Tumgik
#like... how could another person ever come close to being this to me??
prettygirl-gabi · 3 days
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Skin
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Rating:General Audiences
Warning: Fluff, angst, bitter ex, major friend group dynamic shift
Category:F/M
Fandom: Outerbanks (OBX), (Netflix TV series)
Relationships: JJ Maybank x f reader
Summary: Kie's slowly getting under your skin especially when you're JJ's new girlfriend
Based on recent experiences, and the song skin by Sabrina Carpenter has been stuck in my head for like 6 months on top of the recent experiences...
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**"Maybe we could’ve been friends, if I met you in another life…"**
The thought crosses my mind as I stand in the middle of the living room, fiddling with my phone, and waiting for JJ to come back from the kitchen. The memory of Kiara's expression when she found out about us is still fresh, lingering like a bitter taste I can’t wash away. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, but I guess things never go as planned.
“You okay?” JJ's voice pulls me from my thoughts as he enters the room, a playful smile tugging at his lips. He’s balancing two mugs of coffee in his hands, making his way toward me like everything in the world is perfectly fine.
I nod, forcing a smile back. “Yeah. Just thinking.”
He hands me one of the mugs, his fingers brushing against mine. The contact is warm, grounding me in the moment. "About Kie?"
I glance away. He knows me too well.
“It’s hard not to think about her,” I admit, sitting down on the worn-out couch. “She was—no, she *is* my friend. I hate that it feels like I’m betraying her.”
JJ sighs and sits next to me, his arm resting casually behind my shoulders. “You didn’t do anything wrong. She’ll come around. It’s just gonna take time.”
**"I’m happy and you hate it, hate it, oh…"**
I wish I could believe him. It’s not that I don’t want to be with JJ—it’s that being with him comes with a whole mess of complications I didn’t see coming. Kie and JJ had always had this unspoken connection. At least, that’s what everyone thought, including me. And then I fell for him. Hard.
Now, it’s like every glance from Kiara is a reminder that I’ve taken something she didn’t realize she wanted until it was too late.
“I don’t think she’s ever going to be okay with it,” I confess quietly. “With us.”
JJ chuckles softly, shaking his head. “Well, that’s too bad. Because I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you.”
His words make my heart flutter, even though the doubt still lingers in the back of my mind. I know he means it—he’s serious about us, about this. But how do I move forward when the person I care about most next to JJ feels like I’m rubbing this relationship in her face?
**"You can try to get under my, under my, under my skin, while he’s on mine."**
I take a deep breath and lean into him, letting his warmth seep into me. I want to focus on him, on this moment, but the guilt weighs heavy on my chest.
“You think she’ll really get over it?” I ask softly, not really expecting an answer but needing to hear him say it anyway.
JJ turns his head slightly, his lips brushing against my temple. “Eventually. Or maybe not. But either way, I’m not giving this up.” His voice is firm, and I can feel the truth in it.
I close my eyes for a moment, trying to silence the doubt. There’s something undeniably special between us—something that wasn’t there with anyone else. And maybe that’s why it feels so complicated. Maybe that’s why Kiara reacted the way she did when she found out.
**"I wish you knew that even you can’t get under my skin, if I don’t let you in…"**
“It’s not just Kie,” I whisper, more to myself than to him. “It’s everything. The looks. The comments.”
JJ pulls back slightly, his blue eyes searching mine. “You mean from the others? John B? Pope?”
I nod. “They keep acting like this is something we should’ve told them about sooner. Like we should’ve asked for permission or something.”
JJ sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I know it’s complicated with the Pogues, but at the end of the day, they’re gonna support us. Maybe they’re just weirded out because they didn’t see it coming. But who cares? This is about *us*, not them.”
His words are reassuring, but the sting of Kiara’s reaction still sits heavy in my chest. When she found out, the hurt in her eyes was unmistakable. She hadn’t said much, but the silence spoke volumes. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so torn between two people in my life.
“You don’t think I’m a terrible friend, do you?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
JJ tilts his head, his expression softening as he looks at me. “No. You’re not a terrible friend. You just…fell in love. And sometimes, that happens in ways people don’t expect.”
**"And I’m not asking you to let it go, but you’ve been telling your side, so I’ll be telling mine."*
It’s true. Kiara hasn’t exactly been shy about expressing her feelings on the matter, even if it’s been in subtle ways—pointed comments, sideways glances, and the awkward tension that fills the room whenever the three of us are together. But I’ve kept my side of the story mostly to myself, too afraid to make things worse.
“You know she called me the other night?” I say, breaking the silence.
JJ raises an eyebrow. “What did she say?”
“She just…wanted to know why. Why *you*? Why now?”
He doesn’t say anything for a moment, his jaw tensing slightly as he processes my words. “And what did you tell her?”
I shrug, feeling the weight of that conversation settle over me again. “I told her the truth. That it just…happened. That I didn’t plan on falling for you, but I did.”
JJ’s lips quirk into a small smile, though there’s a hint of sadness in it. “And how did she take that?”
I let out a soft laugh, though it’s more out of exasperation than amusement. “She didn’t really respond. Just said she needed time to figure things out.”
He leans back on the couch, pulling me closer into his side. “Then let her have her time. We’ve got all the time in the world.”
**"You can try to get under my, under my, under my skin… but he’s all mine."**
The thing is, I know he’s right. I know that no matter what happens with Kiara or anyone else, this—what we have—it’s real. And I can’t let their opinions, their judgment, get in the way of that. JJ is mine, and I am his. That’s all that should matter.
“I just don’t want to lose her,” I admit softly, resting my head against his shoulder. “Or anyone.”
“You won’t,” JJ murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “And even if things are rocky for a while, we’ll figure it out. Together.”
I close my eyes, letting the comfort of his words wash over me. Maybe it won’t always be easy. Maybe there will always be a part of Kiara that resents me for this. But I can’t let that hold me back from being happy.
**"You can’t get under my skin, if I don’t let you in."**
And I won’t let her. Not anymore.
I pull back slightly to look at JJ, his face soft in the dim light of the room. “I love you, you know.”
His eyes light up with that mischievous glint I’ve come to adore, and he leans in, his lips brushing mine. “I know. And I love you too.”
For the first time in a while, I feel like maybe, just maybe, everything will be okay.
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‐Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶
-prettygirl-Gabi✨️🎀
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stephsageek · 19 hours
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New One-shot Alert
My Five X Lila Strip poker one-shot is finally done!
A Preview:
Five expelled his drink, coughing into his fist afterward.
Lila’s eyes widened as she leaned over, patting him on the back a few times as he gasped and sputtered. “I-I’m sorry—” he wheezed. “I-I thought you said ‘strip’—”
“Oh, no. You heard right,” she reassured calmly.
“What the fu-How can-Are you—?!” Five rapidly protested, suddenly squeezing his eyes shut, his expression annoyed and aggrieved in equal turns. “What am I saying? Of course, you’re insane—”
“Oi! You said I get to pick—!”
“Yes, Lila. I did,” Five admitted, his voice strained as he tried to be patient. “But why would you—?!”
“What? Afraid of losing your precious Puritanical sense of propriety because you’re shite at cards—”
“Two things, senior psychopath. One, I am most certainly not ‘shite’ at cards. You must not have read my file too closely while you were at the Commission, because if you had you would know the identity of the only known person to have bested James Hickok in a game of cards—”
“Wild Bill?!” Lila gasped as Five kept talking.
“—Two, you are my brother’s wife—not to mention my best friend!” Five hissed as if worried someone might hear him.
“Aw, old man, I’m touched—!” Lila fawned, only to be cut off.
“Don’t change the subject! Playing strip poker is practically cheating!” he snapped.
Lila rolled her eyes. “Puh-lease! One, there is no way you are telling me you beat Wild Bill and even think for a second, that we’re not going to play! Two, playing strip poker is most certainly not cheating—”
“How the hell do you figure—?!”
“It’s not like we’d even be touching—”
“We’d be naked—!”
“You might be, loser—”
“Regardless of who might be naked in this scenario, Lila, the point still stands that it is obviously —”
“Have you forgotten that you’ve already seen me starkers as it is?” Lila smirked, folding her arms. “Or am I the only one that remembers?”
Lila watched as a vein began to throb at Five’s temple as he gritted out, “You were trying to kill me; forgive me for being a little preoccupied.”
“Not at all! You honestly ought to thank me for even giving you another chance at eyeing the goods!”
Lila watched in amusement as Five gnashed his teeth in frustration, his face growing red. She was unsure if it was from anger or embarrassment.
“We’re both adults, old man; playing a friendly game! Nothing untoward. You Americans are always so touchy about nudity. There are plenty of cultures where family members see each other naked all the time—!”
“Lila, it’s not because we’re—"
“Besides, the human form is natural; not necessarily only sexual,” Lila reasoned, knowing Five well enough to know that an appeal to his sense of logic would be difficult for him to argue against. Although she could think of one other appeal he’d struggle to overcome: an appeal to his sense of pride.
“You’re just afraid I’ll show you up,” Lila grinned.
She liked the way his eyes blazed when he was truly beginning to lose his patience. The way he clenched his jaw, making a muscle jump in his cheek.
“Or worse, that you might like what you see~” Lila whispered, teasing.
Five’s face went scarlet.
Lila felt her heartbeat quicken.
Lila loved ruffling his feathers, flirting and teasing; taunting and baiting; and disturbing his carefully constructed world.
She loved it from the moment they met, and it had only grown over the years.
She remembered when they'd first been enemies, the way his anger and pain had felt like a balm to her soul.
When his bitterness had tasted so very sweet.
Even now, with his brother—her husband—no one else had ever given her this feeling. That spike of adrenaline and dopamine that rushed through her veins like a drug. That thrill that made her heart race.
Her life felt drab, stifling, and joyless sometimes; like she was dragging her feet through a gray, lackluster existence.
And then Five would come along, brightening her life and splashing her universe in technicolor. If she was Dorthy, he was her Oz and she never wanted to go back to Kansas.
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1980ssunflower · 1 year
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There is something so indescribably special about my loves...
#ot3: ❤rhyme💛easy💙#tape entry circa 1980#i dont think there could ever be someone in this world who could ever match up to them for me#or even get close to being to me what they are#i love people easily but what i feel for my min & ryan is beyond anything i thought existed#looking at them i feel ive known them my whole life... like theyve been walking beside me all these years#i know them more deeply than i feel ive ever known anyone...#and ik they know more abt me than even myself#like... how could another person ever come close to being this to me??#besides the fact i share practically everything in common w them both#the way i felt abt them from the beginning. it was fate. and that cant be replicated#gwah i realized i didnt finish writing this#i just hope you guys realize just how important they both are to me...#everything abt them is so real to me and theyre my genuine loves of my life#i will ALWAYS think of them as my husbands#im so so... deeply protective of them both...#tbh even seeing MOST other peoples art and anything abt them both bothers me cause most of the time i feel people dont... portray them righ#or it just feels WRONG#thats why i tend to stay in my own bubble w them#idk god... theyre just so important to me... theyre my world... theyre the meaning of my life...#i miss them sm i want to bury my face in their chests i need to feel them hold me rn#i love them i love them i LOVE THEM#I COULDNT POSSIBLY EVER LOVE ANYTHING MORE...#oh my babies... i miss you both so much...
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multicarinata · 2 years
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they literally sent him to a farm upstate 👍
#feeling honestly completely normal there were No other options but they didn't do anything really fun within that framework :-/#bit disappointing given the iron grip s1 had on my cock or. hm I guess I'm the kind of person 2 use that metaphor now? but no television#could EVER come close to that so likeee it was still pretty good. season all about exhaustion and regret and not getting things#felt as if the finale could have been about twice as good by being 15 minutes longer b/c the abruptness caused certain meaningful parallels#to be unexplored. but for the themes of getting written out of your own story that's fine! it was Fine it was not outstanding it didn't mak#me do the tails gets trolled face. also what the fuck happened 2 hands did he even find out what happened to blackbeard at ANY point#felt like around ep5 it stopped being about any of the characters and started being only abt putting the cause to sleep because there's no#other way it could end which made it kinda painful given the overarching message of the REST of the show. also didn't love every woman bein#put at the end of their agency but it worked w the concept of having to mold back into the broken world. and I did fall very in love w how#silver's recount of what happened is TOTALLY open to disbelief. guy who is another guy who writes his ending for himself FOR that guy.#who only exists because of a story some guy made abt him / who only exists bcs of the story empire made abt him et Fucking Cetera#gotdamn! awesome show! I love a narrative#showsposting
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teddybeartoji · 3 months
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going to the beach with toji and kids for the first time ever. it's only the beginning of your relationship, it's all kind of new – toji doesn't know what's about to hit him. sure, he's seen you with megumi and tsumiki before, but this? this is something else.
not only is his heart doing flips at the sight of the big smiles and the loud bursts of laughter you're managing to pull out of his kids, you're also wearing a fucking bikini. he hasn't seen this much of you before – the furthest you've gone during the late hours of the nights are steamy, handsy makeouts. he did take your shirt off the last time he had you below him but then you were interrupted by the little spiky haired boy, sniffling about a bad dream. after grabbing a blanket to cover you up, toji rested his forehead against your warm skin, grumbling something under his breath before looking up at you with soft eyes. you weren't mad – quite the opposite; you ruffled his hair and cradled his face, a gentle smile splayed on your lips. you pressed a haste kiss to his nose and then ushered him off of you, whispering something about his adorable son. toji scoffed. and smiled to himself.
the bikini. is killing him. he doesn't know what to do with himself. the scene playing in front of him is heart-warming and he should only be thinking about that, but how can he? the material is barely covering anything and you just look so... fucking good.
sitting in the shade, toji let's his head loll back, his eyes closing as he rests his hand over his face with a groan. he can't do it anymore. he's doing brain exercises to not pop the hardest boner of his life and you are not making it any easier when you keep giving him the prettiest smiles. you're happy, the kids are happy – everything should be good, but no – here he is, suffering because his parter looks fucking amazing. the fact that this is even a problem is mind-baffling to him. he is a strong man, no person is going to get to him just by being beauti—
"could you pass me the water, please?"
you're out to get him, he's sure of it.
toji peeks from under his hand and he's immediately blinded by a devil in disguise. the sun shines from behind you like a halo and the grin on your lips reaches behind your ears. sweat coats your skin and it makes toji's mouth salivate. what the fuck are you doing to him? hands on your hips, you stare down at your boyfriend and you give him another second to collect himself before quirking up a brow.
"toji?" you sound like a siren, you're pulling him in with your silky smooth tone. "the water, please?"
the corners of your eyes crinkle as you smile and toji has never moved faster in his entire life. "right."
he reaches for the bottle in the cooler beside him and gives it to you while making sure to look at you in the eyes and nowhere else. it's unbelievably hard – especially when the water starts trickling from the corners of your mouth and down your neck. toji gulps before turning to look at his kids instead. gumi's brows are furrowed as he's building his sandcastle while miki is busy building hers. toji cracks a grin.
"they're so– fucking cute." you whisper when you curse, a playful smile on your lips as you gush about the kids.
you love them so much already and you're glad that they seem to be liking you a lot too. that makes toji very happy; when the kids ask about you when they haven't seen you in a few days, when you do the same – he knows you really might be the one. it's a big thing to say, to even think, but he can't help it. it simply seems... right.
the water bottle hangs in front of his face and he's pulled away from his thoughts again. he goes to grab it and when he does, your free hand reaches out to him. warm finger wrap around his wrist and he melts at the soft, gentle touch. "come play with us."
a groan bubbles from his throat but it couldn't be any further from an annoyed one – you're sweet and you're excited, you're pretty and you're patient; you always welcome him and the kids with open arms and a bright smile. she would've loved you.
he throws the bottle aside and wraps his own hand around your own. "ya wanna play or the kids wanna play?"
his raspy voice and the stupidly handsome smirk he gives you make butterflies bloom and dance in your stomach. he makes you giddy, he makes you happy.
"i wanna play." you tug at him. "and the kids wanna play."
he can't say no to his little blessings and he can't say no to you. maybe running around will help clear his mind from the mischievious thoughts in his head. he doubts it, but he's needs to try.
in one swift move, he pulls your hand to his mouth while pretending to bite you and his eyes fucking twinkle when he sees your cute surprised expression and hears your little gasp. there's a moment, a second of the most comfortable silence before the corners of your lips twitch and you yank away from his hold, booking it towards gumi and miki with a loud cackle as toji pushes off the chair and takes off after you with fast steps.
your cheeks hurt from laughing as you watch toji catch megumi; he lifts gumi up with just one hand while tsumiki tries to poke her dad in the ribs in order for him to let boy go. when he finally lets the kids go... you feel his eyes on you. adrenaline pumps in your veins and you feel like a deer caught in the headlights of a car. you can't stop grinning. he can't either. a pair of arms wrap around your middle and your feet are being lifted up above the ground before you can even react.
while the kids are doubled over, running and stumbling over their own feet, toji growls in your ear. "gotcha."
you will take the next step today. no snotty kid of his will cockblock him again – they will be tired from the day and you will be all his to take care of. he'll show you his appreciation for being so good to him and the kids, for being so kind. and so... fucking hot.
he presses a kiss to your jaw but cringes when gumi and miki dramatically scream 'ew' at him. you feel him getting even warmer, his cheeks heating up and you try to save him by shooing the kids with a laugh. toji is grateful. he's happy that you're here.
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screampied · 9 months
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squirting for the first time with jjk men?? 😫
❛ SLIPPERY WHEN WET! ❜
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sukuna, toji, getō, gojo, namami, choso. jjk men and their reaction to making you squirt for the first time
total wc. 3.6k
warnings. fem!reader, degradation, squirting, overstim, praise, fingering, unprotected sex, p*ssydrunk men, dumbification, pussyspanking, toy usage, edging. MDNI
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FUSHIGURO ☆ TOJI
“hm? ain’t no guy ever make ya squirt before?” he grunts. and you’re just absentmindedly being stuffed, both of your wrists gripped back with toji holding onto them, his strokes were mean and demanding. your head continued to thump and bounce against the soft silk pillow that rested underneath your head. all you could make out was a sweet pathetic ‘nuh-uh’ and toji raises his thin eyebrows in amusement. “no baby…? not even once?”
“no- don’t think i can, i tried myself but…”
he snickers. “silly girl. trust me, you can squirt,” you bit your lip, eyes nearly rolling back from his jagged thrusts, its so good you nearly feel drool start to run down the corners of your mouth, how embarrassing it was—yet you remained stupid from his dick, feeling the warmth of your pussy clench tight against him. “want me to test it out?”
“yeah,” you whine, your voice was a mere soft mewl, an almost mumble practically, and toji gifts your ass with a spank, eliciting a moan from your mouth. he grows cocky the minute a huh? leaves his mouth. so you correct yourself with a “y-yes.”
“….‘yeah’ what girl,” he groans, skimming his dark green eyes down to see how your body jerks underneath him. his weight lightly hovers against you, and he’s still got a firm grip with your wrists, having you pitifully tongue-tied. “taught you how to speak to me. so let’s try that again.”
arrogant bastard, what your thoughts originally said—making you purposely repeat yourself, but his cock always always made up for it.
“please,” you choke out, moaning from the way he deepens his thrusts just a tad bit, your mouth starts to water from the way your pussy twitches in content. “make me squirt toji. please. i wanna be messy for you.”
“aw that’s my girl,” he purrs, releasing his grip from your wrists, yet it remains still against your bare back, his thrusts snap against you to where a cute gasp leaves your lips. “but oh, you’ve been messy though, but there’s nothing wrong with that, princess,” he teases, such mockery escaping from his tone. “relax for me, yeah? you’ll feel it when it comes.”
“okay,” you moaned, your left cheek pressed up against the white sheets of the mattress. it was cute, your face being up against the bed as you’re being absolutely stuffed and pounded. you felt yourself tightening from the inside—a coil desperately awaiting to be snapped, a feeling you never knew you could feel, and you probably looked so dumb. “okay okay o-okay.”
you cutely kept sputtering, repeating and bracing yourself. toji brings a rough hand towards the back of your neck as he’s ramming his fat length from behind you, such thrusts has your body spasming and crying out for more, it feels like a orgasm being snatched away from you.
“give it to me, girl.” he grunts, giving your ass another mean spank. the immense build up. your legs judder continuously to where your mind goes blank like an empty canvas, empty..
“a-ah t-toji—!” you squeaked, and he’s so ruthless whenever it came to you, each time you try to sit up to turn around he shoved your head lightly back down, it’s so cute. “fuck, fuck. f-fuck, ‘s about to-” and a gasp interrupts your words the minute you squirt all down his shaft to his base, your sweet juices sheath and sheath all the way down and it’s so warm and hot.
the minute you end up squirting, your legs felt so weak, it just quavered and shook. “oh my g-god,” you sobbed, and he slows his sloppy thrusts against your cunt down—leaning up close to you, direct and personal. “there we go mama, my messy fuckin’ squirter,” he whispers, he’s pressed against your ass and wraps a few fingers around your neck. planting a kiss underneath your chin he murmurs. “you made such a mess. how’s it feel?”
“good. but feels w-wet toji.”
“eheh, well yeah girl, that’s kinda the point.” he snickers, playfully sinking his teeth into your neck, giving it a teasing nibble.
SUKUNA ☆ RYŌMEN
“hm? make you squirt huh? so greedy.. my fingering isn’t enough for you?” sukuna teases and you’re laid flat on your back with your legs lazily lifted up, more like he’s holding them up for you.
you moaned, feeling him slide a single digit in and out. he sneaks a wet kiss against your thigh before leaning in to press his lips against your pussy, tasting how sweet you were. “...kuna ‘m not greedy, just wanna see what it feels like, please..”
“you are greedy,” he grunts, giving your cunt a swift spank to make your legs twitch, “but sure thing.” he mutters, warm minty breath going against your clit. your head goes back and your mouth slightly opens and parts from the way he’s fingering you and eating you out. his lips latch and lock against your folds to make your eyes roll back. he was so filthy with his tongue let alone his fingers.
you sucked your teeth—feeling his two fingers push deep in and out, going past against that spot each time, instead of your eyes rolling you were practically crossed eyed.
“f-fuck, fuck, ‘s good ‘kuna...”
“i know. you keep saying that, dumb girl. quit talkin’ and start squirting.” and you lose count of how many mean slaps he gives your pussy. he’s so mean, yet found every few seconds to praise you and let you know how good you’re doing.
“h-hurry up and make me then.”
“little girl, watch it.” he grunts, gifting you a glare, his eyes pierce against yours before he sits up, spitting right on your pussy with a rough spat, he runs a single middle finger down your slit to snatch the tiny brat left in you. you meet eye contact and your slick was very much glistening his chin, being soaked with your sweetness.
your legs were so close, just the epitome of the word jittery with how it just shook, never once staying still. the stimulation he created with his tongue let alone his fingers, it had your mind boggled. “think ‘m getting close, f-fuck.”
“uh huh. fuckin’ bet you are.” he whistles in response—grabbing ahold of his dick and you let off a cute gasp at the way he swipes his throbbing leaky pre-swollen tip against your wetness. “look at that, princess.
so eager to jus’ swallow me up.” and he slowly makes his way inside your cunt, immediately your walls hug him as a response and you’re just at the very limit. “come on, let go for me. you dont gotta be shy around me, neither does this wet pussy.”
the minute you squirt…it’s embarrassing, sukuna only smacks about five deep thrusts against your cunt and you’re already making a mess all over his base. “s-so good.” you’d cry out, and he’s staring at you.
a grunt departs his lips before he leans in to kiss you, pulling out only to ghost his fingers against your clit.
“you’re such a nasty girl,” he murmurs against your lips, you moan—tasting your own slick that ran down his chin, the sharp edges of his teeth playfully nibbling down on your lip. his body heat against yours made you feel tingly and even more in such heat. “tell me you’re my nasty girl, baby.”
“i-i’m a nasty girl, ‘kuna.” you moaned.
he gives you a dead stare—and you whine once he slips two fingers inside your throbbing pussy.
“i’m your nasty girl, ‘kuna.” you rephrased, and a cocky grin forms on his lips.
“what a good obident girl. think i like you.”
NANAMI ☆ KENTO
“you sure sweetheart?” he asks in a soft mumble, he has a wand in hand. the ringing of the toy rings against your ears as your legs were sprawled apart for him. “you want me to make you…squirt?”
“yes p-please, kento.” you nod, the cuteness bestowed upon your lips was beyond words to describe. the way your lip quivered, it was barely up a few notches yet you throbbed and throbbed. despite it only being a good ten minutes. you’re just a whimpering mess.
eager to touch yourself, you reach down to play with your pussy before he grabs it, kissing the back of your hand.
he chuckles. “oh baby…baby, gotta keep those hands to yourself if you want me to make you messy. okay? no touching.”
“s-sorry kento.”
“aw, don’t be sorry. squirt, princess.” he teases, a hum underneath his tone he was so gentle with you, with his touch yet your legs felt like they were pretty much about to give out.
the stimulation made your teeth nearly chatter, toes clench and your back nearly arching. he finds you to be so pretty like this. flat on your chest, drool running down your mouth against the pillow with your mind empty.
you hold in a moan, teeth lightly piercing down on your lip to help silence yourself from the immense pleasure, the overstim from just releasing had your chin just hovering over your arm.
“o-one more level kento.”
“more? it’s gonna be on four, dunno if my cute whiney princess can handle that.”
“p-please, need it. i wanna-”
you moan at the swift sound of nanami swiping a thumb across the vibrating toy feeling the impulses throb against your sweet cunt, indeed it now being a level higher from three and it’s so good you can just taste the urge to let yourself go.
the sudden feeling of his sneaking fingers to brush and slither against your puffy folds was just enough to send you to burst—your mouth slightly went agape, and you’re just stupid. “n-nanami.”
“so dumbstruck you said nanami instead of kento, such a sweet thing,” and you end up squirting the minute he rubs the toy in a circular motion—maneuvering it against you along with fingers to ghost and run alongside your achy pussy. “easy, ‘s okay. lie down on your chest. jus’ let go for me baby, yeah.”
“such a gorgeous girl,” he whispers in awe, leaning down to kiss your clit which turns to countless smooches, mwah after mwah and your legs were practically mush by now. “let me clean you all up with my tongue, ‘m your husband, least i could do. so relax for me, my love.”
SUGURU ☆ GETO
“oh? i’ve made you squirt before, no?” he cackles, leaning back against the headrest of the couch.
“no,” you whined, still getting over your post-orgasm, his cock stood firm inside of you, such inches of his kept you warm with your hands pressed against his chest. geto stares at you with intrigued darkened eyes. having you sat on his lap, legs still barely recovered a few minutes ago. “don’t think you ever did...”
geto grips your waist, sliding a tongue across his lips before muttering in a sly coy tone. “mhm hmm,” and he’s so sassy, even having the audacity to roll his eyes at you. black specks of hair trickle down and paint the lower half of his body. geto’s happy trail was always appetizing to look at.
“this your little way of asking me to make you soak yourself on me, angel? how cute.” he grins.
“…sugu—” and you gasp at the way he grunts the minute the pads of his thumbs lightly press and pierce into your skin. he starts making you bounce against him and your mouth opens, such lewd whines exit your lips before you throw your arms around his neck.
“wanna squirt, do it yourself. fuck me baby. show me how bad you want it,” and he groans how he’s so stuffed. so full of cum still, hefty base pounding and thwacking back against your pussy. “you’re a big girl. do it y-yourself, mhm…shit.”
he was so teasingly sly, making you rut yourself against him, in the end you always had to do pretty much everything yourself whenever it came to geto.
“…okay,” you choked out, and he playfully leans back — tiny beads of sweat running down the side of his forehead as well as the very middle part of his chiseled v-line.”
it felt so good, you’re dumbly grating your teeth together, still so sensitive, the only cacophony that left your lips was cute whimpers of, “s-sugu,” “…want you s’bad,” and even, “you’re so mean.”
he chuckles at how dumb you grew out to be simply from being stuffed full of thick inches of his dick. “gotta be mean to deal with a pussy this wet.”
his girth had you running for your money, toes clinching as you started to rollick and jerk your hips against him, reaching a hand down to play with yourself before you whine. “f-feel it, suguru.”
“yeah? what are you waitin’ for then?” he purrs.
he chuckled at the sudden moments where you’d grow quiet — he knows how good he’s getting underneath your skin with his vexatious teasing.
his cock expanded in and out the more you moved your hips against him, your soft breaths getting caught in your throat before it comes, you squirt at the same time geto came and he’s caught off guard by the sticky messy feeling, he’s the one who slips off a whine. “s-shit..”
it came out a lot…
let alone with him soaking your cunt full of his own, you really felt stuffed and full to the very depths of it, it felt like a sharp coil within you snapped. geto starts panting, and he takes a moment to blink before grunting, staring away with a flustered face. “don’t look at me. finish fucking me, hmph.”
SATORU ☆ GOJO
“pretty please, ‘toru,” you’d whine out, and he was just straight up cocky and mean, teasing you with having you on all fours, impatient and desperately desperate. “i wanna…wanna squirt.”
“i know you do,” he laughs, playfulness ran all over his tone before he gives your ass a squeeze. that earned a needy moan out of you and you but down on your lip while staring at the fat sheets of the mattress underneath you. “are you asking me to make you squirt or are ya tellin’ me, pretty girl?”
he was so infuriating. even while being plugged in with so much of his thick inches, even just barely with the way he kept swiping his fat tip against your slit, awaiting you.
“….‘m asking, s-satoru.”
he whirrs a playful tone before flipping you over on your back to face him, and then he smiles. “okay. if that’s what you want,” and his voice was so low—a tad bit raspy with pompous smugness all over his sentences. “since i know how impatient ‘n horny you are all the damn time, i’ll make ya squirt in about one minute.”
a minute?
was that even possible—you always heard about how it would take at least longer than that but then you remembered who you were dealing with. gojo satoru and his long pretty fingers that never failed to stretch your pussy out. he was forever proud of that fact, he’d make you soaking wet from not only his dick, his mouth, but especially his fingers.
“it’s gonna get messy, ‘m warning you,” he teases, pulling you up a bit to place a towel down underneath your back. he leans in to pepper kisses underneath your chin before seconds later, he moves his length aside with a grip — before slowly stuffing a single long finger inside, which after a few milliseconds, turns into another. “now, i’m gonna need you to be a good wet girl and jus’ relax for me.”
his words were soothing. you could hardly comprehend anything so his sentences went straight towards your clit, throbbing and throbbing you wanted more. he finds it cute how you grip onto his wrist, babbling about how you don’t want him to stop. “o-okay, satoru. okay.”
you shudder at the feeling of him grazing a thumb down your slit and he moves his head down between your legs to blow softly against your pussy and you moan, feeling him create a good amount of pressure to where you bare down against his fingers easily as if it came natural.
“sweet girl,” he groans, giving your pussy a kittenish suck. your eyes went back in pleasure and you whined at the feeling of his two fingers just smacking in and out of you now. the noises, they were so loud you could hardly even believe it was coming out of you. “hear how wet this sloppy pussy is? yeah girl, that’s you.”
his words that went through your ear and out the other and it got you so wet. his degradation had you pulsing, you felt the inside of your tummy tighten, muscles clenching with you lying down on your back, bracing yourself. gojo was patient with you, occasionally bringing soft kisses towards your clit. you whined before he started to grow more feral, sucking and latching his tongue against your folds while still having two fingers stuffed inside your pussy.
your brain doesn’t even process you’re squirting before gojo lets off a, “oopsie,” the minute you squirt out on his fingers, the front tips of his fingers massage and toy and prod against that spot you always grew to know—and you moan at the way he easily stole a orgasm from you like that, within a single span of a minute.
“aw. you look like you just saw your life flash before your eyes, baby,” then he sits up to face you. both arms pressed around you before muttering in a teasing tone, “want a taste? open your mouth.”
and he gives you the most sloppiest kiss, shoving his tongue down your throat before grunting, you moan in his mouth. your legs wrapped around his slim waist before he squeezes a hand down on your pussy only to spank it roughly, breaking away for a bit before whispering, “good girl. now gimme one more. wanna see if i can do it within thirty seconds.”
CHOSO ☆ KAMO
“b-baby…you wanna do that?” choso mumbles, staring in awe as the both of you watched some random eight minute compilation of women squirting. he was staring intently, and then he only grew more flustered at picturing you like that. legs all spread, eyes rolled back and maybe your tongue stupidly lolled out. “um.. squirt?”
“yes…” you nodded, sitting on his lap. he throbbed behind you, still a bit tingly from his recent orgasm of fucking you.
you pressed against his back and his chin cutely rests against your shoulder. choso’s always been a bit inexperienced whenever it came to well, women. he’s had sex sure….but he doesn’t think he’s ever made a girl do this, this thing called squirting. not until you brought it up.
the more he watched it, the more he moaned to himself at imagining you being all messy like that.
“okay baby, i can do it,” he murmurs in a soft voice.
he brings a hand between your legs and pries it open just a bit, “lie back,” he moans, seeing your legs sprawl open slowly for him made him lick his lips, he was so hungry for you. you had the phone in your hand so he could watch, imitate the exact ways to make a woman squirt with ease and it was so cute how attentive he was. “s-stimulate the um…g-spot a little like this,” he mumbles to himself, and you moan once he slowly inserts two slender long fingers inside your pussy, you were so wet he lets off a cute, “o-oh….”
his eyes multitasked, turning its focus towards you and the screen that played the lewd video at the same time. “like that c-choso, please.”
“i’m doing a good job?” he says, and it’s almost into a form of a whine. all because he’s so desperate to hear your praise and approval, he feels his stomach flip in a good way at feeling you nod against his chest, affirming him to not stop. “okay, okay,” he mutters. “add a little um…p-pressure, consistent pressure until you feel a spongey like texture deep towards the clit.”
you moaned, his words matched his fingers, you tried to squeeze your thighs together but remembered you couldn’t because they were open.
your head rested back against his chest and with a right hand squeezing down onto his thigh, you felt your leg start to bounce. “m-more.”
“don’t wanna rush this baby,” he kisses the back of your forehead. a small pout going across your lips before he continues, pausing to hear the voice on the video that’s instructing speak.
he leans against your ear, strands of his hair poking against you before he murmurs. “bare against my fingers princess. squeeze down a little ‘n relax. can you do that?”
you choke out a moan once you obey his words, doing exactly what he says before you feel a sudden rush reaching out, you never felt this feeling before such a high you craved and chased you felt dizzy, a good kind of a dizzy.
“c-choso, ‘s coming, ‘s coming,” you moaned, your legs not able to hold themselves still. he has a perfect bowling ball grip with his fingers, stroking gently against you to where your mouth salivates with your own saliva.
“…fuck,” you sobbed, the warmth of him massaging his long fingers inside of you made you taste every number of tastebuds that resided on your tongue.
the moment you gush out and squirt, coating his fingers clean of your sheeny pretty slick, you flop back against his chest and you can ever hear a tiny gasp leave his lips. “w-wow,” he whispers in shock — with how much you squirted, he was so fascinated, growing more and more curious and it was adorable. “can you…can we do that again? please?”
17K notes · View notes
happy74827 · 2 months
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Feels Like Home
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[Logan Howlett x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: You decide to take it upon yourself to become best friends with Wade’s new grumpy addition to the family (much to Logan’s dismay).
WC: 2453
Category: Fluff, Sunshine!Reader x Grumpy!Logan trope {TW: Bar Fight, Handsy Drunk Dude, Mentions of Blood + Bruising}.
[Dedicated to: @iluvloganhowlett] I finished it for you!! (I’m shocked at the speed too don’t worry 💀). Hopefully this fluffiness will help add onto the low supply out there.
And incase anyone hasn’t seen it yet: DEADPOOL & WOLVERINE SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT
『••✎••』
You’ve always had a keen eye when it came to others. It’s mostly why you and Wade get along so well; you’re the one person who can see straight through him. And while it means you are very close, it also meant that you can easily tell when something is going on with someone you don't know that well, like the tall, brooding man named Logan, who had just joined the club of misfits.
You could tell by the way he carried himself that he had been through hell and back. He was quiet, grumpy, and had a tendency to snap at Wade, which, most of the time, was a well-deserved snapping.
You could also tell that there was more to him. He wasn't just a grumpy guy; there was something about him that made you want to be his friend. Maybe it was the sadness in his eyes, or maybe it was how lonely he looked.
Either way, you knew he was in need of a good friend, and you wanted to be that friend. Not a pestering one like Wade, but the kind of friend that just makes you feel a bit better.
So, when you spotted him, downing glass after glass of whiskey for the third day in a row, you just knew you had to help.
And he hated it. Oh, man, he absolutely hated it. You were such a happy ray of sunshine, always smiling, always laughing. He found it so fucking annoying. He couldn't deal with you and your constant positivity. It was like you were the PG-13 version of the breathing ballsack next to you.
But you wouldn't give up. Every time you saw him, you would try to cheer him up by making silly jokes, giving him small gifts, or even just sending him encouraging smiles.
He didn't want any of it, but it seemed you were too stubborn to listen. Every small note you’d given him was left crinkled in the trash; every gift was placed away without ever being touched. Your smile never got a response.
That is, until one day, as you walked by him, he mumbled something that almost made you trip over.
"Thanks."
You stopped in your tracks and turned around to face him, a look of disbelief on your face. You had tried so hard to cheer him up for the past few weeks, and this was the only thing you got from him? You couldn't believe it.
You had spent so much time and effort trying to make him feel better, and this was all he could say to you?
You wanted to hug him. To scream to the skies and celebrate that he finally accepted your kindness.
You held the restraint to do so, though. You didn’t want to cause him to close off again, and so instead, you sent him a soft smile, and a small nod, before you resumed walking (running) to your friends.
The next day, however, you were met with the biggest surprise of your life.
Logan was sitting at the bar, drinking. He didn't look too different, still dressed in his trademark blue jeans and flannel shirt, but his face was still holding that sadness you had grown used to seeing on him.
You walked over to him and sat down beside him, that classic smile of yours plastered on your face.
"Hi!"
He groaned. "You're not going to leave me alone, are you?"
"Nope!" You replied cheerfully, popping the 'p.'
He grumbled under his breath and downed the last of his drink, signaling to the bartender for another.
"Come on, Wolvie," you said, nudging his shoulder. "Lighten up. Life's not that bad, is it?"
He turned to glare at you, his dark brown eyes piercing into yours. "It's Logan," he said, his voice a low growl.
You shrugged and leaned closer to him, propping your elbow on the counter. This was the usual part—the part where he would give vocal responses while you carried on your one-sided conversation with him.
The difference this time, the surprise of it all, was when a person approached the both of you. Mind you, a very drunk person.
"Heyyyyy, baby girl," he slurred, his hand landing on your shoulder.
You turned to him, and he was looking you up and down with that gaze you knew had only one intention. You still smiled, though, and politely moved his hand off your shoulder.
"Uh, hi?" You answered unsurely.
He slammed his elbow on the counter, his palm on his fist. "You are gorgeous," he commented, and you had to hold back the laughter that was bubbling in your throat.
"Thank you," you chuckled.
Logan scoffed, rolling his eyes, but you paid him no mind. Usual behavior from him, nothing new.
"No, really," the stranger continued, moving his arm around your shoulders, "I think you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
"Well, I'm glad you think so," you answered, still chuckling. "But, I think you're a little drunk."
"Drunk on love," he responded, "Say, wanna get out of here? I'll show you a real good time."
Here comes the awkward part, you thought.
You shook your head, and removed his arm from around your shoulders. "Thank you for… uh, the kind offer," you answered, "But, no, thank you."
You expected him to shrug it off and leave or to just be a dick, as many drunken guys are. But no, this guy did not know how to take a hint.
Instead, he tightened his grip around you and pulled you closer to him, his free hand moving down your waist. "Come on, baby," he said, his words slurring. "You know you want to."
You sighed. You were really hoping it wouldn't have to come to this.
You were about to speak, to politely, yet firmly, tell him to leave you alone, but before you could open your mouth, a gruff voice beat you to it.
"She said no,"
He didn’t even look at the man or you. His eyes were still fixated on the counter as if he was talking to his glass, but he had turned his head a bit to the side so that you could hear him clearly.
The drunk stranger was startled by the sudden intervention. He let go of you and looked over at Logan, confusion clear in his face.
"Who the hell are you?" he asked, his brows furrowed.
"Does it matter?" Logan grumbled.
"Yeah, it does," the stranger retorted, his slurring voice suddenly getting serious. "If I'm gonna be having fun, I don't want an audience."
Oh, how you hated confrontations.
Logan just scoffed with a slight hint of a smile, shaking his head as he still refused to turn around.
"Trust me, pal," he replied, "I ain't interested in watching you do anything."
"Good." He went back to his obnoxious grin, now directing his attention back to you. Oh, man, he was an eyesore.
"So, how about it, beautiful? Wanna head somewhere else?" He slurred.
You were about to reply, again, with a polite rejection, but your shoulder was being grabbed at again, and if it wasn’t for the small training session that Colossus had put you through, you were sure you would have lost your footing.
"Can you let go of me, please?" You asked politely, but the man was a brick wall.
"Nah, sweetheart," he shook his head, and the movement was so intense, you could almost hear the alcohol sloshing around in his head, "You're comin' with me. Trust me, you’ll be perfectly taken care of."
That was when the sound of glass slamming against the counter reached your ears, and you didn't have to see the source of the sound to know it was Mr. Grumps.
What you struggled for what seemed like an eternity, he took that needy arm away from your shoulders within a fraction of a second. It was almost shocking how quick he was, but then again, you knew what he was capable of.
With you safe against the counter, Logan turned to face the stranger, his face still showing that same neutral expression as before, though his eyes held an intensity that made the man flinch.
Normal people would believe he had the patience of a saint. But you weren’t a normal person. You knew this was dangerously close to making him lose it.
"Uh, Logan… maybe we should—"
But your words fell on deaf ears. The only thing that Logan could hear was the weak excuses the guy was trying to give as he tried to pull his hand from the tight grasp Logan had it in.
"Hey, man," he stuttered, his words slurring as the panic set in, "What’s your problem? Let go of me!
But Logan had no intentions of doing so. He held the stranger's arm firmly, his grip growing tighter until he could hear a small crack coming from the guy's bones.
"What's your damage, huh?" the guy continued, trying his best to keep his voice from breaking. "It's just a little fun, right, baby?"
You cringed as his eyes fell back onto you, and the pleading tone of his voice was beginning to make your skin crawl.
"Look, uh," you started, looking anywhere but his eyes, "I don't think—"
"Listen," the man continued, and your eyes fell shut. God, he was just not going to stop. "Maybe you can join us? Huh, big boy? That’s what it is, right? You want her all for yourself?"
Uh, oh.
"Logan, don’t—"
It was too late. He had already snapped, and with a grunt, he pulled the man closer to him, his other hand forming a fist around his shirt.
"Wanna say that again?" He growled. "Do it. I dare you."
The man was trembling in his grasp, but he was clearly too drunk to understand the danger he was in.
"Oh, I'm sorry, are you her boyfriend?" He taunted, and the fact that he had the guts to do so while his hand was in a painful hold was astonishing, even for you. "Or are you just some guy with a crush? Cause, honestly, it's pretty pathetic. You can't even ask her out."
His words had Logan seeing red, and before you could do anything, the guy was pushed away and was about to be on the receiving end of one of the strongest punches you've ever seen.
So, riskily, to protect yourself and him from being thrown out of his favorite place, you jumped off the stool and slid in between them as he launched his punch, just stopping inches away from your face.
"Please," you said, your palms up and in front of you, as if that would do anything to stop the rage he was feeling, "Please, calm down."
"Calm down?" He repeated, his voice rising. "Are you kidding me?"
"You need to let it go," you told him. "He's drunk, Logan. He doesn't know what he's saying."
"And, what," he retorted, his anger slowly fading away, "Does it look like I give a single fuck about that?"
You sighed, your eyes meeting his, and that was enough for him to finally give in. His clenched fist dropped, and he released a frustrated sigh.
The dude behind you started laughing, his voice sounding as if he was trying to make fun of a fight scene.
"So," he chuckled, "That's it, huh? You're not gonna do shit? You’re just as pathetic as a—"
He gently moved you aside, and in an instant, the man was lying on the floor with a bloody nose, a black eye, and a few broken ribs.
You could only hold your head in your hands, knowing very well the mess you were about to have to deal with.
And it didn't take long.
As soon as Logan stepped away from the drunk idiot, security was on him, grabbing his arms and restraining him. He couldn’t care less, though, as he held a sadistic grin on his face, pleased with his work while being escorted out.
And, so, there, the two of you were on the steps of the apartment building. You, holding your hands in your lap, and he, staring up at the night sky.
The air was warm, the city lights were dim, and the sky was covered in clouds. There was an odd silence between the two of you, which wasn’t really all that odd, but the events of the night had changed the atmosphere.
"Thanks," you spoke, breaking the quiet. "For, you know, standing up for me."
"He was a douche," he stated, his voice gruff. "Someone had to send that fucktart crying home to mommy."
"You shouldn’t have done that, though," you told him. "Now, you’re probably banned from the bar. I know it's your favorite."
"Eh," he shrugged, "Booze is booze. There are plenty more places to get drunk."
You didn't respond. Instead, you focused your attention on the small bugs flying around the dim light next to the door.
"You shouldn't be thanking me, anyway," he continued, turning to you. That was new. "I should be the one thanking you."
You looked at him, your brows furrowed. This whole conversation was getting weird. "Uh, what for?" You asked, confused.
"For putting up with me," he replied, shrugging.
"Putting up with you?" You repeated, not understanding. "I don't understand."
"Y'know," he continued, his gruff voice a little less gruff. "Sticking around. Being friendly. Having… patience. I can be…I can be a real dick. Honestly, I still don't get why you keep trying."
The smile that found its way to your lips waa the most genuine one he's ever seen. Your eyes were full of kindness and understanding, and your lips, which usually held a grin or a smirk, were turned upwards in a soft, gentle smile.
"Logan," you said, your voice low. "You may be a grump, and you might not be the friendliest guy, but that doesn't mean you don't deserve kindness. Everyone deserves that… or at least a little bit of it."
He scoffed. "That's funny," he replied, turning his head away.
You furrowed your brows and cocked your head, confused. "What is?" You asked.
"I used to think," he began, "That no one would ever look at me in the way you do. Not after what I’ve done… not after what I am."
"You're a good man, Logan," you told him. "You proved who you were when you willingly helped Wade."
"Maybe," he sighed, his gaze meeting yours. "But, there's still a lot you don't know about me. I'm not exactly a knight in shining armor."
"Oh, my dear, Wolvie," you said playfully, leaning closer to him and placing your palm on his shoulder, "You never were."
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januaryembrs · 6 months
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CROSS MY HEART | Spencer Reid x wife!Reader
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Request: read here
description: Spencer's wife struggles with the aftermath of JJ's confession
length: 1.5k
warnings: JJ's 14x15 confession spoilers (big ick, pull yourself together Jennifer) infidelity, thoughts of worthlessness, reader thinks Spencer is going to leave her for JJ.
authors note: I have loved JJ for all of fourteen seasons and fourteen episodes. this was a BIG ICK for me watching this won't lie
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She should have known something was wrong the minute they left that damn store. 
It took her all of two seconds to throw herself into her husband’s arms, her voice choked with tears that had threatened to spill when she’d seen the video of Casey shooting at him, and she swore Spencer had never grabbed her so tight. 
“I thought you,” She sniffled, running her fingers through the back of his scalp, the entire spanse of his huge hands ran along her spine, counting every vertebra to make sure she was still intact, despite the fact he had been the one held hostage, “I thought he’d shot you- it came so close,” 
He hushed her mewls, a hand reaching to the back of her head and tucked her into his neck further, the sob rattling through her ribcage almost, almost, taking his mind entirely off what JJ had said in that stupid game of truth or dare. 
What the fuck did she mean she had always loved him? She had a husband and children who doted on her; Will, who loved every shred of her being like it was his only purpose in the world. His godsons who had known him as uncle Spencer since he’d held them in the hospital, covered in goop and looking like the cutest little aliens he’d ever seen. 
And yet JJ, his friend, perhaps one of his longest friends, was willing to throw it away for him? He, who had a wife he adored more than there were birds in the wind, leaves on an Autumn floor, more than there were galaxies in the damn cosmos. His wife, who had been there for him since the moment they’d met, who he’d known was the one since that first day she’d ran into him in the lobby, their files mixing together because neither of them had been watching where they were going, like one of those romcoms she forced him to watch and he pretended to hate, or like the silly thing she called fate that she insisted was very much real. 
Spencer was a man of statistics and numbers and facts; things he could see. But he was sure there was nothing in any textbook that could have ever made sense of how the one person so perfectly created for him, the blob of cells that made up his wife that seemed to call to his own as if they were coming home to one another, would have just so happened to bump into him on a random Tuesday in August. 
Most people waited decades for that kind of love, or something close, and he’d managed to get it at the ripe age of thirty three. 
And yet in the space of ten seconds, of four little words in a wretched game, he felt like the carpet had been pulled from beneath him. Because why would JJ, who saw as clearly as anyone else how much he cherished his wife and the future they were planning together, try to take that away from him?
And as if his own odd spiral of thoughts wasn’t a kick to the gut enough, his sweet wife had quickly released him from her grasp and thrown herself at JJ, who seemed to just now be understanding the gravity of her words as she looked around with wide eyes, tear stains wetting her cheeks, the guilt gnawing in her gut already. 
“JJ! Are you okay? Oh, you poor thing, you must have been so scared,” She sobbed, wrapping her friend in a loving hug that was shakily reciprocated, like JJ was waiting for the second she would get a fat shiner to the nose for confessing such a thing. 
But that never happened. Instead, she pulled away from the frozen blonde woman, who looked like she could burst into tears then and there and apologise for everything until her face turned blue, and ran a kind hand over the JJ's hair, stroking it behind her ear tenderly as she tried to quell her cries because she wasn't the one who had been held at gunpoint. 
She didn’t know. It hit them both at the same time. She didn’t know what JJ had said, hadn’t even got an inkling into what had happened, and god did it make the sinking feeling in Spencer’s chest swallow itself up into something the size of the Mariana Trench. 
And what was left, what had for a second been a horrid mix of confusion, shock, fear and then another big dollop of confusion for good measure, quickly was dragged away by the current and replaced with anger. 
Anger that JJ could do something like this to his wife; he frankly didn’t care how her words had affected him, that if he had been single he would have been left feeling unworthy of her affection the first time it had been offered around, like there was something so disgustingly wrong with him this was what it took for her to say anything. He didn’t care about any of that. He cared that this would absolutely destroy his wife. 
And it was for that reason Spencer hurried the paramedics into fixing the small graze on his palm as he watched with boiling blood his wife tend to JJ like she would any other time her close friend was hurt in the field. He seethed whenever Jennifer would simper and avoid her friend's eyes, how his beautiful, caring, devoted wife would stroke the woman’s back and will her to talk, to tell her what to do to make it better.
Because it was her who should be fussing over his sweet wife, certainly not the other way around. 
But he couldn’t say that, not there at least, and so he didn’t, not until he had got the greenlight from the medics to leave and he had all but cut off the circulation in her fingers with how tight he’d held her hand as he led her to the car. 
Spencer said nothing, not wanting to fight when she forced him to sit shotgun as she climbed behind the wheel, not wanting to cause a commotion when there was a much bigger bombshell he was sitting on that he knew would change her feelings entirely. 
-
“What?” Her voice was soft still, a murmur in the quiet night air of their bedroom. She sat, fresh faced, minty breathed, kevlar vest long gone and replaced with one of his old Dr Who shirts and comfy bottoms.
She said the word again, like she hadn’t heard him, but judging by the way her expression had fallen into something dejected, he knew that wasn’t the case. 
Sighing, drawing gentle motions up and down her legs with his warm hands, shuffled closer where he kneeled down in front of her submittingly. “JJ said that she has always loved me; that was her ‘truth’ in the game,”
“Well, she-she was lying right?” His wife said quickly, her voice shaking, trying to make sense of it herself. She didn’t get an answer right away, just her husband’s eyes casting down as he tried to think of the best thing to say, “Right, Spencer?” 
“I don’t know,” He said earnestly, and he saw immediately the way tears sprung to her eyes, her bottom lip trembling, her face warming in wet-anger, “But it doesn’t change anything, sweetheart. It doesn’t matter, to me- baby, please don’t cry,”
“Ofcourse it changes things, Spencer, it’s JJ. She’s literally the hottest woman to walk the earth, Pen said you were like in love with her when you started the BAU, and now you have your chance,” She whimpered, fat tears rolling over her freshly moisturised cheeks, and he swore he felt his chest concave at her words. 
“My chance? I don’t want a chance, I want you,” Spencer said in earnest, his hands rubbing further and further up her legs until his hands went under her night shirt, grabbing onto the soft of her hips with pleading tenderness, “I want you forever, no matter what JJ or any other woman feels about me,” 
She sniffled pitifully, her eyes still unsure and he took it as a sign she needed more, so he leaned in fully to hug her to him. 
“But it’s JJ,” She said again, like that was going to change anything, and he shook his head, stroking over the back of her hair softly.
“I don't care,” He said, and she sniffed gently into the crook of his neck, his skin wetting with the contact. She finally wrapped her arms around him, and he knew he was close to getting it through to her, “I had the smallest crush on JJ, what, fifteen years ago? Honey, I want you for the rest of my life, and nothing and no one is going to change my mind about that, not even you.” 
“Really?” His sweet wife whispered tearfully, and he chuckled sadly, hating how hard she had cried that it had ripped the life from her voice. 
“Cross my heart,” He kissed her hairline softly, tipping her head upwards with one long, warm finger under her chin, pressing a gentle kiss to her wetted lips, “Hope I never die,”
She smiled sorrowfully, kissing her husband as if it was the last time she could ever do so, hoping it made up for how puffy and ugly her tears had made her face. But he didn’t care, he never had, he thought she was perfect just the way she was.
And he’d remind her of that any time she thought otherwise. 
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obsesssedblerd · 1 month
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Shut me up
“No, no, please, you don’t understand—we need to have a room with two beds instead of one.” 
From the middle of the bed, Satoru scoffs at the sound of your desperate pleas to the receptionist over the phone. You pace back and forth, groaning when you’re told that it was the last room. “I know that we booked last minute, but— Oh…. this is the only room available? …I see. Goodnight.” 
When you hang up, Satoru doesn’t stop his laugh, and the sound of it immensely amplifies your frustration. “You’re so pissed off,” he says as you cross your arms and glare at him. “It’s hilarious. Well, princess, looks like we’re here for the night. Get comfortable.” 
“Hell no,” you say, reaching into your bag to grab your phone. “I’m gonna ask Yaga for another place. There has to be another inn that’s close to the curse we’re tracking, and has two beds.” 
Satoru gets up from the bed and walks over to you, gently plucking your phone out of your hands and placing it on the dresser. “Yaga is asleep right now, and he worked his ass off to get this place for us at the very last minute.”
Good point. “Fine, I’ll sleep on the floor.” 
“Quit being ridiculous.” The asshole smirks, his blue eyes sparkling mischievously. “So flustered at the idea of sharing a bed with me. We’re just sleeping. You’re not thinking about anything dirty, are you?” 
“Huh?! No,” you hiss. “What the hell is wrong with you?” 
He doesn’t stop his teasing. “Hm. Sounds like you’re lying.” 
“Fuck you, Satoru,” you say, walking over to your bag and grabbing some clothes comfortable to sleep in. “And I’m not flustered. Just hate the idea of being so close to someone I can’t stand.” You head into the bathroom to shower and change before he can say anything else. “If you snore tonight, I’m kicking you.”
You can’t sleep. How could you? The room is quiet, and all you can think about is the man beside you. Speaking of, you hear Satoru shift, and the faint aroma of the expensive body wash he used while showering fills your nose. You hate to think it, but he does smell good. You look at the clock on the nightstand, and sigh quietly. Almost midnight. 
“Are you awake?” Satoru asks, and you pretend that you don’t hear him. 
You feel a poke in your ribs, and you shriek. “What the hell?!” 
“Pfft. Knew you were up.” He chuckles. “Ticklish?” 
“Do you need something?” 
“Nah, I just wanted to bother you.” 
You inhale sharply in an attempt to calm yourself, then turn around to face him. Though the room was mostly dark, you can still see him due to the moonlight shining through the window of the room. He’s lying on his side with his head resting against his arm, which was propped up on his pillow. 
“You’re like a child,” you say flatly as you roll your eyes. 
The corner of his mouth lifts in amusement. “Mhm.” 
“And you talk too much.”
“Tell me more.” 
“Extremely annoying, I can’t stand when you show up to missions late sometimes because you want sugar, and you joke around way too much when we’re supposed to be serious. Yaga, Suguru, and Shoko think that, too.”
He chuckles again, and you ignore the way your stomach flutters at the sound of it. “Aw, come on. You tell me that almost everyday. Give me something new.” 
“And give you that satisfaction? Nope,” you say, popping the ‘p’ as you turn back around to face the wall. “I think you’re the most ridiculous person I’ve ever worked with,” you conclude. 
“Well, you know what I think?” He asks, and you hum in question. You hear the bed creak as he moves, and your heart begins to pound when you sense him directly behind you. If you were to shift back even just a tiny bit, your back would be against his chest. 
“I think you’re full of shit,” he says near your ear, his voice dropping an octave lower. You feel his hand gently rest on your shoulder. 
“How so?” You whisper.
His hand begins to slowly slide down your arm, goosebumps rising on your skin. “You think I’m the most ridiculous person you’ve ever worked with, but you keep working with me,” he purrs, his breath fanning the shell of your ear. “At any moment, you can tell Yaga to quit having us do missions together, but you don’t. I always end up seeing you even though you say you hate looking at me.”
You feel his hand softly drift across your hip, then rest there, his fingers lightly playing with the hem of your shirt. Then, they slip underneath, drawing light, teasing patterns on your skin. Your breath hitches. 
You feel warm. 
“Saw how you looked at me when I got out of the shower earlier,” he says, and your stomach twists. Of course he did. Nothing ever gets past Satoru Gojo. “You were practically drooling while watching me put a shirt on.” 
“I-” You clear your throat. “I wasn’t.”
“You’re such a liar.” 
His lips press a feather-light kiss to your neck—on a spot where you’re very sensitive, and you gasp, but instinctively tilt your head to give him a bit more access. When you catch yourself, you straighten, and Satoru only scoffs. “See? It’s obvious.” 
“...What’s obvious?” 
“You want me.” 
You turn around again, ready to tell him that this was the dumbest thing you’ve heard him say all night, but he puts a finger to your lips, effectively stopping your words before you can get them out. “You want me,” he says again, “but you don’t know how to deal with that. So, you pretend that you hate me when you and I both know that it’s not true.” He then smiles again, his eyes dark with want. “But I see right through it. You’re not subtle. Anyway, you have a choice. You can either continue with your lying, or you can actually do something about it.” 
It takes a lot out of you to keep your hands out of the way so you don’t strangle him and then pull him closer. “Something like what?” You ask.
“You think I talk too much.” He leans closer to you; your faces nearly touching. You swallow once, his eyes tracking the movement of your throat as you do. Then his smile grows, inviting—no, daring you to make a move. 
“So shut me up.”
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just-some-little-lads · 2 months
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A Late Night
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Summary: You come back home after a long day only to find Sylus waiting for you, acting a bit differently than normal. Word Count: 1.1k SFW, Second Person POV, GN MC.
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Being a Hunter was good work; you knew that. However, heroism or not, long days could still have you cursing under your breath, dreaming of living in isolated peace by some lakeside. Dragging your feet, you contemplated calling in sick tomorrow. The key to your apartment flailed clumsily on it’s ring before finally turning in the slot. Shoes kicked to the shadows, work bag abandoned on the floor, you didn’t even bother turning on your lights before flopping on your couch. With your eyes closed, you were two alluring seconds away from drifting off… Till the hairs on the back of your head prickled. A sixth sense blared warnings of danger throughout your body, urging you to fly up in enough time to grab a figure approaching the back of the couch. Tact and grace were not your close friends tonight. Amidst the self-defense, you threw yourself off the couch to tackle your intruder to the ground. If you could call it a tackle, anyway. More like keeping them pinned with your collapsed body.
Before you could fully enter “interrogation mode”, a low chuckle stopped you in your tracks. Which emotion would your tone land on today? Surprise, confusion, irritation? “Sylus?” All three, apparently.
“Do you know how long I waited for you?” Despite the words, he didn’t sound irritated, just amused. He wasn’t even pushing you off of him.
After a moment of consideration, you graciously removed your knee from the middle of his back. A subtle groan suggested that your frantic maneuver had affected him more than he would ever like to admit. Step, flick, and a mellow light illuminated your living room. Sylus had pushed himself up enough to sit on the floor, his back leaning against the sofa.
“How many times do I have to tell you to not break into my apartment? Not only is it an extreme breach of my privacy, but it is also illegal!” You found yourself hissing quietly as you scolded him, worried that shouting too loud would reach the ears of curious neighbors. Neighbors who also happened to be Hunters. Hunters who would not treat the company of the most infamous N109 Zone boss so casually. “If you’re so determined to treat this place like your own, maybe I could consider making you a spare key but—“ You cut your own lecture off, noticing the distinct lack of attention of this particular criminal. “Are you listening to me? Sylus.”
A humph left his chest as he lifted himself up to his feet, needing to use the furniture for leverage. Not a detail left unnoticed. Suddenly you were worried; after all, this wouldn’t be the first time he had come to you to wounded. “Are you—“
“I can listen to you and ignore you at the same time, sweetie. And as for the moment, I don’t have a key. How else was I supposed to welcome you home after work, hmmm?” His hum dragged out longer than usual.
“—okay.” You finished your question from earlier. “I was going to ask ‘are you okay’.” Without waiting for a proper answer, you approached him, taking his wrist in your hand and observing his body for any clear wounds. He smiled down at you while you did so. Nothing…obvious, but a gut feeling was still telling you that something was off. Wrist in hand, you dragged him to the other side of the couch and shoved him into a seating position.
Another stern line of questioning was about to leave your mouth, but it never came. A soft kiss pressed itself against the back of your hand, Sylus’ head slightly lowered. A move straight out of some knightly romance. Your heart fluttered, your face flushed, yet you wouldn’t let yourself melt so easily. Yes…affection amongst other things had started to blossom between you two; however, Sylus’ demeanor always had you thinking that this was another game of his. But this… He had never been so open like this before.
The man in question raised his head, looking up at you with another grin on his face. Only, this one didn’t have that edge of haughty aloofness that typically painted his expression. He was…genuinely pleased. Should you be worried? Something else to note was the subtle tint of pink in his cheeks and the tips of his ears. “No…” you ended up stating aloud. “You? Drunk?”
Sylus’ hand waved in the air, like he had to physically bat away that accusation before it stuck. “I don’t get drunk, sweetie.”
“But you have been drinking?”
Keeping your hand still in his grasp, he idly brushed a finger up and down your wrist. The motion sent a shudder down your spine. “Maybe that…exchange I told you about went very well today.” His words went hush, a deep purr in his throat as his face came close to your hand again. His breath warmed your skin. “And maybe I celebrated another resounding success with a bottle of wine I’ve been saving for a lovely rainy day.” The anticipation for him to kiss you again ended with him pressing a cheek to the back of your hand. Sylus’ face was heated. He glanced up at you through the fringe of his grey hair. Apparently, he caught that little glimpse of eagerness in your eyes.
Slowly, he guided you down onto the couch. You swallowed something building up in your throat as he began to lean over you till your back was against the armrest. “So, you came all the way out here while tipsy?” The pounding in your chest now was obvious.
Once more, he raised one of your hands. “I wanted to see you, is that such a crime?” Voice soft and low, he pressed the back of your hand to his forehead, dragging it down to his cheek, and then finally right before his mouth. If you closed your eyes and drowned out the slight condescending hum in your ears, you'd have a hard time believing that this was the leader of Onychinus. The touch was that of an entirely different man. At least one you were not well acquainted with. Maybe Sylus was the evil one in a set of twins and you got sent the benevolent one by mistake. The gestures were gentle, tender, pleading. Pinkies intertwined while his wine-tinted lips pecked different promises on the backs of your knuckles. “Can I stay tonight?”
The word ‘yes’ kept echoing in your mind at a disturbing pace, but you wouldn’t let him win with just sweetened words and some sudden puppy-dog eyes. You weren’t even aware his face could do that. “Say please.”
Sylus practically giggled, propped up by an arm next to your head. His posture lowered till his forehead pressed against yours. The tip of his nose rubbed against your own as his whisper was as quiet and needy as you were wishing it would be. “Please?”
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tititilani · 3 months
Text
I can't stop thinking about if Simon had taken Edwin's offer
Like Charles finds Edwin in the hallway as ever but this time there's another boy there too, cowering against the wall next to him. Maybe the dollhead spider doesn't care about Simon, too busy focusing on its favorite target, so Charles is left standing in the hallway with Simon when Edwin is taken.
They get out of hell, but Edwin doesn't confess due to Simon hovering behind his elbow. He doesn't want to confess his emotions in front of his killer, who he probably hasn't even properly figured out how he's feeling towards yet.
The Night Nurse is pissed they came out with an extra soul but Niko's same loophole still applies and Simon stays.
"This is Simon," Edwin says when it's all said and done, finally introducing the boy that's been hiding behind him since the door closed. "He was a...classmate of mine."
"He saved me," Simon says, looking up at Edwin moony-eyed and Charles knows that look and something settles heavy in his stomach.
"Glad to have ya, mate," he tells him even though the words taste sour. This other boy knew Edwin when he was alive, the thought is slightly terrifying to him.
Simon settles in fine with the agency even if the agency feels a little crowded now with five people in it but he continues to moon over Edwin and Edwin just...never tells anyone how they actually knew each other. He reasons it just doesn't matter, that he can't find the right time, whatever.
Charles never really warms up to him, though he tries to hide it, but he sees the looks Simon gives Edwin, a soppy smitten look that is somehow worse than anything Monty or the Cat King ever tried with Edwin because of all of them, Simon arguably knows the most about like Edwardian courting. That, like Edwin, Simon has also survived hell. Charles hates the idea that someone could potentially understand Edwin more than he does.
He hates it so much that nothing further happens between him and Crystal because the idea of Edwin being left alone with Simon bothers him so much. He sees Simon adjusting Edwin's collar one (1) time and it makes him feel sick.
And then there's the fortune-teller.
They only go to her sometimes for cases because she never fails to freak Charles out but her prophecies tend to be accurate like 60% of the time which is pretty good for a fortune teller. She looks at the two of them at the end, because it is just the two of them for once, and then looks just at Edwin.
"How kind you are," she says, the words a compliment but the tone snide. "To house your killer. Pray tell it doesn't come back to you."
"What." Charles says. "The fuck."
Charles is furious, of course, and it takes Edwin a long time to talk him out of smashing Simon's face in with the new cricket bat.
"He's like me," he insists in that quiet but firm voice. Charles wants to scream that Simon is nothing like Edwin - that he doesn't have a fraction of Edwin's kindness or pissiness, that his blue eyes are not nearly as beautiful as Edwin's green - but before he can even open his mouth, Edwin continues. "He...He likes boys, Charles. He likes me."
Oh. Oh.
Charles stares at Edwin who is looking back at him, trying and failing to hide the fact he's terrified, and Charles doesn't give one shit that Edwin likes boys because he's his best mate forever. He's still pissed that Simon is apparently staying but he has to hug Edwin at that. "I'm still pissed you didn't tell me about him," is all he says, swallowing back the other words he wants to say.
Charles grows even more paranoid about Simon being around, who has to get used to the fact that Charles takes to swinging his cricket bat ominously every time he comes within ten feet of Edwin. He finds out that adjusting clothing was an Edwardian courting thing and wants to break something. The very idea the very person who killed his best mate is now trying to put the moves on said best mate pisses him off.
It also makes him think of numerous times Edwin had readjusted his collar or jacket in the past and it makes his non-existent stomach flip.
Eventually, Simon decides he's ready to move on to his after-life and Charles keeps his hands from fisting when he looks at Edwin with that same soppy look. He knows Edwin has forgiven Simon by now but Charles has always been better at holding a grudge and he knows what is going to come out of Simon's mouth before he even asks. He knows that if Edwin says yes, he won't stop him.
Charles also knows that if Edwin does, there is no way he is going to find any kind of his own afterlife.
"You could come with me," Simon says hopefully and the moment after is the longest in Charles' life.
"Thank you, Simon," Edwin says kindly and Charles has to keep himself from crying. "But I have no interest in going anywhere without Charles."
He steps back - away from Simon and back towards Charles. Ears suspiciously pink, Edwin links their hands and they watch as Simon follows the Night Nurse.
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back2bluesidex · 4 months
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We Need Practice - JJK (18+)
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A Sequel to Novice.
Pairing: Pornstar!Jungkook X Fem!Reader
Theme: Fluff, smut
Wordcount: 2.1k+
Summary: Jungkook wants you to ride him and you are too bad at that.
Warnings: Unprotected sex, messy cock riding, cumming all over body, they are down bad for each other, more fluff than I intended to have, confessions. NSFW!!
Minors are not allowed in this blog!!
Masterlist | Patreon
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“Don’t judge a book by its cover” 
You have heard this phrase for thousands of times in your entire lifetime but you have hardly had any chance of actually implying the same in your life. 
But then you met Jungkook and you understood how true that one sentence can be. 
Jeon Jungkook is the text-book definition of what those cliched bad-boys or fuckboys would look like. 
With a hand full of tattoos, silver rings dangling from piercings, impressively structured body and a small waist that could rival female models, he really looks like someone who would be fucking people and putting on a show out of it. 
And that is exactly what he does. 
Pornstar Jeon Jungkook is actually very notorious. 
But Jeon Jungkook as a person is a completely different story. 
After that one encounter at that porn movie set, he asked for your number and you complied with his request thinking of he could give you some of the best fucks of your life (not that you have had many fucks to brag about in the first place). 
If you are being honest, then you never expected him to be the sweetheart that he actually is. Since the day you two exchanged numbers, he never once asked if he could come over during god-forbidden hours of night. He never once asked for your nude pictures, neither did he ever force you to meet him. 
Rather he sends you funny dog videos, funny tik tok clips and asks you how was your day. And you can’t lie about the fact that your heart has already started acting strange, like it flutters everytime Jungkook’s name glows on your dark phone screen. 
It’s been more than a month since you have been chatting regularly and now you are getting a little impatient. 
As much as you appreciate his good-boy vibes, you would like to see him again, touch him again. 
So you do what you have been thinking of doing for more than a week now. 
“Sleeping?” you hit send, praying to the universe that he doesn’t find you a desperate bitch for what you are going to do. 
The clock reads 2:15 am already, and just then his reply arrives, “nah. Can’t sleep. What about you?” 
“Me too. Can’t sleep.” 
You take a deep breath before typing the next message, “do you wanna hangout?” 
Just when you are about to add “at my place” to complete your proposition, his reply hits your screen, “Send me your address. And wear something warm before I ask you to come out.” 
Wait. is he? Taking you out? 
Even though you were trying to ask for sex but this option feels even better to be honest. 
So you send him your address and he texts you that he will be there within 10 minutes. Wearing your gray padding, you wait for him to arrive at your place. 
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Another positive point about Jeon Jungkook is that he is punctual. You might even call him a green flag because your phone dings with a “I am here” text right on 2:27 am. 
The scene that unfolds in front of you once you come out of your apartment, almost leaves your jaw hanging mid air. 
Jungkook has arrived with a bike, dressed in complete black. If you drooled a little at the sight then you would never admit that. 
Once he sees you awkwardly walking towards him, he takes off his helmet and welcomes you with one of his infamous bunny smiles. 
Your heart does a little flip inside your chest. 
His big doe eyes shine amid the darkness as if those are made of some priceless stone. At this moment it’s really tough to believe that he is a pornstar, who fucks people on camera to earn a living. 
“Hey. you look beautiful.” he greets you with a compliment when you come close to him. 
“You look even more handsome today.” you return his compliment genuinely. And at that, the tip of his ears turn red. 
“Ah thanks.” he replies shyly as he hands you a helmet. And gestures to you to mount his fancy bike. 
You take the helmet, slip that on your head and hold him by his shoulders to climb on his bike. 
Once you have settled, he revves the engine. 
“Hold me tightly” he says briefly before setting the bike in motion. You wrap your arms around his waist and hold him just as he asked you to. 
The deserted road, the trees whooshing by, the buildings that look peaceful, everything feels so beautiful. 
Maybe it’s because of the hour or maybe it’s because you are with someone you like. 
The bike comes to a halt at a crossing and you slide up the windshield of your helmet, “where are we going?” 
He looks at you through the mirror, slides his own windshield up and gives you another sickening smile, but doesn’t say anything. 
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5 more minutes later he parks the bike beside a huge lake. 
It looks like a secluded area. The lake is mostly hidden amid big trees and surrounded by fishing spots and some benches. 
Jungkook spreads his hand before you once you both are standing side by side. 
You take the cue and place your hand on his. He intertwines his fingers with yours and you start blushing. Thanks to the darkness, he wouldn’t be able to witness it. 
Once you are sitting on a bench, Jungkook starts, “I often come here to fish with my hyungs. This is my first time coming here with a woman.” 
When you look at him, you find him already staring at you, “Really? You look like the type to have a lot of girlfriends, you know?” 
“Is it because of my profession?” there is a hint of sadness in his eyes. 
So you press on his hand, which is still intertwined with yours and say, “no. not because of that. It’s just that you are generally very attractive and charming, Jungkook.” 
His face brightens up with a beautiful smile, “Too bad, I was about to say the same about you. But you snatched my words.” 
Your eyes widen at his compliment, “You find me attractive?” 
“Why? Why are you so surprised? Is it wrong to find someone attractive?” he giggles, staring deep into your eyes. 
“No. Th-that’s not what I meant. I mean, you know, you work with far more attractive women than me. So.. it’s kind of unlikely actually.” you fumble with your words. 
Jungkook chuckles at your explanation, “they are just colleagues, Y/N. Just like any other profession, we have a strict business relationship. And honestly, they are not even my type. You, on the other hand, fit perfectly into the category of women I would love to date.” 
Your eyes go even wider at his confession, “you.. You want to date me?” 
“If you let me. If you trust me despite the nature of my profession… I would love to make you mine.” Jungkook breathes slowly, his eyes drop down to your lips. 
Before you can voice your answer, your intrusive thoughts win and you reach up, placing a chaste kiss on his lips. 
“I think I would love it too.” 
And then you find yourself being pulled by the back of your neck as Jungkook crashes his lips on yours. It’s passionate, it’s overwhelming, it’s so beautiful and you never felt anything close to this. 
He licks the seam of your lower lip asking you to grant him permission, you let him inside your mouth. 
His tongue probes into your mouth testing each corner, you moan into his mouth. His other hand wraps around your waist pulling you even closer. 
And then you feel one, two, three and then multiple drops of rain falling on you two. 
He detaches his lips from yours, “fuck. It’s raining.” 
“Let’s go back to my place.” you reply, trying to cover your heads with your hands. 
It’s been one of your bucket list wishes to ride a bike in the rain with the person you love and probably it’s going to come true today. 
You hold him tightly, pressing your chest on his back, not in a sexual, but in a loving manner. It starts raining heavily within a few minutes, and Jungkook quickens his speed to reach your destination as soon as possible. 
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“Where are you going?” you place your question, seeing Jungkook putting on his helmet again after dropping in front of your apartment entrance. 
Even though the rain has turned into drizzle now, it still can be quite dangerous to drive a bike in this weather.  
“Home. Where else?” he adds a little sheepishly. 
“Jungkook, it’s still raining. I don’t think it’s any wiser to go home now, you’re drenched on top of that. Come inside. You can leave after the sunrise. If you want.. I mean.” you propose, he seems to think for a bit. 
“I don’t think I should go inside, Y/N.” Jungkook looks at the ground as if it’s more interesting than your face. 
“Why? What’s wrong?” you are truly confused now. 
“I might not be able to control myself…” his voice fades by the time he manages to end the sentence. 
“Did I say I want you to control?” you bite your lip, hoping that you don’t appear to be too desperate to him. 
His eyes go wider inside his bulky helmet. 
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Jungkook pushes your naked body on the mattress. 
“I couldn’t stop thinking of how good you felt that day.” He groans while biting down on the skin of your neck. 
Your hands roam around the smooth skin of his back. Everytime you scratch his back, he moans a little. 
“So pretty, so delicate, so perfect for me.” Jungkook groans again. 
One of his hands reaches down, finding your clit within a moment. It’s as if he has studied the map of your body with earnest interest. 
Drawing tight circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves, he pulls out melodic moans out of your throat. 
“Jun-jungkook mmm..” you moan again. 
“Yes baby. Say my name again.” he urges you while entering your heat with his middle finger. His digit plunges inside you, making you see stars indoors. 
“Jungko- I’m close” you manage to voice somehow. And as soon as those words fly out of your mouth, he empties you. 
You look at him being dumbfounded. He smirks at you, knowing what exactly he has done. 
“I want you to cum on my cock. I am hard as hell, baby.” he confesses blatantly. 
Just when you are about to hold him, he flips you around. So, now you are sitting on his thighs.  
“I want you to ride me.” he adds a little breathlessly. And you almost choke on your own spit. 
“What? I-I don’t..” 
“I will guide you, Y/N.” he cuts you off. 
He helps you in taking off his slacks along with his underwear. Once he is naked, he holds you by your waist and lines your entrance along with his cock. 
“Are you ready?” he asks briefly. You nod in affirmation. And then he is sliding you down his length. 
At first his length is overwhelming but you adjust fast. 
“You should move now.” Jungkook’s voice is laced with lust, his eyes are hazy, making him look even more attractive than he already is. 
You honestly have no idea how to move. So you try to implement your visual experience. However, it’s tough once you start bouncing on his cock. Even though Jungkook is guiding you well, you are messy regardless. 
Your moves and Jungkook’s thrusts don’t match at all and the experience is nothing like that day. 
You really are a novice. 
Even though the friction is delicious for you, Jungkook’s expression tells that he is very underwhelmed. So, you start trying your best. With a few more bounces, you cum all over his cock, creaming it perfectly. 
As soon as you are done, Jungkook flips you around again. He slips out of you and starts playing himself. 
Even though you are in your post-orgasm haze, it’s embarrassing for you. You couldn’t help him finish and he had to take the charge himself. 
With a few more pumps, he cums all over your body. Starting from your face, to your stomach, everything gets creamed in his white hot seed. 
And it’s hot. He is hot. And you are pathetic. 
“I-I’m sorry. I know it was bad.” you manage to voice once Jungkook is done with himself. 
“You are not bad, baby. We just need more practice together.” and then he is sealing his lips with yours again. 
You certainly need more practice with him. 
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Taglist:
@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae @i-have-no-life-charlie
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luveline · 3 months
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Hi!! Sometimes in ur bombshell reader fics she talks about how she has nervous energy would u ever write a bombshell reader fic where she has one of those days where she just woke up wired and Spencer tries to calm her down?
“Spencer,” you whisper. 
“What?” 
Spencer turns another page. You, across from him with your legs crossed, slouched, poke at his leg gently with your foot. “What are you reading?” 
“It’s just a book on Wyoming land boundaries.” 
You nod. Spencer watches you from across the top of his book, at first without worry, and then an attentiveness that furthers all the reasons you may or may not be in love with him. 
“You okay?” 
Everything should be fine. The case is solved. You’re heading home, without turbulence, two hours at most from touching down after a job well done. “I’m fine.” 
“You sure?” he asks. 
You smile fraughtly. You try your best to be the perfect image, to put that best foot forward, and you nail it ninety nine days out of a hundred. Nobody knows about your nervousness besides you, and that’s how you’d like it to stay, but Spencer clearly cares about you too much to look away. 
He closes his book and sets in on the table, pushing a glass into his hand. “Here,” he says, leaning forward. “It’s not poisoned.” 
You take it. Feeling his gaze, you drink a little sip that immediately goes down the wrong way. Your coughing swallow perturbs him worse. 
People tend to look at Spencer and see someone who needs more help. Even the people closest to him can doubt his ability, but as far as you’re concerned he’s proven to understand emotion quite well. He won’t shake a stranger's hand, he can’t flirt to save his life without notice, but he can make you feel better. He’s good at taking care of you, even if nobody else can see it. 
“Hey, it’s okay,” he says, leaning right over to touch both your knees at once. He pushes your skirt up a half inch with the movement, but his eyes are on your face. “You have the jitters?” 
“Think so,” you murmur. 
“Maybe it’s the air pressure.” 
You’re sure he knows you get like this sometime, but his explanation is kind. His hands on your knees are somehow strangely placed and still a natural feeling. Just like sitting together at his place to watch TV, or elbow to elbow on the train into New York, your boundaries with one another are eroding. 
“Wanna come and sit by me?” he asks, like he’s thinking the same thing. 
You laugh softly. “In all that space?” 
The seat is big enough for a larger person, but not you and Spencer together. 
He squeezes himself right to the side. “Come on,” he insists, sitting back, “just sit with me.” 
“I’ll squish you.” 
“So squish me.”
You think about it before setting your traded glass down. You don’t know why you have these weird moods, you don’t understand what it is about Spencer that can make them feel better, but he’s offering to make it go away. You have no real reason to turn him down. 
In the end, you sit in the chair beside him, ignoring Hotch’s perturbed look as you stand and then quickly plop yourself down at Spencer’s side. Your thigh has to go completely on top of his, but otherwise, it’s not so bad. It’s more room than you thought. 
It works quicker than you could imagine. With both of your heads held back the space between you is still minimal, which means his face is in detail. His hair brushed back and with the barest traces of gel, a little curled, what had Hotch said? His boyband hair.  
Spencer turns toward you, eye shadowed as he presses his forehead to the chair. “Is it just jitters?” he asks. 
“Sometimes I think I get… weird,” you say. 
“Me too.” He pulls your leg further into his lap. You’re shocked at first, but it’s a friendly move that takes the strain off of your knee. “Can I tell you something?” 
“Of course you can.” 
“I’ve started to care a whole lot less about being weird since I met you.” 
You fight the urge to touch his hair. “I don’t think it’s about caring, Spence, I just.. don’t feel right.” 
“Okay.” He nods sincerely. “Okay, well, we can work it out. We’re still hours from Virginia, you can turn your brain off. We can work it out.” 
You’re relieved to have him promise it. This isn’t the sort of thing you can work out, but it doesn’t matter, Spencer caring this much makes all the difference. You take a deep, deep breath, and you give him a grateful smile, before you rest your cheek on his shoulder. That’s just wanting, no weird feeling or jittering at the root of you as he lets a warm breath kiss your forehead, his nose pressing into your skin. 
“Don’t let anybody see,” you mumble. 
His next breath is a little shaky. “I won’t.”
See what, you’re not sure. But soon you start to feel less like you’re gonna try popping open an emergency window, and that’s enough for now. 
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gutghost · 10 months
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Imagine you get cheated on...BUT- the cheater turns kinda...yandere?
It felt like an awful nightmare. Bile rising in your throat as you looked at your lover - the person who you loved through their highest and their lowest, the person who you invested blood sweat and tears into, the person you promised yourself to - undoubtedly pressing their lips to another person's. It took a hot minute before you tried to step back, only for you to bump into the doorway, causing a loud thump. The two looked at you, one with horror, the other with confusion. It took you no time to turn around and make a run for it. A hiccup making its way out of your throat as you felt a sob start to shake through your body.
It's been afew months, well. More then few months since that incident, and safe to say you have been doing...fine. not great, but fine. You've decided to collect your things while your lover was away from the house, your friends and family helping you out as you found a new place to live. It was bare bones, considering you didn't take the shared couch, or tv, dressers, not even bed. But it was yours, and you've been getting by. You'd like to think you've gotten stronger.
That was until odd things started happening around your apartment. Things were being moved, shit you know you wouldn't misplace. Your clothes were going missing, much to your dismay. You barely had any, so to lose even one shirt was frustrating. Then roses started appearing in vases in your home. Seeing as actual items were showing up you decided to call the police, and when it seemed that the window to your bedroom was broken, seemingly from an outside force, they told you to invest in better security as they kept a look out.
Which is why you were going to the store so late at night, I mean, what could go wrong?
bad decision, you later decided as you looked at the scene infront of you. Your throat tight, bile rising, just like that night, the night you lost your true love. In front of you was your lover - now ex - looming disheveled, gasping for air as their voice broke, a small, unnerving, almost crazed look, crossing their features.
"My love, my everything, oh please-"
"Dont."
Your lip trembles as you step back, your look of surprise quickly turning into that of anger. They had no right to call out to you with such fondness, not after what they put you through. The pain and suffering, all due to the person who swore to love you.
A look of hurt crossed their face at the sight of you backing away from them, as if you kicked a puppy. The idea sickened you. Quick to try and close the space once more as they struggled to walk straight they would stumble forward. Their voice trembling as they fell to their knees, a whimper coming from them as they scrambled to grab at your sweatpants.
"Please - my love I beg of you, I know what i did was sin, I know - I've never been more sick in the mind then i was that night, oh I was so stupid, thinking I could ever so much as THINK of another woman! Even more so after wards, how could I think I could ever live without you??? You! Oh precious you, the sun only shines when you are near. Those next few weeks were torture my dear, I've never wanted anything more then to RIP MY SKIN OFF WHEN I REALIZED MY MISDEEDS."
Their insane rambling continued as you tried to shove them off, tears starting to stream down their gaunt cheeks. Had they been eating? You wondered as you tried to get them off you.
"I'm...i'm better now though! I've never been thinking clearer, I came to a realization life isn't worth living without you! But by then- you...- you had already left, I tore through that house to try and find you but you had already been far gone. I asked your family, your friends - but all of them simply turned me away, your LOVER - isn't that what I am? I am, aren't i?? They should've...they-"
You couldn't listen to this anymore. A disgusted feeling filling your gut. What did you ever see in them?? You quickly shoved them away, a small gasp coming from them as you stepped away, your ex lover falling backwards onto the sidewalk. A look so firey resting on your face it could rival the heat from the depths of hell.
"You lost that right. You lost it the moment you took that person into your arms, the moment you brought them into our home, the moment you pressed your lips against theirs."
They seemed dumbfounded, sobs starting to wash over their body as they tried to sputter out apologies. But you had none of it.
"Did you get a kick out of it? Seeing me suffer? Seeing me jealous as you placed your hands on that person's? Your lips on them? When i left did you just go right back to kissing on them? Fucking them??"
You spat at them, your ex lover crying their heart out as they struggle to breathe. Whether it be from guilt or heartbreak, you weren't sure. They shook their head as they continued to cry, trying once again to reach out to you, to hold onto you for that comfort you once so readily gave them. But you stepped back, putting space between you once more. A scoff coming from you as you did so
"Baby please don't do this to me, please please please-"
Their voice wavered heavily. Some part of you, the part buried deep down in your heart, ached at the sight of them so broken down. They looked ill, both mentally and physically. But what done was done. You quickly turned on your heels as you made your way home. Your ex lovers cries filling the street as he urged you to come back, to not leave him. To not abandon him.
Maybe some sick part of you felt good that you left them a blubbering mess, after all. They rept what they sown, did they not?
Little did you know, oh how blissfully unaware you were. They were gonna get you back, one way or another. They will have you back in their arms, with all those roses they left in your apartment in pretty vases all over your newly bought home in the woods, far from everyone.
They will have you be their's again.
that corpse that once used to be their side piece left rotting under the concrete of their basement proves it.
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dramaticals · 2 months
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through the wringer
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pairing: theodore nott x ravenclaw reader
summary: theo tries to get your attention by spoiling you with gifts. you pretend not to notice the shift just to mess with him. childhood friends to lovers. / requested by @the-empty-refrigerator.
word count: 1,117
author’s note: i've also posted this on ao3 but as a theo x hermione fic, and so if you're interested in reading that instead: click here. reblogs / comments are always appreciated.
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"What's this?" You ask, blinking in confusion at the box of your favourite sweets in his hands.
Theo places the box in front of you before settling into his usual spot at the Ravenclaw table. Your housemates have now made a conscious effort to leave room for him, considering he had no qualms about squeezing his way in to sit beside you. It's as if he didn't have his own assigned table.
"I thought you Ravenclaws could read."
"You're a twat."
"And here I was, doing something nice for you." Theo sighs. Always the flair for the dramatics. "It's Valentine's Day."
You eye him suspiciously before finally accepting the sweets and his reasoning. For as long as you've known him (and you've known him long enough that you couldn't even remember not knowing him), the two of you have never exchanged anything on Valentine's Day.
"Right, well, thanks." You say, offering him a nudge of your shoulder. His cheeks were pink. "I suppose I could share since I didn't get you anything."
Theo looks at you expectantly before he gives you a slow nod. His facial expression is unreadable, but something flashes in his eyes that you couldn't quite decipher. "How generous."
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"I got you this."
You look up from your parchment, settling your quill down carefully to not spill ink. The library was nearly empty at this hour, and Madam Pince was an hour and a half away from kicking you out.
"Another present?"
"Are you complaining that I'm spoiling you?"
"I don't reckon a fresh box of the cheapest quills warrants you tossing the word spoiling around."
"It's not my fault these happen to be your favourite to write with."
"Hmm, touché." You sound, accepting the pack of quills. "Will that be all?"
Theo blinks, his eyes darting between his gift and you. He opens his mouth, closes it, and opens it again. Nothing comes out.
You shake your head and begin to pack your things away. You bite back a smile as Theo, ever the conversationalist, is clearly at a loss for words. "Come on, Nott. Walk me back to my common room."
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"It seems Theodore's quite fond of you." Luna points out as soon as Theo leaves you with another present. This time, it was a locket charmed to hold as many tiny pictures as you liked. Being quite the sentimental person, this gift was thoughtful and just proved to you that Theo knew you—not that it needed to be proven.
"I know." You say, touching the locket he had secured around your neck. There's only one photo in it currently; a picture of you and Theo, laughing as you attempted to swipe frosting across his nose.
"You seem fond of him."
You nod and smile lightly. "I am."
"He doesn't know."
You shake your head. After Theo secured the locket around you, you questioned what the occasion was, and Theo shrugged, claiming he was just messing around with a spell. He couldn't hold your gaze, and his tells when lying were practically screaming in your face. Theo excused himself quickly when you gave him a very friendly side-hug in thanks, teasingly claiming just how good of a friend he was to you.
"I refuse to tell him until he can be a big boy and use his words."
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"Are you going to Hogsmeade this weekend?" Theo asks, cutting through the welcomed silence as the two of you sit near the Black Lake.
"Mhm," you sound noncommittally. "As I do every time we're permitted to go."
"Right," Theo nods. He's fiddling with a loose string on the blanket the two of you are sitting on. "Wanna go with me?"
Your brows lift slightly, and your eyes flicker to his. "Don't I always?"
"I mean, yes."
"Okay," you say slowly. You pause long enough for him to interject. When he doesn't, you sigh and shake your head. "So I'll meet you at our usual meeting spot."
"Okay."
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"I can pay for myself, Theo."
Theo shakes his head, making quite a scene of pulling out a few sickles and galleons (the price of two butterbeers and a slice of apple pie did not warrant the number of galleons he placed on the table).
"I'm well aware." Theo says, waving off your attempt at tossing in the amount for your share. "But I'm paying for it."
"Then the next one's on me."
"That's not how this works."
"This?"
"Yes."
"What's 'this' then?"
Theo's jaw clenches, and he exhales a breath. "You know what this is."
You did.
After he met you in front of the Ravenclaw common room instead of your usual meeting spot, purchased a book you were eyeing at Tomes and Scrolls, opened all the doors for you, and pulled out your chair for you at the Three Broomsticks (and then sat beside you rather than in front of you), you had a strong inkling of what this day was. But Theo never explicitly asked you or said anything that would allude to being interested romantically, and so you continued the charade. You played dumb.
Your brows furrow, and you blink in convincing bewilderment. "Do I?"
Theo releases a small groan, his hands covering his eyes in defeat. "Gods, you're impossible."
"I'm confused."
"I like you!" Theo blurts, bringing his hands down so he can meet your gaze. His eyes burn with frustration and longing. His cheeks are red, and he's bouncing his left leg as if he'd just heard he needed to face three boggarts at once. "I've been trying to tell you this whole time. The sweets, the quills, the necklace, the book. I even took you out on this bloody date. How do you not know already?"
It took everything in your power not to crack as he finally voiced his feelings. As you watch him take bated breaths, you can't help but erupt into a fit of laughter.
"Merlin," you giggle, wiping the tears from the corner of your eye. "It took you long enough, you bloody goof."
Theo flushes, and you can't tell if he's red because he's embarrassed and confused or if it's because he's seconds away from breathing himself into hyperventilation. You don't let him get to that point (being the gracious and not at all cruel person that you are), as you grab Theo by his collar and pull him in for a kiss.
Theo tastes of butterscotch and syrup, and his lips are soft and hesitant until they're not. He comes to, his hand moving to cup your jaw as he kisses you back.
You pull away from him, beaming at his shell-shocked and pleased expression. "I've known. I just wanted to hear you say it."
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vroomvroomwee · 1 year
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Crowley is Lucifer
(Ok I know some of you don't believe this theory but I highly suggest you give this a quick read anyway. I tried to make it short and easy and I'll be going chronologically, from s1 all through s2)
- First, let's get this out of the way, Lucifer and Satan aren't neccesarilly the same person. Even in the show the devil that appeared in s1 has only ever been reffered to as Satan, not even once as Lucifer.
- In the bible Lucifer was the one to tempt Eve with the apple, and who do we know that does that in the show. Crowley is literally THE snake from Eden.
- An obvious one perhaps, but the red hair is also a giveaway
- In the bible Jesus was tempted by the devil for 30 days, in the show Crowley says "I showed him all the kingdoms of the world", so that's another role Lucifer has that Crowley had in the show
- It's well known (even mentioned in the Sandman) that Lucifer was the most beautiful of all angels, and our demon is played by no other than David Tennant
Now on to season 2 because there's a LOT to unpack here
- He litterally started the engine of the universe which was one of Lucifers roles
- He's the first to say "let there be light", which is pretty fucking huge since that is Gods line
- "I worked closely with upstairs on it" even in the first scene they're telling us Crowley is an angel of very very high rank
- He fell for asking questions, which is litterally what Lucifer fell for, for questioning God. This in and of itself should be a pretty big indicator. "I only ever asked questions"
- Shax: "a miracle of enourmous power only the mightiest of archangels can perform"
Crowley: "How do you know I didn't do it"
And Shax just... doesn't counter that. She looks even skeptical, as if it COULD be a possibility, unlike Uriel who says to Aziraphale don't excpect us to believe you did it. Shax litterally doesn't shut the option down which confirms Crowley has the power not only of an archangel but of the mightiest kind
- In the bookshop with Gabriel/Jim he says "I don't remember. It [gravity] seemed like a good idea when we were all talking about it"
- "You're welcome to come in, you might even spot an archangel" don't tell me this was Crowley just egging Shax on and not being sneaky
- The fact that he could sense the demons coming. "Somethings wrong""It's coming in waves", when Aziraphale couldn't. It could be a demon thing but we saw Sandalphon, an archangel of lower rank, in the first season mention "something smells evil" so obviously angels can sense demons too, they just have to be powerful enough. And keep in mind Sandalphon was already in the book shop for quite some time, Crowley sensed them even before they had arrived (he also sensed the hell hound who was some fucking miles away)
- The.fucking.folder. "You have to be a throne or dominion above" and this dude opens these clasified documents like it's nothing. If this isn't an indicator of his high position as an angel I don't know what is.
- He's worked with Saraqael, another very high ranking angel
- "I'm the only first order archangel in the room"... and the camera imediately pans to Crowley, and for anyone who's read the book and watched the show you know that rarely anything is coincidental
- When the Metatron says they can't lose another prince of heaven. This... this fucking line. So it's relatively well known that Gabriel and Lucifer are brothers, and if Gabriel is one of the princes of heaven I wonder who the other one could be. "Two princes of heaven". And the Metatrons words were very careful, he doesn't say lost as in heaven can't find him, he says it in the context that they won't be sending Gabriel to hell since they won't lose another prince to downstairs
- In the bookshop when no one can identify the Metatron he turns to Crowley who imediately recognises him. Now you have this dude, who's literally on top of the angel hierarchy and is responsible for running heaven and the connection to God themself, surrounded by archangels and a principality you spoke to face to face with just a few years ago and... none of them can tell who you are, the only one who does is the literal demon. That tells us that Crowley has not only seen him in this form, but has probably worked with the Metaron himself personally. "Always asking damn fool questions", 10 million angels and he remembers what this one particular angel was like 6000 years ago
- Crowley is also very reluctant to reveal his identity as an angel. Now if he were just an ordinary angel of no real significance he wouldn't have a problem revealing his name, but... if his name was one that's the literal representation of all evil in this world, then it is understandable he keeps it a secret, in fear he might scare Aziraphale away
- And I wanted to leave the best for last. So you remember in the book when Crowley has to sign his name to start Armaggedon, and Hastur tells him "no, your real name" after which he reluctantly writes it. Now in the book we never see him write anything, but in the show we see him write a sygil, something that looks very mich like an L. An L... A FUCKING L. And now I wonder how this theory didn't come up sooner.
(Also he can fucking stop time, like dafuq)
Edit:
- "Oh looky here it's Lucifer and the guys" we all thought he was talking about someone else, he's just refferencing things other angels have said about HIM. FUCK
- I keep seing people saying Crowleys memories were wiped because he couldn't remember Saraqael and Furfur. But I think people forget, demons lie. He's lying to make them think he's not that angel they worked with, that he's not Lucifer. (In season 1 we hear him a few times refferencing his life as an angel, so he does remember most of it)
- Also saying if the Raphael theory were true then as showrunners they would have mentioned him somewhere for those not that familiar with the bible (or don't read much fanfiction). The refferences for Crowleys past are so so vague that it would be too sudden and confusing if he were Raphael. But there is one name that everyone is familiar with, no matter who you are how old you are or where you're from, a name that needs no introduction.
Edit 2:
- Back to him being the most beautiful angel, I don't think it was ever quite explained how every single demon when they're in hell looks... awful, but Crowley doesn't. Beelzebub has the spores all over their face, Hastur the maggots and the sh-, Dagon the scales etc. But Crowley doesn't, not even when he's in hell, he's always just so, well, pretty.
- I saw a few people asking about how Lucifer started the rebellion and Crowley wouldn't do that. I think it's the same Crowley who wouldn't get stuck in traffic after creating the M25, or the same Crowley that wanted to call Aziraphale after bringing down the entire London network, "you told them you invented the spanish inquisition, and started the second world war""so the humans beat me to it that's not my fault", "so all this is your demonic work?""no, the humans thought it up themselves nothing to do with me"
- Also I think Satan's in charge of hell not Crowley the same way the Metatron's in charge of heaven and not Gabriel (and who can very easily demote angels if he so wishes)
Edit 3:
- like some of you pointed out Lucifer is also known/means Light-bringer. And Crowley was the first to say "let there be light."
- The file he opens with Muriel is Gabriels file, a class A archangel, so if he knows the password to that it means that either he's on the same level as Gabriel, or above him.
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