Iced Venti

She/Her Scorpio Currently 24 yrs

[mango-bango-bby]

Dabi+daddy kink

♡ Small Words ♡

(A/N: So like ummmmm,, the day that I wrote this I was feeling super insecure and felt like doing something bad to myself (I don’t wanna say the real words) so I wrote this!!! I hope you enjoy this self indulgent mess 💖)

Content Warning ⚠️: NSFW, Insecure!Reader, Mean thoughts about reader by themselves, Daddy Kink, Cockwarming, CGL Themes

Prompt List ♡

Prompt: Dabi + Daddy Kink (Yan!Dabi x FEM!Reader)

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Tell me what you said to the mirror this mornin’, babygirl” Dabi says gently holding your chin in his hand, making you face him.

Your eyes well up with tears before you close your eyes. You hadn’t even thought Dabi had heard the small words you had whispered to yourself, nor had you thought he’d take it so seriously.

Dabi’s pace is painfully slow, he’s barely even moving in you at this point. You sit in his lap, just sitting there. Normally if Dabi’s fucking you, he’s moving your hips for you but today he keeps your hips on place. As a punishment of sorts, more like a lesson though, at least in Dabi’s mind.

“I’m sorry, daddy” you whine, you really didn’t think he had heard your self deprecating words to yourself. Dabi leans forward, brushing some of the stray hair out of your face. “I know, princess. Tell me what you said” Dabi says, staring at you. Although his words are sweet, his eyes and stare is intense and stern.

You try to roll your hips against Dabi’s but he stops you, forcing you to continue cockwarming him. “T-That I was ugly...” you mumble, tears flowing down your cheeks.

“And do you see why that’s wrong, baby, do you know why I’m punishing you?” Dabi asks, wiping away your tears with calloused thumbs. It truly pains Dabi to just sit there, inside of you. However he wants you to learn your lesson.

“I know, daddy, I’m sorry!” You plead, becoming more and more needy by the second. “You know you can’t say such nasty things about yourself, princess” Dabi chides “Do you know why?” Dabi asks, making you say the words got that Dabi loves calling you. “Cause, I’m your p-pretty girl...” you whine, squeezing your eyes shut. “Good girl” Dabi simply responds.

“I should be giving you a harsher punishment, shouldn’t I?” He says, putting his hands on your hips however not guiding them to grind down, sadly. You only nod at his rhetorical question.

“But daddy just loves you to much to do that” Dabi says, gentling kissing you. “I- I love you too, daddy. Thank you” You whisper, leaning forward onto Dabi’s chest. “Hmm, babygirl” Dabi mumbles, beginning to gently thrust inside of you, enjoying your reaction as you moan.

Your mouth drops open as small whimpers and mewls fall from your mouth. You grind down on Dabi’s cock, trying to get him as deep into you as you can after being teased for so long.

Dabi really hates hearing you say awful things about yourself, however he knows that a punishment won’t teach you a lesson. So he chides you and now he’s going to show you exactly why you shouldn’t think those things about yourself, just how much your daddy loves you.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Thank you for reading, darling!!

[notvil]

"Izu...wrong hole! Wrong hole!"

"Hmmm, no it's not baby."

(regarding the Izuku loves anal post)

HE WOULD NEVER (my braid did a screenshot)

it's hardly surprising when he finally decides to go for it—he’s been teasing the idea for most of your relationship. when he’s eating you out, his tongue drifts just a little too low. when he takes you from behind, he spreads you a bit too wide until that burn sets in and he's hushing you softly. when he spits to help the slide, it always seems to land right on your pucker. so maybe you shouldn’t be too upset when he finally just gives in, right? :/

he's drunk. you really shouldn't indulge him, but… it's him.

he has you pinned, his weight pressing you down as he fucks the wet space between your thighs, kissing your ear and making you desperate. he keeps pushing past your cunt, dipping in but never sliding fully inside. he feels you gather a breath to hiss something sharp and mean at him and—

"there we go," he murmurs into your shoulder, his voice muffled and making your ears ring. "is this what you needed?"

a flutter grows in your belly, your mouth falling open soundlessly. his hands under your hips do nothing to help, tilting you up toward his own hips, which feel a mile away. "that's not—" you shudder, twitching, and he groans against your shoulder. you choke as he presses you open, centimeter by centimeter. tears well up, choking your voice. "w-wrong hole, izu."

"hmm?"

"wrong—" you cut yourself off with a groan dragged from the bottom of your lungs. it feels good, you just— "hole. izuku?" your voice trembles, your insides trembling too with little sobs that usually only come when you're four orgasms deep. you think you're going to lose your head.

"hmm." the sound vibrates through you as his cock sinks deeper. he's locked you in place, keeping you exactly where he wants you under him. you can't shift without him winding tighter around you—digging deeper into you. "no, it's not, baby."

“you—” the sound that escapes you is embarrassing, but it’s true, so you let it out with a slow shake of your head. he gives a soft grunt, pulling back just enough to rest his head against your back, watching you take him in. your stomach flutters, and you exhale shakily, allowing him to sink deeper. you feel yourself growing wetter, your cunt pulsing and drooling onto the sheets beneath you—then his hand slides further under, his fingers brushing lightly over your clit. your reaction is instant. “oh, god! izuku.”

“not the wrong hole, angel,” you can hear the grin in his voice, the slick sound of his fingers moving, the way he gasps after you clench tight around him. “just… a different one.”

.

.

.

.

.

...."hmm, no it's not baby." <- IS INSANEEEW KJBSD:IVHWI:BGR:IWRBGIBWR:OGs;'[p'[l[ if u wanted me dead u coulda just said that kitten wtf

[katsukikitten]

OH MY GOD VIL PLEASE PLEASE you make Izuku so insanely fucking hot and perfect seriously I'm OBSESSED STOP I CANT

God he's so hoooooooot he's literally the only one who can get away with thaaaat

GOD GOD AND THE "Just a different one"

IM BARKING AND THE WARMING YOU UP TO IT OVER TIME LIKE A LONG CON RAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

[ch3rrykoolaid]

Yooooooo

[after-witch]

Headcanons: Yandere Dabi with depressed, clingy darling

Anonymous said: ahh I loved your takeout fic, so can I request some hcs where the darling has not necessarily gotten “better” or more talkative or any more conscious of their own health- but they HAVE gotten noticeably clingier? Dabis the one taking care of them. they dont know how to do it themselves anymore and its too sad to try so they cant help but be attached to him. Would he like this or still be guilty and worried? Thinkin bout Dabi with a depressed darling whos desperate for cuddles has me like O///O

Ohh this is sad. I love it. 

notes: yandere, depression, stockholm syndrome

He would love it

He would feel guilty… but hell, would he love it

He still wants you to get better, he still wants you to get your spark back, he really does…

But there’s no way he can deny how nice it feels to have you slotting yourself against him on the couch while he takes care of your hair or rubs your back or gently strokes up and down your sides, tingling and tickling

And he can’t hope to pretend to ignore the way it makes his heart thrum when you sit patiently on the kitchen cabinet (that he’s lifted you onto, saying ‘huuup’ every time, hoping to see a little smile) and wait for him to help you wash your face, brush your teeth, etc

“There we go… just wait there like a good (Y/N) while I get your fancy face stuff out, k?”

He’ll have to hide smirks when you reach out and grasp his jacket whenever he needs to leave, and wait until he can transform them into nice, patient smiles instead

You rarely have the energy to actually ask him to stay, but when your fingers grip his jacket so tightly and you’re looking up at him with glassy, tear-brimmed eyes, it’s clear what you want (and what you need)

So if he can, he’ll swoop you into his arms, bridal-style, and sit you on the couch. He’ll wrap his legs around your waist and let you rest against his chest until he absolutely has to leave

“Don’t fall asleep on me now… I have to go soon. I won’t be gone long this time.”

He’ll make sure you eat, too. Feeding you spoonfuls and sometimes deliberately missing your mouth to try to get you to laugh; sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t

He’ll insist you change your clothes every day and hey, he can always help you with that… picking out soft, comfortable things that he knows you can lounge in, because lounging is all you do lately

In short, he will absolutely indulge in the feeling of being your caretaker, your protector, the one who comforts you; even as he’s trying to get you to do more yourself, bit by bit.

It’s miles better than the days when you’d scream and spit and kick him, that’s for sure.

“Don’t worry, I don’t mind takin’ care of you. It’s what a good boyfriend does, right?”

[orenjineki]

Oh, I love this so much 😍

[tortugahoe]

Megumiiiiii… Toji is the father but Gojo birthed him

[ch3rrykoolaid]

Maury: “Toji, in the case of 16 year old Megumi……..You are NOT the father!”

Toji: “YES—Wait what😳???”

Maury: “Satoru, in the case of 16 year old Megumi……….YOU ARE THE FATHER!!!

Satoru: *Jumps up out of his chair and runs around the stage while a cameraman follows him.* “AAAAAAHHHHH!!! I TOLD YOU! I TOLD YOU!🥳😝🤣”

Toji: *Dramatically falls out of his chair and rolls on the floor.* “HUH!?! H-How!? I was in the hospital with his mom! Y’ALL MOTHERFUCKERS LYING!!!🤯🤬😭”

Shiu: *Reads the DNA results* “Oh shit—“

Satoru: “WHERE’S MY CHILD SUPPORT TOJI!? IT’S BEEN 16 YEARS!!!🤞🏻🔴➕🔵🟰🟣”

Toji: “AW HELL NAH!!! FUCK YOU! I’M NOT PAYING YOU SHIT!!💥💥💥🔫”

[Both men proceed to swing on each other while the audience loudly cheers on. A producer is comforting a crying Megumi in the back.]

[yanderenightmare]

TW: nsfw, omegaverse, poly

gn reader

Thinking about Betas and how lost they are navigating the world of Alphas and Omegas. Betas, with no second gender and none of those primal instincts, who has to listen to all this mating and bonding drama without ever participating in any of it. Betas, who often find Omegas cute and Alphas hot but who feel kind of left out of the running. Betas who make great clueless friends…

“So, do you like—take suppressants for your heats or?” he asks during lunch.

You knew it was coming. You’d just had a special guest lecture about heats and ruts, and all your friends, the entire two of them, were both betas—so it was mostly all new to them.

“Dude! That’s so personal!” your other friend berates, jabbing his side and casting him a glare before throwing you an apologetic smile on both of their behalf. But you could tell he was burning with the same curiosity, he was just polite enough to look it up on his phone instead.

“M’sorry, but teach didn’t explain it well,” he apologizes while rubbing his side clear of the definite bruise left there. “Like…” He almost pouts, picking at his lunch. “What do heats actually do? Like—does it compel Alphas to—uhm… have sex with you? Or?”

“Dude!” the other all but shrieks.

“It’s fine,” you declare with a little laugh. Though it’s true what he says that it’s personal, you wouldn’t really mind disclosing some of the basics. Especially if it meant killing off a few rumors.

Though you regret it a bit once both of them end up staring at you wide-eyed and waiting.

“Uhm…” You swallow thickly—you didn’t realize it was that interesting. “So, it’s really… just a faint scent that’s caused by pheromones.” They don’t even blink as they listen, lunches all but forgotten in front of them. “All it really does is let people know when I’m—or an Omega—uhm… is most fertile.”

“Right…” One of them nods.

But the other, as usual, has more questions to ask. “So why take suppressants if that’s all it is?”

You blush. “Well, it’s kinda embarrassing to walk around letting people know such a thing…” That’s half of it. “But, uhm… well—heats don’t affect others more than it affects Omegas themselves. It’s kinda like… having a fever—but also having swallowed a lot of cough syrup. And well…” You’re really blushing now. Lowering your voice almost to a whisper. “There’s the horny aspect of it too.”

The other two blush as well. The more mature one had gone silent a while ago, but even so, it didn’t stop the other from continuing. “So, like a drug then?”

That wasn’t the worst way of putting it, so you nodded. “I guess you could say that.”

He smiles then, widely. “Sounds kinda fun!”

And the other jabs his side once more. “Dude, shut up already.” 

…

You didn’t think a Beta could ever do the job of an Alpha—but lucky you had two of them.

You have one of them in your mouth, suckling sweetly, hooded eyes glossy with your heat, looking up at him—your well-mannered Beta friend who barely dares touch you but is absolutely falling apart by the way your tongue swirls around his shaft, trailing veins as you take him as far back as your uvula. He’s biting his lip hard, keeping it tucked so as not to moan out the way his friend is.

He isn’t afraid to touch—or he couldn’t hold back even if he were. He’s squeezing the fat of your haunches hard enough to leave bruises, keeping you in place as he pounds you hard from behind. Unabashed groans and moans leave him, along with the slick squelches of your hole soaking and sucking him in.

“Fu-uck, can’t believe it—it’s so fucking wet—” He’s drooling and sweating, eyes misty and glued to the sight of where he’s drilling the juice out of you. It’s unlike anything he’s ever seen. Not that he has too much experience, but he’s never wanted to cum so badly in his entire life. “You’re so tight—squeezing me so hard!” he rambles while continuing his downright desperate pace.

“Shut up…” the other mutters under his breath but doesn’t take his eyes off you. You’re bewitching him with your gaze—round doe-eyes, blown wide with pleasure. He wonders if you even know what’s happening or if it’ll be like a blacked-out hangover in the morning. He ought to have asked more questions when he could. But he can’t seem to bring himself to care. In any case, you seem to be loving the taste of his pre, and the thought is making every part of his body buzz with warmth. You’ll probably drink his cum with the way you’re drooling and mewing around him.

It nearly brings them both to tears—it’s like the wettest dream come true as they both fill you up—one deep into your womb as he bottoms out tightly and the other down your throat with your lips wrapped all the way down at the base.

They both collapse afterward. One lies on his back and the other on his stomach—bodies stippled with sweat—both heaving.

You pout, looking at them. They must be out of their minds if they think that’s all it takes. You straddle the one on his back, both your hands around his softening dick, rubbing it back into hardness.

“Hey, hey, hey—hey, wait!” he stammers, shooting up and stopping you—both hands wrapping around your wrist to try and pry you off without prying his dick off while at it.

“No!” you whine. “Not done.”

The look in your eyes is sore enough to make any man fall to his knees.

“Please? I need more… please give me more…”

If he was blushing before, he’s full feverish now. Panning from your pouty face riddled with desperation down at his fellow Beta friend who looks back up at him with a similar expression.

We're in trouble.

BNHA – ShinKami, KiriBaku, DabiHawks, TodoDeku

JJK – SatoSugu, ItaFushi

HQ – Miya twins, KageHina, BokuAka,

CSM – AkiDen

[lesinquietes]

Just imagine being a person who copes with stress and anxiety using humour. You’re giggling and cracking jokes as Dabi’s about to hit it from behind. Suddenly, he grabs a fistful of your hair, coils it around his hand for a better grip, and shoves your face into the mattress. Simultaneously, he bullies his thick member into your pussy, filling you until he reaches that gummy spot in your depths that always has you babbling and cumming until you pass out. You moan sweetly into the fabric of his sheets as he starts pummeling that area. Your clit throbs with every thrust he delivers, silently begging him to flick the little nub between his fingers so you can find reprieve. He lets you suffer with the craving, edging you while he dips down and whispers into your ear.

“Make jokes now.”

And he yanks your head up so you can try. The mirror behind his bed reveals a fucked out mess. Your eyes are rolled back and crossed in sheer, stupefied pleasure. There’s drool dribbling down your chin, from a greedy tongue that’s hanging out the side of your mouth like a stunned bitch. He smirks at your image before lowering your oblivious face back into the mattress.

“That’s what I fuckin’ thought.”

[honeyvenny]

@dabislittlemouse

I want him to be real so bad it’s crazy

[dabislittlemouse]

I audibly GASPEDDD

[tteokdoroki]

˚✧₊・🍉 — SPONSOR A WIP FOR GAZA !

hello everyone!! i wanted to join the writing project ficsforgaza with the intention of raising more awareness and hopefully donations for the ongoing cause. i am a little slow on writing but hopefully this will motivate myself and others for a good cause <3!

rate: $1 USD per 100 words !

instructions: please follow this link and donate to a vetted fund of your choosing. after doing so, send an off-anon ask to myself including the following: a redacted screenshot (hiding any personal information), a link to the fundraiser you’ve donated to, the name of the wip you’re sponsoring.

example: hi aali! i have donated to help mashael and her family. i would like to sponsor an alternative to grief [ screenshot showing $5 usd has been donated - equivalent to 500 words ]

i will not be publishing asks, but for transparency, will be keeping a record of evidence to send to @ficsforgaza — this is to ensure individuals are not reusing screenshots sent to myself or other writers. the wips will be updated regularly.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ 🍉 wips disclaimer ! - they are below the cut.

there will also be a donation goal for each wip just to ensure that I don’t get overwhelmed! i work full time and write a little slow, but the main goal is to raise awareness and donate to an important cause. there are various lengths available, subject to change but dont worry if i don’t have anything you fancy! please check out the other authors who are apart of this project!

note: minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact. sfw, nsfw and dark content is included in the wips below.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ 🍉 current wips available !

an alternative to grief; katsuki bakugou.

tags ! pro hero!bakugou, nurse!reader, strangers to lovers, dating after loss, children, therapy, grief, hurt comfort, fluff, angst, smut + part one of three.

with the sudden death of your husband, you find yourself alone with a son, angry at the world and in the corner of a therapy group specifically for grieving spouses of pro heroes. it isn’t until you lock eyes with a familiar, formidable red that you come to realise… there is happiness after death and alternatives to grief.

current word count: 5,991/10,000+

donation goal word count: 0/5,000

seven; katsuki bakugou.

tags ! hockey player!bakugou, figure skater!reader, college!au, break ups, love triangles, happy ending, fluff, angst and smut.

you’ve been playing this game of cat and mouse with your ex, katsuki, for as long as you’ve known him. when you finally put your foot down for the last time, he comes up with an extensive plan to mend your relationship. or the seven ways in which katsuki bakugou tries to get you back - based on seven by jungkook of bts.

current word count: 184/20,000+

donation goal word count: 0/5,000

my doll; eijirou kirishima.

tags ! pro hero!au, soft dom!kirishima, dumbification, dollification, smut + dark content.

eijirou kirishima was born with an innate desire to protect, to give, to dominate and perhaps that is why he slowly begins to take over your life, treating you as though you’re some dainty little doll…belonging only to him.

current word count: 2,647/3,500

donation goal word count: 0/1,000

something i thought belonged to me; izuku midoriya.

tags ! pro hero!au, college!au, strangers to friends to lovers, coming of age, misunderstandings, fluff, angst + smut.

after abandoning your dream school to start anew and get away from your shitty ex, you adopt a stray l cat to cope with your lonesome…only to find out the pro hero exchange student next door has had the exact same idea.

current word count: 0/15,000+

donation goal word count: 0/5,000

swingsets; yuuji itadori.

tags ! college!au, small town!au, summer romance, coming of age, first loves, self discovery, misunderstandings, fluff, angst + smut, part one of many.

everyone always says you’ve got your whole life ahead of you. but life moves quick and yuuji itadori has only one year left of his degree to figure out what it is that he wants. making it big in the big city of tokyo isn’t all what it’s cut out to be, so he decides to return to his roots, and indirectly, return to you. OR a jjk small town!au where each sorry connects to another. this is the story of yuuji itadori, reconnecting with his first love.

current word count: 0/20,000+

donation goal word count: 0/5,000

other ways to help can be found here and here.

— all rights reserved © TTEOKDOROKI 2020-2024. all fanfics belong to me, do not copy, translate, repost nor recommend on tiktok any of the works seen here.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Your Guardian Angel

Male Angel Yandere x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Extremely dubious consent, stalking, possessive yandere, jealous yandere, general yandere behavior, manipulative yandere, emotionally manipulated reader, reader dies nonviolently but the story continues with them in the afterlife, reader's boyfriend momentarily has cancer, religious themes and concepts, heaven, angel disguised as a demon, mild biting, soul claiming, heartbroken reader) Word Count: 2.5k (This was written within one late night/early morning writing session and was not beta read, I hope you all like it and I apologize for any errors.)

Not everyone receives a guardian angel, there are simply too many humans in the mortal plane to meet that type of demand. Instead guardian angels are allocated based on greatest need to those who might be most vulnerable to dark forces and to those with stronger souls who would be too dangerous if corrupted by the likes of a curse, demon, or vampire.

But you were one such soul. Perhaps the trials you had struggled through in life had left your spirit bruised and battered and dark entities were primed to take advantage.

Or perhaps the things you had experienced had strengthened your will and that was reflected on your soul, making it a tempting mark for corruption.

Either way it really didn’t matter, the result was the same. You had a guardian angel, Eriphel.

Eriphel was, relatively speaking, still somewhat new to the work of guarding humans. He had been at it for a few human generations. Which was very short, considering the immortal life span of an angel. He was one of the younger angels that had been created for this task.

He protected each charge he had with complete determination, always near his assignment, remaining unseen to the mortal realm despite being on a plane that overlapped with it.

When he started watching you when it became apparent in your early adulthood that you required a guardian the job was no different from any of the others that he had.

But… there was something about you that fascinated him. He hadn’t allowed himself to pay much attention to the personal details of his previous charges.

Eriphel didn’t know what was different about you but he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. No matter what you were doing he just had to drink it all in. Watching you do your job, watching you cook, watching you read, watching you do all your little human hobbies, watching you do anything filled his entire being with such foreign alien sensations.

His heart fluttered and his chest filled with warmth and longing. He even felt his pants tighten with arousal for the first time in his life. It was so euphoric… and torturous at the same time. The longer that he was around you the stronger all these sensations became.

After around a year it was no longer enough for Eriphel to merely watch you. To be only a passive observer as your life played before him like a movie he had no control over.

He started sleeping beside you in your bed, wrapping his wing around you protectively. Of course you didn’t know he was there, but your sleep did noticeably improve. No nightmares or insomnia, not on his watch.

Eriphel also developed a habit of hugging you at work, wrapping his arms around whenever you became upset or stressed. It helped your mood a lot.

The angel’s divine light was washing over your soul in these moments and even if you could not see him he knew he was the best thing for you. But he also knew that eventually you would pass away as all mortals did and your soul would slip through his fingers as it transcended to heaven.

He couldn’t allow that, he had to take ownership of your soul in the same way that demons did.

If he made a soul pact with you then he got ownership of your soul when you eventually moved on and then you would be his and his alone until the end of eternity.

But he didn’t have to rush it, you were not in any great danger and he could protect you and keep you alive from any external threat that could threaten you… even if it violated a few rules to intercept mundane physical threats.

He had plenty of time.

Or so he thought.

A bit of time passed and you met someone. A man by the name of Jason. A mutual friend had set the two of you up. You tried not to think too much of it at first, how could this tiny insignificant human have any possible influence on you when your souls had felt the holy embrace of an angel’s wings?

But as the days turned into weeks turned into many long months it became obvious you were in love with him.

Eriphel wouldn’t stand for it.

He had been with you for nearly two years by this point.

He knew your favorite color, he knew your favorite foods, he knew every single password that you had for every website, he knew what expression you had when you were deep in thought, when you were annoyed, when you were in the middle of an orgasm.

There was nothing he didn’t know about you.

As he stood before you in the dead silence of night watching your lover spoon you protectively tears rolled down his cheeks. He had never cried before, but he recognized the behavior from the humans he had watched over.

Something had to be done.

If he could just claim your soul then he wouldn’t need to worry about the relative tiny amount of time you spent in this world because you would spend eternity with him when you passed on.

Eriphel decided he would interact with you directly as you slept. He’d disguise himself as a demon and make a deal with you. Then you’d be his and everything would be alright. He was shaking with the sheer anxiety of what he was about to do, he had barely said anything to a human before and even then that was only with some who were deceased.

That night you had a vivid dream, it was so real. A demon came to you and made you a fabulous offer of wealth beyond imagining. You couldn’t remember what he wanted, but you felt the price was too high. You were scared. You turned him down and ran.

Eriphel should have known an offer of wealth wasn’t enough to gain what he wanted from you, still he thought it was worth a try. He knew you’d at least be tempted by all the good you could do with money.

When you next saw the monstrous demon in your dreams you remembered it even more clearly than you had before. You were in a pristine palace of obsidian and red, richly decadent but with an undeniably sinister undertone.

The demon spoke in a voice that sounded like several people talking in unison.

This time it offered to let your parents live longer, to give them pristine health for their age so that they could spend more time with you.

This time you were tempted, you hesitated. But after some consideration you still declined before fleeing. Your parents weren’t in bad health as far as you knew and them having a few extra years wasn’t worth the price of your soul until the end of time.

Eriphel was homing in on the solution, getting closer to the offer that would have you as his. But he wasn’t there yet…

A couple months passed and you and your beloved Jason moved in together. But tragedy struck as not long after that your boyfriend went to the doctor to get some worrying symptoms looked at.

Cancer. Inoperable brain tumor.

The news broke you, but you had to put on a strong face for Jason’s sake. He had always supported you and been the strong one when you needed him and now he needed you.

Jason fell asleep with his head on your chest as you held him in your arms. You made sure he was sound asleep before you let yourself cry silently.

It took a long time but finally the emotional toll of the day caught up with you and dragged you into sleep as well.

Once again you were in that clean, rich, sinister building of polished red and black. The horned demon standing before you again, terrible and proud.

“I can save him. I can cure him with a snap of my fingers. All you have to do is agree to hand over your soul after your death.”

You were shaky, you couldn’t think clearly after the events of the day, you wanted nothing more than for Jason to live the full life he deserved. If it meant you had to be a demon’s victim and tortured for eternity after your death then so be it, the years you had growing old with Jason were worth any price.

“Yes! Please! S-save him!!!”

He smiled and approached you, grabbing you by your clothing.

“Wh-what are you-”

“This is how a soul pact is sealed. You do want this deal don’t you?” You nodded and hung your head silently as he peeled off each article of clothing one by one. Suddenly you were in a different room, laying naked on your back with your legs propped up on the demon’s shoulders.

You knew he was a wicked and power hungry entity but the way he looked at you was almost like a human looking upon a holy relic. He took his time, shaking hands rubbing up and down every part of you.

This was not how a soul pact had to be sealed, but he couldn’t wait any longer to feel you.

The red skinned monstrosity kissed up your thighs, careful not to harm you with his horns. He was as gentle as a lamb.

When he finally got to the point where he was lining up his large cock with your hole he kept that same gentleness. You thought he’d have just ravaged you but he didn’t do that at all.

The demon slid his cock in you slowly, this wasn’t your physical body and no lube was needed, he glided deep inside you painlessly and moaned loudly as he did so.

Heaven was nothing compared to being inside his beloved darling who before today could have only dreamed of what it felt like inside of you.

As he slid his entire length in and out of you he bit at your chest, hungrily, but not very hard. Not enough to really hurt. Just enough to stimulate you and to taste your skin. He trailed up to your neck and licked, sucked, and kissed there over and over again like it was some drug he was hopelessly addicted to with no chance of quitting.

Your hands gripped the bed sheets feebly as he began to pick up speed. You felt a bit sick. You didn’t think that this would be pleasurable. You thought this would be as painful as he could make it, but it was so good. It made it feel like you were really cheating on Jason.

Even if this was probably just a stress induced dream your brain made to help you cope with devastating circumstances.

Eriphel couldn’t last long, being his first time and doing it with someone so supremely important.

His pace remained steady as his strong hands gripped your hips and pulled you close, slamming you down to his full nuts as he emptied them into you and the two of you shared a mind shattering orgasm. You could feel your very soul being claimed by his magical seed.

The demon kissed you passionately and then you and Jason both woke up to the sound of his phone ringing.

It was the doctor.

He was calling to explain that the machine was busted and was showing false tumors. He wanted Jason to come back in tomorrow for a scan on a different machine. He was probably okay.

The demon had kept up his end of the deal.

The two of you hadn’t slept long but now with the new test looming over the both of you neither of you could manage to go back to sleep.

When the time came the both of you got in the car with him driving and you in the passenger seat. Everything was fine and you both tried to calm yourselves and not get your hopes too high. Jason was likely okay, but there was always that small chance that he wasn’t.

You idly looked at the houses and trees as they passed when you saw movement from the rearview mirror. The demon hissing and lunging towards you. You screamed before everything went dark.

Doctors later examined your body and determined that you suffered a massive stroke. Not really what happened. Eriphel just couldn’t wait to have you, and he never said that he’d let you grow old with that… thing… you called Jason.

No, he said he’d cure him. And he had. It had been easy enough to reverse the magic he had used to give him cancer in the first place.

When you woke up you were in a large white room that looked like it was made out of marble, gold, and silver. The lights around the room looked to be carved out of pure milky white crystal.

You were confused. If you had died by the hands of that monster wouldn’t you be in the place you had seen in your dreams?

“Hello.”

You turned to see a tall lean man adorned in white robes, his hair was sparkling silver, he had a pair of great wings outstretched from his back, the feathers looked as if they had been dipped in the most thin and fragile layer of silver possible. His whole body glowed with a faint white light and his eyes were an otherworldly shade of shining gold.

“I understand you are confused. I am Eriphel, I am an angel that scours the mystic planes for demonic presence and eliminates it where I can. You were attached to a foul demon, a parasite of human misery. I noticed this just in time and snatched your soul at the moment of your death…”

You took in his words while staring transfixed at his beauty. You were really dead then. You introduced yourself and thanked him several times before calming yourself a bit and asking what you desperately needed to know.

“Is this heaven? Will I eventually be reunited with my boyfriend?”

Eriphel had to suppress a bit of rage that began mounting at that last inquiry.

“Sadly, your soul was marked by a demon, you can never enter the proper realm of heaven without being cast to hell, where that demonic entity would surely get you. But you are safe here, in my home. You will have to stay here… forever…”

His voice was mournful, and his eyes were wet with sympathy at your plight… or so you thought. Eriphel was really just crying because his fondest dream had come true. With no one else to interact with and his intimate knowledge of your every like and dislike you’d certainly fall in love with him.

The angel pulled you into a comforting hug as you sobbed into his chest at never being able to see Jason again, and he smiled wickedly as he rubbed your back. No one else would ever come between you again.

[mrspider-deactivated20221213]

hey if you died right now whats your ghost outfit you cant change it be honest

[chuuyrr]

chaos

platonic! jujutsu kaisen x scarlet witch! baby fushiguro! reader

masterlist | rules

“your daughter is the scarlet witch. a being not born, but forged from chaos.

she’s unique from the rest of her versions. it intrigues me to find out what path she will take in this one. will she ask me to mentor her again? will she create another reality? who knows? it’s exciting and frightening at the same time.”

synopsis:

you were the youngest child of fushiguro, toji. you were also born with exceptional cursed energy, or so they thought. they couldn’t exactly sense that cursed energy from you unless you made it specify known.

before your father took his last breath, he left you in gojo’s care, little did you know that it was going to be one hell of a rollercoaster of chaos and heart attacks for you and your father-figure, gojo satoru.

warning:

major manga/anime spoilers—along with wandavision, wanda maximoff in general; themes of angst, sad, crack and fluff.

this is going to be a crack themed series, consisting of scenarios and headcanons as requested :) do note that the portrayal of the jjk characters might be a lil’ ooc!

there is no accurate timeline or year gaps so please don’t attack me with “why is scarlet bb fushiguro still a baby when gojo got her around the time toji died, and then cue timeskip?” this is a oneshot series and a crossover, meaning that jujutsu kaisen might crossover fandoms like tokyo revengers and bungou stray dog, but all of it will be dependent on the request sent at my inbox / ask-box.

reader is afab unless stated/requested otherwise.

check the links in my pinned post before requesting.

Keep reading

[rowarn]

thinking about.......simon who really really really loves you but he's got so much trauma that he just can't stomach physical intimacy. just the thought makes him feel ill. but......he likes to watch.

which brings his most trusted man into the fray - johnny.

and tho simon doesn't touch you like you want, he's always nearby, watching as johnny fucks you absolutely stupid <3

[ch3rrykoolaid]

🥺🫶

[rowarn]

HYBRID!AU PART 2

part one | part two | part three (coming soon!!!)

(: anyway here's what you've all been begging for. a part 2 but it was getting so long...almost 3k words. and so....there will be a part 3.......but for now i hope this satiates you!!!

cw: hurt/comfort, aftermath of hurt???, self-deprecating thoughts, insecurities, mentions of blood and scratching, mentions of past mistreatment, petnames and headpats tho &lt;3

The next time a human approaches you, you’re unable to stop the growls that escape your throat when you hear the pspsp as he tries to approach you. When you hiss, the man scoffs and stomps away muttering a soft ‘stupid cat’ under his breath. 

No one approached you for a long while after that. The only way you knew how much time had passed was when the restaurants all threw their leftover food from their workdays. Eating out of the trash was always utterly humiliating, especially when you got caught. 

Most people ignored you when they saw you sitting on the sidewalk, getting some sun since it didn’t shine into the little alleyway you hunkered in. Some people would scoff and give you disgusted looks, as if you were a stain on their shoe. 

At this point, you were used to humans acting like you were scum of the Earth. After your experience with Simon, human’s behavior towards you no longer surprises you. Though it hurt, you didn’t understand why you were so unlovable. 

But then one evening, when the sun was just beginning to set and the temperature was steadily dropping, you were huddled up in what little bit of sun-warmth you could get until it became dark. Your arms were wrapped around your body as you shivered, trying to ignore the way your tummy growled from being empty – the store employees had chased you off before you could steal anything from the dumpster. 

A large shadow cast over you and when you looked up, you saw a slender, athletic man. His presence immediately set you on edge and you felt a growl bubbling up in your chest.

“Hey now,” he chided softly, pretty brown eyes crinkled as he squatted in front of you, “None of that, little kitty.”

You scowled up at him. Even crouched down the way he was, he was larger than you.

“Do you have a name?” he asks kindly. 

You pause at that. Soap had given you a name. But did it really count as one if your previous owner hadn’t even agreed to it? Still, it was the only thing you really had left of your former companion. 

You softly mutter the name you’d been given and the man nods before holding out his large hand, “Kyle. Would you like to come home with me?”

That sends off alarm bells in your head and before you know it, your claws are ripping into his hand and you’re scurrying into the alleyway to cower in the corner. 

You hear the man faintly sigh before he stands, knees cracking as he does. You don’t hear anything from him for a few minutes before his heavy boots walk past the alleyway and fade. 

You don’t even understand your own reaction. Of course you wanted a home to call your own. But you don’t think you would be able to handle it if he turned out to be the same as Simon. You wouldn’t be able to get attached to a human only to be abandoned on the streets like you were last night's trash. Perhaps it was just easier to reject all human companionship than risk being heartbroken all over again. You had only recently stopped crying yourself to sleep over the memory of your home. 

You think that will be the last time you see the man, surely he wouldn’t want anything to do with a cat-hybrid who was mean, but just a couple days later, he’s back. He stands beside you, one bandaged hand gripping a shopping bag. You feel a pang of guilt at the sight of his bandaged wound. He slowly places it beside you, staring at you expectantly. 

“This is for you,” he says awkwardly after a second of you staring blankly at him, “It’s some food and water.”

Your stomach growls at the mention of food and as much as you want to peek in the bag, you can’t bring yourself to admit defeat like that. He might think you’re accepting him as your owner if you accept his gift! 

But you’re not! You refuse to end up hurt and sad like you had been with Simon! You would rather just live on the street than go through that hurt all over again. You couldn’t stand to give your trust only to be betrayed and mistreated again.

You only wanted someone to love you but apparently that wasn’t in the deck for you and that was okay, you told yourself. No matter how much it hurts to admit.

The man, Kyle, sighs softly when you simply ignore him, the sound almost melancholy. It makes your heart ache in your chest. He casts you one last glance but you keep your gaze down before he walks away, disappearing out of sight at the end of the street. 

With his piercing gaze off of you, you turn to the bag and begin rooting inside it. 

A couple bottles of water and some hybrid-safe packaged food. Nothing that needed refrigeration but also much better quality and variety than what you had been given by Simon. 

You remember how it felt to watch Soap eat delicious meats and fruits and veggies while you got bland, colorless slop. Sure, it was healthy for hybrids but everyone knew it was disgusting. Clearly Simon didn’t care – he was just feeding you so you didn’t inconvenience him by starving to death in his house. 

And though Soap would sometimes share his food with you, it wasn’t the same.

This food was yours. Kyle had gotten it for you.

You pull out one of the packages, a neatly wrapped sandwich with all the organic ingredients listed in bright colors. It makes your heart ache just a little bit as you take your first bite, all alone on the sidewalk, quietly wishing Soap was there for you to share it with as payment for all the food he had shared with you. 

Kyle makes it a habit to visit you day after day, sometimes bringing food, sometimes just bringing himself. Most of the time, you ignore him but he doesn’t seem deterred in the slightest, only quietly promising to visit you again soon when he bids you goodbye. 

It starts to become lonely when he leaves.

You don’t know when it begins, but you find yourself waiting for him. You sit out in the open, mindlessly combing your tail, where he can see you if he approaches. You find yourself thinking about him and if he’ll bring something for you to snack on – he found these delicious fish flavored chips that you were practically addicted to. Though, you didn’t say anything about your liking of them, he kept bringing them so you think he knows. 

Some days, Kyle’s visits were quick and fleeting and other times he sat there for a while. He had given up trying to talk to you much since you made it a point to ignore him but you were happy that he hadn’t given up yet. 

You know you would have given up by now. But the fact he persists leaves you with a warm, soft feeling in your chest. You’ve never had someone try so hard for you before, Simon certainly never cared to try.

Kyle wasn’t so bad after all, you found yourself deciding. He was quiet but not standoffish. He didn’t try to touch you after you had swiped at him one time when he went to pat your head. He was kind, always complimenting you with ‘pretty kitty’ and ‘sweet kitty’. And best of all, he didn’t ignore your existence like you had grown used to when living with Simon. 

Waiting for Kyle to show up became the most grueling part of your day. Minutes felt like hours and any tall man who passed by had you perking up to see if it was Kyle. The urge to get closer to him grew day by day, you wanted him to pet you, you wanted to talk to him. 

Maybe living with him wouldn’t be so bad after all. Just the thought of a happy life made you purr to yourself. 

You vowed that you would talk to him today, maybe see if you could take him up on that offer he had made that first day you met. 

But he never came. As the sun dips behind the horizon, you find your hopes getting squashed. He always came before dark. 

With a heavy heart, you curled up in the little cardboard box you had been calling your shelter. It was easy to tell yourself that the ache in your heart was because you wanted to see him and not because you were scared he had given up on you.

The next day, the same thing. You waited all day only for him to not show up. Then the next day. And the next. 

A week passed with no sign of him and you tried your best to pretend like it didn’t hurt like hell. 

Maybe he really had gotten sick of waiting for you and decided to find a hybrid who would actually talk to him. You couldn’t blame him, you suppose. But it still made that heavy pain settle in your heart like when you had been thrown out by Simon. 

One morning, you were awoken by a loud voice shouting down the alleyway, “Alright, come on out, cat.”

The sound of the voice had you sitting up, eyes wide as you looked around. At the entrance, a man stood with his hands on his hips, a hefty utility belt around his waist. 

He sighed when he saw you staring blankly at him before he came over, hoisting you up by the arm.

Your growled and hissed, ears pinned back as you fought against his grip. He dragged you out, taking you towards a big black van that had the words ‘hybrid-control’ printed on the side. 

You swiped at the man with your free hand, sharp nails slicing into his skin. He cried out in pain but didn’t relent in his hold.

“Stupid fucking cat,” he snapped, “Fuckin’ hate havin’ to pick shits like you up.”

“Excuse me,” a sudden, frantic voice called out, “What are you doing?”

The man holding you turned to look at Kyle, an annoyed look on his face, “Got a complaint about a stray hybrid livin’ around here. Came to pick it up.”

“Oh that’s not necessary,” Kyle said, reaching out to pull you from the man’s grasp, handling you much softer than the stranger, “This hybrid is mine.”

The man looked like he wanted to argue but glanced down at his bleeding arm and rolled his eyes, “Whatever, man. Your funeral. Just get it off the street.”

When the van drove off, Kyle turned to look at you apologetically, “Sorry, I didn’t want to claim ownership over you like that but–”

“Where were you this week?” you find yourself pouting, crossing your arms over your chest petulantly.

Kyle looks shocked before he smiles kindly, “I was away for work. I’m sorry I didn’t come to see you.”

Your pout only deepens, “It’s not like I missed you or anything…”

“Of course not,” he laughs but you both know he doesn’t believe you, “How about I show you my home, hm? It’s not too far from here.”

You agree without complaint, letting Kyle lead the way down the busy streets until it grows quieter and quieter.

The neighborhood is startlingly familiar as he escorts you to his home. It doesn’t take long for you to realize it’s the same neighborhood Simon and Soap live in. 

You weren’t exactly sure how far their home was but you couldn’t stop yourself from frowning at the memories.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, “Don’t like it? I know it’s a little boring here but it’s near the base so what can you do?”

“It’s not that,” you quickly said, considering telling Kyle what was on your mind but you instead settled for, “I-It’s nothing.”

You were worried if you told him about your previous home, he might think there was something wrong with you. You didn’t want him to think you were undesirable and put you out on the streets all over again. You silently wondered when you became so insecure. 

He hummed and opened the front door for you, “There’s a room at the end of the hall that’s an office right now but it’s all yours once I get it set up with a bed and everything.”

“My own room?” you ask softly, fluffy ears perked up.

“Of course,” he smiles, “This is your home now.”

You feel tears prick your eyes but you quickly look away before Kyle can see them. It felt so nice that he actually considered it your home too and not just his. Simon always made you feel like you were barely welcome and only there because he put up with you until he couldn’t stand you anymore.

“Oh before I forget,” he said, grabbing a box off of the table, “I got you this.”

He showed you the contents, a cute, dainty collar with a metal tag in the shape of a fish with your name engraved on it. 

“Why do you have a collar?” you asked, tilting your chin up so he could fasten it around your neck.

“I had hopes that you would let me take you home one of these days,” he laughed, a boyish, kind sound that made a smile grow on your own face, “I wasn’t going to give up until you were safe and sound with me, love. I knew this was going to be your home one way or another.”

You spend the whole day wandering around the house and exploring, nudging against every surface to spread your scent on it. You hadn’t done that much in Simon’s house, too scared you’d get reprimanded for dirtying up the furniture or something.

But Kyle didn’t care in the slightest. He simply smiled when he saw you nuzzling the pillows. He even trimmed your nails so they weren’t nearly as sharp anymore. 

It was nice living with him.You quickly realized how different your life felt with Kyle than how it felt with Simon.

Kyle was kind and friendly, calling you by your name and petnames and not just ‘hey you’ or ‘cat’. The affection in his tone was palpable and just hearing how sweetly he spoke to you made you purr uncontrollably. 

And he didn’t once raise his voice at you or chase you off the couch when you were napping. He gave you the softest pats on the head and let you snooze on his lap without a single complaint. 

He never forgot to feed you and always gave you the most delicious things he could find. He ate at the table with you and told you all about his day, making an effort to talk to you and learn about the things you liked to do while he was at work. 

You were happy to finally have a home to call your own. But deep down, you missed Soap. You missed his energetic happiness and how affectionate he was with you in a way that only hybrids could be. He was the only true companion you had ever had and he had left his mark on you. You wondered about him every day, especially when you heard the front door open and you half expected him to come running in with a thrilled grin on his face, ready to regale you with tales of outside.

You passed their house one day while on a walk with Kyle, something he took to doing as an activity with you (he didn’t want you to get bored or stagnant just sitting inside all day), trying your best to act like seeing the home you used to call your own didn’t make your heart ache painfully in your chest. 

“There’s a hybrid that lives here, you might like him. His name’s Soap,” Kyle said when he saw you pausing in front of their home, “Owner is Simon Riley. I work with him, kind of a standoffish guy, you should probably steer clear if you run into him. He’s not the most friendly.”

“Yeah…” you found yourself mumbling, barely even registering anything Kyle had said, a frown etched on your lips before you looked at Kyle, “Can we go home?”

“Of course. Let’s get you some food, pretty kitty,” Kyle cooed affectionately, patting your head before leading you back home. 

You casted a glance at the home you used to call your own, you were startled to see Soap standing in the window, eyes wide, brows furrowed, and hurt written all over his face. The sight alone made your own eyes sting. He had never looked at you like that before. He looked so heartbroken.

Kyle cooed softly to get your attention again, leading you down the sidewalk and away from the house. Soap’s figure in the window faded from view and you felt your head spinning.

Soap and Simon’s scent faded the further you got away from it. But once you entered your home with Kyle, your scent and his mixed together in a way that it never did with Simon’s. You couldn’t help but purr, the pain and anxiety in your heart fading.

But still, your mind lingered on the distraught face of the best friend you left behind.

do not modify or repost to third party sites. reblogs appreciated!

[rowarn]

first i would like to formally apologize.......also first time trying hybrid au so i humbly apologize if it's not as good as other people's!!! first time for everything and all that!!!

hybrid!au, angst, hurt/comfort but also hurt/no comfort, VERY mean!simon, cat hybrid!reader, dog hybrid!soap, owner!simon

part 2 !!

Simon who has retired from the military and decides to get himself a hybrid companion. Even though he doesn’t want to admit it – he’s grown lonely. He doesn’t have any family and all the socializing he did was in the military and he doesn’t have that anymore. So he decides to look into finding something to fill that gap in his life. 

Enters Soap – a young hybrid who once upon a time worked for the military just like Simon. The pup got injured in action and was forced to retire. 

Simon figures the two of them will fit together quite well. 

And he’s right! The two of them get along swimmingly. And it turns out Soap is very good for Simon. The endless energy the hybrid had (despite his injury) forces Simon to actually leave the house multiple times a day instead of hiding inside until he drives himself stir crazy. 

Now, he has to take Soap out for walks, runs, and even takes the hybrid to the park so he can run around with other hybrids and play catch with Simon. Soap LOVES it when Simon throws the ball as far and fast as he can so Soap has to spend several minutes hunting the little thing down. 

Simon actually finds himself feeling…happy. For the first time in a long time. 

Soap carves out a space in Simon’s life and the Brit is more than happy to let him take up as much space as he needs. He adores Soap. He knows the two of them are going to be companions for a long, long time. 

But then on a routine nightly walk, Soap freezes at the entrance to an alleyway, ears perked and alert as he hears something Simon can’t. His tail stops wagging and his blue eyes work to pierce unblinkingly into the inky depths of the alley. 

And that’s how they come across you; a skittish cat hybrid with no home to call your own.

Soap is ecstatic. His tail starts wagging so hard that it actually hurts when it hits Simon in the leg. 

The pup begs Simon to bring you home. He wants a hybrid friend of his own! Something ugly and dark works it’s way into his chest when he hears that – was he not enough for Soap like Soap was for him? 

He tries to tug Soap away by hooking his fingers into the leather collar around his neck but the hybrid doesn’t move, simply staring with a grin at where you sit on the ground in the alley. 

Simon doesn’t like cats. He doesn’t want a cat. And just seeing you makes him frown. 

When he finds that he can’t get Soap to move, he starts bargaining. He swears that they’ll look into finding a nice dog hybrid for Soap!! Stll, it doesn’t work. The dog hybrid has got his heart set on you for some reason. 

And that’s how you find yourself living in his home. And he’s not happy about it. 

You glare at him any time he has the audacity to walk into any room you happen to be in in his OWN damn house. It pisses him off. 

He doesn’t like you. And he makes it abundantly clear any time he sees you with the way his lips curl up in disgust. He shoos you away like you’re a nuisance even when you’re just lounging in the warmth of a sunbeam through the window. 

Where Soap eats borderline gourmet, he usually just slops some random low-quality hybrid food down for you. Sometimes, if he’s feeling particularly resentful, he doesn’t even let you eat at the table with him and Soap. 

But Soap adores you. The pup gets so excited to see you whenever he gets home from a walk or a day at the park. He hunts you down immediately wherever you may be just so he can excitedly tell you all about what happened outside – the birds he saw, the hybrids he played with, what he ate. 

And you listen intently. You’re not one for many words, Simon notes, but he often finds you muttering barely audible things to the other hybrids. You’ve never spoken a word to the human. 

Simon doesn’t know why that upsets him too – it’s not like he wants you to talk to him. He just thinks it’s disrespectful of you to ignore the man giving you food and a roof over your head. He also thinks it’s fucking disrespectful of you to steal his hybrids heart the way you have. 

The longer you’re there in his house, the more Simon hates you. Annoyance morphs into despising you. He’d have thrown you out back onto the streets by now if he could get away with it but when Soap wasn’t by his side, he was by yours. 

It ticks him off when he walks into a room and finds you purring happily with Soap curled up around you, big burly arms holding you snuggly against his chest as he snoozes. 

Simon didn’t even bother naming you, Soap’s the one who picked something to call you. Simon usually just gruffly calls you ‘cat’ if he needs to speak to you – which he makes it a point not to do very much. 

You still don’t speak to Simon. Even when he ‘forgets’ to feed you, you don’t say a word. You don’t complain or seek him out for something to eat. You just choose to starve. 

He wonders if you hate him as much as he despises you. 

And you and Soap remain the best of friends. The pup is always yapping happily to you and you’re always listening. 

As time passes, you even start to follow Soap around. It no longer seems like one-sided adoration. 

You love Soap, he brightens your day and makes you happy. You want to be around him all the time. You never thought you'd like a dog but Soap was just so sweet and kind that it was impossible to dislike him -- even when he ruthlessly kissed your face all over and pinned you down so you couldn't escape just so he could give you all the affection he wanted. You never got mad, never showed your claws (in fact, you were extra cautious of your claws with him). You slept with him whenever he wasn't busy snuggling with Simon -- and you'd never dare interrupt the two of them while they were having quality time together!!!

And that also makes Simon furious. Because Soap is his. How dare you have the audacity to think Soap is yours? Simon has put so much love and effort into his relationship with Soap and you prance in with your stupid fluffy tail and little purrs and you’ve got the dog-hybrid wrapped around your finger in no time. 

God, he hates you. 

It seems like everything comes to a head on a rainy day. The rain always makes Soap hurt, his old injury and joints act up. It leaves him docile and sometimes a little cranky. 

He had been a little short with you all day and that hurt. You already dealt with your owner, the man who took you in, refusing to show you any kindness, and now the one companion you had would barely look at you. 

It wasn’t your fault you didn’t know how much pain Soap suffered from. You loved the rainy night, it was perfect weather to snuggle up to your favorite hybrid and snooze away. 

You found Soap, sprawled on his back on the couch, eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed, you didn’t think anything of it. You crawled onto the couch, intending to snuggle in right beside him. 

But when you put the tiniest bit of your weight on him, his blue eyes popped open and a loud yelp erupted from his lips. You startled, hissing as your tail puffed up and fuzzy ears pinned back. 

Soap practically lept from the couch to get out from under your weight, hitting the floor with a loud thump that had him whimpering softly to himself, curling in on his side. 

Simon was storming into the living room not a half second later – finding his beloved pup curled up whimpering and shaking and you, ears pinned, tail puffed, and taking up the spot Soap once was. 

Simon didn’t care what had just happened – all he knew was what it looked like; like you had pushed the poor pup off. 

Because to him, that’s what cats were; vile, selfish, mean little shits. 

You were dragged to the door and tossed right out into the rain without a second thought. Before you could even get your wits about you, the door was slamming in your face and you were alone. You sat on the step for a long while, shivering from the cold rain soaking your thin clothes, just waiting for the door to open again. 

But before you knew it, the lights inside were turning off and you heard the front door’s deadbolt slide into place. And you were still outside, alone with nothing to your name but an old t-shirt that you had stolen from Soap. 

Simon hadn’t even bothered to get you clothes of your own. Or a collar like Soap’s – one with Simon’s name and number on the back. You had always wanted a collar like that but you knew Simon didn’t care about you enough to even consider you his own hybrid. 

You tried your best to stay out of his way and stay quiet and as small as possible so he wouldn’t grow angry or uncomfortable with you. You didn’t ask him for food when he forgot or get under his feet like Soap did. You tried your best to be good and hoped that someday the human would come around but as the days passed, you knew that it wouldn’t happen. You still did your best to not make trouble for him though. 

It seemed he was just waiting for an opportunity to get you out of his house. 

Your tummy growled, reminding you that you hadn’t been able to eat dinner yet. You stood from the front step and wandered down to the sidewalk, bare feet splashing in the puddles, taking a last glance at the now dark and still house you called home for many months. 

With your head hung low, you made your way back to familiar areas where you knew you could dig through trash to find at least something so you wouldn’t sleep hungry tonight. 

[ch3rrykoolaid]

😭🥺😭

[ceilidho]

prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 5; ghoap x reader) part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

-

Give him blood and he’ll give you something new to chew on.

Except that isn’t the way it goes. Not this time at least.

He tries to talk Ghost out of it, but it falls on deaf ears. Blatantly ignored. The car barrels down the motorway under the cloak of night, a swell of stars overhead as the city falls farther behind. Radio shut off. Johnny thinks if Ghost had his way, the radio would’ve been pulled out entirely, just wires and an empty, black cavity in the dashboard, but it’s a rental. 

And no one wants to deal with the paperwork involved in damaging military property. Not even Ghost.

Ghost won’t so much as glance over at him. Unaffected as ever, as if they didn’t just fuck. Johnny’s stomach hurts when he thinks about it. Even without her knowing, he’s broken his girl’s trust. Not for the first time; maybe not even the last. His guilt echoes not only that he let Ghost make him come, but that he liked it—that the buzz in his bones says do it again, please god, again, please let me come, I need to come, touch me, please—

He thinks about his girl, then turns to Ghost again.

In the pit of his stomach, Johnny knows this is wrong. In his rational mind, he knows it. If he were in a better place, he wants to think that he’d make a real attempt to change Ghost’s mind, maybe get him to turn around at the next gas station, but he can’t deny the excitement bubbling in his belly at the prospect of seeing his girl again after a week of nothing. 

The silence has been eating away at him. Bits of his brain flaking away, moth-eaten. Checking his phone again and again to no new messages, getting the same voicemail message whenever he calls. Something flutters high in his chest, an itch he can’t scratch; it tells him to take off in the middle of the night, drive all the way back home and pound on her door until she’s forced to answer it, forced to talk to him face to face.

Again and again, he tries looking at it from her perspective—tries to empathize with her. What he would’ve done in her shoes had she allowed a coworker to grab his dick in front of a crowd of strangers. It’s more than fair, he thinks. His own shame leaks out of his pores in the middle of the night, sleeping on top of the covers because he sweats right through the sheets. 

And yet, he keeps butting up against his own anger. Talk it out with me, yell at me, he growls into her voicemail, anger growing as the days pass one by one. 

It’s the road that alerts him to their arrival into the city more than anything. More cracks in the asphalt, the car rattling over sewer depressions and potholes in a way that says home sweet home. Usually it’s a source of comfort, like seeing the silver lining on grey clouds or the iridescence in an oil spill, purples and greens catching the light. Not now. Now the road winds like descending into the underworld, each turn coming with a sinking feeling. 

They park down the road from the flower shop, tucked just out of sight. A cool breeze wafts over his hot face when he steps out of the car. It nearly rocks him back. When he glances up, his heart stutters at the sight of her bedroom window, sealed tight now. Only cracked open during their sleepovers, when Johnny runs a bit too hot at night for them to sleep comfortably with the window closed. 

“Should I…do ye want me to give her a call to wake her up?” Johnny asks tentatively, shutting the car door softly so as not to make a noise. 

Ghost shakes his head. “We’ll let ourselves in.”

Johnny’s picked hundreds of locks in his time; he’s jimmied open doors with crowbars, set up explosive charges, used a good old fashioned ram from time to time—no stranger to the trade—but it feels decidedly uncomfortable with Ghost at his back, staring down at him as he breaks into his own girlfriend’s apartment. 

“This is a bad idea,” he grumbles, turning the pick in the lock until he hears a familiar click inside. 

Ghost doesn’t answer, just raps his knuckles against the back of Johnny’s head. A silent get a move on. 

Her apartment looks the same but different when they enter it. His muscles remember the layout though. The pink couch in the living room with two dimpled pillows on either side, the footstool by the door, the stand with her shoes all piled in neat little rows, the vase on her kitchen island with a fresh new bundle of flowers, fragrant when he dips his head to take a whiff. He’s loved flowers ever since meeting his girl. 

Ghost doesn’t try to muffle his footsteps for once. He rummages through her cabinets and drawers with all the finesse of a first time burglar looking to get caught. It smacks of intentionality. Johnny’s worked with him too many times in the field to know that if Ghost wanted to disappear into the darkness, he would. He’d be the thing creeping silently through the shadows, tread lighter than air, close enough to touch but never see. 

So it’s more than deliberate when he noisily shuts a drawer. Baiting her out. 

It’s no surprise when Johnny hears her creep around the corner from out of her bedroom. He’s tucked in the shadows of the living room, just out of the light, so he sees her first when she comes silently down the hall, whole body trembling with fear, the bat she keeps beside her bed drawn over a shoulder. Even her hands shake around the grip.

Of course she yelps when Johnny says her name, stepping out of the shadows, swinging wild. He winces when the bat smashes into a lamp, shattering it on impact. 

“Fuck!” she screams, scurrying backwards into the wall behind her. Several framed pictures rattle against the wall, nearly knocked off their hooks. 

“Noisy, isn’t she?” Ghost grumbles from the kitchen, tossing a bored glance over, unbothered by the commotion. He undoubtedly heard her creeping down the hall as well. 

“What the fuck?” she gasps, chest heaving when she breathes. Her eyes dart from Johnny to Ghost’s massive form in the other room. Poor nervous thing. She must recognize Johnny’s voice saying her name even through the panic because her lips droop in a frown, more confused than petrified.

“Hen, it’s jus’ us—nothing to worry about,” Johnny coos, hands stretched out in front of him to show he means no harm. 

It gets her to lower the bat, but only just, the slightest dip that has him darting forward to pry it gently from her hands. The ceramic shards on the floor will have to be swept up later, but he’s relieved that at least she didn’t step on any of them. 

Up close, she’s just as pretty as he remembers. Pretty as pie. How could she not be? In the glow of youth still, not like it's been a decade since they last spoke face to face—only a little over a week. A sight for sore eyes, even though Johnny’s narrow when he stares down at her and thinks about the week of his texts and calls going unanswered. His jaw undulates, rage held back by the thin thread of her scent that wafts under his nose, making him lean into her. 

Breathe in and out. 

“Us?” she repeats, brow furrowing.

She glances over at Ghost again, the man still ambling around the kitchen, at home in her little one bedroom apartment like he visits her frequently. Like it’s his as well. 

“Aye…Ghost wanted to come—Simon wanted to apologize…for the other day,” Johnny explains. 

“You broke into my apartment in the middle of the night…so Simon could apologize for sexually harassing me?” she says, the disbelief smacking in her words. 

“Hen, it's no' nice to say it like that—” 

“No time like the present,” Ghost says, not ashamed in the slightest. “Heard you weren’t taking Johnny’s calls. Might not’ve had to do this if you’d picked up.” 

Johnny doesn’t believe a word of that, but there’s no reason to call him out on it now. 

He can see her wrestle with a trifecta of emotions competing for first place. Anger, embarrassment, and then, a smidge of worry holding up the rear. Aware of the fact that she woke up to two grown men, one practically a stranger, breaking into her apartment under the guise of having a conversation. His heart aches at the thought. The lion’s share of the blame rests with him, but still it’s her that suffers for it. 

“You…you shouldn’t be here,” she rasps, flinching when Johnny lays a hand on her waist, towering over where she’s still cowered against the wall. Bat gone now, defenceless. Her pupils narrow to a pinprick. He almost tuts, poor thing. Scared out of her wits. 

It feels so good to touch her though. Soft and yielding. 

“‘Was Simon’s idea, hen, but, ah—” his breathing picks up when his fingers tighten on her waist and she squirms “—I was goin’ crazy thinkin’ ye were pissed for what happened last week. Couldnae get a wink of sleep—kept closin’ my eyes and seein’ your face. Nearly broke me.”

“I am pissed at you,” she snaps, temper getting the better of her.

“I ken, I ken,” Johnny coos, ducking his head until his lips graze her temple. “Simon’s sorry—we came all the way here so he could tell ye to your face, but fuck, hen, I’m sorry too—shoulda said something instead of standin’ there like a fuckin’ dolt—”

“You should’ve,” she interrupts, still fuming mad, an iceberg melting right in front of them. It makes his cock pulse.

“—Aye, hen, I’ve no excuse, none at all. Shoulda told Simon to fuck off and keep his hands to himself—”

“Careful, Johnny,” Ghost says warningly, finally stepping into the living room. He fills out the archway imposingly, almost forced to twist his body on an angle to step in. 

Her eyes cut over to Ghost, narrowing, lips pursing. Johnny’s heart jumps in his chest. It’s one thing to see his girl again in the flesh, but to see her all righteous and on the verge of an argument—he could bend her over the back of the couch now, sink into the plush, delicate folds of her pussy, reacquaint himself with deep, languid thrusts. Heaven after not getting his cock wet in a week.

He flinches when he thinks about the last person to touch his dick. 

“So you’re sorry?” she says to Ghost, her disbelief clear. Difficult to see why she wouldn’t find it hard to believe that the man that shamelessly grabbed her ass in broad daylight in front of a group of his colleagues and her boyfriend would now choose to apologize. 

Johnny knows the answer is no when he sees the way Ghost’s eyes rove over her body, taking stock of her little cotton pajamas and her bare feet curling against the cold floor. Ghost tilts his head to the side, eyes travelling back up to meet hers. “Sure I am, bird. Don’t I look sorry?”

Neither of them answer that. Arguing with Ghost feels different, like inviting in danger. Moving too suddenly in front of a hungry dog, jowls loose and salivating for a bite. 

He takes a step closer. “Complete pillock, wasn’t I? And now Johnny’s getting the silent treatment ‘cause of it. Just couldn’t bear another second of him moping around base on the verge of tears.” 

Johnny frowns at that. His girl frowns too, but there’s something more to it. He wouldn’t blame her for not accepting Simon’s apology, if he could even call it that—nothing about it rings sincere, more like words spoken softly to call a kitty over—but questioning it feels worse somehow. Like detonating a bomb at two thousand feet above ground. 

“…Okay,” she says instead, voice trembling a little. “Apology accepted. You guys can go home now.”

“Bird’s forgiving, huh, Johnny?” 

Johnny preens despite himself. “Aye. She’s a good girl, Lt. Told ye so.”

Ghost nods. “That’s right. A good girl who’s gonna let us make it up to her ‘til we have to report back in forty-eight hours.”

“Wait, you can’t—” she starts, then cuts herself off when Ghost’s eyes flash.

He can’t help the way he shudders at the helpless look on her face. Downturned eyebrows, pretty lips slack with disbelief, just the slightest hint of a whine building in her throat that dies when it dawns on her that nothing short of calling the cops will make the two of them leave. 

And she’s a good girl—would never call the cops on him. His perfect girl. Sweet as pie. 

Johnny falls in love a little bit more when she presses her squeezed fists against her eyes and exhales. “Fine. I’m too—I’m going back to bed. We can talk about this in the morning.”

Ghost doesn’t react to her acceptance. It’s taken as a simple fact of nature—he says something and it happens. He speaks the world into being. 

“I’ll take the couch,” he grunts, finally sitting down to unlace his boots. He looks comically large on her little couch—it’s more than likely that his feet will hang off the end, if not everything from the knee down. 

Johnny already figured as much. No point in them driving all the way back to base when they both have the next two days off duty and there’s a perfectly serviceable couch for Ghost and the other half of her bed for him. He thought they’d have to convince her a bit more or strong arm her into it (a putrid thought; he’d rather have sweet talked her into the idea), but his girl always manages to surprise him in the best way. 

On that thought, he looks over his shoulder towards the bedroom door, cock throbbing again at the thought of getting to hold his girl’s body against his. Touch starved dog. Mangy mutt, tongue lolling out at even the possibility of a pet. 

Ghost must notice the object of his gaze because he sets him straight. “You can take the floor, Johnny.” 

His tone brooks no argument. When Johnny whirls around, the words already on his tongue, she’s my girl, I’ve already slept in that bed ten times over, the sight of Ghost’s bare face, the mask now off, dangling in his hand like some scrap of fabric, makes him lose his train of thought. It’s not often he’s granted the luxury of seeing Ghost’s face—wide, clean shaven jaw, buzzed blond hair, old burn marks like a half-moon around his eye, nasty old scar slicing through his lips—and to see it now, here, makes something in him give. 

Saturnine man with a wolf’s appetite. Ravenous. 

It burns him that his girl looks slightly relieved at having the bed to herself. Irks him. Makes his jaw clench on a mean remark, half tempted to spit out something cross. Just because things have gotten complicated, now he’s not welcome in her bed? After the week he’s spent toiling, trying to make amends? Pleading desperately over the phone, stewing in guilt and heartache—Johnny knows she’s a good girl, but if he finds out that she’s replaced him with someone else in the week since they last saw each other—

Even the thought makes him see red.

He watches her as she turns around to retreat back to bed, more than a little displeased. 

“Give Johnny a little kiss before bed, why don’t you, bird?” Ghost lightly suggests. Not a suggestion. 

She freezes mid-turn. His expression dares her to put up a fuss. Johnny again nearly clucks his tongue, troubled on her behalf. Her spitfire nature is snuffed out easily under that stare. Grown men with experience in the field wither under Ghost’s stare. It’s no weakness of hers that she acquiesces time and again to his demands, glancing up at Johnny from under her eyelashes before shuffling over, pressing the lightest of kisses to his cheek. 

“Better than that,” Ghost grunts, unimpressed. 

His poor darling. Humiliated now. No skin off his back though. Johnny’s heart pumps double time when she presses her lips to his; soft petals that spread when he slips his tongue into her mouth, too eager after a week of nothing. Touch starved. Desperate to sink into her, lap his tongue over her lips and the roof of her mouth and press her jaw open to spit messily in her mouth. Take it, hen, every piece of me.

She rips her lips from his and dances away when he tries to get his hands on her, eyes wide, casting one last glance over at Ghost before hightailing it back to her room. 

He barely resists going after her. Only Ghost’s stare roots him in place; his voice in Johnny’s head that rumbles, heel. I’ll tell you when to go.

He still doesn’t know what it says about him that he angles himself towards it. Bows his head to it. Moth to a flame that shocks him to the bone when he touches it.

Ghost tosses him the second pillow from the other end of the couch and takes the only blanket for himself. No matter. Johnny’s bivouacked on snowy cliff sides, chilblains blistering his toes for weeks; nights spent camped in torrential downpours, his tent on the verge of collapsing; windswept baysides chilling him to the bone. He can handle a pillow on a hardwood floor. 

The ebb and flux of an ocean in his ear, and then Ghost’s voice from the couch: “I’ll take first watch.”

Whole body falling loose as if snipping a cord tethering him to the world. 

“I’ll clean up the lamp in the morning,” he mumbles, vision already blurring. Ghost hums low in his throat.

He falls asleep with Ghost’s voice in his head, his girl’s taste still in his mouth.

[ch3rrykoolaid]

🫶🫶🫶

[luneraboo-deactivated20250204]

I am making so many “hey mutuals!” posts but this one is serious and it applies to everyone who sees this post actually. PLEASE REBLOG.

I just had to block someone with this flag as their pfp -

For those who don’t know, this is the MAP pride flag. This flag represents pedophiles.

Please reblog so people know that they are not welcome anywhere. Mutuals I BETTER see y’all reblogging this

[hvnlyuzuha]

GOJO AS A SINGLE FATHER

gojo x black child! reader

fluff, angst kinda… maybe idk

summary: headcanons about gojo becoming a single father

word count: unknown/ too lazy to find out

warnings: ummm ig kinda child abandonment, implied mentions of comas, also unedited

notes: i might be make this a series but idk. it is also a fem! reader

pt 2

gojo is canonically a whore

so i’m sorry to say you were most definitely the product of a one nightstand

probably the classic left on the doorstep bit. you were around four months old.

at first he’d deny it

“this can’t be my kid! i’m too lucky. i’m only 23 for god’s sake. this has to be some sort of prank.”

he paced around until he heard giggles. he saw you, with your white small Afro and crystal blue eyes staring at him

“of course ur laughing.”

you stuck your tongue out at him

he was like “yeah, she’s my kid.”

the next day after all the paperwork to make you his official daughter, he took you to see megumi

“what the hell is this?” was the first thing you heard from megumi

“you see, this is what we call a baby.”

“I KNOW WHAT A BABY IS!”

but overall megumi looks at you like a baby sister

tsumiki adores you and definitely babysits you with megumi

she loves to do your hair in different styles like the classic puffs, or twist with beads at the end

so cute

you were very upset when tsumiki had to “go away for a while”

back to gojo

he’s not good with responsibility, and a child was a huge one

“alexa! how do i change a diaper?”

nanami was a huge help

“gojo you shouldn’t hold a child like that-“

“she’s five months old you can’t feed her solids!”

shoko is also a huge help and a mother figure

she’s loves to get you anything that she thinks you might like

but your a baby and babies like almost anything

she quit smoking to be a better example for you but she started again

when you got a bit older like four/five gojo would start really spoiling you

like you ask for something boom you get it

gojo tried to baby proof before... let’s say he had to rent a hotel room while his house got repaired

gojo isn’t the greatest cook. after all he grew up in a clan with maids and stuff so he never really cooked before. but when you came along he himself wanted to make you meals. he burned rice

“daddy, the rice taste nasty.”

“it taste fine, princess.” *cue him eating some and almost barfing*

“okay yeah. we’ll get take takeout.”

“YAYYY!”

when you met nobara and itadori you were five

or ‘noba’ and ‘dori’ to you

can you imagine these two with a five year old?

pure chaos

a lot of sugar rushes

itadori probably had to get his stomach pumped

poor megumi is just trying to keep y’all alive

getting back on topic now

gojo often had to go on missions for long periods of time

so he often leaves you at the college or with Nanami or with the second years

you looked up to maki

you even have matching fake glasses

she taught you how to use a staff

you and toge have deep conversations about useless things

and panda gives you endless piggyback rides

when gojo comes back from his mission prepared to be extra spoiled

when it comes down to hair, he is surprisingly good at it

he has spent most of his free time watching YouTube videos to figure how to do your hair

now he can do puffs, braids, twists, and he can almost do cornrows

you are the best dressed baby ever

gojo gets clothes custom made and you can’t convince me otherwise

a lot of matching clothes

like those corny ass ones like “the greatest dad” and “the greatest daughter” type shit

overall gojo is a great father and is learning as he goes

[drumshoww]

PSA: YOU ARE LOVED AND YOU ARE WORTHY OF LOVE, ALWAYS

[ch3rrykoolaid]

Remember guys — It doesn’t take much to be a hero, just be nice😊