#didn’t know a single bastard there and They all knew each other

[corrodedcoughin]

Just caught up with the last of us, somebody hold me

#not my best choice the day I started my period #and having a morning of violence and aggression breakaway techniques training #where we had to ‘role play’ like 20 scenarios and shout and be loud and it was very over stimulating #didn’t know a single bastard there and They all knew each other #then go back to work and get a phone call from a scary housing officer #when I was crampy and SORE #so what did I do? go home and watch something that had me SOBBING #I’m not joking when I say I’ve cried more in the last five months than I have in the past seven years #didn’t cry when my ozzy/Judas priest tickets got cancelled but it was close #ya guy is feeling EMOTIONS #anyway!!!! how are we all? #have a Good Friday? #if not that’s okay. they can’t all be good #we can try again tomorrow

[tonycries]

Unhoneymooners!? - G.S.

Synopsis. The universe was surely playing a joke on you. Here you were, trapped on a luxury getaway with your - dangerously handsome, extremely obnoxious - ex. Either you were going to kill each other or end up pinned beneath him, split apart on his cóck. You just didn’t know what would come first.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, exes to lovers, unprotected, argument as foreplay, slight enemies to lovers, more like annoyances actually, cunnilingus, oral (male + female), spitting, creampié, one bed trope, rough, Satoru is still EXTREMELY down bad for you, and unfairly hot, forced proximity, cúmplay, pet names (sweetheart), swearing.

Word count. 8.5k

A/N. It’s impossible to not write Satoru without bullying him at least a little bit.

You broke up with Gojo Satoru exactly 5 months, 2 weeks, and 16 hours ago - not that you were keeping count, of course.

So why was he outside of your resort room blasting “Kill Bill” by SZA like he’s auditioning for the world’s most dramatic comeback tour? On what should’ve marked your fourth anniversary, no less.

Well, given you were the one to lock him out, but still - the stubborn bastard could at least have some decorum. 

With an exasperated sigh, you throw yourself onto the king-sized bed of your honeymoon suite, trying to will away that annoying, grating voice - not SZA, no, more so Satoru singing along at the top of his lungs to the chorus. 

How did you even get here? And with Satoru of all people - your Satoru. Or at least he was this time a little over a year ago. 

You first met Satoru when you were in university, back when he wore those pretentious circled sunglasses and waltzed around those halls like he owned the place. And after a single literature assignment together, he wasn’t just your (self-proclaimed) best friend; he was the reluctantly favorite thorn in your side. 

Like the rest of him, Satoru’s introduction into your love-life was anything but subtle. It wasn’t like he strolled in, gave a polite nod, and blended into the background. Oh no, he bulldozed his way in and dragged you to dance with him on the tables of some dingy frat party in what you could only assume was some joke from the universe at your expense.

And damn him, you think bitterly, you couldn't resist him that night. Spinning you into a dramatic dip, silver chain brushing your face as his half-lidded eyes bored into yours. You couldn’t not kiss him after the way his hands were just searing into your skin. 

God, you’ve never been able to listen to “Gasolina” the same way ever since.  

Satoru was in love as he was in the rest of life - a force of nature, and it was too easy to find yourself caught up in him.

That night at the frat party was just the beginning. From then on was a rollercoaster of everything from heated debates over the best flavor of ramen to impromptu road trips where you’d end up under a carpet of stars. Wrapped in each other’s arms and sharing whispered secrets for an unpromised future - oftentimes where Satoru would crack a joke or two about running away to Tokyo with him. To which you’d laugh it off with a “Yeah yeah, I’d leave everything I’ve known behind in a heartbeat for your dumbass, Toru.”

You just didn’t think that it would be the downfall to your relationship. All the empty promises. 

Because as those heavenly days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, eventually two years had gone by. The whirlwind romance settled into a comfortable rhythm, but with it came the looming promise of graduation and Satoru moving to work under his family company in Tokyo.

Under pressure, it wasn’t long before the cracks began to show, the arguments more frequent, and the silences more deafening. And as your relationship slowly turned into nothing more than a husk of what it used to be - so did the both of you.

Long story short, graduation was a bittersweet goodbye - and you think both of you knew long before it was actually over. Neither of you attended the afterparty - with Satoru on a flight straight to Tokyo and you at home to stuff your face with chocolate. Hey, at least you could blame your tears on finally leaving university, right? 

You had meticulously erased his name from your phone, your social media, and even your dreams - well, almost, the bastard still came around to bother you occasionally. It was messy, painful, and final.

But “final” really didn’t explain your current predicament. Because if there’s one thing you’ve learned about Satoru is that he’s always there - whether you liked it or not. He was there when you needed a partner for that literature assignment, and he was there to turn your world upside down at that dingy frat party.

Hell, he was even there to help you stubbornly chug mountains of ice cream and win that raffle for this five day-long getaway trip to the Maldives. Though, you think he might’ve chugged the ice cream without the promise of a vacation anyway.

But, when ultimately those shiny tickets came in the mail - Satoru wasn’t there. Oh well, it might’ve been a couple’s trip - but you could have a hot girl summer, right? Maybe you could even snag a hottie by the end. You’d almost forgotten that he’d be getting his copy of the tickets as well.

Yet, unfortunately - as the beginning notes of P!nk’s “So What” bursts through the heavy wooden door - you were inevitably reminded of the fact that he was here. Right now. Goading you into coming outside.

You find yourself groaning inwardly (and outwardly) because of course, why wouldn’t he come back even more obnoxious than before? You haven’t seen him in ages, yet here he is, crashing back into your life with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer. Or - you furrow your brows at his purposefully off-key singing carrying over the sounds of the waves outside - with the subtlety of a manchild with a JBL and a premium account on Spotify.  

Rubbing your temples in frustration, you contemplate how much longer of this it would take before you’re both kicked out of this resort. And after you ate so many ice creams to win this getaway trip? No chance.

With a resigned sigh, you rise from the bed, smoothing out the bathing suit you’d just put on before the devil incarnate showed up knocking at your door. Something hot and prickly pools in your stomach as you approach it, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at the sheer absurdity of the situation. So like Satoru.

Taking a deep breath to steel yourself, you shakily reach for the handle. It’s fine. It’s not a big deal actually.

…

What’s the worst that can happen?

Slam! 

The door swings open, and there in all his smug glory stands a very shirtless Satoru. Gojo pain-in-your-ass Satoru, the same asshole you’ve blocked on even Gmail. 

Except, you’re momentarily struck by how high you have to raise your eyes to meet his. Are growth spurts even a thing anymore? You didn’t have a chance to take a good look last time before slamming the door shut at the first flash of white hair and a smug grin.

But right now, traitorously, your gaze catches on just how broad his shoulders look and…since when was he so chiseled? Damn you, Tokyo - you were doing him too good.

His hair is slightly longer too, curtaining those slightly more mature features, stopping just above that ever-immature grin. One which moves as he hums, “Well, happy fourth anniversary to me, If I knew this came with the suite then I’d have swam here myself.”

You scoff, suddenly feeling strangely self-conscious as he wiggles his brows, striking blue eyes sweeping your figure from head to toe. “I’d prefer if you swam back. What are you doing?” 

“Why, just showing up to our room on our lil’ honeymoon, sweetheart.” Satoru sing-songs, leaning against the doorframe to fully prevent you from slamming the door in his (admittedly) pretty face again. “And before you try to break my nose with that door again, I won that ticket here fair and square, y’know. I ate just as much ice cream as you did for it.”

“You ate most of those before you knew about the getaway raffle.” you sigh over his nonchalant shrug, pinching your nose, “And stop calling it our honeymoon, I dumped you five months ago.”

“Well aren’t you just the gift that keeps on giving. Keeping count?”

“No. Don’t be a pest.”

“Always thought you had a thing for pests. After all, you did date me.” As Satoru grins impossibly wider, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. He winks, “And if I’m a pest then you’re an itch that just won’t go away.”

“At least I’m not the itch that shows up uninvited to someone’s honeymoon suite.” you hiss. And with that you start shutting the door ever-so-slowly, delighting in the panic that overtakes Satoru’s features as he reaches out frantically.

“Hey!” he sputters, “I didn’t know you’d be here! And besides this ‘pest’ forgot his slippers all the way in Tokyo and can’t stand on flaming-hot boardwalks for too long so let me in.”

And sure enough, you glance down to see that Satoru isn’t wearing any slippers on the scorching boardwalk. The realization almost brings a smirk to your lips. This idiot. 

“Wow.”

“‘Wow’ at my feet or-”

“I should leave you here to rot just for your pure idiocy.” you deadpan, eyes locked on the way he’s burning his soles off yet still has the audacity to flash you a cocky smile.

“But you won’t.” he hums.

A beat passes. One. Two. And Satoru’s grin almost falters, before you finally relent - opening the door just a crack, cursing his entire bloodline under your breath. “You’re incorrigible” you mutter as he saunters inside victoriously, dragging his hefty luggage behind.

“Why change perfection, sweetheart~” he calls out, heading straight for the bedroom, only to let out a delighted “OooOOo” at the sight of the king-sized bed in the middle. The only bed. “How scandalous, maybe you’ll even fall in lov-” 

“Don’t. I’d rather gouge my eyes out with a seashell.” you warn, holding up both keycards threateningly, “I get the bed, you take the couch.”

“But-”

“And I’ve got the keys, so slippers or not you’ll be back out on that boardwalk.” 

A slight smile tugging at the corners of your lips at the way Satoru looked so dramatically crestfallen, you continue - just to be petty, “And no more ‘Kill Bill’ that’s on my angry ex playlist.”

With a heavy sigh he sulkily makes his way to the bathroom, calling out as he does, “Fine. But I’m showering first.”

As he disappears from sight you throw yourself onto your bed, basking in what little peace and quiet you’ll have because of your unwanted guest. This was going to be a-

“And I’m using all of your body lotions.”

“...”

“I will use one of your body lotions.”

Groaning, you sink into the plush mattress, just wishing it would swallow you whole and spare you from this torment. And this was only Day 1? This was going to be a very long five days. 

---

The first night with Satoru, honestly, wasn’t too bad. 

You don’t know what you expected exactly - maybe for him to pour hair dye in your shampoo or something. But he actually stuck to his word, slept on the couch after only a bit of taunting, and used only one of your body lotions. Your best-smelling, most expensive one, but one nonetheless.

Feeling slightly more optimistic, you spent most of the second day at the beach, meanwhile he stuck to lounging by the pool. Add in a bit of pretending you didn’t know him by the salad bar at dinner and that made for an almost-perfect hot girl summer. 

Well, considering that you were rooming with your insufferable longtime ex - in a honeymoon suite of all places. 

The only catch came that night, fully content at the burning soreness from being pushed around by the waves outside. You got ready to splay out on your bed, humming along to the tunes of your playlist and…Satoru’s lamenting?

“I swear my back feels like it’s been run over by a truck. Five of them, and a zoo.” he complains from behind you, dramatically draping himself over the couch - his impromptu bed. 

“Good.”

“What if that was my last straw?”

“Even better.”

His exaggerated, disappointed whine is both embarrassing and almost-endearing as you roll your eyes, resisting the urge to suffocate him with a pillow. “Maybe call your chiropractor guy.”

Satoru shot you a pointed look, his expression a mixture of faux innocence and irritation, which you knew too well. “I wish but he’s trekking through the Himalayas. C’mon~ Don’t you think that lovely king-sized bed is too big for just one?”

“No, but the boardwalk sure is. Maybe you should try it out.” you monotone, getting ready to end this conversation once and for all. 

But when has Satoru ever let you off easy? He sits up abruptly, a devious smile curling his lips. “Ohh, I get it.” he taunts, batting his long lashes mockingly, “You’re scared to sleep in the same bed with me.”

Huh?

“Out of all the idiotic-” you cut yourself off by whirling around to face his smug grin, “Why would I be scared to sleep in a bed with you. I’ve done that far too many times already.”

“Exactly,” he chuckles. “And all those times you could barely last an hour before without keeping your hands off of me. Scared you’ll end up pinned underneath me and stuffed full like old times, sweetheart?”

You narrow your eyes at him despite the heat burning your face. “The only thing I’m scared of is your icicle feet on my side.”

He laughs, a sound that’s equal parts irritating and endearing, and stands up from where he was slumped on the couch. Making his way slowly, but surely towards you, “Oh, c’mon. For old times’ sake, admit it, you miss me.”

"Yeah, missed the peace and quiet I don’t have because of your big mouth,” you scoff. Finding it hard to meet his twinkling gaze as he comes close enough that you’re toe to toe with him. Your cheeks burn at the proximity - hot enough to match the heat radiating off his body. 

Satoru shakes his head, undeterred by your threats. And suddenly you get the overwhelming urge to throw him out the window and straight into the ocean. “You can deny it all you want, but you still have feelings for me.”

Your jaw clenches at his audacity. “You wish. I’d never.”

“Then prove it.”

Damn, he was good.

Which is probably how you found yourself lying in the same bed as Satoru, with a wall of all the pillows in the room erected between you two - and a few extra from room service just in case. 

“Sweetheart, this is a king-sized bed. Is the fortress really necessary?”

You wrap your blankets tighter around yourself, trying to ignore the figure radiating warm right next to you. Muttering out a muffled little, “Yeah, so you can keep your mitts off of me.”

Satoru groans dramatically, bed creaking as he shuffles what you can only assume to be closer to you. “You keep your mitts off of me, you lecher.” he quips, voice dripping with sarcasm as he inches closer.

You stiffen at his proximity, feeling his warmth seep through the layers of blankets and pillows as he chuckles softly, the sound sending shivers down your spine, “Oh, come on, don’t be like that. We used to share a bed all the time.”

“That was before,” you interject. God, you didn’t like where this conversation was going. 

“Before what?” Satoru presses, his voice low and insistent. 

Now, you might’ve let yourself be goaded into sharing a bed but these were old wounds better off left alone. You hiss, tone firm, “Before. Now sleep” 

Before when you didn’t have to make a wall of pillows. Before when he would hold you tight and whisper sweet secrets into your ear. That he’d buy you the biggest ring he saw and promise you the world. Before- 

“I missed you, y’know.” Satoru breaks the silence barely audible over the sound of your own thoughts. The word pangs through your mind and claws at your chest. And at your silence he continues, tone a little lighter, “And stop hogging all the blankets, I’m gonna freeze to-”

“Boardwalk.”

“My apologies, ma’am. Goodnight, ma’am.”

And he sinks back into his pillow with a huff, you let out a sigh of relief. Something hot coiling in your stomach as you close try to catch as much sleep as you possibly could with the bane of your existence laying right beside you. The suddenly taller, dangerously handsome, still as-obnoxious-as-ever bane of your existence. 

You just wonder if he remembered “before”.

Oh, how Satoru remembered “before”. So much so that he had sixteen different playlists dedicated to you even after the breakup.

It’s divine punishment - it has to be. Satoru thinks there’s no reasonable explanation for the series of unfortunate events happening to him other than punishment from his ancestors above for being such a pussy and losing the love of his life.

First he forgets his slippers, then he ends up locked out of his own honeymoon suite by said love of his life. Granted, all thoughts of his poor burnt soles went out the window the moment he caught a glimpse of you in that positively sinful bikini. God, were you glowing. A goddess upon Earth - he could really give the Gojo Satoru of five months ago a good, hard kick.

And now he’s stuck in a - very comfortable - prison with you just inches away, tossing and turning in that way he knows means that you can’t sleep either. 

Honestly, very funny universe, the great Gojo Satoru demands a refund. Way to punk’d him into confronting the feelings he’s desperately been trying to bury these past few months - ever since he got on that plane to Tokyo and contemplated faking a heart attack just to get off. 

Realizing just then that he lost the love of his life - and the only woman who’d tolerate his karaoke nights. But with that realization came another, more jarring one: he was too late. 

Every touch, every laugh, and even every time you rolled your eyes was etched into his very soul, and it felt like a montage from a sappy breakup movie directed by a sadistic screenwriter who had it out for him. 

And it really didn’t help that this was the exact suite he was planning once upon a time to propose in. God, how you’d feed him to the crabs if he said anything about that - nevermind the fact that he was actually one that booked this-

But still, some traitorous, annoying part of his heart interrupts, she still hasn’t made you sleep on the boardwalk yet.

Maybe - just maybe - he’ll wake up to a second chance?

…

Ha. As if.

“I can’t sleep.” Satoru groans out loud, more so to drown out his own thoughts than anything.

“Well, I can. Goodnight.”

Ah, his girl was such a lil’ liar. Undeterred, the mattress creaks as he shuffles his weight to excitedly face you, taking a moment to admire how pretty you looked under the dim moonlight. He plows on, “Hey, if you promise not to make me crab food, wanna walk along the beach and watch the stars?”

A beat of silence. One. Two. so deafening and tense that Satoru was half a second away from obnoxiously laughing it off as a joke and pulling out his Emo Times™ playlist. 

“Or I can go back to the couch and-”

“Shut up. Let’s watch the stars, Satoru.”

But what do you know - maybe the universe hasn’t given up on him just yet. 

And, well, if he woke up the next morning breaching your fortress - your warm breath tickling his neck and his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, like the lifeline he never knew he needed - then, neither of you mentioned it.

---

“Hey, Satoru. You think we’ll always be like this?” you hum into your boyfriend’s chest, barely a whisper as the looming fears of, well, everything ring in your mind. 

He pulls you close, flashing a mischievous grin before planting a dramatic kiss on the top of your head. “Duh, I’ll always be around to drive you dangerously close to a stroke, sweetheart.” 

You roll your eyes, yet bury yourself closer to his warmth anyway.

“Besides, it doesn’t matter if I have to drag you by the leg to Tokyo. Wherever you are is where I belong. ”

---

You’ve come to learn that a resort island is only so big when you’re actively trying to avoid your 6’3 manchild of an ex.

Now that you were rooming with Satoru, sleeping with Satoru (in a literal sense only, of course), and just-so-happening to bump into him at the beach - somehow, talking with him is a little easier, his presence just a bit more exciting than you’d care to admit. 

If the you of four days ago could see what had become of you, then she’d probably slap some sense into you faster than you could say “Kill Bill”. Sleeping in the same bed (still only literally), having dinner, watching the stars - with Gojo Satoru? You’ve gone completely off your rocker. 

But could you really be blamed? These last few days have you feeling like maybe you’ve been dropped into an alternate universe, where you and Satoru never broke up. 

Yet, reality is a persistent little bastard. And with the end of your trip looming dangerously closer, the past you would be cackling mockingly in your face, flashing a large sign in big, red letters reading “I TOLD you so.” 

Whatever. Maybe by this time tomorrow both of you could laugh this all off as a silly little adventure and call yourself somewhat begrudging friends. Maybe you’d even end up unblocking him by the end - on Gmail, at least.

At the very least, dinnertime was a solace - both from your thoughts and the smug bastard talking your ear off about how he could “make that spaghetti better than a thousand Italian grandmothers.”

Until the fourth - and final - night, that is. When the resort, deciding that your current torture wasn’t already enough, arranged a special candlelit dinner. A romantic one. By the beach. With Satoru of all people. 

Great. Wonderful. Perfect, in fact. Going out with a bang. Was this really part of the all-inclusive package? It was like the universe was playing some twisted joke on you - or some awful version of wingmanning. 

You grit your teeth silently as you’re ushered to the beachside table, thoughts barely audible over the waves crashing against the shore and the soft, romantic music drifting from the band nearby. 

The complete opposite of Satoru, who was already seated at the table and enjoying himself far too much for your liking. He lounged back in his chair, a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he watched you sit opposite him uncomfortably.

You hated to admit it - but God was he dangerously beautiful in that crisp white button-up, one that you knew was from his overpriced collection for special occasions. You found yourself fighting to avoid the amber hues twinkling in his eyes as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting warm shadows that bring out his pretty features.

Pretty? So frighteningly pretty - until he speaks, that is.

“And here I thought our honeymoon couldn’t get any worse. You’re sweating bullets, sweetheart. This your first date with me or something?”

“We’re not on a honeymoon, Satoru. And no, it just brings back memories.” you scoff. Relishing in the way he inches his chair closer to listen, clearly not expecting this sudden sentimentality. “Memories of why I blocked you on every social media.”

All but slamming his head down on the table, Satoru whines out, “Ouch, straight for the jugular. That mouth is still as bitchy as ever, huh? Though I do prefer it choking on my-”

“I’m going to throw you into the ocean.”

“Ooo, kinky~” he hums, swirling his wine glass, “But you know what this reminds me of? That one time we had dinner under the stars.”

You froze, the memories suddenly flashing back to you despite your best efforts to suppress them. “Oh yeah,” you muse. A chuckle leaving your mouth despite yourself, “Wasn’t that where you spilled ketchup all over your shirt and then insisted it was a fashion statement?”

He leans in closer, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Hey! It worked, didn’t it? I got compliments from everyone including you.”

“I was just trying to stop you from bursting into tears.” you roll your eyes, shaking your head at the memory. 

“Exactly, sweetheart. Like moths to a flame.”

“More like to a bug-zapper.”

Satoru throws his head back and laughs, loud and unabashed. A sound that echoes across the beach and makes something warm and sticky strum at your heartstrings. And at that moment, that stupid, little part of you didn’t even mind that you were at a special candlelit dinner. A romantic one. By the beach. With Satoru of all people. 

And he didn’t even have to goad you into it with SZA this time.

As the orange glow of the setting sun melded into the cool blue of the night, it almost felt like slipping back into an old routine. The food had long since been finished. Jabs and shared memories flowing through the air like the gentle waves lapping at the shore.

The cool air was now thick with contentment and something so unknown yet so familiar that it made your heart race. 

 “I swear.” you groan over Satoru’s loud cackles, “He tried to charm his way out of the bill by flirting with the waitress. In front of me.”

Satoru doubles over, clutching his stomach as he laughs uproariously. “Classic move! If he’s going to be a cheapskate then he should’ve at least been successful with it.”

Damn, was he eternally grateful for these dim candles. Otherwise you’d surely have caught the rosy flushing tinting his cheeks. How dare you sit there so gorgeous and perfect in front of him. Perfect for him - you haven’t changed one bit.

“Right? She looked ready to fling us both out.” You chuckle, eyes catching on the little dimple just at the corner of his mouth as Satoru shoots you a sly grin. “Mhm, I know if it were me I would’ve charmed us out of the bill successfully.”

You raise a brow, retorting, “Oh please. I’ve had the pleasure of being on the receiving end of that ‘charm’. You’d probably end up charming us into washing dishes in the kitchen.” 

Ah, right now, he doesn’t think he wants to be anywhere but here - bickering with you. 

“Ouch, you wound me, woman!” Satoru feigns offense, placing a hand over his heart dramatically before leaning down to whisper, low and conspiratorial, “Besides, I doubt you even remember what pleasure feels like since being with me.”

A thrill goes down your spine as you realize the insinuation of his words, steady and searing - matching that of  Satoru’s fingers on yours - which had snuck their way across the table, lazily tracing patterns along your skin. 

When did they even get there? Sly bastard.

Your mouth drops into a soft oh! at the dangerous glint in his eyes. But you refuse to back down, “Don’t flatter yourself, Satoru. I’ve had other guys make me cum much harder than you have.”

Touch burning. Mapping every curve and dip he’d known so well, and this time - you graze them back. A challenge. God, you missed that warm little flutter in your chest. 

That seems to catch him by surprise, as those darkened blue eyes widen. But there’s a dangerous edge to his grin as he purrs, voice low. “Is that so?” 

And with that, Satoru’s chair is scraping softly against the sand as he stands up, “C’mon, you’re gonna regret that, sweetheart.”

Oh. 

Satoru knows that it’s been 5 months, 4 weeks, and 8 hours since you two lasted an entire dinner civilly - not that he was counting, duh.

So when he begged the resort staff into setting the two of you up on this special candlelit dinner, he was expecting you to drown him in the lobster tank halfway through or at least end the night with a slap. 

What he certainly did not expect was to end dinner with you shoved against the closed door of your suite, legs wrapped impossibly tight around his waist, and lips trailing hot, openmouthed kisses down your neck. He angles your neck, body pressing so impossibly close to yours.

Inwardly, you curse his button-up for being so goddamn thin that you could feel his abs rub against you with every little movement. Toned chest rumbling as he groans at your hands tugging at those soft locks - just a tiny revenge, for your body lotion. 

“S-Satoru,” you whisper, and he breathes it in with an almost-pained sigh - not wanting to part for even a second. Because fuck it took so long to get you back and he wasn’t going to waste a single moment. 

Pulling just a hair’s breadth away, “Tell me what you want. Always knew we’d end up-”

“Just shut up and kiss me, you smug bastard.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

And, well, who was he to deny you? So he does. 

His lips are searing on yours, hasty and greedy. With a tinge of something so painfully familiar. Your hands make their way onto his chest, feeling the thundering heartbeat against your fingertips - matching that of yours. 

Sweet. You tasted so sweet. Just like honey, and all the dreams where he didn’t leave you behind. Where he didn’t get on that damned plane but instead ran to you all the way from the airport like those sappy romcoms you love. 

He licks at the seam of your lips, drinking in your gasps as he intertwines his tongue with yours. Kissing you like he’ll never be able to again. Because, God, knowing his luck - he probably won’t. 

One hand cups your cheek so gently - a tenderness that doesn’t translate to his lips as he kisses you deeper. Meanwhile the other wanders the expanse of your body, leaving a burning trail of fire in their wake.

Satoru parts with a playful nip to your bottom lip - and before you realize what’s happening, the zipper hits the ground. He’s ripping your pretty dress off - mumbling something about “buying a new one” before large hands surge forward, groping and kneading your tits.

His mouth waters at the sight of your bra. Light blue - to match his eyes. “You evil, evil woman.” he mutters into the soft valley of your breasts as you giggle delightedly. Oh, how he couldn’t get enough of you.

And if there was ever a moment that Satoru thinks he could cream his pants right there, then this would be at the very top, followed very closely by the sight of that withering glare you shot after opening that suite door to him just a few days ago.

He unhooks your bra with one hand, throwing it blindly across the room as if it killed him to see you clothed. 

Immediately, Satoru drops to his knees with the desperation of a madman, coming face-to face with the heavenly sight of your clothed cunt, soaking through your thin panties. 

“Didn’t specify where I had to kiss, sweetheart.”

Your gaze pierces through him, as it always did. “What are you-” Your words get choked up in your throat as his tongue darts out. Licking a long, languid stripe over your clothed cunt. 

“Shit. So sweet f’me, jus’ like I remember. Just one taste and I feel like m’gonna cum in my pants.” Satoru groans, urgently sliding your wet panties down your quivering legs. 

“F-flattery won’t work.” you stammer out as his hot breath fans your quivering entrance as he waits just a second - one, two.

Drinking in the view of your pretty pussy with dazed, half-lidded eyes. Wet - so wet, he almost wants to tease you - just a bit, to see if you’ll get even wetter. Ah, he doesn’t have enough time to take in this view - probably never will. Would it ruin the mood if he took a picture?

“Oh, I’d say it worked pretty well.”

Cock twitching carnally, Satoru needed to taste you now. He immediately surges forward. Breathing you in so sinfully, pooling your juices on his tongue. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he tips his head back back back to let it slide down his throat. 

Shit, if you were the forbidden fruit then he would gladly be cast out of the garden of Eden. 

Half-delirious thoughts running through his mind, Satoru flattens his tongue across your swollen folds. Leisurely sliding between them, catching on your throbbing clit up and down up and down up and-

“Oh- hngh, Satoru faster-”

“So bossy.” he hums prettily around your swollen clit, the vibrations stimulating it just right. But of course, what his girl wants, she will get. 

Lewd squelches and your mewls of his name ring in the heady room as he speeds up his ministrations. Rolling his tongue harshly along your clit, sucking so sensually. Licking at your sweet cunt, dipping just into your sloppy hole. 

You almost miss the long fingers that deftly slide their way up your thigh, spreading your folds with his thumbs. A low groan sounds at the back of his throat as your walls flutter so sinfully around nothing - aching for more friction. 

Urgently, Satoru bullies his fingers past your folds, sinking deep into your plushy walls as his tongue continues its abuse. So warm and wet around him. Curling his fingers just right.

“Ah- fuck, Satoru- Feels s’good.” you gasp as he starts thrusting his fingers back and forth. A ruthless pace that has tears stinging your eyes, hitting that spot over and over and-

“Oh yeah? Thought you didn’t like my ‘big mouth’?” he purrs, muffled around your clit, “Look at you, sweetheart, now falling apart cos’ of it.”

You scoff, fingers tangling in his silky hair, pushing him deeper into your dripping pussy - mostly because you needed it, but somewhat because you really needed him to shut up. “Yeah, I like it better when you shut the fuck up.”

And with a dark chuckle, his mouth is back on your cunt. Your slick glossy and dripping down the corner of his mouth as he alternates between sucking unforgivingly on your ravaged clit and fucking into you at the same time as his fingers. 

And in the delicious stretch of your cunt, you barely register the metallic clinking of a belt before Satoru presses his clothed erection into you.

Shit. You clench so obscenely around his tongue at the feeling of his clothed, painfully hard and throbbing against your leg. Fuck - as big as you remember. You weren’t gonna be able to walk for a while.

“You like this, huh?” he murmurs, speeding up the rhythm of his fingers. Vibrations sending white-hot jolts of pleasure down your spine.

Cracking an eye open you risk a glance downward. Greedily eyeing the hand wrapped tightly around the base, moving up up up. Pumping in small, jerky movements at the same pace of his fingers fucking into you. “Like the way m’getting off to tonguefucking my girl?”

“Like thinking about how this is what I thought about all those lonely fucking night without you?” You arch into his touch, fingers searing on his scalp and angling Satoru just right to make your knees weak. 

He’s so close that you can feel the precum smearing onto your leg. Mouth fucking you in a way you knew he wanted to with his cock right now. Rough and unrelenting. 

“Like thinking about how you’re all I can fucking think about.”

“Hngh- Yes, Satoru! Yes-” 

You see stars as you cum - or maybe those were the tears in your eyes. Pulling Satoru impossibly closer to your quivering pussy so that you could ride out your high on his pretty face. And he readily accepts it - letting himself be handled roughly with the conviction of a man that wouldn’t mind dying if it was suffocating in-between your pretty thighs. 

Your vision is hazy, blood still roaring in your ears as Satoru stands up. Not even bothering to wipe away the wet trail of your slick prettily glossing his lips before capturing yours in a searing kiss. 

“Y’know, sweetheart,” he gasps in between heated kisses. “We got a king-sized bed so we better make use of it, hm?”

Your back hits the mattress before you can even react. Reeling from shock and the audacity as you bounce at the sheer force of his throw. 

“Next time you do that you’re-” 

Whatever insult at the tip of your tongue melts away immediately at the purely pornographic sight of Satoru stalking his way towards you from the foot of the bed. Eyes hooded, cock rock-hard, kiss-bitten lips parted slightly in a way that was so fucked-out.

Unhurriedly approaching you with such a predatory glint in his darkened eyes as he fucks his fist slowly - so agonizingly slowly. Eyes locked on you.

Despite cumming not even minutes before, your pussy jumps in anticipation. Immediately reaching over as soon as he’s close enough - as if in a trance - to replace his hand with yours. 

He was big - so mouthwateringly big. Flushed your favorite shade of pink at his leaking tip, pulsing veins glistening in the dim light - every part of Satoru was so unfairly pretty.

So hot and heavy in your hand as you pump him at a steady, methodical pace. Precum smearing on your palm, trailing down your wrist as you pump. Tighter on the base, thumbing teasingly under his slit the way you knew he used to like. 

“Oh fuck, sweetheart. Still remember, huh?” he hisses lowly. Ah, the way he still likes. 

“Mhm.” you hum absentmindedly, thighs clenching together at the way his hips grind in shallow, mindless little motions into your soft hand. Meeting your strokes as if trying to fuck something so delicious out of him.

And, well, you just couldn’t resist a taste. Bending down in one, fluid motion to delicately lick at his angry, hard head. Slightly salty taste on your tongue as you swipe at the droplets of precum pooling on his tip. Tracing lightly - ever-so-lightly - down his prominent veins. 

Satoru groans, low and hoarse with desire, “Shit, hah- you don’ ngh- have to-”

“Shut up, Satoru.” 

And with that, you’re shoving down as much as you can of his throbbing erection down your throat. Cunt clenching at the way he hardens impossibly as you choke and gag around him.

“Shit, oh- Oh fuck, m’girl. Yes yes yes-.” Satoru lets out a guttural moan. Fingers threading through your hair as he uses it as leverage to fuck himself slowly, deeper and deeper into your heavenly mouth. Hips stuttering and jerky with pleasure. Yeah, he definitely missed this. 

Half-delirious and cock-drunk, you take him all the way till your nose was buried in the tufts of white at his toned pelvis, already so wet with saliva and precum. 

Still got it, some smug, utterly debauched part of yourself titters. 

It was dizzying, the way he was pulsing in your throat, his heady scent filling your senses. Beginning to move up and down up and down in hasty, desperate bobs of your head. Pulling such lewd gasps and moans from his lips. 

You moan around Satoru’s thick cock, clawing at his toned hips for some semblance of stability. Some truly animalistic part of yourself relishing in the neat, red lines down his milky skin. The sight hazy through the tears that spring to your eyes at the way his fat tip hits your abused throat. A relentless, sinful tempo you were steadily losing your mind to.

Messy.  It was so fucking messy.

You just wondered if his orgasm would be the same…

But, alas, one can’t always get what they want. Because Satoru pulls you off of his achingly hard cock with a lewd pop! that rings in his ears and makes your cunt twitch. 

“Shit, sweetheart. Any longer and I’ll have to start thinking about ol’ Prof. Gakuganji to not cum.” he pants through ragged breaths, flashing you a deceptively innocent grin. “Now, lay back and spread ‘em f’me and let me see if your pretty pussy can still handle me.”

And that you don’t argue with. 

It’s almost embarrassing - the way you scramble desperately to sink back into the mattress. Letting Satoru manhandle your legs open so shamefully for him, throwing them over his muscled shoulders. But that’s a problem for the future, not lust-drunk you. 

Right now you couldn’t give less of a fuck as his hungry gaze locks on your glistening pussy. Pausing for just a split-second before spitting once. Twice. Thrice onto your waiting cunt. Making you feel more and more like an object as the warm saliva mixes obscenely with your slick, trickling down to form such a sinful pool on the sheets below. 

And you liked it.

Almost as much as you loved the way Satoru drags his tip along your swollen folds, catching so maddeningly on your clit. Teasingly pooling your slick on his leaking head. It was so sloppy. And too slow. 

“Satoru, I’ve waited five months too long for this. If you’re going to fuck me then fuck me like you mean it.” you grit out, frustration and pure need boiling over within you. 

“Oh? So it’s like that, huh?” 

And maybe you were a mastermind, maybe you were an idiot - probably both. Because Satoru immediately pushes in one, long thrust into your dripping cunt. Your words catch pathetically in your throat as he loses grip on whatever semblance of restraint he had - or his sanity - whichever one would break you first. 

Fuck, it feels so heavenly. Oh, how you missed him.

Bowing his body down down down till his damp forehead met yours. Folding you completely underneath him in the way you’ve found that only the smug bastard, Gojo Satoru can. 

You could almost sob at the stretch as he presses in - deliciously painful, borderline insane, and exactly what you’d been trying to deny that you’d been craving all these past five months. Being split apart on his throbbing cock, feeling like you were about to be absolutely devoured underneath him. 

It seems Satoru was just as needy for you, hot and throbbing agonizingly inside you, each little bump bump bump against your walls matching that of your heart thundering against your chest. 

Or was that Satoru’s? At this point you couldn’t even tell. 

“Oh, god yes-, jus’ like that ah shit shit shit-”

“This what you wanted, yeah?” A low growl leaves his throat at how sinfully your walls were milking him as he pulls back. All the way till his leaking tip was just innocently kissing your sloppy hole - only to ram his cock all the way back into your snug cunt. “To be split apart on my cock?” 

Shit, he could just about pass out right now with the way your cunt was sucking him in so greedily like she never wanted to part. 

Guess she missed him too, he thinks deliriously. Not even having to think about it as he starts fucking into you in shallow, mindless little thrusts. Pushing himself deeper and deeper into your plushy cunt. 

“Äh- fuck, yeah. S’all I’ve wanted.” you mewl, feeling so vulnerable and exposed under the hungry eyes boring into yours. A dark gleam in them as he grins, “Then take it back.”

Disoriented, you gasp out a strangled, “What?” before Satoru’s hips become rougher, chasing his high as much as yours. 

“What you said at dinner.” your lips fall into a soft oh! as you realize just what he’s talking about, “Admit that no man makes you cum as hard as I do.”

God, you don’t think you could answer even if you wanted to, choking on the harsh, purposeful movements of his hips just to fuck your soul out. 

Heavy balls stinging your skin, the lewd sounds of skin-on-skin fills the heady air. Driving you to insanity. An absolutely unforgiving cadence that has the bed creaking in protest. Ah, whatever, he could buy them a new one anyway if this one just so happens to break.

“Take it back yet?” He had to break you first though.

Slick gushes out of your heated cunt, dripping down his length and pooling at his heavy balls, stinging your ass at each merciless thrust. “No.” 

A large hand hastily makes its way down to draw rough, frenzied little circles on your throbbing clit. Voice strangled, sweat beading on his forehead, thrusts becoming increasingly sloppier. “How about now?”

“Ah- hngh- oh fuck. Satoru!” You could only moan softly in response, broken whimpers leaving you each time his tip kissed your cervix. Angling his hips just right to expertly brush against that one spot he knew so well would have you keening and bucking up into his cock. Your face almost burns at the sheer familiarity of it all. This bastard knew you too well. 

And something about that made such an uncomfortable, prickly feeling pool in your stomach. 

Something which you knew would only be sated if you looped your arms around his neck. Nails digging into his sculpted back as you pulled him impossibly closer.

Kissing his flushed cheeks as he murmurs, “Take it back, sweetheart.”

Despite the thick cock splitting you in half till you probably couldn’t walk tomorrow morning, you find it in yourself to huff out a soft laugh at the way Satoru’s tone teetered on just that endearing side of sulky. “Fine. You win, Toru.” you whisper into his lips,

And then you’re cumming. White-hot pleasure flashing behind your eyes and Satoru’s lips gently slotting against yours as he fucked you through your high. Acting as if the fucked-out whimper of his nickname is one he’ll never forget. 

As if he couldn’t cum simply from hearing it leave your pretty lips. And he does, shooting thick, hot ropes of cum painting your plushy walls white with a raw groan of your name. It oozes out of your cunt and onto the mess of sheets below as he fucks his seed into you as a lover would. As he would. 

It was intoxicating - everything from the way you milked his cock so sinfully, to the arms tight around his shoulders. Pulling him close, running soothingly along his skin as Satoru collapses onto you with a final, fucked-out thrust. 

And despite being a lightweight, Satoru’s never been so easily drunk off of something than he was off of you. God how he missed this - how he missed you. 

So much so that he can’t put it into words - and probably won’t ever be able to. But it’s alright, because your sticky body snug against his, and Satoru arms tenderly around your waist - but you didn’t mind. Both of you understood.

Satoru traces his fingers lazily along your side, neither of you bothering to tackle the mammoth task of cleaning up for now. Each movement slow and gentle, as if any sudden movement might shatter the delicate balance between you. 

All is quiet in your little haven, and you could almost fall asleep. The most contented one you’ve had in a while - 5 months, 3 weeks, and 7 hours ago to be exact.

But, of course, Satoru can’t keep his mouth shut for nothing. You jolt out of your reverie as he hastily tries to stifle the startled laugh that huffs out of him. Your dazed eyes meet his in the dim lighting, raising a brow in question.

“It’s just…” he starts, voice soft, “You still call me Toru. Feels like home.”

Ah.

You find yourself chuckling softly with him. Heat rushing to your cheeks, burying yourself deeper into his warm chest, to hide the embarrassingly flustered smile breaking out across your face if anything. 

Chuckling, Satoru shifts closer, touch now feather-light against your cheek, tracing the line of your jaw with his fingertips. Faltering ever-so-slightly as you mutter out, “Happy anniversary, by the way. I didn’t say it earlier because someone was being a public menace.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault that someone locked me out of my own honeymoon suite.” he laughs, drinking in your pretty lil’ smile. 

Ah, you were perfect. As you always were. Satoru can’t help but utter out a little, “Hey, if I tell you something absolutely stupid, would you promise not to make me fish food?”

“Absolutely not.”

He knew you’d say that. So he flashes you an easy grin, a hint of nervousness in it that he’s sure you see through - you always do. 

“So…” he begins, “First thing’s first, I’m thinking of expanding my father’s company further overseas and it might just so happen that I’m leading the branch development and get to pick where exactly.”

God, you made him feel like such a teenager. At your stunned silence, Satoru could barely raise his eyes to meet yours as he plows on, stumbling so uncharacteristically over his words, “You, I picked where you are.”

You’re breathless, words barely audible as his sinks in. “What? Toru that’s-”

“And don’t be mad but you kinda sorta didn’t-win-the-raffle-so-instead-I-planned-this-getaway-when-we-were-together.”

Any and every trace of breathless euphoria leaves your tone as you narrow your eyes at the very guilty Satoru beside you. Fidgeting under your intense scrutiny. Finally - after what seems like an eternity - you find your senses after his whiplash-inducing information dump. 

A hand immediately shoots out to squeeze his side, right where you knew he was dangerously ticklish.

“You sneaky little-” you scold over his laughed out yells of, “Mercy! No murder on our honeymoon!” squirming helplessly beneath you.

“I can’t believe you let me chug all that ice cream.”

“Exactly- hah- help! You w-would’ve been so sad that you ah- didn’t win.” he manages to choke out under your attack.

Finally relenting, only once you’re sure he’ll be feeling the burn of laughter until your flight tomorrow, you release him from your grasp. A satisfied smirk playing on your lips as you lean in close. “You’re lucky I still love you, you smug bastard” you deadpan.

“Aww, you beat me to it.” Satoru whines. Yet he reaches out to cup your cheek, “And I love you,” words hanging in the air like a promise. “With every fiber of my being.”

You let yourself be begrudgingly pulled into his embrace again, hands caressing along your skin like the highest form of worship. Satoru sighs out a contented, “Best honeymoon ever.” 

But of course, you couldn’t help but bully your idiotic boyfriend. “This is not a honeymoon, Toru.” you mutter into his heated skin.

He only presses you closer to him. Yeah maybe not, fingers deftly dancing along your left hand. But maybe next time. 

“Wanna watch the stars and tell me all about that branch development?”

“Of course, sweetheart, but first can you at least unblock me on Gmail now?”

“...”

You broke up with Gojo Satoru exactly 5 months, 3 weeks, and 12 hours ago. And as for how long it’s been since he won you back - well, you think it might just be one of the few things you didn’t keep count of.

A/N. Based on my vacay at Lily Beach except I didn’t meet my future husband there :0

Plagiarism not authorized.

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #tonywrites

[ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes]

"Do they end up together?"

pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader

genre: fluff

el's thoughts: it's a bit rough but super cute!! it's been wayyyyy too long since i've written for him haha

The sound of rain echoed through the windows into the Gryffindor common room while the warmth from the fire fought off the cold draft. Y/N lay on the couch in front of the bright flames with her blanket tossed over her outstretched legs, her mug of tea had long gone cold sitting on the table beside her. 

“Whatcha reading there, Dove?”

Y/N jumped in her seat and stuffed the book behind the pillows on the couch. “Nothing,” she smiled up at the tall boy as he walked to stand in front of the fireplace. “Nothing.”

Remus eyed her suspiciously with a smirk and hummed. He threw himself on the couch beside her, moving his body to lay his head on her lap. He snatched the book from behind the pillows at his side and held it out of her reach. He chuckled when he saw the title, “It only took you how long?”

Y/N threw her head back and groaned while trying to shove him away from her. “I know I knooow, Rem. It really is a good book.” She could feel him roll his eyes. “Okay fine, you were right. You were right all along. Happy?” She looked back down at him only to find him already watching her.

He said nothing but smiled before he sat up and lifted her feet to place on his lap. “Very. Now, what part are you at?”

Y/N started explaining the scene, describing her favorite characters. Remus watched with a fond smile. “Who’s your favorite character?” she asked him when she finished her rant. 

She stared at Remus, dazed while she listened to him talk about his favorite characters and explain why all the while carefully avoiding spoilers for her. 

Her best friend since their first year and the only other sane person in their tight group of friends. Her fellow lover-of-books. Her confidant and shoulder to lean on. There isn’t a single problem she had had that Remus didn’t already know about. It would be a safe bet to assume that he knew more about her than she did. 

“I guess in summary I really like her as a character ‘cause she reminds me of you.” He grinned up at her smugly. 

“You cheeky bastard,” she muttered, trying to hide the blush crawling its way up her neck. 

“Only for you, Dove.”

His eyes bore into hers, bearing nothing but his playful and teasing nature. The warm glow of the slowly dying fire reflected in his chocolate eyes. Y/N knew she had to look away soon, she’d been staring for a few seconds too long now and time only continued to make its way by, but she couldn’t bring herself to look away.

Remus slowly leaned closer to her, moving his hand to rest by her side to support his weight.

“Does she actually remind you of me?” Y/N asked almost breathlessly, referring back to his favorite character. 

“I wouldn’t say so if the truth was otherwise,” he whispered back. 

She leaned closer to him and time seemed to lay still, the background noises of the few students still awake instantly became muffled in her ears. The fire’s warmth seemed to grow tenfold as she felt her face heat up. “Tell me, do they end up together?”

She was mesmerized as his lips curled into a smirk. “Who are we talking about now? You’re gonna have to clarify.”

“Oh shut up.” Her hands came up to hold both sides of his face as she finally brought her lips to his. The kiss was soft like they were testing the waters, but when neither of them pulled away Remus placed his hand on his waist and pulled her closer. Their lips fit together like a puzzle. 

Y/N hummed and moved her hands to the nape of his neck to pull gently at his baby hairs. 

“Finally!”

The pair jumped apart as if they were burned by each other’s touch. They turned to see James, Sirius, and Lily standing there with wide smiles and proud smirks. 

“I’d say it’s about time,” Lily laughed. 

Y/N groaned and buried her head in the cushions. “Lily…” she dragged out her friend's name purely out of embarrassment. 

Remus chuckled, “I’d have to agree with you, Lils.”

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagines #ellora.writes

[rubberonmyduck]

"Can you be my Date?"

Lucifer Morningstar x Human! Reader (Female)

ao3 Link

To keep up is image and discourage the hellish media from knowing about Lucifer's divorce, Lucifer finds a random human, you, to pose as his date at one of his aristocratic parties. 5,588 Words

   Upon entry into Hell, the usual sinner would learn a few things very quickly.

     They were absolutely stuck in this wretched place, that much was certain, but this wretched place seemed a lot less inhumane than the books say it was. Sure, it was still Hell , but it was more of a corporate America type of Hell than a damned for all eternity type. The place had a monarch installed, but the ruler seemed to do very little, barely showing his face and making laws very less. It was as if he weren’t even there.

     But he was, oh Lucifer was there. The denizens over the years remembered less and less about the king, but they knew two things for certain. He had a wife, and he had a daughter. 

     His daughter, Charlie, she would self-proclaim to any and every news outlet who interviewed her, was a relaxed, care-free, and unnecessarily happy demon. She ran a hotel that was less than appealing to most folk and the princess was pretty much seen as an absolute joke.

     Lucifer’s wife however, a look that's now been centuries forgotten under lies and trickery, was never in the spotlight anymore. Had the two not had a daughter, most new sinners would likely assume Lucifer was lying about his so-called significant other.

     And frankly? He kind of was.

     Lucifer sat alone on one of the loveseats, the fire in the fireplace slowly burning out after having been on for so long. Occasionally would he flick his wrist and reset the flame to full blaze, but he was too engulfed in his own mind to do it once more. 

     Every century the Sins would hold a get-together to commemorate themselves– Lucifer, a prideful man had thought of this first and proposed to the others– and keep spirits high and tensions away from the Rings. Typically each Sin would bring along a guest to the rendezvous, adding to the sea of important people invited every year. More often than not it would be their significant other– Asmodeus would bring Fizzarolli, Beelzebub would bring Vortex, Mammon would bring… Well, admittedly his guest would change every time to the point the Sin of Pride was never sure who hell that greedy bastard was dating. And Lucifer would bring Lilith.

     Lucifer glanced down at the wedding ring he still had looped around his finger. He pulled the piece of metal off, inspecting it with a sigh. 

     Beelzebub and Asmodeus knew about his divorce first, both of which explained it to the other sins so Lucifer didn’t need to repeat the story another four times, but it was still a complicated moment now. Lilith wasn’t public about the divorce, and Lucifer never mentioned it to anyone besides his daughter after the fact, so it wasn’t common knowledge to anyone else that he was single. At this point he was mostly over it– but the thought of having the media drag him and reopen the wounds again was daunting. 

     That's when Beelzebub came up with an idea. People knew Lucifer’s wife was a human, so she had suggested maybe Lucifer find a human willing to pose as his wife for the night. That way, the media and fellow royalty attending the event would be none the wiser. In another century, they were sure Lucifer would be healed enough to spill the beans. 

     The idea seemed simple enough. There had to be at least one human willing enough to assist him, and maybe if he offered some sort of wealth or immortality he could sway them to his side. Surely any human he took down to Hell would be stuck with that future, but the percentage of humans that ended up down here was enough to confirm Lucifer didn’t have to worry about changing their fate. The only issue was how . How was Lucifer going to find someone? Should he hold an event? Stalk some people on the streets? Where would he even go, Earth was unnecessarily huge and overpopulated. He thought on it for hours that night and into the next morning, but eventually, he settled on the simplest solution. Snapping his fingers, Lucifer opened up a portal and walked through it.

     It was a boring morning as you were lounging on your couch, a shitty television show playing in the background as you scrolled on your phone. It was a lazy day– you had the bowl of popcorn and two half empty bottles of soda sitting on the coffee table to prove it. Your boss gave you a few days off of work, and there wasn’t much to do when your friends were all stuck working their one dead-end nine to fives. You tossed your phone down onto the cushion beside you, letting out a frustrated groan followed by a yawn.

     It was only half fast four pm, there was no way you’d let yourself sleep. Just because you had nowhere to be tomorrow, didn’t mean you wanted to be awake all night because of a terrible decision from the day before. But a few moments of shut-eye wouldn't hurt, right? You let your eyes close, leaning your head back. 

     “Are you awake?”

     You let out a little hum of confirmation, your brain not fully catching up. You sunk a little deeper into the couch, trying to convey to your roommate you didn’t want to do anything. As you did though, something hit you. 

     Your roommate was out of the country. 

     And your roommate definitely did not sound like a man.

     Your eyes shot open, staring in the direction ahead to see a man standing in front of you. 

     “What the FUCK ,” You sat up quickly before trying to crawl over the back of your couch to get away from the person, flopping down on the ground hard as your did. That didn’t deter you though, as you quickly scooted back all the way to your kitchen table, freely reaching on it until your hands came in contact with the plastic butter knife you left on it earlier. You pointed it at the stranger. 

     Meanwhile, the stranger just looked at you blankly. As the two of you stared at each other, you were able to take in more of the appearance of him. He was awfully pale on his face, save for a pink, round dot on both of his cheeks. His hair was light blond, and he was wearing some pink and white striped shirt. If you looked closer at his arms, you could tell the blackness was more skin like than a long glove. His pants were as white as his skin, and his boots were awfully tall. He kind of looked like a cosplayer, you determined. 

     “Who– Who the fuck are you!” You stuttered, your hand with the butter knife shaking. The man just gave you a grin, slowly walking over to you with his hands held in front of himself as a show he means no harm. 

     Once he was only a few feet in front of you, he gave you a slight bow. 

     “Lucifer Morningstar, darling!”

     You blinked at him.

     “Uh. Are you trying to rob me?” You cocked your head to the side. You haven’t been robbed before, but you were pretty sure this isn’t how robberies work. “No, you’re doing it wrong if you are. Are you a Jehovah witness? I told you guys to stop breaking in !” 

     “Er,” The man reached forward and pushed on your butter knife, lowering your weapon. It wasn’t something he was particularly afraid of, but he didn’t want to find out if he should be. “Quite the opposite actually– wait, they’ve broken into your house before?”

     You let the butter knife fall to the ground. “They used to do it like once a month.” You pointed to a window behind the man. “That’s why that window is boarded up.” 

     The man did an ‘O’ shape with his mouth, looking over to the window in question. This would be a perfect opportunity to try and stab the man, but you were too curious and if he was being nice now , you mise well savor it. You should really call the cops though. 

     “Who are you?”

     “I already told you my name–”

     “I have my doubts that’s your name.”

     The man looked almost offended, crossing his arm over his chest and huffing. 

     “It is!”

     “You sound like a cultist.” You commented. You pushed yourself off the ground, standing with the supposed ‘Lucifer’. You noticed quickly you had a few inches on him, but otherwise he seemed like a semi-normal man.

     “I’m more-so the Devil.” He replied. Lucifer started tapping his foot on the ground, a bit of impatience creeping up on him.

     “Ah, yes, the Devil himself broke into my house. How believable .”

     “You’re being difficult.” 

     You raised an eyebrow at the man, leaning back against the table behind you. 

     “You don’t look like the Devil, Lucifer.”

     As you said that, the tv flashed an image of Good Omen’s version of Satan on the screen. You gestured for Lucifer to look at it. There was a sour look on his face as he did.

     “You humans' depictions of me get weirder and weirder,” He muttered, shaking his head at the sight. He turned back to you with a look of determination. “How about I prove it to you?”

     With a flick of his wrist, the two of you seemed to be teleported to a different room, the walls covered in large windows and decorated in tacky wallpaper everywhere else. You were sitting at a table, a teacup in front of you. Slightly above it was a levitating teapot, pouring its contents into the cup before moving to pour into another cup, this one sat in front of Lucifer. He had a more businesslike suit on. You looked down at yourself, seeing a red dress on you instead of your normal lounge-wear. There were two more chairs at the table, both with a unique rubber duck sitting on each.

     “How– how did you do that? Am I dreaming?”

     Lucifer made a jazz hands motion. “Magic! You are awake.”

     What looked to be a clone of Lucifer walked over and grabbed the teapot from the table, but before he walked away, he gave you a hard pinch on your shoulder.

     “ Ow !”

     The clone snickered, then disappeared.

     Lucifer then snapped his fingers, the entire scenery disappearing around you. Your clothes were reverted back to normal, as was his, but now the two of you were sitting on your couch. Lucifer handed a cold, full can of soda over to you.

     “You, you’re–”

     “The Devil himself, yes!” Lucifer took a sip out of the teacup he seemed to still have, sticking his tongue out a bit and the hotness of it that he wasn’t expecting. You noticed it was forked, adding onto the absurdity.

     You set the offered soda on the coffee table before scooting a bit to the side away from Lucifer. As you did this, you gripped at your forearms, trying to close yourself off from the man. He paid no mind to your movements, and kept talking.

     “I need a favor,” Lucifer stated, figuring that beating around the shrubs would put him more into a time constraint than he already was. Lucifer set his tea down on the table next to your own drink. He turned his body towards you.

     “A favor?” You squinted at him. You were still convinced this was some awful dream. That you would wake up on your couch in a few moments, no Devil sitting next to you and the streetlights shining in reminding you that you slept for too long. But when none of that happened, you just decided to hear the Devil out.

     “I have a slight issue, and I was hoping you’d be able to help me.”

     “If you’re asking to have sex with me, I’m going to have to decline–”

     “No,” Lucifer cut you off, looking mildly disturbed. “No no no, no. Not that. Oh Satan no .” 

     “Did you just–” 

     “Different guy! I don’t want to fuck you.” Lucifer looked you up and down, before shaking his head. “I need to date you!”

     “Ehm– Usually I prefer being taken to dinner out first?”

     Lucifer stood up. He brushed down his shirt, smoothing the wrinkles. He looked down at you and rolled his eyes.

     “I need someone to pose as my date tomorrow night. Just for a night.”

     “Your date? For what?”

     “The Sins and I– Uh, we have a party every once in a while. To celebrate another century of Hell not having collapsed on itself.” 

     You gave Lucifer a nod, before glancing down at his hands. There was a golden band on his ring finger. 

     “Shouldn’t you take your wife to this event?”

     Lucifer looked down at the ring on his hand. A small blush appeared on his face as he moved the hand behind his back. 

     “We’re divorced.”

     You raised an eyebrow. Definitely a can of worms you didn’t want to deal with. You stood up alongside Lucifer, crossing your arms and tilting your head at him. 

     “Look, I don’t really know a whole lot about the religious lore you come from, but aren’t there other people who live in Hell? Couldn’t you ask them?” 

     “My ex-wife,” Lucifer started, an annoyed tone creeping back up his throat, “Was a human. There’s no humans in Hell.” 

     You gave him a little hum. “Wouldn’t your sin-ly friends notice you have another woman with you?” 

     “They already know about the divorce, it's the media that assumes I’m still married, and I’d prefer it to stay that way.” 

     “I’ve never met your wife, but I’m pretty sure I don’t look like her, Lucifer.”

     “Sure you do!” Lucifer raised one of his hands to the top of your head, comparing the high difference between the two of you. He stuck his tongue out as he thought. Lucifer then held a piece of your hair in his hands. “You’re about the same height. If anyone asks, I’ll just say you dyed your hair.” 

     “You don’t even know who I am. Why are you asking me? Why not ask some woman from the cults that follow you?”

     “Those people are nuts! Besides, you seem nice enough. Haven’t stabbed me at all, that's pretty much all I can ask from a wife.”

     “How did you even find me?” 

     “Well,” Lucifer clasped his hands together in an awkward manor, his cheeks reddening. “I kind of opened the portal right inside your little house here,”

     “Apartment.”

     “Apartment. You should really upgrade this. But uh, by the looks of your calendar over there,” Lucifer pointed towards the kitchen, his sights on the calendar you had hanging on your fridge. “You happen to be free tomorrow night.”

     “How– How long have you been in here?”

     Lucifer counted a few fingers on his hand. “Maybe three hours?”

     You gaped at him. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.” Sighing, you let yourself fall back down onto the couch. You rubbed your face with one of your hands.

     “You know what, Lucifer? I’m feeling generous.” You stated, taking the hand off your face to look back up at Lucifer. He grinned at your words. “But! I know about you demons and your little deal things. What am I getting out of this?” 

     Lucifer chuckled. “Of course I wouldn’t ask you this without something in return.” Lucifer held his hand out towards you. Angelic energy seemed to dissipate off of it at the motion. “A favor from me at any time of your choosing. You get to fully keep your soul, too! The favor can be anything.” 

     Despite the skeptical look on your face, you decided hey, why not? What was the worst that could happen, anyways? You die? You weren’t fond of death, but now knowing the afterworld did actually exist, the fear you originally had dissipated with every second that went by. You grasped Lucifer’s hand with your own. The grin re-appeared across his face, looking almost creepier this time as the room around you seemed to glitch and turn red and gold. A rush of air passed you two, and you were able to make out the symbol of a star below where you stood. 

     Lucifer let go of your hand, the room around you turning back to normal. 

     “It’s a deal! I’ll pick you up at 8,” Lucifer turned to the side, flicking his wrist and opening a golden-ringed portal beside him. As he stepped though, he let you know one last thing. “There’s a purple dress in your closet for you!”

     And the dress was there. This whole thing seemed ridiculous. After Lucifer left the day before, you passed out on your couch for the night. Thinking it was a dream, you almost weren’t going to bother reminding yourself to get ready, but you felt a weird tugging sensation, convincing yourself to take a peep in your closet for that supposed purple dress. It was on a hanger, a yellow sticky note on it saying ‘don't forget!’ with a little doodle of a rubber duck. It took you a couple minutes of fumbling to get the outfit on properly, but once you did you were quick to put on some simple makeup and black heels, finally getting the chance to take a good look at yourself in your roommate’s full length mirror a few minutes before Lucifer was supposed to pick you up. 

     Almost like he sensed you were ready, a golden portal much like yesterday appeared besides you. You watched as Lucifer stepped out of it. Instead of the shirt he wore yesterday, the man had on a white dress shirt with matching white pants. He was wearing the same black boots from yesterday, his hair pushed back in the same way but with a top-hat resting on it. You noticed a snake was wrapped around it, as well as an apple pinned to the side next to his pseudo crown. The snake blinked at you.

     Lucifer’s eyes widened as he looked at you, and he almost dropped the cane that he was holding. A slight blush spread across his face. “You look nice,” he stuttered out.

     You gave him a little smile. “You do too.”

     Nice wasn’t even the beginning of it. He looked hot, the sight in front of you bringing an all new meaning to the phrase ‘devilishly handsome’. You had to bite your bottom lip to make sure your jaw wasn’t hanging open.

     Lucifer seemed to snap out of his own daze. He held a hand out towards you, a grin reappearing on his face.

     “Shall we?”

     You took his hand. You let Lucifer walk you through the portal– the sensation was weird, like your skin was being pricked in every spot, your stomach dropping much like how it would on a rollercoaster. The feeling disappeared as soon as it came, and you were presented with the sight of a tall, long hallway. Tiny, impish creatures were rushing back and forth, a few carrying trays of drinks and hors d'oeuvres. Others were holding what looked to be last minute party decorations. Despite their frantic running, none bumped into the two of you as you walked down the hallway. 

     Lucifer leaned his head towards yours. “You don’t have to speak at all if you don't want to,” he whispered. “But fair warning, no one else down here looks as human as I do.” 

     You nodded, turning your head slightly to look over at him.

     “How long will this last?” You questioned. You didn’t have anywhere to be, but you were curious to know if this was an all night party or not.”

     “Not as long as you think,” he replied. “If you need to abandon ship at any time, let me know.”

     The two of you came to a stop. You turned back in front of you, and you were presented with the sight of a large ballroom. It looked similar to the one from the movie the Beauty and the Beast, but this room was filled with various different creatures, each of wildly different heights and features. Some of them looked like the imps you saw in the hallway, but others had the features of birds, sharks, and any other animal you could think of, there was at least one of them. They all looked classy, making you feel out of place. You started to shrink in on yourself, before feeling one of Lucifer’s hands firmly on your back, helping you keep your composure. You saw him smile up at you. 

     “Lucifer!” A deep voice cut you out of your moment, and you turned to see an exceptionally large man with a big puff of hair. You were able to make out two different faces in the hair, one resembling a ram and the other a bull. He had a blue suit on, and next to him was a creature like the imps, but he looked much more robotic than the rest. 

     “I was wondering when you would show up!” The man placed a hang on Lucifer’s shoulder, giving him a friendly shake before he looked over to you. 

     “ Lilith .” He winked. His voice was loud enough to attract the attention of others, who were muttering to each other, a few pointing at you. Lucifer explained that the other Sins knew he was divorced, but the rest of Hell’s population didn’t. Lilith must've been the name of his ex-wife. 

     Lucifer’s hand slid down to your waist, pulling you in closer to his body. 

     “Asmodeus, it’s very good to see you. Have you seen Beelzebub?”

     Asmodeus nodded, then tilted his head to an area on the other side of the room. “Last I saw her she was at the snack table.”

     Asmodeus then leaned in closer to the two of you, his voice lowering so only you two could hear him.

     “She looks very similar to Lilith.” Asmodeus commented, looking over at you a bit more intensely. You could almost feel the demonic aura he gave off.

     “Do you think anyone will notice?” Lucifer’s voice was laced with fear. Asmodeus chuckled.

     “When I saw you two walk in, I thought you somehow convinced Lilith to attend.” Asmodeus gave him a reassuring smile. Lucifer returned it. Asmodeus gave Lucifer a pat on the back, before standing up straighter like he was before. The Sin put his hand on the shoulder of the people with him.

     “It was wonderful to see you two again,” his voice was as loud as it was before. He nudged the person with him, signaling for the two of them to take their leave. “Hopefully we can catch up more later!”

     With that, they disappeared into the crowd, leaving you and Lucifer alone together once again. Lucifer let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

     “Thank Lucifer that worked,” He huffed, planning a hand on his chest dramatically. You patted him on the back, before pushing him to walk with you. 

     “Save the theatrics for later, maybe?” You suggested. “He said Beelzebub was at the snack table.”

     “Yes! Thank you,” Lucifer pulled you with him, making your way across the floor. You were about halfway there before the lights dimmed. Music started to play, echoing across the walls to the point where you were unsure of where it was coming from. A spotlight lit up on the middle of the floor, right over where you and Lucifer were standing. The other demons around you backed up out of the light, leaving the two of you alone.

     Lucifer gave you a sheepish grin, leaning in by your ear.

     “I thought there would be a little more time.” He whispered, before leaning back and holding his hand out towards you. 

     “Care for a quick dance, my love?” 

     The light on his pale skin did the opposite of washing him out– It seemed like it enhanced his features. The suit was a creamier white than it looked earlier in your bedroom. The golden wedding band was still on his hand, reflecting the light off of it to who knows where. The snake was asleep now, too. You were able to see the stray pieces of hair sticking out in random directions, and you were able to see the tiny scars that adorned his face from years of living. It only made him look more handsome, you quickly decided. 

     You took his hand, allowing him to swing it across his shoulder, his other hand nudging your other arm to join in. His hands rested on your hips, pulling you closer to his body. The two of you started to sway along with the music. Lucifer led you into a classic waltz, going slowly to gage how comfortable you were with it, and once you got a handle on the movements, you dancing picked up speed. The room around you was devoid of chatter, and all eyes were on the pair in the middle. You were sure you saw Asmodeus smiling out of the corner of your eye, but you were too focused on Lucifer in front of you. His expression was soft, full of admiration and love. You felt Lucifer twirl the two of you together, before grabbing onto one of your hands and pushing you into an assisted spin. As you stumbled to the side, Lucifer gracefully brought you down into a dip, holding you gently by your waist as he looked down at you with a smile. You stared back up at him, the pounding of your heart drowning out the music around you. Lucifer was about to speak, but was cut off by you stumbling out of his grip, backing up with a look of panic on your face.

     “I– I need to use the restroom,” you stuttered out, before rushing out of the spotlight and pushing through the crowd to the direction you assumed was the bathroom.

     Slipping through the doors, you let out a tiny cry as you slid down the wall next to you. You hugged our knees to yourself, your breath ragged. You could feel yourself start to cry. I barely know the guy , you thought as you tried to stop yourself from making noise.

      “I can’t be upset, this is just for show.” You berated yourself. “You don’t like him. He’s just a hot, kind guy who needed help! It doesn’t– it doesn’t matter how lovingly he looked at you. He’s probably pissed at you for running away,” Your voice kept getting cut off by your own hiccups.

     “Stupid!” You barely heard the door to the bathroom creaking open. 

     “Is someone in– Oh my Satan , girl, are you okay?”

     You looked up, your face stained with tears and mascara. The girl closed the door behind her, locking it before turning to face you fully again. Her skin was yellow and blackish, reminding you of a bee. But unlike a bee, she had dog-like and fox-like features adorning her body and very colorful hair with a matching tail. She also had four arms, compared to the two a lot of demons in the place had. The girl kneeled down on the ground m, reaching a hand out and gently resting it on your shoulder. 

     “I’m okay,” you sniffled. You let go of your knees, letting your legs droop down to the floor. The girl properly sat down next to you. She reached into her dress pocket and pulled out a little packet of tissues.

     “Your face says otherwise,” despite her joking, her voice was soft and full of concern.

     “I’m Beelzebub. My friends call me Bee, you can call me Bee,” She grinned. You returned a weak smile to her. This was the Beelzebub Lucifer needed to talk to, you determined. You hoped she wouldn’t try harming you for the stunt you just pulled, but she seemed way too nice to hurt even a fly.

     “I uh– I saw you run from Lucifer,” She gave you a little punch on the shoulder. “Need me to rough him up for you?” 

     You snorted. She definitely didn’t want to kill you.

     “I panicked,” You offered. You looked at the wall across from you. It had some trashy, 90s era wallpaper on it.

     “Tell me bitch,” Beelzebub poked at your head. “What's going on in there?”

     “He’s kind of cute?” You confessed, playing with your fingers. You felt Beelzebub shake beside you, trying to hold back a laugh.

     “So you dipped? Girl, I get it,” Beelzebub let out a sigh. “Reminds me of the first time I went out with Tex.”

     You raised an eyebrow. “You– You ran away?” 

     “To a whole different ring, baby! But you know what I did?” You tilted your head at her, questioning.

     “I went back, decided hey , Why the fuck not? It can only go somewhere if you let it,” Beelzebub winked at you. She pulled you into a hug with all of her arms. It was comforting, and helped you fully ground yourself. You wiped a few stray tears off your face.

     Beelzebub helped you up off the ground. She pulled out a little makeup kit from her purse, and after a little fumbling around she was able to help you replace the mascara that was smeared all across your face. Once she determined you looked pretty enough to return to the party, she guided you out of the bathroom. With one shove towards the direction you assumed Lucifer was in, Beelzebub winked at you again.

     “Go get ‘em, tiger,”

     You made your way into the crowd, pushing past clusters of people as you looked around for Lucifer. You were tempted to shout for his name, but the moment you opened your mouth you were yanked to the side, a squeak coming out instead. You felt yourself being pulled into another room, though before you could let out a scream, a hand was placed over your mouth.

     “It’s just me,” You blinked, letting your eyes adjust to the new lighting. Lucifer was standing in front of you. He released his hand from your mouth, rubbing the back of his neck with his other.

     “I didn’t–”

     “I’m sorry!” You blurted out, cutting him off. “I didn’t mean to run away,” your voice got quieter as you spoke. Lucifer looked onto you with worry.

     “It’s okay! I’m not mad– Did I make you uncomfortable?” He backed up a little bit, letting you have a little personal space.

     “No, you didn’t. I just,” You looked everywhere but Lucifer’s eyes, unsure of what to say. Should you tell the truth? Should you like and say you just really needed to use the restroom? But when your eyes fell back onto Lucifer’s gaze, you were compelled to let him know the real reason.

     “I panicked,” You confessed, mirroring what you told Beelzebub. 

     “Why?” His voice was soft. He leaned back into your personal space, his hands slightly in the air as if he wanted to check and see if you were fully alright.

     “Did you not want to dance with me? You could’ve said so, dear,”

     There he was with the endearments again. “No, I loved it,”

     Lucifer furrowed his eyebrows. “Did someone scare you? I can go take care of them if you point them out–”

     You tuned out Lucifer’s voice, too focused on his face and how it moved as he spoke. It was enticing, really, seeing his lips open and close with every word he spoke. You couldn’t stop yourself as you leaned forward and pressed your lips against his. 

     It only happens for a few seconds, before you yanked yourself away in fear of what you just did. You started stuttering out apologies, pushing yourself against the wall behind you and gripping your forearms. You shut your eyes tightly. This is it, you thought, this is where he kills me . 

     You felt a hand on your face. It was soft, unharming as it pushed you. You opened your eyes to see Lucifer, eyes lidded and face softened. His hand properly cupped your cheek, pulling you back to his face as he kissed you in return. You gasped, returning the kiss as you wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to pull him closer. You felt him snake an arm across your waist, holding you in place in case you tried to back away from him again.

     This kiss was over too soon, Lucifer leaning back and resting his forehead against your own. He had a blush across his face. His breath was as heavy as yours was, and you could hear two different heartbeats racing in the room.

     “Let’s get you home,” Lucifer spoke softly, removing his hand from your cheek. He was about to snap his fingers before you stopped him.

     “Wait, Lucifer?” Lucifer hmm, leaning in and placing a kiss upon your cheek. 

     “Can I cash in that favor you owe me?”

     Lucifer raised an eyebrow at you.

     “Whatever did you want, my love?”

     “I want to stay with you.” You bit your bottom lip, your blush turning darker as you spoke. “I think I like you.”

     “That’s hardly a favor.” Lucifer kissed you on the lips again. “I wasn’t going to stand by and let you leave me so soon.”

     Lucifer pulled your body flush against him, and next thing you know the two of you were falling backwards into a portal, heading to a place that didn’t matter to you as long as Lucifer was with you.

#hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader

[clairewritesjjkxreader]

Sukuna’s Wife and Yuuji’s Onee-chan (Sukuna x Reincarnated!Y/N) scenario: Heian era childhood

Request by @serendipitylovescat

A/N: This is a possible origin story for Sukuna and Y/N in this onee-chan au, but I haven’t made up my mind as to how the two met and what their lives were like in the early days. Much like with the Joker’s multiple choice past, it’s the mystery that keeps on giving. Anyway, HAPPY NEW YEAR, EVERYONE.

Trigger warning: child abuse, bullying, violence, swearing

Ryomen Sukuna. Two-faced Sukuna. Bastard. Murderer. Halfling. Demon.

Normally, parents give extra thought when naming their children. For a lot of boys, they’re usually named based on desired traits like “strong” or “powerful.” But for this son, his father snidely called him “two-faced” and the name stuck. 

Like every baby when they are born, Sukuna arrived in this world covered in blood and weeping. The other villagers could only think of the worst outcome for his mother. After all, so many young wives who were healthier than she died during labor, so it was only normal to expect the stick-thin woman to pass on. 

But for better or worse, she survived. 

A smooth delivery would normally be a thing of celebration, a living mother and her plump baby were supposed to be a blessing. For Sukuna’s parents, such a thing was a curse. 

Born with four arms and four eyes and suspiciously symmetrical birthmarks, such an abomination could only be a curse. 

His father suspected his wife of seducing a yōkai, he became a drunk and beat his wife daily, unwilling to even look at the thing that she claimed to be his own son. The other villagers believed that he ate his twin inside their mother and was punished by the gods. 

No one knew the truth, not even the child himself. 

One thing they could all agree on was this: Sukuna was a monster. 

He was a monster who pushed his father into doing bad things. He was a monster who caused his mother shame and suffering, as she loved to remind him every single day.

Sukuna leaned on the tree, watching as the other kids in their little village played tag. His stomach growled but he could only ignore it. If he returned home to eat, his mother would yell at him. He only ate when she was asleep or beaten into unconsciousness by his father.

“Found you.” 

Sukuna looked up and beamed. That’s right, everyone except one person hated him.

Unlike him, you were normal as far as his eyes could see, but you didn’t like staying in your house and you didn’t talk about your family. Neither of you liked anything or anyone in this village, only each other. 

“Onigiri with fatty tuna I caught this morning,” you said, sitting next to him. 

Sukuna voraciously bit into the rice and fish, savoring every moment with gratitude. “You’re the best cook I know.”

“Tell me if you want some tea. I managed to sneak some out.”

“Thanks–” his grin faded when he spotted familiar black and blue spots on your inner arm. They were the same bruises his mother had when she tried to block her husband’s hands.

“Who did this?” He asked, his three free hands grabbing your wrist.

“Ryo-chan,” you said his nickname–you were the only one who was never afraid of saying his name–“you’re hurting me.”

“S-sorry.” He pulled away two hands and softened the grip on the remaining one. He gently rotated your arm to get a better look. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You grinned. “I know you didn’t mean to.”

“Did you—”

“Hey, Ryo-chan…” You shook off his grasp, causing him to frown, but you quickly intertwined your fingers together, making him blush. “If I told you I plan to run away, will you come with me?”

He almost dropped the onigiri. 

Your smile became sad. “I… You’re the only one I will ever miss. I don’t like this place.”

He put his remaining hands over your connected fingers and he blurted out, “Yes!”

You blinked, wide-eyed.

He cleared his throat and looked away. “I-I mean, yes, let’s go.”

Your face brightened and he smiled back. 

That’s right. Even if this damned village burned to the ground, as long as your hand never let go of his then nothing else mattered.

Additional headcanons for this scenario:

Sukuna’s dad never hit him because deep inside the man was actually afraid. So he took out his frustrations on his wife, who in turn, blames her misfortune on her son. 

Speaking of Sukuna’s mother, she was a vain beauty, the most gorgeous in their village during her prime, and was distraught when her appearance faded due to malnutrition during her pregnancy. The entire time, she silently prayed that the baby would die early so she could recover quickly. So in addition to her husband’s mistreatment of her, the loss of her looks has made her resent her son. 

The other village kids didn’t like Sukuna because he gave off a “disgusting energy” (or “bad vibes” as today’s lingo would call it). Some avoided him but others went out of their way to gang up on him, beating him up and stealing whatever he carried, be it food or toys from you.  

Sukuna didn’t fight back because he truly believed that he deserved every bad thing that happened to him. That being said, he allowed himself one selfish choice and accepted your company, enjoying your friendship. The only warmth in his otherwise dead existence.

The first time Sukuna resorted to violence was…it was a few days after your proposal. It was a few minutes before day break and he caught the other kids holding your head down a nearby pond. He didn’t know what he did, only what happened after: you were crying into his chest, hugging and thanking him despite the blood all over him. 

After washing himself, he walked you home, hair and clothes still wet from the pond, your mother was the first person to see you. Instead of concern or worry, she slapped you across the face in front of everyone before dragging you away by the hair.

Because it was your mother, he could only watch on, until your eyes met and you whimpered his name.

That night, a little village with no more than fifty people, burned to the ground as two children watched hand in hand. 

A/N: Speaking of multiple choice past; in JJK (and sadly, even in real life parts of the world), twins are considered bad luck. What if Sukuna didn’t consume his twin in utero and they both survived? What if both fell for Y/N? What if the current Sukuna killed and ate his own brother because he wanted to, in his own sick way, combine himself and his twin into one being so that Y/N wouldn’t have to choose?? Hot damn. The perfect yandere love triangle. But what a pain that would be to write without illustration LOLOLOL.

@shadowywizardarcade @hannya-exists @nineooooo @lilachaeyo @pumpkindudeishere @jessbeinme15 @fluffy-koalala @cringeycookies @frogzxch @isimpfordanielpark @marvelsgirl4ever @sanzusmom @sheccidoscar @alastorhazbin @satosuguswife @lumanii @leahlovesreading @blackstaw @boba–12

#jujutsu kaisen #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x reader #husband #married #reincarnation au #yandere #jjk #sukuna #married au #onee-chan #jjk au #sukuna heian era #hcs #headcanons #imagines #scenario #angst #fluff #past #origin story #heian era

[yandere-sins]

Happy Valentine’s, my Love

a/n: Happy Valentine’s guys! I hope you have a lovely day, regardless of the purpose of the holiday or if you’re celebrating it. Remember that if there’s nothing else to love, we can still love Yandere (;

Warning: Yandere, Detailed Violence/Gore, Long Post, Abuse mention

Valentine's Day has never been your favorite celebration of the year.

When you were single, it showed you just how alone you were as you passed by happy, kissing couples on the streets. Halloween, Christmas, and birthdays—those were all festivities shared with family and friends, so you enjoyed them as long as they kept your mind off things. When you finally got your first boyfriend, you thought that for sure, Valentine's would be enjoyable from now on too. 

But you were wrong.

You loved him. You would have sworn to anyone doubting you that you loved that cruel bastard of a man who didn't care about your poor, desperate heart, pleading to be loved by him. Being with him broke you, and latest when Valentine's Day came around, and he decided to go out with his friends rather than stay with you, you realized he didn't feel as strongly about you as you did about him. Leaving him was the best and worst decision of your whole life. Best, because you knew you'd be able to move on, find someone to appreciate you. Someone normal, someone kind.

Worst because that scumbag wouldn't let you leave him so easily.

There was no detail you spared your boyfriend when you told him about your ex. You showed him the scars, the panic in your eyes, the restraining order, and every police report that came after. You wanted him to know. Everything. Without knowing your past, you couldn't imagine a future for you two. Though it may have been early in your relationship, you needed to know if there would be another lonely or, perhaps, a warm Valentine's Day awaiting you with this man you decided to trust. You finally had your answer when he held you as you cried, rubbed your back, and comforted you. He was the right one. He was kind and he was normal, accepting and understanding of everything about you.

So, how could it be that on Valentine's Day, you heaved yet another long sigh as you lowered your phone, still no reply from your boyfriend about when he was going to be home? There was no excuse like 'working late' or 'stopping to get dinner' when he had been off for the last five hours, and you had already cooked and set the table. Nothing could have been more important on a Tuesday evening than to get home to his beloved partner waiting for him. You couldn't think of any other excuses to make except for…

He forgot.

Maybe you were being childish. Disillusioned by TV and social media, romance books and games, that someone could actually exist who'd care. Care about you, your feelings, and this stupid couple's holiday. You didn't need someone who'd take you out on a unique, fancy date just because capitalism forced him to. You didn't even want presents or your partner being overly excited about a home-cooked meal and some sexy lingerie for dessert. Honestly, you two could have celebrated on any given day that you were in love and happy with each other. You just wanted someone to care. 

There were a hundred things you could think of that you two could be doing, even if some made you slightly less comfortable than others. Your boyfriend had some interesting hobbies, like taking you out to the woods for a weekend, a secret cabin where it would only be you two and his camera that would constantly go off to capture pictures of you. He liked to practice tying knots and bought you two all kinds of sensual toys, including blindfolds and gags. Occasionally, you enjoyed the new activities too. Still, you felt like you'd never enjoy them quite as much as your boyfriend did, no matter how much fun you had. It made him happy first and foremost, so you tried to indulge him, knowing he would do the same for you. If anything, he had always been exactly what you wanted—kind, caring, affectionate, and a great cook. The bar wasn't high after what your ex did, but your boyfriend lifted it higher than you ever thought he could. 

Which was why it was so strange he forgot this day, despite it being so important on your healing journey.

He usually was the one to always remember important dates or where you put your things whenever you happened to be forgetful. He took care of you when you were sick, saying things like, "I will always make sure you're happy and loved, Darling." His attitude and efforts made you look the other way whenever he asked you to pose for his camera or trust him when he booked another weird place for a weekend trip. You didn't enjoy these things as much as he did, but knowing he's been doing them since childhood, you couldn't deny him that little bit of freedom when he changed his life to accommodate you in return. 

You wanted to be angry about him not showing up, knowing it meant the world to you, but if you were honest, you were just disappointed. Maybe you had put too many of your problems onto him. Perhaps he was tired of taking care of you all the time. Maybe this wasn't the right relationship either, no matter how much you wanted it to be. Mistakes were made before, and this could have been one of them.

Your train of thought was harshly interrupted by the sound of the front door opening, your head snapping around as you stared at your boyfriend wide-eyed and surprised as he giddily stepped inside, holding multiple bags of renowned stores you liked to shop in, grinning like he always did when seeing you. 

"Sorry for not replying earlier! I was preoccupied."

Pushing off his shoes and hanging up his coat, he spoke nonchalantly as if your inner tumult didn't face him. Which, to be fair, you didn't even know if he was aware of. The bags in his hand were clearly apology gifts that he could shove wherever. Now you did feel angry, but when your boyfriend finally stepped into the kitchen, lifting his nose in the air and humming blissfully, you almost felt bad, seeing how innocent he looked, unaware of your anger. 

"I wish I could have gotten back earlier, but I needed to take care of something," he called out from the kitchen sink, rinsing his hands dutifully. He was a bit of a goofball, wiping his wet hands on his shirt before sliding over to you on his socks, grinning from ear to ear as he met your gaze. You loved his playful ways, the tenderness of always searching for your no matter what. It was either eye contact or holding hands in public; your boyfriend never too shy to show you were with him. 

"I know what you're thinking, but I didn't forget," he chuckled, scratching his cheek nervously after he noticed your furrowed brows. Moving around the couch you were sitting on, he took a seat right next to you, knees touching as he reached for your hand that you didn't pull away, even if just to see what he'd do. "I just wanted to make this the most special Valentine's ever."

Glancing at his fingers, your eyes got stuck at the red paint around the rim of where his nails met his skin, and you raised an eyebrow, replying, "Okay…?" 

Did he make you a card? Painted a picture? Maybe he decorated a cake… You wanted to be pessimistic, given how he had already wasted most of the day being tardy. However, the promise of him actually going through the trouble of making you something from scratch was already more effort than you could have expected from him. 

"Every day, you make me so happy," your boyfriend started, a doe-eyed look on his face as he gently massaged your hand, bringing it up to his lips to kiss it reverently, his breath tingling against your skin. "Allowing me to love you is the greatest gift you could have ever made me. Just waking up every morning knowing I have you to cherish gives me the strength to overcome any hurdle in my life. I only need food, water, and you to survive my days with no regrets and no ill feelings. That's how much you changed me."

 Planting some more kisses on the back of your hand, your boyfriend looked back up at you, grinning one of his beautiful, sunny smiles that you loved so much, his dimples making him look like he was out of a movie rather than the man you called your boyfriend. Hearing his confession made your anger evaporate, tears brimming your eyes that he quickly wiped away with his thumb. "Don't cry yet, I'm not finished, and you know I can't hold back when you cry."

You both laughed off the awkwardness and the stuffy noses as you took some deep breaths, gathering your composure as best as possible. "I wouldn't want to miss you ever," he sighed blissfully, his gaze piercing right into your soul, laying the words there like bandages around your scarred heart. "You're my light, and I love you more than humanly possible. I want that, exactly this here, right now, forever."

Pulling his hand away from caressing your cheek, he fumbled with the back pocket of his jeans, pulling out a little red box shaped like a heart. Your breath hitched as you put your hand over your mouth to not let it hang wide open, surprised as your boyfriend opened the lid to reveal a beautiful ring that undoubtedly would have your size. "Will you do me the honor of marrying me?" he asked, fingertips brushing over the velvet outline of the ring box nervously. And you…

Hesitated. 

A part of you wanted nothing more than to say yes, throw your arms around him, kiss him, let him put the ring on your finger, and call you by his last name. But then the thoughts you had before your boyfriend came home returned to your mind, and suddenly, doubts flooded you. You always thought he was the one to make you happy. The one to start a family with even. You were okay with his strange obsession with his hobbies, and he did his best to support you and make you feel loved daily. Why did you doubt him just because he was a little late on Valentine's Day? It was such a silly idea after the heartfelt confession he just made, wanting you to know all the ways he felt about you. 

Strangely enough, your eyes fell to his fingernails again, the red rims and dirt under the nail. Your boyfriend was very careful about his looks. It was strange that he didn't take the time to make himself look prim and proper for something as important as a proposal. He always obsessed about looking presentable to you whenever he was out with you. Even when he swore you were beautiful no matter what, he always put in the extra effort for himself. 

"I…" you mumbled, your sentence coming to a choked stop as if invisible hands were trying to stop you from speaking and squeezing the air out of your lungs. The sparkle in your boyfriend's eyes faded as he noticed your hesitation, an expression of hurt crossing over his face even though he tried to hide it behind a smile. 

"I'm sorry, was that too rash? I mean, we never discussed it. I just thought today would be a good day, and… Wow, I… This is awkward." 

Putting the ring away, he scratched the back of his head, turning from you. You wanted to reach out, console him, tell him he didn't do anything wrong, but as you watched his expression turn from hurt to bitter, you instead hugged your own body, leaning away from him. Next you knew, he was up, pacing back and forth behind the couch, muttering mixes of justifications and excuses.

"You said yes to your ex. I thought I could erase the Valentine's trauma if I did the same. I don't really know why I thought you'd say yes... We're still in our early stages, right? Gosh, I'm dumb sometimes! Just ignore I asked. It made sense to me when I saw the ring and thought of you, but I should have consulted you beforehand. It's not even that pretty. It's not good enough for you. You deserve a better ring, bigger and a lot more expensive than this little thing. They said it's a real diamond, but I'm not so sure. Am I making it worse? Please say no, this is already too embarrassing! We can't tell anyone I was so stupid to think you'd want to marry me."

Suddenly, your boyfriend stopped, looking at you. His breathing seemed to halt as he stared into your eyes with an unnerving, emotionless gaze. "You love me, though, right?"

Blinking at him, you couldn't quite follow his tirade of sentences, but you gave a slow nod, his expression changing instantly. "Phew! Lucky me! Here I thought I ruined it." The tension that had stopped him in his tracks flowed out of him, muscles relaxing, lips curling back into a smile. 

Coming back to the couch, he took his place next to you, reaching for your hand to take into his, resting it on top of his thigh. For a moment, he stayed like this, brushing his thumb back and forth over the back of your hand as he smiled upon it thoughtfully. "This was a mistake, but I wouldn't be able to bear it if you'd hate me now. Can you tell me why it's a no?"

Looking up at you, you couldn't help but avert your gaze after catching his, seeing his kindness and patience that swirled with his love for you in it. He was always like that, understanding and accepting no matter what you did. How could you possibly confess to him that it was because you had a bad feeling about how he acted on Valentine's Day? That would make you look like an absolute idiot, wouldn't it? Rejecting him for being late?

"It's just… a little too early," you stammered, making apparent excuses. Eleven months may have been a bit quick, but you two had a lovely relationship so far. "I see…" he mumbled. His head fell back as he let out a loud laugh, squeezing your hand tightly as if he feared losing his hold. "And here I thought it was because of your ex."

"Why do you keep bringing him up?" you asked, a ping of irritation going through you at the constant reminder. 

"Well, you brought up marriage much earlier with him, but you never talked about it with me."

Odd, you thought, not remembering giving him that detail. You were sure you mentioned you thought your ex was the one you'd marry, but this seemed like a knowledge that you didn't think you told him about.

"I… maybe?" you mumbled, unsure if this had actually happened since you avoided letting your memories resurface. 

"Yeah, so I thought maybe I wasn't good enough for you. Maybe you still like your ex more than me. That's why you never brought up marriage. Don't tell me you actually still feel for that bastard?"

His words were throat-cutting sharp as he spit them out, his eyes fixating tensely on you as if to warn you not to say the wrong thing. "Of course not…" you mumbled, appalled at your boyfriend's thoughts. "You know I'm with you now. I rarely ever think of that guy…"

"Good… good," he mumbled, features softening as he looked forward, brushing his thumb over your hand again as he stared into nothingness thoughtfully. "It would be hard to piece him together again if you changed your mind."

"What?" you mumbled, cocking your head and furrowing your brows, waiting for your boyfriend to explain what he meant with his strange choice of words. 

Sitting up straight, your boyfriend stopped tracing over the back of your hand, taking a deep breath instead. Rolling his head to face you, he forced a smile on his lips, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Somehow, I knew," he sighed, a hint of regret decorating his features. "I knew you wouldn't say yes."

"I couldn't pinpoint it. It was just a feeling I had as I drove home today. It got me thinking of reasons why you would reject my proposal. I kept driving up and down the street, too nervous to just come in and ask you; that's why I was so late. Because at one turn, I ended up on your ex's street, passing by his house, and I stopped the car. I felt like it was his fault that you'd reject me, and I looked through his window, and there he was, cuddling with some girl that didn't look like you at all. Probably a whore. That's the best that scumbag can do."

He spat the last two sentences as if they disgusted him on your behalf. As if he was angry, your ex wasn't at least miserable about losing you. It seemed sweet, but your boyfriend's actions were scaring you more and more, especially when you tried to pull back your hand, his fingers clutching around your wrist tightly as he kept you right where you were, not giving you a chance to back away until you relented, letting him continue to brush his thumb back and forth over it.

"I knew I couldn't just leave him like that. He hurt you. He hurt you badly, and I wanted him to suffer. I rang the bell, waiting for him to open, but he let the slut get the door for him, that lazy piece of shit. So I wrapped my arm around her neck, pulled her to the kitchen, and slit her throat right in front of his face. And can you believe it? He cried. Like a little baby, as the bitch bled out."

Your blood ran cold as he spun his gruesome tale. You were even more inclined to get away from him as his expression filled with a mix of indifference and hatred. However, he turned towards you, reaching for your arm and pulling you closer to him, no matter how hard he had to jank until you fell into his arms. "I thought about you," he mumbled, eyes shifting back to the affectionate spark you loved being looked at with normally. He smiled as he caressed your skin, full of goosebumps. "I only thought of you as I rammed the knife into his back over and over, not giving him an easy way out while he cried and pleaded for me to stop. But I didn't. Not until he collapsed, gurgling. That's when I decided it would be the best gift for you, and I hope you'll like it."

Finally, your boyfriend took his hands away, fluttering touches turning into nothingness as he got up. He was eerily calm, not chipper like usual, and not bothered by what he just told you. He stepped around the couch, touching your shoulder as he passed you by, chuckling to himself about the good thing he did while you tried to comprehend the shock you were feeling, disgust and panic not yet having set in. 

"I got you other presents too, but nothing as good as this one," he explained, and you heard the bags rustling behind your back, sending another shiver down your spine. How ironic, you thought, realizing he did make you something homemade for Valentine's. It made a splashing sound as he pulled it out of the bag, and it explained the red stains on his fingers, but it was neither a card, a picture, nor a cake. 

You opened your mouth to scream as your boyfriend slipped the severed head of your ex wrapped in multiple layers of saran wrap into your lap, an anguished expression of pain forever chiseled into the features of the man you once loved. He had never been a good lover to you, but you were pretty sure he didn't deserve this. 

Before a single, horrified scream could rip out of your throat, your boyfriend's hand came down to rest over your mouth, pressing around your lips so nothing but muffled sounds could escape you. "I took care of it. No need to get upset now, Babe," he mumbled, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. "He can never hurt you again, and when we do decide to marry, no one will be in our way," he assured you. 

And you believed him.

"Because if anyone else tries, I'll take care of them too," he added, and you could hear the smirk on his lips, an expression so mad you didn't even want to see it crossing his face.

"I won't let anyone come between you and me. Not now, and not ever, Baby. Happy Valentine's Day, my Love."

#yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere stories #yandere oneshots #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW #OW

[kinkandkreep]

♡︎ 𝐂𝐖: 𝐑𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐯𝐢𝐛𝐞𝐬

♡︎ "__" 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞

♡︎ 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

♡︎ 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

♡︎ 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @missgab @sucidalbutpretty @kawaiimusiccollection @nekogeisha-blog @k-cris @dreamsygirl @fishisahappydog

If Mikey had known it would come to this, he would never have left you alone with Hanma. 

As he speeds along the streets leading back to the house, he can feel the tears steadily building along his waterline being whipped away by the frosty wind. 

He's teetering on the edge, pushing his CB250T to the upper limits of speed. As he whips through the cold, crimson blood hardens and dries on his knuckles, leaving his hands feeling somewhat stiff and exacerbating the achy feeling that’s begun to set in. 

'Please no __, please let it be a lie.'

He can see your home in the distance, the only visible illumination coming from the light mounted above your veranda. 

Screeching to a halt, Mikey quickly dismounts and races up to the front door, finding it predictably locked. 

As he fumbles with his keys, unable to steady his shaking hands, his head shoots up as the door begins to open without his prompting. 

There stands Shuji Hanma, and one single glance is all it takes for Manjiro’s worst fears to be realized. 

The taller man is wearing a satisfied expression, long hair that previously lay in neat waves along his back and shoulders now somewhat tousled and messy. There’s clear bruising along his neck, each mark darker than the last, and worn with nothing but pride. 

It only takes mere seconds for Manjiro to survey Hanma, and once the man has finished his observation of his adversary, he makes eye contact with him. 

Shuji’s violet orbs are alight with mischief and satisfaction, and Mikey can feel the desire to clobber the man cause his hands to physically clench into tight fists. 

 “Hey bud, wasn’t expecting you back so soon. Don’t worry, I took excellent care of __ while you were gone.”

Hanma grins, a maniacal, mocking thing, and Manjiro knows for sure that he would have caught a charge had you not chosen that moment to appear. 

“Manjiro?”

Looking around Hanma’s frame, Manjiro’s eyes land on you.

You look mostly the same as when he’d left you earlier, except that it was apparent that you’d recently exited the shower. A slight dampness clung to you, causing your skin to glisten in the light, and you’d changed clothes, now clad in only an overly large t-shirt. 

‘__, no, please. I’m sorry.’

“Well, if it’s all the same to you, I’ll be heading out now.” Hanma's still present grin is audible in his voice, and as he goes to move around Mikey, he finds the path blocked by the smaller man. 

Mikey’s breathing has picked up, and his fists have begun rhythmically clenching. 

This catches your attention, bringing you a fair amount of alarm. You knew how volatile Manjiro could be when he was angered. 

Quickly moving towards the pair, you place a placating hand on Manjiro's shoulder, your other hand coming to rest on Shuji's. 

“It was wonderful having you over for a visit, Shuj. I’ll call you later?”

Hanma nods, and proceeds to ease around Manjiro’s slightly shaking form. The smaller man knows he’s lost the fight, and begins working on calming himself down, trying to come up with a response to you. 

“Come inside Manjiro, it’s freezing out.”

2 hours earlier…

Manjiro can’t seem to shake the uneasy feeling in his gut. 

‘Should I really have left her alone with Hanma?’

Mikey’s always known that Hanma had a “thing” for you. The sleazy bastard never could learn to keep his eyes and comments to himself.

Manjiro didn’t trust him, not by a long shot. 

But, he did trust you. 

Whether or not you knew of his unfaithfulness, he trusted that you could never bring yourself to stoop to the same level as him, especially not if you were still unaware.

'__'s not like me. She's so much better.'

Considerations about his decision to leave you with Hanma and about his next move concerning his infidelity occupied Manjiro's mind up until he made it to Ken's shop. 

Parking, Mikey flicks down the kickstand, dismounting and trudging up to the door. 

He's not surprised to find it open, and upon entering he calls out for his friend.

"Kenny! I'm here." 

There's no response for a few seconds, before loud clanging sounds from upstairs. 

The noise lasts for a few seconds more, and Mikey has half a mind to head up and see what all the commotion is about before he begins to hear footsteps descending down the stairs. 

After a few moments, Mikey is able to see Ken’s face. He’s wearing a deep set scowl, the expression confusing the shorter man. 

“Hey Kenny, what’s got you all frowned up?”

Though Ken makes eye contact with Mikey, he doesn’t respond, instead grumbling under his breath. 

“Ooook, nevermind then.”

Making his way over to where Ken begins fumbling with some tools on one of his work benches, Mikey stands quietly watching for a short time before deciding he’s bored of just watching Ken mess around with his equipment and instead decides to head over to get a closer look at the bike Ken’s currently working on. 

“Woah, what maniac still owns one of these?”

It’s a Kawasaki H2 750, colloquially known as-

“The Widowmaker.”

It’s the first time Ken speaks since making his way downstairs, and Mikey startles only slightly at the man’s sudden presence right beside him. 

“750 CC’s of two stroke horsepower, enough to send a grown man flying if he’s not skilled or aware enough when mounting and starting this behemoth.” 

Mikey turns to look at Ken, whose eyes are slowly roaming across the body of the motorcycle. 

“Or, alternatively, if he’s too sure of himself and doesn’t give her her due regard. Overconfidence will destroy you in the end.”

Dark eyes snap to meet Mikey’s and the man can feel a sharp shiver run down the length of his spine. 

“Uh…uh yeah.”

The two maintain eye contact for a few moments longer before Mikey turns, unable to keep from mulling over Ken’s words. They strike home in an oddly close way, and Mikey can feel anxiety begin bubbling up in his abdomen. 

“Anyway. __ kicked you out huh?”

At that, Mikey’s head swivels quickly toward Ken, who looks at him with a dark brow raised, a somewhat amused expression on his face. 

“No, I’ll have you know that I left of my own accord.”

“Any particular reason?”

Mikey debates on whether or not to tell Ken why he left, but decides telling the truth will make him look less suspicious. 

And jealous. 

“Hanma came over for a visit. I decided to give them space and let the friends catch up.”

Ken hums, and Mikey is slightly surprised by his lackluster reaction. 

“I see. And you thought that was a smart idea?”

This gives Manjiro pause, and he fully turns to regard Ken. 

“Why wouldn’t it be?” The words come out harsher than Mikey intended, and he retracts slightly. 

Ken doesn’t seem fazed, and instead continues working on the bike before him. 

“Oh, no reason. It’s just that not many guys I know, or guys in general I would think, would leave their wife alone in their home with another man, especially one they don’t trust.”

Now, hearing it said back to him like that, Manjiro realizes it does sound rather dumb.

‘I should have thought this through more.’

Standing from where he was crouched down, Ken makes his way over to where Mikey stands, depositing the tool in his hand in the bucket behind him and looking down towards the other man. 

“Although, trust is the least thing you owe __.”

Mikey makes eye contact with Ken, whose own eyes blaze with what looks suspiciously like anger. This confuses Mikey, but more than that, he can’t ignore the loud warning bells going off in his head. 

“Ken-”

“You know, you’re a real piece of work Manjiro.”

Mikey is taken aback by the use of his real name, as evidenced by the slight jerking motion his body makes. 

“Ken, wha-”

“How dare you Mikey? After all that __ has done for you? After everything she endured for you? After all she’s given to you?! To have the nerve, the audacity to betray her like that, and then turn around and act like everything’s all fine and dandy. What is wrong with you?”

Mikey can feel his breathing begin to pick up, and water has begun to steadily accumulate on his lash line. 

“K-Ken, how did you-”

“How did I know that you’re a cheating piece of shit?” Ken whips out his cell, pulling up the photos and shoving the device in front of Manjiro’s face. 

“I saw you, idiot.”

Manjiro tries to snatch the phone and the offending images away, but Ken is quicker than him. 

“No, you don’t get to sweep this all away. __ is heartbroken because of you. Her trust has been shattered, by the man she promised to do life with. You promised, Manjiro, to be loving and loyal. I was there when you said it. I never thought a day like this would come, given how important loyalty is to you. Or at least, how important it used to be.”

Ken sneers down at Manjiro, whose tears have finally begun streaming down his face. 

“What the fuck are you crying for? Do you know __ didn’t shed a tear once I showed her the photos? And if she’s to be believed, which I’m certain she is over you, she hasn’t shed a tear since either.”

“Y-...you showed __ the pictures?”

Ken breathes heavily once through his nose. 

“Yes, I did. She deserved to know the truth, and I wasn’t just going to sit around and carry your weight, not this time.”

Ken’s not surprised when Manjiro swings a fist his way, but he’s not quite quick enough to evade the full force of the hit. 

“You son of a bitch! That wasn’t your place!”

Manjiro is seething, feeling so angry and betrayed and scared that he’s physically shaking. 

The irony of the situation completely flies over his head in the moment, but Ken won’t let him go unawares. 

The taller man chuckles, wiping at his slightly bleeding lip. 

“You think you have any right to be angry? Imagine how __ felt, to find out her husband has been fucking some tramp behind her back for who knows how long.”

Manjiro swings again, but the time Ken successfully dodges, instead returning with a blow of his own. Manjiro’s head whips to the side, and when he faces Ken again, he’s the appearance of a feral dog. 

The two begin to duke it out, exchanging hits and shouting vile words at one another. 

It only stops once Ken speaks in a low tone. 

“You know, you deserve whatever punishment __ decides to dish out.”

The two men have separated for the time being, each one breathing heavily, bloodied and with bruises developing along their faces and knuckles. They’ve miraculously managed not to make a mess of the shop. 

They make eye contact, and Ken smirks. 

“No matter who it’s with.”

Manjiro’s eyes widen as realization dawns on him at Ken’s words.

Without speaking, he bolts for his bike, quickly starting the engine and peeling away. 

Back in the present moment, it’s quiet between the two of you. 

Manjiro refuses to make eye contact, while you stare unabashedly at him. 

“You’re bloody. You and Ken get into a fight or something?”

Manjiro winces at your bored tone. In any other circumstance, you would be much more attentive and caring if he came home with steadily forming bruises and bloodied hands. 

He knows he can only blame himself for how things have changed. 

It takes him a few moments to respond, but when he does the words shake around the edges. 

"Y-yeah, nothing major just…a little disagreement."

"Was it about me?" 

Manjiro’s head snaps up, wide obsidian eyes locked onto yours. 

Your expression is as uninterested as your tone of voice. 

The man flounders for a response, not wanting to tell the truth, but swiftly realizing that now is not the time to try and preserve his pride or coddle his ego. 

"...Yes."

"Are you still angry?"

Manjiro stops for a moment to consider your question. 

Is he still angry? 

It only takes him a second to come to the conclusion. 

"...No. No, I'm just….still a little shaken is all." 

You hum, looking away for a moment before settling your gaze back onto your husband. 

"Good." 

With that, you stand, and begin making your way upstairs to your bedroom. 

Manjiro watches you as you go, contemplating how on Earth he's going to repair your shattered relationship. 

Minutes later, his phone rings.

This time, he blocks the number.

ᵃ/ⁿ: ...ˢᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒ 😃....ʰᵒʷ ᵃʳᵉ ʷᵉ ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿ'?

ⁱ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉʳᵉˡʸ ᵃᵖᵒˡᵒᵍⁱᶻᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵐᵉ ˢᵒ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᶜʰᵃᵖᵗᵉʳ ᵒᵘᵗ ʸ'ᵃˡˡ. ʷʰᵉⁿ ⁱ ˢᵃʸ ⁱ ʷᵃˢ ˢᵗᵘᶜᵏ ⁱ ʷᵃˢ STUCK. 😭

ᵇᵘᵗ, ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳᵗʰᵉˡᵉˢˢ, ⁱ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ʸ'ᵃˡˡ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸᵉᵈ! ⁱ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᶜʰᵃᵖᵗᵉʳ ʷᵃˢ ᵏⁱⁿᵈᵃ ˢʰᵒʳᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ⁱ'ᵛᵉ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵉⁿ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵘʳᵈˡᵉ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ ˢᵘᵇˢᵉᵠᵘᵉⁿᵗ ᶜʰᵃᵖᵗᵉʳˢ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ˢᵖᵉᵉᵈⁱˡʸ.

ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸ'ᵃˡˡ ᶠᵒʳ ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿ'! ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵃ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵒⁿᵉ! 👋🏾

#tokyo revengers #tokyo rev #tokrev #manjiro sano #sano manjiro #tw cheating #cw cheating #sano mikey manjiro #sano manjiro x reader #manjiro sano x reader #cheater manjiro sano #cheater sano manjiro #cheater mikey

[upon-a-starry-night]

Number Neighbors Pt.9

Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Natasha Masterlist Series Masterlist

Word Count: 745

Summary:  When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little?

---

You stirred your cup of freshly made coffee as you thought of how close you and Nat had gotten over the past few months. You’d just finished some mild cleaning and were taking a break to make your third cup of liquid energy. There was no way you’d normally have the energy to clean your apartment without caffeine, and honestly, you were considering switching to energy drinks, the taste of coffee was becoming too…bitter.

Although you had to admit at least the taste matched your mood. If your mother were here she would berate you for how much pacing you’ve been doing, but you couldn't help it. Every time you let yourself rest your thoughts drifted to Nat.

 You were worried you may have overstepped after your last conversation.

~

You and Nat had been texting over the weekend as you usually would when Nat expressed to you that her work was probably going to consume her for a while again this week, you outwardly groaned at the information. You knew that meant she probably wasn’t going to be able to text you the entire time. It always made you upset when you couldn’t text her, you wouldn’t ever admit how dependent you’d become on her presence out loud. 

This time though, as you lay on your bed under the covers as the city lit up with its usual Saturday night party-goers, you listened to the laughs of friend groups and couples outside of your window and you found yourself succumbing to your usual melancholy loneliness. It was that same hollow feeling and the thought of being virtually alone all week that led you to confess something you knew you probably shouldn’t have

       Nat🔪:

Y/n🍦: 

I wish I could hear your voice.

The thought occurred to you many times as your friendship progressed, along with other terribly intrusive thoughts about her appearance and whether or not she was as beautiful as you’d begun picturing her to be. Nat didn’t respond to your message for a while and it got to the point where you stopped staring at the gray “seen” on your phone and turned the TV on for some comfort. Anxiety began to creep into your blood and you realized after watching the credits roll on an episode that you’d not even been able to pay the TV any attention. 

You began to nervously pick at your skin, refusing to acknowledge the lump threatening to form in your throat. You’d googled so many times if it was appropriate to be so forward with online friends- Google the lying bastard told you it was common for online friends to send each other voice messages and even Facetime from time to time. 

You knew it would be different with Nat, everything was. But you guessed some stupid hopeful part of your brain thought maybe…

You’re forced out of your thoughts by the sound of your phone buzzing, you quickly grab it and unlock it, heart pounding in your ears as you stare at the new message

          Nat🔪:

Nat🔪:

You know I can’t do that.

It was such a simple message but it still made you ache all the same. You typed out a blank response and shut off your phone for the night, you doubted she was going to respond anyway.

Y/n🍦:

Yeah.

You fell asleep soon after that, missing the sound of your phone buzzing once more as you turned in bed.

Nat🔪:

I’m sorry.

That was the last message you’d gotten from Nat, and while you were broken up about it you were also salty. You didn’t text her on Sunday when you realized that it had always been you who texted first, and maybe it was petty but you wanted to see if she would reach out first for once. 

Your Sunday came and went without a single message. 

You called your mom just to have someone to talk to. You loved your apartment but lately, the space felt too empty and cold, maybe you should go buy a plant and get emotionally attached to that instead, people were too unpredictable. 

Especially your person

~

The rest of your week was quiet and boring, you knew Nat would be busy but you didn’t bother spamming her with memes and messages like you usually would. You looked around your clean apartment and sighed, downing the rest of your coffee. You picked up your keys, needing a distraction, at least you could go grocery shopping.

Pt.10

A/n: And now we get to the angsttt :(

~~~

@marvelwomen-simp @cd-4848 @wandanatlov3r @rebeltombraider @ctrlamira @fxckmiup @aliherreraaa @natsxwife @la-douler-ne-finite-jamais @romanoffsgal @moistblobfish

#marvel #fanfiction #marvel fanfic #fanfic #marvel fanfiction #women of marvel #fluff #fluff fic #natasha romanoff #mcu fluff #natasha fanfic #natasha marvel #natasha romanov #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #upon a starry night writes #number neighbor story

[zeroxxlhero]

Mean Girl Headcannons

Warnings: Caste AU, modern universe, loosely based off of Mean Girls, reader is tall, enemies to enemies with benefits, mentions of sex, underage drinking, rich! bitch! Historia, delinquent! Reader, use of marijuana

Pairings: Historia Reiss x You

Fandom: Shingeki no Kyojin (Attack on Titan)

Mean girl Headcannons would include:

Historia immediately disliked you from the start. Because what do you mean this 6’4 tall bastard called Hitch a bitch to her face and walked off like she didn’t know who the fuck she was?

She could never catch you alone because you’re always suspended from fighting or skipping class so whenever you do come to school, she makes it her mission to make your time here complete shit.

Tries, miserably, and somehow ends up embarrassed but strangely turned on because she’s never had someone put their foot down and tell her off.

You two argue all the time. Every. Single. Day. Like, as soon as she sees your face, she goes to insulting you and you’re quick with the same treatment, not caring who her or her family was. The teachers have to pause the lesson and get you two calmed down, which takes at least 30 minutes. Mr. Ackerman has to put you in a separate class each day because he doesn’t want to hear any of it.

LOVES flaunting her body off to you because she knows you want her despite how much you say you don’t. Relishes the way you squirm and get embarrassed when you try to hide a boner because her skirt is too short or her tits were spilling from her shirt.

HATES when you flirt with girls. She absolutely loathes it. Because you were going to be hers and she would make sure it stays that way. Bullies the girls you’re talking to and sometimes even threaten them with blackmail.

Whenever you do get embarrassed by whatever she said, she makes it her mission to show everyone and turn you into the school’s laughing stock. You get pissed and end up fighting some random guy that tried picking on you, only getting yourself suspended.

A weirdo that somehow knows where you live. Also, know what type of snacks and clothes you like. Also pays close attention to your interests and hobbies. If you see anything that you like but if you can’t get it, don’t worry, she’ll get it for you. Tries to be lowkey about it but you don’t know anyone else that would willingly spend money on stuff like that. Plus, there was only one person you knew who had the luxury of doing so.

Subtly invites you to parties. She’ll get someone that knows someone to invite you and sometimes you come, sometimes you don’t. When you do, you’re drowning yourself in shots and more liquor than you can handle. And when that happens, you always end up in one of the Reiss guest bedrooms.

Hates people pointing out that she likes you. Will yell and scream on behalf of her defense but will tell them to “shut the fuck up” most of the time. Only tolerates it from her close friends. Anyone else and she’s having the whole school on their ass.

The only time you two can relax around each other is when you smoke a blunt or two together. Either it’s in complete silence or you’re mouthing off to each other. All the teachers know you two smoke marijuana but they don’t say anything for the sake of keeping their jobs.

NSFW:

God forbids if you ever do snap and decide to pounce on the blonde out of frustration.

She’s nowhere near ready because you’re so much taller than her and your cock was definitely too big, so she’s intimidated. Can really only take up to 4 inches, maybe 5 but you’re around 6

Tries to be a brat about who’s on top but ends up with her face down into the pillow and her ass up, whining because you’re stretching her out and it hurts so good.

Purposely riles you up to have you slam her against the wall and fuck her until she goes quiet. Always apologizes during it but never truly meaning it, no matter how sorry she sounds.

Brags about how good she’s able to suck dick but she’s always choking on yours. Can barely get in half before she’s gagging and has tears running down her eyes, her throat raw and aching when you finally finish. People always ask why her voice is so choppy the next day…

Loves having her ass slapped and being degraded. Will submit instantly.

But praising is another story. Call her pretty and the girl will literally melt and have her feeling like she’s on cloud 9.

Definitely a squirter. Embarrassed about it because she’s never done it with anyone but you. Doesn’t happen every time but it’s frequently.

Could care less where you cum, rather it be in her, on her ass, her tits, or her face, she doesn’t care. She loves it either way. And if something was to happen, she could just throw money at it to get rid of the problem.

Kinks: Bondage, Impact Play, Asphyxiation, Masochism, DIY porn, Public Sex, Humiliation

Overall, Historia is a little shit and likes to annoy you while being a submissive bottom.

#aot x you #snk x you #aot fandom #snk x reader #historia smut #historia x reader #attack on titan #historia aot #historia reiss x reader #historia #historia reiss

[sweetandgentlecreature]

Sweet Tooth

Author’s Note: Hope you’re hungry for a third helping of Somethin’ Sweet! This one’s my favorite so far, so let me know what you think. Don’t worry, the next one’s gonna bring the heat, so stay tuned. Enjoy! ❤️

Summary: Summertime in Texas isn’t for the faint of heart, but neither is Merrin. AKA: Sy needs a cold shower.

Pairing: Captain Syverson x Female OC 

Warnings: Adult language and suggestive situations. Two idiots in love.  I am an adult, and due to the nature of this content, all works created by me will be rated for those 18 years and older. Minors, DNI.

Merrin was melting. Sure, maybe some of it was more figurative than physical, but as a transplant from Coroado fighting to make it through her first Texan summer, she was almost positively dying. She learned quickly that, around here, air conditioning wasn’t a luxury; it was a necessity. The humidity rivaled even the most expensive conditioner in her arsenal, so leaving her hair down was out of the question. Her thighs stuck to every pickup truck bench seat, every plastic lawn chair, and every diner booth they came into contact with. She’d gotten pretty good at the ole peel-and-shimmy to wiggle her way out again, but there’s just no graceful way to do that on date night. Underboob sweat. Ass sweat. Eyebrow sweat? She didn’t even know that was a thing, until now. At work, she hid in the walk-in freezer as often as she could, and cussed every time the front door chimed with each new patron that walked in. 

Right on cue, when those stupid little bells rang again, Merrin sighed. She imagined ripping them down from their place above the door and pitching them clear out into the middle of the street, but only for a moment. “Gotta pay the bills,” she reminded herself, and closed the heavy door behind her again. Daydreaming in the ice vault would have to wait. 

Afternoons in the bakery were always slow. Stealing a quick glance at her reflection in the glass on the front of the oven, she dusted off the front of her apron and pushed through the swinging doors to get behind the counter. “Hello! How can I– Well, shit.”  

His laugh came from somewhere deep in his gut as he leaned against the bar beside the bakecase. 

“Well hello to you too, darlin’. Expectin’ somebody else? Must’a been waitin’ on yer other boyfriend, huh.” 

Sy crossed one ankle over the other and smiled. It was rare for him to get a day off, so today was a nice change of pace. The only problem was that he just couldn’t sit still. The yard needed mowing, the old fence at the edge of the property line needed mending, and the tree that had fallen on it needed split. By lunch time, he couldn’t bear to stay away any longer. After a quick shower and a shave (just a trim. Gotta keep his woman’s seat warm, ya know), he made his way to her. That cocky son of a bitch knew exactly what power he held over her, coming in here looking like that, and he played it to his advantage every single time. Damn him.

Merrin rolled her eyes at him and laughed. Clayton’s always been nothing but trouble, yet he seemed especially mischievous this afternoon. The poor bastard never did have a very good poker face. 

“You’re not my boyfriend, Sy. You haven’t even been a boy in a very long time.” 

If the saying goes “not to toot his own horn,” Clayton Syverson had a train whistle. Back in the day, his reputation with the ladies preceded him. Sy was just as perplexed as he was fascinated by Merrin. He’d never met a woman quite like her. She had a good head on her shoulders, and the kindest heart he’d ever seen. Nobody was a stranger for long, at least in her eyes. So fuckin’ smart, smarter than he’d ever be, with both book smarts and common sense to boot. Effortlessly funny in a way that almost made him jealous. Soft in all the right places, both physically and emotionally. Feminine, yet not too delicate. And that body. Jesus Christ. The things he’d do to her, if ever given the chance…

But that’s the thing about Merrin. She knew it just as well as he did. From the moment they met, she’d been keeping him at arm’s length. Sure, the attraction was there, as was the chemistry. Sy’s a fuckin’ dreamboat, and she’d have to be blind not to see that. Merrin’s not afraid of much, but the uncertainty of where he’ll be in just two month’s time…She wasn’t sure if she could cope with that. So instead of opening herself up to him, instead of giving in and just enjoying what time they did have together, Merrin had decided that they could just be friends. Just friends. That was reasonable enough to ask, wasn’t it?  Men and women could be just friends, and only friends…couldn’t they? According to Sy, it seemed that just wasn’t the case. Maybe it was unfounded optimism, or just plain stupidity. Maybe it was just that he wouldn’t hear it. Either way, Sy wasn’t ready to give up on her yet. What she hadn’t anticipated, though, was just how ridiculously stubborn Sy could be. Stubborn as a fuckin’ mule, and Merrin was the one stuck shoveling shit. 

“Boyfriend? Did I say boyfriend? I’m sorry, sugar. What I meant to say was boy-friend. Ya know…a friend that’s a boy.” Crossing his arms over his broad chest, he gave her a playful wink. “A man-friend, if ya’d like.”

“You’re full of it today, aren’t ya, Big Guy?”

She saw it as clear as day, the way her words got the wheels turning behind that darkening gaze of his. No, but you could be. How dare he, the sinful fuck. The thought of being full of something made Merrin’s face burn a bright shade of embarrassed pink, and she turned quickly to distract herself by pretending to fold takeout boxes instead. “What do you want, Sy?”

“Well, see’s as yer not too busy, I was hopin’ ta steal ya away fer a bit. Got somethin’ ta show ya.” Sy looked down at his nailbeds as he spoke and picked at his cuticles. When he met her eyes again, he grinned. “That’s the thing ‘bout bein’ yer own boss, right? Get ta’ make yer own hours.” 

It was a tempting thought, closing up shop and disappearing for a little while. She hadn’t seen a customer in the last two hours, so…what’s the hurt in closing a little early? He had her wrapped around his finger, and she knew it. Defeated, she sighed and shelved the rest of the boxes. 

“Alright. Let me go close up in the back, and I’ll meet you ‘round front.” 

Sy felt victorious, as he watched her loosen the tie from around her waist and hung the apron on a hook by the door. Excited fingers drummed on the countertop in a quick victory dance. He smiled and fished the keys from the pocket of his jeans. “You got it, doll. Take yer time.” 

__

They rode together in the pickup with the windows rolled down, letting the radio compete with the roar of the wind as paved highway turned into an old gravel road. Merrin hadn’t made it out quite this far before, so she had no clue as to where he was taking her. Could’ve been to some of his old stomping grounds. Could’ve been out to the woods to hide her body, never to be found again. There was no way to tell the difference. Gravel let way for a dirt path a little further down the road, and soon enough, Sy was pulling off down a hill and into a grass lot filled with cars. He parked in an empty spot between two other trucks and turned off the ignition. Live music echoed down through the open field, as did the sounds of laughter and jovial excitement.

“I didn’t know the fair was in town!” 

Merrin felt lighter than air. She hadn’t been to a carnival since she was a kid. The smells of deep-fried-everything wafted in through her window and made her stomach growl. If there was one thing that Texas was good at, it was food. Sy cracked a smile and grabbed his wallet from the dash, stuffing it away into the back pocket of his faded Wranglers for safe keeping. 

“Tonight’s on me, babydoll. Whatever ya want, alright?” 

He hopped out of the truck and came around to the other side to help her down again. Merrin landed on her feet with a soft little grunt. She wasn’t quite built to climb in and out of that beast with grace. Dusting away a spattering of flour from her tight jeans, she almost wished she’d had the chance to go home and change. She did her best with what she had, all hulled up in the bathroom in the back of the shop, huddled over a hand mirror with a hairbrush and some mascara from the bottom of her purse. The thought made her shake her head. Jesus, Mer. It’s not a date. Right?

__

Sy led her through the maze of vehicles and off to the ticket booth.  Merrin wasn’t much for roller coasters or anything too steep, so they settled for the bumper cars and some carnival games instead. When he got tired of her kicking his ass, which was really just him letting her win, it was time to eat. Everything looked so good, and there was plenty to choose from, so they each got a little bit of it all to share. Sitting across from one another at an empty picnic table, Merrin groaned as she took a bite from a barbecued rib. When she looked up from her plate, Sy had stopped altogether. His mouth hung open just a bit and his eyes were wide. It made her giggle and blush, and she covered her mouth with the back of her hand as she chewed. “What? Is there something on my face?” 

Sy grinned as he sat back to watch her. He felt a little silly, bein’ so jealous of a piece of meat. He’d do anything to make her eyes roll to the back of her head like that. Down, boy, he scolded himself. Don’t wanna spook her. Merrin read him like a book, shook her head and scoffed in distaste. She punctuated it with a kick to the shin from beneath the table. “Perv.”

He gasped, feigning surprise, and sat up a little straighter. The napkin that was tucked so carefully into the collar of his t-shirt fell into his lap. “What was that for?!” Sy wiped his hands down the front of his pants and sucked his teeth at her. “Ain’t no way ta’ be treatin’ the man who bought you those ribs.” 

“Is that so?” Merrin arched a perfect brow and accepted his jest as a challenge. If he wanted to be a pain in the ass about it, then so be it. Two could play at that game. She let her eyes flutter closed and let another soft little moan of pleasure escape from deep within. Licking her parted lips, Merrin groaned as she took another bite. She laid it on thick, writhing around in her seat as she polished off the rest of the meat from the bone, then licked her fingers clean, one by one. By the time she was finished putting on a show, she looked up at him again and chuckled. His face was beet red, from the tops of his ears and clear down his neck. A vein stuck out at his temple. He was fighting for his life, and she grinned as she watched him squirm. “Thank you, baby. They were great.”

Sy groaned lowly. He let out a deep breath as he decompressed, ragged and strained. If that’s how she acted over some smoked meat, he couldn’t wait to watch her unravel over some homemade brisket, some cheap wine, and a good, hard dicking. Until then, he’s a dead man walking.

“Lord have mercy.”

__

The horizon was painted in shades of pink and orange as the last few rays of light shone against the clouds. A cool breeze blew through the lowlands of the fairgrounds and sent the heat of the day dissipating along with the sun. Merrin and Sy sat on the tailgate of the tuck and watched as the fireflies dipped and danced through the treeline. Merrin let her feet swing freely from where they hung off of the end of the bed, humming softly to the band as they played. Sy was stretched out behind her, belly full and eyes getting heavy as he reclined back to rest against his elbows. Though she couldn’t see him, Merrin could feel the way his gaze lingered on her. Nice and slow, as if to memorize every curve and curl, every thread in her work shirt and every seam in her jeans. Goosebumps spread down her arms and a chill ran down her spine. Every nerve in her body was ablaze for him, until she just couldn’t take it anymore. There was no turning back now. She was too far gone.

“Damnit, Clay.”

In an instant, she was on him, grabbing a fistful of that faded Metallica shirt and tugging him into her. Sy let out a grunt of surprise, but quickly fell into line. He tasted sweet, like the banana split they’d shared just moments before, like the sticky chocolate syrup and whipped cream, but with a hint of something deeper. Something strong and addictive. Something that had her coming back for more. She wanted to savor this moment, to bottle it up, save it for a rainy day, but she just couldn’t make herself stop. She kissed him, and he kissed her, and she kissed him again until the burn for breath broke their embrace. 

Her hands trembled when she finally let him go, chest heaving and achy as she fought for each breath of fresh air. That’s when she saw it. That beautiful little speckle of brown hidden amongst the ocean of blue in his eye. Merrin couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed it before. Visions of little curly headed babies running around in the yard raced through her mind. They’d have her nose, her lips and sweet little smile, but it was their eyes that had her attention. They were as deep and as vast as the eastern Texas sky, each with their own constellations of honey brown mixed in. They were perfect in every way. They were his. 

Merrin cleared her throat before she spoke again. “White flag. I surrender.” She could feel the rumble of laughter in his chest beneath her, as he reached up to sweep away a loose strand of hair from her face and tuck it behind her ear. 

“Oh, darlin,” Sy smirked. “You never stood a chance.”

__

Taglist: please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!

@geralts-yenn @peyton-warren @kingliam2019 @uunotheangel @deandoesthingstome @drewharrisonwriter @foxyjwls007 @melissareadsstuff @totalwool @summersong69 @caramariehurst @niallhorwen @warriormirkwood @summersong69 @mairablue @omgkatinka @evansabove1981

#henry cavill #captain syverson #henry cavill fanfiction #captain syverson fanfiction #henry cavill characters #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill one shot #captain syverson fic #captain syverson fluff #henry cavill smut #captain syverson smut #syverson fluff #syverson fanfiction

[willsdreamgirl]

off to the races — tommy shelby x reader ⋆｡˚

tommy x fem!reader

tommy and you are in rival gangs, and the peaky blinders interfere in your business. will you be able to let it rest? or will you give tommy the opportunity to realise his feelings for you through your conflicts with each other?

cw: mentions of guns, knives, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, smut if you squint, arthur is an ass

a/n: you guys loved the first tommy fic i wrote, so here’s another one!! couldn’t do too much hardcore enemies to lovers bc i’m a big ol softie. anywho, don’t be a ghost reader and enjoy!! 💌

word count: 3.2k

“fuckin’ peaky scum.” “what’s up, johnny?” you asked quizzically. “what’s up? what’s fucking UP? look at this shit.” you leaned over his shoulder to find your crates of whiskey disguised as hardware empty. you sighed knowingly. “can’t even enter bloody small heath without having our shit raided.” “tell me about it.” johnny laughed humourlessly.

you sat in your office, making sure the books were in order. you listened to the silent ticking of the clock. but your peace didn’t last long. “they did it again, eh?!” an angry max entered your office. you took your glasses off and put down your pen. “maximillian, if you must enter my office, do not enter it screaming maybe?” your words fell on deaf ears, max already seemed blinded by rage. “honest to god, i’ll cut every single one of those bastards!” he yelled yet again. you stood up from your chair, clearing your throat. “no need for that, max boy.” “what? what the fuck do you mea-” “i’ve arranged a meeting with the big man.” “who? tommy fuckin’ shelby?” you threw on your coat and made your way to the exit. “yes max, tommy fuckin’ shelby.”

tommy shelby was, at this point, the most powerful man in all of small heath. every government official was on his payroll and he practically had the coppers eating out of his hand. after the sabini incident, rarely anyone decided to fuck with the peaky blinders. you’d known tommy in school, you were even friends with him, but that was before your parents decided small heath was no place for a growing lady and decided to move far away from small heath, far away from tommy. but they underestimated how much spending time with tommy’s family had affected you. your parents were good people, you knew that. tommy’s family got involved in all sorts of illegal shit but made tenfold the money yours made. eventually, you realized that the shelby way was the only way you could create wealth in dirty, old birmingham. no one takes a 13 year old girl seriously when she says she wants to start a gang. so you had to start taking extreme measures. stealing, lying and gambling, to name a few. but your weakness was also your strength. you were a woman. and men underestimated women. no one ever believed you to be a threat, so they let down their guards around you. (it usually only took a glass or two of whiskey anyway) when they were vulnerable, that’s when you struck. over time, you became feared in your city, the girl who fools the men. and here you were 12 years later, your gang, the bishop ryders, being the peaky blinders’ rival gang. now, you were open to forming an alliance with them, reminiscing your time with the shelby family, but you learnt fairly quickly that the tommy you knew before the war was not the tommy that you came to know after. he was bitter, and vengeful, and after an explosion at one of your warehouses where four of your men had died, the bishop ryders and peaky blinders became sworn enemies.

you entered small heath, coppers surrounding the car. you muttered under your breath, “must’ve recognized the damn license plate.” you stepped out of the car. “mornin’ coppers, what can i do for you today?” you said, a fake smile plastered across your face. one of them stepped close enough to you that you could smell his breath. they were trying to intimidate you, of course. “who the fuck are you here to see, eh? such a pretty lady shouldn’t be in these parts of birmingham.” he spoke, a disgustingly devilish glint in his eyes. you spat on the ground next to him and knee’d him in the crotch and you yelled. “i’m here to see your king, now FUCK OFF.” the coppers seemed to back away, the guy you kicked now crouched down in the middle of the road. you got back in your car and resumed driving.

you saw a building with a big sign on it. ‘shelby company limited’, it read. tommy was becoming a pompous arse, you thought. you walked in and took a moment to look around. they had definitely upgraded since the last time you were here. the woman at the desk spoke to you. “oi, do you have an appointment?” you scoffed, a secretary, how… civilized. “who might you be?” “i’m lizzie, mr. shelby’s secretary.” she spoke, proudly. you gasped in faux amusement. “oh! so can you tell your precious mr. shelby that y/n’s here to see him?” she rolled her eyes at your sarcasm. “can’t let random fucking people in without appointments. besides, he’s not here anyway.”

after a little probing, you found out that tommy was in his new mansion, grieving over the death of his wife. when did he get married? you went over to his house, pushing aside butlers and maids to get to his office. you scoffed, for what seemed like the hundredth time today, he really was the king of small heath, eh? you walked in, the sound of your hand on the wood echoing in the big office. he motioned for you to leave without even looking up. “fuck off.” he muttered in that deep voice of his. you cleared your throat so he’d look up. his hand stopped writing for a moment, but resumed writing when he didn’t get a reply from you. you sighed, realising you’d have to vocalize yourself. you took big, exaggerated steps towards his desk. “tommy bloody shelby, sulking in his big house bought with his huge stack of cash. never thought i’d see the day.” you said mockingly. he sighed when he recognized the voice. he looked up, setting the pen down. he spoke, resting his elbows on his desk. “what the fuck do you want?” you could taste the venom in his voice. you laughed dryly. “i should be the one asking you that.” tommy’s eyebrows furrowed. “what are you fucking talking about?” you took a deep breath, trying to keep your composure. the bloody nerve of this man. “don’t fucking play stupid with me, tommy. you don’t think i see how your men are raiding my whiskey crates every fucking day?” he looked ever more confused but spoke slowly, almost cautiously. “what do you mean ‘my men’?” “i mean your bloody men, tommy! fucking peaky blinders!” “my men did no such thing, i assure you. they only do what i order them to. and i have no reason to search or raid your crates.” you scoffed at him and mimicked the way his elbows were on the desk. “now, either you’re not very good at giving orders, or you don’t know what the fuck’s going on within your own organisation. whatever the fuck it is, you better fix it, and you better fix it fast tommy.” he looked at you in disbelief. “tommy shelby doesn’t take orders from anyone, especially not from a rival gang.” “i didn’t think tommy shelby sulked over a girl either, but here we are, eh? now pour me a fucking whiskey.” he got up, and poured you a glass. he looked down into your eyes as your hands brushed when he handed you the glass.

he downed the whiskey in one sip and immediately phoned the small heath shelby co. ltd. office. michael picked up the phone. “hello, tommy?” “tell polly, arthur and john bring their arses here in the next hour. family meeting.” 20 minutes later, the entire shelby family had assembled in tommy’s office. arthur was the first to speak. “what the fuck’s she doing here?” he motioned at you. “i have unnecessary business to deal with because of you fucks.” john stepped closer to you, sizing you up. “you don’t scare me, shelby. fuck off.” he looked at tommy in disbelief. “get off her, john.” tommy replied. “right, so one of you gave our men the order to raid every bishop ryder crate that comes into town. it sure as fuck wasn’t me, so who was it?” everyone looked at each other in confusion, except john and arthur. “you two. you did it, eh?” you looked at them. “we’re not tommy’s fucking guard dogs! we’re equal shareholders of the bloody company and we will do whatever the fuck we see fit!” john yelled. tommy slammed his fist on the table. “god fucking damn it! legitimate business is priority! when i say something there’s a fucking reason! when i tell you to do something, you fucking do it!” even though you’d known tommy for years, this rage was unfamiliar to you. you spoke assertively. “i have no idea how i got roped into this family drama, but it’s affecting my business. i will not have you fucking cunts pull this shit again. you try and i will cut each and every one of you.” you gave tommy a look that told him you meant every word of what you said, and with that, you left.

the next day, you were in your office, going over important paperwork. that’s when you heard commotion outside. you heard fighting, and then you heard a voice. arthur bloody shelby. he stormed in your office, going around your desk. you stood up. “what the fuck do you want, arthur?” he put his hand around your throat and slammed you against the wall. you had a tight grip around his wrist, trying to push him away. you struggled to speak. “insult the peaky blinders one more time and i’ll fucking kill ya.” when you looked in his eyes, you didn’t see arthur. you saw someone completely different. you reached into your coat pocket to pull out a gun, but arthur already had one next to your head. he pulled the trigger, the bullet grazing your ear and embedding itself into the wall. “next time, it’ll be your head, not the wall.” some of your security heard your conflict with arthur and barged into the office and pulled guns on him. arthur, in his rage, shot two of your men on sight. arthur let you go, and stormed out of your office. you’d had enough. enough disrespect. as if it wasn’t hard being a woman and running a gang in birmingham.

you went to speak to tommy. he was in his office this time, and you walked in to find lizzie typing something. “where is he?” you asked frantically. “not you again. like i said, you need to make an appointme-” “where. the FUCK IS TOMMY?” you yelled in her face. she looked at you for a moment, then spoke. “mr. shelby’s in the middle of a meeting.” “fuck his damn meeting.” you barged into his office, to find some copper sitting in front of him. you snapped your fingers to get his attention, even though you already had it. “we. need. to. talk.” is all you said. “get out.” he spoke, and you crossed your arms. the copper sitting in front of him looked at you, waiting for you to leave. “i was talking to you, dimwit. leave.” he said, pointing to the copper this time. he nodded and left quickly. “what brings you here, mis-” “your rabid dog of a brother shot at me yesterday and killed two of my men, in my office, in front of me.” you spoke, oddly calm. “what.” tommy was truly at a loss for words. “yeah. anyway, you’ll be at the epsom derby this year right? i’m gonna kill you tommy. it’ll be fun.” you said, laughing sarcastically. before he had a a chance to respond, you left his office. tommy was infuriated. not only had he lost his wife, he had gained a new enemy who now wanted to kill him, and his brothers couldn’t step up and do tommy’s job for two fucking days.

epsom rolled around, and you gathered all your men, and other men you borrowed from allies. you knew small heath men, so, you knew tommy’s men. you knew their vices: whores, whiskey and cocaine. you brought prostitutes with you, who had several bottles of alcohol and vials of ‘the snow’ on them, and had your men stationed everywhere. the plan was, distract tommy’s men, get him alone with you, and kill him.

as soon as the race started, you saw your plan unfold. all of tommy’s men were either fighting with yours, drunk and high in a corner somewhere or fucking a whore. you scoffed as you remembered aunt pol’s words. men and their cocks never cease to amaze me. truth be told, you missed that family. you missed going with the shelby brothers to steal whiskey from a pub as kids, and you missed aunt pol yelling at the boys, telling you how they were bad influences. and you missed tommy. your tommy. the tommy that would sit with you, talk to you for hours, the one you could laugh with endlessly. and here you were, plotting to kill him. how did it all get so fucked up?

while your men were distracted, you hunted tommy down. he was in the stables, alone, where they kept the racehorses. he turned around as he heard the familiar sound of a cocking gun. he raised his hands. “i’m unarmed.” you walked closer to him, gun still pointing to his forehead. “you and your stupid fucking gang have been doing so much damage to everything i’ve built all along. you got handed this tommy, you don’t know what it’s fucking like to build this from the ground up with your own hands.” you said, your hand on his shoulder. “someone has to pay, eh?” he said, take the hint and getting on his knees. you walked around him so that his back was facing you. you inhaled deeply. “ready?” you said. “give a man one last smoke?” he asked. “fine.” you turned around as he lit a cigarette. “this is the end of the line, eh? i was in this same position a year ago, maybe this is how it’s meant to be. tell arthur and john to stop fucking shit up, tell pol to take care of the boys, tell ada i love her and karl, and y/n? check in on charlie every once in a while? i don’t want him to feel like a lonely orphan, alright?” tommy spoke sombrely. you felt memories rushing back, memories of you and the boys playing with guns, getting drunk. you took a deep breath as you held back tears. tommy smiled when he felt the cold metal hit the back of his head. “don’t go soft on me now, love?” he spoke, you could hear the smile in his voice. your hand trembled as you put your finger on the trigger.

you pulled the trigger, and the bullet hit a hay bale somewhere in the corner. tommy exhaled and opened his eyes slowly. you kicked the back of his shoe, your voice wavering. “get the fuck up.” he stood up, turning around to face you. you hugged him tightly. “can’t bring myself to kill you.” you spoke, your head buried in the crook of his neck. “shh, i know sweetheart. i know.” you two always had an inextricable bond, and without either of you saying anything, both of you understood what the other felt. tommy cupped your cheek with his hand. you felt tears rolling down your cheek, tommy wiping them away. you leaned into his touch. “i fucking hate you, tommy.” he looked at you with adoration. “i love you too, y/n. it’s always been you.”

*a year later*

tommy carried you to your shared bed. you gasped as you felt him leaving kisses down your neck. “tommy-” “welcome to the family, mrs. shelby.” he said, smiling when he heard you giggle. “tonight’s gonna be a long night, eh?” he said, smirking. you smirked back. “oh, i’m counting on it.” you heard abrupt knocking, and then finn’s voice. “uh, tommy? i’m sorry- but um, it’s the russians?” you both looked at each other and instantly got out of bed. he groaned as he put his pants on and wore his gun holster under his blazer. “can’t catch a fucking break. not even on my bloody wedding night.” you rolled your eyes at him, as you wore your own holster, loading your gun and cocking it. “who told you to do business with the fucking russians?” he walked over and kissed you passionately, your tongues fighting for dominance. eventually, you pulled away for air, both panting, his forehead resting against yours. he looked you in the eye. “ready?” “always.”

“welcome to the family, mrs. shelby.”

#cillian murphy smut #tommy shelby smut #thomas shelby smut #cillian murphy #tommy shelby x reader #cillian murphy x reader #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby headcanon #tommy shelby fluff #tommy shelby angst #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #thomas shelby fluff #thomas shelby angst #cillian fic #cillian smut #cillian series #cillian x y/n #cillian fluff #cillian x fem!reader #cillian x reader #cillian one shot #anna’s boys

[f10werfae]

Baby Name List

pairing: Cowboy!Chris x Girlfriend!Reader

summary: Chris finds out about Y/n’s baby name list, and wants to put some of them to good use ASAP (girlboss!reader) (emotional Chris)

Chris Masterlist, Full Masterlist, Library blog: @f10werfaes-cosy-collection

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated♥️

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Don’t you jus’ look fuckin’ adorable pumpkin” Chris swooned bringing his two hands to his mouth and letting out a loud whistle, tossing his hard hat, with it skilfully landing on its holder. His hands came to settle on his belt buckle, his boots clanking against the wooden floor as he approached his girlfriend, who was in nothing but one of his red plaid shirts. “Well aren’t you home early honey” She smirked, her lips red with her usual lipstick.

“Cant stay away from my sweet pie from too long, ya know me” He chuckled settling onto the leather couch beside her, his arm settling around her shoulder and landing right atop her breast, with it barely covered by the clean fabric. “How was the ranch today bubby, wasn’t too hard on ya was it?” She giggled looking up at him, kissing up his neck as she felt his hand bounce her tit in his hand and squeezing it lightly.

Chris just shook his head, nuzzling his nose against her cheek, his overgrown beard just rubbing against her skin roughly just how she liked it. “Jus got a new shipment in from North Dakota-“

“DAKOTA- right hold on big man, gotta put that name on the list” She squealed wiggling in her seat, tucking herself closer into her man’s chest, “What list baby? a vacation list? Cause let me tell you what’s in North Dakota-“

“Not a vacation list bubby, look, it’s a baby name list” She smiled clearly proud of herself, tilting the screen to show him the array of names listed on her phone, each section divided into each gender and what ones were her top 10. To her this was normal behaviour, she always wanted to be a mother and she knew damn well that her own Cowboy Chris would be the one to fulfil that.

“A-a baby name list sugar?” He asked shocked, his breath catching in his throat as his arms tugged themselves tighter around the woman in his arms, a sense of warmth and relief erupting in his heart. “Mhm, and nope it’s not up for debate cowboy, cause I know damn well you’d name her daisy or something- Wait Daisy isn’t a bad name actually” She rambled vigorously typing on her phone once again,

“You’re doin this, for our babies? Like together?” He said softly stopping her hands, causing her eyes to furrow and look up at him, “Well course, i’m hardly planning to get impregnated by another man, don’t ya want kids with me?” She snarked turning to look at him, only to laugh when she found him dazed and dreamily looking at her.

Chris’ body shuddered and grew angry at the thought of some other bastard claiming his woman, but that feeling quickly faded away by his new revelation. She wanted babies with him. “Careful honey ya might start droolin” She smacked his face lightly, before leaning in and pressing her red lips against his pink ones, pulling away to see his cheeks flushed and his hands bringing her in for another hot smooch.

“Fuck yeah I want kids with you angel, want kids with you so bad, want the white house and the picket fence n’ all that horseshit. Jus’ didn’t realise ya wanted it with me too” He breathed out, his hand mindlessly still rubbing all over her naked torso, finding itself rubbing over her stomach which he now realised would house their future. “You can be so stupid some times” Y/n laughed kissing up his neck, her hands directing his back to her breast; she always loved him just touching her body at any point, it didn’t matter what he was doing.

In fact it was quite normal to see the usual stoic Cowboy giving his long-term girlfriend foot-rubs, kisses everywhere and hugs every single second, not exaggerating. “But we can’t name her Daisy, we named the new calf that a few days ago, can’t have my babygirl twinnin with a calf” Chris grinned picking up her phone, looking at the names himself, laughing to himself every time he’d see a Disney reference.

“Well if ya would hurry up we’d have probably used about 20 of the names already bub” She pouted snatching her phone back, “That a promise?” He raised his brow looking at her, a smirk on his face as he looked down to see her exposed pussy starting to glisten with her wetness; “I say we start with the names, Myla and Mason” He whispered looking at her eyes which we now wide accompanied by a giddy smile on her smudged red lips. “Give me twins then, cowboy” She taunted tugging on his chin to bring his lips to hers, her hand guiding his to her clenching hole, starting their own rodeo of madness.

“Pumpkin ya really want this with me don’t ya? Already dreamin of bringin the tiny things to the ranch n’ teachin’ them howta ride a horse” He chuckled into her neck, his fingers continuing their assault on her bud as she uncontrollably bucked her hips up to meet his fingers. “W-want it so bad Bub, need it” She sighed out feeling his fingers enter her snug hole, the zipper on his washed out jeans being pulled down as she noticed how much they had strained against the bulge of his shaft.

“Do- Do you want this with me Chris? Tell me now, before we bring a life into this” She said meeting his eyes, her lip between her teeth trying to hold back a moan; as much as she wanted a baby so desperately, she needed to know her baby would receive love from both its momma and daddy.

“I don’t know what else I could want more pumpkin” He smiled kissing the corner of her lips, his body stiffening once she released his cock from his underwear, its red bulb shining against the light. Her thumb ran over his slit before her hands wrapped themselves around his cock, fisting it slowly and passionately; their lips still locked lovingly. “I’m not knockin’ you up on the couch baby, no way in hell, we doin’ this the proper way” Hesitatingly he pulled his lips away from hers, his lips tingling and already aching to be back on hers; in seconds he had picked her up by her thighs, giggles leaving her as she held on by his biceps.

He held her close on the bed, letting her straddle his lap whilst she cuddled into him, their bodies connected as one; his lips attached to her neck leaving behind bites of passion and ecstasy. “G’damn I love you so much baby, I-i’m not gonna last much longer honey” He breathed out against her neck, his hands splayed on her back to keep her against him at all times, their bodies providing each other heat.

“M-me too bubby, m’so close, can feel it right here to here” She whimpered pointing from her heart right to her wet centre, her lips crashing onto his swollen ones, their tongues meeting causing both their chins to become wet with each other’s saliva; a usual occurrence in this household. “I-I’m close, cum with me bubby , please” She gasped out holding onto his shoulders as she bounced faster on his cock, his hips thrusting up to meet hers.

“Don’t worry pumpkin, m’right here, on three alright? 1, 2 ,3-“

———

“If you’re not pregnant by now, then that is a miracle in itself” Chris sighed moving some of her hair to behind her shoulder, her smile sweet and lazy as she just looked up at him as if he was some sort of treat. “I love you bubba, too much even” She whispered tracing a finger down his nose before booping the tip of it, giggling when he bit onto it playfully and wouldn’t let it go.

“You have my whole heart, but I still don’t think it’s enough” He whispered back nuzzling their noses together, his arms still enclosing their bodies together, her pussy clenching around his softened shaft every so often.

———

Taglist tags (not accepting more, please use my library blog instead): @pandaxnienke @patzammit @thereisa8ella @mrspeacem1nusone @evanstanwhore @itsaylayay1213 @kimhtoo17 @chrisevansdaughter @vrittivsanghavi @dumb-fawkin-bitch @bxdbxtxh15 @madebylilly @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @royalwriteroftheuniverse @fdl305 @mirikusashes @marvelgurl @xoxokiaraaxoxo @caps-shield1918 @uwiuwi @stormcloudss @adoreyouusugar @imboredat2am @cevansgurl @girl-of-multi-fandoms @meetmeatyourworst @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @nikkitc0703 @mischiefsemimanaged @oliviah-25 @s-void @aerangi @roofwitty779 @ravenhood2792 @feltonswifesworld87 @alina02 @bookfrog242 @alexxavicry @mdpplgtz03 @lastwandastan @angelmather1 @bval-1 @stuckysgirl27 @wintasssoldier @daddymack01 @keiva1000 @acornacre @thebaileybugle

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x girlfriend!reader #dad chris evans #chris evans fluff #chris evans rpf #chris evans fandom #cowboy!chris evans #chris evans one shot #chris evans x you

[itsthedoodle]

Luckiest Male Alive

Summary: After the birth of his daughter, Cassian reminisces over the lucky moments in his life.

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: none

Read on AO3

@cassianappreciationweek

Day Two: Gentle

Cassian could count his lucky moments on one hand. 

His father had raped his mother, so his start in life had been less than ideal. Ripped away from her at a young age, he’d had to fend for himself—survival of the fittest was the life for bastards in the Illyrian camps, kill or be killed. So Cassian had taken care of earning the clothes on his back, making sure people knew he was not to be messed with, and then he had met his brothers. That was the first time he considered himself lucky. 

They’d conquered Ramiel together, dropped on opposite sides of it with no powers or weapons to aid them other than what they made for themselves on the go. Still, they’d found each other, and they’d mastered the sacred peak at the same time, inseparable and invincible together. 

They’d been sent to war, separated from each other because their high lord feared their combined powers. During the seven years the war lasted, Cassian had dreaded every casualties list, fearing he would read their names. Every time he hadn’t, and when the war had ended and they’d all made it out alive, he had considered himself lucky again. 

He’d been aware that things didn’t come easy to bastards like him, so he had worked hard for every single thing he had achieved, partly because he had drive, but also because he’d always held out hope he’d one day be accepted by the Illyrians, seen as more than just a bastard. He’d expected resistance when Rhys made him general, and while he’d found none, he knew better than to read into it. Acceptance was not something he had, but Illyrians respected genuine power and strength, and that was something no one could deny he had. 

Still, Cassian had always been a bastard, and he’d owned it so no one could use it against him. But it had always bothered him, the festering root of all his insecurities, which he hid so well behind a veil of sarcasm and playfulness that only those he let get close knew what truly lay in his heart. 

He had fought against the love he had for his brother when Rhys had been trapped under the mountain, and had nearly lost it by the end of the longest fifty years of his life, when Feyre had freed Rhys and the rest of Prythian. When Rhys had come back, Cassian had considered himself lucky for the single fact that his brother had come back alive. He had quickly learned that Rhys had returned half broken, had hidden it behind the same façade Cassian himself had used his whole life, and had gotten back to work as if nothing had happened. So Cassian hadn’t forced him to talk about it and had stood on the sidelines as Feyre slowly brought Rhys back to life. 

Feyre was another person Cassian considered himself lucky to know, not just because what meeting her represented for him personally, but because he saw himself in her. Forced to fend for herself at a young age, Feyre had known desperation and hunger, just like he had. They had become fast friends, and she was someone he could talk freely to, more so than the rest of his family, simply because she knew. He considered himself lucky to know her, not just because of what she meant to his brother, or the fact that she was his High Lady, but because through Feyre, he had met the one person that had made him feel  beyond lucky. 

Nesta had been another less than stellar start. She had been volatile and angry, with words able to cut deeper than a knife, and more often than not he had been on the receiving end of that viciousness. He’d taken one look at her, however, and had fallen in love. He'd suspected she was his mate from the beginning, but Nesta hadn’t been ready for the truth so he had kept his suspicions to himself. He had known from the start that winning her over would be a hard, long battle, one he’d been more than willing to fight. He’d known she wouldn’t make it easy for him but he’d fought, and when it had looked like she was finally warming up to him, when he’d been on the verge of death, he had poured his heart out to her on the battlefield. 

Everything after that had been a giant mess, a dark tunnel with no end in sight. Watching her waste away day by day, refuse help, and throw herself in the path of destruction had been the hardest thing to witness. He’d forced himself to keep out of it until he had no longer been able to, and when she’d finally been ready, Nesta had gotten back up all on her own.

It hadn’t been thanks to her friends, though they’d helped. It certainly hadn’t been thanks to his family, he could admit that. It hadn’t been because of him either, though he’d have handed the universe over on a silver platter to help her. Nesta’s road to self discovery had been because of her, her hard work, and relentless drive. That, he knew, they shared. 

It was her whisper that brought him out of his thoughts, her voice so soft and loving he could feel his heart expanding in his chest. He looked at her, as beautiful as the day he had met her, as confident and resilient, if not more. 

“I can take over, you know that, don’t you?” he asked, one eyebrow raised, trying to keep a straight face lest she thought he was joking. He could see the exhaustion on her face, but he could also see the Archeron stubbornness, the unwillingness to ask for help. 

“I know,” she said, giving him the kind of soft smile she reserved just for him. “I’m just, you know… scared somehow. Like-” she gestured vaguely with one hand. 

“Like you’ll blink and she’ll disappear into thin air?” 

“Yeah. Exactly like that.”

Cassian took a seat on the bed next to her and she carefully inched closer. He wrapped one arm around her shoulders, and she positioned herself so that her back was resting against his side. 

“Can you believe we made her?”

No, Cassian almost said. I can’t believe we did. 

After they’d been mated in a ceremony which, thanks to a very grateful Rhys, had been extremely lavish, Cassian and Nesta had thrown themselves into reviving the Valkyries. They had, together with Gwyn, Emerie, and Az, trained new recruits, mostly made up of priestesses that had braved the outside world again and any Illyrian females that had wanted to join. That had been another thing for which Cassian felt particularly lucky. 

Devlon and the rest of the Illyrians had been forced, albeit begrudgingly, to accept the fact that females were just as good (if not better, in Cassian’s completely unbiased opinion) at fighting as males were. Rhys liked to tease Nesta that she had worked her “witch magic”, and the Illyrians hadn’t had any choice but to accept if they didn’t want to run the risk of her being hexed. The Illyrian females had laughed themselves hoarse when they’d realized she was no witch and had no magic, and had made sure to keep it to themselves. Thus, Nesta had become the most feared female to an entire camp of Illyrians. 

Azriel had cracked a big smile at that. 

They had both put in a lot of hard work, and after a few years they’d had a solid Valkyrie unit. The day they’d reached one hundred of them, Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie had all cried tears of joy, and Cassian had been so proud. 

A few months after that, lying in bed sweaty and spent, Nesta had told him she was ready. He had understood right away what she meant, and they’d eagerly gotten to work. 

Now, half-sitting in bed, Nesta curled up against him, Cassian looked down at their infant daughter. Aoife had been alive for exactly one week and there wasn’t a single soul she didn’t already have wrapped around her tiny finger. Elain and Feyre had lost it, squealing in delight when they learned Nesta was having a girl, Gwyn, Emerie, Mor, and Rhys had cried, Amren had cracked a smile, and Az had clapped his back, telling him he couldn’t imagine Cassian as a father to anything but a daughter. 

Cassian himself had simply never thought he’d be here, with a mate and a daughter, had never considered himself good enough for it. He’d been a nervous wreck the entire pregnancy, hiding it from Nesta as well as he could. Madja had told them the baby had wings and, while it wouldn’t have mattered to him if she hadn’t, he had still felt an indescribable amount of joy at learning their daughter would get to experience the freedom of flight. 

The moment Aoife was born had been one he would never forget in a million lifetimes. His heart felt like it resided in both his own body and the small infant in her mother’s arms, his entire being attuned to her breathing and heartbeat. He had cried from the sheer force of love that filled his heart, and he had thanked the Mother for the blessing. 

He snapped out of his thoughts again and found Nesta looking up at him. “You’re thinking too hard.”

Dropping a kiss to her forehead, he smiled. “Sorry. I still haven’t wrapped my head around it to be honest.”

Nesta was looking at him in that way of hers that left him feeling utterly naked and exposed, that brought all his walls crashing down. It was too soon to tell, but he prayed day and night that their daughter had Nesta’s eyes. 

“I’m suddenly feeling very tired,” she said. He eagerly took over, Nesta transferring Aoife to his waiting arms. “Can you wake me up in an hour so I can feed her?”

He was glad for all the practice he had gotten holding Nyx. The old him would have pissed himself at the thought of holding a baby. The new, fun uncle version of him had thanked Rhys and Feyre for letting him use their son as a test subject. 

That had earned him a glare from Feyre. 

He nodded, waiting until Nesta was fully lying in bed. “Rest,” he said, pulling the covers over her, and dropping a kiss on her forehead. “We’ll be fine.”

Closing the door behind him, he headed to Aoife’s bedroom, the House turning the lights on and preparing her a bath. He mentally calculated the time since her last feeding, muttered a sorry to the House for doubting it and, deeming it safe, he washed his daughter, changed her into a fresh set of clothes, then sat on the reclining chair with her in his arms. 

She was so small and vulnerable, yet so quiet in his arms, as if she felt safe. 

Lord of Bloodshed. He snorted. More like Lord of Diapers these days. He wasn’t remotely bothered by it, however. This was the happiest he’d ever been. 

“You know, I hope you’ll end up taking after your mother. She’s beautiful, and perfect, and loves fiercely. She’s brave, and she is strong, and she really won’t take anyone’s shit.”

The lights flickered, the House scolding him for using that language in front of the baby. 

“Lighten up, she doesn’t understand,” he said, and the lights flickered again. 

Aoife yawned and he nearly melted at the sight of it. “I can’t wait to teach you how to fly. You’re going to love it. There’s just something about the freedom of it that makes you feel invincible, like there is nothing you couldn’t do. When you’re old enough, you can join the Valkyries, if you want to. Or you can go into politics. Or you can paint, like Feyre, or grow beautiful gardens like Elain. You could end up loving dancing like your mother. Or you could end up doing none of those things and doing something else, something purely you. I hope your whole life ends up being a big, beautiful dance. I’ll make sure there’s never a day where the sun doesn’t shine for you, I swear it.”

Aoife’s eyes closed softly, her breathing evening out. 

“You’ll always feel loved, and appreciated, and have our support in anything you choose to do. There will never be a day I won’t tell you how much I love you, and how much you and your mother mean to me. You’ll have the freedom to be whoever you want to be, because you’re you, and you’re special, and you can do anything you set your mind to. And I’ll always hold your hand every step of the way.”

He kissed the top of her head, the hair there impossibly soft, her baby scent something he would never tire of. 

Yes, he could count his lucky moments in single digits. But this, right here. This was the happiest he’d ever been. 

He was the luckiest male alive. 

#cassianappreciationweek2023 #cassian #with a touch of nesta #girl dad cassian #because thats by favorite headcannon #and we all know cassian was born to be a girl dad #cassian fanfic #nessian fanfic #cassian x nesta #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #post acosf #several years have passed #nesta archeron

[celestoria]

R U Mine?

Pairing: Yandere!Bodyguard!Xiao x Idol!fem!reader

Summary: A scandal brought an uproar to your career. Though Xiao trusts you are faithful to him as he is loyal to you, doubt and anxiety plagued him. He wants you to know that even in your dream, you are his, and his only.

Tag: yandere, Idol AU, consensual somnophilia, penetration

Do not interact if you are 16 and under (17+)

Ever since the tabloids rumored you have been dating a famous actor, which is completely false, the paparazzi have been following you like a pack of wolves hunting down their prey. So thirsty for the front page and so hungry for the next juiciest scoop.

If only you didn’t accept his offer to buy you a drink of coffee after bumping into each other, then maybe you wouldn’t have gotten yourself into this mess. Now you can’t even go outside of your house without meeting the bright flashing lights blinding you with every step you go.

Luckily, there was this one person who always tried to protect you amid this baseless drama. That was your faithful bodyguard, and your loving boyfriend, Xiao.

Everyone knew your brutish bodyguard who stuck loyally by your side throughout the years. Despite always being seen together almost everywhere, one suspected him of being your boyfriend. Maybe because you kept things way too professional around him when the eyes and ears of the public media constantly observed you like a hawk. What the media didn’t know is that Xiao would do anything for you. He might as well give you the world or burn it if you wish.

He stuck by you for so long that he knew every inch of your body and every detail of your personality like the back of his hand. You are not the type of person to cheat on him with a guy like that. Though that’s what he told himself, Xiao found you always coming home back from work late at night without him.

Anxiety rushed through him and the devil’s sinister voice filled his head with doubts. His mind was filled with Images of another man kissing the very same lips that he craves every single moment of his waking life.

He can’t let you slip away like that so easily.

There you were sleeping soundly next to him. Your hair was disheveled and your soft skin peeked through your thin lace negligee. How Xiao was thankful he gets to see you in such a vulnerable state.

Your uncomparable beauty is something only his eyes are allowed to see. No one is allowed to marvel at you, especially that bastard who thinks he can take you away like that.

The wooden frames creaked as Xiao shifted his weight to your side of the bed. He lifted your silk nightgown to find that you didn’t even wear anything underneath. It’s as if you were telling him you’ve been wanting him to pleasure you in your sleep.

He wondered what kind of scenarios you are having as you lay there. Are you dreaming of him the same you he’s thinking of you? Or is it someone else that’s in your mind?

Xiao will make sure he’s someone you’ll never forget and this is a night to remember.

Calloused fingers circled your clit and his other hand inserted two fingers inside of you. Your pussy immediately coated itself with your arousal. Even in your sleep, he can make you feel this good.

Quiet, hummed moans left your mouth as he pleasured you. Once he felt like you were loose enough for him to fit, Xiao slowly lifted your dress past your soft chests and undid his clothes before he discarded them on the floor.

He towered over you and his hands sensually slithered around your unconscious body. The man grabbed you by the thighs and placed you by his waist to give him unresisting access to your slick pussy.

His hard cock jammed itself in you. Feeling your warmth with this amount of intimacy was all he could ever ask for and he wanted to monopolize it. His greedy heart won’t allow him to share you with anyone else. Even if it's just a silly gossip people made for their own entertainment, he can’t take the risk of being such a fool.

His cock began to pull out of you only for him to go back inside. Deep, throaty groans and the sound of you two colliding multiple times filled the room. Slow and steady thrusts became rougher and his grip on your thighs became tighter.

You felt a strange sensation coming from below you and a harsh impact that rammed inside you over and over again. Your eyes slowly fluttered and it took you a moment for you to realize Xiao was fucking you mindlessly.

He was a sight to see especially with how the soft, dimmed lights brought a more intimate aura to him. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead his flushed contoured body glistened in the night because of the heated sex you were having. Veiny arms held you tight by your waist you swore you’ll get a bruise after this.

Your hands grabbed the white futon covers as you relished the blissful pleasure. Your back arched and your legs wrapped around Xiao’s waist to pull him closer to you.

Shock ran cold through Xiao’s body to see you awake in such a complicated situation yet he didn’t pause for a moment as the scene of you getting high by his throbbing cock only aroused him more. Xiao had his eyes closed most of the time to feel how tight your pussy is for him much better but he opened his eyelids to check that you were awake.

“You know you’re mine right?” He moaned as you two finally made eye contact. “I’m not letting another man steal you away from me.” Xiao picked up his pace, making your head roll back and moan louder.

Knowing you for years, he knew which places you loved being teased on and he knew the exact part of your neck where even the lightest kiss would make you melt. Without hesitation, Xiao dived down to lay on top of you and sucked on the exact spot that made you cry out his name like it was the only word you know.

His lips unlatched itself from your skin and a light purple hickey appeared. The breath of his moans brushed your body and his sound made its way to your ears, giving you an electric shock that ran down your spine.

“I’m so close, fuck,” he whispered in your ears. “Cum for me. You know you want to.”

True enough. You’ve been holding it for so long and the tight knot in your stomach was unbearable and all you could think about is a sweet release.

Xiao’s hips shuddered against you, his cock plunged deep inside you one last time and thick semen filled up inside. You came undone beneath your boyfriend and euphoria washed over your body once you climaxed.

His tired body lay still on top of you with his head resting on your shoulder. As his high went down, Xiao rolled to the side. Strong arms pulled you closer and wrapped themselves around you. He wanted to be this close to you as both of you fell asleep because he never wants to let you go.

Masterlist

#genshin impact #genshin impact smut #genshin impact xiao #xiao smut #genshin impact x reader #xiao x reader #genshin impact idol au #yandere xiao #roiree red zone

[withabroken-heart]

LOOSE LIPS SINK SHIPS

osamu dazai x reader

ADA! dazai

PM! reader

the anxiety of your relationship with dazai tears down your walls of safety.

to couples all around you, love was bright. love was warm and love was beautiful. love was a sacred, precious glow that engulfed only the souls who were lucky enough to grasp it.

for you, however, love was something very different.

love was a sly bastard. love knew many secrets and deals it shouldn’t have. love was risky and restless. love chewed its nails to a pulp in anxiety. love tossed and turned at night replaying arguments over and over again and winning each time. love knew no bounds, but that only allowed it to tarnish yours and your lovers souls each passing day.

you swiped on your phone so many times you may as well have been abusing it, all to see the timestamps of his texts. the last text he sent you, letting you know that he had made it home safely, was at 9:20 pm. it was now 9:26. a six minute difference. only 360 seconds had passed since you had last heard from him. and your heart raced like it had never before.

where the fuck was he?

what if something happened to him? what if the other executives know? what if mori sent someone after him because they somehow know? what if something already happened and you’re too late? what if you already lost him and you cant get him back and he won’t come back and-

bzzt!

osamu: you need to stop worrying, [n/n]

9:28 pm

you had hopelessly fallen for dazai the moment you walked through his office doors. you were a mere subordinate for the port mafia, a skilled and sly agent who knew more than most how to sneak around. the world beat you down into the cement and forced you into a corner, and the only way out was to live on the wrong side of the law. you didn’t have the time, money or even the energy to think of another way out.

and you knew your dazai well. you knew that the life of the port mafia was never going to last forever, at least not for him. you saw it in his eyes, the way he longed to do something more. almost as much as he longed for you. and it was that final push of losing someone that allowed him to leave. and you were proud.

but. you also wanted to be selfish.

did finding his reason living mean no longer loving you?

you didn’t want to find out.

dazai had left in a hurry that night. it was one quick goodbye hug and one quick kiss that also managed to slow down time all together. if there was one thing you wanted to do, it was to freeze time on the moment his lips were still your lips. the ones only you could kiss. the ones that bared your name like no one else. were they still yours?

you had lost track of how long it had truly been. maybe a few months, if you had to guess. recently, mori had promoted you to executive status. you were conflicted, replacing the role your lover had escaped, but you knew this way you’d be safe. you would never have to worry about the burdens that pushed you into a life of crime in the first place. you could finally be secure, be free.

but you couldn’t be secure. you couldn’t feel safe. not when dazai still haunted you.

the relationship, if you could call it that, was a strange one. you would text every day, but wouldn’t dare to press the call button because you knew you’d burst into flames upon hearing his voice again. that didn’t cancel out the temptation, however. texts were sometimes short and vague, and other times profound declarations of life and love. you read those every single day.

did dazai find his reason living? did he still love you? does he know you still love him and its driving you insane?

you never figured that out. but a tiny part of you holds onto that. not the love, but the hope that love is there. maybe you’d feel those lips again. maybe you’d feel his bandaged heart again. maybe. 

osamu: goodnight [y/n]

10:07 pm

#bsd chuuya #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs #bsd fyodor #bsd fanart #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #dazai fanart #dazai osamu #osamu x reader #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai x you #osamudazai #dazai x y/n #bungo stray dogs dazai

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Um Ror boys with Haganezuka reader(tanjiros sword smith) so very passionate and will attack if weapon is broken or lost( boys that actually use weapons so kojiro Poseidon Thor Lu Bu Loki that kinda jazz) don’t gotta do it just thought it’d be cute/funny

-When you were approached to supply weapons for Ragnarok, for both humans and gods, you were ready for the challenge.

-You had been working hard, honing your skills, training alone up on a mountain, training your body and your mind, training your focus to create the best weapons in Valhalla.

-The tournament was actually started much later, because you weren’t done with the weapons for the fighters, something you yelled at both Brunnhilde and Zeus for, that if they wanted the best fights, then the weapons needed to be the best.

-When you were finally done, you couldn’t help but smile brightly, beaming down at the four weapons you had been requested to make.

-You were so happy you had extra dango in celebration.

-You presented each of them with their weapons, going over the craftsmanship as they admired their weapons and only Kojiro actually listened to you, as he knew the art and time that went into making weapons, let alone intricate ones like theirs.

-Since you were finished, you chose to watch the fights, curious as to who was going to be fighting who and you wanted to see your weapons in action, little flowers surrounded you in glee at the thought of it.

-THESE BASTARDS BROKE YOUR BEAUTIFUL WEAPONS!!!!

-EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM!!!

-DEATH IS THEIR ONLY OPTION!!!

-Lu Bu- When he walked backstage he was not expecting to see you there, holding a knife in each hand, a dark aura surrounding you, “You bastard!! How dare you break my beautiful halberd?!” before you charged at him, intent on disemboweling him. Lu Bu dodged before running from you, as you were feral, your mask shedding your own tears as you chased him around the stadium, which was comical to see. Brunnhilde managed to pin you down with Goll, tickling you before throwing you into a room with wind chimes to calm you down before she handed Lu Bu a large plate of dango. You accepted, but you poked him in his shoulder rapidly, complaining that he was weak, that’s why your weapon broke and you nearly snapped when he asked you to make him a new one, “Yours was stronger than any other I’ve ever had.” His praise made you go silent as you ate your dango, turning away from him, silently happy about his praise, which he thought was amusing. You were a good person to know since your weapons were such high quality and so strong.

-Poseidon and Kojiro- The samurai was grinning at the god as they walked backstage together, Poseidon was annoyed that he lost, but he had to admit that the human he was facing against was at least strong and gave him a good challenge. Poseidon stopped walking first, something Kojiro noticed and turned back to him, going to inquire when he heard a throaty growl and the samurai turned, paling lightly as he saw you there, a knife in each hand, and a headband around your forehead, two more knives strapped to it, making you look like a demon, with a dark, angry aura surrounding you. Poseidon didn’t know fear until he was running from you with a human. Your roars of anger, wishing death on both of them, was heard all around the stadium, even as night fell, only getting short breaks when they found a temporary hiding space. The only reason you stopped is because Brunnhilde managed to tickle you before knocking you out for a nap, giving them a chance to find a good hiding spot so they could prepare an apology gift.

-Loki- Was pouting, annoyed that he broke his weapon, his chained sickles, as they were made so well, you did such a good job on them, but his opponent broke them with a suicide attack that broke his own weapon. Loki popped up behind Brunnhilde, scaring Goll but not Brunnhilde, “Hey~ Brunnhilde~ do you know where Y/N is? I want them to make me another set of sickles.” Goll was the one to speak up, holding out a letter, “Y/N left shortly after your match but asked me to give you this.” He looked excited, a bright grin on his face which quickly fell as he opened your letter, looking like it was written in blood, telling him to die and that you would never make a weapon for him again. Loki looked a bit terrified, his eyes little dots and his mouth an ‘X’ shape as he looked up at Brunnhilde as she patted her shoulder, “I’ll pray for you.” Darkness surrounded him as he realized how pissed you were at him, knowing how hard you worked. He would need to give you one hell of an apology present.

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror lu bu #ror poseidon #ror kojiro sasaki #ror loki