because you feel bad for me. I don’t need or want your pity date.” In signature Derek Morgan fashion he laid the charm on and said, “I’m offended you think I would ask you out for any reason other than me wanting to.” The previous confusion only grew after his statement and even more so after you agreed. You hoped for some acknowledgment of the situation or a confession but it was nothing. After you said yes to his invitation, he wiped away the remaining tears on your cheeks, kissed you on the forehead, carried you to your respective bed, and then climbed into his own. The situation kept you up for who knows how long. 

The next morning everything was almost normal. The only differences being the lack of weight on your shoulders and the onslaught of affection from Derek. It’s like he completely ignored or forgot what happened the night before. It felt nice to be liked by the man you loved but something was wrong. The day continued in the same fashion until you received a text from the center of your uncertainty: “Can I pick you up at 7 tn? You sent a quick reply and went on with your day, all while trying to ignore the anxiety bubbling within. Before you knew it, the time read seven o’clock and there was a knock on your door. You opened the door to find none other than Derek Morgan looking dashingly handsome, holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers. The sight made a lot of your worries momentarily disappear. They came back when he started talking. 

He stood there for a second, silently admiring you. The admiration was followed by a breathless “You’re beautiful.” You thanked him with a smile and started walking outside when he stopped you. He took a deep breath and began talking. “Before we go, we need to talk about the hotel room.” You grimaced at the mention of it and he noticed. “I know it’s hard but I need to get it off my chest. First off I wanna apologize for leaving you hanging after you confided in me. Honestly, I didn’t know what to say; more like there was so much I wanted to say but couldn’t and I for damn sure wasn’t going to mess this up before it really started. I know my indecisiveness probably left you feeling a lot worse than you already did and I’m genuinely so sorry for that. The truth is I’ve liked you for a long time, way before Keith or David.” You cut him off with a giggle. “You mean Kenneth and Daniel?” Rolling his eyes he responded, “Whatever their names are they didn’t deserve you, and they definitely had no room to make you feel as though you were unloveable because you are.” He took a pause and you filled it. “How are you so sure that I am?” You asked gently. “I know you’re lovable because I’m in love with you. I’ve loved you for a year and sat back because I thought you were happy with those boys and now that I know you weren’t I refuse to give up on the possibility of us. Let me be the one to change the prophecy. I’d rewrite every damn word of it if it meant I had a chance in hell to be loved by you.” Lost for words, you lent up and kissed him while he happily reciprocated.  

You don’t know how long the two of you stood there but you do know that the date went amazing as did every other date that followed. It was pretty safe to say the curse had been lifted and whoever wrote the previous chapters of your love life completely flipped the script this time around. 

[avkima]

~invisible strings:jamie flattersxreader~

Chapter 1

Summary: after Bailey drags Reider (reader) to meet Britain’s friends for a little hangout a quick bond is formed between her and Jamie. Doesn’t matter though, she’s so in the friend zone. P.S summary will change chapter to chapter as new info is given

tags:friend groups, Bailey Bass is your bff, Avatar cast, Sam and Zoe are your parents simply because they can be, fluff, friends to lovers, angst, love triangle if you squint, unrequited love but it’s really not, closed door smut. Stay tuned for some Easter eggs of secret characters and plot lines.

wc: 1.2k

tag list↯

@neteyams-wh0re

💌💌💌💌

truly don’t think I’ve lived before I found you.

But it was always meant to be

I never saw the world until I looked into your deep brown eyes.

You were there in the little things, but how had our paths never crossed?

I never felt alive until I felt your touch.

As a connected duet we preform this experience together.

I wish to dance with you forever.

For eternity—

Not just till death do us part.

-jamie flatters

* “Shall I compare the to a summers day?”

“I’m more of a fall to be honest”

——————

I really needed to get out of my dorm. Or at least that’s what Bailey had been telling me when she caught me talking to myself while folding laundry. She would barge in unannounced when she felt the need. Today I had been home alone all day so ranting to myself about horrible Professor Quaritch was inevitable.

“I was winning an argument—now I’m off track” I glance at her as she strolls in.

“Oh my apologies weirdo.” She sits down next to me and begins folding too, “Have you been in here all day? It looks spotless!”

My tiny 250 square foot dorm could be cleaned top to bottom in an hour if I was being a perfectionist about it—or I had neglected it that week. But I wasn’t about to go through my whole list of antisocial activities which only included an hour or two of actual school work.

“Yeah mostly, that and Gilmore Girls”

“You live like you have no friends”

I chuckled, “I live like an introvert who has been with her friends all week!”

She frowned.

Bailey was the most bubbly extrovert I’ve met. Most of the time she was very understanding of our opposing personalities but to be honest I think she saw I was more in the dumps than I was letting on.

“Come on, you need to get your mind off of Chris and have some fun tonight!” Bailey gets a twinkle in her eyes, a plan is forming as she pulls me off of the beige couch. “It’s party time!”

I groan “I’m all for a little get together but I don’t know if I’m party ready.” Bailey tugs on my arms back and forth to get me to dance with her.

“Britain invited some of his friends and the group to his apartment. It’s gonna be like so chill, I promise no more than like 7 people.”

I frown, mulling over how truthful that statement really was and how uncomfortable I would be if it truly was a party.

She notices I haven’t exactly been won over and back tracks. “I said party but I didn’t really mean party. It’s so casual and you know me, you know Britain, and you know Jack.” She meets my eyes for the selling point blinking her big green eyes “plenty of people to hide behind.”

I sigh. I hadn’t met any of Britain’s friends but I knew Bailey hangs with them too so they couldn’t be too bad. If anything I can just be introduced and then let Bailey and Jack do all the talking.

“Ok sure.”

“Yay! We can bring drinks, our wine is gonna go bad soon.”

>——————>

October In LA proved to be colder than I usually is. I regretted my sleeveless top but the jeans made up for it. With some chilled Merlot and some odd white claws or two in tow me and Bailey headed out to Britains apartment just off of 110 not far from campus. The smooth car ride in Bailey’s Camry proved useful for my mascara application. She had mentioned some of her boyfriend’s friends were single and encouraged me to at least get out of my sweat pants. I wasn’t getting my hopes up but I guess I was expecting something…maybe.

Britain’s apartment always smelled like something was cooking even when there was no food in the house. Tonight it smelled like burnt…toast?

Bailey scrunches her nose upon entering, “What did you burn?”. She asked Britain who opened the door for us.

“Popcorn.” He kisses her cheek and takes the drinks to the kitchen. “At least we have these” he tosses the bag of popcorn into the trash and takes some plastic cups out of the cabinet.

We set our bags down on the couch and look around at the seemingly empty apartment.

“Where are the boys?” Bailey asks, stepping closer to me. I know what she’s doing.

“Not sure actually,” he looks towards the hallway that led to his and his two roommates rooms. “Party’s here bros!”

My stomach flipped as a guy emerged from the hall, thankfully followed by Jack.

Jack greeted me with a smile and hug, “hey bro.”

The other guy he was with looked pretty friendly, a big smile on his face as he introduced himself. “Hey I’m Duane.”

“Reide.” I smile and shake his hand.

Britain calls out for ‘Filip and Jamie’ who we could hear laughing in one of the bedrooms down the hallway while we had been making our introductions.

One Filip and Jamie come walking down the hall—though I do not know which is which. They were still chuckling to each other from their conversation.

Bailey linked arms, probably trying to ground me with all these new people…new boys.

“So this is Jamie,” she gestures to the brunette with the sharper features who also seemed to be a few inches shorter than “and this is Filip.”

“this is Reider.” She finishes

“Everyone just calls me ‘Re or Reide.” I smile at them giving him my best attempt at confidence.

“Good to see you Reide.” Filip says he seems less chummy with me but this almost gives me more solidarity with him.

Jamie’s eyes catch my attention. They are blue or maybe hazel. The apartment lighting is still enough to see that he’s pretty. One of the hotter guys I’ve ever seen on campus.

“That’s a pretty name, ‘Reide.” He shakes my hand.

My flick wider and my cheeks grow hot.

He’s fucking British.

“Oh wow you have an accent.” Shove my hands in my back pocket, again posing myself as confident to make up for how frocking nervous I was to be talking to a cute boy.

“Yeah I’m from London.” His smile tells me he’s had this conversation a lot.

I panic a bit, not knowing whether he rather me just move on from his Britishness or if it would be rude to be so disinterested.

Bailey comes in to save me. “Well Britain burnt the single snack he had so is anyone up for a snack run?”

We all agreed the night would end in a movie and some games as we piled into Duane’s van.

He graciously offered to drive us to Walmart. Jack jumped in the passenger seat and immediately grabbed the auxcord.

The seating arrangement left me sitting in the middle of Jamie and Bailey. He smelled good though like cinnamon, vanilla and maybe pine. I hoped I smelled good, seeing as my body was so close to his. He was even cuter up close.

Jack started playing Get Him Back by Olivia Rodrigo and from there the chaos sprung. The boys belted the lyrics as if they had just been through some gut wrenching break up with their gaslighting boyfriend.

I giggled with Bailey, content. They seemed pretty cool but the night has just begun.

[ladyredmoon13]

DCxDP prompt

His Betrayal and Her Droken Heart

We all know Desiree's story. Only, no we don't; not really. We only know Desiree's story as it had been told to us. As it has been told for centuries. In reality, her tail is much different than how others are led to believe.

She was a harem girl who fell for the Sultan and she believed that he loved her as well. So when he approached her one day and confided in her his unhappiness with his wife. She listened and asked what it was she could do. He told her his plans and his desire to bring forth her greatest wish and fulfill it. To make her his wife and Queen.

Of course, she agreed. How could she not have? So they put their plan into motion. Only it didn't go according to plan. Not for Desiree anyway. Unbeknownst to her she was meant to fail. For the Sultan had set this whole thing up as a way of testing his wife's loyalty.

So once he was assured that his beloved wife was loyal and forever his willing servant he cast Desiree aside and his wife had her banished. Unknowing of the precious treasure she held.

She was taken in by a family member who took pity on her and felt as though she was broken. Like she had nothing left for this life. That is until she discovered that she was pregnant. She was elated and found her new purpose.

Everything was looking up. Until after her baby's birth when the Sultan came to collect his child. She begged and pleaded to keep her child but they fell on deaf ears. She died of a broken heart not three days later.

She came back. Because of course she did. With the way she had died it was inevitable. She wondered around for years decades looking for her lost child. Along the way she found out that she could grant wishes. Only realizing later that they always come with a heavy price.

One day a child, a little girl; happened upon her and asked Desiree why she looked so sad. She told the girl that she had lost her baby boy and could not find him. Sad for her, and not knowing that Desiree could grant wishes. The little girl said that she wishes she would find her son and Desiree granted the wish on instinct. Only to end up in a bloody battle field.

She sees her son. After years, decades of searching for him she finally found her baby. Only to be completely horrified by what he had become. He had become a monster. A bloodthirsty creature with no regard for the lives he was ruining or the blood he was spilling.

And who was responsible for this? Who had turned her bundle of joy into this dog!? Why, it was no other than her beloved Sultan. The man she loved, and had betrayed her. Who had broken her heart and left her with nothing. Who had turned her into THIS!

She made his life hell. Even going as far as granting a wish she twisted it so that it would kill the Sultan's wife. Finally having enough the Sultan and her son laid a trap that ended with Desiree imprisoned in a bottle.

So her legend grew and changed. People adding and taking things out or just forgetting them all together. But threw it all. Even as she remained trapped and then later freed one thing kept her spirits high; and that was the thought that if she ever saw Ra's al Ghul again, she would make him pay.

The next time she saw him he will pay for it all, and he will pay it with his life.