#(don't look at the day and night ones too closely though)

[sourlove]

Omg the jock is so cute I was wondering if maybe we could get a scenario thing we're maybe reader and jock are at a diner on a hot summer night just chilling idk how you want to interpret that but I love your writing so far ♥️

TW: YANDERE THEMES BUT NOT REALLY SHOWN. LUCAS IS A GOOD BOY

A/N: I immediately thought of like a small town in the 50s or 60s when I read this lol.

READ LUCAS' HEADCANONS HERE

Thanks for the ask!

The heatwave that settled over the town had everyone abandoning their houses in favor of hanging out at the lake or starting up their barbeques. You, on the other hand, were heading to a date with a certain someone that evening.

"Y/N! Y/N! Over here!"

You had barely even stepped into the diner when you were swept into a bear hug. You didn't even have to guess who it was, by the way your feet completely stopped touching the ground.

"Hi Lucas," you said wearily. The star football player grinned at you, eyes bright from beneath shaggy, golden curls. You snorted and ruffled his hair. "You doofus, didn't I tell you to get a haircut after practice today?"

Lucas pouted. "I wanted to get here before you did. Look, I got us a booth! You said you like booths so I got us one!"

"Yes, I can see that. Thank you, Lucas." You sighed as he dragged you to a seat at the back of the diner, where the crowd was thinner. Lucas squished himself next to you, instead of opposite, rendering the booth pointless. You didn't mind anyway, as you were used to Lucas doing this.

"What can I get you lovebirds today?" the waitress asked, giving the two of you a grin. You smiled back at her. She had always been kind to you and had on more than one occasion, smacked Lucas with a newspaper for trying to makeout with you in the diner. She playfully glared at him and he stuck his tongue out at her, hugging you closer.

"Hey, Donna. Can we just get two milkshakes and some fries?" You asked, ignoring the way Lucas buried his head in your neck.

"Sure thing, hon." Donna walked away to place your order and you patted your boyfriends head gently. Honestly, it was too hot for his shenanigans. You let him stay like that for a while, though. As much as you refused to say it out loud, sometimes you really enjoyed being smothered by Lucas. It was comforting, like a heavy weighted blanket draped on top of you.

Lucas sighed happily as you combed a hand through his curls. "I thought you said you like when my hair gets long? I was growing it out for you."

"I love your hair, short or long, baby," you said. "But not when it gets in your eyes. If you fumble on the field again, I think Coach is gonna get his scissors and hunt you down to cut it himself."

"You love me?" Unfortunately, everything else you just said was obsolete to this boy. "You mean that, don't you?"

"Of course she does," Donna chimed in, holding a tray of your food. "There has to be a reason she would put up with you slobbering all over her."

"Thanks, Donna. Um-there's only one milkshake?" you questioned.

"Yeah, and two straws." She winked at Lucas. "Enjoy!"

Lucas beamed and immediately stuck the straws into the frothy drink, looking at you with such hopeful eyes, you couldn't do anything but sigh and lean forward to drink. You had to admit, the cold drink was just what you needed to stave of some of the heat of the day. Your eyes fluttered close as you savored the sweet taste.

When you opened them, Lucas's big brown eyes stared back at you.

"What is it this time, Lucas?" you asked with a huff.

"You're just so pretty." He smiled sweetly, the big dope. "I like looking at you."

You and you smacked his arm, though it hurt you more than it probably hurt him. "You're such a sap."

"A sap for you, honeybun~"

"I said don't call me that in public!"

"But whyyyy?"

You stuffed fries into his mouth to shut him up, giggling at his puffed out cheeks. He begged you for more and you rolled your eyes but relented. Sometimes saying no to Lucas was like kicking a puppy, there was no logical reason to. You could practically see his tail wagging as he ate greasy diner fries form your hand, licking your fingers clean.

"Let's go home," he whispered softly when all the fries were gone. The look in his eyes was so intense you grew flustered. Lucas grinned and tossed a few bills on the table, pulling you out of the booth.

You called out a hasty goodbye to Donna and she smiled at the both of you from behind the counter. There was something odd about that boy and the way he looked at you. But then again, who was she too stand in the way of young love?

The night hadn't gotten much cooler, but there was a little breeze stirring up the heat. The smell of grilled meat and distant laughter told that people were still enjoying their evening. You would have to swing by to your neighbor's house later. He always saved leftovers from his barbeque for you and Lucas.

Lucas held your hand tightly as usual. He didn't seem to be in a rush like he was on other nights. "What's on your mind?" you asked, swinging your hands back and forth.

"You."

Shocker. You laughed and shook your head in disbelief. "I can't always be on your mind, dummy." He glanced at you in confusion.

"Why not? You're the best thing that ever happened to me!"

You stopped walking and stared at him. He tilted his head, the action making his curls fall into his eyes again. "What's wrong, honeybun?"

The stupid nickname, the shaggy hair, the dumb, sweet smiles. Everything about Lucas that you once thought was annoying, now made you smile about your boyfriend. This was bad.

He yelped when you suddenly dragged him down by his collar to mash your mouths together but soon reciprocated the kiss happily. When you released him, his face was flushed with another stupid grin plastered over it.

"What was that for? Not that I'm complaining!"

"Nothing," you hummed, linking your fingers again. You would have to get the leftovers later, it seemed. You had plans for your boyfriend that night. "Nothing at all, baby~"

A/N: Everyone seems to love Lucas! And I don't blame you, he's the sweetest boy. Thanks for the support! If you enjoyed this, leave a like, comment and reblog. My asks are open though I might not reply to them immediately, I will try to reply to all.

#obsessive love #obsessive yandere #yandere #yandere boyfriend #writers on tumblr #fanfic #yandere jock #jock #golden retriver boyfriend #yandere boy #yandere male #male yandere #soft yandere #yandere x female reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #yandere x #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere fic

[sunnyswide]

Murderer POLY 141 🔪 x Oblivious Female Reader

NSFW/MDNI (sexual activities and sexual themes)

Instead of military.. Why not just a bunch of fucking murders.

To you, it seemed so odd that they would show up at the most convenient of times. Nonetheless, you were mighty grateful for the help. For the quick fix-up on your car. The multitude of groceries you had. The short-lived stalker you never heard from again. The drunken who suddenly approached you late at dusk, but also got taken care of quite swiftly. The fruitful amount of cash that was hidden under piles of junk in the drawer. They were a bit tinted with red… Chalking that up to “Oh I must have put that there” even though you had no recollection.

But to them, it was all fun and games. Who'd be first caught or who'd be the last one standing?

Gaz was just so kind, inviting you to every opportunity for tea or snack breaks. You’re surprised when he tells you he lives at the complete opposite side of town.

“Thats an hour away Gaz! Isn't it exhausting?”

“Not at all, I have work here.”

He lies theough his teeth but hey? Isn't it all lies around here. As long as your adorable mind doesn't realize.. It won't hurt. Just like the many times he takes you to where he resides, eyes staring at the two of you.

Course you’re scared, but he promises it's because they’re not too keen with visitors. Not realizing the multitude of people don't seem to be glaring at you. But at him.

You don't ask questions and go along with it. Letting him lead you to his apartment that seemed to be barely lived in.. But it doesn't matter after he Fucks those pretty thoughts out of your mind. Making you see stars as he finishes inside of you for the third time.

But Price isn't that open. He keeps the conversation entertaining but reveals absolutely nothing about himself as he listens to you talk.

He loves the expressions you make, your lips pouting when you talk about the scary days you had over the week because of some weird stalker.

“I promise! There is someone following me!”

“Then why don’t you let me take you home”

He walks you home every night the two of you go out. The one day he doesn't, you swear you could hear an extra pair of footsteps. Looking around deliriously you opt for a run instead, going through alleyways and shortcuts. Until you accidentally bump into someone, causing you to trip over your feet.

“Gah! Sorry!”

You look up to see Price! He looked shocked at first but soon composed himself, taking your hand in his.

“Dont be sorry”

He smiles gently, kissing the top of your forehead while you burst into soft sobs. You swear you saw something.. Or someone else behind him. On the floor? Maybe it was your imagination..

He takes you home but you beg him to stay the night.

“Can you stay?..”

He holds you tight, pressing his fingers deeper into your hips. This only leads to an excuse to fuck you on his cock as an “apology” for scaring you. He whispers sweet nothings to you as he overstimulates your dripping cunt, making you cockwarm him even after cumming.

But after meeting Ghost and Soap, the perfect self-proclajmed duo, you couldn’t help but find yourself attracted. They were a mix of dark humor and wholesome dad jokes.

They invite you for a quick drink as friends. Friends that sit too close to each other.. Ghost insisting you sit in the middle as Soap drapes an arm around your waist, pouring you more and more Alcohol you didn’t want to drink.

Sooner or later the “fun” was coming to an end as you try to stand up, toppling over Ghost’s lap. They chuckle at your vulnerable state, taking it up as a reason to carry you back home. Of course this attracting other drunken dudes to come up to them asking them where they think they’re going.

“Cmoonnnn, We can all have a piece of that”

Soap smirks.. He was damn happy they even asked.

“Why not gentlemen”

But you didn't see what happened after as Ghost drove you back to his place with Soap after the quick charade. Soap smelled a bit.. Odd.. His hands covered in a.. Red substance.

“Just wine luv”

A few minutes later you sobered up quite quickly, surprised even though you drank so much. But hey no hangover!

And as a thank you they happily ate you out. Getting Fucked by both of them at once felt.. Ruthless. Your clit brimmed with overstimulation as Simon rubbed circles over it and your mouth forced wide open as Soap shoved his shaft deeper and deeper.

You sobbed quietly into the pillow as Soap rammed his Dick into your sopping cunt, relieved for the pounding to stop until Ghost took his time teasing your entrance. Making you gasp..

“Fu..ck.. Wai-wait”

Begging? Uselsss.

He didn't mind you screaming for him to stop. Overestimation turned into torture for your pussy. Brutilized after just one night, you’d had to come back to them for more right?

But it wasn't much of your choice to come back.

#simon cod #cod #cod smut #ghost smut #Simon smut #ghost x reader #Gaz x reader #price x reader #price smut #soap x reader #soap smut #poly 141 #price cod #Gaz cod #soap cod #simon riley smut

[misc-obeyme]

Hihi can I request a Barbatos and MC with severe depression? Like they have a hard time getting out of bed, showing, and Barbatos helps them if that's okay? Also please take care of yourself! I'm proud of you for taking a break!

Hi, anon! It's definitely okay! I did say in my writing update post that I'm accepting small drabble requests! And thank you, I'm definitely doing much better now! 💕

I used a lot of personal experience for this one, but I've been there and it's hard not to use those feelings when I write. Anyway, I hope it turned out okay!

Barbatos sees the mound of blanket slowly moving up and down with your breathing. It's a relief to see that minuscule movement - an indication that you're still holding on. He sits down on the edge of the bed, knowing that his weight moving the mattress will alert you to his presence. Even so, you don't stir.

He can't see you. The blankets cover most of you. The only thing visible is the top of your head, your hair greasy and in disarray. He knows you haven't showered in days. He knows you haven't left your bed in days except to go to the bathroom. You'll sneak into the kitchen in the night to eat. Sometimes you're awake and scrolling mindlessly through your D.D.D. But mostly you simply sleep. A space of oblivion where you don't have to feel anything when you're feeling everything far too much.

Barbatos reaches out a hand toward you. He hesitates. He knows you're aware of him, that you're awake in that moment, though keeping your eyes closed. He knows you don't want him to see you. He knows that it hurts you to see him. He knows that you don't want to look at him and see pity.

But Barbatos is a master at portraying no emotion aside from the one he very deliberately means to show. All you will see when you look at him is love. Because he will allow nothing else.

Barbatos settles his gloved hand on your back.

He waits.

Eventually you squirm beneath his touch, a subtle indication that you don't want him to be here.

"I will not leave until you speak to me," Barbatos says. He keeps his voice soft, but with a firmness that he hopes will impart to you how serious he is.

You mumble an incomprehensible acquiescence and he takes it.

"Tell me what you need," he says, keeping his tone even and neutral.

There is a long silence.

And then you sit up and look at him. The blanket falls from your shoulders. You have dark circles beneath your eyes and your stare is hollow, but for a tiny spark of surprise.

"You're not going to scold me?" you ask. Your voice is so ragged it nearly breaks his heart.

He reaches out to brush his fingers across your cheek, wishing for the first time that he wasn't wearing his gloves so he could feel you. "You have done nothing wrong, my love."

You bite your lip, hard. He wants to reach out, to pull you to him, to kiss you, to make you stop before you break the skin. But the tears that have formed in your eyes stop him. He's too cautious, still uncertain about what you need in this moment.

He learns his worries are unfounded the moment you collapse into his arms.

Barbatos holds you, rubbing gentle circles on your back as you pretend you aren't crying as hard as you are. You cling to him and the heaviness of your grip feels like solidity to him. Like you aren't slipping away, like you're still his, like maybe he can simply be whatever you need after all. It's all he wants.

So when you've cried yourself out, he asks you again. He asks you to tell him what you need. And you do. And he gives you whatever it is you ask for. It takes some time for you to find your way out of the labyrinth of sadness again. But Barbatos is there to guide you through every turn.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#mmm I just think he would understand #he would take care of you #however you asked him to #if someone simply asked me what I needed #it would have made a world of difference #sorry getting too personal in the tags lol #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me barbatos #om barbatos #obey me barbatos x reader #om barbatos x reader #obey me barbatos x mc #om barbatos x mc #obey me! #x reader #request #misc writes

[pumpkinbxtch]

Hii, can you do a Leo Valdez x Reader one-shot about the reader getting deaf or half-deaf? Like when he discovers, or even hcs😭. I'm asking this because I got half-deaf last year and there's ZERO content about that with pjo characters. It's okay if you don't want to do it or feel uncomfortable❤️❤️❤️

ᝰ.ᐟ leo valdez x half-deaf!reader headcanons

☆ radiostar is playin': on melancholy hill by gorillaz

warnings: none!

a/n: hi! i read your two posts and saw that you finally leaned towards headcanons. don't worry, it's okay, baby. Anyway! i have some experience in this because i had a classmate who was also half-deaf so here we go. If i make any mistakes, please let me know, okay? thank you for putting your trust in me. i hope you are very well.

— kisses from the hypothetical planet vulcan. 🧡

∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°

he was like boom in love and love pushes you to do things you never thought of doing, right?

At first, he's scared of messing things up with you, as if him being clumsy in love wasn't enough. He didn't want to offend you in any way, so he practically searched every corner of the library. You got him to read! And this fool never reads because it's hard for him, but there he was, researching about the topic.

He's definitely the type who always tries to help because he knows it can be tough sometimes, so when you have to go out in public, he makes sure to hold your hand tightly and NEVER let go.

He always positions himself on the good ear side so you can hear him better, and he gets even closer to you if there's too much noise around.

When he arrives somewhere and you don't see him immediately, he tries to make it noticeable that someone else has arrived, so he doesn't startle you.

But this guy is sometimes a teaser, and when you both reach that level of trust, he'll say things from afar knowing you won't hear well, but only because what he's saying is embarrassing

"I love you, I'm going to marry you, and I'm warning you from now on," he says from the entrance, and you deal with just seeing his lips move and hearing halfway.

You squint and shout, "What?!" and he laughs, so you show him the middle finger. "Idiot, you know I can't hear you."

Leo rushes towards you, and after giving you a kiss on the cheek, he whispers gently in your ear: "i'm sayin that one day your last name will be Valdez," and well, you end up as red as the forges he works in.

If you're the one who enters while he's working in the bunker or wherever he is, he immediately puts down the tools and gives you his full attention. This is also because he wants to make sure there are no loud noises when you're around. Sometimes you tell him it's not necessary for him to stop, but he does it anyway.

Although, if you insist, he'll look for the ear protectors he bought/made for you and ask you to wear them because he wants to keep you safe. Both of you might be wearing them, and even though he's working with dangerous, heavy materials, he can't help but steal glances with that loving gaze of his. Because oh gods, he fell so hard for you.

Even when both are alone, to talk to you, he gets close to the point where your foreheads are touching and gazes fixed on each other. You tell him he can back off a bit, and he shakes his head while giving you a kiss on the nose. "I know, but I still want to be close to you."

When there's not much noise on the street that could be dangerous, he chooses to walk with you arm in arm, continuing to tell you things and talk nonsense that makes you laugh.

Leo doesn't like going to hospitals much, but if he has to accompany you to your regular check-ups, he will, or he'll tell you that Will Solace is a very good doctor.

He whispers sweet nothings in your ear every night, to let you know he loves you.

Here comes a huge confession from Leo Valdez, he's definitely working on a device that could help you. With the help of the Apollo cabin, he thinks he could pull it off, and he's just refining it every day to improve your life because he simply wants the best for you. Even if he ultimately has to scrap it, he'll look for other types of gadgets he can create to help you.

Although he knows you can manage, Leo feels good and proud to be able to help the person he loves. You're the one who made him explore that part of himself where he looks out for your emotional and physical well-being.

#maría's shared dreams☆｡ﾟ✧ #leo valdez #leo valdez x y/n #leo valdez x you #leo valdez x reader #pjo hoo toa #heroes of olympus #pjo #hoo x reader #riordanverse #leo valdez headcanons #leo valdez fanfic

[elliewilliamsblunt]

(¯`·¸.-~*´¨¯`*·~-. 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕟 𝕚𝕔𝕖 .-~*´¨¯`*·~-.¸·´¯)

Notes!: hi guys! So I tried to listen to the comments on my last post, wanting longer chapters and that's what I did! May have taken me a minute but it's here. But! This chapter will be in Ellie's Pov. Starting the outlook on her relationship with reader and god like an opposite approach for Ellie's backstory. (Which is a bit of a long start.) One thing clear is that Ellie resents the Christian/Catholic faith and you'll see why, which also leaves a small gap between her and the reader being close! :) she also isn't phased by being gay so teehee

Summary: she was never a fox…but another lamb awaiting the slaughter. A new sacrifice to his sins…please don't ruin her…

TW: self-image issues, identity struggle, trauma, ptsd, religious trauma, homophobia, internal homophobia, attempted SA (!NOT FROM READER OR ELLIE!)

*If you don't like dark themes, angst/horrific reads!!DO NOT INTERACT!! If you get mad at me I warned y'all.*

Chapter one, chapter two

Past tense= italics

Present= Normal

↞chapter three↠

“I was too young to notice, that some types of love could be bad.”

⛧°。⋆༺♱༻⋆。°⛧•𓆩⚝𓆪•⛧°。⋆༺♱༻⋆。°⛧

Ellie POV

If there was one thing that was clearly apparent in Ellie from a young age, was that she wasn't pleasant. The girl wasn’t sweet, nor angelic from her very birth. She was a whiny baby and an even more stubborn tot. Something that would have been cute in the eyes of other adults. But her parents weren't fond of children, and Ellie certainly wasn't a blessing. Just a very taunting mistake every time she opened her mouth.

While you had the comfort of cozy bedrooms, fulfilling thanksgivings, and a stable spot to live. The copper-headed girl's roots lay in the hazy landscape of a trailer park, barely overseen by her inebriated parents whose faces she could never remember. Walls adorned with faded paint exuded the stale aroma of nicotine and weed, while unwashed dishes amassed, breeding a newfound aversion to insects within Ellie. Nights often greeted her with gnawing hunger, exacerbated by merciless seasons when the air conditioner succumbed to its demise. These were the trials Ellie grew accustomed to when she was young. Because it was the only comfort of a family she had at the time, even if her parents treated her like a leashed mut weeping on a sweltering lawn.

Though her memory was always quite fogged, what she could trigger were either agonizingly loud arguments or suffocating silences that left her to fend for herself for days. Clumsily prouncing around the cluttered trailer in faded t-shirts that swallowed her whole. Desperate for even the slightest acknowledgment from her parents, she often found herself longing for their gaze or a meager morsel of attention causing her rowdiness. Even now looking back on those tumultuous times, she sometimes wished her parents had beaten or screamed at her. If it meant she could have some form of feedback. Yet, such hopes remained unfulfilled, as Ellie was deemed purposeless and inconsequential in her parents' eyes, a mere shadow within the blurred backdrop of their drug-induced existence.

Home, or what she could’ve called it, didn’t last much longer. For the one afternoon she could remember clearly was when it all ended. Confined to her room once more, she listened as her parents' arguments escalated into relentless strife throughout the night. Such nonsense was hardly unexpected; her 'father' had always assumed the role of aggressor, juxtaposed against her mother's perpetual state of hopeless romanticism. The woman was horribly dependent and weak, striking a source of frustration in his eyes, but he never did resort to physical violence towards Ellie. But instead left her to endure her own anguish. Locked up in her room wailing until exhaustion lulled her into unconsciousness, dissolving her fear into a tranquil gentle calm.

When she awoke, the familiar silence was punctuated by a new sound—the sound of weeping from the living room. Intrigued by the unusual disturbance, she dragged herself off the carpet and ventured down the narrow hallway. There, she encountered her intoxicated mother, tears streaming down her face, abandoned by Ellie's father. The scene, now marred by shattered glass, overturned furniture, and faint traces of powder beyond Ellie's comprehension.

"Momma?" she ventured tentatively, prompting her mother to cast her gaze upon Ellie, truly seeing her for the first time in what felt like an eternity. It was a fleeting moment, yet it etched a single memory of her mother's worn visage into Ellie's mind. Her mother appeared weary and prematurely aged, with dried blood caking her nose, a bruise marring her cheek, and one eye swollen shut, smudged with remnants of old eyeshadow. "Hey, Els..." her mother murmured in response, attempting to offer a forced smile amidst her tears. Ellie, Oblivious to the gravity of the situation, Ellie beamed at the attention, too young to harbor any ill thoughts toward her caregivers. "Why are you crying, Momma?" she chirped cheerfully, watching her mother's dreadful stare stiffen shifting gears from her feigned amusement. Hinting at the girl's bleak future ahead.

"How about we go to church today?”

༺♰༻

Ellie couldn't remember the last time she had been outside, or when she had been normally dressed. Well if you considered stained baggy jeans and a thrifted t-shirt decent. But she couldn't complain really, the breeze was nice and the sun was lovely on her freckled neck. Walking hand in hand with her mother, it felt almost like a rebirth or what a birthday felt like had she ever had one. She didn’t really understand the simplicity of it or well any normality in a way. Which made her gears turn in suspicion seeing as her mother hadn’t ever shown her this much attention let alone affection before.

"Where are we going, momma?" Ellie would inquire, but the silence stretched on, her mother's expression unyielding. While they strolled down a gravel road for what felt like hours till they reached the town's edge. Passing by grassy fields and scattered countryside homes before coming upon a grand chapel teeming with playful children and vigilant nuns. The sight filled Ellie with anticipation; she had rarely encountered other children outside of television. "Why don't you go play over there?" her mother directed breaking the silence, prompting Ellie to beam with excitement as she dashed toward the group.

Like a dream, the day unfolded swiftly and hazily. Yet, as with all dreams, the afternoon gradually descended into a bittersweet conclusion. The little girl's smile would wane as exhaustion set in, and her lungs stilled aflame from the fervent play. The sky slowly painted itself in hues of orange and pink, and the church bell tolled, signaling the end of the day's reverie. The children, obedient as most lambs, gathered under the watchful eyes of the nuns. But Ellie remained rooted in the tall grass, her gaze scanning the field for her mother, whom she couldn't see.

But she didn't shed tears or utter a scream; instead, she simply waited and muttered a faint whisper…

“Momma?”

༺♰༻

What Ellie didn't grasp back then in her abandonment, was that her stay in the orphanage wasn't going to be a short-term. Which was a hard subject for the little girl to grasp during recess times when she'd stray from the nun's view just waiting longingly by the gravel road every day. Only to return to the older women with a snotty nose and damp cheeks. Ignoring the caregivers' pleas for prayer or companionship, she remained fixated on her mother's absence. Because she wasn't interested in anyone's attention besides her mother's. She grew even more stubborn by the day trying to battle her frustration and betrayal. Screaming at the nuns to leave her be, beating the girls who mocked her mother's disappearance.

Until one day the pastor took note of the stray after he finished the morning sermon lingering behind while the others dashed outside. There Ellie stood with a pitiful frown just peeping by the door uninterested and going out much more. “What happened?…you always seemed to be quite eager to get out” he teased. He was tall and had a pale slender face with some patchy facial hair. His eye bags were an odd irritated pink while his hair was overpowered with gray. Undeterred, he chuckled at her defiance. “If you'd like to stay inside…I have somethin’ to show you.” he offered, gently tousling her coppery hair. Causing her eyes to light up with interest as he turned away walking down the long halls.

After a few moments of quiet contemplation, Ellie followed the man into his dimly lit office. With its closed, imposing windows and small framed Bible verses, it exuded a somber atmosphere. “Not much of a talker are ya?” He'd joke. But in reality, Ellie was quite loud, despite the past few weeks she just didn't want to amuse him or explain. “Your mother wasn't much of a talker either…or that's at least what the nuns told me.” Unperturbed, he delved into the task at hand, rifling through his cluttered desk until he unearthed a handful of weathered and stained documents. “I don't want to break your spirit much more than it has been…but there's no use for moopin’ on a woman who doesn't want a darlin’ like you around.”

Ellie's brows knitted together in confusion at his statement, her eyes darting quickly to the papers in his hand. Even trying to yank them from his grasp. Before being swiftly denied as he raised them out of her reach. “Easy there, this is important stuff ya hear.” he cautioned, before delicately unfolding the documents in front of her. "I'm afraid there's no note or anything of the sort," he explained gently. "Just your birth information and hospital records."

That final blow caused Ellie’s silence to break, while freckled cheeks flushed red with anguish. She couldn't help but sob, starting to tug at her choppy hair as salty tears streaked down her face. Her heart torn apart and her hope shattered, she uttered incomprehensible pleas through her sobs. “W-what?! N-no no no! You're wrong! My momma is coming back!!” she’d wail. Alarmed, the plasterer gently pulled her wrists away from her head, his voice tinged with urgency. “My god! Child don't punish yourself for her! That woman doesn't deserve your tears," he insisted sternly, trying to console her as she looked up at him, her agony palpable. “Come on….it ain't all bad here. You'll start school, and you'll find a new kind of family. It'll be alright.” But Ellie shook her head in return. “B-but I don't want a new family!” she choked.

“Careful now girl. You don't raise your voice like that.” The man would quickly interrupt causing Ellie's tears to pause and her face to lose some of its color.

Maybe then….should have been the first sign….

As quickly as his stern demeanor had dissipated, the pastor extended a tentative smile and reached out to gently rub Ellie's cheek. "Maybe we got off on the wrong foot," he began, his voice softening. "Names David and I promise I'll help you settle in." Ellie met his gaze with a small, timid expression, her name barely a whisper as she sniffled softly. "Ellie," she murmured in reply. “Ya know, what you remind me of Ellie?”

The girl shook her head ‘no’ in return waiting for David to go on. “Ya remind me of a lil fox cub….got Auburn hair like em…young like em.” He’d murmur tenderly adjusting her untamed hair, causing her to tense slightly with the unfamiliar touch. "Fox cubs are born blind and deaf," he continued softly, "but with guidance, they learn to see and hear. Maybe if I and the other nuns can help you open your eyes and ears to God you’ll see, it ain't so bad here." Though, even at that tender age Ellie couldn't believe a word he said. So, unwillingly she nodded in response earning a smile from the off-putting man.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of ya lil girl.”

༺♰༻

"Wake up by 7 am, breakfast at 8, morning sermon at 9, classes until noon, lunch at 1, followed by Bible study and afternoon classes until 4, then free time until 9, lights out by 11." This rigid schedule would soon become Ellie's bane by the age of 10. She'd venture every hall, read every verse, memorize the insignificant prayers.

Ellie was bored with her life…

But, her disdain for the routine was mostly rooted from the incessant bullying she endured. In her eyes, Catholic kids were nothing but "prissy, egotistical dicks," Or that's at least what she'd claim. Not that she was wrong, she just remained oblivious to the other side of the coin. She couldn't ever understand the girls who obsessed over magazines they stole from the nun's offices. Or the hypersexual boys she was growing up with.

Ellie's awkward demeanor and biting sarcasm only served to isolate her further. Even attempts at humor with older kids resulted in a bloody nose and lectures from the caregivers. And while you may think adoption could give her a glimmer of hope, living in Wyoming felt more like being marooned on an island—sparse and distant, frequented more by the elderly than young couples. But even then when they'd show, they were much more eager to take home a cute tot not some washed-up girl with anger issues. Left with little choice, she had to acclimate to the orphanage's dreary routine. Even if meals were tasteless, or television was practically non-existent. The boundaries of the orphanage felt like prison walls. Like she was being constantly mocked by god that she should be grateful for this bullshit. Sometimes, she even considered the feeling that the trailer she was born in offered more comfort than the institutionalized existence she endured, now that was melodramatic.

Because it wasn't all bad, she went to bed with a full belly, she slept in silence, and at least she had David. Though he was first and foremost the pastor, not a friend per se, he was the closest thing she had to a father figure. He was the only one patient enough to tolerate her bullshit. Teaching her about the ways of god, or at least trying to. But even if he was a bit…odd sometimes or the way other girls would avoid his gaze. She found him to be surprisingly decent partially because he was the only one who was kind to her. And didn't degrade her for being unpleasant. Sometimes even watched with a smile when she'd clumsily dance around outside with her walkman. He kept up with calling her ‘his little fox.’ Humiliating enough, Ellie let slide without a thought about it because it felt…sweet…and caring. The guy also went out of his way to gift her a journal to jot down her thoughts. After getting her shit rocked by some stuck-up “Claire” chick. When she sat in the chapel steps in the rain, taking the journal into consideration.

“What’s this?” She’d ask the older man while he smiled shrugging his shoulders. “A Journal.” He remarked. “For what?”

“Anything really, for ya thoughts…even stories, or maybe you could take up art I bet one of the nuns would be happy to teach ya,” David added leaving the girl surprised over his consideration. “Really?” Ellie asked softly earning his chuckle. “Just don't go tellin’ the other kids I gave you a gift.” Ellies gaze softened with a nod before she sighed. “You…don’t really gotta worry about that.”

“I don't see why you let 'em get to you girl, nothin’ wrong with bein’…..different” The paster would mumble making her stir with annoyance. “You’re not the one getting hit for it are you?” she’d hiss. But to her surprise, David remained amused. “Believe me, kid, I know all about bein’ different.” He murmured in return reaching out to brush a bit of dried blood off her chin.

“Get cleaned up and come inside, it ain't right for a pretty girl like you to be in the cold.”

༺♰༻

By the age of 14, Ellie found herself grappling with the tumultuous onset of puberty, an experience she likened to being "kicked in the ass," as she often put it. In contrast to the other girls who were psyched to have curvy figures. But Ellie didn't think much of it, awkward and self-conscious, especially in comparison to the other girls.

Her flat chest and tomboyish appearance made her a target for more of the girl's gossip, leaving her to grapple with her insecurities late into the night. Staring at her reflection in the dormitory's unforgiving mirrors, she couldn't shake the feeling of being too scrawny, too rugged. The sight of herself in the uniform nightgowns only intensified her discomfort, fueling the relentless taunts she inflicted upon herself.

Along with her new intrusive desires when she'd stare a little too long at the other girls. Watching them dry their hair or simply wash their soft faces. Often leaving Ellie stumped with shame and shyness. Not to mention the longer stares from David that shifted her into a brief distance. Taking time to consider the girl's rumors especially when he’d reach out to toy with her choppy hair and whisper. “It’d look nicer neat…”

Only soon she’d cut it off with a glass shard while her stomach churned seeing her reflection in the mirror….

Unsettled and a bit tense, she decided not to think about it. But things, only got worse when she got her first period because she didn't have the graciousness of a mother. But instead an elderly nun far too fucking cheerful for her liking. Spouting nonsense about womanhood and fertility instead of actual information on cycles. “Don’t go lusting now! Stay away from the boys save yourself for marriage!” she’d holler in conclusion humiliating her in front of the other girls as she left the infirmary.

“I don't think you'll ever need that will you lesbo?” Claire would taunt her chuckling with her friends. Leaning on one of the dusty walls of the chapel only to be interrupted with a scoff. “Oh shut up Claire don't you have lunch to hurl?” A girl would taunt in amusement making the brunette flush with utter embarrassment. “Screw you, Riley!” She squealed storming off while her friends mindlessly followed.

Leaving Ellie shocked and her brows furrowed in confusion as she took in the sight of the new girl. With her brown skin, captivating hazel eyes, and a cascade of curls, she exuded a quiet confidence that immediately left Ellie flustered. Summoning up the courage to speak, Ellie tentatively inquired, "Are you new here? I've never seen anyone shut down Claire like that before..." She questioned slowly. “N-Not that I'm mad I mean if anything thank fucking god,” Ellie added mentally cursing herself for being so scrambled.

The corners of Riley's lips curled into a snarky smile as she responded, “Hey watch your language…I mean we are in God's home.” she’d humor before going on. "I guess I'm a bit new. I arrived a few weeks ago, but I guess you've been too wrapped up in your own world to notice. It's like that journal of yours is your lifeline," she teased, causing Ellie's heart to race with a mixture of embarrassment and intrigue. “Oh? I didn't know you were so interested in my life?” the younger girl countered back.

“You wish…” Riley hummed before shyly laughing. “But it's not like there's anything else to do..”

That was the first time…Ellie felt it….in a long time.

Pure happiness….but something else too….something she couldn't pin down….

༺♰༻

Skipping Bible study, dozing off during sermons, and sharing sacramental wafers with Riley for a snack became Ellie's new routine as she transitioned into her teenage years. It was a schedule that didn't sit well with the nuns, especially David. Who'd silently glare at the girls in a horrific way that even made Ellie stir. But the girl couldn't care less, because she had Riley. If that girl was anything she was cereal at night, of the sun through storm clouds. She was the ride-or-die that Ellie couldn't bear a moment without. If anything she stopped her from going “Batshit crazy.”

However, their friendship seemed to fuel Ellie's rebellious streak even further. She pushed boundaries by sneaking wine and cigarettes from the nuns' quarters and regularly escaping to the nearby lake with Riley. Where, Riley patiently taught Ellie to swim, sometimes playfully pretending to dunk her underwater until they were both drenched, their laughter echoing across the water.

As they lounged on the sun-drenched grass afterward, their bodies pressed close, they shared tender, innocent kisses, their fingers intertwined in sinful affairs. "Do you ever think about leaving?" Riley's voice was soft, her smile gentle as she posed the question. Ellie shrugged nonchalantly, a small laugh escaping her lips. “Course I do….I mean…I just…wouldn’t know where to go…how to start.”

"Well, anywhere would be better than this... staying here, becoming a caregiver... I'd rather die," Riley joked, her laughter contagious. Ellie playfully nudged her shoulder. "Please! You becoming a nun? After everything? That'd be a miracle," she teased, earning a playful smack in return. Their banter faded into a comfortable silence, the weight of their shared dreams and uncertainties hanging in the air, but Riley had another thing in mind. “What if we ran?” She’d suggested dazing up into the trees.

“What do you mean?”

"What if we left... tonight?" Riley's voice was filled with excitement, her eyes shining with anticipation. "The nuns are busy with the younger kids, and David's caught up with the remodeling. If you could just... sneak into his office and grab our records, we could maybe ditch this place..." Her words hung in the air, charged with possibility, but Ellie's expression shifted to one of worry.

"What? No. Hell no, I can't do that," Ellie protested, her concern evident in her voice.

"Come on, Els! He likes you the most! Even if you got caught, what's the worst he could do?" Riley pleaded accompanied by a gentle squeeze of Ellie's hands, which inexplicably sent her heart racing, drowning out the voice of reason.

"Okay, but even then, what about money?" Ellie's practicality interjected, her mind racing with the potential consequences.

"Donations, probably somewhere in his office," Riley replied quickly, her confidence unwavering. "Come on, Ellie, it's a solid plan! Please?" she pleaded, her eyes pleading for reassurance.

Ellie's lips tugged into a shy smile, her resolve softening under Riley's relentless persuasion.

"Okay”

༺♰༻

There was a sneering chill on Ellie's skin, now pickled with goosebumps. When she finally returned to the church it was around 6 pm. The nuns were busy watching the little ones, and David was out front chatting with the two brothers giving the church a fresher layer of paint. Giving her just enough time to sneak back in with Riley still guiltily soaked from the brief escape.

"I'll grab your stuff, then we'll head out, okay? Meet me behind the chapel after." Riley whispered hastily, and Ellie nodded timidly, bidding her a silent goodbye.

Before she ventured down the chilled, dimly lit halls, her heart racing with unease as she approached David's eerie office. Thankfully, the door was unlocked, allowing her to slip inside and close it behind her in a panicked rush. Immediately darted over to his cluttered filing cabinets, frantically sorting through them for any records she could find. But just as she located her and Riley's records and shoved them into her back pocket, she heard the jingle of the doorknob and David's voice echoing through the room.

"Hello? Hey? Who locked this?! Who's in there?" His tone growing increasingly agitated as Ellie's ears picked up the sound of him retrieving a key. Racing against the clock, Ellie hurried to the window near his bookshelf, pushing it open as quickly as she could and preparing to make her escape. But she was too late. In an instant, David seized her by the hips, causing her head to collide with the window sash before she was forcibly dragged back inside.

“Damnit girl! What the hell are you doing in my office!” He sneered pushing her against the bookshelf roughly causing her to hiss in pain. “I wasn't doing anything!” She hissed in return earning a fierce glare from the man. Before his hand reached to grasp her cheeks roughly. “Don’t lie to me now! I know you got something!” He yelled in return before letting his other hand pat down her body disgustingly while she jerked. Until his hand reached over her bottom tugging the folded papers from her pocket. Causing him to dryly chuck holding them to her green eyes tauntingly. “What the hell is this Ellie hm? Where did you think you were gonna run off to? Where you really just gonna go off with that little Riley girl huh?” He questioned sternly.

“It’s better than this fucking place.” Ellie huffed glaring back at him as his nose flared with a heavy breath. “I think I've had it with your mouth little girl. And that Riley girl ain't a good influence on ya either-” David started before she quickly interjected. “She didn't do anything damnit!”

“Like I'd believe that,” He’d huff in feigned amusement. “I see the way you two girls act…even look at each other… it's sickening. And under God's roof? What happened to my little fox…” He questioned longingly, letting his calloused fingertips trail down Ellie's cheek while her jaw tightened. “I’m not anything to you, fucking perv…” She whispered.

The was a still, and horrid silence between the two. Leaving Ellie to watch David's eyes darken and his brows to furrow in betrayal. Until he slowly leaned in to whisper. “I think I outa’ set you straight.” Immediately making the girl’s heart stop in pure fear. Once she felt her back hit his desk and her wrists above her head by one of his tight gasps. Everything was so quick…so repulsive as try screamed and tried to push him off while he lewdly grinned working off his belt. “S-stop! Please! Stop! N-NO NO!!! PLEASE! STOPPP!!!” She howled earning harsh smack across the face. “Now now! You keep it down girl! I don't mind a fight but you better stop squirming or I'll make it worse!” He demanded in return.

That's when it finally kicked…Ellie wasn't a fox….but another mourning lamb….no mother to be found…left bare to the sickening reality of the world…to the vial desires of a man who vowed to be a saint….

A decent of god….

She struggled and sobbed begging to get him off, kicking and pushing as he tried to tug down her shorts. Until the door opened…

A tall man dressed in a aged flannel, and baggy sunbleached jeans supposedly thrown on. Aged but imposing, with a rugged yet undeniably charismatic countenance marred by wrinkles and gray strands infuriating his square beard. But for a fleeting moment, his eyes were wide and he stood frozen gazing upon the loathsome scene. Before he quickly closed the distance, his knuckles delivering a resounding crack to Davids's nose.

It felt good…like sun on your skin….or breath after a long mile….he was her savour…

It felt so fucking euphoric to watch…listening to the pastor's pleas and treated drown out with each blow the man threw. Leaving him barely conscious…his face battered and bruised. Painted with purple….speckled with iron droplets.

Sick fucker…

After a few deliciously blissful moments…he rose from where David laid, choked up on his blood. The stranger's knuckles, now throbbing stained in his own crimson fluids..like a grim trophy of justice. His gaze shifted back to Ellie, a now ghost of a girl. With blown green eyes blurred and irritated from her sobs and her knuckles white gripping her shorts in a still lingering terror.

“You alright kiddo?…” The older man would question in a gentle murmur. Tentatively reaching out to rub her shoulder in assurance, but only making her flinch. And all she mustered was a silent nod rubbing her tender cheek….still aching from Davids's blow.

“Tommy get in here now!” the stranger yelled out ducking his head in the window Ellie wished she escaped from. Before turning back to her with a pitiful look…Ellie resented…

“It's alright…I’ll get you out of this mess…” He whispered slowly reaching to pull her into a dreadful embrace she didn't give into….

That's when Ellie decided….there was no god….

༺♰༻

A few days later…

The ride was enveloped with a silence broken only by Joel's brief introductions. Despite Joel's attempts to welcome her…However, she wasn’t fond of it really, since she heard from his bother ‘Tommy’ that he'd lost his daughter recently. Giving Joel a replacement on a silver platter, and her an ‘abandoned kitten look’. Feral, and shaken up from the harsh world they couldn't fathom to understand. Ellie despised that look….she despised pity…and David for that matter.

She had no desire to be anyone's "little girl" again, nor did she crave novelty. She cherished the familiarity of sunny mornings and the solace of the field where she had once shared conversations with Riley until daybreak. Her heart belonged to the sketches of deer she had etched behind the church, symbols of the roots she had grown, and the passage of time she had weathered. Leaving meant abandoning these comforts, bidding farewell to Riley, perhaps with nothing more than a fleeting kiss.

And as she stared down the gravel road, as Joel led her out of her hometown. A pang of nostalgia made her feel six years old again, yearning for the return of normalcy. But fate had never been kind to her…Especially when that pastor got off scot-free….

No evidence my fucking ass…and having the nerve to put Joel in jail for assault…those bastards-

“Pretty ain't it?” His gruff voice interrupted breaking her stare. “Wyoming is just farms and grass…there really isn't much to it..” She pessimistically answered causing him to chuckle. “That’s true…but you'd be surprised how many places look like this…cities are mostly for the rich..” He added with a small smile. But Ellie couldn't return one just turning her head back to the window while the older man's lips softened.

“Well…maybe you'll grow to love it in time…”

༺♰༻

Ellie never knew how cold winters could get…or how old public schools were…or even how quite it was without Riley. But she enjoyed the fact Joel was a simple man, he believed in god. But he wasn't like David, or chapel girls. He didn't resort to violence or cult morals…He was a morally right soul…she could…be a kid…she didn't have to worry about death…and sin.

She could just be herself…

Life after leaving the church was,—though "normal" felt like a stretch for Ellie, who found solace in simple comforts. Despite Joel's shit coffee, she relished having her own room and meals that actually tasted good. Her new ‘lair’ consisted of a bedroom, complete with a boxy TV and a dusty PS3, a far cry from the institutional life of the orphanage, even if it wasn't exactly luxurious. Joel wasn’t a money-making man, the man worked in construction she really wasn’t expecting much.

And although she still bore the scars of her past, she was still a bit wary when it came to trusting Joel completely. But she couldn't deny his kindness, even if he vehemently denied it himself. Taking her to museums, letting her rant about shitty high school, even renting her books about astronomy. He oddly seemed particularly pleased with Ellie's tomboyish nature, a refreshing change from his past struggles to understand his own daughter's phases, particularly her Twilight obsession. Though, he still questioned her nature when she pleaded him to teach her hockey in long winters especially since it wasn’t a…girly sport.

"Why aren't you out with other girls from your school, cheerleading or something?" he'd grumble one afternoon, his head pounding from a long day. While Ellie, in her typical fashion, would retort while debating which action movie to watch, "Why would I hang out with preppy sluts or the pigs? I'd rather watch Kill Bill." She snorted scrunching her freckled nose. Partially trying to cover up the fact she was a bit of a loser….

"You really are an odd girl... You're tellin’ me there isn't one kid you like at school?" Joel persisted, prompting Ellie to tense up. "There's... Cat, I guess," she mumbled softly, her embarrassment palpable.

Joel simply hummed in response, not dwelling on it. "Why don't you go hang out with her then, instead of talking my ear off?" he teased, a hint of amusement in his voice. But Ellie's reaction was unexpectedly fierce, her eyes flashing as if his suggestion was outrageous. "I-I can't just... I can't just hang out with Cat!" she whined rubbing her flared cheeks.

"Why not?" Joel prodded, genuinely curious. "You just don't get it... I'm not that bold, I guess?…I don’t know Joel! It’s just weird..”

"So you can walk around this place like you're tough, but you can't talk to a girl...?" Joel's suspicion lingered in his tone. "Shut it, dinosaur..." Ellie scowled.

"Whatever you say, kiddo…”

༺♰༻

It wasn't until the approaching end of senior year that Ellie finally mustered the courage to talk to Cat, a girl she had been gwaking over since junior year. With a nudge from Jessie, who insisted she’d ask Cat out to prom. Luckily Cat found Ellie's awkward front adorable eagerly accepting. Especially since queer girls weren't a common thing in town. But the girls quickly spun into late-night dates, study sessions, and parties as the days counted down to the dance. Joel wasn't thrilled about it, but Ellie felt like she was finally living out her teenage years. Like she starred in “10 Things I Hate About You,” where her nerdy ass somehow managed to pull the gorgeous “Bianca.”

Her first real girlfriend…

And when prom night came and she was met with the pretty girl on her doorstep. She couldn't ever forget the pretty blue eyeliner and her lacey black dress, paired with the leather jacket Ellie had lent her. Along with Joel's shocked yet embarrassed look on his face when Cat greeted her with a sweet peck on the lips, his presence catching them off guard in the living room. Fortunately, Joel didn't seem to mind much, only offering a quiet plea that they refrain from such displays of affection in front of him, if only for his own dignity. Pondering the “friendship” he was proctoring those weeks.

Life was well, senior summer was lively filled with Dina, Jessie, and Cat. Traveling across Wyoming, getting tattoos, basking in the short summer of the country. Until then bitter start of fall faded in…and it was back to school…

Even if she had no interest in college she’d go for Joel’s sake. Though it seemed pretty fucking difficult seeing as expensive it’d be even for just in-state…ontop of that he didn't have much funding to send a kid to college, with his daughter gone most of his money went into his own hobbies.

Joel was retired….Ellie was grown now…she needed to get it together…

But fuck it was hard…and she was a striving pessimist… Well until she saw the checked-on scholarship offers, her eyes lighting up over the email.

“Girls hockey! Financial aid and insurance offered! See details below”

༺♰༻

Present…

“It’s fucking bullshit Joel!!” The auburnette hollared into her phone, storming out the sink early. While chilled winds brushed her cheeks as the reddened. Not exactly pleased with the news of being a rookie babysitter. When she could be spending time taking shifts at the records store, or hanging out with her lover. “It ain't that serious Ellie…” the older man grumbled annoyed with her stubborn complaints. “Are kidding?! Maria just taking in some newbie who can barely skate! If she keeps up with this bullshit we won't even reach nationals!” She cried out in frustration feeling her chest tighten. “Then it’ll be local games and t-then the team will be useless and broke and-”

“Ellie!” Joel huffed in return. “What?!”

“Now look here, you are far to old to be havin’ a goddamn tamptrom over some new girl. With that attitude I'd be surprised if you made it anywhere! But if you keep crying rather than helping this girl out what do will happen to the team?” The older man scolded causing Ellie to sture with embarrassment. “S’ still bullshit..” She retorted earning a sigh. “Just…be nice for Christ’s sake I’m sure you know what it's like to be alone…”

“Whatever….”

“And quit giving your aunt a hard time before she actually kicks from the team.”

“You know she's bluffing.” Ellie hummed, as her anger faded and her lips tugged into a cocky smirk. “Still…can you be less of a smart ass?”

“You’re killing me dude..”

“Love you too kiddo.” Joel snorrted before hanging up. Leaving Ellie to sigh in silence but there was still one thing clear….

You better not fuck up what she has…

⛧°。⋆༺♱༻⋆。°⛧•𓆩⚝𓆪•⛧°。⋆༺♱༻⋆。°⛧

Notes!: HIIII, thank you for reading! I hope the end didn't feel tooooo rushed, I might edit a bit more later but I'm happy with this! The next chapter picks up with training 🙏 (sorry I keep writing emo shit) but i do want go make this series long so! Please give me feedback if the build up is too slow!

Taglist: @vqxen @shiimer @a-little-bit-of-everybody @bready101 @cloudywithachanceofcrisis

#Spotify #tlou2 #tlou #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #wlw #ellie x fem reader #slow burn #angst #ellie tlou #eventual smut #lbtgq #ellie x you #lesbians #angst with a happy ending #wlw concepts #wlw yearning

[imbibitorlunaeluv]

Late Night Talks

You can't seem to get a peaceful night's rest, and neither can he.

Yuta Okkotsu x Fem! reader.

A lil drabble I made, basically for those who feel absoloutely guttered after a long day. L/N is your last name! have fun lovelies and DON'T sleep late!

This isn’t normal. None of this should be normalised to a teenage girl, a child who eliminates curses up until the sun rises up. But there are some who are considered gifted. Blessed to be stronger by others, and at all cost protect the weak. Though those rules are unwritten, it should be common knowledge by everyone.

I open the door to the dorms, my breath heavy as I fight the urge to close my eyes. A full week of enduring the need to faint is what I have overcome, and it may as well become part of my life by now. They say it is all well, the safety of others- of the weak, ensured.

The strong shielding the weak.

I lazily take off my combat boots, not caring what noise I may make at this time of night as I let my back collapse onto the sofa. I feel my sight become a blur, the taste and smell of curses still lingering in the air, the face of a helpless man screaming and kicking whilst making it harder to exorcise the damned cursed spirit.

To hell with the weak.

My right arm lifts up to cover my eyes, exhaling through my nose as I feel myself getting lightheaded,

“I feel like dying today…”

I mutter, to absoloutely no one. Besides, who in god's name would still be up by this hour?

“L/N-san?"

For some reason, something in me warms up just by hearing the familiar voice. I pry my hand away slightly, only to be met by a cursed boy’s dark silhouette in the dimly lit living room we both inhabit. His head peeked out from above the couch, leaning against the back of it while he looked down at me.

“Yuta…” I couldn’t fight the small smile forming onto my face, a slight bit surprised that I was caught off guard and couldn’t sense his presence.

“What… Why are you still awake?”

"I should be the one to ask you that."

I sit up slightly, propping myself up onto my elbows as I attempt to show a non exhausted grin, not like he could actually see it in such darkness.

“I just finished a mission… took longer than expected.”

He doesn’t at all seem satisfied with my answer. The change in atmosphere and posture could tell it all,

“Ah… alright then.”

“You don’t seem content with my answer, pretty boy.”

And he answers a beat later,

“You’re lying. Your missions usually take way longer than this.”

Even without seeing him clearly, the frown on his face was as bright as the sun. Ever since our shared conversation in the sushi restaurant, Yuta and I have been conversing more and more frequently without experiencing an awkward silence.

So attentive, I let a chuckle slip past my lips. The thought of having someone who could actually be awake enough to hear me come through the door is actually frightening. Having someone else who also has a messed up sleep schedule, or mind, accompanying me in the lonely night.

I gave into a smile, “You were always awake, weren’t you?”

A question that needed no answering to, making Yuta shake his head slightly as he walked to turn on the kitchen light instead.

“I never sleep- well at least I try not to…” his voice trails off, a yawn overcoming him as I sit up to get a better view of Yuta.

The way his eyes were begging to be closed shut, his slouched back and heavy eye bags were enough to make me feel slight pity. For a boy who claims to never sleep, he’s done particularly well in the art of combat. His passion, his determination, his love towards her.

I pursed my lips at the thought of Rika, “Do you never try to talk to… you know… Rika?”

A laughable question it might be, humorous to Yuta probably as I expected him to topple over laughing. But then again, it’s Yuta. The depressed cursed teenage boy I saved. The cursed boy merely smiles, holding his mug in one hand as he looks over to me.

“Not ever since being haunted by her face in my dreams, no.”

I experienced it too, is what I wanted to say. Although nothing leaves my mouth, I give an understanding nod instead. After realising that the past would always chase me till my sleep, I was slightly grateful for the stockpile of missions that made me occupied. I stopped consulting with Shoko as it proved to be of no help.

“Sometimes when I do see a glimpse of the past Rika… I feel sick to my stomach.”

I know the feeling.

“Knowing that I couldn’t even do anything made me feel useless… even until now.”

I’ve always felt that way.

“Sometimes I feel that Gojo-sensei was right… love is a twisted curse.”

Love is for the weak.

I let out a hum, eyes casted down to instead look at my nails and speak whatever comes to my head, “He told me the same thing. But I thought it was so I would steer away from dating anyone.”

And for a moment, I catch a glimpse of Yuta’s sheepish look.

“You-you’ve never… had a lover?” he questions me, his cheeks flaring up into a vibrant pink while avoiding any form of eye contact. He sounds lost, astounded, even. It’s as if the facts I conveyed to him were all white lies.

“Never really thought of having one, really. I admit that the topic of romance does hang higher in the books I read, but I’ve never experienced what it’s like to be loved romantically by someone.”

My explanation seemed to bring Yuta some courage to at least look me in the eye, his lips slightly parted at the information he received. He seems to stay like that for a moment, the same startled look looming on his features.

I take notes on his face features, softly lit up by the light shining right above the kitchen counter behind him. The colour on his face seemed to return after enrolling in Jujutsu High for a while, and he doesn’t look as skinny and bony as he did. His hair was growing a tad bit longer, more fluffy but never kept neat. My gaze goes down to his lips, his slightly chapped, parted lips.

I feel myself getting warmer by the second, my heart thumping so loud I can almost throw it up. He looks at me, with such eyes that cloud so much thought. And I absolutely feel myself getting weaker just by this, and I absolutely hate it.

I return my gaze to his eyes, “Too shocked to speak?”

Yuta flinches by the sound of my voice, almost as if he was in a haze whilst looking over at me. He then shakes his head, watching his unkept raven hair move as a blush rises to his ears. He covers his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes not meeting mine as I can barely make out his muffled voice,

“You’re just… too pretty

#jujustu kaisen #yuta okkotsu #yuta x reader #yuuta x reader #okkotsu yuuta #jjk yuuta #jjk #jjk x reader #fluff #jjk fluff

[aziraphales-library]

hello hello hello! how are you lovely mods doing? first of all I want to thank you for this blog, it's given me all the best GO fics I've read!!

I wanted to ask you, are you guys aware of any Cinderella!au fanfic for AziraCrow? Cause I've been thinking about writing one, but I don't want to accidentally make it too similar to an existing one!

Thank you ever so much ❤️

Hi, I'm good thanks! We have some Cinderella aus here, and I've got more now...

Raven by desk_mess (T)

King Gabriel's son, Prince Ezra, is coming of age to take a wife for themself. A servant-girl, Antonia, dreams of escaping the clutches of her cruel step-mother and step-sisters. Little do they know they have someone looking out for them. After all, it's ineffable. (Good Omens Cinderella AU) (Rated Teen for Language and Implications.)

A Midsummer Midnight’s Dream by pilatesandpinot (E)

Aziraphale Fell dreams of becoming an actor and dancer but instead lives in servitude to his wicked stepfather and stepsisters. When a mysterious duke invites all of the eligible bachelors and bachelorettes to the Midsummer Masquerade Ball, he thinks he’s found his escape. His stepfamily shuns him from attending, though that’s not something Aziraphale or his sassy godmother will take laying down. Will Aziraphale find his happily ever after, even if it’s not entirely what he expected? A Cinderella/Fairytale inspired AU

Cinderfall by a_serpent (G)

Azira Fell had a really though childhood - his parents died and he had to live with his terrible stepmother and stepbrothers. Everything changes when one day Az meets intriguing (and deadly handsome) redhead stranger.

Cinderphale by Ezra_Oakenshield (G)

As the title suggests, this is a rewrite of "Cinderella" with the Good Omens characters. After the death of his mother, Aziraphale is at the mercy of his cruel adopted siblings. They reduce him to a lowly servant. The solace he finds is with his animal friends, his bookkeeper friend from town, the mysterious blank book that she gave him, the prospect of the three-night ball at the palace, and a certain handsome red-head with dark glasses.

Cinders Bound by Golden Crown by AJ_Constantine (E)

Good Omens Alpha Beta Omega Cinderella AU From the far end of the ballroom Prince Aziraphale’s eyes locked on Crowley as he raised his hand beseechingly. Crowley couldn’t look away from him if his life depended on it, although he was keenly aware of the increasing number of eyes joining the Prince’s to stare at him standing frozen on the dais. As he realized that he was incapable of not answering the silent call of the bright Alpha below him, a calm washed over him, acting as a soothing balm over the jagged edges of his seething emotions. Just breathe. He inhaled shakily as he began descending the steps to the ballroom floor. Prince Aziraphale mirrored his steps, stepping forward to close the distance between them. The sea of nobles between them parted like waves receding from the shore as they moved closer. When Crowley drew close to the Prince, his hand slowly rose to settle in the Alpha's outstretched one. The Prince looked at Crowley's face searchingly. His voice was quiet yet ringing with intent as he asked, "May I have this dance?"

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #cinderella au #fantasy au #mod d

[wolfs-archive]

"Woah, now I know why you don't drink with us!!!!"

Summary: Y/N has a secret crush on Felix. Little did she know he too liked her. All the boys are Y/n's friend as they go to the same college and live under the same roof. The other boys did know of Felix's crush but are clueless about Y/N. Little did the blooming couple know that an anesthesia would be the one bringing them together.

Pairing: NonIdol!Felix X Female!Y/N

Genre: slightly suggestive, fluff maybe, mentions of alcohol, high Y/N

Note: Y/N is sedated, The Felix or his other roommates mentioned here are no where related to the idol Stray Kids and are just a fictional character. Minors DNI please!!!

"Initially we give less dosage of anesthesia to patients who come for the wisdom teeth removal, since Y/N's so sensitive, we had to give her higher dose. So she would be high for some time, and would come to her senses after 8 hours. Meanwhile, if she faces any issues you can tell her to take the prescribed tablets. Also she is advised not to have any spicy or hard food for a week. Only liquid food for an entire day and soft food for the rest of the week." said the Dentist. "Thank you Doctor", Han said as he helped Y/N get up and made her go out . "Y/N, I'll get the medicines and you stay here" he babied her. "Who are you? I do what I want to." Y/N retorted. "Y/n ah, I know you are a brat, but I'll let this pass once, only just because you are under sedation" a triggered Han said as he left her on the chair to get medicines. On his way to the pharmacy, he met Hyunjin. "Han ah, where is Y/N? Chan asked me to tag along in case you needed help". "Bro, I have made her sit on the chair, can you please take a look at her. She is spewing nonsense. Such a menace she is." Han replied. After the medicines were bought, Hyunjin and Han helped Y/N walk on her way to their car. Hyunjin sat in the driver's seat and a staggered Y/N went to occupy the passenger seat. Not even 5 minutes later, she was transferred to the back seat and was made to sit with Han with all the fuss she created. "Chan, we are on the way back and .... Y/N!!! stop pulling my specs" Han yelled and after a heated argument Han relied to Chan about Y/N's diet and the dentist's advise.

Y/N is usually a bubbling extroverted girl. A beautiful girl who is one year younger than I.N. A person with both beauty and brains, had a lot of people courting her, but her eyes laid only on one of her roommate, Lee Felix Yongbok. Being a bratty roommate with others and making fun of everyone with all possibilities, she has always had a soft spot for Felix and has never made fun of him. The others had never doubted this because, she had treated him like how all would treat him. But be it arriving on time for a class, or making any meal, or saving a book she had all done it ready for him. Often the members would have late night outs and parties and she being the only girl was literally treated like a younger sibling and was never allowed for any late night parties. Whenever it would be, just "Saturday Nights" at their dorm, she would always insist on having orange juice or sparkling water rather than alcohol. The members though knew it, that it was because of her lower tolerance level and that she would be difficult to handle, didn't force her. On the other hand, she didn't want to because, she knew she would pour her heart out if she drank and didn't want to miss the friendship she cherished. So, it was only when she was with he girls that she drank. That was how much she loved him.

Similar to Y/N, Felix liked her but didn't open up his heart to her for the fear of loosing her friendship. He kept it to his heart, until one day, where they had a game of truth or dare during their "Saturday Nights" and he confessed to have feelings for a particular girl. Upon closely watching his previous movements, the group concluded that it definitely was Y/N. When he asked how, each of them had their own answers for confirmation. Seungmin said, "I saw you waiting for her after class, to walk along with her to our dorm, even thoug you didn't have class that day". " One night when I went to drink water, I saw you tucking up her bedsheet " Hyunjin replied. "I saw you having her as your wallpaper on your phone" replied Changbin. He also added, "I didn't mean to peak at your phone, remember; when I had asked for your phone to text the professor. It was that time I realised it". "Not to mention, we share the same room and one day I saw you texting her, you slept with your phone. When I tried to keep the phone on the table beside, I saw a notification with Y/N's name along with a light blue heart." replied the youngest. "Don't you think I know the way steal glances of her during our combined sessions?" asked the eldest. "I knew it the moment you told me weeks ago about how you wanted pasta for dinner just because Y/N had a bad day at college. You have never done it for anyone else" said Lee Know. "Remember the one day I borrowed your book for reference? Do you not remember what you had written in it? The entire book had Y/N's name on it just like how a psychopath writes a person's name" said Han "You have been too obvious with it around us. Y/N must be either dumb or must be really clueless about it" he retorted.

Back in the car, when Han cut the call, Y/N "Bro, where is my love? I wanna meet him" she said. An astonished Han, asked who it was for which she replied that he knew him. Hyunjin in the driver's seat replied "I guess Felix is screwed!!!" Meanwhile, "You Quokka like human, where is my love? I want to meet him. Kiss him... Please bring him here." Han knew it wasn't easy and not right either to bring words out from her, so he decided, "Y/N let's play this game 10 questions. I'll ask you 10 questions and you have to answer them honestly. By the time you are done, I'll bring you your love. Deal? " he asked. "Deal" she challenged.

Even after 10 questions, he was not able to find out who it was and had arrived to their dorm. Han and Hyunjin had tricked Y/N into make her believe that they were at her "Love's" home and that she had to go in to see him. As soon as she entered, she started yelling "Lee Felix Yongbok!!!! where are you?". Hearing her voice, Felix came out to see what was going on.... "Come here!!!!" she ordered as she sat on their sofa, pointing her hands, implying him to sit near her. "What is it Y/N?" asked Felix as he sat near her. A wild Y/N, grabbed Felix's shirt by the collar, just leaving a gap of 2 inches between them. She could feel his breath pace take off and her cheeks now tinted with red. With a raspy voice, she said "Do you know how much I love you? Those freckles and the cute smile is definitely the death of me. In the future, if I get married, I want it only with you and our kids will have beautiful freckles just like you" she confessed. Everyone were too stunned to speak at the confession. Meanwhile Hyunjin, "Han, we were so clueless, the entire ride she was talking about.... was it Felix????" Han replied "Now with what she confessed, I think, no conclude that it was definitely Felix." "You know why every time you call me to have drinks I deny? It is because, if I drink, I would pour my heart out. I don't know what is in your mind and if you don't like it, I would crumble into pieces. i wouldn't be even able to face you" she said. Her hands now across his neck as she pulls him in for a deep kiss. Breaking out from the kiss, Felix says" Who said I don't like you? I've always loved you, and will love you. " as he tucked the small fringe of hair behind her ears. " Woah, now I know why you don't drink with us. It's okay." he says, as he carried her to her bedroom.

Idk if y'all want Part 2. But if you want, please feel free to ask it in the comment section.

#skz #stray kids #y/n #bang chan #christoper bang chan #han #han jisung #lee know #kim seungmin #yang jeongin #hwang hyunjin #lee min ho #lee felix #felix #lee felix yongbok #changbin #seo changbin #I.N #felix X Y/N #lee felix X Y/N

[simplydannie]

Hi, I have a few of "What if" list in Under Rageous: The Runaways, sorry if this might bit too long:

What if Velvet caught Cressida earlier trying to touch Veneer? The situation might get worse like these two might get into fight and I don't know who will win 😥?

What if the twins didn't manage to escape from her? All I can think of is in present day, Veneer's situation would be more like Beverly Marsh from 2017 movie IT, until he accidentally killed her as self-defense.

Not really a "What if" but, imagine, Velvet keeps really blame herself and cry for not saving her brother from Cressida's assault, even though he keeps saying "Don't blame yourself. It's not your fault, it's never be your fault"

Hehe, thanks 😁

You brought soooo many great ideas! Okay let me see if I can answer them in a really short story type of format. Here we go! I’ll separate them by bulletin points. Also, TRIGGER WARNING ‼️:

Red Handed:

Velvet grew concerned. It was silent… too silent. Something wasn’t right. Velvet throw the blankets off of her and quietly began to make it down to her brothers room. Walking by Cressida room, she noticed her door was open… she wasn’t there.

“No…no, no, no.” Velvet repeated to herself. Her pace quickened, she now bolted to her brother’s room. The door was closed…but it wasn’t locked. Velvet pushed open the door with such force….

…..Her heart sank. She saw her brother lying on the bed, her aunt hovering over him, attempting to slide her hands down his shorts. Veneer had tears in his eyes, attempting to hold her hand away from touching him any further.

“WITCH!” Velvet ran and jumped on Cressida. Velvet began hitting her, beating her. Cressida was twice her size, but Velvets furry and anger made her twice as strong. She put her aunt in a chokehold.

“HOW DARE YOU!” Velvet tightened her grip around her neck, she began cutting her air. “DONT YOU EVER TOUCH IM AGAIN!” Tighter and tighter she gripped.

“Velvet!” Veneer called out attempting to stop her. But she then turned around into beating Cressida l. She landed blow after blow on her face.

“VELVET!” Veneer grabbed her fist before she could his their aunt again.

“She touched you Ven!”

“I’m okay now. I’m okay.” Veneer hugged her tightly. He knew she was just trying to protect her, but killed their aunt would put her into trouble. He looked down at Cressida… blood was all over her face…but she was alive, barely. Velvet grasped his hand, she turned and spat at their aunt as she lay unconscious on the floor.

“HAG!” She cried as she pulled Veneer and bolted out the front door.

No More

The only happiness Veneer knew, was either being outside from home, or when Velvet was there. When his sister was around, Cressida wouldn’t dare touch him…. Velvet didn’t know, he didn’t dare tell her.

He was twelve when it first happened, now he was seventeen. Five years…. Five years of pain and disgust. It didn’t help that as became more attractive as he grew. It began with just touching, but by fifteen, his innocence was taken away… it only got more frequent after that.

He cringed at physical touch now. Velvet would reach to take something off his shirt, he’d flinch. She’d arch an eyebrow, but he wouldn’t say much. Veneer knew the furry that was inside his sister. He knew that she was capable of killing Cressida when she’d find out.

Many times it would happen in the middle of the night. Velvet would be sound asleep. When Cressida was in the mood she’d sneak over to his room… and lock it, then having her way with him. He’d close his eyes until everything was over, feeling disgusting at the end.

One day, Velvet was out far longer than normal. He began to panic as his aunt came home early. He locked himself in his room, hoping he’d be safe, hoping she’d forget.

KNOCK. KNOCK.

Veneer hugged his knees tighter.

“Come on sweetheart. Open the door.” He heard his aunts voice boom from the other side.

“No.” He said firmly.

“Open…. The door. Now.” Her voice was firmer as she began to jiggle the handle.

“No!” He covered his ears. The door shook harder and harder until she was able to bolt it open. Fear shot in his eyes as she made her way towards him.

“You don’t EVER so no to me!” She yelled pushing him on his back. He struggled to get her off of him. Even after what she had done to him, he still didn’t want to hurt her… but she was making it harder. He wanted to leave this behind, grab his sister, and leave.

“Please just stop! I don’t want this anymore!” He begged.

“Stop being ridiculous.” She went to move down his pants.

“Stop!” He pushed her off and stumbled to his feet…. He was growing desperate. She tried pulling back by his feet. Cressida slapped him across the face, but this time Veneer didn’t submit, he was done….. no more, he wanted no more.

“Please! Stop!” He begged again. But she kept pursuing, ripping his shirt in attempt to pull him back. She kept striking him and hitting him…. Desperation was peaking, he reach for something, anything.

“STOP!” He turned, stabbing his aunt with a pair of scissors he was able to grab. She grunted in pain, a look of surprise across her face. It took her a moment, until she finally went limp and fell to the floor….her breathing stopped.

“…. Oh my god….” He covered his mouth with his hands. “…. Oh my god…. Oh my god….” Tears began to fill his eyes. What did he do? What would Velvet think of him?… he was a monster….. he was a killer. He shrunk down and hugged his knees…. He was a murder.”

I’m Sorry

Velvet sat at her vanity, staring at herself…it was an hour before the concert. She promptly did her make as victory rang across her mind… they did it…. They made it to the top. Them, some loser teens from no where. A triumphant smile spread across her lips.

“Who’s a nobody now.” She murmured as she gazed upon herself in the mirror. All those who told them that were now beneath her, like ants, she squashed them. The loosers at school, the punks down in the under city, their aunt….her mind faded into darkness.

Aunt Cressida. That hag. The one who…. Velvet went silent as those thoughts filled her mind…. The one who took advantage of her brother. All that time, and Velvet didn’t know. All that time Veneer quietly suffered in pain.

“….. it was my fault…” she glumly told herself. If she had noticed it sooner, the sooner the would’ve been safe.

“Vels! Are you almost done? It’s almost show….” Veneers words were cut short as he walked into her dressing room. Velvet was bent over her vanity in tears. “Vels?” He quickly ran to her side.

“Leave me alone Veneer!” She demanded as she felt his hand on her shoulder, avoiding his gaze.

“No. What’s wrong? What’s going on?” She was fine just a moment ago.

She wipes the tears from her eyes, “I said go away!” She couldn’t look at him.’she couldn’t imagine the filth their aunt did to him those nights.

Veneer attempted to meet her gaze, “Tell me!” He demanded.

She never met his eyes. “It’s my fault…”

“What?”

“What that hag did to you….its my fault.”

Veneer cocked his head to the side, “…Velvet…that was… that was awhile ago… why are you…”

“BECAUSE ITS MY FAULT VENEER! If I… If I would’ve known, acted sooner… and she’s still running free!” Velvet buried her face in her hands against as she felt the tears begin to form. There was no seat for him to sit, so he knelt down in front of her.

“How many times do I have to say it… no it isn’t. None of what happened is your fault, Vels. You were already trying to protect us…”

“But I didn’t Veneer! I let her do what she did to you! You suffered for so long!….. I’m sorry.” Her shouldered began to shudder as she began to cry. He knew there would be nothing he could say that would change her mind…Velvet was stubborn like that. Instead he embraced her, holding her close, making sure she felt he was okay.

“It will never be your fault, Vels…”

#trolls band together #dreamworks trolls #trolls 3 #velvet and veneer #trolls veneer #veneer #velvet trolls #velvet #fandom #velvet and veneer trolls #dw trolls #trolls #trolls 3 veneer #trolls 3 velvet #veneer trolls #trolls velvet #trolls fanfic #trolls 3 band together #fanfic writing #fanfic #fanfics #fanfiction #oneshot #answered asks

[mxrtixnzwrld]

🤍 “ You don’t know my name “ 🤍

pairing: nanami kento x reader

summary: you have been working at this cafe that had a bakery in it. one day this attractive, older looking man comes in and asks for a loaf of bread. this is a repeating routine with every visit your coworker suspects the two of you are in love. Now she takes matters into her own hands.

tropes: coffee shop au, confessions, falling in love,

warnings: OC as side character, kind of short !!

“Hey y/n~, your usual is here~” Tsuki hummed with a smirk laid on her face. This cafe is mixed with a bakery that makes their products all in building. Ever since they added the bakery business has been booming, and with the boom came your regular Nanami.

When the bakery first opened Nanami wondered in during a lunch break to try the crepes and ever since the first bite he was supposedly hooked. From that day forward he came in during his breaks, ordered different desserts, foods, drinks, whatever and lingered to speak with you. Tsuki said he was whipped but you didn’t have time for all that, although you never failed to notice how toned his arms were or the soft bags under his eyes.

“Hello, how has your day been?” Nanami said looking between you and the menu examining both carefully.

“It’s alright, business rush was hectic.. how about you?” You asked. He sat in silence for a moment in deep thought before his eyes lock with yours.

“My day was decent. I had to stay over night at the office.” Nanami sighed and now that he pointed it out he did look tired.

“So a coffe?” You asked. He nods and smiles.

“I would also like to have one of your famous crepes,” though the smile was small he did and before you can say anything Tsuki pushes you towards the kitchen.

“Alright now y/n go make his crepe while I check him out!” Tsuki says pushing you to the kitchen. As you make his order she “talked” to him. They kept their voices low so you couldn’t hear but they seemed to be having interesting conversation. You begin making his crepe being confused but deciding not to worry about it.

“Give it to me straight, you want my coworker right? I promise y/n’s nice!” The short girl said making Nanami’s face flush.

“What would make you say that?” He asked for the brunette to begin working on his coffee with a huge grin set on her face.

“Your face when you talk to her. Or the fact you come here during your lunch break to talk to her-“ the girl lists but stops as Nanami’s eye twitches.

“Whoops.. too much? Look all I’m saying is that I can help. Just gimme your number.” Tsuki hands him the drink, a sticky note and pen. He sighs and writes it down before handing the pen and sticky note back. As he hands Tsuki the sticky note he watches you finishing up his crate in the back. You always put a lot of craftsmanship into what you made for him and always had such a determined, focused expression across your face.

He doubts he’d ever say it to you but in the visits he makes he becomes more drawn to you, your dreams and the way you held eye contact when ever he spoke.

“Here you go..” you trail off realizing you never asked for his name even though he comes in almost daily. He stands speechless before clearing his throat.

“Nanami, and thank you..” he says with a small smile before leaving as he became hot in the face.

“I got his number-“

“You have his what?!”

“Girl just call him,” Tsuki groaned as the two closed up shop.

“But why would I? I have to focus on work..” you sigh looking at his number in your phone.

“Girl you need to loosen up, you like what you see right?” She said by your side. You slowly nod which feeds into her antics. Tsuki snatches up your phone and presses call.

You look to her in shock as the phone rings into the silence before going straight to voicemail. You looked at Tsuki before she mouths to go ahead and talk.

“Uhm hey Nanami.. this is the girl from the bakery. I was wondering if you would want to hang out sometime- I know it’s weird how I got your number but I always see you in here and.. I think you’re kinda cute. Text me and let me know.” You said before Tsuki hung up.

“See look at you girl, now just sit and wait!” Tsuki says as you both head to the back to finish stocking. The two of you giggle and joke as you both moving cups and ingredients from the front to the back. Tsuki teases time to time about how “you were yappin to him.” Which you roll your eyes and finish up.

You lock the doors behind you and Tsuki before your phone goes off. And there lies a text from Nanami himself.

-

Nanami🩵

I have Sunday afternoon off if you’d like to go out for lunch.

You

I’d like that a lot, I’ll see you then

-

“See, I told you he’s head over heels for you~!” Tsuki teased reading over your shoulder making you chuckle and roll your eyes.

You don’t know if he was but you sure are.

Authors note: ngl I didn’t know what direction to go w/ this but I hope this is good. Like I said before I stopped writing and just got back into it so I hope you enjoyed it!!

©mxrtixnzwrld. do not copy, modify, translate, repost any of my work! reblogging is greatly appreciated!!

#Spotify #fanfic #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #anime #mxrtixnzwrld

[angelslittlewritingcorner]

I have a Adam x lute x Reader idea

What if they played a card game (like uno) or just a game in general but whenever someone loses they have to take off a piece of their clothes but then lute and Adam team up to make the reader lose almost every round then they play with the prize 🤭🫣

I thought the idea was really cool and had to write it straight away. Hope you like it

Warnings: Language and Smut a lot of it , MDNI

Masterlist

Dating Adam and Lute

PLAYING GAMES

‘Snacks?’ ‘Yes’ ‘Pillows?’ ‘Yes’ ‘Drinks?’ ‘Yes’ ‘Games?’ ‘Yes’ ‘Adam?’ ‘Should be here in a minute’ Lute nodded in satisfaction and turned to Y/N. She had coerced the arms into helping her set up the game night. Y/N didn't complain though, at least she got to spend more time with her friend. At last Adam and she had more than just a few hours a day to spend with her. Sera was always hogging her and forcing her to do chores. Sometimes she felt really neglected.

The door of the three's flat was flung open and Adam stomped in with a pizza box in his hand. ‘I've got the goods ladies,’ he said and winked at Y/N. She giggled slightly and held out her hands. ‘Nah, you'll eat it by yourself later’ he said and kicked his shoes into a corner. He took the pizza and put it on the table where everything was already ready. ‘So can we get started?’ ‘Yes we can, we were just waiting for you Adam’ Lute said and sat down opposite him. Y/N grabbed one of the cushions and sat down at the table too. ‘What do we start with?’ ‘Strippoker’ Adam said and Lute rolled her eyes. ‘No’ ‘Mano then something else with cards. I want to play cards!’ They discussed for a short while and then decided on a game. They played a few rounds, ate, drank and talked about their day. Y/N couldn't imagine anything better at that moment. Quiet moments like this were far too rare with the two of them

‘The game's getting boring, let's make it a bit more interesting,’ said Adam, stuffing a few crisps into his mouth. ‘Let me guess, you want to do your usual stupid things again?’ asked Lute, grinning slightly. She too found such moments with her lovers relaxing. ‘Fine,’ said Y/N. After all, it was always fun when the situation got spicy.

Lute lost the first round. She took her socks off and Adam just rolled his eyes. Adam lost the next two rounds and was sitting in front of them in just socks and boxers. Y/N soon followed his example and was also only wearing underwear. ‘Damn Lute how do you always do that?’ ‘Well, I'd say it's easy to do’ She brushed her hair back slightly and scrutinised Y/N intently. That could only mean something good, Y/N thought, and she sat up straight to show off her bust. Maybe she could make Lute lose today.

Y/N stared at her cards in disbelief - she had lost again. She only had one piece of clothing left. Her tactics had not worked. She sighed and stood up. Slowly, she pulled down her panties and bared herself to her two lovers. ‘I don't want to play anymore,’ she said and pulled a pout. ‘Tough luck but me,’ Adam said and stood up as well. ‘Still, I must say the prize looks pretty hot, doesn't it Dangertits?’ Lute nodded. ‘We really deserve it’ ‘WE?! Have you been playing together again?’ Lute smiled innocently at her. ‘Yes, at least it's fun to have you whimpering among us’

The two of them had tricked her again. She rolled her eyes and Adam put a hand to her cheek. ‘Kitten you have to be able to lose’ before Y/N could say anything back, he put his lips on hers and massaged her mouth. That idiot, why is he so good at it? How could she be mad at him? He put a hand on her waist and pulled her closer to him. She didn't even hear Lute walk away to get something. Adam's hand wandered down to her bum and massaged it lightly while their tongues engaged in a battle she was only too willing to lose.

Adam only broke away from her when they both heard a low growl. Lute apparently wanted to have fun too. She immediately took Adam's place and kissed Y/N. She held her close to her and stroked her spine. Goosebumps spread across Y/N's skin and a familiar heat spread through her belly. If Adam kissed her like a man, then Lute kissed her like a god. She could go on like this for hours.

While she was busy with Lute, she felt Adam spreading a little lubricant on her. At least they weren't going to hurt her today. That was good, because she was still a little sore from the last time. Adam pushed a finger inside her and she moaned into Lute's mouth. She pushed against his fingers and the heat in her belly continued to spread and seemed to take over her. He slipped another finger inside her and stretched her a little. Y/N reached for Lute's trousers. She needed more physical contact and the light-haired girl still had far too much on.

She briefly detached herself from her and got rid of her clothes before Y/N would tear them. Adam pulled his fingers out of her and slowly began to push his dick into her. She hissed slightly. The stretch he created inside her was heavenly. Lute pulled her back against him and Adam took this as an opportunity to push himself deeper into her. She was trapped between her lovers and yet felt freer than ever. She let her hand wander to Lute's breasts and began to play with them while Adam thrust himself into her. ‘Fuck,’ he grunted, digging his fingers into her hips. ‘Do you always have to be this tight?’ She nodded and kissed Lute's neck. Lute kept stroking her head and mumbling something about ‘good girl’ Y/N let her other hand wander between Lute's legs and began to play with her. She was so wet for her. She always seemed so hard on the outside but she could be different. She slipped a finger inside Lute and gasped as Adam increased his pace. ‘More’ Lute demanded and Y/N had difficulty obeying her command. However, she slipped another finger inside her and matched Adam's pace. Soon the three of them were a ball of body parts and moans. Y/n climaxed a few times, clawing at one of them in the process. How did they manage to get her to give herself to them every time? A few hours later, Y/n slumped down and pressed herself against Adam's chest, who laughed lightly.

‘Fuck that was good’ Adam said and Lute nodded. ‘Another round of cards’ ‘Yeah’ This was going to be a long night.

#hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin vaggie #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel charlie #adam #lute #adam x lute x reader #adam x lute #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin lute #lute x reader #hazbin hotel exorcists #guitarspear

[scary-grace]

Skin Hunger (Chapter 2) -- a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

There's no such thing as a good night at work when you work in the world's most infamous brothel for monsters, but your night takes a turn for the worse when you find yourself serving drinks to visiting half-vampire Shigaraki Tomura. You don't mean to catch his interest, and you don't mean to start a conversation. You definitely don't mean to get him drunk. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Life in Asylum continues, and in the endless scroll of days and nights, cleanups in empty rooms and mop-ups in private parties, it’s almost possible to forget about the half-vampire who will be back at the next full moon. Almost, but not quite. Vampires are a rare enough occurrence in Asylum that everyone’s talking about Shigaraki Tomura and his master, and since they’re going to be regulars, Overhaul provides more than a little education for the staff about the one type of inhuman next to no one has experience with.

Most of the workers don’t care, but you pay close attention. Your knowledge of vampires contains next to nothing concrete. You need to learn, if you want to hold your own during your next conversation with Shigaraki Tomura.

Vampirism is spread through a bite – true. Everyone who’s bitten becomes a vampire – false. Apparently, creating a new vampire requires intention on the part of the vampiric sire, which probably helps to keep the population down. The mechanism that causes half-vampirism is unclear, but what’s perfectly clear is that half-vampires are something unusual. They need to consume blood, just like vampires do, but unlike vampires, they also need to eat. They still have heartbeats, still need to breathe, still need to see the sun every so often. Beyond that, though, no one’s able to describe what powers a half-vampire has, or the degree of strength advantage they have over an ordinary human, or whether they can turn into a true vampire – or how they do it. The question of what Shigaraki’s capable of is one you’re not able to answer, and it bothers you. Then again, if Shigaraki had correctly guessed what you are, he’d be equally in the dark as to what you’re able to do.

Most inhuman species have some sort of biological limitations, just like humans do. Werewolves still need to eat and sleep, and while bullets will damage them, silver bullets are the true threat. Liches and demons can’t set foot on holy ground, no matter which faith has consecrated a given spot, and shapeshifters lose their forms if they get too tired. Everybody knows all about vampires and sunlight. Faeries don’t have limitations. Faeries have rules.

Faeries can’t lie. Lying has physical consequences. Faeries have given names and true names, and while the true names are the most dangerous, even knowledge of a title or nickname can grant some degree of power over them. Faeries are vulnerable to iron, but not in the same way werewolves are vulnerable to silver. A gift offered by a faery is never just a gift; either it comes in repayment for an earlier favor, or it comes with strings attached. Nothing your father’s people give is ever given freely.

And that’s where you got yourself in trouble. You did Shigaraki a favor by using your glamour on him. If that particular rule applies to you as a half-fey, you’ve bound Shigaraki to you until he can repay the debt.

All of that would be enough to deal with heading into the next full moon, and you feel like it’s possible to handle. But three nights before the vampires are set to arrive, the itching starts, and things go from manageable to impossible in the space of an hour.

The last time this happened, you took a few days off of work until it was over, but it’s occurring over a much larger area on your body – your entire left arm, shoulder to wrist, and it’s not going to peel away until it’s ready. If you try, you’ll open yourself up to infection, and if that doesn’t kill you, the way it’ll look once it’s healed will probably make you wish you were dead. You can manage not to scratch while you’re on shift, but when you’re off, you’re scratching constantly, and every last one of your coworkers has something to say about it.

“Better not do that where the boss will see,” Nemoto remarks as you’re all eating in the cramped servants’ mess. “He finds fleas disgusting.”

Nemoto knows damn well you don’t have fleas; he just doesn’t like you, because his demonic ability to force confessions doesn’t work on faeries, and that includes you. The maid you’re sitting next to recoils away from you, and across the table, Tengai rolls his eyes. “It’s not fleas,” he says. “Haven’t any of you seen a half-fey molt before?”

“It’s not molting,” you say uselessly. It would only be molting if you did it regularly.

“Of course none of you have seen it,” Chrono says. Usually he eats with Overhaul, but sometimes Overhaul can’t stand being around even his right-hand man. “Half-fey in general are rare, and her variety of half-fey is rarer still.”

Everyone looks at you. You can’t tell if they’re waiting for you to explain or thinking that they’ll figure it out if they just stare hard enough. Either way, your face turns red, and Chrono heaves a dramatic sigh. “For most of you half-breeds, it doesn’t matter which of your parents was the inhuman. It matters for faeries.”

Tabe burps. “Why?”

Why questions are usually safe to ask Chrono – asking Overhaul a why question results in either a flat, irritated look or a two-hour lecture about the minutiae of the topic. “It’s unclear,” Chrono says. “What is clear, however, is that half-fey children take after their fathers in appearance and lifespan, and their mothers in magical ability.”

“Huh?”

Chrono doesn’t have his mask on. This time you can see him roll his eyes. “Children of human fathers and faery mothers resemble humans, and have human lifespans. Despite that, they have significant magical abilities.”

“How strong are they?” Rappa asks through a full mouth. “Stronger than regular human magicians?”

Chrono shrugs. You, meanwhile, think about a conspiracy theory you read in one of Overhaul’s books – that all human magic-users are secretly matrilineal half-fey, whose mothers either abandoned them to their fathers or swapped out the child of an unknowing human couple for one of their own. If that was the case, nobody would ever know. Other than the magic, matrilineal half-fey are indistinguishable from ordinary humans. “Hang on,” Setsuno says. “If half-fey take after their fey parent in how they look, how come she looks so human?”

“She doesn’t,” Chrono says. He looks to you, and you lower your hand from your shoulder. You’ve been using the cover of the conversation to scratch to your heart’s content. “Show them.”

You give him a pleading look, which he ignores, and finally you rise from the table and back away. You’re still wearing your uniform, so you pull up the skirt on your right side, revealing your leg. The table recoils as a group, and you’re pretty sure everybody’s thinking exactly what comes out of Rappa’s mouth. “What the fuck?”

“Patrilineal half-fey inherit their father’s lifespan,” Chrono says, “and their appearance – or some of it. They appear to be completely human until they reach physical maturity, at which point they begin a partial transformation. You can see the patches where fey skin has grown in to replace human skin, creating a patchwork which renders the half-fey unable to conceal their true nature.”

It’s not just your skin. Your ears have begun to change shape, growing pointed at the tips, and the natural color of your eyes has taken on a strange iridescent overlay. You need to blink less than you used to, sometimes – other times, it’s a struggle to keep your eyes open in the light without sticky, pearlescent tears oozing from them. If your father had been one of any of half a dozen varieties of fey, you’d have seen changes with your mouth, with your hands, even with the way you breathe. But while your mother never told you anything concrete about your father, she was at least able to confirm that he didn’t have gills.

Your transformation is mainly cosmetic. That doesn’t make it any less terrible, and cosmetic is a relative term. “Due to their appearances and lack of other gifts, half-fey used to make frequent appearances in human freak shows,” Chrono continues. “Some also theorize that the reason they’re unwelcome in faery society is due to their ugliness.”

“Oh.” Your coworkers are nodding at this, like it makes sense to them. Nemoto’s looking right at you when he responds. “I get it.”

You know you’re not pretty, but that doesn’t mean you like having it hammered home. You drop the right side of your skirt back down and sit again, and spend the rest of the meal picking at your food. Your appetite’s gone, and your shoulder is still itching. Even though you’re exhausted from your shift, you’re going to have a hard time falling asleep.

You’re making a beeline back to your quarters, with the intention of trying to shower off the itch and falling asleep immediately afterwards, when Chrono catches up to you. “Aren’t you going to thank me?”

“Thank you?” Backtalking to your boss is a terrible idea, but you can’t hold onto your skepticism. “For what?”

“I explained your situation, so you wouldn’t have to.” Chrono looks pleased with himself. “I did you a favor.”

“You could have done that without calling me ugly.”

“Should I have lied? It’s not as if you’re unaware,” Chrono says. He reaches out, hooks the neckline of your uniform with one finger, and pulls it aside. “How much skin are you going to lose this time?”

“Everything on my arm,” you say. Chrono looks surprised, and you seize the opportunity to shy away from his hand. “Goodnight, boss.”

“Your arm,” Chrono muses. “That’ll be a sight to see.”

Yes, it will. The juxtaposition of smooth, perfect, oil-slick shimmering faery skin with plain human skin on the same body is enough to make anyone’s skin crawl, yours included. You turn away from Chrono, and you’re almost out of earshot, almost to safety, when you hear him speak again. “You’ll have to show me when it’s done.”

That’s not the first comment like that you’ve heard from Chrono in the past year or two. They’re becoming increasingly frequent, and you know what they mean, just like you know you don’t want anything to do with them. You mumble another goodnight and duck into the female servants’ quarters, shedding your clothes and slipping a faint glamour over yourself as you step into the shower. You’re pretty sure there aren’t scrying mirrors in here, but at the same time, you’re pretty sure that if any guests wanted to pay to watch the maids shower, Overhaul would find a way to make it happen.

The hot water helps dull the itch, for now. You dry off and change into your sleeping clothes, noting every spot on your body where your heritage has surfaced. Your right leg is covered, thigh to calf, wide sashes and ribbons of fey skin interrupting your skin, jagged and gaudy. Your torso is covered, too, but you were smarter with that – when it was time, you peeled your dying skin away in a single piece rather than clawing it to ribbons. There’s some on your lower back that you never tried to peel away at all, and as a result, the fey skin is pitted and scarred. It looks hideous. You look hideous.

You know it’s true, but at the same time, you know you’re lucky. You’ve seen photos of half-fey whose fey skin broke through on their faces, unmistakable and impossible to hide. At least you’ve got a prayer of hiding this. Or you will, once you’ve peeled this next sheet of skin away to reveal what’s beneath. You crawl into bed and close your eyes, hoping that the itching will wake you in the middle of the night, so severe that you’ll have no choice but to peel the skin off right then and there. The waiting is the worst part. You just want it to be over before the full moon.

But it isn’t over before the full moon. It’s the biggest piece of skin you’ve lost – the last big piece you’ll lose, if only half your skin changes – and it’s clinging on for dear life. You beg Overhaul to help you, to employ the magic he uses to reshape the workers’ bodies when they’re injured, but he refuses. “The reaction between your meager magic and mine is too unpredictable,” he says. “I can’t help you.”

“Then let me have the night off,” you plead. He shakes his head. “Please. I won’t be any use if the skin breaks through.”

“You have my full permission to take your break to remove it,” Overhaul says, and you bite back tears. You were barely functional after you excised the skin on your torso. There’s no way you’ll be able to work with your left arm freshly peeled. “Not only is it a full moon, it’s also the autumnal equinox. We’ll need your glamours if any of the half-dozen rituals scheduled to take place here get out of hand.”

The equinoxes are the only nights where ordinary humans are allowed into Asylum, and they’re barely ordinary – they’re cultists, devoted to the worship of specific demons, conducting rituals that would get them thrown in prison in the human world. “And even if that were not the case,” Overhaul says, “there is a certain half-vampire scheduled to arrive with his master, and I doubt anyone else will be able to get him drunk.”

You were already stressed about running into Shigaraki Tomura again, but the idea of seeing him tonight sends you into a near-panic. “Sir –”

“That’s enough,” Overhaul says, and you fall silent in a hurry. “The moon is about to rise in Kiribati, and you aren’t in uniform. Get changed.”

You won’t win this. You know you won’t. You leave Overhaul’s study, hoping that the skin on your arm will hold out for another twenty-four hours – and hoping that Shigaraki Tomura’s master decided to leave him at home.

The autumnal equinox is fairly quiet as far as equinoxes go, but it’s not often that it occurs on a full moon, and from the moment the moon comes up over an even slightly populated area, Asylum devolves into barely-controlled chaos. The casualty count for workers exceeds an average full moon within the first three hours, and for the first time in a while, Overhaul comes out of his study to help repair the bodies rather than expecting them to be brought to him. Chrono equips the workers with alarm sigils, which will trigger a warning if their heart rates drop below a certain threshold. It’s an unusual precaution, but you know better than to think it’s out of any concern for the workers’ health – more that if too many of them die, Asylum won’t be able to serve all the guests who are flooding through the door.

You’re doing some of everything – a little cleaning, a little mopping up, a little belting a demon in the face with a mop when they won’t let go of the badly injured worker you’re trying to take back to Overhaul. You’re busy enough that you can almost forget about the itching, about the faery skin that’s trying to erupt through your skin on your left arm. For the first seven hours of the night, you run yourself ragged, doing whatever Overhaul’s ordered you to do, racing from floor to floor and trying to spot trouble before it begins. You’ve lived in Asylum your entire life. There’s nobody who knows their way around better than you do.

At hour eight, Overhaul summons you to the makeshift infirmary. When you get there, you spot a pile of discarded gloves on his right, a bubbling cauldron on his left, and a newly healed worker sprawled out in front of him. “Get out,” Overhaul orders the worker, and she scrambles upright, falls, and crawls unsteadily towards the exit. The instant she’s gone, Overhaul plunges his hands into whatever’s boiling inside the cauldron.

You don’t want to know what’s in there, and based on the grimace on Overhaul’s face, you don’t even want to go near him. But he summoned you. You step forward. “Sir?”

“The first ritual is about to begin. You’ll be supervising it.”

Your stomach drops. “I can’t,” you say. Overhaul mutters a curse under his breath. “I can’t! I don’t have magic –”

“You think throwing more magic at an out-of-control ritual will solve the problem? Playing stupid won’t get you out of it.” Overhaul lifts his hands from the cauldron and you startle at the sight of them. His fingers have been eaten down nearly to the bone, and in spite of the fact that he’s repairing them before your eyes, you can’t help but feel nauseous. “There are supply kits in my study, with the measures necessary to contain a ritual. All that’s required of you is to deploy them. Go.”

“Sir –”

“I don’t have time for this,” Overhaul snaps at you, and you flinch. You’ve never seen him this stressed before. “Chrono is needed elsewhere. None of the others but you possess a sensitivity to magic, and no one other than me is able to perform the repairs. Succeed at this and you’ll be rewarded appropriately. I don’t need to tell you what will happen if you fail.”

You know exactly what will happen if you fail. You nod mutely. “The supply kits can be found in the furthest cupboard. Hold out your hand,” Overhaul says. When you do, he traces a rune into your right palm. “Use this to unlock them. Go.”

You have more questions – like how to figure out which countermeasure to use first, or how to tell when they’re needed in the first place – but Rappa’s coming through the door carrying another worker, and Overhaul’s attention shifts from you. He’s not going to change his mind, and there’s no one else who can do the job. There’s nothing for you to do but head for Overhaul’s study. Being expected to supervise a ritual is bad enough. Being late to it is probably worse.

The cultists are making final preparations for their ritual in the smallest of Asylum’s three gardens. You’re not sure which cult this is, but they brought their own sacrifice, bound hand and foot in spite of the fact that they’re unconscious. You try not to look too hard at them. You don’t look too hard at the cultists, either. You pry open the supply kit and study the items within. Now that you’re looking at it, they seem pretty straightforward. Salt and consecrated chalk, for sealing the paths leading to the garden off from the rest of Asylum. A set of wardstones to keep anyone from entering once the ritual begins. A sheet of runes to trace in midair, as an extra precaution. None of it requires more than the tiniest amount of magic. Maybe this is doable.

You confirm that all the cultists are in the garden, then get to work, starting with the salt and chalk across each path leading into the garden. Next it’s the wardstones. The cultists are using a pentagram in their rituals, which means you need a hexagram to contain them properly. Wardstones are simple enough to set. You set them spinning with a twist of your fingers and leave them to hover. A few more of these, then a few sigils, and then you’re all set. You can do this.

A single footfall and a shadow falling across yours are the only warnings you get before a familiar voice rings out from behind you. “If you don’t want people to think you’re a witch, you shouldn’t spend so much time casting spells,” Shigaraki Tomura says, and you nearly jump out of your skin. “Did you miss me?”

It takes an effort not to throw the wardstone at him. “I’m not a witch. And this isn’t a spell.”

“It looks like a spell,” Shigaraki says. He looks way too pleased with himself for reasons beyond your understanding. “That’s two spells I’ve seen you do. Your boss is a warlock, so I don’t get why you’d lie about being a witch.”

You were dreading meeting Shigaraki again, in part because you were sure he’d guessed that you were half-fey. Apparently not. “That wasn’t a spell, and neither is this,” you say. “I’ll show you.”

“Huh?”

You motion for him to come forward, and he does, looking way too suspicious. What does he think you’re going to do? You’re not the one who drinks blood. “Hold this,” you say, and push the wardstone into his hand. “Now, do this –”

You show him the proper gesture to activate it, and he tries it – and drops it, just like you did the first time you tried it. Before you can tell him to try again, he picks it up and looks at you. “Show me again.”

You show him the gesture, and this time he copies it much more closely. The wardstone spins out of his hand and hovers in midair, the last piece of the hexagram you’ve been constructing falling into place. Shigaraki looks surprised, then pleased with himself again. You’re less annoyed with it this time, mostly because it’s given you a chance to prove your point. “You can do it, and you have even less magic than I do. It’s not a spell.”

“This one isn’t a spell,” Shigaraki agrees. He’s mimicking the gesture again, even better on the third try. “The other one was.”

A glamour’s not a spell. If it was a spell, it could be replicated by anyone else, but your glamour is an extension of your nature as a half-fey. You won’t be able to convince Shigaraki otherwise without outing yourself, so you keep quiet, and you set back off around the garden, headed for where you left the supply kit. Shigaraki follows you. “I went to the bar. You weren’t there,” he says. “Are you avoiding me or something?”

“I don’t work in the lounge most of the time. That night I was just filling in.” You’re conscious, suddenly, of the fact that you’re in the maid uniform – and that the maid uniform doesn’t come with even the most useless of masks. “To be honest, I didn’t know you were here.”

Shigaraki makes an affronted sound, but you’ve reached the supply kit, and you have runesigns to trace. In the garden, the cultists are moving into position to begin their ritual. You hold the sheet in one hand and begin to trace the sigils in midair. “What do you do most of the time, then?” Shigaraki asks. “If you’re not down there.”

“I clean.” You make the mistake of gesturing at your uniform, and Shigaraki takes the invitation to look you up and down. “And whatever else Overhaul needs me to do.”

“Like this. What is this?”

“There are cult rituals happening tonight. Overhaul and Chrono are both busy, so they asked me to keep an eye on this one.”

“Huh.” Shigaraki looks away from you, into the garden. “My master had a cult for a while.”

You really don’t know what to think of that, except that if it had been relevant, it would have been the first thing Overhaul and Chrono told the staff about. “How old is your master?”

“Old,” Shigaraki says, which tells you absolutely nothing. “What about your boss?”

“Also old.”

Shigaraki snorts. “What about you?” You clam up instantly, and he rolls his eyes. “Come on. Either your name, what you are, or how old you are. Give me at least one.”

Out of those three pieces of information, your age is the one that won’t get you in trouble. That doesn’t mean you won’t make him work for it. “You first.”

“Come on,” Shigaraki complains. You wait, watching as the cultists pick up their unconscious sacrifice and lay him out on the altar they built out of bones they brought from home. “Not that it matters or anything, but I’m twenty-three. Your turn.”

“Twenty-three,” you repeat. You can’t tell if you’re surprised by his age or not, but the fact that he’s still counting it means he’s still mortal. Your age stopped mattering two years ago, but you’ve kept count anyway. “Me, too.”

“Was that so hard?” Shigaraki grins, just a little too widely. The only thing that keeps you from calling it a leer is an instinct that it’s not born out of triumph at getting one over on you. A moment later, you’re proven right. “I knew it.”

Why does it matter to him that you’re the same age? A low hum begins to vibrate through the air, and the sigil hovering just in front of you wavers. The ritual’s beginning, and you need to focus. Unfortunately for you, Shigaraki’s still here. You need to shake him off. “I’m surprised you’re not with your master. Aren’t you here to feed?”

“He’s here to feed. I’m here to learn,” Shigaraki says. Learn what? “This looks more interesting than whatever else is going on around here.”

The hum in the air intensifies. Beneath the sleeve of your uniform, you feel your skin beginning to crawl. “If you’re going to stay, keep quiet. I need to concentrate.”

“Right. Witches need to concentrate when they’re doing magic.”

You’ve decided not to respond to any more witch jokes. The cultists are chanting in one of the demonic languages, drawing in close to surround the altar and obscure the sacrifice. Now that you think about it, you’re not sure what kind of sacrifice this is, and regardless of whether it’s symbolic or literal, you don’t want to watch it. You especially don’t want to watch it with Shigaraki – Shigaraki, who’s standing next to you, head tilted to one side, scratching idly at his neck. Seeing him scratch makes you want to scratch. You peer down into the supply kit instead, wondering which of the objects inside you’re supposed to use first if things get out of hand.

“Is there food here?”

Out of all the things Shigaraki might have said, you weren’t expecting that. “Huh?”

“Food,” Shigaraki says again. “Is there food here?”

It feels like round two of the WiFi conversation, except this time, you’re able to give him the answer he’s hoping for. “Yes. Why?”

“After this. We should get some.”

“Um –”

“You get breaks, right? Even witches have to eat.” Shigaraki’s scratching harder than before, and he’s not looking at you. “I’m hungry.”

He is really skinny, but he’s also a half-vampire. You know half-vampires still need blood, and you focus on that question instead of the other, worse one. “Not thirsty?”

“I have money. I can pay for it,” Shigaraki says, ignoring you. “And you helped me out the last time I was here.”

“I’m the one who got you drunk.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I don’t owe –”

“Stop talking.” You’ve interrupted him, but it’s not enough – he’s already opening his mouth again, and you slap your hand down over it before he can get another word out. “I mean it.”

Shigaraki’s red eyes are wide. You can’t tell if it’s with affront or with shock. His lips move against the palm of your hand, dry and rough, and a weird jolt travels through you, raising the hairs on your arms and the back of your neck. It’s drowned out a second later by a vibration through the air that makes you stagger. The sigil in front of you dissolves, unable to stand in the face of another wave emanating from the site of the ritual.

The wave abates, for a moment, and you think you’re safe – but the next thing you know, you and Shigaraki are both staggering as the vibration travels through the ground in addition to the air. You don’t need anybody to tell you that the ritual’s gotten out of hand, and you dive into the supply kit, searching desperately for something that can counteract a demonic curse. Something whips past you from the opposite direction, slicing your cheek. You don’t look up. You’re busy.

Shigaraki catches Overhaul’s message and pries it open, reads it aloud. “Your boss wants you to play a song. How are you supposed to play a song when phones don’t work in here?”

“Tell me you don’t really think that music only comes out of phones.” You pull a music box out of the bottom of the supply kit, dust it off, and open it. No music comes out – you must have to turn the handle. “Be quiet.”

Music begins to emanate from the box after two turns of the handle – a thin, quiet voice, singing what sounds like a lullaby in a language you don’t speak. You doubt the cultists speak it, either. But it doesn’t matter what the words are, or even that the singer is at least a little tone-deaf. All that matters is the glamour that drips from every note, stronger and heavier than anything you’ve ever called up. It’s a faery’s voice, and it’s already affecting Shigaraki. He sways sideways, falls hard against a column, the curse he mumbles more slurred than his voice was when he was drunk. The glamour is almost overpowering. If you weren’t half-fey, you’d fall prey to it yourself.

It’s strong enough to stagger Shigaraki and disorient you, but it’s not having much of an effect on the ritual itself. The vibrations are still traveling through the air, and worse, you can feel them in the ground beneath your feet. You keep turning the handle of the music box with no change in the strength of the demonic curse emanating from the center of the garden. Why isn’t it working?

The answer occurs to you just as Shigaraki speaks up. “It’s too quiet,” he mumbles. “Witch. Make it louder.”

You can’t. The despair barely has time to settle in before the answer occurs to you. You can’t make the voice from the music box louder, but you can make sure it’s not the only fey voice in the garden. You clear your throat, coat your voice in your glamour, and begin to sing.

It’s nothing – some song you liked when you could walk freely in the human world, the first thing that comes to mind. You make an effort to match the key the music box is singing in, and you project both your voice and your glamour, doing your best to build on what the faint fey voice is already providing. You think it might be working. You’re not sure.

What you do know is that Shigaraki’s figured you out. You can see him out of the corner of your eye, still slumped against the column, staring unabashedly at you as you turn the handle of the music box and sing. You’re able to console yourself with the thought that your uniform hides your patchwork fey skin before you realize what a stupid thing that is to think about – right now, or ever. Your throat is starting to hurt, your vocal cords straining under the weight of the glamour. You aren’t sure how much longer you can keep this up.

The vibrations from the ritual begin to fade just as your voice begins to crack, and it gives you the willpower to hold on a little longer, the notes you sing growing increasingly fractured and hoarse. By the time your voice gives out completely, the demonic energy’s faded to the point where the music box is enough to counter it. Your ears are ringing, so much that you almost miss Chrono’s footsteps as he approaches. He notes Shigaraki, then looks to you. “You should have called for help.”

“From who?” Your voice sounds awful. You cough. “I took care of it.”

“If that demonic energy had gotten into the flux field, it could have destabilized the entire dimension,” Chrono snaps. “Someone as weak as you has no business trying to contain –”

“If she can’t contain it, you shouldn’t have sent her to watch it.” Shigaraki levers himself upright. “Something was off about that ritual. Isn’t it your job to catch things like that? Or are you really okay with a bunch of human cultists sacrificing half-demons in your pocket dimension?”

“Half-demon?” Chrono swears. “They wouldn’t dare.”

“I can smell its blood.” Shigaraki shrugs. “She saved your ass. Give her a bonus or something.”

Chrono handles being told what to do by people other than Overhaul about as well as Rappa handles being told what to do by anybody. His shoulders stiffen, and his hand closes around your upper arm, venting a sharp jolt of magic into you rather than loosing it at Shigaraki. At least, that’s what you think he’s doing. Then the skin on your right arm, itchy and crawling since three days ago, erupts with an itch so sharp and acidic that it almost feels like a burn.

Your arm is on fire. You’ve felt this before, and you know instantly that you can’t leave it a second longer. “I need my break,” you say to Chrono, your voice strained.

He lets you go with a sharp nod. You turn and all but run from the garden, already clawing off your apron.

No time to get back to the servants’ quarters, but Asylum is full of places to hide if you know where to look. And you know where to look. With a master rune like the one you carry, you can open up passageways and closets that even the savviest of guests don’t know exist, and you’ve used them more times than you’d like to admit. You reach the nearest of the passageways and raise the rune to tap against the wall, only for the agonizing itch in your left arm to flare to new heights. Your body contorts in discomfort, and your right hand falls back to your side – and then, so fast that you barely register it, someone slips the rune from around your wrist.

It's Shigaraki, and he’s got enough of a height advantage over you that he can hold the rune out of reach just by extending his arm. You don’t have time for this. You really don’t have time for this. You can feel the fey skin beginning to eat through yours from below. “Give it back!”

“So that was why you wouldn’t let me say I owed you. You’re a faery, not a witch.” Shigaraki’s grinning like he’s figured something out, even though the clue you gave him was a thousand times more obvious than the clue you got a month ago. “Why didn’t you want me to owe you one? My master is powerful. You could have asked me for anything.”

“I don’t want anything from you.”

“Except this.” Shigaraki studies the rune. You reach for it again and he holds out his other hand to forestall you. “You want this, and I want a straight answer. The ritual’s done. Do you want to go get food with me or not?”

The small part of you that’s not panicking, caught in the desperate need to get the rune back, to get away, notices how he’s phrased the question. He knows that faeries can’t lie, and for some bizarre reason, he’s decided to corner you on a question so mundane that you wonder if you’re hallucinating it. Why would he waste a question he thinks you’ll have to answer on something this stupid?

It doesn’t matter, because half-fey can lie as much as they want, and because you’re done playing around. You glamour your left arm, faking a clumsy feint, and when Shigaraki shifts away from it, you snatch the rune from his hand with your right. He’s between you and the wall, so you turn away, pressing the rune against the opposite wall and opening up the passageway there. You dive through it, the relief at being out of the hallway marred only by the fact that Shigaraki followed you in.

The passageway you were aiming for originally had space. This one is a close fit for one person, tight for two, but you’re out of time to be picky. You can’t get your arm out of your dress without unbuttoning it partway. “What are you doing?” Shigaraki asks, clearly startled, as you undo the buttons one-handed and draw your arm from your sleeve. “Are you transforming?”

Even the slightest motion of your arm sets off a wave of pins and needles, and you grit your teeth as you work it free. Bared from wrist to shoulder, your arm looks awful, mottled, bulging in odd places, almost writhing in others – like the fey skin really is trying to claw its way to freedom from the inside out. Seeing what it looks like only hardens your resolve. You dig your fingers into your shoulder, trying to pry up a piece of skin. If you get a good enough grip on the first one, you can peel off the rest in one sheet.

But you can’t get a grip. Your hand is shaking too much, or your nails are too short, or something. You remember too late that the only other time you peeled the skin back, you made the first incision with a pocketknife. Overhaul doesn’t let the staff carry weapons. You don’t have anything on you that’s sharp enough to cut through your skin, and if you can’t – there’s no way you’ll be able to scratch all your skin away before the fey skin eats through. It’ll be agonizing. It’ll take forever. And Shigaraki will be watching you the entire time.

Shigaraki. You turn to him, desperate and hating yourself for it. You know that guests are searched for weapons when they arrive, but maybe – “Do you have anything sharp?”

“Like a knife?” Shigaraki shakes his head. Then his expression shifts, and he raises one hand to his mouth, pressing the pad of his thumb against one of his incisors. You see blood well up where the tooth breaks his skin. “My teeth aren’t as sharp as my master’s –”

If they can draw blood, they’re sharp enough. You beckon him forward. “Please.”

Part of you is expecting him to bargain. Any inhuman would, if they had one of the Fair Folk at their mercy – they’d never get better terms for any deal they wished to make. But Shigaraki steps forward, closing the slight distance between you without asking what you’ll give him in exchange. His hands are dry, his palms rough like before, as they close around your wrist and raise your hand towards his mouth. “Here?”

His breath is hot against your wrist. You shake your head. “My shoulder.”

Some part of you is terrified at the thought of letting a vampire this close to your throat, screaming in terror at the thought of those teeth meeting your skin. Shigaraki edges even closer to you, as close together as you were when you were dragging him drunk down the hall. His mouth brushes against your shoulder, and you freeze in place. What is he waiting for? You don’t need him to peel the skin off for you. You just need him to –

At least one of Shigaraki’s incisors punctures your skin, and you flinch, hiss – less at the pain, and more at the fact that he’s touching you, one hand on your waist and the other around your wrist, keeping your left arm extended and keeping the rest of you close. But you’ve got what you needed from him. You dig your fingers into the breach, get a good grip, and pull.

It hurts when you peel your human skin away from the faery skin that’s grown beneath, but the human skin is already dead. As it breaks contact with your body, it goes ashen, then transparent. There’s next to no blood. The faery skin glistens, slick with serous fluid, as it’s bared to the air for the first time. You mess up a little bit at the end, peeling away a piece of healthy human skin on the back of your hand by accident. It feels like a hangnail, and your entire arm stings. The pain would be worth complaining about if you didn’t know exactly how bad it was before.

Shigaraki’s still way too close to you. You try to sidle away, and he lets go of your waist, but not your arm. He’s peering intently at it, almost fixated. You brace yourself for the kind of comments you’ve heard every time someone’s seen what you really look like. “Wow,” Shigaraki says. “It looks even cooler than I thought.”

You’re not sure you heard him right. “Cool?”

“Don’t fish for compliments. I’m getting to it,” Shigaraki says. He hasn’t looked up from your arm yet. “I thought it would look cool, and I was right. Do you have more of it?”

You’re feeling weirdly lightheaded. You nod, and you can tell Shigaraki’s grinning just by the sound of his voice. “How much more?” he asks. “Can I see?”

That question snaps you out of whatever fog you’ve been floating in. “No,” you say, and pull away from him completely. “You weren’t even supposed to see this.”

“But you’d have been in trouble if I wasn’t here.” Shigaraki’s eyes follow you closely, not just focused on your arm this time. You can feel his gaze roving over you. If you had to guess, you’d say he’s trying to figure out where else you’re hiding fey skin. “I helped.”

He helped you, after you helped him. “We’re even, then,” you say. “Is that why you did it?”

Shigaraki’s not even subtle in how he ducks the question, and before you can press him for an answer, you hear someone or something knocking against the wall outside – a sharp, uneven rattle that startles you both. You start wrestling your arm back into your sleeve. The serous fluid will glue the fabric to the fey skin and removing it will be painful later, but you don’t have a choice. You need to get out there, and you need to beg whoever’s knocking not to tell Overhaul that they found you in the world’s smallest secret passageway with Shigaraki Tomura and your dress unbuttoned.

The knocking intensifies. You miss a button at the collar of your dress and Shigaraki’s hands knock yours aside, undoing it and buttoning it properly again. Is he trying to get you in his debt officially? You decide that’s a problem for later and open the wall again. There’s no one there but one of Overhaul’s paper cranes, battering itself to death against the wall. You grab it clumsily out of the air. Overhaul’s message is blunt and to-the-point – he wants you to assist Chrono in containing the next ritual, which starts in half an hour. Shigaraki is peering over your shoulder. “I can’t read it.”

“That’s because it’s not for you. They can only be read by the person they’re intended for,” you say. Half an hour. That’s not much time. “Look, I have to –”

Another paper crane zips past you, headed for Shigaraki. He whips his head to one side to avoid it, but he read the trajectory wrong. The wing slices into the dry skin on the side of his neck and he swears, clapping his hand over the now-bleeding paper cut. You capture the crane instead and hand it to him. His expression, already annoyed, deepens into frustration and discomfort as he reads. “What does it say?” you ask.

“What does yours say?”

“Mine says I have half an hour before I’m supposed to help with the next ritual,” you say. “What about yours?”

“My master wants me to feed while I’m here.” Shigaraki scowls. “I don’t want to feed. I’m hungry.”

He’s hungry, and he helped you, and he’s a guest – but it’s not any of those things that decides your course of action. It’s something else, something you’d go mute rather than admit to out loud. “I’ve got half an hour,” you say. There’s almost certainly something else you’re supposed to be doing with that half an hour. Overhaul can be angry with you later. “We can go get something to eat.”

Shigaraki looks surprised. “Really?”

“Sure.” You can’t figure out where that surprise is coming from. He’s been bothering you about it since before the ritual went sideways. Was he not expecting you to say yes? “And we should cover that cut on your neck.”

Shigaraki pulls his hand away from it, grimacing. “It’s not that bad. I get worse all the time.”

From scratching? “It’s still not a good idea to walk around bleeding in here. Let’s go.”

You steer clear of the infirmary and make your way instead to one of the supply caches, using your master rune to open it, and then to open an alcove where you can patch up Shigaraki’s injury in peace. Shigaraki complains as you try to clean the wound. “Why does he fold those things so sharp, anyway?”

“So people will snap to it faster,” you explain. “Most of us would rather drop what we’re doing and do what he wants than risk getting a papercut like that.”

“Your boss is an asshole.” Shigaraki tilts his head to the side at your request, then freezes. “What are you doing?”

“I just moved your hair. It was in the way.” You don’t care that he’s uncomfortable. After what happened tonight, after how much of you he saw, you feel like he deserves it. You get a fingertip full of some salve from the supply caches and start daubing it onto the cut, to the tune of a sharp hiss. “Sorry. I’m trying to be gentle.”

Shigaraki doesn’t respond to that. It’s quiet as you fish through the supply kit for a bandage, a quiet that feels awkward but not necessarily tense. Shigaraki doesn’t speak again until after you’ve placed the bandage. “Can you use one of your spells on it? Whatever you did last time,” he says. “If my master finds out –”

“It’s a glamour, not a spell,” you say. “No problem.”

A phantom itch travels along your left arm as you set the glamour, fading before you can scratch it in earnest. You store the supply kit, open another passageway that will lead directly to the kitchens, and start off, counting on Shigaraki to follow you. The awkwardness follows, too, and just like before, Shigaraki speaks first. “I get it now. Why you wouldn’t tell me what you were.”

You find yourself tucking your left arm close to your body, shielding it. Shigaraki keeps talking. “You helped me just now. I owe you a favor again. Ask.”

Earlier tonight, you’d have asked him to leave you alone. Now – “We’re even. Don’t worry about it.”

“You can’t do that,” Shigaraki says. “I know how this works. You can’t just cancel a debt because you don’t want anything from the person who owes it.”

“I’m only half-fey. I don’t know which of the rules applies to me,” you say. “You’re off the hook.”

“What if I don’t want to be off the hook?”

You can’t imagine why he’d want to be on the hook. The Fair Folk are notorious for driving cruel and twisted bargains. Whether it’s due to their morality, which doesn’t map onto human morals particularly well, or due to a desire to hurt others, everyone who’s ever found themselves in debt to a faery has been keen to get out of it as quickly as possible. Why on earth would Shigaraki want to carry around a possible debt to you?

You don’t want to ask that question. You stay quiet. “I guess I’ll have to stick around, then,” Shigaraki muses. “See about paying you back.”

You glance at him and find him smirking, or grinning. You can’t tell which. Your glamour is shimmering at the side of his neck, obvious to you but subtle enough to escape his master’s notice, and his lips, which would have cracked at a smile this wide even an hour ago, look smoother than before. You have a bad feeling about why that is – and at the same time, you aren’t as worried about it as you were before. Now that he knows what you are, interacting with him is significantly less stressful than before. It’s not something you’ll look forward to. But it’s not something you’ll dread.

“I guess you have to,” you say, and his smile brightens. Even that’s not enough to dredge up the ambivalence you felt before. “Let’s get some food.”

#shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x you #shigaraki tomura #x reader #reader insert #skin hunger

[z-happyhour]

pokémon mystery dungeon: explorers of sky ☆ sharpedo bluff – morning / day / night

#pokemon #pokémon #mystery dungeon #explorers of sky #pmd #eos #gif #up #til that skytemple can export fully animated backgrounds from the game :] #i wanted to see all three times of day together #(don't look at the day and night ones too closely though)

[noxtivagus]

thinking abt the fair rn n i want more oh my goddd

#🌙.rambles #esp the vikings i missed that ride so much it's been years man #I NEED IT HIGHER N BIGGER THO BCS THE FEELING OF #oh my god yk the #feeling of being high up in the air #n then. the fall #that pit in your stomach ! n the thrill is just so #it's one of my favorite feelings #got my arm a bit scraped in the inflatables n that happens every year we've had the school fair i swear #i liked my glams #wait. sorry ffxiv habit 💀 #MY FITS ! i liked mine for all days hehe #🥺 i don't have like a proper pic of the one on thurs but <33 #n then friday i was all black but i looked so cool i think n then JUST WISHED I WORE LIKE #my bucket hat n my glasses bcs days before that was what i was planning to wear but it was so hot !!!! T_T #n today i wore smth not black but yes the accessories r cute n i like blue n white too nyways hehe #uwahh i feel better rn thankfully just need to focus on yeah i'm really good at focusing on what's. yeah #i'll just walk even though my legs r dead n clear my mind n then #i'll write more of what happened yesterday n close my eyes n reflect more at night n then #write more in general. write a lot. i may write too much for me but goddamn i can't stop :^) #oh no uh #nah i'll stop this at this or i'll lose this energy i have right now. sigh #i'll just write more later but now i can rest i'll make myself rest a bit i have to

[slvttyplum]

✰ don’t take your panties off | satoru gojo

synopsis: you made a mistake and didn’t wear panties to bed, now you’re facing the consequences.

contents: cnc, smut, lowercase spelling.

don’t take your panties off when sleeping; just don't. it’ll create a problem in the middle of the night that you aren’t ready to solve.

this particular night was a little too warm; only a gust of wind passed by every few seconds, and the fan was broken.

the electrician didn’t come until thursday, and it was tuesday night, and wearing an oversize shirt with nothing under it wasn’t a big deal.

you slipped under the covers and drifted off to sleep. satoru was working late that night, so there was no need to wait for him.

a few hours later, you were awakened by a hand smoothing and caressing your thigh, a hand nudging against your ass, and something sticking to your entrance.

you blinked a few times, clearing out the blurriness, before turning your head. all you could see in your peripheral was white hair.

“satoru?” you let out softly, just to make sure that was actually him. it was already dark, but the bright moon was letting out some illumination through the blinds.

the response back was just a hum; his hand was still caressing your side, and the “stick” that was poking your entrance was finally entering.

“the polite thing would be to respond back when i ask if it was you.” a defeated sigh ripping past your lips, and his forehead tapping your shoulder.

“sorry, im a little tired.” his rough voice and the warm vanilla scent, letting you know he just got out of the shower.

your thoughts were interrupted when he thrust into you with full force, your hand scrambling to hold onto the sheets.

“so am i, so why do you wanna do this now?" his length deep inside you from the position the both of you were in.

fucking from the side always made his dick go further, especially when you fucked back.

it was true that satoru just got back home not too long ago, and it’s also true that he was tired, but he couldn’t resist you.

when he first came home, his first priority was to eat, but not before checking if you were dead or not.

when he opened the door, there you were, sprawled on your side of the bed, one of your legs spread up, exposing your bare ass.

a lump forming in his throat from the sexy sight. he didn’t expect you to be this bold; whenever you wore an oversized shirt, you wore panties, so this was different.

swallowing the lump inside his throat, he quietly walks to your side of the bed, leaning down and placing a kiss on your cheek.

your sleeping face making him blush was always so cute when you slept; too bad he was going to ruin that.

sleeping so innocently, he felt bad for what he was about to do. yeah, he could’ve woken you up, but it was already late, so why not make it quick?

of course he wasn’t going to fuck you when he just came home from working and sweating all day, so he hopped in the shower and came out.

quickly sliding into bed and pulling his briefs down, not before sticking his fingers in your heat, sliding them out, and looking at them.

an amused scoff erupting from his mouth. you were wet. as hell, what in the world were you thinking about?

he took no time to line himself up with your entrance, your body jolting from the random touch.

“i just love you so much," he says, laughing softly, responding to your previous question, and pushing into you again, the wet noise making him even harder.

a moan slips past your lips, your eyes still closed, and satoru’s touch sends shivers down your spine.

your body is now more sensitive since there was no time to prepare, even though your pussy was practically leaking.

his head moved to the crook of your neck as he kissed, then slid his tongue over a spot, your hand clenching the sheet even more.

his warm breath traveled down your neck to your shoulder, placing a few small kisses there. the softness of his kisses made you smile.

the pace is getting sloppier and harder as he pushes into you deeper, causing you to gasp and cough. the change in pace is making your eyes roll back.

“softer.” your hand reaching back to push his stomach, so he slides out of you, but he takes your wrist, gripping it.

a whine coming from your lips as you squint your eyes shut, your thighs clenching, and your stomach turning from the pleasure.

“you can take it.” he grunts out, his jaw clenched and his face still on your shoulder.

another whimper comes from your mouth, then a moan follows as he presses into your sweet spot, the tingly feeling dispersing all around your body.

his hand gripping your wrist even harder, your shoulder and wrist aching from the tightness he was putting on, causing your walls to clench.

satoru kisses your shoulder again, then licks over the spot, his eyes flicking to your face, your lewd expressions making him harder.

“i’m sorry.” he lets out, pushing deeper inside you, repeated sloppy thrusts into your wet cunt.

tiny curses escaping his mouth as he gets faster, your breasts bouncing up and down from how fast he’s going.

the headboard hitting the wall repeatedly, his tip getting deeper and deeper inside you, and your eyes opening from the final thrust.

a cough falling out of your mouth as you feel warm liquid feel you up, his dick slowly sliding out of you.

his body that was previously pressed against you, leaning back and letting go of your wrist.

leaning down, he takes a finger sliding over your opening, cum coating his finger and a smile dancing on his lips.

you quickly get up, spreading your legs, and looking at the sight, a vein could be seen popping up in your forehead.

“fucking dick!” you scream out, quickly sliding the pillow behind you and hitting him repeatedly, cursing him out.

he’s laughing, curled up, and holding his stomach, deciding to just suffer the consequences.

you’re never going to go to bed without panties again.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru x y/n #jjk satoru #jujutsu satoru #jujutsu gojo #gojo smut #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo saturo #gojo x y/n #jujutsu kaisen satoru #satoru smut

[thefallofruins]

Sukuna x Concubine! Reader

[Headcanons pt.2] [pt.1] [series masterlist]

➸ Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, Smut, dacryphilia, Sukuna is an asshole (not to you though), mentions of belly bulging, creampie, overstimulation, oral sex.

➸A/N: I was facing a writer's block and couldn't come up with anything else:(

➼ Sukuna who is not very gentle in the treatment of his concubines. They exist simply to satiate his hunger. He hasn't even a bit of interest in any of their affairs. But when you arrive, it takes a flip. He realises he can make an exception.

➼ Sukuna who allows you— and only you, the privilege of looking upon his marvelous form as he fucks his cock into you, stuffing you full of him as he steadies his pace. Who cannot stand those unpleasant noises his other concubines make. It's almost irritating. But he removes your hand from your mouth that you were using to restrict your moans and hide your face.

"Don't you dare." he growls softly into your ears, his fingers tightly wrapped around your wrist, separating it from your face. Don't you dare deprive him of those sweet noises and that pretty face of yours contorted in pleasure.

➼ Sukuna who shushes you, smiling maliciously as he wipes your tears. He's made you cum countless times in a row, but shows no sign of stopping. Your poor cunt is stuffed full of his cum, and a murmur a, "t-too full, master."

He simply wipes your tears, a tongue forming on one of his hands, sucking on your puffy clit before he starts thrusting into you sloppily again, "shhh..." he coos, "You can take it...you're made for me, no?"

➼ Sukuna who indeed makes it sure that you're made for him and only him. The shape of his cock is carved into your walls. You're addicted to him, to how he makes you feel. To seeing the bulge of his cock form on your belly each time he's in you, to feeling how good it feels when he presses down on your belly and you feel him deep within you.

➼ Sukuna who, on particularly lonesome days, seats you on the edge of his grand bed and kneels in front of you. Head buried between your plush thighs as he mercilessly and sloppily eats you out. He wanted the entire castle to hear your pretty noises. He adored to see your cheeks flush in embarrassment when they did.

➼ Sukuna who now neglects his harem. He keeps them around, though. He likes to see how the other concubines seethe in jealousy when he calls upon you. They hate how much he spoils you. They hate how they can never have what you do— and he enjoys the face of such petty human emotions stirring in them.

➼ Sukuna who finds himself wanting your pleasure alongside his. Who wants to hear how good he makes you feel. Who finds himself doing things for your pleasure instead of his. Who used to watch cruelly as his other concubines trembled out of bed after he was done with them, but lets you rest in his when he's done with you.

➼ Sukuna who lets out a cruel chuckle when you're on top of him, struggling to fit his length into your tight walls. He loves the feeling of you sloppily riding him, your tits bouncing as he aids you in the course, watching your eyes tear up as it all gets too much for you.

➼ Sukuna who unexpectedly captures your lips in his in a heated moment, not missing the way your heat thuds in your chest when he does. For some reason, he himself cannot figure out why he did what he did, but lets out a soft groan of surprise when you kiss him back. That night, he holds you close. Strangely comforted by how warm you were.

➼ Sukuna who, even with your status as a mere concubine, keeps you dressed like a Queen. Beautifully embroidered kimonos and jewellery. After all, it's only a matter of time till he makes you his Queen.

divider by: @/cafekitsune

thefallofruins2023 © plagirising/translation/repost of my work is not permitted.

#ruins posts #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #deleting soon