#lord knows i got a shit ton

[hongtyong]

I NEED SOMEONE TO SEDATE ME

©️ to original on the photos

[crunchycrystals]

while im procrastinating on my homework im just gonna say im gonna be kind of very mad if that mv she's filming is actually for a midnights track lol i like the theory that its for long live though i think that would really fit if the vid is actually about taking back her work

[sytoran]

⋆⭒˚｡★ ❝MILE HIGH CLUB❞ ★ n.romanoff !

pairing ★ sub!natasha romanoff x fem!avenger!reader

synopsis ★ on a plane ride to dubai for a romantic getaway, natasha takes matters into her own hands, and your cock into her own mouth. (oops?)

warnings ★ explicit content (minors dni), pwp, semi-public sex, jealous natasha is scarily hot, you are not the lord's strongest soldier, you have a cock, you almost get caught (kind of)

word count ★ 2.6k (IM BACKKK!!!! ...for now)

With Thor, Valkyrie and Carol back on Earth for about two weeks or so, you and Natasha were relieved of your Avenger duties. And what better way to spend the restful break than going on a romantic getaway to Dubai with the love of your life?

On the eighth of the eleven-hour flight, you were perfectly content to lounge in the luxuries of first-class, courtesy of S.H.I.E.L.D. But it seems that for the Avenger who was constantly on her feet, Natasha didn't deal well with ennui.

“I’m bored, Y/N.”

Unbeknownst to your girlfriend’s hidden agenda, you paid little mind to Natasha’s statement, continuing to watch the subpar rom-com playing on the aeroplane screen in blissful ignorance.

“Sorry, baby, I know it’s a long flight. You wanna watch this movie with me?”

Natasha lets out an aggravated huff. Because of course you didn’t know the effect you had on her. As much as the whole Avenger getup was as bold as it was impressive, this laid-back version of you really showcased the underlying details that marked her attraction to you.

Thin-rimmed reading glasses sat atop your nose, stray hairs framing the delicacy of your sharp cheekbones and marble-cutting jawline. With a tight-fitting black turtleneck that strained under the bulkiness of your sinful biceps, cut from the finest vibranium, and loosely-hung grey sweatpants that finished off the whole look — Natasha was just about ready to start sucking you off.

That passing thought had just been one of amusement, rhetorical and hyperbolic, seemingly impossible but altogether funny. But then Natasha takes a few steps back, figuratively, and considers it again — and a smile likened to a scheming devil crawls upon her face.

Well, Widows always got what they wanted, didn’t they?

“Y/N,” Natasha purrs, intently pressing into your side.

“Mhm?” you hum, reaching out a hand to entwine it with hers. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? You still bored?”

Your reaction was simply so innocent and angelic that Natasha almost felt bad for the devil-spawned arbitrary ploy she was about to enact.

Suddenly surging forward, Natasha lifts up the armrest that separates your seats, closing the distance between her and a trip down to hell, and lets a hand cup the mouth-watering bulge in your grey sweatpants.

“I said I’m bored, Daddy,” she whispers into your ear. “Mommy wants to play.”

The loud half-splutter, half-cough that resounds around the enclosed space around the two of you within the aeroplane is immaculate.

You choke on inhaled air, looking around at the other passengers with disbelief and anxiety, as if you had been scandalised.

And maybe you had been. Shifting in your seat uncomfortably, you desperately try to look away from the tantalising cleavage shoved in front of your sinning eyes.

Natasha’s low-cut top had you fighting every calvary in your mental war, and you struggle to regain a semblance of composure.

“But, uhm, Daddy wants to remind Mommy that we’re surrounded by complete strangers,” You whisper urgently, a handsome flush overtaking your features. “And that we are very well-known Avengers across the globe, so if we were to get caught we would end up on every news headline for the next month. And if it reaches Fury, well, we’d be in shit ton of trouble.”

Your state of arousal is unhelpfully heightened further when you notice that Natasha is eyeing your growing erection like a hawk, front teeth sinking into her ruby-red lip, ready to take strike and devour its prey.

“Oh darling, you know I’m a whore for attention,” Natasha replies loftily, and the silky-smooth way that the word ‘whore’ rolls off her tongue triggers a jolt of arousal straight to the tent in your sweatpants.

When Natasha begins caressing the hefty bulge in between your legs, a low groan emits from the depths of your throat and it melts in Natasha’s lower belly in the form of molten arousal.

“Natasha, as much as I want to rail you senseless in this very second—”

“What’s stopping you?”

“I don’t think that this is a good idea—”

“Stop thinking, then,” Natasha responds as if it’s the most simple answer in all of the galaxy, and before you can come up with another futile reason to deter her girlfriend’s libido, Natasha launches into action.

In a fraction of a second that could have rivalled Spiderman’s speed, Natasha unbuckles her seatbelt and sinks to her knees in front of your seat. Another upside of first-class was the spacious legroom which Natasha fully utilised. Ducking under your blanket, she drapes it over her hunched figure and tucks herself neatly between your legs.

“Fuck,” you breathe out, fumbling to unbuckle your own seatbelt and letting Natasha slide down your sweatpants. Social decency be damned, for when Natasha Romanoff presented herself to you, ripe for the taking, no one simply denied themself of that glorious heaven.

Deft fingers tug down black Calvin Klein boxers, and a huge, hardened cock springs out of its confinement. You exhale shakily as a hand wraps around the base, and a feather-light finger trails over its girthy length.

“I’m not surviving this, am I?” You mutter underneath your breath, leaning back into the seat. In response, Natasha gives kitten licks to the pre-cum emerging at your heady tip, so saintly and sinful all the same.

Guiding the head of your cock to a hot mouth, Natasha leisurely wraps her lips around the shaft. Your iron-hard grip on the armrest was almost completely useless in the face of regaining normalcy, not when the feeling of velvet lips set alight every nerve on her body.

“Fuck,” you curse breathlessly, your face contorting into one of pleasure. Darkened eyes fixate unto the blanket Natasha was hidden under, and your wandering mind fuels an image of your girlfriend’s hollowed cheeks and pliant mouth, to which you almost fall apart there and then.

Dirty, scandalous and filthy was being able to feel Natasha’s tongue swirl around your cock without seeing it happen. Your lack of sight heightened the sensitivity of your other senses by tenfold, and you had to physically restrain herself from bucking your hips forward.

Without warning, Natasha tilts her head up, ruffling the blankets, and then engulfs your cock in the threshold of her throat.

“Oh, Thanos' head on a fucking stick—”

“Excuse me ma’am, what can I get for you today?”

Your eyes fly open in a nanosecond, head jerking to the source of distraction. There in the aisle stood an air stewardess with a push-cart and a smile just a little too wide.

“Uh, uhm, just a water would be fine,” you choke out, attempting to exhale steadily as if you hadn’t been about to combust in your girlfriend's mouth just a few seconds ago.

“Right away, ma’am,” The stewardess answers. “You getting hot and bothered from the show?” She asks harmlessly, a smirk tugging up on her face.

You take a moment to understand the jest. Before you the shitty rom-com is still playing, except now there's a badly orchestrated sex scene playing, where the male actor is trying too hard to act as if he’s doing any good. It doesn’t do you any good that your face is flushed and evidently flustered, but for different yet similar reasons.

A false laugh escapes your lips, in hopes of driving the woman away. “What! No, no way. I’m all good here.”

You swear you can smell the jealousy radiating off from Natasha in leaps and bounds, and you decide it is best to end the conversation before Natasha fuses and convulses simultaneously.

God forbid Natasha decides to start deepthroating your cock at that exact moment.

You let out a ragged groan in front of the stewardess, as a hot mouth engulfs your cock in quick succession, sucking back and forth with an esteemed fervour.

“You alright there, sweetheart?” The lady asks, leaning closer, reaching out a hand to pat the side of your face.

You lean back, rapidly attempting to steady your breathing, and failing miserably. Natasha’s bobbing her head up and down with energised vigour, determined in her mission.

“Y-yeah, it’s really alright. Th-thanks, again.”

Just as you thought all was done and dusted, the air stewardess looks around cautiously. She leans closer to you with batted eyelashes and a supposedly seductive wink.

Then, in a low and sultry voice that seals your fate, the woman says, “Let me know if you need anything special, handsome.” You choke back a moan as Natasha twists her head, her talented tongue doing wonders to her cock.

The lady can’t get out of your sight any slower.

The moment the air stewardess disappears into the confines of the next cabin, footsteps fading away, Natasha's head whips out of the blanket, furrowed brows and an aggravated expression taking you by storm.

“‘Let me know if you need anything special, handsome!?’ Who does that whore think she is? Baby, do note that it’s taking me very large amounts of self-restraint not to get up right now and slap her silly. I can’t believe that an air stewardess would hit on anyone so openly like that, much less you! God, Y/N, I—”

Natasha’s stream of enjambments decrescendos into a meek silence at the look on your face.

Evanescent was the abrupt change in your demeanour, as if a switch had been flicked, as if the rest of the world had faded away, and it was just the two of them left.

Natasha’s cheeks flush so prettily, so quickly, because that look on your face only meant one thing.

A set jaw, glinting in the light — cut marble sculpted from the finest hands. Eyes that descend into such deep hues that Natasha feels like she’s drowning like the Titanic, downwards towards the depths of hell.

“Less talking, baby, more sucking.”

A rough hand finds Natasha’s head under the blanket and her hair is tugged on forcefully, jerking it forward to engulf the entirety of your cock. Natasha is more than happy to comply.

Natasha’s pretty gag is lost in the sound of the ongoing turbulence, and you grunt and drag those velvet walls down the length of your cock again. If Natasha decided to act like a brat, you could sure as hell treat her like one.

Up and down, up and down, and the way you manhandle Natasha to deepthroat a solid eight inches should be considered an Avengers-level threat. If you close your eyes, you can almost see the tears welling up in Natasha’s eyes, her pretty lips wrapped around your cock, strands of hair clinging to beads of sweat that adorn her face.

You're not too sure if the wet and squelching noises you hear are from Natasha's slick throat or a figment of your ever-rampant imagination. Either way, the contracting waves of Natasha’s throat around your cock is downright sinful, pretty and easy and oh so pliant.

From base to tip and tip to base, a preordained promise of paradise hangs in the atmosphere, and with each passing stroke, you barrel towards that high. You thrust hard into Natasha's throat, stretching it out, filling it up.

You lose yourself in the wet heat of Natasha’s mouth, your cock being stimulated in such heavenly eloquence of Natasha’s tongue. As an Avenger, you've fought a thousand battles, but none of them have ever quite left you as breathless as this one.

You're awfully close.

In the haze of being used like a mindless fucktoy, Natasha’s hand slips up the expanse of your clenched thigh muscle, and proceeds to toy with the heavy sack of balls. You groan, gripping Natasha’s hair tighter, tugging her downwards.

You're really, really close.

Your ears prick up as a sound emits from under the blanket, and your keen hearing picks up a whiny moan that sounds an awful lot like “Daddy, please”.

Oh, fuck.

Natasha’s helpless plea is what causes you to tumble over the edge of precipice, waves crashing and planets colliding as your vision becomes pure, unadulterated, white heat. “Fuck,” you grunt, a dragged-out groan from your chest, a ringing emblem of castle walls that crumble down.

Streaks and streaks of milky, white fluid are released into the depths of Natasha’s throat, coating her velvet walls, thick and creamy as it splatters against pink walls. Contented moans resound from Natasha, as she continues to suck on your extensive cock like it’s her last lifeline, like she might as well perish without it.

For a brief moment, you question your existence in the universe, and how remarkably infinitesimal you feel, hanging kilometres above the wide open sea and nothing else.

Be it land or sea or stars, though, you think you've found your muse, your reason for staying.

“Natasha,” you breathe out, like a sacred prayer, like a haunted blessing, as pleasure overrides your system.

You don’t recall quite how long you stay in that exact position, a hand cupping the back of Natasha’s head, rocking gently thorugh the aftershocks, Natasha’s palm resting on the side of your thigh.

Sentience gradually floats back into your capability, and you slowly blink as you arise from your out-of-body experience. “Well, shit,” you mumble, the aeroplane filtering into view, the snores from sleeping passengers around you becoming audible again.

Once the coast was deemed clear, you lift up the blanket covering your lap, but it turns out to be a dreadful decision as the sight of Natasha almost causes you to roll back into another orgasm.

Natasha’s previously neat hair was now a complete mess, sticking to her mouth and the sides of her face in the heat of sweat and slick. What used to be perfect, unblemished eyeshadow was now a runny mess due to Natasha’s tears, and a nude shade of bottle-red lipstick was smeared across her mouth and your semi-erect cock.

Lowered lashes shielded a smokey gaze, nearly all black, and you can feel herself hardening again, like you hadn’t just received a filthy blowjob that would make the heavens blush.

Immediately, that image of Natasha Romanoff was imprinted into her mind for an eternity to come, saved for future purposes.

By some saintly miracle, none of the passengers surrounding had awoken, and Natasha successfully crawls back into her seat with an all-too-smug smile.

“How was it?” She asks innocently, batting those lashes with a seductive head-tilt.

“I don’t know, maybe you should’ve moaned ‘Please, Daddy,’ just a little louder,” you retort quickly, no bite behind your words, delighting in the pink flush that adorns your girlfriend’s cheeks.

On about the ninth hour of the flight, approximately one hour after Natasha drew out an earth-shattering orgasm from your megalithic shaft, you effectively draws closer to Natasha, with crossed arms that unhelpfully accentuate the bulge of your biceps.

“Let me rail you in the toilet?”

“Y/N L/N, I am not sitting my bare ass on that filthy bathroom counter. I don't wish to end up with an STI."

“Who says I need to a counter to fuck you, hm?”

──── ☆ ⋅ ★ ⋅ ☆ ────

After three splendid orgasms, more abundant wails of ‘Daddy, please’ emitting from the toilet, and that same, very embarrassed flight stewardess politely requesting for them to get the fuck out, you and Natasha land in Dubai, officially kickstarting your romantic getaway with a bang.

Literally, quite a bang.

haven't written something new in forever, hopefully this is enough to satiate you gremlins' desires... (but forreal tho, thanks for sticking around) reblog or i'll hunt you down and NOT post for 12493482 years

main m.list

[thegnomelord]

just read about demon hunter reader and demon ghost cuddling, and the first thing i thought was how ghost would react if, one of these times, reader ends up having a wet dream and dry humping his ass 😋

about time that our demon thinks of getting laid, he's disgusted and turned on at the same time

Sorry this took a while lads :Dd, I'm getting back into writing after all that shit with my school but I got a summer job as an assistant medical worker with 12h shifts every other day so It might take a bit for me to write stuff.

Hush, Hunter

CW:NSFW, MDNI, demon Simon Ghost Riley x male hunter reader, grinding, wet dreams, handjob, blowjob, size difference (demon ghost is like 11 feet tall.)

Your ‘husband’ is strange, even by demon standards.

He grumbles about the inconvenience brought on by your mortal failings and fragility, growling whenever you have to stop at a gas station to buy food or at some dingy motel to sleep. He grumbles even more about being confined in the stolen human skin suit he's forced to wear to blend in.

You can ignore the stranger with the stolen face and hellfire eyes throwing dark glares at you for the most part, except for when the demon decides to make the binding ring around your finger heat up when you spend too long talking to the pretty cashier. And it only takes a few more seconds of not paying heed to the incessant burn before Ghost Simon looms behind you, glaring at the flustered cashier like she’s a fey trying to trick you into the Fey Lord’s court.

And the big bastard never gives you any explanation on why he’s acting like that, just drags you back to your car, slamming the doors closed with enough strength to shake the entire vehicle. He’s like a cat honestly; hisses at you, but doesn’t want to let you out of his sight or claws.

But when your nightmares get so bad your only chance of sleeping is on the floor, well hidden behind the bed with your back flush with the dingy motel wall, Ghost surprises you by laying down with you. Sure he grumbles about the demeaning position - laying like some mongrel dog - but he still does it.

Ghost is on his side, his broad muscular back to you, rough inky scales swallowing all the moonlight that filters through the blinds and turning him into a pitch black wall of muscle. He’s so still you might even think he’s sleeping – you know he’s not; demons aren’t tied to mortal laws, nor are they subject to time’s iron grip, that’s what makes hunting demons so dangerous. The only indication you have that he’s awake is the occasional twitch of his tail and the slight shuffle of his wings when you accidentally get closer to him in your attempt to get a comfortable position.

You flinch when his one wing spreads out and back, but the blanket of black and blood dyed feathers soon eases the tension in your body. Probably too quickly, definitely too quickly, but Ghost doesn’t draw attention to it and neither do you and the night is cold and he is blissfully warm and he stays stock still when you shuffle a bit closer. You're glad he pays no attention to you when you get comfortable against him, barely an inch of space between you two.

His feathers tickle your face, they’re softer than you’d expect a wrath demon to have, fluffy like the down of chicks. His scent invades your nose, rough leather and steel oil and something distinctly demonic you can’t name. . . but it’s strangely comforting.

Laying only an inch or two away from a demon goes against everything you’ve ever been taught. Your nerves should be on a razor’s edge, but instead you’re calm. You don’t know why your fucked up mind finds comfort in the fact a possible threat would need to go through half a ton of murderous wrath demon to get to you. And you don’t want to think about it either, you’ve had far too many sleepless nights for your brain to care how you manage to sleep so long as you do. And the moment you close your eyes, you’re out like a light.

Ghost has gotten used to your nightmares.

Just like his father’s absent love, your nightmares are consistent. He’s almost impressed how such a frail thing like you could hunt the likes of hydras and Hell Dukes when you barely sleep a wink most nights. The longest you’ve gone is a couple of hours of restful sleep before you woke up trying to claw your eyes out. You never talk about it, nor does he, Ghost may be a demon but he knows far too well how the mind can haunt someone.

And Ghost has gotten good at telling apart the individual nightmares by how you squirm in your sleep.

It takes a little longer for the nightmare to start than usual, but he knows you’re neck deep in it when you heart starts it’s frantic drumming in your chest. He ruffles his feathers as your hands grip his sides, your breath fanning over his skin. He thinks it might be the basilisk haunting you this time by the way you press yourself flush with his back, burying your face into the space between his shoulder blades until your nose is flush with his spine, back hunching to further shield your eyes.

Ghost doesn’t, nor will he ever, mention the low happy rumble that escapes him when you snuggle up to him. His feathers fluff up, the scratchy hair of his tail flattening down - about as silk soft as he can make them. It’s little better than throwing pearls before swine, you won’t remember any of this after all, but doing this strangely doesn’t feel as much of a burden as it should.

Usually the low deep purring growling will chase away your nightmares and lull you into a dreamless sleep for a little while, but not this time. You squirm against his back like an eel, muscles tensing to grip his sides until dregs of pain dance along his spine. Your breath fans across his scales, your heart pounding in his ears like that of a rabbit’s caught in a snare. He’s just about ready to turn around and wake you before he feels it—

Your arousal pokes his back, hard like iron.

Only now does he pick up the slight sweetness of arousal in your adrenaline rich scent. “Hm- fuck.” You mumble as you roll your hips to grind your cock against him. “Slow- fuck fuck- slow down.” You breathe out, and Ghost swears this must be another part of his father’s eternal punishment. The sudden thought that your dream is of a sexual nature smites him with all the intensity of his father’s rage.

Who do you think you are, taking his little mercies for granted? Who do you think you are, grinding against him like some mongrel mutt? Who do you think you are holding him as if you are more than the eventual reward for the maggots fervent prayers? Who do you think you are—

“Ghost- Simon. . .” His name, his original name, leaves your lips; it’s the softest he’s ever heard you speak.

“Human.” He seethes and rolls around, pushing the warm feeling –warm like a campfire compared to the blistering pits down below that usually dwell in his chest– out of his mind. “Disgusting.” You’re so small compared to him, your head could easily fit in his rough hand, a momentary lapse in the binding’s protection all that it would take for his flesh rending claws to cleave through your skull. He’s thought about it often, of the look in your eyes as your life fades, of how good your blood would taste, of how nice your shoulder would look with his teeth marks on it. . .

His hand is gentle as he reaches to brush your cheek, like he’s handling glass, rumbling when you lean into the touch. “Wretched thing.” He growls, hand sliding from your cheek to your back and pulling you close. He feels you nuzzle into his wide chest, carefully bullying his thigh between yours, steel hard muscle tensing to give you a good surface to grind on. “Nothing more but a mongrel waste of flesh.” He doesn’t notice how quickly his voice has lost heat, barely above a murmur as he listens to your breathless gasp and watches your back arch.

For someone usually so guarded, you are painfully naked in flesh and soul, responding so wantonly to his touches; from low moans to soft little murmurs of ‘Simon’ and ‘more’ that has him mindlessly rubbing his thigh against your crotch in hopes of getting more of those so painfully human sounds. You moan and nuzzle into his chest, your body like soft clay in his hands now that you’re no longer shackled by the chains of pride and prejudice that your mind conjures around him

You’re like a strange bug to him; a part of him wants to pin you down, to tear you apart with vicious claws and see if there’s anything different in the way your heart beats, in the way your lungs move, in the way you exist — something substantial to show why holding you in his arms doesn’t feel as degrading as it should.

He wonders, briefly, if this is what God saw that made him love Adam so much. Why God did not have the heart to kill Adam for his disobedience.

Greed moves his hands like they’re puppets on strings, flesh rending claws carefully tracing the bumps of old and fresh scars that dot your abdomen — perhaps you aren’t so pathetic, it takes strength to survive this long. Your skin prickles from his touch, your breath fanning over the rough belly scales protecting his front as his hand slowly moves down. He hooks a claw under the band of your underwear and pulls down until your cock springs out right into Ghost’s hand.

Ghost hasn’t seen many cocks before, why would he?, but a low sound comes from his chest at how neatly your cock fits in his hand, how neatly all of you fit against him. And only now does it dawn on him that he doesn’t know how to do this— he’s a wrath demon for fuck’s sake, he understands war and bloodshed like it’s the back of his hand, but this? This is new territory.

Well, he’s never been one to back down when he’s gotten this far.

His hand slowly closes into a fist, just a little loose around you. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t be anything but gentle in the way he strokes you. Your hips move on their own, gentle little rocks to fuck your cock into his fist and he follows along with the motion. It’s a little rough at first, he feels how the dry slide of his hand makes you shiver, but he soon finds a nice pace as your precum eases the glide of flesh on flesh.

He wants to see your face when you moan, but he can’t bring himself to pull you away from his chest when you cling to him so sweetly, your lips mindlessly ghosting over his scales. So he contends himself with coiling his tail around your leg, draping a wing over you so there’s a barrier between you and the rest of the world, so no creature from heaven high or deep below may entertain the thought of taking what’s his.

No good thing lasts for long.

He feels you wake like the first thaw in spring, slow and gradual, eyes fluttering open, mind still clouded with pleasure to really understand the position you’re in. He takes advantage of that, gripping your hip to keep you close, swirling his tumb in the precum beading at your head and squeezing his hand just right to coerce a breathless moan from your chest.

Then your eyes snap open, realisation hitting you with the same intensity as the punch you throw at his skull. But the ‘marriage’ turns that show of force into a gentle caress of the skull cheek of his ‘face’. “Ghost what the fuck are you-” You begin, cut off as another clench of his hand has you gripping his forearm and biting your lip to silence yourself. 

“Oh hush hunter.” Ghost rumbles low in his throat, his wing tensing behind your back to bring you in closer, soft blood dyed feathers encasing you in a cocoon of warmth against his cool belly scales. “No need to wake the other worms.” Disdain and mockery drip from his voice like molasses, yet strangely it doesn’t feel aimed at you. . . it must just be the pleasure making you believe that.

“You- bastard!” You snarl, trying to summon the hunter savagery that had been meticulously beaten into you, but it slumbers like a fat cat. “Fuck off- get away from me.” You aim to slam your fist against his scaled abdomen, just a little lower and to the side where the floating ribs should be, but all you manage is a slow caress of his side and back up his chest where you can feel his eternal soul burning beneath the flesh.

He laughs and slides his hand down, rolling your balls in his wide hand and squeezing just enough to be at the edge of pain– shit, that should not feel so good. You hiss and throw your head back despite the inherent danger of exposing your throat. He tilts his head down, ghostly breath washing over your ear, “We both know if you wanted this to stop you would have done so.” Oh, now you can just feel the mockery in his voice, sweet like honey that it is.

Some petulant part of you thinks of arguing, anything to retain what remains of your damn pride, but then he slides his hand back up, pressing your cock against your stomach and grinding the palm of his hand against your shaft and all the thoughts of arguing are pushed to the side by the tide of pleasure. Fuck, it’s been far too long since you ‘took care’ of things, it’s not like you have much time to wank off, let alone with Ghost hanging over your shoulder like some grim reaper. And hell, if any other hunter heard you let a damn demon jack you off, yours would be the next head put on the stake but. . . but Ghost is surprisingly gentle with you, not a single hint of pain coming from his touches, not even from his claws gently running down your side.

“Fine-” You suck in a sharp breath, head fixed to stare directly at his chest. “Make it quick.”

You feel him smirk against your ear, “As you wish, hunter.” He laughs lowly, like you’re nothing but a cute puppy chewing on his shoelaces, “Though, you should thank me for debasing myself like this.” He growls, and with a sharp move of his wing he rolls you on your back. 

You gasp as your back hits the sleeping mat, and before you can even struggle Ghost looms over you, a wall of muscle and dark scaled flesh. “Fuck no.” You growl, some scraps of pride still clinging to your mind, though even those are threatened when his broad hand returns to stroking your cock, faster this time, the drag of his palm making pleasure sizzle up your spine. Your head rolls back to rest on the mat and you don’t even notice when you close your eyes. You’re not sure how Ghost is so good at this, something sharp like jealousy curling in your stomach at the thought of him doing this to someone else. But it’s hard to think when you can feel and hear him purring, his claws gently tracing your stomach and leaving lingering heat everywhere they touch.

You jump as something slick brushes over your balls, “Look, good hunter.” He growls and you listen without thought, eyes wide when you see his tongue— it extends from the darkness of his head just beneath the rotten upper teeth of his skull, long, black, thick strings of oil coloured spit dripping off his tongue. “That’s better,” He purrs; you’re not sure how he can talk, and you’re unable to ask because he leans in closer until your cock rests against his skull, his hellfire eyes burning in the darkness and giving just enough light for you to see his long black tongue curl around your base like a snake. 

Shit– he wants to kill you.

“Holy fuck Ghost-” You breathe out, lungs burning before you remember how to breathe. His tongue moves, squeezing your base and sliding lower to lap at your balls. You’re forced to bite your finger to stop the painfully pathetic sound burning on your tongue.

He stops moving and you’re thankful he doesn’t mention the whine that slips past your lips. “Simon.” He demands, oily spit clinging to your skin and making it tingle with heat.

“Simon.” You nod along dumbly, “Fuck- Simon.”

“Good.” You imagine he’s smiling when he says that, his hand returning to stroke your cock in reward. “Call me that again.” He says, a purr rumbling in his chest and you can’t help but moan at how the vibrations travel through his tongue, making it act like a vibrating toy.

Your hands fly to grip his horns, the pleasure making you throw your head back yet you try to keep your eyes on him, hiccuping his name between harsh breaths. He doesn’t mind the touch on his horns, leaning into the touch before flicking his tongue at your taint. He rewards you for each time you say his old name, tongue and hand working in tandem to slowly and steadily march you towards release. 

You try to tug on his horns to warn him, or maybe to pull him away, but he pays no heed; he doubles his efforts, wetly slurping at your balls and base while his hand toys with your crown, his free hand holding your hips down so all you can do is weather the pleasure until you’re finally pulled under the waves. “Simon-” You gasp, cum spurting all over his hand and your stomach. 

You watch through lidded eyes as he retracts his hand, keeping his gaze on you as he lazily licks up your cum from his hand. “Better than I expected.” He rumbles, more to himself than you, leaning up to drag his long slimy tongue across your stomach to gather up all your cum.

 Shit, that sight got you hard again before you could even soften.

You’re not sure if the greed you see spark in his eyes makes you scared or even harder, but you’re not left any room to think further about it before his tongue wraps around your cock again.

Unfortunately for you, demons have no concept of time as mortals know it, so his ‘quick’ ends up being the entire rest of the night. At one point you get to the point you’re sure Ghost is trying to kill you with all the pleasure, spit polishing your cock until he’s satisfied and by that point the sun is rising and your voice is hoarse.

You can’t meet the gaze of the motel receptionist in the morning, but Ghost Simon, looks smug like the cat who ate the canary.

[pookiesatoru]

you belong with me

✰ . . . bridgerton au, gojo is meant to be a viscount, fem!reader / fem!pronouns used, secret relationship kinda???, mention of arranged marriage, secret meetings (no cheating though) fluff & smut, fingering, ooc gojo idk he’s lovesick and shit, kinda olden day language that i don't think is 100% correct but idc the brainrot is too strong at this point for me to care therefore you shouldn't either <3

✰ . . . 2.5k words i don't know how we got here

✰ . . . i uhhhh binge watched bridgerton in less than a week and i am having the most scandalous thoughts and scenarios about it.. like i am vibrating at the speed of light waiting for the second part to drop tonight LMFAO this is just pure word vomit and brainrot and it's probably shit because i don't remember the last time i sat and wrote smth this long... but oh well !!! i also SUCK at titles thanks taylor swift for having this song

Satoru Gojo loves a good thrill. The thrill of betting his money on horse races or boxing matches. The thrill of playing pranks on the maids or the cooks. The thrill of having all eyes on him as he walks into a room. He knows everyone will stare considering his wealth and the status of his family but it still feels good, feeds his ego. His favourite thrill however? The one where he meets with you in secret. Just thinking about sneaking away from the public eye, trying to find a quiet place where you two could have time alone, where you could kiss and touch each other, sent goosebumps all over his body. It excited him.

You're not sure why you let him coax you into it though. As a lady, you should be prim and proper, present at the balls or social gatherings. You're meant to be talking to your friends or making conversation with respectable suitable gentlemen, or in the midst of getting courted. Perhaps it is because Gojo Satoru is a breath of fresh air in such a repetitive lifestyle that you keep sneaking off in the middle of the gatherings to see him, and it's certainly no different tonight.

In the middle of the ball, you see Satoru’s tall figure slip past a group of people and off into the shadows. To avoid being seen as suspicious, you need to wait a few moments before you too find yourself following after him. The minutes of waiting around feel like hours however, your feet are itching to just walk off and run to him, but you can't. It would be seen as outrageous for a lady to be seen with any man alone, it would cause an uproar within the community, spreading amongst the partygoers and even the ones who didn’t come within a matter of hours.

Then finally, after what feels like eons, you excuse yourself from the people you were chatting with. You're glad the ladies you were with are attempting to woo the gentlemen that had approached the group by fluttering their hand fans and blinking excessively. Quietly, you make your way towards the corridors. The females are too busy trying to gossip and the men are trying to prove their wealth or talk about their mistresses which makes slipping away into the shadows easier.

You are quite lucky that it was your family who was responsible for today's ball. It made it easy to find a secluded place where you and Satoru could meet without having to worry about a member of the ton or one of your maids accidentally finding the two of you alone, god forbid that from happening. You hold your dress up so you don't trip over it, walking briskly to one of your many gardens at the back of your family's estate. It is dark outside and the air is now chilly, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up as you slow down and try to squint in the darkness, attempting to spot your favourite white haired male.

"Oh? What do we have here? A rather fine young lady, all alone. With no one around... but me." You'd recognise that teasing voice anywhere and you're immediately spinning around to face him with a smile on your face.

"Lord Gojo." A pout on his face grows almost immediately as you bend at your knees to bow at him, a gesture of respect that has been conditioned into your very being since you were a little girl.

"I thought I told you to call me–"

"Just Satoru, yes. I am well aware of that." The use of his first name has him smiling almost as quickly as he had pouted, and in only a couple of steps he is directly in front of you, chest in your line of sight. You have to tilt your head upwards to get a good look at his handsome face.

"I have to say, I rather enjoy the way my name falls from your lips." He's not slick with his eye movements, tongue darting over to lick at his plump pink lips while his eyes glance at your mouth and back to hold your gaze again. "You make it sound... Pretty."

"Well, it is a pretty name for a pretty boy. Your mother did well at picking it."

"Darling, as much as I adore my own mother, I did not ask you to meet with me so I could listen to you praise her."

"Oh Satoru!" You have to cover your mouth so you don't laugh out loud and garner unwanted attention. "Are you jealous of your mother?"

"I am not!" He hushes you, thankful that you are meeting in darkness and the only light is from the moon so you don't see the blush of embarrassment on his cheeks. "Not of her at least."

You are about to open your mouth to ask what he means but he beats you to it. "Lord Basset was rather close to you... Was he not?"

"He spoke to me for a mere two minutes, if that, Satoru. Besides, all he asked was how my family was doing, nothing more."

"Two minutes too many if you ask me." There is a slight growl in his voice as he mumbles unhappily, large hands pulling you close to his frame by your hips.

"Perhaps you need to start courting me in public."

"Sweetheart." He sighs, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours. "The sooner my father realises I do not wish to marry the woman he has chosen for me, the better. It is torment trying to stay away from you in public. Mother is attempting to talk to him now, I think she may know I have someone else I would rather be courting."

You feel him furrow his eyebrows, scrunching them up as he speaks and thinks about the marriage his father is trying to get him to agree to. His father is a businessman, and the marriage, If Satoru agrees, would give them more wealth and more power – Something that the Gojo family already has ample amount of according to Satoru but it was not enough for his father.

"Toru," You begin, voice barely above a whisper. "I can wait for you. I will wait, do not worry about that."

"What did I do to deserve such an understanding woman like you?" Satoru exhales deeply, letting out a breath of air he did not realise he was holding all this time.

"For one, forcefully drag me to meet with you secretly."

"What a strange way to say I wooed you with my charms."

“What charms exactly?”

“Oh, you know. My pretty face, my sense of humour, how witty I am– oh! Lets not forget how tall I am.” You’re holding back a laugh as he lists off his so-called charms to you.

“Let us not forget how you were looking not so subtly at my hands when we first met either. Or my pants, not very ladylike of you, is it?”

“That is not my fau–”

“Oh so you are blaming me for your pervertedness?!” He gasps rather too loudly and you’re quick to cover his mouth with panic.

“Satoru! Please… Keep it down!” You’re whisper-yelling at him, heart pounding as you look around with fear.

He just hums against your hand over his mouth, rubbing your waist as he removes it and kisses the tips of your fingers gently. “You are afraid of being seen with me.”

“Unchaperoned, yes. You are well aware of how everyone will talk about a lady being seen alone with a man such as yourself.”

“Would it not be for the best if we were seen by someone though? Then, I would be forced to marry my little secret, and my father would be forced to give up on his ridiculous quest to marry me off.”

You can’t find yourself to talk back to him and put his crazy idea to rest because he did have a point, unfortunately.

“Sweetheart,” He began, peppering kisses on the tips of your fingers to your wrist, all the way to your inner arm and eventually leading his lips to your neck. “Please, let us be caught.”

“S–Satoru– We can’t… The public scrutiny, the ton–”

“Fuck what the ton has to say. I feel as if I am dying from not having you by my side. Do you know how bad I want to kiss you? How I want to promenade with you, to show you off to the men, to let everyone know you are mine and mine only just as how I belong only to you?”

Satoru’s hands wander to the curve of your ass as he speaks his heart out, large hands groping the flesh best he could over layers and layers of your clothes. You feel him breathing heavily against the skin of your neck, which is soon followed by him inhaling your scent with his eyes closed shut. Then, he’s cupping the side of your face, thumb rubbing over your bottom lip which has him gulping as he waits for verbal consent.

“Satoru. Touch me.”

And he wastes no time in doing so, capturing your lips in a rather messy and sloppy kiss that you are sure will do nothing but mess up the expensive lipstain you are wearing.

You push him further into the shadows where you know not a soul will be able to see you two from the lack of light. He’s against the brick wall and he lets out a small grunt into the kiss but makes no effort to pull away from your mouth. Instead, he takes a hold of your waist and spins the two of you around so now you are hidden in the shadows. By chance, if someone was to see the both of you, your body would be hidden and you wouldn’t be exposed.

Satoru always kisses you with passion, as if there’s a fire burning inside of his body that only you can put out but something about this particular kiss feels far too different to any kiss you have shared before. It feels more urgent. More desperate, you can physically feel it with how hard his lips press against your own. How he grunts and groans into the kiss, how his hand is now cupping the nape of your neck to keep you in place while the other pulls your waist into his own crotch. It allows you to feel the hardness in his pants against your stomach and has you letting out your own set of whimpers.

Momentarily, he pulls back to allow you to breathe. “Let us be caught.”

“Do not try and convince me when you have made my head go dizzy with lack of air.”

“Perfect time, is it not? Come on sweetheart, do you not want to have all of me? To feel all of me?”

“You are a disgusting pervert.” There’s no bite behind it however. Not when your thigh is being wrapped around Satoru’s waist and you feel his hands inch further and further up your thighs.

“Yeah? Why don’t you say that again, you know I love it when you call me names.”

If you weren’t seconds from being fingered, maybe you would have hit his shoulder but you feel the pads of his fingers rub your mound over your undergarments before you could do so.

You’re sighing in pleasure as he continues to tease you over the fabrics but you grow impatient. It’s not as if you haven’t been in this very compromising position before, you’re well aware of how long the white haired male can tease you for, how much he loves it. But when you are in public, only a couple of hundred yards away from the partygoers on your own estate, it is not the time for hours upon hours of teasing, especially not against a brick wall.

“Toru, please. More…”

He pretends not to hear you, keeping a straight face as he keeps on holding your thigh up as the other hand continues to touch you but not really give you what you truely need.

“Toruuu, now is not the time to be a tease.”

“Oh? What’s that? I couldn’t quite hear you sweetheart. Would you mind speaking a little louder for me?”

“Satoru!”

“Y/N!”

Your head tilts back out of anger, hitting against the brick wall behind you with a gentle thud. You despise how he’s choosing to act with you right now.

“Say it.” He speaks, but it’s not using that annoying, teasing tone of his he usually gives you when you want him to touch you more. It’s serious. “Say you are mine.”

His eyes lock onto yours, keeping eye contact as he waits for your answer.

You do not keep him waiting, cupping the side of his face as you speak with sincerity. “I am yours, just as you are mine.”

Satoru feels his cock twitch in his trousers, wanting nothing more than to be balls deep in you right after you said that, but not yet. He can wait, he will wait for you to marry him before taking away your virginity. He’s a gentleman, albeit that gentlemanly honour is hanging by a mere thread when you speak about belonging to him with that pretty voice of yours.

But his fingers are quick to push your undergarments to the side and allow you to truly feel his touch in all its glory. Even in the darkness, he knows exactly where to touch, and he finds the little nub that makes you feel good with ease that it’s almost scary. He allows his fingertips to make circles on it, and you’re burying your face in the suit jacket he’s wearing to drown out your noises that you know will get louder and louder.

His digits have you so riled up and wet in a matter of minutes that his fingers are easily buried in your warmth with one swift move.

You always feel full, how could you not when he has such large hands and long fingers. “Feels— so good, ‘Toru.”

“I know sweetheart.”

“Much better than when I do it to myself…” You know he loves hearing words that boost his ego and god, did it make him feel things. It garners a low growl from him, and he’s pumping his fingers into you with such vigour you swear you two will be caught with just how loud the skin slapping and sloppy noises are.

It does not take long for you to reach your high, two digits in your pussy whilst one rubbed your clit and you’re cumming with shaky thighs and a soft cry of the man’s name, thankful that he’s holding the back of your head and pushing your face into his chest so you don’t accidentally moan out loud.

“Marry me.” He whispers, forehead resting against your own as you pant and come down from your orgasm.

“Get me a ring and I will say yes in a heartbeat and fight your father for your hand in marriage, Satoru.”

i also can’t write endings for shit rip me </3

[bohbee]

Brothers reacting to MC getting hit!

Warnings: Blood, Hitting, Ass smacking, Manhandling, aggression, yelling.

Notes: This isn't proofread lmao

Part 2

Masterlist

Lucifer

Lucifers eyes glared at the group in RAD. His legs marched over to the commotion, and his crimson gaze landed on a succubus yelling at.... MC? He let out a heavy sigh and started raking through the crowd of demoms. Until a piercing sound of skin being hit rang through his ears. He looked back up only to find you on the floor, a gash on your lip, a large handprint painting your cheek. That's all it took for his demon form to emerge. The dark aura immediately caused everyone to disperse. Before the succubus could do any more, his hand grabbed their wrist tightly. "Go to Lord Diavolos office, I am sure he would love to learn about what I just saw." His voice was cold and intimidating. "If you attempt to run away, I will find you. You should know what that means." The succubus nodded and ran off to the Lords office. Lucifer kneeled down to your body, carefully grabbing it. "Let's go home."

His fingers delicately cleaned the wound on your lip, "You don't need to tell me anything. Just.... you need to stay near someone at all times, I'm serious, MC, something much worse could've happened." His voice sounded like he was scolding you in which he was, but he was mainly worried. "I know, Luci, I'm sorry." You said softly, and you wrapped your arms around his body carefully. "Thank you for everything." His heart tugged tightly in his chest, and he reciprocated the hug. "Of course, dear."

He softly kissed your forehead, "I don't understand how a human could place these feelings in me." He admitted, pulling you down into his grasp as he flopped on his bed. "Not just any human, your human." His chest swelled with intense pride in that moment, "You have never been more correct."

(Bonus: Diavolo sat happily in his office, writing away on a game week idea for RAD. Until his doors swung open, a pink haired succubus sobbing, he immediately got up to assess the situation but was stopped by Barbatos. "You may take a seat." The butler said to the succubus, she shuddered in fear, and sat in the far corner.

An hour went by, and Diavolo excused himself to answer Lucifers call. Only to return back to the room after a minute, his face enraged. "So." He started off deeply staring into the succubus eyes. "You think you can touch my exchange student?"

Poor pink haired girl)

Mammon

Mammon had invited you out to 'shop' with him, in which you, of course, agreed. Now, the two of you were in a crystal shop. "Hey, this one says prevents lava horse attacks. What kind of crystal does that?!" You asked, amazed at what the small crystal could do. Mammons eyes turned towards the gem in your hand, "Hey! There's one over there matching it perfectly. Stay here. I'll grab it." He said quickly, his body marched over to the other side of the store searching for the similar crystal.

You continued to look at the items around until you heard commotion, "Oi! I ain't stealin' anything. I'm just looking!" Mammons voice rang out. Most of the time, you'd think he was lying, but he literally just told you what he was doing. You walked over carefully, attempting to pull your dear crush from the situation. You reached for Mammons' hand "Lets-" your voice was cut off by a heavy hand slapping your arm away. The greedy demons eyes darkened as he turned into his demon form, growling, grabbing the owners arm.

"Who the hell do you think you are touching my human?" His grip got tighter, his sharp nails digging into the whimpering demon. "Never again." Was all he said before walking out, you in his arms. He grabbed a shit ton expensive crystals on the way out shoving them in his bag, not caring about the consequences. He pulled you to a bench, carefully sitting you down. His eyes immediately peered at your slightly bruised arm. "C'mon human, I could've handled it, y'know?" He said softly, "Let's go to the house, I'll take care of ya, not that I want to or anything..... just that y'know, humans are weak, and I'm your first!"

The two of you sat on your bed, his soft hands holding the ice pack on your arm. "Heh, remember the first time this happened." He said, laughing at the memory. "Yeah... you said to only come to you for help......" His eyes glistened at you, amazed at you remembering his words, "Thank you for helping me, Mams." You smiled softly at him, your lips softly pressed on his. "Oi- y-you can't just do that! B-but of course, the Great Mammon would help my human!" The two of you reminisced on moments the whole night before falling asleep in each other's arms.

(Bonus: Lucifer knocked on the door. After not getting a response, he opened it. He was shocked to see his younger brother cradling your body, even more so when he saw the expensive crystals lying around. "Mammon, why are there -" the eldest whispered in a scolding tone. "He hit them. I took his shit." The white-haired demon interrupted his older brother, in which he only nodded. "Text me the name of the place." He whispered yet again before walking towards the door, "Also, breakfast is ready." Lucifer left the room. Before walking to the dining room, he let a small smile grace his face. 'He finally found his person, the older brother thought.)

Leviathan

You sat with your boyfriend at a game convention in the human realm. It wasn't often that the two of you went on dates, but this was surely an exception. Your eyes fluttered to the screen, Leviathan once again beating a renowned gamer of the human realm. The human grew heated and threw the remote down, "Cheater!" He yelled out, causing both you and Levi to jump slightly.

"Huh?!?!" He said, placing down the controller. The dude placed his fingers in Leviathans face "fuckin' weeb, you think you're so clever cheating in front of the whole convention." His voice was filled with anger, definitely a sore loser. Your boyfriend scoffed, "As if I would ever cheat. A normie like you wouldn't understand the true art of video games!" He huffed, out, cleary annoyed at the accusations.

"Don't fucking speak to me like that." He spat at the purple-haired demon, pushing his shoulder slightly. A crowd formed around the three of you, "Don't fucking touch him!" You exclaimed, pushing the disgusting person back, gaining both of the male's attention. Before anyone could split up the fight, the males hand met your face, causing everyone to freeze in place. Leviathan sprung up, landing a solid punch on the dudes face, "Lotan will be visiting." He said before pulling you up, running outside the convention, and going to your hotel room.

His eyes scanned yours. "S-stupid normies," he muttered, his hands strictly staying at his sides. Fearful of touching you. You chucked softly at him, grabbing his hand, which shook slightly. "Thank you for protecting me, my Player #1!" His purple-orange irises widened. "Y-you did it first. I can't believe he put his filthy hands on you... now we can't enjoy our time. here." His voice was slightly shakey, his hands gripping yours tighter. "It's okay, Levi, we will go back tomorrow in our cosplay, alright?" A large smile and blush painted his face "y-yeah"

(Bonus: the two of you sat in the hotel room quietly, Levi was placing on his Ruri wig as you put on the taco mask. He made his way over to you, smiling heavily. No one had ever accepted him like you did. It truly made him feel special. "M-mc." He muttered, catching your attention. You hummed in response, "Could you..... close your eyes for me?" He asked quietly, and you smiled softly and closed your eyes. The mask on your face slightly lifted, slightly chapped lips placing themselves on your own. You opened your eyes in shock, only for a flash of Leviathan to run into the restroom.)

Satan

You and Satan sat in the Cat Café, reading books while cats cuddled into the two of you. "Ah, I'm going to use the restroom, alright Tannie?" He smiled softly at the nickname and nodded, not lifting his eyes from the page. A few minutes went by, and your body then left the restroom. Slowly walking over to your Fiancé, but a male sat in your seat flirting to a very irritated Satan. You walked over, cautiously staring at the situation at hand.

You huffed slightly, causing the male to stare at you disgusted. You grabbed a chair from another table and moved it towards Satan. However, the extra male slapped your hand. "Don't you see I'M talking to him!" His hand then gripped yours tightly, you went to go look for help from Satan but he was gone.

Suddenly, a loud crash was heard, the grip on your hand letting go. You turned your eyes to the person, only to see the blonde demon staring into his soul. True Wrath filling the room, somehow the cats aren't fazed. "Never. Touch. Them. Again." He said deeply, causing the male to cry out in fear, "Run. If I find you, you will be tortured." The male ran off from Satan's aura.

Your Fiancé sighed heavily, sitting back down. He motioned you to join him, in which you did. His hands softly grabbed your wrist, assessing the bruises slowly forming. "I will find him." He muttered lowly, causing you to sweat drop. "But.... I will not let this ruin our date." He requested some ice from the store along with a cat drink and kitten cookie for the two of you to share.

(Bonus: Satan came back to his room after the date. He laid you in his chest, softly kissing your sleeping head before he went shopping on his DDD for some book. 'The Art of Torture'......... '101 of Dignity Breaking'........ 'Soul Shattering Spells'....... he smiled softly as he ordered the books. He then opened the devilgram and looked up the page of the demon. Satan knew exactly who he was. Now, he just had to let him believe he truly got away.)

Asmodeus

The night was loud, Asmo had dragged you out to a new bar in town. He was exceptionally happy that you agreed to go with him. Currently, he was on the dance floor as you watched from aside him, giggling softly. You took another sip of your drink, and two people walked over and sat beside you. You looked at the time on your DDD, shit it was getting late. You huffed out and got up, going to grab your best friend. Only to be stopped by the two people "Some kind of fucking problem? We sat here, and you immediately left?!" The male shouted, you shook your head swiftly, "No- I just needed to go get someone."

He scoffed at you, his grip tightening on your arm, causing you to wince. "Pathetic human, its a shame they let such trash enter here." He spat at you, the female beside him giggling away. You looked in the direction of Asmo only for his back to face you. The male pulled you closer, "Humans are weak, right?" He asked the woman beside him, and she nodded and smiled.

You went to go pull away only for the male to smack your face. His hand then held your chin tightly, tears pricking your eyes. "HEY!" A loud voice rang out causing the male to look in annoyance, only for his demeanor to change "Ah! The renowned Asmodeus, care to join us in.... taking care of this pathetic thing.." He smirked slyly, Asmo quickly used his charm on him.

"Sit." The Strawberry Blonde said, his voice filled with hurt and anger. Your body tumbled backward as the larger male let go, only for the demon of lust to catch you. "The person who you call pathetic is the love of my life." He spat out at both demons, both affected by his charm. "Now, both of you, go out into the depths of the damned and never come back." He huffed out as soon as they left, "Hon, oh deary, I'm so sorry, let's go home."

He pulled you in his bathroom, carefully sitting you down on his bath. "Your beautiful skin, I am so sorry I left you, Hon. Truly, how could I ever repay you." He placed some cream on your face, which numbed the pain quickly. "It's alright, Asmo. I got you know. Heh, the love of your life~" you teased. The male-only nodded, causing you to blush heavily. "I meant what I said, MC"

(Bonus: After the two of you took care of your wounds, he led you to his bed. He apologized multiple times over the night, horrified at your bruises. However, he made it up by kissing you. Both of you made it official to the brothers the next day. Then the two of you had to explain the bruises......... that didn't sit well.)

Beelzebub

You sat in Café Lament, waiting for Beel to come back with the hoard of food. You took a sip of Bufo Egg Milk Tea. Your eyes locked on the orange head, who started to walk over, his arms filled with food. He settled the snacks down and sat on the chair. Only to sigh heavily, "I forgot the forks, hold on, I'll be back." He said, but you quickly grabbed his hand. "I got it, love. Don't worry. Go ahead and eat." He smiled a large smile before shoving his face with food, muttering a thank you.

You walked up to the grab section and grabbed many bamboo ware, preparing them to break in Beelz grasp. "Hey, hot stuff," someone said beside you. You shuffled your eyes to their body. Your brain grimaced at his appearance. He was obviously a sex crazed creep, trying to get you as his next prize. You gave a soft smile and went to walk towards Beel. Who had his eyes on you the whole time. As you walked, a sharp pain was shot through your ass, causing you to drop the bamboo ware. You whipped your head back only to find the man floored by Beel.

It was shocking, The Avatar of Gluttony was by NO means violent. So seeing him in such a fit of rage made your heart stop being for a second. "Leave." He said to the male, who scurried out of the Café. Everyone went back to their own business, Beel then turned his attention to you. "Are you okay, MC?" He asked softly, his arms wrapping around you. You nodded and hugged him back. "Let's go eat, Beely." He smiled again and pulled you to sit with him. Your body plopped into his lap, your ass still stinging a little. "Here I'll feed you." He mumbled with his mouth already full.

(Bonus: the two of you laid in the common room, Belphie taking up the other couch. "MC, I'm sorry he assaulted you like that." He mumbled to you. His eyes were saddened as he looked at you. "My Beel, you protected me! Stop saying it as if you did it." You giggled and kissed his lips. You looked back at the fireplace only to jump when an angry Belphie was in face. "Explain." He said. this was gonna be a long night.)

Belphegor

The two of you were dozing off in class. He was your seat partner, so it was quite difficult not to get affected by his drowsiness. Your head once again bounced while doing the work. There was a sub today, so the teacher just gave paper assignments. The bell rang loudly, causing you to jump. You softly shook Belphegors' shoulders, "Hmm?" He mumbled, causing you to smile. "C'mon, sleepyhead, it's time to go home." He nodded and slowly gathered his stuff.

You went to go walk out with Belph but was stopped by the substitute, "MC. Correct?" She said, annoyed, both you and the youngest brother turned around, "Ah yes, that's me." You mumbled, waiting for her to respond. "I need to have a word with you." She said, Belphie looked at you with hesitant eyes but walked to the door, "I'll be out here." He said.

The substitute glared at you as soon as the door closed. "You are so disrespectful." She spat at you, her body getting into your personal space. "Ah- I do apologize ma'am I am unsure of what you're talking about." She scoffed at you, her finger pointed in your face, "Sleeping while working! A disgusting human like you should know better!" You groaned heavily at her words, this again, each time someone new came to the school they thought they could speak to you however they wanted.

Your groan seemed to have pissed her off cause as soon as it left your lips, she slapped you and pushed you into a desk. The door flung open, and an infuriated Belphegor in his demon form stood in front of the substitute. He grabbed their jaw tightly, his nails digging into her skin. "Isn't so nice now, is it?!" He said with a malice filled grin, the woman shuttered in fear as she dropped to her knees. Belphie knelt down and whispered something in her ear before quickly grabbing you and rushing to the HOL.

He pulled you into the attic and huffed heavily, opening the mini fridge and grabbing some ice packs. He placed you on the bed and carefully handed you them. "I'm sorry, MC, I know it's annoying to always be looked down upon." He muttered. He carefully laid his body on yours after you settled the ice on your body. He whispered something, and suddenly intense relaxation hit you. He would do this whenever you were stressed or hurt. You closed your heavy eyes, Belphie sighed softly and kissed your shoulder before joining you to sleep.

(Bonus: Lucifer looked at his DDD, bewilderment hitting his face. It wasn't often that his youngest brother texted him, so he immediately opened it. His face grimaced at the message. It was an image of a dark bruise that was on your shoulder. 'What happened?' Lucifer typed. 'Substitute lost their shit on them, I messaged you this in defense, I gave them a heavy sleeping spell.' The eldest brother sighed out, of course. He would usually be mad, but this was proper punishment. 'No worries, good choice,' he texted back before closing his phone. "I'm gonna need to teach these demons a damn lesson.")

[yummymitzy]

No one noticed

Summary: You loved undercover missions, they were a breeze, but what you encounter afterwards definitely switched up your mood. What happens when that encounter sends you back into an old habit?

WC: 5,205

A/N: Slightly inspired by the song, but I didn’t know how to go about it😞 ANGSTY?

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Pyrokinesis! Reader

————♡————

Receiving the chance to be an Avenger was incredibly shocking, not expecting such an offer for somebody like you. Not like you were poor or anything, you had a crap ton of money, but you didn’t necessarily have a clean record.

You partook in street racing, that was definitely one thing that didn’t make your record any cleaner. Having also helped your friend, Brian O’Connor, while he was on the run from law enforcement. You both raced together, the two of you were reckless, inseparable, always feeling the need to do dumb shit.

You weren’t so sure what he’d gotten himself into that led him to evading law enforcement, where he used to work. But later on, you assumed that the situation was brushed aside as he was recruited into the FBI. You were proud of him. 

You always admired Brian, he was always so focused on the task at hand but always left enough time to do stupid things with you.  You eventually started assisting him with his tasks assigned by his peers, the both of you catching fugitives as you raced.

You told him everything, there wasn’t any filter between the two of you. He even knew about the fact you were enhanced, and yet his attitude towards you never changed one bit. As a kid, you were transferred from multiple foster parents, which lead you in the hands of one couple.

They looked nice and sweet, pretty old, but once they knew got a good impression with you, they started experimenting on you. They even started sending you to their other scientist friends to use you as a lab rat. 

One day, one of the tests pushed you so far, you don’t remember much from that day. You heard screams, your screams specifically, but then you went unconscious. Once you woke up, the room was charred, the scientists nowhere to be found other than their black fragmented lab coats.  

You insanely thankful for that part of your life being over, especially to the couple that took you in right after. The couple that you now call your parents, they helped you thick and thin and always understood you.

Since you were always traded around throughout foster homes, you taught yourself to be more behaved in an attempt to stay in that home. Not like those cases where you say “you don’t cry,” because you do, everybody does, you just were more silent. 

You always shut down whenever you had a lot of shit going on, long periods of silence as your mind raced. The couple were the ones that you found solace in when you first discovered your powers. 

They were panicked at the first glimpse, but immediately consoled you, soon calming down the once bright flames that cascaded up your arms. They helped you stay on the low, it practically made you tear up with how kind they stayed with you.

But after college was when you really got into street racing, you met Brian. But there was one specific race that didn’t go well, there was this one irritating drug lord that you decided to track down with Brian. 

Trying to reason with the drug lord really didn’t end out well for you two because a fight broke out. The fight was nasty and blood was shed, the drug lord brung out guns that you or Brian didn’t even expect he’d have in his grasp.

You were shocked to say the least when he pointed the barrel of his gun towards Brian, but that quickly wore off. And like the brawn you were, bright flames flared up your arm, your eyes a golden hue as you lunged at the man. 

It was as if the fire was dancing as it burst away from your arm, traveling to the other men in the room, engulfing them in the fire while you rushed towards Brian. 

That was the first time you had ever killed someone, hell even a gang. It was dreadful, the memories clouded in your mind the next few weeks after the incident. But you knew one thing, you’d do it all again if it was for Brian.

————♡————

All of that brought you to where you stood today, an Avenger and street racer. A lot has changed once you got settled in the hero life, you even more proud to say that Natasha Romanoff took an interest to you.

It was embarrassing to admit that you admired Natasha ever since you joined the Avengers. She was incredibly wary of you the first few weeks, but quickly warmed up to you. In her words, you were like a “golden retriever puppy,” you weren’t honestly sure if it was a compliment or not.

That friendship that you built with Natasha blossomed to be more, and soon enough, you found yourself to be at her doorstep. A bouquet of flowers grasped tightly in your hold as your other hand held a neatly wrapped gift bag with her favorite perfume.

You were so glad Natasha took an interest in you, because that first date turned into three, soon with you two becoming official. You two obviously wanted to take it slow and learn the grasps of a relationship together.

That was three months ago, you and Natasha are still together happily. You were proud to say that you loved her, she knew stuff about you that you would never dare to tell a soul. Same with her, she confided in you about her past in the redroom, especially with her nightmares.

Natasha was the sweetest soul you could have ever came across, she has a hard exterior, similar to a rock. But have the right tools and it will crumble into pebbles, that’s what you loved about Natasha.

Were you rambling too much? Hah, maybe.. You were sent out on a solo mission just a few hours ago, the details of the mission in your lap as you read through them. Don’t worry, the jets on autopilot, why would they send you on a mission if you’d crash the quinjet?

The objective wasn’t difficult for you to complete, it was a simple undercover mission, you could probably do it with a blindfold on. You were supposed to get a hit on a man named John Adams.

His files could be written as a book with the amount of felonies he had under his name. You couldn’t really care less, who were you to let your emotions get in the way of your objective? 

The files stated that he would be attending an auction, buying off a very illegal weapon. Statements show from his recorded phone calls that he had specific plans to enhance the weapon, making it more “deadly.”  

Well that was a very lovely file, wasn’t it? Setting down the folder, you stood up, grabbing your duffel bag as you walked over to the medical bed. You unpacked a very revealing yet elegant dress, it was your favorite color. 

Well actually your favorite color to wear, not actually your favorite color, you get it? Yeah. You stepped out of your skin tight suit once you had unzipped it, the freezing air of the jet causing goosebumps to form on your arms. 

The moment you got the dress on, you took a few steps in front the mirror, actually taking a closer look at the dress. It had a deep V cut as the slit of the dress was incredibly high on your upper thigh. 

You squirmed of the thought of having to be all over the man with this revealing dress on, but you really did have no choice, plus you didn’t pack any other dresses. Rolling your shoulders, you head back towards your duffel bag, pulling out a small makeup bag and setting it down near the mirror as you unzipped it. 

Doing your makeup was like a fun hobby for you, you didn’t know how to describe it. You just really like doing it when you’re bored, but this is different since it’s for a mission. 

You don’t know how long you took on your makeup before your phone dings, the familiar ring echoing the jet as you rushed over to your phone. 

Flipping over your phone, the time immediately greets you. 6:45, the party starts at 7, but you need to be early in order to spot John. Skimming through the notifications on your lockscreen, one in particular catches your eye.

Natty🤍:”Goodluck on the mission, detka.” 

The first one said, it was sent a few minutes after you boarded the quinjet a few hours ago.

Natty🤍:”I miss you already. I’ll be waiting when you get back. :)” 

Your eyes drift toward when the message was delivered, an hour after her first message.

Awe. Her smiley faces were so cute. You quickly unlocked your phone and darted to Nat’s messages with you, your fingers flying over the keyboard as you typed up a quick message. 

Y/n/n🔥: “Miss you too, baby. Movie night when I get back?” 

Your attention quickly caught when you felt the quinjet land, you instantly shoved your phone in an extra holster you had on your thigh. 

What? It’s a perfect fit. Plus you’re wearing a dress with no purse, and you were practically forced to keep your phone on you. Fury always made sure to text everybody ominously.  

You rush over to the other side of the jet, where the weapons were held. You pause briefly to browse through the weapons before your hands instantly grab what you wanted.

Yeah, you had powers, so why would you need a weapon? Well the short answer to that would be incase he was aware that you would be attending, even more aware about your powers. So you weren’t going to take any chances.

The weapon that was held gently in your grasp was a ridiculously sharp sword, it was your favorite. If you had the chance, you would be rambling on and on about this exact sword. 

It was retractable, easy to conceal if you were undercover, but your favorite part was that it didn’t melt from your flames. But, that wasn’t the only thing it could do, it isn’t a one trick pony. 

Since the blade doesn’t melt from your flames, it bursts into flames, as if it were another part of your body. You found it fascinating because it truly was. It takes you back to when Bruce called it boring, you quite vividly remember telling him to fuck off. He did have it coming, didn’t he?

You retracted the blade and gently placed it into your other holster as you walk back over to the medical bed, slipping on your heels as you spritz generous amounts of perfume on your neck. 

Swiftly pulling out your phone, you check the time, 6:50. Damn, only five minutes passed by, you assumed it had been ten. Shoving your phone back into its holster, you check yourself once more as the ramp starts to lower.

Walking out the quinjet, you look over your shoulder once more and watch the jet conceal itself. You’ll honestly never get over that.

It took you a quick minute to find the fire escape stairs but soon enough you found yourself in the alleyway next to where the auction was supposed to be held. 

You straightened your dress again as you began to strut towards the very obvious entryway of the auction. This looks like it would be a very easy mission.

You huff to yourself as your gaze meets the bouncer, his gaze scanning you as he crosses his arms over his chest as his posture straightens up.

“Danielle Jones.” The fake name flowing out of your mouth with a silky tone as you show him your fake id. Your other hand lands on his bicep, slowly rubbing it as he immediately handed you back your id, his face flushed a deep red. 

Your fingertips trail up to his shoulder before pulling away as you stepped behind him and into the auction. The place was alive, there was a ton of people dressed beautifully, some clad in masquerade masks. 

You walked straight over to the bar, yeah, it was bad drinking on the job. But you desperately needed to blend in, and it wouldn’t make your case any better if the target saw you just wandering.

As you were scanning the area, your eyes snap to a familiar figure slumped at the bar nursing a drink. Dirty blond, curly hair, well you’ll be damned. 

You huff out a laugh as you approach, your hand gently resting upon his shoulder as you called out to the bartender for a whiskey.

“Hiya, Brian. What’cha doing here?” You smile at the bartender as a thanks once he handed your drink before turning. Your back leaning against the counter as you sipped your whiskey, your eyes trained on Brian.

“Meeting a friend.” His blue eyes travel from his glass towards you, meeting your stare. 

“Cut the shit, Brian. You’re here for the auction, aren’t you?” You raise an eyebrow at him, a smile tugging on your lips as you took another sip of your whiskey, setting it down on the counter behind you.

“You aren’t? The cars they got are practically calling our names.” He smirks as he leaned back in his seat, running a hand through his curls. 

You roll your eyes as you leaned back further into the counter, before your eyes snap towards him once more, a smile played on your lips.

“What’d you say for another task?”

“I’m listening.”

“John Adams, drug lord, wants to do stupid shit with one of the weapons being sold here.” You mumble under your breath, your eyebrow raising in question to confirm that he heard. 

Seeing his slight nod while he processes the information, your eyes trail away from him, spotting the target across the room from you two. The sight making you nudge your knee against Brian’s.

Brians eyes shoot up towards yours, before he slowly turns around to look in the direction you’re looking in. You assume he got the memo as he downs the last of his drink, his fingers slightly grazing the gun on his belt to make sure it’s in place before he gave a subtle nod to you.

Your gaze doesn’t break from John as you made your way across the room, rounding through the tables that stood in your way. As the distance closes between you and John, you whisper underneath your breath, enough for Brian to hear.

“Wait for me at the door of the bathroom, have your gun ready.” Before he could respond, you were already off towards John, your hips swaying slightly as the golden hues hit you.

The moment you passed by John, you heard a gruff voice call out to you. You smirk slightly before turning around, John was turned around in his chair as his arm was outstretched towards you slightly.

“Hey! You! Yeah you, come ‘ere, darling.” Your nose crinkles slightly at the pet name, you didn’t mind it. But you definitely didn’t like it when it came out of his mouth.

You walked towards the chubby man, your hips swaying more noticeably. Once you were stood right in front of him, his hands shot up to rest on your hips. The action made you clench your jaw in disgust.

“You’re such a pretty ‘lil thing. Did you come here with anybody?” His words came out slurred as you could practically smell the stench of beer flowing out of his mouth.

“No, I came alone.” 

“What’s your name, pretty girl?” His grin grow by the second as you feel his hands traveling from your hips to your waist.

“Danielle.” You husk out, the disgust washing over you, but you brush it aside. It’s for the mission. You repeated in your mind over and over.

You move forward a step from where you stood, your hands resting on the armrests that resided on either side of the man. You feel John’s hands slowly tracing down your waist before harshly groping your ass, making you gasp.

“Well, Danielle. What’d you think about coming back to mine?” He purred, his hands now massaging the flesh of your ass, your face contorting into a subtle wince.

“I can’t just go home with you. I don’t even know your name.” You husk, your face turning into a slight pout, one of your hands raising to trace his sternum.

“John, John Adams.” You felt one of his hands trailing up towards your lower back, attempting to push you down onto his lap. 

You grab his hand before tugging him up from his seat, leading him towards the bathroom. You can feel the harsh stare he has on your ass while the two of you walk there.

Once the bathrooms come into view, it took you a second you to Brian hiding in the room across the bathroom, the door slightly ajar. 

The two of you finally reached the door of the bathroom as you wrapped your arms around the mans neck in a hug. As you felt one of John’s hands holding you back, the other fiddling with the door, your eyes met with Brians.

Brian got the hint and you soon saw the barrel of his gun poke out slightly through the gap of the door. A muffled shot rung out at the same your flames burst out your hands, burning the flesh of his neck. You felt John’s body slump against yours, his hands falling down to his sides. 

You grunt as you shove him off of you, rolling your eyes and smiling as you saw Brian pop his head out before he opened the door fully and stepping out.

“That was quick.”

“Wish it was quicker, he was irritating.” You hold the bathroom door open as Brian swiftly kicks John’s body into the bathroom. As soon as you two quickly clean up the area, the two of you find yourselves back into the alleyway, making your way to the quinjet.

“Anyways, what’re you thinking for a snack. Shawarma?” 

————♡————

You and Brian were approaching the door that lead to the living room, where FRIDAY told you Natasha was. You didn’t plan on texting Natasha about your arrival, deciding that it was better as a surprise. 

The two of you hushed each other once you were finally stood right in front of the living room door with Shawarma takeout in your hold. But a precious sight graced itself the moment you both opened it. 

Another presence FRIDAY forgot to mention was Bruce. Your shoulders slump slightly as your arms tense at your sides. From the corner of your eye, you could see Brian’s jaw tightly clenched.

Brian was very fond of Bruce Banner, he really had it out for the scientist, even if Bruce wasn’t aware of that fact. During one apparently small mission, Bruce happened to be in the same place as Brian.

And you could practically guess what happened, Bruce turned green. You don’t know what the hell pissed him off but you didn’t give a shit. Hulk was destroying building after building in a tantrum, soon enough he reached the streets where Brian, you, and the rest of your friends were. 

Like expected, he demolished your cars, he was honestly so lucky he didn’t hurt your friends or you would have honestly blasted his brains out. But that wouldn’t change the fact that every single one of your cars were crushed, nothing to preserve.

To this very day, Brian still has a terrible grudge against Bruce, and you understood. Because not only did those cars that he crushed help you get money, they costed a crap ton to even own.

But this sight of him perched on the couch with Natasha was not pretty, at all. What made the scene even uglier was what you noticed to be Natasha’s hand on his chest, leaning her whole body into his side, practically cuddling into him.

You didn’t notice your flames flaring up the length of your arms before you felt Brian nudge you, the action making you glance at him. He sent you a subtle shake of his head, mouthing the words “It’s not worth it.”

As your eyes were trained on Brian, you heard a familiar giggle echo throughout the room, the both of your heads snapping to the origin of the sound. 

Natasha’s other arm was now wrapped around his neck, the both of her arms now encasing Bruce in a hug. Your eyes trail down towards her phone, next to the arm of the couch, discarded. From your place at the door, you could see your last message on her lock screen. 

That’s why she didn’t reply to your message. Damn. She could have at least read it, or hearted it. Your heart ached, yearning for comfort, comfort from the person that was sat a few feet from you.

Your eyes glance towards Brian once more, his eyes now hardened, before he nods to you, giving you the affirmative. 

Taking quiet steps behind the couch, you were now stood behind the two cuddled individuals. Your eyes gleaming a dangerous gold as the veins in your forearm shone a deep red, sparks threatening to blow.

“Uht. Uht. What the fuck is this?”Your eyes narrowing as the two individuals before you jumped from their place, scrambling away from each other once they saw the golden hue within your eyes.

“It’s not what it looks like, milaya.” Natasha struggled to get up as her knees buckled from beneath her, before she shot up, rounding the couch with her arms outstretched to you.

“Cut the bullshit, I’m not dumb. Cuddled up with Banner while you couldn’t even think to text me back?” You hissed, the glow in your eyes intensifying as you can hear the springs of the couch springing back into place as Bruce attempted to stand up.

From your peripheral, you could see Brian unholstering his gun from his waistband, immediately holding the barrel to Bruce’s forehead in warning.

“Everybody else was called on a mission, we were just passing time until you got back.” She pleaded as her hands reached out to cup your face, to which you immediately recoil and drop the takeout.

“You’re funny. You call that passing time? Might as well fuck if you were just “passing time.” You laughed as you leaned back on your heels, your face hardening once more, arms crossing over your figure. An attempt to cover up the fact that tears were slightly welling up in your eyes.

“Listen, I’m not up to hearing your excuses, especially when I just got back from a mission. Just...” You sigh, your knuckles popping as your hands formed into tight fists, crescent moon shaped marks taking shape on your palm with how tight your grip was.

“Just..Make up your damn mind, alright? Come back to me when you do.” You take a deep breath, the glow in your veins dispersing once you composed yourself.

“But I choose you! Y/n, it’s you..” She pleaded once more, her voice hushing into a whisper as she takes in the reality of the situation.

“So all we’re doing is just telling jokes today, huh? If it really was me, then you’d still be waiting for the movie night, and not be on the couch with Slimer from fucking Ghostbusters.”

“I promise you-“ “Don’t. You wanna tell jokes? I got one for you. How about…Hm.. That green booger almost fucking ruined my career that me and Brian spent so long trying to build. How’s that for a joke?”

Your nose crinkles as your hands stretches out to point towards Bruce. Sighing, you run a hand down your face, rolling your eyes in annoyance. You take one last deep breath as you straighten yourself up.

“I want you to really think this through.” You deadpan, before your gaze meets Brians, your eyes giving him the memo that this altercation was done as he holsters his gun.

The two of you slowly walk back to the door where you walked in from, you looked behind your shoulder once more, analyzing the room before it slowly meets Natasha’s.

Natasha held a pleading look as tears welled up in the corner of her eyes, her nose beginning to turn a light shade of pink. The sight made you turn your head away from her, you could practically feel the intensifying cracks in your heart. 

Once the door finally shut behind the two of you, the silence rattled Natasha, her shoulders shaking in quiet sobs. The tears falling down her cheeks as she cried, unsure whether it was stress or the loss of you.

♡ 

You don’t know how either of you found yourselves here, it was a closed off track near the ocean, and somehow the two of you thought it was perfect to race against each other.

At first you brushed off the idea, deeming it stupid at a time lime this. But the more you thought about it, you loved night races, the view was always beautiful. 

Soon enough, you gave in to Brian, shuffling the keys out of your pocket as you both head to the garage with your treasured cars. You ended up picking a random car, it wasn’t too shabby. 

It was a car that Suki gifted to you, you happened to be good friends with her alongside Brian. To be frank, you forgot all the context to why she gave you the car.

The car was cute though, it was your favorite color, the interior of the car had LEDS you assumed and it also lit up your favorite color. You wondered why you never used this car more often.

Once you notice that Brian finally picked out his car, the two of you drove to the start of the track, smirks played on your faces.

“Don’t get dusted, bullet”

“Now you know damn well.”

The two of you laugh before you rev your engines, your eyes locking onto the track ahead of you as you leaned back into your chair slightly.

1.

2.

…3

And you two were off, you both drifted your way through the track. Taking a quick glance to your left, you see Brian with a cocky smirk on his face, the sight making you roll your eyes before you floor it.

The distance between you and Brian starts to increase little by little. Once you start to approach the corner, you drift into it, effectively dusting Brian as your view of him disappears, smoke filling the air and blocking it .

Quicker than you expected, the two of you were approaching the end of the track, and stood there was a figure not too far from the track. The minute you got closer, the striking red hair was the first thing your eyes saw.

You immediately brake once you reached the end, slouching in your seat slightly as you waited for Brian to catch up, which didn’t take long. Stepping out the car, your nose slightly scrunches up at the smell of smoke but you shake it off.

You met Brian half way and shook his hand, his eyes holding a playful look as he shoves you lightly, you roll your eyes at his action.

“Warned you about being dusted, gotta deal with the repercussions.” 

“You cheated.”

“Cheated where?”

The both of you close your mouths at the sound of someone clearing their throat. Taking a deep breath, you turn your body to face Natasha, a confused expression plastered on your face as she stood there with her arms crossed.

“Can I talk to Y/n? Alone?” She gestured towards Brian, making him turn his head to look towards you with a concerned look. To which you nod with a soft smile gracing your lips. 

“Wait in the car, I’ll meet you there, bullet.” Brian hesitated for a moment before patting your shoulder, walking off in the direction of his car. 

Once he was out of earshot, your gaze falls onto her, a questioning look in your eyes as you mimic her movements by crossing your arms.

“Okay look. Y/n, I’m sorry. I..” She lets out a deep sigh, her hands rubbing over her biceps in a form of comfort as she musters the words to speak.

“I wasn’t sober. I was in the kitchen at first, had a glass of wine, but then he came and conjured a conversation while slowly urging me to drink more.” The words practically left you shellshocked, but you knew better than to believe so quickly.

“That’s when we ended up on the couch, originally there was space between us, but he pulled me towards him.” 

“But that doesn’t explain why you didn’t pull away, you stayed like that until I walked in and said something.”

“Because I wasn’t sober! Y/n. You’ve seen me reject him so many fucking times so why can’t you believe me on this?” 

“Because it’s so easy to lie with words, Natasha. But actions never lie, they never do.” 

“I promise you, detka. I’m not lying. He made moves onto me while I was drunk. Please believe me.” She practically begged as she stepped closer and closer to you until she was directly in front of you.

“It’s so hard to believe you, Natasha.. You never answered my text, hell your phone was across the damn couch. You were giggling at every single word that he said.” 

“I-.” “See that’s my point, Nat.”

“Baby, he took my phone.” 

“We playin jokes again?” Your eyebrows furrow as your eyes narrow at Natasha, either it was true or it’s some wack ass excuse.

“No! No. Babe. I promise. It was at the table. I was gonna text you after my first glass of wine but he snatched it, threw it to god knows where. That’s why I had no choice but to talk to him.”

You sigh, shutting your eyes as you raised your hand to run through your hair while you were deep in thought, your eyes flickering beneath your eyelids. There was a few minutes of silence between you two as you pondered.

Your eyes shoot open as you slowly check the time on your phone, it was midnight. You zone out for a minute before blinking back into reality, your eyes shifting towards Natasha’s pleading ones.

“I believe you. We’ll talk more about it tomorrow once we’re rested, but you’ve got a lot of making up to do.” Your voice drops to a soft yet stern tone, trying to soothe Natasha before she actually cried. 

“Thank you, malyshka. I love you.” She mumbles before pulling you into a tight hug, wrapping her arms around your shoulders. You froze for a moment, not sure if you should forgive her that fast. 

But you gave in, your arms wrapping around her midsection as they gently rubbed her spine. You were going to have a long talk with Bruce before you could forgive Natasha, but it was best to at least assure her that you don’t hate her.

“I love you too, baby.” You mumble into her hair. Bruce was definitely going to hear from you, maybe you might let Brian get some words in. You weren’t sure. That was all a plan for tomorrow.

[mylittlesecrethaven]

Twst Kinks And Shit They Like To Do During Sex: Diasomnia

Last for the NRC students.

Let's see how this goes.

Malleus:

Breeding kink. It's a fae thing. Can't help it. Well, he kinda can. But he doesn't really want to with you. (Unless you don't want kids. He can contain it if you want. He's not a monster.)

Needs your hands on his horns. Pull on them. Grip them as hard you can. He wants to feel it at the base of his horns. If he can't, you aren't gripping or pulling hard enough. (I've seen so much stuff where his horns are sensitive, but I really believe they aren't and need a shit ton of force for him to feel anything.)

Lilia:

Brat-taming kink. He's dealt with kids. He adores it when they act all bratty. And if you're doing it during sex? You've definitely got his attention. (that makes it sound like he gets off on kids being bratty. That is not what I'm saying at all)

Pfft- sorry. Can't help this. But he loves fucking you upside-down. Likes seeing the blood rush to your head as he plows into you, then once you're about to pass out, he flips you right-side-up and continues. Trust me, whenever you do this during sex, your orgasms are like 10x better. (don't actually try this. please. idk if that actually works.)

Silver:

I was gonna say somnophilia, but nah. I don't see Silver doing that. Kinda. (I'll explain below) I think he's more into sensory deprivation. Doesn't matter who it's for, it turns him on either way.

So.... Silver probably falls asleep during sex. However, his body's kinda weird and will continue fucking you while he's asleep. It's the weirdest fucking experience, but he always wakes up when either one of you cums. (he doesn't pass out all the time, just sometimes)

Sebek:

That electro-shock sex thing. Nothing dangerous, just keeps one of those electro-shock thingies (fuck, what are they called?) in his drawer (hidden of course) for whenever he's in the mood. It doesn't really work on him, so you can't get back at him for it. But he does love feeling what your body does when he shocks you with it.

I'm not even gonna fucking joke about this, he will refer to you with a royal name. That doesn't really make sense. Ok, he'll be moaning out your name or whatever, then casually drop something like "my queen/king" or "my lord/lady" or something along those lines. You don't know why. He doesn't know why. It just happens sometimes.

Ok. I really liked Diasomnia's.

Ngl, I was about to put something where Sebek moans out Malleus's name, but that kinda freaked me out while I was thinking about it, so I switched gears.

Teachers and non-NRC students soon.

(I'm gonna fit a piss kink in here somewhere, I fucking swear)

[gortashs-skidmark]

ACT 1 Talking to Gandrel but you’re incredibly read on different species, including Vampires.

“I’m looking for a Vampire Spawn named Astarion” - G

“Damn. It’s not hard to spot a vampire, or their spawn. They’re typically pale cast and have red eyes, glossy nails, uncanny appearance, if he’s an elf perhaps his face is disfigured from Elven Vampirism, it’s typically not a pretty transformation.” - Tav

Astarion is fucking offended “oh really, you can spot a vampire at any time? I call bullshit” - A

“ i mean, they carry the same vulnerabilities as their master- and Cazador is a Master Vampire or Vampire Lord right? Just an A-typical kind of vampire blood type. He wouldn’t be able to walk in the sun, touch running water, no shadow or reflection. Hey- you know what? The Shadowfell hosts a shit ton of vampires, they’re undead so they’re unaffected. Maybe you should check there..?” - Tav

“My! You’re well read on these monsters! Perhaps if the hag falls through I’ll check there, but I’m not looking forward to hostile lands” - G

“-yes. The Shadowfell. Check there I’m sure he’s in a hurry!” - A

“-though- if Cazador is a Cerebral Vampire, he could walk in the sun. What do you think Asssss- AASIMAR.” - Tav

“I think it’s none of our business” - A

“…also they don’t need to breathe…”- Tav

He took a faux deep breathe to make his anxiety clear “Well let’s stop bothering the monster hunter, I’m sure he’s busy and we’ve got a pregnant woman to save” - A

“Okay. Damn. You’re pushy today” - Tav (Tav knows he’s vampire spawn, it was clear when they met)

Astarion was pissed off for the next week.

[love-fictional-ppl]

OH MY LORD PLEASE DO MORE ABOUT STONER BAKUSQUAD THAT WAS 'mwah' chefs kiss

xoxoxooxox thank you sm if you do xoxooxox

Omgg yesss I love stoner bakusquad. Tyy for the request loveeee

.·:*¨¨*:·. 𖣁 .·:*¨¨*:·.

Part 2 of this

༺♡︎༻

Summary: reader and quirkless au!Bakusquad are stoners

Pairings: platonic!katsuki bakugou x gn!bisexual!reader, platonic!Eijiro Kirishima x gn!bi!reader, platonic!pan!Denki Kaminari x gn!bi!reader, platonic!plug!hanta sero x gn!bi!reader, platonic!bi!mina ashido x gn!bi!reader, Eijiro Kirishima x bi!mina ashido, past!Hanta sero x bi!mina ashido, pan!Denki Kaminari x bi!plug!hitoshi Shinso

Warnings: language, Marijuana duh, vaping, alcohol, making out, shrooms, OF, masturbation, etc.

A/n: I was personally geeked writing part 1, so I forgot to actually include the vaping part lol. If you don’t know who Harold and kumar are, watch the movies.

༺♡︎༻

Ok so to start off, Sero’s day/night Job is deejaying. He’s actually really good at it. A lot of people would think this job would go to Denki but nope.

Speaking of Denki, he actually is a streamer. He reacts to people’s videos and plays horror games. He plays a lot of Roblox too.

Bakugou likes Sam & Colby. He’s liked them since trap boys. Honestly his favorite trap boy is Corey tho.

When Mina drinks she gets the spins really bad and throws up. Every single time. Without hesitation.

Denki cries sometimes when he’s drunk.

Kirishima greened out at the first smoke sesh.

Mina is seriously super horny when she messed up. She even convinced bakugou to make out with her while he was super stoned

Denki started vaping when you guys were in sophomore year, he eventually put u all on.

Bakugou had to bail Sero out of jail once, Sero was pulled over while he was making a delivery

Mina makes Kirishima take her to concerts, he trip sits her while she takes shrooms

Sero likes to watch cartoon network and adult swim when he’s stoned

Eventually, Shinso and Denki get together. You all excepted Shinso practically immediately, and invited him to the smoke seshs

Mina buys pink joint papers. The guys hate when she rolls up with them, except for Denki he loves them<3

Mina has an only fans. She isn’t embarrassed by it either. Denki has also watched her videos while jerking off

During smoke sesh’s you guys like to watch South Park. Sero likes to laugh and compare bakugou to cartman.

Sero has a unhealthy amount of bongs

Kirishima is the designated driver for after the hangouts. Whoever doesn’t just sleepover, he gives a ride.

Kirishima always makes a crap ton of snack when him and Mina host. Mina doesn’t like hosting tho.

Depending on how high bakugou is, he will let you play with his hair. It’s actually so soft.

Denki and Sero almost got kidnapped by Sero’s plug one time. It was Denki’s fault, he tried to still the guy’s knife.

Sero loves Shinso’s cat especially when he’s stoned he says he’s the group scooby doo. Shinso is forced to bring muffins(the cat) every time

Shinso also sells weed so Sero claims they’re competitors

Denki is so girly with his vapes it’s funny. Like this boy will kill for a minty Hyde. He also always has to tear apart his bed just to find the shit.

I think everybody agree and say bakugou and kirishima drink whiskey. Grown ahh ahh men💀

Bakugou literally will catnap when he is baked. He likes to sleep with his head on your thighs

Kirishima always brings blunt wraps since you and Denki always forgets to buy them. Baby boy kiri is a angel🥹😇

Reach in Sero’s couch cushions and you will find a kingdom of lighters

Denki says him and Sero are Harold And Kumar. Denki and you love those movies.

Sero’s kitchen is stocked on all your favorite foods and drinks.

༺♡︎༻

Not Proofread!

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

How about the bishops with a reader that has a ton of different scars? Some they tell stories about, about some they grumble and laugh, and when asked about some they avert their gaze while chuckling and change the subject?

Leshy

He can't really see the scars, but you allow him to feel them and trace his fingers over each one.

Of course, you'll be guiding his hand the entire time should he ask you to, sharing stories about them all the while.

Your tales vary from fights, attacks by Darkwood creatures, clumsy accidents, and a few near-death scenarios you barely got away from....all of which have happened on several missionaries you've undertaken in his name.

There are a few you'd rather not speak of for various reasons.

Including a nasty gash on your cheek that you got from one of the Lamb's attacks, not wanting him to know you failed to kill them.

Leshy 100% understands if you're uncomfortable with talking about specific ones.

He hates it when people ask about his eyes, so he gets it.

It's no different after you both end up in Lamb's cult, although it's easier for him to feel your scars and be closer to you.

If he overhears anybody talking shit about them, he's gonna throw hands (and by that, I mean he'll bite them).

Kallamar

Seeing one of his finest warriors marred with so many scars makes him proud..and yet worried at the same time.

Infection was certainly a risk, so he'll heal any ones that appear new should he deem it necessary.

Although he doesn't ask many questions about where they came from, he does like to remind you that his blessings are a privilege, thus he won't always do this for you every time you get injured.

It's his subtle way of saying "please take care of yourself" without saying it outright.

Never really hears the stories you tell to your fellow followers (not because he doesn't care...he's just deaf af).

But after you both arrive to Lamb's cult, he asks you about them and you explain where you got most of them from.

The coolest ones--at least in your opinion anyways--are the bites from wrestling rogue sharks, barracudas, etc. for food.

Kallamar is both amazed and slightly more terrified of you now.

He sometimes feels bad that he can't heal you up if you get a new scar, but you reassure him Lamb's been keeping you in good health.

Shamura

As a proud warrior of Silk Cradle (and one of Shamura's personal bodyguards), you had the scars to show your fighting experience.

Everything from bug bites to claw marks to flames--you had a lot of stories to share and did so willingly.

Especially to Shamura, although they tend to forget at times...

They even sometimes believe you had more scars than you did yesterday, asking if the one on your arm is new.

Or they may just stare...and you immediately see the concern in your lord's eyes.

But you gently remind them that it's been there for weeks.

It's no different after they arrive in Lamb's cult, with you following suit.

They forgot about every scar you had, and honestly looked a little scared when you approached them and they saw them all over your body.

Once they calm down, though, and get more settled into the cult, you'll reshare stories of your scars (or at least ones you're comfortable sharing), answering whatever questions they may have.

If they ever ask about one that's a particularly painful memory, you'll just subtly change the subject, insisting they rest their head.

Heket

She overheard her cultists listening to your stories about your scars during a feast, and she can't help but eavesdrop.

"And this one? From trying to help the Mushroomos carry a box of menticide mushrooms....it was a splinter." You shake your head as the people beside you laugh. "Embarrassing, I know."

While Heket never says anything outright about your scars, she's impressed that you're proud to wear them.

The one thing she doesn't know is that you've gotten into a fight with the Lamb themselves and miraculously survived.

However the resulting scar(s) weren't too pretty..and you weren't too proud of them, either.

So you tended to them in private, keeping them a secret as you didn't want her finding out you failed to kill that little sheep.

Only after you and her arrive to Lamb's cult do you finally tell her all about them, knowing she can't really retaliate now.

You decide to show her the scar(s)...

And to your surprise she's still able to eat her lunch while staring at them, intrigued.

She did always think you were a great fighter.

[astarionancuntnin]

Die For You (Chapter 3)

summary: after your first meal in days, you realise astarion might not be all bad like you originally thought. when he offers you more comfort, you start to question his intentions, and yourself.

rating: T

word count: 3.8k

pairing: astarion x you (fem!reader, implied fighter/noble!tav)

cw: a shit ton of tension

a/n: thank you to everyone who voted on both the tumblr poll and the comment section on ao3 of the previous chapter! This gave me a better idea of where to take this. I'm already almost done working on the next two chapters!

Masterlist

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or keep reading down below~

You don't love me like you think you do You don't know I'm just as bad as you

When you awaken the next morning, the first thing you feel is the ache in your muscles. It had been forever since you were able to sleep soundly, and your body made sure to remind you every time you tried to move a muscle. You were thankful for the soft bed and you didn’t want to leave it, but the smell of your dirty clothes brought you to your senses; you were long overdue for a change of clothes.

You struggle to get up, but you painfully manage to rest up on your elbows, scanning the room surrounding you. You didn’t want to stay in your putrid clothes, but everything you owned was still neatly packed in the room you rented at the local inn. With a boost of determination, you finally get on your feet to explore the large room. That’s when you notice another door and you open it to discover your very own bathroom. After spending days rotting away in a cell wearing the same clothes, you admit that a bath sounds delightful.

You briefly remember the spawn from the night prior and shout an uncertain ‘Hello?’ that is quickly followed by her opening the door to your room and stepping in, awaiting your next command. She was so quick to answer that you wondered how long she had been standing outside your room.

“Can you run me a bath? Please?”

“Of course, would you like Lord Ancunín to join you?”

“What?!” You’re completely taken aback by the suggestion. “No absolutely not, I would like to be alone.” The audacity. As if you wanted to endure his presence any longer than necessary.

“As you wish, my lady,” the spawn says, as she gets your bath ready for you. Once done, she bows to you and leaves you alone.

You remove your dirty clothes, carelessly tossing them aside. Taking a good look at them, you don’t even think there would be a point to washing them; your last few days had been rough on you and them, you realise, with the stitching coming apart at a few places. You step into the lukewarm water and close your eyes as you let yourself sink, your breath leaving your lungs progressively until you’re laying flush with your head against the edge of the bath. Your body completely submerged in the water creates the feeling of a warm blanket comforting you, and you let yourself melt in its embrace. When you take your next breath, you’re hit with Astarion’s signature smell; the strong notes of bergamot and rosemary invade your nostrils and suddenly, he’s polluting your thoughts.

You’re taken back to a simpler time, nights when he was still vulnerable and you would let him feed on you, where he would get lost in your neck, and you would get lost in the feeling of his mouth against your skin. Your mind wanders further, as you remember the nights you got even closer; the touch of his cold but delicate hands over your warm skin, his delicate attention after drinking from you, each kiss a silent thank you and I'm sorry. For him, you would’ve done it every night without a second thought, until the end of your life.

You don’t realise that your thighs have been rubbing against each other, trying to chase relief from the memories you imposed on yourself; memories of his tongue, his hands, his lustful praises, his otherworldly adoration of you. You lose track of time, and a knock on the door brings you out of your reverie abruptly.

“Breakfast is served, my lady.” You hear through the door. “You’re invited to join, whenever you’re ready.”

You cast aside the daydream you had lost yourself in, unsure if your flushed cheeks were caused by the initial warmth of the bath or your memories of the past, and begrudgingly get out of the water, quickly grabbing a nearby towel to cover up. You walk back into your room where you find a beautiful, dark blue dress with a plunging collar, and black lace all around it and the wrists, laid out for you on your bed. You inspect it some more, noticing the embedded dark brown leather belt at the waist, before slipping into it to realise it's a perfect fit. Of course. This can’t be a coincidence, you think. This wasn’t just some dress he bought, this was made specifically for you. The thought annoys you immensely, but you put the feeling aside for now, walking out of your room at last to follow the spawn to the familiar dining room. Astarion is there as usual, but this morning he seems less tense than before. Happy, even.

“Good morning, my sweet. I hope you slept well.” He smiles as he eyes you up and down, admiring how nice this dress shapes your form.

“I did,” you pause momentarily, reflecting on whether you should let the next words come out. You don’t know why you're struggling so much to utter them, when it was so easy to let it slip the previous day. You take a deep breath and finally speak up. “Thank you.”

He leans back in his chair, pleased. “So, I take it you’ve been enjoying your new commodities?”

“I have, I suppose–” One spawn pulls out your usual chair for you and you pause before sitting down, the act leaving you more and more confused. “...I’m just wondering why you would offer me a room.”

“So you could sleep comfortably after your first meal in days, obviously.”

“But why now? Why not throw me back into that cell I’ve been in for the last, what, tenday?”

“That would simply be rude. Your room was ready, it's only fair you get to sleep in it now.”

You take a moment to process the words. “My room?”

“Of course, darling. I doubt you'd want to share a room with me so soon, as much as I would love to,” He gives you a salacious look, one that you recognize from your time spent together in the past. You feel your cheeks grow warm from his gaze. “Until then, you get your own space.”

As you reflect on his answer, your eyes wander over your plate and the rest of the delicacies placed on the long table, and it sparks more questions out of you, although unrelated. “Why do you always have so much food made? Even if I ate, I would never eat this much.”

“This way you can choose whatever you prefer. Isn't it nice to have the luxury of choice?”

You’re taken aback by his generosity. It was such a contrast to the treatment he imposed on you these last few days, you’re not sure what to make of it. Was he genuinely being good or was this some sort of twisted trap? “The food, and now the room, and this,” you gesture towards the dress, “What are you trying to prove?”

“Nothing wicked, I assure you, my dear. I’m just trying to show you how…. Beneficial it is, when you cooperate.”

You lay back in your chair, crossing your arms “And just why would I want to cooperate? Are you going to torture me if I don’t?”

“Depends if your definition of torture includes galas, parties, and soirees among the high society.”

“I’m sorry– what?”

He stands up to walk towards you. “You’ll see soon enough.”

“Even if I did, I hardly have anything to wear, I doubt I–”

“Nonsense.” He cuts you off. “I already have the perfect dress in mind for you.”

“Another one? What about my clothes? And all my stuff back at the inn?”

“Oh darling, you can leave those rags, I could have a whole wardrobe ordered just for you.” He sits on the edge of the table, right next to you.

“This is… a lot. I– I don’t know what to say.”

“You can start with a ‘thank you’. And as for the rest, well, we can work out the details later.”

Your clothes were pretty bland, they looked like nothing exceptional given they served you on your continuous adventures; they were meant to be dirtied. You would probably indulge in the offer if it had been about anyone else, but you still felt as if there was an unspoken condition you were agreeing upon if you were to accept these gifts, and you didn’t want to just go in blindly.

“I still have my personal belongings left over there, though.” You say, with a cheeky tone, crossing your arms over your chest. “Can’t replace those.”

He groans, “Alright, if you insist, go get them.”

“...What do you mean? Just... go?”

He laughs. “My sweet, the doors have always been unlocked, you're free to come and go as you wish. I would love for you to stay so that I could pamper you all day and night as you deserve, but I know better than to stop you.”

“Oh.”

“Unless you want me to arrange for one of my servants to fetch them for you?”

“No! No, I– uh, I would rather take care of that myself.”

“In that case, I will let you get to it. The doors will still be unlocked when you come back.” He watches as you stay motionless, your eyes going back and forth, clearly confused by this exchange. His hand reaches to lift your chin to face him. “No traps, I promise. Cross my heart and hope to… well, you get it.”

He stands to leave and you get up abruptly, “Wait!” he stops in his tracks, looking back at you, “What about those galas and parties you were talking about?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, little love.” He smiles. “Now go on, I would greatly appreciate it if you were back in time for lunch.”

He leaves you to attend to his daily routine and it takes you a few seconds to get up as well and exit the room, without even taking a bite of your breakfast; you couldn’t eat even if you wanted to after this discussion. As you make distance from the dining room, your cadence accelerates and you’re almost running towards the entrance door. You cross paths with many of his spawns, most – you notice – were humans and tieflings, including the one who had been taking care of walking you to your cell and, most recently, your room. They watch as you haste towards the exit without reacting much and this only adds to your state of confusion. When you finally cross the doors, you flinch at the brightness of the sun; the crimson palace was rather dark from the inside, and aside from the large window in your room, you had barely had exposure to the outside world since you’d been retained. As your eyes finally adjust to the light, you finally head for the inn.

You’re startled by the realisation that, now that you’re out of his palace, you’re consciously making the choice to go get your things to move them in instead of staying at the inn, or even running away. It’s the smart choice, you think. The inn keeps charging me for each day that passes, Astarion lends me a room free of charge. I would be a fool not to take him up on that offer.

But why didn’t you just leave, then? You could just pack your things and go far away from this place. What stopped you?

Once at the inn, you take the time to gather your things; you realise you really didn’t have much. Truth be told, you maybe had three changes of clothes and barely any other belongings. Back at the palace, you only mentioned your personal items for the sole purpose of arguing with Astarion, not really expecting this turn of events. You throw your bag over your shoulder and make a last stop to pay the innkeeper, only to be told that your room had been paid for already. You assume it’s another move from the vampire, but when you ask about it, the tiefling employee mentions it was a “white-haired, half-elf woman that looked quite worried – or pissed”, he wasn’t able to tell the difference, “who left in a hurry after paying.”

Shadowheart.

You can’t believe you had forgotten about her, and the plans you had made to leave with her days ago.

You thank the innkeeper and walk back to the crimson palace, thinking about what you could possibly do to own up to her. She must’ve already been long gone by now, she only mentioned staying in town for a few more days before you got taken away by Astarion’s minions. Did she think you had abandoned her? No, she must’ve known something had happened to you if she paid for your tab. Was she out looking for you, then? Where would she even be now?

Once back at the palace, you immediately try to find a pen and some paper to write her a letter. She deserved to know you were safe, and if ever your paths were to cross again, you did owe her for the bill she covered. It’s the least you could do. You sit down at your vanity and do your best to share your feelings on paper.

Shadowheart,

I want to preface this by saying that I’m sorry I didn’t reach out before. Things got carried away and I had a lot on my mind. I am safe, and still in town if you want to reach out. A lot has happened since we last saw each other, and I think you deserve an explanation. If you want to talk and know more about it, you can find me at the crimson palace. I’m sure this already gives you an idea of how things are going. And thank you for covering the bill at the inn, I’ll pay you back once I see you again, hopefully over another bottle of wine.

I’m sorry, and I hope to hear from you soon,

Your friend.

You seal the letter and write down her name on the envelope before asking the nearest servant to mail it as soon as possible. There can’t be another Shadowheart in Baldur’s Gate, surely the letter will reach her, you think.

Until she receives your letter, you figure you should stay at the palace, so she knows where to find you.

Another day passes and you still have no news from your cleric friend. The days grow long when you have nothing to do but wait in your room. Patience was never your forte, and the more you walk restlessly around your room, the more you feel yourself going insane. You decide to get out and walk around the palace; although you had spent countless days here, you realise you never went out of your way to explore it.

You're not sure you wanna get anywhere near the dungeons; none of your experiences with them have been pleasant, and from the time you recall spending in them, they didn't seem to contain anything interesting. For now, walking in the hallways would do. You notice how all the paintings were different from the first time you visited. Instead of people, it was landscapes. You don't recognize the places, but they felt peaceful: lots of greenery, small villages, valleys filled with wildflowers. And of course, at least one portrait of Lord Astarion Ancunín himself. You remember back when he ascended, the first time he saw his reflection after 200 years. Had it not been for the fact he had sacrificed 7007 souls to make it happen, you would've been happy for him.

You should be happy for him, you think.

You don't get to linger too long on the feeling when you hear laughter from a nearby room. You walk close enough to be able to see what the commotion was about, and you're shocked to discover the source of the laughter belonged to Astarion’s spawns, his children. You seem to have found their shared room, and unlike what you remember of his siblings, these spawns seemed genuinely happy. While some were playing cards, others seemed to be gossiping while doing each other's hair. You recognize the spawn that has been taking care of you, and for the first time, you take the time to really look at her. She seems very young, she couldn't be older than 20 when she turned. Visibly, she's human, you don't think she could be mixed either. She has long, curvy dark brown hair that she visibly takes care of, as it is shiny and luscious. She’s laughing with the tiefling who’s hair she is braiding. These spawns, as opposed to what you recall from Astarion's experience, got along like real siblings.

You don't want to intrude on their privacy any longer, so you step away from the door only to bump into something.

“Sneaking around I see?”

Or someone. “Fucking Hells, are you trying to kill me?!”

“I wouldn’t mind indulging in a little death, so to speak.”

You groan, “Okay well, next time, try to announce yourself instead of waiting for me to bump into you?”

“Now, where's the fun in that?” He looks up to see what you were previously spying on. “I see you've found my children's room. I do intend on making it bigger as I recruit more of them, but for now, this’ll do nicely.” He looks back at you, “What about you? Has my little pet decided to stick around?”

You roll your eyes at the pet name. “I haven’t. This is… temporary, until I find a better place. And I’m not your pet.”

“Whatever you say, dearest.” He didn’t seem to believe you.

“I’m serious. I don’t–” His smirk makes you stop mid-sentence. He’s toying with me. Asshole. I can play that game too. “I'm only staying until I hear from Shadowheart, then I’m leaving, with her.”

“The cleric, huh? I can only assume this night you spent with her must’ve been… enlightening.”

“You have no idea,” you sneer.

“Tell me, was it anything like our nights together?” You open your mouth, ready to give him a snarky answer, but he continues before you can, moving in on you. “Did you get lost in her touch? Did her words soothe your wounds?” Your voice gets stuck in your throat and you gasp when you hit the wall you backed up against, as he leans an arm against it while lifting your chin up, his lips nearing yours. “Did her tongue dance on your skin like mine did? Did she make you scream at the heavens?” He leans to the side of your head, his voice but a whisper next to your ear and his warm breath sends a shiver down your spine. “But what I want to know more is, did you think of me as she did it all?”

Any thoughts of answering anything at all flies out the window. Your dress barely contains your chest as it rises with each breath you take. He pulls back slightly to look at you with half-lidded eyes and your stressful blinking keeps switching between his eyes and his mouth. There is a part of you that wants nothing but to close this gap between the two of you, make him lose that stupid smile he wore constantly. This irritating… enchanting smile…

Before you can let any impulsive thoughts get the best of you, he steps back, breaking this unbearable proximity.

“Come, I want to show you something.” He walks away from you without looking back, as if he knew you would follow. And gods dammit, you do.

You’re silent as you walk behind him, working on getting your breathing back to normal, when you end up in the courtyard. It's modest, but is surrounded by a great variety of flowers, which sparks your curiosity.

“I didn’t take you for a flower enthusiast.”

“I used not to like them, they're gaudy and almost never make a good poison, but I found out some have other uses.”

“What good could they be to you if not as a weapon?”

“Aside from the fact that they can be used to cover the scent of death? Let me see,” He walks around the garden, pointing out each type of flower as he mentions them. “Lavender, for one, is a natural relaxant. Yellow marigolds are believed to improve someone’s mood with their mere presence.” He carefully picks out a flower before approaching you once more. He strokes your cheek carefully pushing your hair aside, before resting the white flower over your ear. “Jasmine, among other things, can even be used as an aphrodisiac.”

Your voice softens following his sweet gesture, “I still don't see how these can be helpful to you.”

“Sometimes, a little persuasion is more effective than any poison, my dear.”

“Has this ever worked out in your favour?” You recall Astarion being a man of action, not reflection; you have a hard time imagining him dabbling in flower concoctions.

“Do I not have you? After everything, that should speak for itself.”

You sigh, “You don’t. I'm not yours, and I'll never be." You pull back and turn away to hide your expression. You always stood by this truth ever since you’ve been back, but speaking them aloud this time hurt you. It was the first time you wished it wasn’t true, a painful reminder of what you two had been through. "Those days are long gone.”

“They don't have to be.” His voice drops to a lower tone and you hear him approaching you, but you remain turned away, avoiding his gaze. “We have a chance to be together once more. Think of the power you could have if you were mine; the strength, the security. Everything would be so much easier if you were. You could stay forever beautiful, my eternal flower.”

Just when you were lost in thought, considering his words, you notice his hand at your side handing you an eccentric dark laced mask. This makes you turn your head around to question him.

“What's that?”

“Consider it as your formal invitation to Duke Stellar’s masked ball. Many important people will attend it, and I want you to accompany me.”

You stay silent; this must’ve been part of the parties he was talking about a few days earlier, but you didn’t expect it to happen so soon. Met with your lack of answer, he continues.

“The ball is in two days, that should give you plenty of time to think about your decision, but do take in consideration that your dress is already commissioned, it should be ready for the day of the event. Until then, I would suggest that you enjoy everything the palace has to offer. Feel free to revisit it; I made a few changes since I've claimed the place.”

He walks back inside, leaving you alone once again with your thoughts.

As much as you want to refuse, there's a part of you that's curious to see what this ball was about. It's not like you had anything left to lose, either. It could take off your mind from waiting on hearing from Shadowheart, too.

Plus, you missed wearing extravagant dresses, moreso ones especially made for you.

-

You don't know me like you think you do You don't own me, but I can't cut you loose

Thank you for reading! Comments, reblogs, and likes are very much appreciated <3

tag list (comment or message me if you want to be added!): @grimistheangerinmystares @silverfangmarks @roguishcat @nyx-knox

[lilacevans]

𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞'𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐲

happy vals day babies!!!!<333 here's how you'd spend valentines day with each of the men from pete's place! this is just short and sweet, a little gift for being inactive these past couple weeks!! am finally feeling a little better- just dealing with some wisdom tooth painnn. anywaaaaaay, enjoy besties<33 let me know your favourite! mwah!<3

✧.*ೃ⁀➷ pete's place | the intro | opening night | the playlist ༊*·˚

*this is an 18+ space. minors are not welcome here.

*this is a dark au. there are no happy endings here.

✧˚ · .ೃ⁀➷ 𝐚𝐫𝐢

✧.*ೃ ari plans a night under the stars. a complete surprise. led out blindfolded, mouth wide at the sight. ✧.*ೃ handmade fort, soft pillows and blankets. picnic and wine. portable speaker playing your favourite music. ✧.*ೃ of course you spend time between his thighs in return, he wants to make sure you're not able to speak the following day (mainly so you can't rat him out on what a romantic he is)

✧˚ · .ೃ⁀➷ 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬

✧.*ೃ holy hell. the brute can cook. like, really cook. candlelight dinner, and everything is personally made by curtis. paired wine, matching outfits, fairy lights and roaring fireplace. ✧.*ೃ while dinner is spent mainly in silence, it's one of those times you welcome it. it's comfy. he makes it comfy. footsy under the table, soft smiles and bashful laughter. ✧.*ೃ but don't worry. you'll soon remember of why you fear him. a little chase after dinner? how could you possibly? and that's exactly why you're told to run, and may the good lord help you when he does.

✧˚ · .ೃ⁀➷ 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞

✧.*ೃ sweet stevie would plan a little book/painting date. he'd decorate the manor library, pick out some of your favourite books. gets your favourite drinks, snacks, pastries, etc. ✧.*ೃ the night spent giggling away while you read your book aloud while steve sketches/paints you, until you end up watching a sappy movie while cuddled on a fuzzy rug, snug under a blanket. ✧.*ೃ hands roam, finding their way under clothes. soft kisses turn into burning need.

✧˚ · .ೃ⁀➷ 𝐣𝐚𝐤𝐞

✧.*ೃ rock music, beer, pjs and games! it's a night filled of mario kart, mortal kombat, etc. knocking each others controllers, hurling insults and giggling like children. ✧.*ೃ pillow fights, play fighting that leads to you pinned on the couch, shrieking and laughing as jake tickles your sides, goading you to go back at him. ✧.*ೃ of course this leads to some fucking right there on the couch, jakes filthy mouth, your obscene moans mixed with the loading screen of a game and the music.

✧˚ · .ೃ⁀➷ 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞

✧.*ೃ in his sick little head, i think the man believes he's doing a nice thing by buying you a shit-ton of lingerie and asking you to model it for him while he gawks at you like an utter perv. damn the fact he's got a nice dick and knows how you use it bc damn it you're modelling your ass off to get it. ✧.*ೃ of course he wants a lapdance while you tell him what a perfect man he is, how grateful you are, how much you need him. ✧.*ೃ it's only when you're bouncing on his cock that he's spilling on the fact all he thinks and breathes is you. how lucky he is to have you, how much he adores you. kinda sad he'll deny it if you were to ask him about it the next day.

✧˚ · .ೃ⁀➷ 𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐝

✧.*ೃ if you thought you would be doing anything else other than knelt at this man's feet then you are a damn fool and you deserve it tbh. let's not pretend that's a bad way to spend vals day, anyway. ✧.*ೃ however, you're getting alllllll the pet names and praise. he's strangely lovey. more handsy, hits a little softer, sounds a little sweeter. biggest shock is when he thanks you for all the depravity you allow him to inflict on you. ✧.*ೃ you're helped in the shower, dressed comfy for bed and cuddled in his arms after a longgggggg session. it's nice.

[envy-of-the-apple]

That what if when ms. moon already has a family but has to leave because of him is so HEARTBREAKING. Imagine moving on from a tramatic situation, meeting the love of your life, having a wonderful kid for all that to just get squashed in a instant. That literally had me about to tear up but imagine her kid was a bit older lets say like 10 (i know the math doesnt add up well with the timeline but its a what if)and then she just has to leave, that alone would greatly negatively impact the kid, just leaving a lasting mark. Maybe the kid would remember gojo’s face and resent him for the rest of their life.

The husband thing is equally as sad because I imagine ms.moon as shes about to leave crying and whispering how much she loves him and that shes so sorry. (Bonus heartbreak points they all breakdown as shes about to leave and she cant even hug or kiss them goodbye because shes being watched). After this incident ms.moon’s pervious family completes spiral down the drain and moon’s mental state goes down the drain with it

In conclusion amazing story but that shit was sad as fuck but I still eat it up with silverware and all

(merging multiple SEM asks cuz i feel so guilty for clogging up ppls dashes lmao)

ughhhh anytime kids are involved it just gets way more depressing, right? It think age 8-10 is like the worst time for this to this to happen because the kid can understand little, but not enough to get the whole picture.

The kid knows that their mom is leaving, but they aren't seeing the wavering tears in Ms.moon's eyes, the shaky hands, as you hug them for the last time. All that they can see is the fancy new car your new lover sits in. The grand ring that sits on your finger. Yeah, your kid will hate gojo for ripping apart your family.

But they'll hate you more, considering you're running off with a man who has more money than their father.

I think the only upside is that gojo might not bat an eye if you send money back to your family, keeping them comfortable. With enough pleading, he might pull a few string to get your kid into a good school. With your indirect help, your kid will have the best education and prosperity. Them resenting you is a pretty small price to pay, right?

in the fic, the case took about three weeks, so it took three weeks for gojo to just snap.

He would definetly try to toy with ms.moon for as long as he can. Despite claiming that he forgave ms.moon, he does carry a tiny bit of resentment. It's kind of a punishment, in that sense.

And honestly the moment he figures out you who are, I doubt you'd have a chance to run anymore. The reason why Ms.moon was able to 'get away' the first time was because gojo was still a teenager, hier of the gojo conglomerate, but still not powerful yet. Now, he has tons of resources available for him. You're not getting away lmao, I think that's why he's so much at ease this time around.

I never really considered the family's response. their reactions is something I'm not really interested in exploring. i don't think they got any characterization other than 'housewife mom' and 'dad who works'. I don't really think ms.moon would even mention gojo's torment to them. It'd be embarrassing, knowing that some kid the same age as you is just lording over your life, right? I did mention that Gojo confronts your family in EKM, but I don't like that addition now, so I'm retconning it. I feel like they'd find out just like everyone else did: From the media. Everyone in your little town knew who the Gojo was, but the fact that their kid is getting married to one of them has so be surprising.

But then again, not something im interested in exploring

If Gojo had managed to find Ms. Moon before, things would certainly have been much different. The gojo now has 'cooled down' and is far less volatile. If they had met again, if they were in their early twenties....things would not be much different from his high school counterpart.

[justmystyles]

literally just came up with this so suddenly but imagine plusiszereader being like an old member of the band or something. like she was apart of the love band back in 2021 but left just to do her own stuff BUT her and harry have been in a relationship since then. it’s obvi private but fans like absolutely love and miss her. then, for the final show when harry is doing the 10 minute ballad she comes out as one of the flute players for one last show and people just going nuts.

then at the end just a shit ton of love dovey stuff like them both crying and comforting each other cause its the final show.

OH LORD IM DELULU YALL

Heart Song

read my other work here!

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

*i say it's a plus size reader, but it is not something that i focus on explicitly in my fics, because your size should not define you. it will only come up if it comes into the story organically.*

word count: 1.7k

summary: as a former member of the Love on Tour band, and current girlfriend of Harry, he asks you to reprise your spot for the final show.

a/n: this was such a cute ask, thank you so much for sending it! this is the last final show fic i have planned for the time being. who knows what the future holds? i'm trying to catch up on asks, so if you're waiting on one that you've sent in, keep an eye out!

tags: @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @laurxn-robinson @lexiecamposv @likeapplejuicenpeach @lilfreakjez @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

You sit on the piano bench beside your boyfriend, at a complete loss for words at the song he just played for you. He had been so excited to show you what he was working on, he said that it was a song for his fans, that he wanted to play it for them at his last Love on Tour show.  

“Is it… do you like it?” He asked tentatively. 

“Baby, it’s so beautiful. No words?” He shook his head. “It’s perfect.” 

He grins, his dimples making your heart melt. “Well, almost.” You give him a curious look. “It could use some accompaniment, perhaps a flute?” He said with a wink. 

“Who, me?” Harry laughs at your reaction. “But I haven’t been in your band for a year and a half.”

He takes your hand in his. “And I’ve missed you every show. So have the rest of the band, and the fans too.” 

“I don’t know, Harry.” 

“Please, baby?” He pleaded. “This has been such a huge tour for me. For us. We fell in love on this tour, it would mean the world to me if you were by my side when it was ending.” 

Your expression softened at his words, he was right. You had been hired to play in his band, and got so much more than you bargained for when the two of you fell for each other. You fell hard and fast, but before you knew it, you were saying goodbye to Love on Tour. You had only signed on temporarily, leaving to pursue some solo work. Just because you said goodbye to the tour, didn’t mean you were saying goodbye to Harry. The two of you maintained your relationship, keeping it out of the public eye, allowing Harry a modicum of privacy.  

You let out a sarcastic sigh. “Well, I suppose I am going to be there anyway. I was looking forward to just being an audience member, but I guess I could pop onstage for a few minutes.” 

Harry threw his arms around you, pulling you into his embrace. “I love you so much, thank you thank you thank you!” 

After finishing Fine Line, Harry retreated to the backstage area to prepare for the encore. This was your cue to head back there yourself to prepare for his final song. Before you head into the changing area, you rush over to the wings, hoping to catch him before he goes back onstage. 

You finally see him, he’s pacing, clearly trying to compose himself. You pause for a moment, debating whether or not you want to bother him, but when his eyes lock on yours you feel drawn to him like a magnet. 

“How are you holding up?” You ask, brushing a loose curl out of his face. 

He shakes his head, taking a deep breath. “It’s almost over.” 

“I know baby,” you place your hand on his cheek, stroking gently. “You’ve still got a few more songs, go out there and give it everything you’ve got.” 

“You’re still coming on for the finale?” He asks hopefully. 

“It’s why I’m here,” you assure him. “I’m gonna run and go change real quick.” 

“If I send someone to get your jumpsuit for you, do you think you could just throw it on here?” He pleads. “I need you close while I’m out there. You make me stronger.” 

You smile softly, placing your lips against his in a soft kiss. “Whatever you need, Harry, always.” 

He smiles gratefully, kissing you once more before running up to one of the production assistants, and instructing him to get your outfit and flute from his dressing room. He returns to you, taking your hands in his. “It’ll be here in a second. Thank you, my love.”

“Nothing to thank,” you say plainly. “Nowhere I’d rather be. Now get out there and knock ‘em dead.” 

He brought your hands to his lips, kissing the backs of them, and headed back onstage. You followed as far as you could without being seen so that you could watch his final few songs. You looked on proudly as he gave his all. 

You loved this man with all your heart but more than that, as a musician you admired him more than anything. His dedication to his craft, and his fans, was unwavering. Time and time again he would give himself to everyone, first with the heartfelt music he would write; and then dedicating nearly two years of his life to traveling the world in an effort to bring that music to his fans. 

The PA that Harry had sent to retrieve your things promptly returned, handing you your things. You thanked him quickly, not wanting to take your eyes off of Harry. You slip your jumpsuit on over your clothes, and change into the custom Love on Tour adidas sneakers that had been made for the band. 

Kiwi ended, and Harry waved and bowed to the crowd before running offstage and immediately into your arms. 

“You were amazing, Harry. I’m so proud of you.” You whisper to him. You feel him nod against your neck in reply. 

You allow him a few more moments of comfort before you know you need to set yourself on stage. The band had stayed out there, getting position for this final song. “Baby?” You ask softly, getting his attention as you step back from your embrace. “I’ve gotta get out there, you going to be okay?” 

Harry nods, pulling you in for a quick kiss. “You’ll be close, yeah?” 

You smile at him, placing a comforting hand on his cheek. “Right next to the piano.” You give him one last kiss and make your way to the stage. 

You step out, smiling and nodding at your former bandmates, hearing the whispers and questions from the crowd start to pick up.

“Is that Y/N?”

“He must have asked her to come back for the last show.” 

“But why is she only coming out now?” 

The murmurs quickly turn to cheers when they realize that it is in fact you on stage. This meant that whatever was about to happen was definitely going to be something big. As you waited for Harry to re-emerge, you looked out over the crowd. You had been in the thick of it during the show, but seeing it from the stage was an entirely different experience. 

As you were admiring the hordes of people who had come out just to see Harry, you were pulled from your thoughts by an eruption from the crowd. You looked to your left and watched Harry return to stage, quickly wiping away the remnants of the tears he had shed backstage. 

He took a seat at the piano, looking up at you. When you looked back, you saw a storm of emotions, but mostly you saw vulnerability. Harry was never one to shy away from expressing emotions onstage, but this was different. 

He spoke a few quick words in Italian before moving the microphone away and beginning to play. You had heard him play this song so many times since he had initially brought it to you a few weeks ago, but hearing it like this, as he intended it to be, was an unreal, once in a lifetime experience. The crowd of over one hundred thousand people were completely silent, everyone’s attention directed at Harry. 

You felt a nudge, and your attention quickly turned to your right. You saw the rest of the band preparing to come in, and you remembered that you were there to do a job. Your time just being the supportive girlfriend was on pause, you had to be a musician now. You lifted your flute to your lips, and joined in, your eyes never leaving Harry. 

Before long, the last note was played, and Harry stood from the piano. The crowd burst into cheers and applause like you’d never heard before. He bowed to the crowd before turning to face the band, mostly to express his gratitude to them, but you knew it was also a chance for him to compose himself. 

His eyes locked on you, and he immediately started moving in your direction, wrapping you in his arms. You returned the embrace, rubbing soothing circles over the bejeweled fringe on his back. 

“You did amazing, Harry.” You tell him. “This is all for you, go take it in. You deserve it.” 

He pulls back and gives you a tearful smile before taking your hand and walking to the center of the stage, signaling for everyone else to join. The group takes a bow to thunderous applause. As you all stand, Harry steps forward, drinking in every second of the fanfare. He moved to either end of the stage, thanking the fans by waving and blowing kisses. When he returns to center stage, he pauses again this time dropping to his knees, his hands covering his face. Completely overwhelmed by the emotions of the moment. 

Even though the band is sharing their own moment, hugging and congratulating each other, you are frozen in place, eyes locked on Harry. You were so focused on him that you didn’t even notice the tears streaming down your face. 

When he finally stood, he gave the crowd one more smile and wave before turning to exit the stage. As soon as he turned around, he saw you and smiled walking straight for you. You both moved at the same time, cupping each other’s faces in your hands wiping the other’s tears away with your thumbs. Chuckling at the synchronized movements. 

You pulled him into your arms, and his face immediately nuzzled into your neck. You could feel the moisture from the new tears dropping onto your skin. 

“I’m so proud of you, Harry.” You coo. “It couldn’t have gone any better.” 

He pulled back to look at you. “Thank you for being here.” 

“Nowhere I’d rather be.” You state plainly. He smiles and starts leaning in toward your lips. You jerk back quickly. “Baby, we’re still onstage.” 

“Don’t care,” he leans back in, pressing his lips to yours in a slow kiss. 

You pull away with a smile. “Ready?” 

He nodded silently, stepping out of your embrace and turning to the crowd one last time to blow them a final farewell kiss. He then took your hand and led you off the stage and into your new post-tour life. 

[sysmedsaresexist]

As someone with OSDD (if I’m right) what’s the worst misinfo about DID that us endos discuss in our spaces? /genq

JCYDJFCYS I love this question, I want my mods to jump in, too, but I'm going to spice it up with the worst misinformation from both sides.

For me, Dude, the worst I've seen in endo circles... is that DID is the same thing as mediumship. This is going to seem like I'm vagueing one of two people, but it's not you two (you'll know who you are). There's actually someone from before them that gave me the worst taste for that discourse, and probably made me a lot more angry about it.

In anti circles, it's got to be that dissociation is solely trauma-based. It's the most fundamental misunderstanding that leaks into everything else

I think those are my two biggest peeves.

-

Mod Quill here to say FFFFFF I HATE MISINFO. Gosh it really is in all the communities, too.

In endogenic spaces, it’s hard for me to decide, but I think it’s the idea that the ToSD is ableist because “it supports final fusion” (which is its own can of worms, which I think Mod Robo might touch on, if my guess is correct). The ToSD doesn’t even fucking mention final fusion get off it. I hear about the ToSD being ableist constantly, and genuinely, it seems like just being medical at all in any way is considered ableist…

Meanwhile, anti-endos? Good lord. The worst misinfo I see is the gatekeeping of trauma. “You can’t develop DID from XYZ” — congrats! You’re a fakeclaimer who doesn’t understand how trauma works. I pray no newly discovered systems find you.

-

Mod Robo here! Oh gosh, what misinfo haven't I seen? I swear I've seen the wildest shit!

Some of the worst stuff from pro-endos was them claiming or implying that CDDs are just the "broken" versions of endogenic plurality. I've seen people claim that DID doesn't require trauma, that the DID diagnosis only exists to stigmatize endogenic plurals, and that CDD systems who use terms like "parts" or "alters" just want to dehumanize ourselves and others.

Around 2019, a pro-endo started spreading a rumor that MPD was renamed to DID in order to stigmatize plurals which is just so horribly incorrect. Multiple dissociative disorders were renamed at the same time to have the word 'dissociation' in them, and it was done by a team of researchers. The pro-endo used the previous DSM chairman's ableism to spread lies and drag innocent DID systems into discourse.

Like mod Quill said, there's been a ton of misinfo from pro-endos over ToSD (theory of structural dissociation). I've seen people claim that it's completely bunk because one of the researchers who worked on it (there were multiple) lost his medical license for abusing a patient. I've also seen pro-endos try to apply ToSD to endogenic plurality and conclude that ToSD must be bunk because it doesn't fit? It just makes no sense to me because the theory was created to explain trauma-related dissociation caused by disorders like PTSD and DID, etc... It has nothing to do with plurality.

I've also seen tooons of horrible shit from pro-endos AND anti-endos about final fusion and fused alters/systems. I've seen people say it's comparable to grooming or suicide, or that these systems are just secretly "pluralphobic" and trying to become singlets. Honestly, the hatred and misinfo I've seen people say about fused systems is some of the worst.

As for anti-endos, I've seen lots of bad misinfo too... One of the worst things is gatekeeping common CDD things based on trauma type. For example, saying that nonhuman alters are only possible in systems who experienced ritual abuse. Other common CDD things I've seen anti-endos say can only happen due to ritual abuse: gatekeeper alters, subsystems, polyfragmentation, alters with number names or color names, switching due to triggers, alters who feel loyal to their abusers, alters that other alters can front through, certain headspace stuff like checkered floor tiles, having a headspace in general, etc.

I could say more but my reply is already longer than both Dude's and Quill's combined. I'll just leave it off here!

-

Mod Signal: I like this ask a lot lol. It shows genuine curiosity and a desire to improve spaces. Misinfo collects like dirt around syscourse. We all have to sweep regularly to make sure that shit gets thrown out.

On the pro-endo side, the worst I've seen is endo systems attempting to lean into the fantasy model of CDDs to support their own plurality. That model has been debunked for quite a while, and it has hurt so many goddamn people. CDDs are trauma-based, we don't have to reverse scientific progress or fakeclaim some of the first cases of recorded CDDs to support endo systems.

On the anti-endo side, my least favorite bit of misinformation is the idea that the TOSD shows how different people's trauma ranks in the trauma Olympics. The idea that someone with polyfragmented DID must have had things worse than an OSDD 1B system who must have had things worse than someone with BPD, etc. The level of dissociation required for each label in the DSM relies on so many more factors than just "who had it worse". There are biological dispositions to dissociation to take into account, there's the reminder that what's traumatic to a child isn't always considered traumatic to an adult, there's attachment styles to take into play. There is so much more to the science than "I had it worse than you and I have the diagnosis to prove it".

--

Everyone is welcome to reblog and add their own. This could be a good learning opportunity for people to go, "wait, that's not true??"