Chapters: 2/?
Fandom: Ao no Exorcist | Blue Exorcist
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Okumura Rin & Okumura Yukio
Characters: Okumura Yukio, Okumura Rin
Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Mystery, Aged-Up Character(s), major spoilers for chapter 139 and 140 of the manga, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, descriptions of blood and violence, Time Travel, Character Death, Murder, Slice of Life, sort of a case fic, with angst, Fluff, hand wavy space time whatever, food and other love languages, and a hopeful ending
Summary:
A cold case Shiro once investigated is assigned to Rin nearly twenty years later. The toll of missing exorcists is rising, yet it’s a case ridden with corruption and unspoken secrets.
An unidentified, high-level demon appears at the airport— wielding a sword Yukio knows.
He sinks to one knee, leaning close enough for a few strands of his bangs to graze Yukio’s forehead. There is no warmth in his eyes, yet the lack of it is haunting.
“Two years is a long time. A lot can change.”
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thinking of hanma who doesn’t tolerate people talking back to him, but when it’s you he’s grinning from ear to ear. sometimes you think he’s insane when you’re arguing and you’re clearly pissed and he tells you “slap me if it makes you feel better,” and he means it. he wants you to use him when you’re mad at him, loves watching you huff and puff at him like he doesn’t kill people for a living.
you’re still mad at him and you’re riding his face in a way that’s supposed to feel like a punishment to him. but fuck, his cock is hard and tight in his pants, and his hands are gripping your ass cheeks while helping you stay down on his tongue. you grind on his mouth, use his face to get off and he moans. he fucking moans because it feels so good to have his pretty baby on his tongue like this.
“i can’t believe you. fucking enjoying this more than me,” you’re still pissed, but you’re panting and hanma can tell you’re holding back moans as you ride his face. of course he’s enjoying it. hanma shuji would go to the moon and beyond to make sure his pretty baby was satisfied and happy with him.
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Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!
"What flowers do you like?"
Wriothesley asks one day, trying to seem nonchalant. Trying to make it look not as obvious that he's already mentally running through a list of Fontanian florists.
But you hm to yourself, frowning. "I... don't know. I've never really received flowers before," you say with a shrug, acting like it's no big deal. Wriothesley, though, has to catch himself before he drops the pen in his hand.
"Never?" He asks with wide eyes, head snapping in your direction, jaw dropping the slightest bit. "None of your past relationships ever got you flowers?"
You shake your head, not really bothered by the fact, and although you're nonchalant about it, Wriothesley immediately feels the gears in his head turn. That mental list of florists runs through his mind at double the speed. His finger absently taps on the wood of his desk, mind racing as he does some rough estimations. Unaware and unsuspecting, you merely go back to perusing the books in his office, running your hands over their worn spines, oblivious to the clench in Wriothesley's jaw and the determined glint in his eye.
A week later, and Wriothesley returns from the surface with a bouquet in his hands. It's nothing too big or ostentatious— that's not really his style. Instead, it's simple in its beauty and easy on the eyes. All sorts of flowers have been included, even ones not native to Fontaine. Cecilias from Mondstadt, Glaze Lillies and Qingxin from Liyue, Padisarahs from Sumeru, and even Fluorescent Flowers from Inazuma's Chinju forest, among others. All arranged by hands more skilled and talent more honed than he could ever hope to achieve.
Wriothesley knocks on your door, heart stuck in his throat, and can't help but laugh a little at how cliche it all looks. Him, standing in front of your door with a bunch of flowers in hand, desperately trying to fight down his blush when he hears a 'coming!' faintly behind your door.
When you swing it open, your greeting is caught in your throat, eyes wide as they behold the blue and white blossoms Wriothesley brought for you.
"What... what's this? What's the occasion?"
But he shakes his head, and at his behest you take the bouquet into your arms, holding it carefully. When you bury your nose among the petals, they smell sweet but not saccharinely overpowering. It's enough to make you want to cry.
"No occasion," Wriothesley says, one hand going to scratch at the back of his neck, his smile shy and bashful. "I just wanted to get them for you. Wanted to be the first person to ever get you a bouquet of flowers, you know? But importing them took longer than i expected and, well, I told the florist that I was giving it to someone very special so they spent some extra time on the arrangement..." He trails off, clearing his throat nervously. "...Do you like it?"
And that sets loose the tears behind your eyes.
Wriothesley panics a little when he sees how you blubber, sobs making your shoulders shake as you hide your face in the flowers. His eyes widen, a frantic apology on the tip of his tongue while he fears that he messed up somehow. But then you tackle him into a hug, arms wrapping around his shoulders, pulling him close until you can bury your head in his chest and cry. His arms wrap around you almost hesitantly, but when you nuzzle closer into his embrace and they tighten around you.
You're barely able to speak through your tears, words muffled around his undoubtedly ruined shirt.
"I love it." I love you, you really mean.
And how can you not? This sweetheart of a man bought you flowers just because he wanted to. Because no one else had before, and he wanted to be the first person to do so. All his sporadic trips to the surface for the past week make sense— you doubt procuring so many imported flowers so quickly was an easy task on top of troubleshooting the various hiccups of the fortress and sorting through some documents that found themselves on his desk. But he did it anyway, just because he thought it'd make you happy.
"I'm glad," Wriothesley murmurs. He rocks you back and forth in his embrace until your happy tears begin to subside. Then he clears his throat. "So, can I buy you another one next week, too?"
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⚠️NSFW Ahead⚠️
Another random thought but, what if MC has a thing for Lucifer's thighs and/or legs in general?
I like to imagine that MC would just casually walk up to Lucifer in private and just slap or squeeze a thigh and Lucifer would look at MC like "🤨" but he hides the fact that he actually enjoys it
And he definitely enjoys it when MC pulls him into their lap and just holds him close. But of course that's not all they're going to do
MC would also run their hands up and down his thighs, sometimes getting adventurous and straying towards the inner thighs and Lucifer can't help but be so flustered
And when it comes closer to midnight, MC will worship Lucifer's legs
They'll start kissing up and down his bare skin, watching and enjoying the looks and sounds coming from the demon under them. The way his face gets flushed over time and the way Lucifer get more excited sends MC into a frenzy
Then they would start leaving their marks on him. Biting, sucking, licking, nibbling, you name it. You can bet that Lucifer's legs are going to be littered with bite marks and hickeys after MC's done with him
And when morning comes, Lucifer's thighs are chewed to shit, he's extremely sore, and he's exhausted. But he couldn't be any more happy when he see's MC sleeping so soundly right next to him
Perhaps he might just call for a day off...
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