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zephyrchama · 1 month

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Living together in a big house with one (main) (shared) bathroom means that mornings can be tough.

When you first arrived at the House of Lamentation, it was hard to fit in. It was really hard to get into the bathroom in the mornings and fight six demons for use of the sink. If more than two others were in there at the same time, they practically formed a living wall that blocked you out, forcing you to wake up extremely early or risk being late for school.

That got better over time though. You gradually managed to fit into the house's morning routine.

---

Lucifer has his morning routine down to an exact science. Usually he's fully dressed and has his hair brushed before leaving the bedroom. He might be running on pure muscle memory though - one time you handed him a warm washcloth for his face and he just stared at it in confusion for several seconds with a furrowed brow. He has no problems getting it himself, but this break in routine gave him pause. It took Lucifer a moment to realize what it was and to thank you.

If you get the chance to eat breakfast together, Lucifer likes to ask about your day. "What do you have planned? Remember, we have that meeting at five. Did you prepare for the ancient hex exam?" He might slide a bit of his food onto your plate before he goes, a way of returning the pleasant energy boost you always provide for him.

---

Mammon can hustle. Which means that Mammon can get up early if it benefits him in some way. A part time job, an early bird discount, a chance to slip past Lucifer's defenses and borrow some cash.

That doesn't mean it's easy. Waking up takes some serious effort. Mammon will stumble into the bathroom to do his business first thing in the morning, yawning with his eyes half closed and tugging up whatever pants he just tossed on for modesty.

The tsundere part of his brain takes a few minutes to kick in if he's just woken up. If he spots you, Mammon will demand a good morning hug and wrap his arms around you, deaf to your cries of "Mammon! Go wash your hands before you touch me!"

---

Leviathan is always groaning in the morning. He's probably not aware of it. He's probably muttering complaints but is too tired to actually speak the words properly. His blankets are always a tangled mess, wrapped unevenly around his feet and contorted around his body, but Leviathan can easily Houdini his way out of them when it's time to get up. If there's no event or livestream to wake up early for, he'll sleep in for as long as he can before starting the day with a nice shower.

He finds warm running water to feel so pleasant and you can often find Leviathan spacing out next to the faucet. He'll greet you with a sleepy "ah, morning," and accidentally splash you in an attempt to wave his hand. The embarrassment and slight panic from getting you a towel to dry off with is usually enough to properly wake him up, and he sheepishly exits the bathroom and guards the door until you've finished changing into dry clothes.

---

Satan can hardly even put his shirt on properly when fully awake.

The man's a sleepy mess when he tries to get dressed in the morning. He'll stay up all night to finish a book he's invested in, then stumble out of his room "ready to go" when it's time for breakfast. His pants are unzipped and the button is coming undone. He's only got one sleeve on and it's on the wrong arm, or the buttons on his shirt are all misaligned and half have been skipped over.

He doesn't protest anymore when you tidy him up. Some mornings he'll doze off while you straighten his tie and fall forward into you, then try to play it off as a hug. Satan doesn't want to let go though, you feel so much warmer on a chilly morning.

---

Asmodeus is a rare morning riser. Too much sleep is bad for the skin, he claims. If he has trouble getting up, he'll either go soak in his private tub for energy or seek you out.

"You have to hear what happened last night," he'll say, strolling into your room while there's still ten minutes left on your alarm. He sits on the edge of your bed, and if you try falling back asleep he pulls you up into a sitting position. "Listen to this, you won't believe it!"

Asmodeus isn't afraid to get touchy if it means you'll wake up faster and he gets your attention. He'll sit you in his lap, or press you against his side, or run his hands down your face and squish your cheeks with a mischievous smile.

When the main bathroom is too crowded to use you're free to borrow his, with the caveat he gets to style you for the day and you might be late when he gets overzealous.

---

Beelzebub can also be found awake in the mornings. The quiet hours before everyone else wakes up are best for stretching, taking jogs, and grabbing a pre-breakfast appetizer. He'll get spooked if he hears footsteps approach the kitchen and slam the fridge door shut in a hurry, but all is well when he sees you enter the room instead of Lucifer.

Beelzebub is a big guy who takes up a lot of space. When you run into each other in the bathroom and are rushing to get ready, it's easy to bump into him. On days he's still pretty tired, he might not even notice you bonk your head against his arm. That's fine though - you don't want him to notice you until he's brushed his teeth. After all, Beelzebub's morning breath is a potent magical weapon.

If you need the bathroom sink while he occupies it, Beelzebub is kind enough to nudge you in front of him (once you've confirmed his mouth is minty fresh). You both get to use the mirror this way, and you can both see each other's smiling faces.

---

Belphegor is the king of oversleeping. The powers of you and his twin combined are hardly enough on some days, but mostly the responsibility of waking him falls to you. You quickly learned it's best to wake him from behind his head, if you can manage to maneuver your way into a suitable spot to do so. Anywhere his limbs can easily grab you will result in being pulled into bed. He's like a sleeping kraken.

You suspect that Belphegor wakes up easier than he lets on, but he feigns ignorance. He insists he was totally fast asleep when you struggled to physically drag him down the hallway towards the bathroom, wrapping your arms tightly around his torso with all your strength. And when he clung on to your waist and nuzzled his head into your stomach. And when Beel came to help free you from Belphegor's clutches, but he rolled you under him and muttered "mine now."

Definitely fast asleep, doesn't remember a single thing.

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demigods-posts · 5 months

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all that i need is for percabeth to be in a situation where the only way they can make it out alive is if one of them can win over a group of monsters by telling a captivating and convincing love story. and it's just annabeth very dramatically and humorously reciting the first five books of the pjo series from her perspective. and the monsters are just eating it tf up. and percy's just facepalming so hard.

#annabeth: so then...i kissed him! 😤#*monsters cheering*#annabeth: and then i had to hear him be burned alive and mourn him for two weeks 😫#*monsters sreaming and crying*#annabeth: only for him to.crash his own funeral and reveal he was stranded on an island with a different girl😡#*monsters boo-ing and cussing percy out*#it's almost identical to that scene in frozen 2 when olaf retells the first movie to the group of people #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo text post #pjo headcanon #percy jackson #annabeth chase #percabeth #percabeth headcanon #percabeth fluff #percabeth fanfic #percabeth textposts

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coryosbaby · 4 months

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SENSITIVE . Luke Castellan x fem! Reader

Content warning . Broken bones and submissive Luke <3

Whenever someone uses a word to describe Luke Castellan, it’s always this: strong.

He’s the greatest swordsman in camp, after all. He puffs out his chest and slathers his aura in pride, outdoing every opponent.

Except for when it comes to you.

He’s— well, Luke is a sensitive boy. No one knows that, of course, except for you.

He shows his true self, now, on a rainy night in your cabin. Many campers have gone to dinner, and Luke had decided to stay back with you, curled up in your bed.

“(Y/N),” he whines, as you finish your night routine with a drastic slowness. “It hurts.”

You almost roll your eyes at your boyfriend’s antics as you lather on a bit of moisturizer. After a long trip and fall down a flight of stairs—ironic, really, considering his stealthiness— the boy had broken his hand. A small cast is wrapped around it, little phrases that you and other peers had written into it rainbow in color.

“You’re being dramatic.”

His lips form into a pout.

“‘M not,” he replies. His unbroken hand pats the empty spot beside him. “Come here, baby. I miss you.”

You can’t help the tug in your chest at his sweet tone. You do the last steps of your routine, sighing as you move out of your vanity chair and slide onto your silky pink sheets.

“C’mere, you big baby.”

He grins, pressing a kiss to your cheek as you bring him into your embrace, letting him wrap his big arms around you.

“You smell nice,” he compliments, humming. “Like a pretty flower.”

You giggle. His fingers move up to play with your hair.

“And your hair is so pretty. I love it. And your eyes…”

“Are you saying this because you feel sentimental, or because you want me to make out with you?”

“Both.”

You scoff, pulling him in for a kiss. He reciprocates eagerly, and before you know it his tongue slides warm and wet into your mouth. His hand moves up to your tits, softly groping.

And when you look down, you realize why he’s so clingy. A small smirk spreads across your lips.

“I think you need a little bit of help, sweet boy.”

His cheeks, a dusty pink, turn even darker now. You take in the sight of the large bulge straining against his zipper. He lets out a nervous chuckle, though it doesn’t do much to stifle his nerves. His broken hand still stays trembling underneath your own.

“You don’t have to,” he replies, averting his gaze from you. “I’m not.. I mean.. I can’t—”

“I know.”

You don’t need to say anything else. Your palm splays out over his hardened cock, and he whines, a tiny breathless thing in the back of his throat that makes your panties soak with wetness.

“Mommy,” he utters. “I need your hands,” And then, bordering on a choked sob, “Please? I’ll be good, I swear…”

Oh, it’s so easy to get him worked up. So, so incredibly easy.

You hum, flicking the zipper of his jeans up and down playfully. His brunette locks are turned up and disheveled, and it’s the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen.

“Poor baby. It’s been a long time since you’ve touched yourself, hasn’t it ? Four, maybe five days?”

That was the last time he had fucked you, the day he had broken his hand. Your schedules were both so busy that neither of you had time to do anything since. Luke’s eyebrows press together, and a pout forms on his lips as he nods in confirmation. You press a kiss to his jaw, then another. He’s wearing the cologne you like, and a shirt you had once said looked particularly good on him. He had made his way into your room asking for this, you’re sure. He was asking to get all worked up and get you to handle it.

He just wants mommy’s attention, doesn’t he?

You pull his fly down, much to his excitement, a “thank you” falling sweetly off of his soft lips. Pushing his underwear down, his hardened cock slaps up to its fullest attention against his stomach. His balls are drawn up tight above the fabric of his briefs, full and ready to be emptied.

Oh, how worked up the poor thing is. Wet like a girl, cock dripping pre cum and the tip flushed an almost deep scarlett. He’s well endowed, much to your pleasure.

Giving his tip a teasing flick with two of your fingers, you watch as his eyes shut tight and he moans. It sounds precious, a choir full of angels singing. You wish you could hear it over and over again.

He isn’t looking at you, now, and that makes you annoyed. Your hand slaps his length and he lets out a pained yelp.

“Eyes on me. Do you understand?”

His bottom lip wobbles. A sensitive boy he is, despite his usually hard and cold demeanor, and his mommy’s disapproval makes him want to cry. He nods, his teary eyes staring deep into your own as you spit into your palm and take him into your hand.

You start by thumbing over his tip, rubbing softly into his slit. Watching his breathing increase and the way his head tilts back is absolutely enticing.

“Is that good, baby?” You ask softly. He nods eagerly, his hand shaking in his lap. He tries not to clench his broken fist together but that proves difficult, and he lets out a pained cry when he presses down on it. You coo to him, almost mocking, as you snake your arm behind his back and take the cast into your free hand.

“Don’t hurt yourself, okay? Just hold on to me,” your voice is a purr in the shell of his ear. “Need my boy big and strong again.”

“Yeah,” he breathes out, his voice high pitched and whiny. “Yeah, mommy, yeah…”

Your hand wraps around the fullness of his length, twisting with a flick of your wrist. His forehead bumps against yours as his open mouth tries to land on your lips. You think he’s trying to kiss you, and it’s absolutely endearing. He can’t help but desperately shove his tongue into the warm confines of your mouth. You giggle at that, pulling him in for a sloppy, wet kiss.

When your lips leave his, it’s so you can bite and suckle pretty marks onto his neck. You lave over the reddish bites, humming as you cover his throat in them.

Other women at camp, be damned. He’s yours.

It isn’t long, with a gasping mouth and fluttering lashes, that he’s close.

“I’m gonna cum,” Luke murmurs, sugary sweet. “I’m g-gonna… momma, momma..”

He buries his face in your neck, salty tears pressing into your skin, and his cock spurts rope after rope of warm, sticky spend all over your hand. You watch with a smile, pressing a kiss into his hair as he fucks his hips up and mewls against you. Your heart flutters at the sound, your body on fire just from watching him come undone.

He sighs when you milk the last few remnants of cum from his spent cock. His curls stick to his forehead, sweat dripping down his brow. What a sight.

You find Luke’s shirt somewhere on the floor and wipe your hand on it. His nose crinkles up.

“That’s gross.”

Rolling your eyes and trying not to smile, you sit down beside him again.

“It’s your mess, Luke.”

He shrugs, his hand going up to push your hair out of your face. He gives you a pretty, lopsided smile. You kiss the scar underneath his eye, and his eyes cloud over again.

Always so sensitive.

He lays down on the bed, signaling you over. His lips find yours again, chaste but still nice, and when he’s using free hand to make you straddle his face, a gasp emits from you.

“Luke. It’s okay, you don’t have to.”

“Want to,” he murmurs, sliding your panties to the side. “You took care of me, momma. Let me take care of you.”

:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry @princesstiti14 @aerangi

#bunny writes ͟͟͞☆#why is this the most tame shit I’ve wrote in weeks #Luke Castellan #Luke Castellan x reader #Luke Castellan x fem! reader #Luke Castellan smut #Luke Castellan fanfic #Luke Castellan blurb #Luke Castellan Drabble #sub! Luke Castellan #dom! reader #Luke pjo #pjo #Percy Jackson #Percy Jackson fanfic #Percy Jackson series #Percy Jackson show #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson and the lightning thief

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urfavleo777 · 6 months

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Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, oral (m receiving), choking, hair pulling, fluff.

It was an October evening. The sun had long since set, causing all the streetlights to go out. Now, the moonlight shining through the window was the only light you could use to continue reading your favorite book.

Accompanied by the sound of rain, you devoured the pages of The Picture of Dorian Gray. With a sigh, you turned the next page. You were getting close to the end, which made you even more sadder. Your weak spot was your attachment to books and some people.

Specifically to one person.

“Baby?“ Your boyfriend's voice caught your attention. You put the book on the bedside table and bit your lip at the sight of your boyfriend standing in only his lovely pink pajama pants. “Are you still reading?”

“Oh..“ you sighed softly, completely dazed.

"Whoa, you alright?" Colby looked down at you, concerned on his face, "Y/n."

You shake your head slightly, "Yeah." You stand up straight, "You just.." You found a more comfortable position, "Look so beautiful tonight"

“Only tonight?” he laughed brilliantly, moving closer to the bed. Then he lay down and took you in his arms, giving you a tender kiss on your forehead. You immediately forgot about the plot of the book that you were reading eagerly just moments ago.

You gently brushed his hair away and planted a kiss on his bare shoulder, only realizing you'd tickled him when you heard a small, muffled laugh come from the crook of your neck where Colby was resting his head.

During that quiet intimate moment the only sounds that could be heard in the room were your breaths and the sound of your kisses.

“Have I interrupted you in anything?“ he murmured dreamily, after a while.

“No, I was just reading.” You denied it immediately.

"I love you." He muttered as he gently pulled away from him, after some moments, and you cupped his face in your hands after tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. “We can continue, if you want.”

“Continue what?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Reading your book.” He replied with embarrassment.

"My sweet, smart boy." You laughed before placing a soft kiss on his lips. "I love you too. And sure, we can continue reading my beloved Dorian Gray.”

“Oh.” He clutched his heart dramatically.

A smile appeared on your face. “Are you jealous because of a fictional character?”

He pretended to feel offended, making you laugh again. Just as he was about to answer, the loud sound of thunder interrupted him. You flinched unexpectedly.

Now he was the one laughing. You huffed in mock outrage.

“My little girl is afraid of thunderstorms?” He gently ran his fingers through your hair’s. “Let me take care of you properly, love.”

You nodded and tried not to smile too wide when you leaned in to kiss him.

You do a whole lot more than just kiss him, though. You open his mouth with your own and lick inside with a confident tongue. You take the breath from his lungs with little effort, leaving him more breathless than he has been all night.

“Wanna suck you off,” you murmured, slurred and muffled against his mouth.

Colby breathed out a laugh, one mixed with amusement and disbelief. “I rarely know this side of you, babe.” He told you, smoothing wide palms up and down your arms.

“Do you want a blowjob or not?”

“Well, yeah, but I—”

“Good,” you hummed with a smile before sinking to your knees in front of him. You unbuttoned his pants and free his half-hard cock from the confines of his pants. You tugged at the hem of his underwear until his heavy balls hang over the plaid fabric.

Finally you decided to have mercy on him as you flattened your tongue against his dick, deciding to follow the vein from his base to his tip. Colby let out a high-pitched whine followed by a "thank you", but you didn’t really care. Yes, it felt good for him, but this was also for your pleasure. You swirled your tongue around his leaking tip, tasting the salty essen.

“Jesus fucking christ— you’re so pretty, baby— fuck.” He tilted his head back, gripping the sheets. “Fuck, please baby. Don't stop.”

You smiled up at the wrecked man, the man begging for you to continue. You could feel the light pressure of his hand against your head trying to push you closer to his groin.

“Can I kiss you?” He surprised himself as the question had left his mouth.

“Please.” you whined with desperation, making Colby groan as his lips found yours in a frenzy.

Your fingers slowly trailed down, finally wrapping your dainty hand around the sheer girth and length that was Colby’s cock.

Another unashamed whimper fell from between his pretty lips.

“That feels good, baby?” You murmured into his mouth between the smacks that echoed off the walls.

“Fuck, yeah mhm, it does.” He rushed out awkwardly, making you giggle into the kiss.

You took him back into your mouth, but that time without mercy as you relaxed your throat, slowly moving down inch by delicious inch as you tried not to gag, his tip now bullying your uvula like his own personal punching bag.

You fucked his aching cock into your throat, bobbing your head up and down, over and over.

“I need your cock so bad Colby.” You moaned.

“Use me, please. J-just fuck, just use me pretty girl.” Colby whimpered.

“Yes, sir.” You whispered into his ear before placing a gentle kiss there. You turned around, hand grabbing onto his still hard cock, you lower yourself into his lap, pink tip already prodding at your hole as your back became flush with his chest, you lay your head back against his shoulder and burrowed it into his neck, both of you moaning in unison as you sink onto him, slowly.

He was so big it was like he was ripping you in half, but you welcomed the burn. The pleasure and pain of it all made your cunt drip even more, further creating less pain and a whole lot more pleasure.

“Shit, you’re so wet and so fucking warm, baby.” Colby huffed.

You wailed as your legs begin to shake, your cunt clenching around him as your nails digging into his thighs that continue to slap up into the backs of yours.

“Colby– I’m cumming, oh my god!” You sobbed, when the most intense pleasure was coursing through your body, turning you into a twitching mess.

“Fuck, me too baby, wher-” He didn’t even get to finish, before you were begging him to cum inside you. Of course he obliged, eyes rolling back into his head and cock throbbing as his heavy load shot deep inside you.

“Goddammit.” He whispered into your neck.

The intensity of the moment consumed you, as he poured every ounce of himself into you, leaving you both utterly spent and satisfied. You both were breathless and drenched in perspiration, your legs entwined with his.

The storm seemed to be going away, the quiet rumbling was barely audible. All of a sudden the street lights came back up. Colby chuckled and sighed.

“So, you still want to read that book of yours again?”

#colby brock #colby brock smut #colby brock fanfic #sam golbach x reader #sam golbach smut #sam and colby smut #colby brock x reader #sam and colby #colby brock fanfiction #hell week #colby brock x y/n #colby brock x you #colby brock fluff #sam golbach #colby brock imagine

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konigbabe · 11 months

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PERISH

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x gn!reader Word count: 1.6k Tags/warnings: no y/n; manga spoilers (post Shibuya timeline); canon-compliant; angst; death; emotional breakdown; hurt/no comfort; loss; grief Summary: For the first time in a long time, Satoru Gojo, the epitome of strength, breaks. Happy start of JJKS2 writing week.

event masterlist • masterlist • navigation • faq • AO3 • ko-fi

November 2018 8 minutes until Satoru Gojo’s unsealing

"Don’t worry, I’ll make it on time. I’m right behind the corner."

"We can wait," Yuji’s voice carries through the car, the static of the Bluetooth speaker occasionally cracking.

It feels like years have passed since you last saw him. Sealed away in the prison realm, Gojo’s state remains a mystery. There’s no telling how being locked in a place where time and space don’t exist can affect even the strongest minds.

That’s what worries you. What if he’ll break? What if he goes crazy on all of you? What if he explodes; wipes you all out with his technique? An endless sea of ‘what if’ swirls inside your mind as you take another turn, the mountains on your left with an ocean view on your right.

"Don’t," you reassure the youngster, "don’t wait any longer."

"You should be here, though," Megumi jumps into the conversation, "You’re closest to that idiot. He’ll want to see you."

His words draw a smile on your lips. It’s finally happening. The sleepless nights are coming to an end with the arrival of your lover.

"Then I’ll just opt for a dramatic entrance while you keep him busy," you respond before tightening your hands on the wheel. A familiar feeling washes over you; sudden knowledge of a new presence. Heart picking up, your eyes search the road for the source while the car’s speed slowly drops.

32 seconds; that’s how long it takes you to locate the source. A curse spirit manifestation stands in the middle of the road, blocking you. Its small hunched build stands a mere meter above the ground; four arms decorated by translucent fins hanging by its body, the prehnite skin glistening in the last rays of today’s sun, giving off a wet, moist appearance.

"Boys," you announce, stopping Yuji’s and Megumi’s bickering while still keeping up the cheerful, light voice in an attempt to not raise suspicions about your current predicament, "don’t wait any longer. Unseal Satoru and stop worrying ‘bout me. It’ll be fine."

Bringing the car to a slow halt, Yuji’s tone shifts into a more attentive one as your name seeps through the speaker before you hang up after one more reassurance.

As you step out of the vehicle, the curse's malevolence engulfs the air, almost tangible in its intensity. It clings to the atmosphere like a poisonous fog, penetrating your senses with a pungent sulfuric odor that threatens to overwhelm you.

Your hand slips inside your jacket to retrieve a carefully preserved seal, reserved for such precarious situations; just like this one.

"I’m sorry," with every footfall, the curse seems to shrink in size, yet its malicious nature grows stronger, the smell of sulfur almost suffocating, "but I’m in a hurry right now and you," pointing the parchment paper towards the spirit, "are in my way."

Swift and precise, your movements carry an aura of practiced precision. With little effort, you firmly press the seal upon the spirit's head, causing it to stumble momentarily before dissipating into thin air, vanquished by the power contained within the sigil.

Yet, the energy lingers.

Stronger than before. Stronger than a second ago. Its absent defense, non-existent attempt to fight or flee…it all makes sense now —

A powerful grip; a strong hand adorned with talons as keen as the finest blades dig into your shoulder as an inhuman force pushes you to the side.

As you're thrust aside, your vision catches a subtle glimmer of chrysolite, a hue that seeps into your perception; its scales are sturdy, each edge honed to a dangerous sharpness. Driven by instinct and the will to protect yourself, you reach out, your hand making contact with the curse spirit’s scaly hide.

The jagged edges of its scales cut into the delicate flesh of your fingers, leaving trails of crimson in their wake.

— it was a decoy.

Your body collides with the unforgiving side of the mountain, back meeting the rough and unyielding surface. A symphony of pain resonates within your bones, their structural integrity compromised as multiple cracks reverberate through your form.

Gasping for breath, your body instinctively seeks solace, but find none amidst the terrain. The curse doesn’t wait either. Swiftly moving forward, it lunges at you. Unforgiving. With a clear intent to strike. To kill.

During Satoru Gojo’s unsealing

There is no pain. The moment the curse’s hand breaches the barrier of your chest, you expect it. Expect some kind of visceral reaction. But there’s none — a gentle pinch, akin to a fleeting touch when the sharp claws first pierce through the protective layers of your breastplate. A slight discomfort upon the feeling of having a foreign object that’s found its place within the confines of your ribs. The barrier of your rib cage offers minimal resistance, yielding to the relentless advance that seeks to reach the very core of your being. The heart.

It all feels confusing.

"Kenjaku sends his regards," it whispers, the words slurred by the razor-sharp fangs that protrude from its mouth.

October 31, 2018 — 8:09 PM

"What’s the worst that can happen?"

Satoru saunters around the corner of the table, his presence punctuated by the audible slurping of juice from a small cartoon container. All while your palms rest on top of the said furniture, fingernails tapping at the surface.

The news has spread fast through the jujutsu community, faster than wildfire. Whispers of an unknown curtain cast around Shibuya an hour ago, trapping all non-sorcerers, innocent civilians, inside its insidious grasp with only one demand: Bring Satoru Gojo.

"Don’t say it like that, Satoru," you turn to face the man whose casual and dismissive demeanor only adds fuel to the worries setting inside your bones.

"They’re a bunch of curses," his hand finds its place on your hip bone while placing the empty container away, "Some special grades, yeah, but they’re weak compared to me. I’ll deal with them, save some people in the meantime, and bam," he snaps his fingers loudly, "We can go home. Get that sunset date you’ve been babbling about. Life is good," he finishes with a kiss on the crown of your head.

Life is good.

You watch the sun dip below the horizon behind the curse spirit’s back, indulging the sinister being in a halo glow.

Yeah. In the end, life was good.

2 hours and 48 minutes after Satoru Gojo’s unsealing

For a moment, he stands still. Unable to look down; frozen in time. The weight of it all seems to bear down upon his shoulders – now that Sukuna’s taken over Megumi’s body, Nanami’s and Yaga’s death, Suguru’s body being used as a vessel, the slow crumbling fall of the Jujutsu world – and now you; being gone.

Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer of the current time. Yet even his immense power proves futile as the people he loves keep dying on him…because of him.

A burden that threatens to crush him beneath its insurmountable gravity.

The air around him hangs heavy with sorrow, as if the very essence of grief has manifested itself in the atmosphere. A storm of emotions swirls within him; a combination of disbelief, anguish and a gnawing ache that gnashes at the core of his being.

He clenches his fists, fingers trembling with a mixture of sorrow and determination. In that agonizing moment, he finds the strength to finally lower his gaze, to confront the devastating truth that lies at his feet.

Everyone holds their breaths, the weight of his misery echoing in the silence as his eyes meet the lifeless visage of the one he holds dearest.

Of you.

Hand reaching out, his fingers graze the once-soft flesh of your hand; now cold and stiff. It serves as a confirmation of reality. There’s no getting you back, no way Shoko can nurture you back to health with her technique.

You’re gone.

And in that harrowing instant, the façade crumbles. The walls he built to contain his pain come crashing down, and Satoru Gojo, the epitome of strength, breaks.

Crumbling down on his knees, the vulnerability that spills forth from his broken form is raw and unrestrained. Only a handful of those closest to him stand behind to witness the symphony of torment that pierces the silence. Tears stream down his face, each drop carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken words, moments you two could’ve spent together.

One hand covering his mouth to silence the guttural sounds, the other reaches out to you, tenderly cradling your lifeless head upon his lap. He clings to the fragile hope that if he could provide just enough warmth and love, you might return to him.

Yuji looks around the room, at the people who silently observe their friend fall apart. Taking a step towards the hunched man, a soft grasp stops him mid step; Kiyotaka shakes his head, pushing his glasses back in place as Shoko looks down. For the first time, she’s unable to figure out her classmate, her childhood friend, the man whose side she’s always stayed by.

"Gojo," Yuji doesn’t allow Kiyotaka to stop him. Believing in what’s right, he stands behind his teacher’s back.

Hand laying on the tense muscle of his shoulder, he doesn’t attempt to comfort Satoru with any words — no words in this universe would bring you back anyway. Instead, his hand just rests there. Unmoving. Gentle.

"Who did it," his words cause Shoko to look back up as Satoru, stone-faced and stoic, speaks in a firm, devoid voice. Imagines of unspeakable horror flashes in his mind as he stands up, towering over the wide-eyed Yuji.

"Tell me now," his eyes search Kiyotaka’s, voice filled with undeniable authority, "I’ll kill them, kill them all."

#fun fact this is the first time I’m actually writing death and mourning #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo angst #gojo fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk angst #gojo satoru angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x you #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #moni writes #moni's writing week #jjk writing week #angst

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gurugirl · 4 months

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Can We Start Over?

Series Summary: From the first day you and Harry meet, your relationship is beyond complicated. A one night stand leads to hurt feelings and then a job opportunity that you simply can't pass up is offered. But can you handle working for a man like him?

A/N: This will be a 5 part series, commissioned by @justfattiethings (thank you so much my dear!!). This is an enemies to lovers story with a twist. Reader is plus sized 🖤 I'll update chapter summaries as we get further into the series (I don't want to give too much away!).

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, angst, cheating mentions

Part 1: The Winter Ball (10k words)

part 1 sneak peek

You meet Harry at your boss's retirement party and your night ends with a bang.

Part 2: The Job Offer (9k words)

You can't stop thinking about what happened the night you met Harry and how much you hate him. But then you get some really good news about a new job. Except there's a catch.

Part 3: The Mistake (9.5k words)

Things are a little hot and cold with Harry but then when you learn the truth about what happened that first night it feels like everything changes. But maybe it's a mistake to allow yourself to feel anything more for him.

Part 4: The Exit Strategy (9K words)

part 4 sneak peek

It's hard for Harry to overcome not feeling a bit hurt after you left him the way you did but there are bigger issues you need to tackle, like the fact that Harry's doing something shady as well as figuring out how you feel about him.

Part 5: The Coincidence (12.7k words)

part 5 sneak peek

Things have changed for you and Harry but when you see him at a meeting, you are taken by surprise. It feels like destiny. Maybe this time things will work out for you two.

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aliengirl99 · 8 months

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Fic of the week

I'll be recommending one of my favorite fanfics once or twice a week. This week's is;

A sterek soulmates au, the hale fire never happened, and Scott and Stiles are brothers. Remember to read the tags yourself.

Enjoy!

#fanfic #fanfic of the week #sterek #teen wolf #fanfiction #recommendation #fanfic recommendation

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cats-aroace · 1 year

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i just read Outrun my gun by Thraced on AO3 its a dean winchester / castiel fanfiction and this quote i swear just stuck with me it was so cute but sad.

"Your soul is so bright, Dean. You can't see it but I can. Sometimes it's all I can do to look at you. The Reaper almost caught you on that road because when I first saw you all I could do was stare. I didn't know your soul was supposed to be so bright."

#dean winchester #castiel #destiel #time travel #fanfic of the week #fanfiction #ao3 #outrun my gun by thraced

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childlikegoblinqueen · 6 months

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Commission by the amazing @astrolavas !!!!

Hunter and Gus taking Raine to a Weird Al show. Tickets? Check. Hawaiian Shirts? Check.

Raine has NO CLUE what they are in for.

One Shot Fan Fic below.

My MySpace Page is all totally pimped out! Got people begging for my top 8 spaces!

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bluejeanstrash · 8 months

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it’s 1:23 am when seungcheol realises you’re no longer in bed with him. even though he’s got his back turned to you, there’s this gnawing feeling of something missing that stirs him awake.

he turns to see the empty space; sheets still warm with traces of you. he then turns back around to check what the time is, feeling his eyelids go heavy as he dozes off, phone still in hand.

it’s 2:02 am when seungcheol wakes up again, the phone falling from his grip, hitting the carpeted floor. he jolts awake, sitting up to see you’re still gone.

‘babe?’ he calls out to a silent apartment. he tries your name next to no answer. he’s worried now — a growing anxiety fills his chest as he rushes out of bed.

‘baby?’ he checks the bathrooms first. then the other bedroom. the kitchen next. and as he’s walking across the living room, he sees your silhouette on the couch.

he rushes over, turning on the lamp behind you as a soft orange hue illuminates the room and your face along with it. you look awful. the colour’s drained from your face and your hair’s all matted — sticking to your forehead, and somehow you’re sweating and shivering all at once.

‘what the..’ he brings the back of his hand to your forehead, gently pressing it to your skin. he checks your cheeks next, and finally your throbbing neck ‘you’re burning!’

‘why didn’t you wake me up!’

‘you have schedule’ you mumble as he frowns, getting upset.

‘that doesn’t matter. don’t do that again’ he scolds, immediately softening his tone when you let out a weak cough.

‘have you taken your temperature yet?’ you nod, turning your head to the digital thermometer sitting on the table.

‘okay. let me take it again’ he gives the thermometer a shake before wiping it down.

you open your mouth as he places it under your tongue seeing the temperature rise till it finally stops at a worrying 101°F.

‘hmmn..’ he chews on his lower lip ‘we’ll keep an eye on it’

what felt warm a second ago is now cold as you shiver, feeling a sudden chill. seungcheol pulls the blanket up, tucking in your sweaty body tighter.

‘what about medicine? did you take anything?’ his one hand now tenderly stroking your hair as you shake your head no.

you had tried but looking for medicine was a pretty heavy ask when the room was spinning with every step so you decided to just lie down instead.

‘okay!’ he gets up with a determined sigh, any sleepiness long gone. now seungcheol’s in complete caretaker mode with his only objective to make you feel better.

through the haze of the fever, you can hear him pottering around, moving from room to room — there are sounds of water being poured and drawers being opened, rummaged through, and shut.

he returns around 5 minutes later, hands full.

‘you need to take medicine, okay? wait, baby, have you eaten?’ you shake your head again.

‘no, you need to eat something first’

‘i’m too tired’

he insists on something small, disappearing into the kitchen and coming back with a pack of biscuits — not the good kind, but the boring digestive ones that will fill you up a little more.

‘come on, let’s sit up’ you groan, feeling the room spin as he helps you up.

‘two biscuits. that’s it. open’

you open your mouth letting him feed it to you.

‘bite’ and you do — crumbs falling on your blanket which he promptly brushes away. ‘one more bite’ and you follow the instructions till two are done and dusted away.

‘one more’

‘i already had two!’

‘and now we’ll have one more’

you groan a no.

‘come on. just one more. for me’ you let him have his way, too tired to fight, falling back down immediately as you take the last bite.

‘now medicine’ he pulls you back up, handing over a pill and glass of water as you take it through half-shut eyes, resting against his body for a second.

‘good job. now we can lie down again'

after you're tucked back in, he sits on the floor next to you, wringing and then bringing a cool damp cloth to your burning forehead.

‘that feels nice’ it does. like a cool breeze on a hot day.

‘yeah? good’ he smiles, one hand gently stroking your hair back.

‘go to sleep’ you mumble ‘i’ll be fine. thank you’

‘i’ll sleep once you do’ he says firmly, hand still on your hair.

you're still dizzy but the steady strokes of seungcheol’s hand on you is a constant comfort. it takes around 10 minutes till you’re asleep.

he finally gets up, kissing his fingers and then planting that kiss to your forehead.

he heads into the bedroom, grabbing his stuff to come lay down on the floor beside you.

it’s 3:07 am when seungcheol falls back asleep, making sure he’s right where he belongs — next to you.

#i started writing weeks ago in the middle of being sick #which is also why i haven’t written in so long i’ve been sick and i apologise #seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol #seungcheol fluff #scoups #scoups x reader #seungcheol imagine #scoups fluff #scoups drabble #seungcheol drabble #seungcheol x you #scoups x you #svt fanfic

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lefttoesucker · 14 days

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When you're a traumatized dead man but all your teammates see you as is a loser emo edgelord 😔

Few months later:

The mug reference for those who don't know

The existence of this mug is haunting me since middle school

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yourdoorisunlocked · 3 months

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What A Dish, What A Doll! - Part 1

𝐀/𝐍: This was originally supposed to be pretty dark, but my mind clearly had other plans since I ended up writing a fluffy little fic about our favorite radio man lmao. I’ll probably write up the angstier fic, too, if this one does well.

Also, the Reader is AFAB, since that’s what I’m comfortable writing for as a girl myself.

. . .

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟐,𝟏𝟏𝟓 𝐍𝐨 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

. . .

The door to Alastor’s manor creaked open for you, and with a grin you took the spare key he gave you from the lock and swung the door fully open to push yourself inside in an attempt to escape from the late winter chill.

It was a late January night, meaning the serene moonlight washed over the snowy landscape as early as 5:00 P.M., making it dangerous for a lady like yourself to be wandering the streets of New Orleans late at night.

But it had been months since you really had to worry about anything like that, since you had Alastor by your side to look out for you. Such a sweetheart to you, and a bit of a mama’s boy, too, judging by the pictures set atop the mantle just above the unlit fireplace.

The mere thought of your ever-enthusiastic smiling companion made you especially giddy as you kicked off your winter boots and shrugged your coat off your shoulders, placing it upon the antler-adorned coat rack and skipping past the staircase into the living room.

Flopping on the couch, you reached over for the radio while cuddling up with a blanket, excited to hear the well-awaited voice of the man who had altered the direction of your life – undoubtedly for the better – and you were practically kicking your feet like a flustered schoolgirl who had received your first confession as Alastor’s voice rang through the small device, loud and clear for you to hear.

“Good evening, New Orleans!” You couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiastic announcer’s voice that he normally used for his radio show, and the first time the two of you had met.

Though, Alastor was more relaxed around you nowadays, seeing no need to keep up the too-cheery facade his listeners had renowned and adored him for. You cherished moments when he was simply relaxed, content with a close-lipped smile and sitting beside you, whether it be reading, playing the piano with you, occasionally even pulling you into a spontaneous dance.

As you listened practically through the entire thing, you began to silently fantasize about your unpredictable yet darling radio host.

“Well, I’m afraid that’s all the time I have tonight, folks! I should be going, now. It's rather bad form to keep my doll waiting at home for me~,” He finished with a soft chuckle.

Blood rushed to your cheeks at that last little comment, practically cursing Alastor for his cheekiness, and he knew that you listened to his shows whenever you could.

"The au-diddly-dacity of that man..."

“Thank you for tuning in! See you next time~...”

The radio returned to static for a few seconds, before a jaunty little tune began to play through the speakers, and it just so happened to be one of your personal favorites, one that you, no matter what mood, nor what you were doing, couldn't help but jump up and dance to.

And, of course, Alastor knew you loved it.

You sighed with content as you relaxed into his couch cushions, sinking into the blanket that Alastor had laid out for you since he'd found you constantly falling asleep to his voice on the radio when he returned home from work.

A pang of guilt thundered against your chest as your heart strained at the stinging reminder of how much of a burden you really were to Alastor. He was a good man, who helped you out when you were in a tough spot, you should at least repay the favor, right?

I should at least do something nice for him... He's been so good to me, even inviting me over for dinner more times than I can count.

He was the one who offered me that job at the radio station, hell, he even let me off early so I could listen to his show!

With a huff, and a newfound sense of energy, you got to work around the house, tidying up and lighting the fireplace, sparking a candle or two, and keeping the radio playing all throughout the thirty minutes you had spent cleaning, imagining the look on Alastor’s face when he returned.

You had even started on dinner, making a nice pot of venison soup, since it seemed to be his favorite.

You pushed down the swell in your chest when you heard the doorbell ring, excitedly rushing over to a mirror and sweeping across your face and hair, making sure everything about you was in perfect shape.

You opened the door, craning your neck a good amount to make eye contact with dark chocolate eyes staring down at you intently, almost illuminated in the moonlight, set against smooth caramel skin beneath a fluff of mocha brown hair.

“Hel-!”

Alastor’s usual smile was smacked clean off his face at the sight of you standing before him, apron tied across your skirt with a few stains upon it, hair slightly amess but clearly put together.

"-Lo... My dear, what is the meaning of this?..." His tone seemed cheerful enough, if a bit bewildered as his eyes scanned your form once more, stopping upon the apron once again before returning his gaze to yours.

You looked so painfully, so heart throbbingly domestic that it nearly gave him a heart attack when he first opened the door. Such a submissive nature fed into other... primal desires of his that he wasn't fully prepared to delve into.

You smiled sheepishly up at him. "Why don't you come in? I've already started dinner," Alastor's trademark smile quirked his lips upward as he suddenly took your arm and headed inside, practically glowing as he headed straight for the kitchen.

"Oh, no, mister, you stay right there," you winked down at the radio host as you pulled him into a chair. "You've been working so late, let me handle dinner."

You truly piqued Alastor's interest when a familiar scent wafted past his nose, and he eyed you with surprise as you worked in the kitchen, pouring a hot, thick broth from the pot into a small bowl.

As you headed towards him, he tried his best not to absolutely melt in his seat as you served him with a smile, and he carefully took the steaming bowl from your hands.

Venison, hm? Well don’t mind if I-

AN: You know that one scene in Ratatouille where that critic takes a bite of his dish, and gets a flashback to when his mom used to cook for him? Imagine that but with Alastor.

“Is it good?” Your soft, almost worried voice brought him back to reality, and as he met your hopeful, imploring gaze, Alastor nearly choked on his food as heat crept up to his cheeks, burning against his face and ears.

For just a moment, I thought I saw...

With wide eyes, you rushed over to him with a napkin, patting his back and looking over him with concern as his coughing ceased, and he took the cloth with a grateful, slightly wobbly smile.

“Was it really that bad...?” Your confidence wavered slightly as you stared down at Alastor, realizing the sudden proximity as electricity raced up your spine and lit your cheeks aflame.

Half-lidded cocoa-brown eyes searched the very depths of your soul, before he shook his head and murmured, "No, quite the opposite. I'm... I'm actually quite thankful for this, tonight." Though, it couldn't have come at a worse possible time, when he was finally squashing any sort of emotions he felt for you into the dirt, only for you to make them froth and rise to the surface yet again.

Why, he hadn't realized how long it had been since anyone had done anything like this for him!

Ah, his dear mama...

He recalled the last dish she ever made for him. Her house-famous Jambalaya that he had adored so much. It even managed to put his father in a good mood.

"A-Al? Alastor? Are you alright...?"

He hadn't even noticed that tears were streaming down his slim cheeks until he felt small droplets falling upon his lap.

"Oh, nothing. This... This all just reminded me of someone..." He shook his head and took his circle-rimmed glasses off his pointed nose, rubbing the fogginess off the glass as the gears turned in your head.

You raised an eyebrow. "Who...?" You then caught a glimpse of the photos set above fireplace just past the couch that faced away from the kitchen. Of course!

Immediate regret washed over you as you fretted over Alastor, apologizing meekly as you attempted to clean up the soup in front of him, but you were stopped as he gripped your wrist.

"I'm so sorry! I never meant to be such a burden, I just really wanted to do something nice for you, s-since you're always-"

"No, please, this has been a delightful surprise, darling." You froze at the pet name, heat creeping over your cheeks and tinging your ears a bright pink as Alastor released his grip upon your hand.

"You have never, never felt like a burden to me. I promise you that," he slid his hand from your wrist to your hand in an act of comfort, but it only served to make your face glow even redder.

"Now I'd like to finish the dinner you made for me. If you don't mind, of course," his usual cheekiness had returned when he spotted your slightly flustered face, and you nodded and returned to your seat promptly.

Alastor, being ever the chatterbox, resurrected the flowing conversation between you two for a good hour, as he recalled stories from his childhood, keeping you entertained throughout your dinner. Your laughter filled the hallway, your smile both wounding and freeing his heart, while you sat, mesmerized at his captivating storytelling and how he spoke with his hands, practically alight as he drank in each expression you gave him.

"Would you care for a dance, darling?" Alastor spoke up suddenly, the contents of his bowl completely gone as you eyed it. You shyly agreed as he smiled gently and pulled you into the living room.

Soft caramel brown hands wrapped around yours as Alastor's slender fingers held you close in a surprisingly tight grip against him, and you could feel the rise and fall of his chest, along with his rapidly beating heart despite his suave demeanor as he slowly danced along with you to one of the songs that had begun playing on the radio beside the fireplace.

Nothing but your dear friend's soft humming along with the sounds of the radio filled the silence between you in the moment, and you began to relax in his grip as you lazily kept up with his slow steps.

Put your head on my shoulder~

A slow dance between you two, with an occasional twirl as Alastor nearly swept you off your feet swept the minutes away, until the moon was well past the horizon and twilight fell upon the sky.

As he spun you around once more, a sudden gust of air swept past the pair of you, nearly blowing out the candle beside you.

Hold me in your arms, baby...

Alastor's eyes widened at the sight of a petite, elderly woman standing beside the doorway into the kitchen, watching the two of you intently, until her form faded from the door with a shimmer of light and a gentle smile.

Squeeze me oh-so tight, show me...

He gulped softly at the sight of the angel while you stared into his eyes, completely fixated upon his surprised open-mouthed stare as his gaze flickered from behind you to your lips.

You barely missed his darkening expression as you both began to sway slowly once again.

Show me, that you love me, too~...

"Would you like to stay the night, darling?" For the first time in his life, Alastor seemed unsure, maybe even nervous, as his dark brows creased together and his charming smile twitched at the corners of his lips. You smiled and reached up to smooth out the crease with your fingers.

You had no idea how he warred with himself, knowing that he'd be practically signing his soul away simply to be in your company.

Put your lips next to mine, dear~...

But... Perhaps this would be worth it.

Perhaps moments like these, when time slowed, where you both could block out the rest of the world and simply bask in each other's company would be worth the risk.

Won't you kiss me once, baby~?

Alastor had decided, right then and there as you stared up at him with nothing but adoration.

He'd have you. He had to. He was damned either way, but he'd storm the pearly gates themselves if he failed to drag you down with him.

Just a kiss goodnight, maybe...?

But, with immense relief, Alastor realized wouldn't take much persuasion as your eyes seemed to twinkle beside the flickering candlelight, and a gentle yet teasing smile played at your lips.

You and I will fall in love...

"Yes, I'd like that very much, Alastor."

. . .

𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Okay, I KNOW that 'Put Your Head On My Shoulder' was released in the 50s, BUT LET'S PRETEND IT WAS THE 20s, OKAY???

Anyway, I really enjoyed writing this first post, I might write a part two if the people want one. Maybe Alastor headcanons?? Who knows...

Let's just see how far this goes lmao.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #fluff #alastor x reader #alastor the radio demon #fanfic #writing #very inaccurate 1920s representation #this man is my new hyperfixation for the next couple of weeks so buckle up lmao #I will never shut up about alastor istg #expect more slow dancing scenes with him #it's like 12 am rn ya'll 💀#yourdoorisunlocked

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urfavleo777 · 6 months

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WARNINGS: smoking, closeness, kisses, bad vocabulary, fluff.

you find comfort in colby after breaking up with your boyfriend.

"I don't remember the last time I saw you like this, kiddo."

You flinched, not from the wind, but from the hoarse voice of your friend Colby, who was standing behind you. Standing on the balcony in just a T-shirt and jeans would give you a cold, but at that moment, that was your last concern. Before you turned around, you sniffled, trying to disguise the fact that you had just shed a sea of tears.

He gently placed his free hand around the lighter, trying to shield it from the wind. A faint smile covered your lips as you watched him concentrate on it.

"When will you finally quit smoking, Colby?" you whispered, choking on your tears.

"I don't know, you tell me" he sighed out the smoke from his mouth as well and looked at you, arching his eyebrow.

"I still think you should quit." You said softly, turning your head towards Colby who, standing next to you, was leaning back against the railing. He looked down at the night skyline of the city. Such sights were not uncommon for him since he became so popular. He probably spent the night in places you never even dreamed of. You had been friends for seven years, but you never let him take you with them. Maybe it was because your ex-boyfriend, who just two hours ago was the love of your life, was seething with jealousy whenever you spent time in Colby's presence.

"What will you give me if I do?"

He took another long drag from his cigarette before exhaling into the crisp air. You watched the smoke disintegrate into the air as he placed his cigarette back between his finger. Not hearing your answer, his lips curled up into a smirk before he spoke.

"You want to try, don't you?" he asked making you nod slowly.

You've always been against any kind of stimulants, but that day you had to relieve yourself somehow. Cigarettes turned out to be the perfect solution.

He turned his body towards you before wrapping his arm around your waist. Your breath hitched and his cold bare chest rested against yours. His cigarette was held in his left hand and your body in his right. He looked down at you before explaining what to do.

"Just inhale, hold it for a second then let it go" he said making you nod again.

Your fingers lifted up and reached for the cigarette before you realized that he was bringing it to his mouth instead of yours. Okay, maybe he was showing you what to do. He took a smaller drag from the cigarette than his past before lowering the cigarette down. Before you could even reach to grab it, his lips pressed into yours.

You gasped at his kiss, making him breath all the smoke into your mouth and have it go down to you lungs. He pulled back a little to watch as you kept your mouth closed tightly. The smoke had filled your entire chest and was beginning to make you suffocate.

"Y/n, exhale" he said.

You opened your mouth and let all the smoke escape from your lungs. He smirked and closed his eyes as all the smoke had been hitting his face. You began coughing as the smoke was caught up in your lungs. His hand patted your back before you finally gained control of your breathing.

"Did you like it?" he asked with a smile playing on his lips.

"Never doing this again." You said making him laugh out into the air.

His hands tighten around your back and he brought your forehead to his lips to give you a small peck. You gasped slightly making him pull back and realize what he was doing. His hand un-wrapped itself around your waist as his cheeks were tinted red.

"Glad you two broke up. I've always had an urge to punch him in his fucking face."

It seemed he decided not to mince his words.

You rubbed your eyes with your hands, realizing that your makeup was probably smudged. You shuddered once again as you felt the wind on your skin. Colby noticed this, pulling you closer to him. He lowered his voice, trying to be as gentle as possible.

"I'm sorry, baby. He clearly wasn't good for you."

You thought you were about to fall asleep standing up. His touch soothed you, making all your worries go away. You wanted to stay like this forever, in his arms, on the balcony, with the accompaniment of passing cars and the full moon in the sky.

You've been blind all this time. You were looking for happiness and entertainment in pathetic men, not knowing that you didn't have to look at all, because the perfect one was literally at your fingertips.

And his name was Colby Brock.

#colby brock #colby brock fluff #colby brock smut #hell week #sam and colby #sam golbach #colby brock fanfic #sam and colby smut #sam golbach smut #sam golbach x reader #sam golbach x colby brock #colby brock masterlist #colby brock imagine #colby brock x reader #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock x y/n #colby brock x you #sam golbach x you #sam and colby x reader

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