#Rev's Fist of Love

[braindeadmaggot]

🌚🌚🌚🌚🌚🌚🌚🌚🌚🌚🌚🌚🌚🌚🌚🌚🌚🌚🌚🌚🌚🌚🌚🌚🌚🌚🌚🌚🌚🌚🌚🌚🌚🌚🌚🌚🌚🌚🌚🌚🌚🌚🌚🌚

You have still failed to impress me.

Be gone, incorrect phase anon!!

[nerdy-novelist017]

The Ride (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader Pt 2)

Wow, I truly didn't expect all the love for the last post! Thank you so so much! Here's a part two baked fresh just for you lovelies! ;)

( Also! I'm going to work on putting together a masterlist for my fics for him since I have so many ideas)

Ps. please send me requests for this man i'm going feral over here from all the possibilities

Part 1 here

Benny x Bunny Masterlist

Word Count- 1.9k

-Minor NSFW Content-

Summary- You thought getting on the bike would be the hardest part. Having to unwrap your legs from his waist and get off at the end of the night was significantly more difficult.

*******

Despite the fact that you knew there were multiple people surrounding you, all cheering, your eyes were glued to Benny’s form as he swung a leg over top of his bike. He kickstarted the motorcycle, the muscles in his thigh flexing through the faded pair of jeans he wore. The engine roared to life and it took everything in you not to jump back. Benny glanced over his shoulder, and the look in his eyes all but dared you to run away, to take it back and return to the safety of the car. 

But some underlying competitive streak in you flared and you clenched your fists tightly. You approached his bike and he took your purse and Tupperware bowl, tucking them away in his back compartment. He leaned forward and awkwardly swung a leg over his bike, attempting to repeat his action as you mounted, but the movement caused your dress to slide up to reveal a generous view of your upper thigh. Blushing, you glanced at the onlookers who cheered and whistled at the sight, but Benny seemed to ignore them. Without looking, he reached back, his hand enveloping your thigh, sliding it higher so that your foot found the footrest. Heat instantly blossomed from the contact and you physically resisted clenching your knees tighter around him. 

“Hang on tight, Little Bunny,” he murmured as he moved his hand to grab your arm, gently guiding it forward to wrap around his waist.  He revved the engine and you tighten your grasp over his waist, eyes closed as the bike began to slowly roll forward over the grassy field. The cheers subsided into the wind that tugged gently at your hair. You’re going on an adventure, it seemed to say, but you refused to open your eyes.

Heart drumming in your chest, you hoped to spend the entire ride with your eyes screwed shut, pretending to be anywhere else, anywhere safer. But then the bumpy and uneven field soon turned to smooth blacktop as he maneuvered the two of you onto the backroad. You felt the bike increase in speed slightly and you dared to peek an eye open. Corn fields blurred as you sped by, the setting sun seeming to light the horizon with a brilliant show of deep oranges and purples. A gasp escaped your lips and you pressed yourself closer to him in a desperate measure to not fall off, hands flush against the curve of his abdomen.  

He rode with one hand, you realized, and it painted a picture of a cowboy in your mind. Had this been the 1860s, Benny would have ridden his horse like this, a model of a true outlaw with his dangerous persona and ruggedly handsome appearance.

The world sped by, or rather you sped by the world as Benny drove down the center of the yellow lines. You couldn’t stop the squeal that escaped you as he leaned the bike to go around a turn. He took you down roads you’ve never been before, pointed out interesting things and places you’ve never seen. True to his word, he didn’t go very fast, never faster than the speed limit at least. But regardless, it was an adventure – both frightening and fun and your heart never seemed to return to its slower rhythm. Despite the fact that you've never ridden on a motorcycle before and the uncertainty of your next destination, there was strange sense of safety that invoked you as you breathed in Benny's scent, hands clasped tightly to him. As the sun completely dipped below the horizon and the temperature dropped, he finally asked you where you lived. 

When he did eventually pull up to your house (hours later), the rumble of the motorcycle seemed to echo off the houses, disturbing the peaceful silence of your quiet neighborhood. He cut the engine and the toe of his boot kicked out the kickstand, shifting your combined weights to the side slightly and the air was once again filled with silence. The muscles in his back flexed as he leaned back ever so slightly, his head turning to glance back at you over his shoulder.

He held an arm out for you as you awkwardly dismounted, heart pounding again. A strange sense of disappointment panged in your gut as the bottom of your heels made contact with the blacktop. You stood there before him, eyes now level with his as he remained seated casually on his bike. Keep driving, you wanted to tell him. Keep driving and let's find our way to the end of the world together. You wanted to hop back on the back and wrap your arms around his waist. You wanted to ride with him till the sun came up over the horizon, just this once, just because you’ve never stayed out till the sun came up. Your family would worry, your father would be pacing up and down the hallway just inside, but something in you longed to throw caution to the wind, to do something naughty. 

You bit your lip as you broke eye contact with him and looked down to your feet. What were you thinking? You played life by the rules. You were a good girl, that’s what your parents called you. That’s what your teachers called you. That’s what you were raised to be. That’s all you knew how to be, what you were comfortable with. Benny . . . he made you uncomfortable. He filled your belly with butterflies, made your heart pump harder than normal, made the spot between your legs tingle. All things that dangerously threatened to upend the perfectly planned life you had. Trouble, plain and simple.

You got what you wanted – a ride home and a bit of excitement. You got close enough to the fire without getting burned, got to play a risky game for the evening. Now it was time for you to go back to your routine life. That perfectly . . . boring life. 

“Thank you . . . for the ride,” you said softly, the adrenaline of the adventure smothering into ashes. 

He nodded and you watched as his cyan gaze moved from you to your house behind you. “You still live with your family?”

“Yeah,” you replied, heat touching your face. “Why?”

He looked back at you. “Just gotta know what kind of house you want after we’re married.”

“What?” you balked at him, stomach dropping like you just took a plunge off a bridge.

He smiled and leaned an arm forward, resting casually on his bike as if he didn’t just say something shockingly direct. He offered no help, just watched as you attempted to sputter a response.

“M–married? We . . . I don’t . . . even know you.” You breathed out a nervous laugh. You went for one ride with him! You had only had a handful of sentences exchanged between you, the majority of those spoken with a crowd cheering around you. Who did this guy think he was? 

He shrugged as he slid his hands into the front pocket of his jacket and retrieved his pack of cigarettes. “We have the rest of our lives to get to know each other.”

Your eyes widened at his audacity. “I’m not marrying you!”

“Yeah? Why’s that?” He looked amused as he flipped open his lighter, the flame casting his face in an orange glow as he lit one of his cigarettes. Your protests wavered slightly as you watched his hands cup around the flame in an effort to protect from the wind and his brow furrowed slightly in concentration, the cigarette tucked between his lips. A phantasm of his hands cupping your breasts, his tall frame hovering above you, lips pressing softly against your collarbone tainted your mind and you took a step back to put physical distance between you and this man. 

Swallowing thickly, you continued, “Well, I don’t even know your last name–”

“Cross.”

“–And I don’t even know if I like you!”

“I think you like me,” he said confidently and you snapped your jaw shut at the accusation. “Why else would you let me drive you home?”

“W–what if I just used you to get me home?” you countered quickly. 

“Did you use me, Bunny?” he drew out the sentence with an almost painfully seductive smile. You furrowed your brow, irritation flooding your veins. He was quick, you’d give him that.

Benny studied the way your lips pursed and he wondered if that was something you did while you were angry or if it was your way of finding another excuse. He wanted to spend the rest of his life finding the answers to your facial expressions, the meaning behind your almost undetectable quirks he was discovering with each minute spent in your company. And my god, those those lips . . . his eyes fell down to those soft lips of yours, fascinated by how he wanted to feel them wrapped around his—

“Thank you for the ride, Mr. Cross,” your voice brought him back to reality as you reached forward and grabbed your purse and empty Tupperware bowl from his bike. “But I–I have no intentions on marrying you. In fact, I doubt I’ll ever see you again.”

“Hmm, okay,” he feigned being hurt by your words. “Whatever you say, kid.” 

You shot him a frustrated look. “What’s with all the nicknames?”

He held up his arms in mock surrender. “You don’t like ‘em?”

"I don't think they're very accurate."

He raised his brows at you, unconvinced.

“Yeah? Well, I got a nickname for you.” you retorted. 

“And what’s that?” He played along to your game. 

“Trouble.”

“Trouble?”

“Mh-hm.” You nodded and lifted your free hand to brush the wind-whipped hair from your eyes.

He shrugged and spoke around the cigarette in his mouth. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been called that. You think I’m trouble, Bunny?”

An exasperated sigh left your lips and Benny felt a swell of pride at the reaction. This was fun, teasing you like this. The blush tainting your face, a clear sign of your flustered reaction, made his heartbeat quicken. 

“Goodnight, Benny,” you said a little firmer as you turned and walked up the sidewalk to your house. 

“Goodnight, Bunny,” Benny called out as he watched the sway of your hips as you climbed the front steps. You shot him one last look over the curve of your shoulder before you opened the front door and slipped inside. Benny sat on his bike outside your house, his mind reeling as he finished his cigarette. He hadn’t felt this excited in a long time and hadn't felt this kind of adrenaline since his first ride. This was a new kind of ride, Benny realized. Something exhilarating and arousing gripped his heart when he looked at you in your pretty little dress with your innocently wide eyes and pouty lip. The primal instinct of taking you in his arms and laying you down onto your shared bed, his body shielding you from the rest of the world played in his mind the movie. He wanted to grab your hand and show you just how exciting life could be with him. Not to change you, he’d make sure your integrity was protected, but to broaden your horizon.

And maybe it made him selfish, but Benny's never had anything as good as you in his life and because of that, he wanted to be your guide throughout every adventure going forward.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

slap

words: 1k

warnings: established relationship, hitting rafe, rafe having a panic attack, brief self harm from rafe (not really intentional), drunk riding? a dirt bike

“rafe.” you say softly, trying to keep your voice steady. “stop that.”

“i-” rafe takes a gasping breath, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “i can't.”

“you're going to hurt yourself.” your eyes flicker down to his clenching fist, his nails digging into his palm, threatening to break skin. your voice is trembling with concern.

“i can't.” rafe says again, his mouth turning to a frown as he struggles to hold back tears, eyes glistening.

you don't know what to do. you've seen rafe overwhelmed before, but this is a new low, seemingly to lose control over his body. hes always kept it together before, especially for you when you’re around.

you reach out, not sure if it would help, and slap your hand directly across his cheek in a swift, firm hit.

you both fall silent and time seems to stand still as you stare into each other's eyes, both in shock at your action when rafes hands loosen and pull you into him.

“that helped.” he says, tucking his head into the space between your shoulder and neck, pressing a kiss to your skin.

“okay.” you reach around his waist and hold him tightly. “im sorry for hitting you.”

“it's okay.” rafe says, eyes closing, quickly tiring out. 

“let's go to bed, yeah?” it's the middle of the day, but you're ready to retreat into rafes bedroom, especially to get away from ward who didn't let your presence hold him back from shouting at rafe.

“yeah.” rafe grips your hand tightly, needing that connection to you as you head up the stairs.

--

“rafe.” you voice is harsh and controlled, but not a yell. not yet.

“baby-” rafes voice is whiny and slurred from all the shots of alcohol he'd taken with his boys earlier. “what do you want? im going-”

“you're not going anywhere without a helmet on. you already shouldn't be riding drunk.” you place your hands on your hips. 

“im fine.” rafe says, a smile stretching across his cheeks, hoping it will appease you, will make you let this go like you usually do.

“no.” you say harshly. “get off the bike and get a helmet.”

rafes expression hardens as he revs the engine, threatening to take off and join kelce and topper, but you don't care that they already sped away towards the country club without putting any protection on.

rafe opens his mouth to continue to argue, but you cut him off with a slap across his face.

rafe blinks, stunned.

“sorry.” rafe steps off the bike and takes your face in his hands, pressing a kiss to your lips. “ill get a helmet.”

“thank you.” you're still not happy that he's even going, but you know you can't do much to control rafe and you’ve learned to pick your battles.

--

you're sitting on the couch playing on your phone, scrolling aimlessly through social media when you hear the roar of the bike engine returning to tanneyhill.

you frown and check the time, but your mental clock was correct, it's only been around an hour since rafe and his friends left, too early for him to be returning.

curious, you walk outside in time to watch rafe pull into the garage. 

“what are you doing back so early?” you ask as he takes his helmet off. 

“i missed you.” rafe sniffles then pouts, his voice shy and a little sheepish. “i don't like being away from you when im drunk… or ever.”

“aww, whose a softie?” you giggle, wrapping your arms around his shoulder as you melt at his words.

“and i feel bad about being mean to you about me wearing a helmet. i know you were just looking out for me.” rafe ducks his head and presses his lips to your forehead.

“i forgive you.” you wrap your arms around him in a tight hug. “sorry for slapping you.”

rafe shakes his head, dismissing your apology without the need of any further acknowledgement.

“love you so much.” rafe picks you up and carries you inside. you're not worried about him falling or dropping you, he wouldn't allow you to get hurt even in his drunk state.

--

“ahhh!” you scream out, hand reaching out and hitting the figure in the face that appeared from the darkness. you reach up again with your other hand to deliver another slap when a hand emerges from the shadow and grabs your wrist.

“baby, it's me.”

rafes voice cuts through the darkness as you freeze before your body deflates.

“oh shit.” knees buckling as rafe grabs you and pulls you against his chest. “i thought you were an intruder.”

“an intruder?” rafe laughs. “well, that was a good hit. i think you might leave a mark.”

“a mark?” you squeal, pulling away from his chest and looking at his cheek, that does in fact have a red mark in the distinct shape of your fingers.

rafe just laughs, his arms wrapping around you more securely. “dont worry about it.” he says, kissing the top of your head. “its kind of hot that you’re so tough.”

--

“god, shes hot.” rafes voice is loud, almost obnoxious, as he pipes up for the first time since entering the room and plopping down on the couch next to you.

“what the fuck?” you question, dropping your phone as your eyes narrow at him.

“nothing.” theres a smile on rafes face that tells you there's something more as you try to snatch his phone from his hand, but he holds it just out of your reach.

“give it!” you squeal as rafe laughs at your frustration, not fighting too hard before letting you see the screen, opened up to his photo album filled with pictures of you, candid shots, selfies you’ve sent him, and moments he’d captured of you without your knowledge.

“oh my god, you piece of shit!” you join in on rafes laughter, falling into his lap. 

you reach your hand up and playfully hit rafes cheek. “i hate you.” you say, though the affection in your voice betrays your words.

“no you don't.” rafe counters, pressing his lips against yours. “you love me.”

“yeah.” you admit, kissing him back. “i love you.”

sfw tags: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @ladyinbl00d @ethanthequeefqueen @drewsephrry @wearemadeofstardust0

[anisespice]

“ block boy ” || tokyo rev.

parings: bonten x fem!reader [ mikey, kaku, sanzu, rin, ran ]

warnings: mature content ahead. MDI. cursing, mentions of violence, blood, pregnancy mentioned in ran’s, a lot of down bad behavior on both ends lol and i think that’s it.

notes: i pledge allegiance to doechii, and the absolute banger of a song that is “what it is”. literally the first thing i thought of was bonten and couldn’t get ‘em out of my head unless i wrote something down sooo here ya go lol 

notes ii: basically times where you pulled their weight when they least expected you to/when they’re not around. called the shots, took some shots, beat someone up, defended them, loving on them, stuff like this (•3•>)

tagged: @fantasycantasy, @illegalspacecow, @captaincyberqueen

“Did the severity of the situation finally click in your thick skulls, or do I have to waste more of my breath spelling it out for you?”

When MIKEY returned from his much needed evening snooze in the break room you threatened sweetly advised him to take after working for 17 hours straight, he was expecting to return to the shitstorm he left behind. However, when he entered his office, to his muted surprise there you were, in the middle of berating a handful of subordinates nearly twice your size, all shrunk within themselves as your sharp tone pierced through them all. He stood in the doorway with a curious gaze, head tilted ever so slightly as he made sure to keep quiet so not to notify you of his presence.

Mikey took note of your hip popped outward, balled fist rested upon it in the stance he knew all too well whenever you were on your last nerve. Knowing what those idiots did, someone was bound to stumble outta there in tears; your fury wasn’t for the weak.

You eyed the group with raised brows, expectant. “Well?”

One member was brave, or stupid enough to actually answer. He hesitated, but cleared his throat and replied, “I-It was an honest mistake…we thought the product was secured in the truck already when we made the exchange, b-but-”

“B-B—Bullshit. You were given specific instructions to check the inventory to make sure those smarmy assholes weren’t trying pull a fast one, and you were too careless to do a full sweep. You failed abortions not only made Bonten look like complete amateurs, but you added more nonsense for my man to deal with all because you didn’t check the back of the goddamn trucks!”

You flung the clipboard you were holding at the guy’s head, making them all duck around to avoid getting hit, only one unlucky sucker wasn’t as quick as the wooden projectile got him right in the nose. He yelped, no doubt it was broken with the sheer amount of force you put in the throw. Mikey barely flinched, but he did blink a few times in astonishment.

“You’re gonna hunt those fuckers down like dogs and make right of your ‘mistake’ by the end of today, or I’m gonna have Sanzu chop you into pieces and throw you in the Shinano River-!” Mikey cleared his throat.

You swiftly looked over your shoulder at the noise, mood doing a complete 180 when you locked eyes with the object of your affection, skittering over to wrap him in your arms. “Oh! Jiro, baby, I didn’t hear you come in.”

“‘s okay..” he leaned into your warmth, eyes hooded as he graced you with a faint, sleepy grin. “Didn’t want to interrupt your.. meeting. Seemed serious.”

You playfully rolled your eyes. “Just doing a little ‘housekeeping’ until you got enough rest, that’s all.”

He slowly nodded, lips pursed. “Could’ve sworn I pay good money for people to do that for me.”

“You do, but I was already here. Figured it was more productive to handle it myself rather than waste time looking for someone available. Besides, had to make sure you didn’t try to sneak your narrow butt back in here to continue working—We both know I’m the only one around here who can keep you in check.”

He couldn’t argue with that.

“Mm.. can’t say you don’t fill the role of boss rather nicely. It suits you. Should have you do it more often.”

Though you were sure he was teasing you, you couldn’t help but feel yourself grow warm at his praise. You lightly hit his arm, bashful. How this was the same woman who struck fear in a room full of criminals was beyond comprehension, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Speaking of which.. Mikey couldn’t help but notice the said group of subordinates silently begging for him to reconsider in his peripheral, hands clasped in prayer while the one with the busted nose bowed deeply to the floor, forehead to hardwood. It was as if the idea of you being in charge any longer brought them great despair. How interesting.

Huffing through his nose, Mikey placed a loving kiss on your forehead whilst eyeing the group behind majority of his stress for the day, void of any remorse as he coldly spoke.

“Matter of fact.. think ‘m still feeling a little tired, angel. How about you handle another hour f’me? Or two?”

The silence was deafening as the dual-color eyed man avoided looking at you while you stitched him up without a word. When you were greeted by a bleeding KAKUCHO at your doorstep a little past midnight, pale in the face and could barely stand, there were no questions asked as you quickly escorted him into your home, setting him gently on the couch before you sprung for your first aid in the kitchen. He wasn’t sure what he could say in that moment, feeling like a complete moron for even showing up looking like he fled a crime scene which he kinda did but that’s besides the point. Your relationship was still in the budding phase, just starting to get a feel of one another as you tested the waters.

Well, consider the waters tested.

“You’re not really an undercover cop, are you?”

Kakucho gulped. He slowly shook his head, eyes trained on his lap while yours felt like they were burning holes right through him. You nodded as you continued carefully stitching him up. It wasn’t the best, but it would hold him over until he got proper medical attention. At first, he figured that would be all you said to him. But, when you completed dressing the wound, you asked a follow up question. “It’s something illegal, isn’t it?”

He couldn’t bring himself to answer, his strained grip on his pant leg enough response. Kakucho half expected you to berate him, curse him for potentially endangering your life, for lying.

“.. forgive me..” he croaked, bowing his head.

He felt sick to his stomach, he couldn’t bear the thought of you despising him, but he’d honor your wishes without protest if you never wanted to see him again…

However, what he didn’t expect was for you cup the sides of his face and bring his wavering gaze to your soft one. You smiled endearingly at the bewilderment that overcame his ashamed expression, him blinking at you widely with tears hanging onto his lashes like a wounded puppy. Your thumb ghosted over the tiny droplets, careful not to aggravate the bruise forming around the socket.

Leaning forward to shower him with tender kisses, Kakucho was at a crossroad—One side wanted nothing more than to melt into a puddle of goo, but the other refused to believe that he wasn’t hallucinating, waiting for the sick twisted punchline of this dream come true. Feeling him still so tense in your hold, you leaned back with your smile still present.

“This doesn’t change how I feel about you, Hitto.”

Kakucho blinked. Then, he meekly replied. “W-what?”

You coyly tilted your head, “To be honest, I always figured there was something…off about you. Like, you were holding something back. My first guess was that you were seeing other women-”

“Never.” His eyes switched from uncertain to stern in a matter of seconds, as if the implication alone repulsed him. He softened once you giggled at his declaration, patting his leg in reassurance.

“I know. You’re much too sweet to be a player. I pondered over it for a while, thought back to how we usually met up late at night, or you would have to leave at odd times. My second guess was your work just kept you really busy.. and after tonight.. after all of this,” you gestured at the blood stains everywhere, “safe to say I was on the right track.”

Kakucho hesitated. “And that doesn’t…put you off?”

“That you’re a thug?” He winced, but nodded. The silence that followed behind was borderline suffocating, leaving his hands sweaty and nerves shot as he anticipated your response with baited breath. But, he didn’t need to worry.

With a loving coo, you placed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, right over the split in his lip causing him to flinch slightly at the sting, but he welcomed the affection all the same. However, when your warm tongue peeked out to soothe the cut in slow, teasing swipes, homie nearly choked.

Kaku’s jaw fluttered open as a soft gasp escaped him next, the sensation foreign but not unpleasant as he felt his entire face heat up like a furnace. Your sudden proximity forced him back on the couch while you slid down to the floor betwixt his spread legs, making his head spin; this wasn’t going like how he thought it would at all. Being careful of his stitches, your arms rested on either side of him as your tongue explored his mouth, making him groan softly at the feeling of the wet muscle tangling around his so earnestly, hand reaching up instinctively to caress the side of your face as he deepened the kiss. His other hand held your waist, gripping your shirt as if he couldn’t believe you were there—That you wanted to stay.

The ravenette’s breath hitched when he felt one of your hands trailing up his thigh, slowly but surely making your way to his stiffening cock confined in his pants. Slightly startled, Kakucho pulled back from the heated kiss, a string of saliva still keeping you connected as you panted in each other’s mouths. Before he could question what you were up to, he cuts himself off with a whimper when you palmed his thick shaft while maintaining intense eye contact, a smile on your face as you sent the gangster into paradise when you sweetly whispered:

“Always wanted to be a ride or die.”

It was as if someone pushed him into an alternate dimension.

Not even moments ago, you were showing SANZU a cute tiktok of a kitten wrapped up like a burrito and mewing dramatically, nearly tearing up at the sight as you tugged on his arm and pleaded for him to buy you one just like it. Having bought out the entire evening in one of Tokyo’s most exclusive five star restaurants for your anniversary, Sanzu figured it’d be nothing more than a simple night with his lovely wife. Man’s must’ve forgot who he was.

When those fools tried an ambush on him, Sanzu was more than happy dealing with them quickly by just airing them out until his gun was empty. Although, as he went reaching for it, imagine his shock when you held his wrist to stop him. You had a different sentiment.

It was like a scene out of one of his most crazed fantasies. His lovely wife, holding his beloved katana to an enemy’s throat, covered in the blood of his comrades as he sobbed pathetically for you to spare him. As if Beatrix Kiddo entered the chat, you sliced into them with a swiftness, shredding through them all like paper; a dinner and a show. He wasn’t sure when you learned how to wield the weapon with such grace and precision, but he couldn’t care less when his pants were this fucking tight. But he couldn’t let you have all the fun, watching your six any time a goon tried to get the jump on you while your back was turned, Sanzu was quick to bust a cap right between their eyes. After spilling gallons of blood from the opposition, leaving one still standing, you decided to play with him a little bit.

“P-Please! I-if you let me go, you’ll never see my face again, I-I swear! I was just..just following orders, I-”

“Oh, c’mon, where’s your conviction from earlier, huh? You were so confident before I minced all your friends. What was it you said you’d do to me once you killed my husband? Can’t seem to put my finger on it…Haru, darling, do you recall?”

Sanzu, with his chin placed atop his interlocked fingers like a smitten fool, smoothly answered, “Said he’d ‘Fuck you raw on top of my corpse’.”

You winked. “Bingo. Thank you, handsome.”

“Welcome, gorgeous.”

The sniveling man yipped when the blade nicked his skin, a thin stream of blood flowing in its wake as you pressed it closer to his throat. His heart rate paced like a rabbit caught in a trap, nostrils flaring as he breathed sporadically while his life laid in the palm of your hand.

“Guess that didn’t go according to plan, aw.” You sardonically cooed, spurring on a bit of rage as he gritted out a dry ‘Fuck you’ in his final efforts of showing dominance. “Oo, there’s that passion we were missing!~ Let’s see how much more I can carve outta yo-”

Hearing the sound of faint sirens in the distance, Sanzu clicked his tongue in annoyance. With a grumble the pinkette popped a piece of his steak in his mouth and spoke between chews as he cocked his gun, “Alright, [_____], playtime’s over. We gotta haul ass.”

You pouted. “But, we didn’t get to fuck on top of his corpse...”

Sanzu swallowed, hard. He couldn’t help but internally groan with desire at your innocent display of vulgarity, tempted to take you up on that offer, but the last thing he wanted was for you to be involved in a standoff with the cops. You��ve proven you can handle yourself very well, a lot more than he realized that’s for sure, but you were still his precious baby at the end of the day.

Better to keep you out of danger than thrust you in more of it, no matter how much the thought excited him.

“Next time, pretty baby.”

You huffed. “Fine.”

Without hesitation, you strummed the man’s throat like a cello, the katana tearing through the skin with ease. The symphony of gurgles that escaped him sent shivers down Sanzu’s spine as he watched in manic glee as the man choked on his own blood. You never looked more stunning covered in red and holding his blade like it belonged in your hand, he wanted nothing more than to ravish you on the spot, but as the sirens drew near he tamed his urges just this once. You took his extended hand gratefully, swaying them as you both rushed for the restaurant’s back exit.

Once outside, while he scoped out the area for any cops patrolling, you nudged him. When he turned to see you beaming at him whilst blood stained your face, he swore his heart skipped a beat. “What?”

“You’re getting me a kitten to make up for this, right, Haru?”

He raised a brow, but exhaled a chuckle. “Sweetheart. Show off that violent side of yours more often, and you can have as many as you want.”

“You good, ma?” A delightful shiver ran down your spine and straight to your pussy.

That was always the visceral response your body had whenever RINDOU spoke, especially low and intimately in your ear. From either gently waking you first thing in the morning, or to secretly shit-talk in crowed areas, it was his go-to method to getting your attention effortlessly. A dangerous method, one that was about to make you act up in front of all these important clients, decorum be damned.

“I am now,” you purred, falling back into his embrace as strong arms came vining around your waist. He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your temple as he gently swayed you both to the rhythm of the soft jazz playing over the speakers of the ballroom.

“Missed me that bad, huh.” You nodded with a slight pout, turning in his hold to stare up longingly into his eyes. They were lidded, heady. Another dangerous method of your husband’s that made you weak in the knees—his undivided attention. “Bored?”

“So fucking bored,” you whined, tugging on his lapels. “These things are always such a drab..”

Rindou hummed, hands slowly slipping down from your waist to hold your hips. You tensed slightly, not even bothering to mask the second shiver it caused. His grin turned sharp in response, head tilting. “Ya sure that’s what has you so out of it?”

You tilted yours, confused. He continued, “You’re not as subtle as you think you are. You’ve been eye-fucking me for the past ten minutes. Came over to make sure you weren’t dripping all over the damn floor—”

“Shut up,” you jabbed him in the side, face boiling. Rindou barely flinched, squeezing your hips as he snickered cheekily at your embarrassment. “You’re so irking...”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. If you knew I was horny, I could’ve been folded on my back ten minutes ago.”

“Hm, almost as if I was doing something important, like…” he trailed off, making you squint and almost jab him again until he grabbed your hand in the last second, bringing it to his chest with a smug grin, “working.”

You huffed, “I’m important too…do me.”

Rindou snorted, but brought your hand up to gently kiss the inside of your wrist with a tender look in his eyes. “‘course you are, baby. Didn’t know it would go for this long, ‘m sorry.”

“Then, how ‘bout you and I take a little…smoke break,” you suggested, hopeful; desperate. However, it’s futile when your husband clicks his tongue.

“No can do. Kakucho’s still not over the last time we took a ‘smoke break’ together.”

“He’s not? Seriously? We weren’t even gone for that long!”

He raised a brow. “[______]. The check made it back to the table before we did.”

You groaned, exasperated as you wiggled around in his hold. Rindou merely watched in mirth, not even phased as he let you finish your tiny tantrum. He teasingly cooed, “I know, I know. Poor thing can’t go a day without something plugging up her slutty little hole.”

“Shut up..!” You shrunk into his chest to hide away from the sultry words spoken directly in your ear, thighs clenching together as his deep chuckle came soon after.

Rindou was very much aware of your voice kink. It filled his ego to the brim with how needy you were, crumbling anytime he so much as spoke to you in a certain way. There’s nothing he wanted more than to ditch and bury himself in your thighs, giving it to you however you wished, for as long as you wished, whispering praises to you with a sprinkle of degradation in there to keep you craving for more of his soothing voice. But, unless he wanted his nuts handed to him on a silver platter by his stickler of a superior, you were just gonna have to wait.

And he knew how much you hated doing that.

“Ten minutes.”

He sighed. “[_____]…”

“Five minutes?”

“We can’t-“

“A minute, god, I don’t even have to finish, Rin, please.” You whined in his ear, forcing him to close his eyes as a means to strengthen his resolve. It didn’t do much help when your arms wrapped around his neck to gently rake your manicured nails against the nape, your thigh deliberately rubbing up against the growing erection confined in his dress pants. The tables had turned with a shiver now running down his spine, mind turning to mush as common sense slowly sunk into his dick. Maybe…sparing just a few minutes wouldn’t hurt.

Even though the lavender-haired gangster couldn’t see your face, he was certain you were grinning victoriously at the sound of his resolve breaking instantly, the slow exhale through his nose being all the confirmation necessary. Clearly, you weren’t the only one who was needy.

Swallowing down a groan, he hissed through clenched teeth, “You’re gonna be the death of me, y’know that?”

Giggling, you were already leading him toward the nearest exit, swiftly evading the eyes of his coworkers, satisfied that you were getting exactly what you wanted in the end.

“Better me than Kaku.”

“Like I’ve already explained to you, Officer. My husband’s been here all day. Dunno if you’ve noticed, but he can’t exactly afford to leave my side for more than ten minuets let alone an entire evening.”

Despite gesturing to your swollen stomach and the small child shyly peering from behind your leg, the cop still fixed you with a skeptical look. You did your best to remain unnerved, providing comfort for not only your son but yourself as you ran your fingers through his hair. Apparently, there had been a shootout that happened in the streets of Tokyo, and apparently a witness was able to describe one of the shooters…

Henceforth, the unexpected visit from law enforcement. Again.

“Mhm. And, may I ask, where exactly your husband is now? Surely if he’s been tending to his pregnant wife, he wouldn’t have her answering the front door.” He raised an eyebrow, wry grin stretched across his face.

You worked your jaw, annoyed. “In the shower.”

“How convenient. Washing off the blood, I assume?”

“You can assume whatever you want, it doesn’t change my answer. He’s been here, with us. Whoever said they saw him was mistaken. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got mouths to feed. Have an evening, Officer.”

“Now, hold on—”

Without an ounce of hesitation, or care, you slammed the door in his smug little face. And just like that…blissful silence. A grand weight lifted off your shoulders at the disgruntled sound of the pig’s flat-footed steps exiting out of your day. Releasing a slow exhale, your son took it upon himself to blow a raspberry at the closed door, having worked up the courage to mock the officer now that he was out of sight.

You grinned as you ruffled his hair, endearingly. “You tell ‘em, baby.”

However, that silence didn’t last long as RAN made himself known now that the coast was clear. Having hid around the corner in case things escalated, he too released an exhale, easy grin spreading across his face. Though your child was happy to see him, racing to cling onto his long legs, you merely glared in disapproval. Based off his appearance alone, disheveled and glistening with sweat, you wished your fib from earlier was true; he needed a shower.

“[S/n], don’t touch daddy right now…he stinks.”

Though a bit childish in your phrasing, Ran was well aware it held an underlying meaning, a chill running down his spine under your harsh scrutiny. He cleared his throat, somewhat nervous, as he searched his brain for honeyed words that would soothe your soreness toward him. And he laid it on thick.

“That’s ‘cause Daddy had to run the rest of the way home to make sure his babies were safe,” he leaned down to scoop up the clinging child, lightly tickling at his stomach poking out from under his pajama shirt to receive more joyous squeals. “But, Mommy scared away the big, mean police man all on her own, didn’t she?”

“Yea!” [S/n] squeaked, bright laugh bouncing off the walls as he wiggled around eagerly. You felt the corner of your lip twitch upward at the sight, but you pursed your lips to hide the impending smile—Ran noticed. He always did.

“Yeah.. we’re real lucky to have someone as wonderful as her to watch our backs whenever we’re in trouble.. right, mama?”

Your glare still remained, though not as harsh compared to moments ago. Despite the mirth swirling in his lavender gaze, you took note of something else hiding within. Something more raw, more vulnerable.

Remorse.

Ran didn’t like getting you caught up in his business. He did everything he could to ensure that none of you were ever exposed to the ugly parts of his life. Tonight, he was sloppy. He fucked up, and he knew that. The second shit hit the fan, his only priority was his family… You had every right to be livid with him, having both your son and a pregnancy to deal with virtually on your own, while also covering his ass from prying cops itching to nail him to the wall…It’s a miracle how you haven’t packed up and left him yet…

And he thanks his lucky stars that you haven’t.

With another deep exhale, you rubbed your temple. “I don’t know what it is that you do in those streets to cause such an upset, Ran-”

“For the record, tonight wasn’t exactly my fault-”

“-and I don’t care. I just…”

Your exhausted tone was more than enough to shut him up. He felt his throat tighten as he gently bounced your son on his hip to distract his increasing anxiety. The lavender-haired man mentally prepared for your scolding, already set on sleeping in the dog house if that’s what got him in your good graces again…but it doesn’t come. Eyes that were hyper focused on [S/n] fiddling with his loosened tie slowly trailed up at the sound of you huffing in, what he assumed to be, relief.

Waddling over to your boys, you reached up to caress their faces. Instinctively, they nuzzled into your palms, Ran a little more hesitant than your beaming son before reaching out with his free hand to touch your stomach. When your unborn child kicked against it in response, you noticed his shoulders visibly relax. Your thumb gently rubbed under his eye, frowning at the dark circles that formed on the pale skin. He looked solemnly into your eyes, turning his head slightly to kiss the inside of your palm. You sighed once more, eventually granting him a smile in reassurance.

Despite his abnormal lifestyle, and how hectic it could get, “I’m just glad you’re home.”

© 2024-2025 anisespice ッ all rights reserved. likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

[cap-winter-barnes]

Back For Good (Tyler Owens x Reader)

During this time of the year, the Texas weather becomes unbearably sweltering, almost out of nowhere. The sun and warmth you usually love to soak in soon becomes abhorrent as you crave a reprieve from the soaring temperatures.

The sky outside is a beautiful orange as you stare absentmindedly from the front porch, feet tapping uncontrollably on the wooden steps underneath you as you perch on the topmost deck. The view from where you sit is one you'll never tire of as you take in the masses of trees surrounding your property, your own private paradise.

Moving to Texas was the best decision you could have made all those months ago, especially under the circumstances of your family life. You first occupied the decades old ranch in the winter, when the humidity wasn't so dense. You immediately felt at home the moment you saw the view. Winter in Texas is your favourite season to witness, so much so you bestowed its name upon the small bundle nestled in your arms, barely a month old.

You're little Winter.

Such a small, delicate thing, with ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes. As soon as you saw that positive pregnancy test gripped between your shaking fingers, you vowed to protect and love her with your life - nothing could change that. A dusting of blonde hair adorns her head, accompanied by already hazel-green eyes, making her the spitting image of her father. Your husband.

A husband you pray makes a safe return home to you. To both of you. Despite what he does for a living, you can't fault his love for what he does. The last you saw of him was a few weeks prior to Winter's birth as he swore he'd be home to see her into the world in the safety of his arms. Yet the weather of the south had kept you apart, your baby girl arriving a whole month early, her Daddy missing the first breath of his first child. Yet he had kept contact with you as he fought through literal tornadoes to get home to you.

Glancing at your phone beside you, you are disappointed to have not received anymore texts or phonecalls, yet as you readjust your darling daughter in your arms, you hear the rev of an engine far off down the driveway.

Tears immediately start to pool in your eyes as you see the familiar red truck in the distance, dust following in its wake. Yet as you take in the damage to Tyler's beloved truck your heart ratchets up in your chest, a sick feeling taking over you. With a scrape of gravel, the truck comes to a sudden halt, only metres from where you sit. With unsteady legs, you stand as the door opens and outsteps your husband.

With a pause in your breath and heart, you take in the appearance of the man you've needed by your side these last few weeks. Adorned in his typical white shirt, jeans and boots, you feel the tears begin to fall down your cheeks.

There is the briefest pause as Tyler take you in before he instinctively moves towards you. Enveloping you in his arms, holding you tightly against his body without crushing your daughter, your free hand balled tightly into a fist around the back of his shirt. Heavy sobs escape your mouth as you revel in the feel of him against your skin, the sensation of his hands against your bare arms. A forceful, yet loving kiss is placed on the crown of your head as Tyler takes in the scent of your hair, missing the smell of your shampoo whilst he's been gone.

As if only just realising, Tyler pulls away, a gasp leaving his lips as he takes in the bundle of joy held gently in your arms. "Oh, she's even more beautiful in person." With both hands, Tyler carefully takes hold of your face, thumbs brushing away the falling tears before bringing you in for a chaste kiss, pouring all the love into the one moment. "You did so good, baby. I'm so fucking proud of you." With another kiss to your forehead, he then directs his attention back to your beautiful daughter, his forehead now resting against your own.

"I'm not going anywhere my darling girl. Daddy's home and he's going to give you all the love in the world. Me and your momma love you so much already." Both of you are now shedding tears as neither of you can take your eyes from the child you created together, finally able to be a family of three for the first time.

[seresinhangmanjake]

Daddy!Benny Cross x Momma!Reader

Your and Benny’s little girl gets injured playing on a bike and must go to the hospital. Benny doesn’t handle it well.

Warnings/Notes: mention of broken bones, cursing, angry but sweet dad Benny, protectiveness, typos, and I think that’s it.

Part of the Come Back Knockin’ universe. Takes place after Come Back Together and Together and More, but you don't have to read these beforehand to understand this fic.

Words: 1250

Benny Cross Masterlist

Benny’s going to lose his damn mind—that’s all you can think as you stand beside Wahoo in the hospital lobby, the both of you keeping sharp eyes out the wall-length windows to spot your husband. Facing him will be no easy feat and you need all the time you can get to prepare yourselves before he stomps through those doors. 

“Wahoo, I don't know about this. You really better go back to the meeting,” you encourage him, as you’ve done at least ten times in the last fifteen minutes. 

“Nah, I gotta stay and apologize to ‘im,” he replies. “But you shouldn’t have to wait here with me. You should go be with your girl.”

Your eyes scan the visible area from the benches in the flowered courtyard to the emergency sign attached to the building’s exterior brick before darting to the looped driveway reserved for ambulances. He’s nowhere in sight. But he will be soon enough. You called him—you peek at your watch—exactly twelve minutes and forty-three seconds ago. The shop is nineteen minutes away from the hospital and there’s no way he’s not speeding. 

“If I go, who is going to stop Benny from killing you?” you say, your heart hammering in your chest. 

You love your husband, but the man has a temper that can flare as easily as a swift strike of a match. He has started many short-lived fights, always requiring some patching up before the excitement finally settles down, but if Benny is given time to simmer, he can explode with an unrivaled rage.

Wahoo chuckles awkwardly, turning his head to look at you. 

“You got a point there, sweetheart,” he says. Then he goes silent amongst the background chattering of anxious families and ringing phone lines at the front desk.

You glance his way just in time to see the harsh bob of his Adam’s apple. 

“I won’t let him,” you promise. “You know…kill you.”

“Not sure you’re gonna be able to stop ‘im. You and the kid are the most important things in his world, and one of yous got hurt on my watch.”

A wince pinches your face at the memory and you’re so busy worrying about how the events of the next few minutes are going to unfold that you miss Benny’s entrance entirely. 

“What the fuck!” Benny shouts. It echoes throughout the room, making every head swivel, every conversation cease. 

As he storms closer, you step between him and Wahoo, your hands planting firmly on his chest. Murder is in his glare and though he could easily barrel through the barrier in his path, that would involve shoving you aside, and regardless of the circumstances, he would never do that.

Benny’s arm raises over your shoulder, finger pointed like a dagger toward his friend—well, enemy, at the moment. “What the hell you doin’ lettin’ my four-year-old on your fuckin’ bike!”

He tries to side-step you but you’re watching his feet, catching his movements before he can finish making them. 

“I’m real sorry, Benny,” Wahoo says meekly.

“Sorry? You’re sorry!” His tone is darker, fists clenching, anger overflowing and spilling onto the tiled floor. Without glancing at you, in a much softer—but still threatening—voice, he says, “Baby, move.”

You look up at him. Your hands slide from his chest to cup his cheeks in a failed effort to trap his attention. “Benny, it was an accident, ok? Alright? She was just playing pretend like she does with you and she wiggled out of his grasp and landed wrong,” you tell him. 

“I don't fuckin’ care if it was an accident.”

He’s so revved up, so locked in on his target, that your stomach twists for Wahoo. He’s been such a kind man and he’s so good with your daughter that he’s told you once or twice he wishes he could have one of his own someday.

When Lucy fell, it took all of two seconds for his visibly consuming guilt to settle in. He’d immediately picked her up, buckled her into your car, and followed you straight to the hospital where he has stressed over her injured state from the moment of arrival. He doesn’t deserve the abuse from Benny as if he was negligent. Benny, a man who regularly demonstrates little of his own self-preservation skills, but happens to go feral when his child so much as skins her knee. 

“Move.”

“Benny, please,” you say. “Honey, look at me.”

If you can get his eyes on you then he’ll be stuck to you like glue. He’ll calm down. The huffing and puffing of his chest will slow. 

And to your relief, when you stand up on your toes to invade his line of sight that is exactly what happens. The vengeance drains out of his face, replaced by a gentleness that only ever reveals itself to you and your shared child. 

“She’s fine,” you say. “She cried until the doctor gave her a sucker and now I’m not sure she even cares about her arm.”

Benny’s mouth dips into a frown. His brow pinches, then his teeth bite down hard on his bottom lip. “She got hurt,” he says, and your heart breaks for him.

You sigh. “I know.”

“I wasn’t there.”

“You wouldn’t have been able to stop it even if you were. It happened in a split-second,” you tell him. “You’re here now; that’s what matters. And wouldn’t you rather see her than argue?”

Benny’s exhale is a sharp release of air that subdues the remnants of his temper. “Where is she?”

You point to the double doors off to the side of the lobby. “Through there,” you say.

Benny swallows, nods, and takes your hand. But when he looks up, the glare resurfaces. “You're not gettin’ off,” he tells Wahoo. “I’ll deal with you later.”

As Benny pulls you along in the direction of your daughter, you quickly whisper to your friend, “I'll take care of it, but you ought to go.”

Wahoo’s smile is weak, never reaching his eyes, and his hands slip into his jeans pockets before he turns on his heel for the exit.

---

“Daddy!”

Lucy hops up from the floor where a few toys are scattered about from playing with the nurse in your absence. 

Benny plasters on a smile that barely conceals his agitation as he scoops her up in his arms. “You doin’ alright, nugget?”

“Mhmm,” Lucy hums, chipper as ever. “I finished my sucker. It tasted like grape.” She lifts her arm and Benny’s head jerks back to avoid a collision with his nose. “You like my cast?” 

You watch Benny struggle to come up with a positive reply, considering that within said cast is his little baby’s broken arm. “Y-Yea, Lu. It’s…It’s real great.”

“It’s blue!”

“I see that.”

The nurse chuckles as she rises from the floor and dusts invisible specks of dirt from her pristinely white uniform. “You’ve got yourself a lovely little girl,” she praises, tilting her head affectionately as he takes in the image of Lucy tucking her head into the crook of Benny’s neck. “The doctor says we’ll need to see you back here in six weeks.”

“Thank you.”   

She starts toward the door but pauses as she passes your daughter. “Goodbye, miss Lucy,” she says, her smile wide. 

“Bye, miss nurse!” With her good hand, Lucy gives an animated wave that the nurse returns as she closes the door behind her. 

Benny releases the sigh you’re pretty sure he’s been holding in since you called him. He cups the side of Lucy's head as if he could cradle her closer than she already is.

“You're not gonna be sittin’ up on any bikes for a real long while,” he says.

Lucy’s head shoots up, eyes widening in panic. “Nooo!” she whines. “You can't stop me!” 

“You wanna bet?”

“Yes!” she snaps back. “I…I'll do it when you aren't lookin'!”

Benny scoffs. "I'm not lettin' you out of my sight."

"I'll be real sneaky!"

The air of rebelliousness is all too familiar and it makes you snicker. Because despite the exhaustion of the day, despite the tears and the shouting and the drama that you hope will not reemerge later, all you can think as the bantering unfolds before you is that that little girl is definitely Benny Cross’s daughter.

---

Thanks for reading :)

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[aureatchi]

“I GET LOST INSIDE ALL THE STARS IN YOUR EYES, IT’S A GALAXY.” ft. dazai, chuuya, ranpo, nikolai, sigma

— how do the bsd men kiss you? (& other things.)

a/n. rev writes this knowing well she’s awkward w physical touch ‘n has never kissed a guy. hdjshsh.

info. fem!reader. fluff !! + a bit sugg. established relationships. kissing, making out. mentions of bsd s5ep11 spoilers for dazai. pinch of angst if you squint.

DAZAI loves to listen to you ramble. he loves listening to you pour out your mind’s lively ideas to him out loud, whether it’d be something super philosophical that could match even his intellect, or something insignificant like the tv show you were watching last night before you fell asleep, waiting for him to come home. he is fascinated by anything and everything you say—so much, he wants to shroud the part of your body that speaks with love.

Which, of course, applied when Dazai finally returned to you from Meursault, after what had seemed like himself or you trying to cross the infinite sea of time.

You ran towards Dazai, his face clear and unhidden from the full moon’s light. He stood there with the biggest smile on his face, waiting for you to wrap your arms around his neck and envelope his taller figure in your embrace, but oh, he shouldn’t assume and expect loving gestures so quickly.

Instead, he was met with a fist to his chest, a punch with quite some power packed into it. Not enough to actually hurt him, of course, but Dazai would react dramatically either way.

“O-Ow! Bella!? What was that for?”

He looked down at you, catching an emotion as intense as fire in your eyes as you met his concerned, honey-dipped ones back, realizing you were being serious. Your fist was still connected to his upper body, and he stole a quick glance to observe your state—good, she’s been taking care of herself; she hasn’t skipped her meals—before meeting your face once again.

You let him bathe in a few moments of anxious silence before you finally started shouting.

“You didn’t even warn me!”

“I had no idea where you were!”

“Do you know how scared I felt?!”

Dazai continued to stand in place, not backing away when you continued to throw feeble punches at his torso with every frustration you cried out, when tears started to fall from your eyes, and when you stopped boxing him to surrender into his chest but not holding your tongue just yet.

“You’re so stupid and insane for this one, Osamu. Prison?! And you couldn’t even get a telephone to…yknow? Call me? Talk to me? I hate y—”

“Shh.”

Dazai had cupped your face, and before you could speak anymore, he sealed his lips over yours. Immediately, you kissed him back, abandoning all anger toward him by his action.

His eyes were half-lidded as he admired how yours looked in the silver moonlight. Up close, you were encompassed in his signature smell of green tea and a hint of mint, tempting you to keep him close to you even more.

“I…missed you so much, ‘samu” you said in between kisses.

“I’ve missed you even more.” You were lifted off of your feet, legs wrapped around his waist, as Dazai continued to press his mouth onto yours. He meant what he said—he savored the feeling of your warmth on him and the taste of your lips once again after not having it for so long. And robbing you of the same bliss along with it.

“I’m so sorry. I’ll make everything up to you, love,” he whispered as your hands found their way to sift through his soft, brunette hair. “I’ll kiss you as many times as you wish.”

“I’m sure you will even when I don’t wish,” you replied as you both pulled away for air, chuckling. “You’re not sly—we both know you kiss me to shut me up.”

“And I don’t see a problem with it?” he asked, his usual smug smile returning to his face before he gently peppered your forehead next.

“No. No, I don’t either.”

CHUUYA loves to spoil you. the top mafia executive spoils you with gifts, jewelry, accessories, breakfast…lunch…dinner, you name it. he also loves to spoil you with affection. after long days at work, he is always relieved to come home to the one good and comforting person in the world.

“Welcome home, Chuuya!” you greeted as you heard the front door open, the ginger-haired entering the house.

“Whatever you’re making smells delicious, doll,” he responded in a delightful tone, probably the first time he spoke so pleasantly all day.

You smiled. “I just finished making dinner.”

He walked toward you in the kitchen, pulling you into a hug.

“What’s up?” you replied, giggling at embrace as you wrapped your arms around him in return.

“Just missed you, that’s all,” Chuuya replied. “ You’re heaven-sent, yknow.”

You felt touched by his words. “I missed you too, Chuu,” you replied. “And I’m glad you feel that way. You deserve the best, and that’s what I’m trying to be.”

“Doll, you are the best. And you deserve the best,” he responded.

“Like this.” He gently lifted the custom necklace clasped around you. It was his present for one of your anniversaries, brought from some foreign country.

“But you deserve even more than material things.” He moved hair out of your face as he looked into your eyes.

He then moved closer to your face until his lips brushed over yours, and you could feel the warmth of his face.

“Something like this,” he said and then kissed you.

Luxurious as he was, his cologne smelled the same, completely engulfing you in his world. Chuuya showed you just how much you deserved by trailing his hands down to your waist, soothingly adoring every part. Meanwhile, his cerulean eyes gazed into yours, recording how pretty you looked to save in his mind.

“You’re so beautiful, doll.”

He felt you smile against his lips. “And you’re so handsome.” You broke away and then took the hat off of Chuuya’s head.

“You’re like…the person who can pull off the fedora the best.” You placed the hat on your head, his scent even more prominent on that accessory.

“You say that, yet I think I have competition now. Y’look cute with it on too.” Chuuya smiled, approving you with his signature hat.

You placed a kiss on his cheek. “Let’s eat now before the food gets cold.”

RANPO was very high-maintenance. you had to buy him snacks, you had to give him hugs, you had to do anything in the best wishes of the world’s greatest detective or else…he’d whine. and once he started complaining, he would not back down until you gave in. yet, however childish he was, you found him cute and didn’t love ranpo any less for his call of your affection.

“Ranpo! What do you need?”

Your boyfriend had run into the bathroom where you were trying to do your makeup, currently putting lipstick on your face.

“ ‘m really hungry,” he said, obnoxiously staring at you apply the red shade to your lips.

“Hungry? Oh, the snacks are in the pantry. I thought you’d already seen them?”

“No! I don’t want them!”

“Huh?” You paused and immediately turned toward him in utter disbelief that he had just declined his favorite food.

“Are you okay, Ranpo?”

“No!” He was unanticipatedly so loud that you flinched, accidentally running the lipstick off your mouth.

“…You’re not looking for snacks?”

“No!”

“Then what do you want?!”

“You!”

There was an awkward silence, and you noticed Ranpo’s face had gone entirely the shade of your lip as he stood, pouting.

It was apparent he was embarrassed for what he just blurted out. You almost wanted to laugh.

“You could’ve just asked me!” you replied with a chuckle in your voice. “Come here.”

Ranpo trodded toward you, still visibly frustrated.

“What do you want?” you asked.

“Well, first of all, you didn’t kiss me before I left for work this morning!”

You sighed, amused that he was whining so much because of that. And how he would never directly admit what he wanted from you—always making you have to solve puzzles and guess riddles to figure him out.

But it was also incredibly endearing how Ranpo took all your affections toward him to heart, no matter how big or small they were.

“Awh, I’m sorry I missed that,” you replied. “I’ll make that up to you.”

You kissed Ranpo’s cheek, stamping a red signature on the spot. You moved to his other cheek, and then his forehead, and then everywhere in between until he was covered in your smooches.

“Look!” you turned Ranpo toward the mirror for him to see what art you’ve created on him.

“You’re forgetting one place,” he said, turning his face to look at all angles.

“Really? Where?” you asked. He surely didn’t need anymore—his whole face showed proof you touched him everywhere with your lips.

“Here stupid, duuuuh,” he responded, kissing you on the lips. He moved your back to the edge of the sink counter, and then lifted you up to sit on it.

“Hungry, are you?” you giggled as he teased you with his tongue. “I avoided that spot on purpose, stupid.”

“Who are you calling stupid, stupid?” He ran his thumb over the stain your lipstick messed up on. You could feel him smirk.

“You, stupid! It was your fault after all. And look at your face!”

“Sweetheart, if you’re calling me stupid, you are too. One, you’re just stupid, and two, you’re stupid for being with me!”

You pulled back, laughing. “If I must be stupid to be with you, then I guess I’m stupid.”

“There’s a solution! If you call me smart, it’ll make you smart.”

“Fine, Ranpo. You’re the smartest person I know in this world.”

NIKOLAI loves surprising you. he finds your sudden reactions nothing short of adorable. which is why he caught you off-guard so much, so that he could see the cute responses you made, duh? widened eyes, mini jumps, and yelps were a few things he oddly took delight in.

Which is why the jester loves to surprise you with a kiss whenever he greets you. Though, whenever he does, you receive no warning. And you never know whether he wants to give you a simple peck on the lips or a full-on makeout session. It was expected to always be unexpected.

You were walking down the hallway to your room with a basket of clean laundry when you suddenly heard the all-too-familiar cheery, charismatic voice.

“Dove being productive, hm?” he chirped.

You scanned the entire room with your eyes, but you couldn’t see Nikolai anywhere, even though there was nowhere to hide.

“Kolya?”

“Hehe…I think it’s time for a quiz time!! Where am I?

“Am I here?” You heard a swift movement to the right of you, but as you turned, nothing was there.

“Orrr, here?” Now, you felt something brush your left side, but once again, when you turned to look, you were greeted only by Casper.

“How about here?” His voice was suddenly quieter but closer, more intimate.

You felt his frame against your back.

“Kolya!” you jolted in reflex, dropping the laundry basket—not expecting Nikolai to appear right behind you—but then, he surprised you even more by turning your face to the side and crashing his lips into yours.

He was so tall that he could easily lean over you to kiss you from behind your back.

You made a muffled squeal, and in the next moment, Nikolai had you against the wall with your hands above your head.

He stared at you as if nothing else in the world mattered because he already knew the reaction he would get out of you. You felt so shy and vulnerable under his complete gaze, but Nikolai was also mean—he didn’t allow you to move an inch to save face.

He wanted to enjoy the full show.

“H-hey! You can at least blink…” you blurted out when he finally let your face go, though he immediately grabbed you again seconds after.

“Hm? What’d you say, dove?” he asked, kissing you again. Your cheeks were flushed, and your lips were so soft and tasted like candy—how could he not be greedy for more?

“You’re so cute, baby!” he exclaimed when he finally pulled back. You were panting—Nikolai showed no mercy when he wanted you to himself.

But you still smiled in return when he gently bopped you on the nose with his mouth, a stark contrast to what he just did.

“Ah, did I get carried away?” He only then noticed you out of breath. “Sorry, I just missed you so much!”

“It’s alright,” you replied, hugging him, the scent of strawberry cake lingering on his body. “Though, whatever happened to a hi; hello?”

“You’ll never get anything boring from me, dove,” Nikolai giggled. “That’s one thing I’m certain of.”

SIGMA treats you like the most precious thing in the world, a princess. you need your shoes tied? oh, he’s on the floor with the laces. you need to go somewhere? he’s driving you there. you want to visit the sky casino? he would rig all the games so that you’d win every time. sigma is sweet and polite—he would always make sure you are fine with something before going ahead with it.

“How about here? I think this is a nice spot.”

“Okay! Let’s set our stuff here then.”

You and Sigma set down everything you brought for your evening picnic on the hills. The spot he had pointed out was directly in front of the sun setting behind the mountains, its golden glow bathing the earth in the day’s final hour of light.

Once all the food was organized on the blanket, you took out a couple of ribbons from your pocket.

“Do you want me to help you?” Sigma asked as you tried to figure out where to put them in your already-styled hair without a mirror. He noticed your struggle.

“Oh! Sure,” you replied with a shy smile, and immediately after, he was behind you, taking the braids in your hair and tying the ribbons onto those.

“Thank you,” you replied when he was done, and when Sigma stepped back, he smiled in admiration.

“Of course.” He took your hand as you both sat beside each other.

“It’s so pretty here.” You turned to face the mountains, the sun halfway below the horizon. “You were right; this is the perfect spot!”

You looked back at Sigma, but it seemed like he paid no attention to the view at all. His eyes were only on you.

“…Sigma?”

“Y-you look really pretty,” he said, eyes not leaving once you made eye contact with him.

“…Can I kiss you?”

Immediately, you felt your heart melt because your lover was so innocent and lovely. You had been together for months, yet he was still asking for permission to kiss you.

“Of course, Sigma! We’re literally dating, you can kiss me whenever you want.”

“O-okay!” You giggled at his smitten reaction.

You closed your eyes and puckered your lips in a dramatic act of preparation.

It seemed you had been mistaken, though. Because, he had kissed you on the forehead.

“O-Ohh—oops, I thought you meant-”

But then, Sigma’s lips were over yours. His hand that wasn’t holding yours gently guided your face towards his. His touches were all tender, expressing how much he adored you.

You wrapped your own free hand around his neck, pulling him closer. You opened your eyes slightly to take a peek, seeing his own were fluttered closed under such pretty eyelashes, and his expression content, basking in your comfort.

It was as if you and him finally breaking away was the moon’s cue to rise. The sun had set entirely by the time you were done, shades of warm-toned colored clouds left as a trail.

“That was sneaky of you, Sigma,” you laughed, cheeks warm and your head a bit hazy from how everything in the setting was so dreamy. “You tricked me by going for my forehead first.”

“I wasn’t going to kiss you straight-up like that! It was intimidating, you just waiting!”

You laughed some more, seeing his own cheeks tint a light shade of pink. “Come on, let’s eat.”

if u rb this post, i heard that ur fav will kiss u tn! reblogs are cherished; they support me as a creator. <3

© aureatchi 2023. no reposts or translations. do not steal.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Break Up with Your Toxic Boyfriend (2 of 4)

John "Soap" MacTavish x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: brief discussion of verbal and emotional injury, briefly implied future physical injury, protective / possessive Soap, hand job, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl)

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series

You and Soap might no longer be together, but he is your "safe space", and you need to vent. While raging over the phone about your boyfriend, Soap arrives at your door.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // break up with your toxic boyfriend masterlist

The anger and hurt in your voice are the only fuel John needs.

You have no idea that he is already on his way to you, that he hooked your phone call up to his helmet. That, even now, John is on his sportbike zooming down roads and weaving around cars in an effort to get to you.

There is a fire under his skin. It burns away all other concerns. Every word you speak is a blown furnace, the destruction mounting until each utterance infuriates him further. This “boyfriend” of yours, the one you started seeing after the two of you broke up, deserves a fucking sharp punch to the jaw. He deserves missing teeth and broken bones.

Men like him aren’t men at all. They’re rubbish, only valuing women as objects, seeing them as their housekeeper and not their partner.

In his ear, you’re hardly taking a breath. Your words are a stream of consciousness, each word angrily pushing into the other until it’s a jumbled mess. John listens to it all, using that as motivation to get to you. It’s doesn’t fucking matter that you’re not his anymore.

John still cares. He still loves you. The need to protect and defend you is innate. One teary-laced word was enough for him to drop everything and head in your direction. Doesn’t matter that you and he ended things a bit messy. It was simply complicated. The two of you needed to work a few things out but broke it off because that was the easy thing to do.

He regrets that. He regrets not fighting. Not getting his shit together.

The engine revs, and John turns onto your street, almost throwing himself off his bike to get to your front door. In one hand he’s holding his helmet. In the other, he’s holding his phone, the device pressed to his ear as you keep talking. Reaching out, he pounds on the door.

You immediately pause on the other side of the phone. “There’s someone at my door,” you murmur, voice slightly distant.

“I know,” he replies. “It’s me.”

Silence on the other end. But then he hears it—the familiar click of a lock. Following that is your front door opening, revealing you.

The two of you stand there, staring at each other. Your momentary shock slips, dipping into confusion.

“What are you—” you begin but promptly stop as John pushes past you and into the flat.

“Is that fucker here?” John strides into the kitchen, placing his helmet down on the counter before ending the phone call and slipping the device into his back pocket.

“John.”

He glances down the hallway and then turns to you. “Is he here?”

You shake your head. “No. He’s not here.”

John’s chest heaves with relief, some of the tension receding.

“John,” you repeat, the concern in your voice enough to smother some of that fire burning beneath his ribcage.

“Did he hurt you?” he asks softly, approaching.

His gaze roams up and down your body, searching for signs of injury. There is none, at least not that he can see. That doesn’t mean there aren’t marks somewhere hiding beneath the clothes. The very thought fans the flames, charging John’s nerves until they crackle like lightening.

“No, Johnny. I’m fine.”

Johnny.

Only two people are allowed to call him that and one of them is standing right in front of him. The use of it, the way it falls from your lips, is enough to slightly quiet the anger. He sighs, expelling some of that smoky frustration. But then his gaze flicks to a spot just over your shoulder, and a new feeling emerges.

There are fist-sized holes in the wall. Four of them. Much too large to be your hands.

“What the fuck are those?” John’s voice drops as he nods toward them.

The sadness that forms on your features nearly rips his lungs from his body. John has never seen you like this. Never this defeated.

“They happened after,” you answer.

“After what?”

“The argument.”

You and John have had your fair share of arguments, but he’s never punched a wall. He’s never thrown anything or threatened you.

Never. Fucking never.

No. Fuck this guy.

“You’re breaking up with him.”

“What?” you ask, flustered by his sudden outburst.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” he murmurs. “Doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as you. To kiss your lips. To be in your presence.”

You deserve so much more than whatever this fucker is providing. Which is apparently nothing served alongside fist-sized gapping wounds in the plaster.

Your mouth opens like you’re about to reject the idea, but it’s not a suggestion. You are breaking up with him. You will leave him even if that means John doesn’t get to have you. That’s fine. That’s okay. He can live with that. What he can’t live with is knowing you’re with someone who treats you like rubbish.

He needs to get this off his chest, to make you understand that you are entitled to more.

“I listened the whole way here and you know what I heard?” He pauses and notices the slight quiver in your bottom lip. “That you’re unhappy. Have been for some time.”

You blink and fresh tears form there. John has to bite back the instinct to kiss them away. It’s what he would do if you were still his.

He licks his lips, a large sigh leaving him as he points over your shoulder. “He treats you poorly.” John’s hand slices through the air. “Walks all over you. Doesn’t answer you for hours and then gets angry with you when he finally makes contact.”

As John talks, even he can hear his voice thickening. This always happens when he gets worked up, and you’ve always playfully teased him about it.

“He’s a fucking waste of space.”

“John—”

“Break it off. And—fuck. If you can’t face him, then let me do it.” He places his hand on his chest. “Allow me to defend you.”

Your features soften and John wants to drink it in, to remember the way you’re currently looking at him. He remembers this side of you, the one that easily pierces him like a needle breaks skin. A look like this will put John on his knees if you ask him to.

“Johnny.”

He’s done. Gone. There is no coming back from this. Whenever you say his name like that, you’re either annoyed with him, wanting him to listen, or you’re just about ready to kiss him. It momentarily rips away all the thoughts in his head, leaving him temporarily mute before his brain can catch up again.

“Listen to me,” he says, gripping the sides of your face. “Get rid of him. I—I know you don’t want me but fucking hell. Don’t pick him. Don’t—”

John is silenced.

Not by your words leaving your mouth but from your lips pressing to his. It startles him—shocks him that you’re kissing him. Leaning into him. John responds, kisses you back, his tongue exploding with the remembrance of your taste.

But you’re still not his. You belong to someone else still and this isn’t right, no matter how much he fucking hates it.

“Stop, love,” he murmurs, pushing on your shoulders.

John loathes telling you to stop. To move away from him. Doing so is like fish hooks caught in the skin. He wants to reel you right back in, to taste your lips again, and fall into memory.

“I ended it,” you reply softly. “It’s over. That’s why there are holes in the wall.”

John pauses, his gaze growing serious. “What?”

You shake your head. “He didn’t like that I wanted him to leave. That I didn’t want to see him anymore.”

Your fingers dig into the back of John’s neck and that one touch is enough to dissolve his resolve about not kissing you into dust.

He closes the distance, and you welcome him in, opening beautifully.

“Am I your rebound?” he teasingly asks between kisses.

You laugh against his lips and kiss him again. “Why did I ever leave you?” Your question is a sad murmur tinged with a regret that leaches off your words and floods into his heart.

“Because I was an asshole.” He believes these words completely but you’re shaking your head.

“No,” you reply. “You weren’t. Never that.”

The kisses between you, which at first were soft, quickly develop into deeper passion, twining like a spool of thread around a bobbin. John drags you against him, tasting over and over until you are imprinted on his memory.

Your arms drape over the back of his neck to pull him even closer, and John snaps. That gentle resolve is gone. He needs you.

Reaching down to cup your ass, John lifts you off the ground until your legs naturally wrap around his waist. He knows where the bedroom is but that’s too fucking far. The desire writhing between and around his bones is a blood-beast. A feral thing that calls out for your skin against his.

Setting you down on the counter, John shoves his helmet out of the way. You’re already reaching for him, undoing the front of his pants, slipping in to palm him. The inhale you make when your fingers wrap around his cock is sweet and John breathes it in as if that one sound makes up his entire lifeblood.

Fuck. Fuck.

He’s going to taste you everywhere. His lips and teeth will mark your skin. His tongue will find a home between your legs. You’ll forget this fuckers name. He just needs a few hours and it’ll be his name you’re screaming.

You stroke him again, and John drags you right to the edge of the counter, intending to sink to his knees to worship between your spread thighs.

Your knees lock at his hips and with another stroke of your hand, you tell him what you want. “I need you inside me. I want to feel you.”

You ask so sweetly. He can’t say no. He doesn’t want to.

John helps you ease his pants down to his thighs. When he goes to undress you, he only finds underwear under that large, oversized shirt.

“Fuck, love.” John’s finger drags that fabric aside and he groans at the sight.

You’re already wet. Aching. Ready for him. Begging him to bury himself inside.

This one will be quick. It’ll be rough and he’ll probably fucking spill within a minute, but he has the whole night to take you over every surface in this flat, to make you writhe and moan beneath him.

Placing one hand on the counter and one on your thigh, John starts to ease in. Inch by inch, slowly, he disappears until there is nothing left for him to give. He has a perfect view of how you stretch around him. How you slightly clench and unclench, the pleasure of it shooting to the base of his spine.

“Don’t leave me,” you murmur as Soap begins to thrust into you.

“Never,” he replies, nuzzling the side of your face as you pepper him with kisses.

John anchors himself, snapping his hips, chasing the end just so he can get you back into that bedroom to do so much more.

“You’re mine,” he groans as your fingers dig into his skin, pulling him closer. “Always have been.”

taglist:

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[shinsmarlboro]

Shinichiro, whose lips you stole in a kiss on his birthday; since then he's thought of you and your strawberry lips, while he works, in his sleep, as he's cooking for his siblings. He can't get it out of his head. He doesn't know if it is because it was his first time kissing a woman, or maybe it went deeper - more intimate than that.

Shinichiro, who is usually composed when talking to you, now a stuttering mess when he greets you. You smirk and tease him for it, calling him adorable and he absolutely melts. He goes about the rest of his day with a dopey grin spread across his face.

Shinichiro, who cums in your fist after you give him his first non-solo handjob, his hand splayed over his flushed face to hide his embarrassment as he shivers. His moans are needy and breathless, in between them he says your name like a broken record.

“Shh… I'm here for you, Shin. Think you have more of it in you? You're so cute I just can't help it.” You lean in to kiss his cheek and then his lips, swollen from your excessive kisses.

Shinichiro, who you lie with beneath the covers where only you and he exist, naked along with limbs wrapped around each other. He savours the euphoria you give to him, relishing the feeling of being inside of you; you make him feel alive.

Shinichiro, who fumbles his words when you question him about the bouquet of roses in his grasp.

“These are for you…” He mutters, not looking you in the eye.

Your heart melts as you take the bouquet in your arms and lead him further into your apartment to properly thank him for his kindness.

Shinichiro, who takes you out on late-night motorcycle rides. Your arms wrap around him tightly as he revs off into the night like a mad man. He loves it when you hold onto him, your soft curves pressed up against his back and the light scolds that leave your mouth.

Shinichiro, whose heart sinks at the sight of you in the arms of another man, taking his place under the sheets just as he is about to tell you how he feels about you.

“I don't see why you're so upset,” You quip, shutting the door leading to your bedroom as you trail after him.

“I'm not good for you, Shin.” You peer at him through lashes, meeting his red-rimmed gaze. “I'm sorry.”

With that, you turn around and head back to your bedroom, crushing his heart in the process, stepping on it and tossing it back in his palms.

“Oh.” is all he mutters. “You..you can't tell me we were just friends that's…” The cracks in his voice ache your heart but you steel yourself.

He turns to look at you. A flash of disbelief and hurt spreads across his face, alongside frustration. “Did you even consider how I feel? When you…kissed me in front of everyone, did that mean anything?”

You tense when he puts you on the spot. The response you have for him remains trapped in the junction of your throat and you can only lower your head, remaining quiet.

A quiet scoff can be heard from him, followed by sniffles.

"I'm not good for you, Shin.” You peer at him through lashes, meeting his red-rimmed gaze. “I'm sorry.”

Shinichiro, whose fragile heart you crush beneath the weight of your painful departure, stands before your closed bedroom door unable to hold back his tears as he takes every ounce of his remaining strength to traipse out of your apartment building.

Likes & reblogs are highly appreciated ily

[tojisun]

was struck suddenly by this thought

okay biker!simon but he's got his shit together and he's hubby and you have a kid (2yo?) with him

in India, bikes are the primary mode of transport everyone has one and lots of the kids love love going on rides. my 2nd cousin (?) (relations are diff there) he's 2 years old and he's the cutest thing in the world and he will not sleep at night until his dad takes him out for a spin on the bike. he comes back all smiley and sleepy it's so fucking cute omfg

IMAGINE THAT WITH SIMON

( bikes aren't seen as dangerous in India bc literally every household has one and people will carry their babies on the bike. ik it's different elsewhere but I just cannot stop thinking ab simon going for a spin with his baby :((( )

love you, drink water sunny 👊

ur cousin not sleeping till he gets a ride is so cute omg :((( such a cutie pie 🥺

but no absolutely!! i feel like biker!simon would spoil his kids sm that they get demanding when he doesn’t get to take them out on a ride

thinking about your little two year old girl waiting patiently in the living room while her dad washes up (simon closed the shop today), with her little helmet already strapped in. the tv is on for reruns of cartoons but she’s distracted, squirming at every drop of sound, thinking it’s simon finally out of the shower.

you chuckle as you rub her back, trying to make her calm down, but you guess her exhaustion and excitement are finally mixing, making one whiny baby. you pitch forward to press a kiss on her little fist.

that, at least, makes her look at you.

“excited, little pea?” you ask, brushing your thumb on the apple of her cheek.

“mhmm!” she says before turning back to her cartoons.

what a blessing she is.

simon pops out of the corner just then, crooning, “ready to go, peanut?”

your daughter squeals, scrambling to get off the couch to run towards simon. simon laughs, crouching down and opening his arms to embrace her, but she’s barrelling into him too fast, unable to stop, and it knocks her helmet against his chin.

“jesus–”

“daddy, go!” is all what your daughter says, so impatient and spoiled, and simon just coos again, finding no fault in her little demands.

“of course, of course.” he stands up. “let’s say bye to mommy?”

you stand then too, moving close to them carefully. your beloved angel turns at hearing simon’s words, her pudgy cheeks now rounder with her smile. “buh-bye!”

“bye bye, darlin’,” you reply, kissing her little fist again. “have fun with daddy, yeah? tell him to ride carefully because he’s got my whole world with him.” this you say to simon, playful and teasing.

simon scrunches his nose in reply—fatherhood looks so beautiful in him.

“don’t worry, love. y’know i’ll do everything to keep her safe,” he murmurs, pressing close to breathe you in. “we’ll be home in twenty. see you then.”

you kiss his jaw. “see you then, baby.”

your little angel waves her goodbyes again before they disappear to the garage, simon’s quiet murmurs filling up the space while your daughter hums in replies, still not yet ready for much words.

simon hefts himself up and places her in front of him, making sure that her helmet is secured and her jacket’s all zipped up. it is a quiet routine, one that simon completes with ferocious intensity. he’s never once skipped out on this, never once had been lazy with it, and it makes your heart warm.

he looks up after his final check, turning to you with one last wave, before he’s snapping his visor down and revving the engine. then they’re off.

later, simon will come back with a slumbering princess in his arms. you two make a quiet work on removing her helmet and her shoes, before simon takes her to sleep. then, he’ll slide in beside you, pull you in for cuddles, before recounting their little adventure to you.

-

IM SORRY THIS BECAME A RAMBLE AND ITS NOT EVEN ABOUT THE BIKE RIDE BUT ITS JUST :((( dad simon is so so precious

love you too vi and yes im gulping down rn as i type!!

[braindeadmaggot]

🌚

It literally said "Now accepting curious anonymous messages 🌚"

Is that all you got???

Also today is a waxing gibbous so you have failure twice 🌔

[tenjikyu]

So! My birthday's coming up here soon, and as you know, I am very obsessed with tokyo revengers. Therefore, here is my first request to you :)

How about headcanons on how mitsuya, sanzu, angry, smiley, and mikey would celebrate reader's birthday? preferably romantic but platonic is okay too. If you don't want to write all of them, you can choose a few to get rid of. These guys are my favorites so I couldn't not include them ♡

Sorry if there's not a lot of info to go off of!

— 🎭

𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴!

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ multiple x gn!reader, excessive fluff and humour, we love the toykorev boys they’re adorable, i hope you like ghibli because it’s referenced in angry’s.

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ happy birthday !! it took me a hot minute bc i needed to re-remember the tokyo rev characters and their personalities but i’m back on track now people. i was worried about getting this out late so i ended up removing smiley from the request but i did my best for everyone else(i’m very sorry 😭). I REALLY HOPE YOU GET THIS BEFORE YOUR BIRTHDAY AND IF NOT, HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY 🎭 ANON

takashi mitsuya.

༄ takashi could NEVER EVER let your birthday JUST be your birthday, he always does something extra special for you on your special day.

༄ it starts off with a special birthday morning call, an online kiss and a promise to take you out at 10:00.

༄ mitsuya lets you enjoy a nice breakfast with your family if you wish to, and comes to pick you up after you’ve gotten ready for the day ahead!

༄ pulling up on his motorcycle, he gives you your special helmet (that he chose in your favourite colour), and takes you for a morning bike ride around the city.

༄ he eventually leads you to a serenic park with good shade and sun leaking through the trees.

༄ no matter if your birthday takes place in a warm or cold season, mitsuya makes the best of a picnic in the park! he brings beverages and home baked goods that his sisters helped make just for you!

༄ mitsuya is the type to make something personal and thoughtful, so i believe a birthday gift from him would include a heartfelt letter, special chocolates, and a crochet stuffed animal with a bow on it! he prides himself in his efforts, seeing the huge smile on your face as you open your special gift.

༄ he takes you back to his home, in which you’re overrun by his younger sisters who were elated to see you. you’re their favourite person (besides their big brother), so it was hard to wrangle them off of you.

༄ mitsuya makes you your favourite dish as a birthday dinner, where all four of you sit down and ramble on about your day, as well as anything that comes to the two girls minds.

༄ as the end of your birthday approaches, luna and mana have to be pried off your leg with whines begging you to stay the night. once you’re out the door however, mitsuya tells you he wants to walk you home.

༄ once he drops you home, he kisses you goodnight and makes sure you’re in doors before he walks off, silently fisting the air in success on your special day.

manjiro sano.

༄ i don’t think mikey would forget your birthday, but i can totally see him leaving plans to the last minute. he’s not a very organised soul after all.

༄ at the ripe time of 7:00 in the morning, you’re promptly awoken by a knock on your window. to your surprise, manjiro was wide awake (which is a rarity) and informs you that you will not be attending school today, but instead going on a “birthday adventure” with your “beloved boyfriend”.

༄ thankfully your family was planning to give you the day off regardless, so you rush to get ready (in your tired state as it is), and head out to meet up with your blonde boyfriend.

༄ as you walk out the door, you’re incased in a bear hug by mikey, as he excitedly shows off the silly little flowers he (didn’t) pay for. they were your favourite flowers, and they didn’t seem cheap, however you decided against bringing it up and enjoyed the fresh scent in the early breeze.

༄ much like mitsuya, mikey takes you for a drive, however this is because he’s taking you to an all-you-can-eat-buffet! manjiro tells you it’s because they have good breakfast & lunch choices, however you know it’s an excuse to stuff his mouth.

༄ regardless, the both of you enjoyed a nice breakfast together, before manjiro takes you onto the next phase of the birthday date.

༄ you’re surprised when he pulls up to the local aquarium, with two premium tickets in hand. by premium, you mean you get an exclusive front row seat for any show you wish to see, as well as close access to certain life living there.

༄ walking around the aquarium, manjiro sneaks cute pictures of you looking into the glass and admiring the life around you, from the illuminated jellyfish to the dolphins exhibit, your boyfriends eyes hardly left your face, making sure your smile lingered.

༄ after the end of the date, you head over to the little souvenir shop, where mikey buys you a plushie of your choice. of course, you attempt to deny but he won’t let you.

༄ by the end of your date, manjiro drops by his home so you can see his sister. elated, emma jumps into your arms and welcomes you in, where she makes everyone a special dinner for you all.

༄ on the drive back to your home, manjiro silently thanks whatever being graced his life with your presence, even when your fast asleep on his shoulder with drill beginning to dribble.

angry.

༄ a gentle soul like angry has everything planned out. he has his brother give him his honest (and brutal) opinions on how to make this the PERFECT date.

༄ your day starts off usually, your family celebrates your birthday and gives your your presents and a good breakfast, you get ready for school and you get a sweet good morning call from your beloved boyfriend.

༄ as you leave your house, you see angry parked outside your home, and he tells you that he’s gonna be your personal taxi driver to school today!

༄ like a true gentleman, he wraps your arms around his torso and gives you a helmet to protect yourself, he waves your family goodbye and sets off to your school.

༄ as the school day passes you by, you get another message from the man of the hour, letting you know he’s gonna take you out for the remainder of the day.

༄ you wave your friends goodbye, and meet up with your boyfriend, who greets you with his signature frown.

༄ as you ride around, you soon find yourself in what seems to be a ghibli café. you smile in excitement, rushing in to see what it looked like inside.

༄ a massive totoro plushie greets you, and you see all the ethereal artwork studio ghibli offers hung across the walls.

༄ you sit down with your boyfriend, and order some themed food based on your favourite movies. you see howls moving castle themed furniture, a no-face holographic hovering around, the production of ponyo explained on a little TV, as well as a little kiki on her broom flying around the café.

you get heaps of photos, however you boyfriend only admires the look of admiration on your face, knowing how hard it is to reserve a seat in this café.

after you enjoyed your meal, he takes you home once again on his bike, driving safely (for once) and drops you home, but not before gifting you a keychain of no-face you were admiring from the souvenir shop.

༄ your smile increasing in size, you clip it to your bag, before ksiing angrys cheek goodnight and running in doors.

haruchiyo sanzu.

༄ sanzu is a “actions speak lourdes then words” kinda dude, so he takes you out on a date to the museum!

༄ he wakes you up via ringing the doorbell, and being invited in by your mother (who dearly loves your boyfriend).

༄ sanzu shares a breakfast with your family, takes photos with you and then lets you go get dressed for your little date.

༄ as you enter into the museum, you see all sorts of preserved artworks and sculptures in your line of sight, filling your vision to the brim.

༄ regardless of this being your forté or not, the museum never fails as a good date spot.

༄ you go from room to room, carefully in taking all the information on the little plasters. from painting to painting, you find yourself immersed and drawn in, all the while your boyfriend held onto your hand.

༄ sanzu allowed you to go at your own pace, not caring much for it but knowing it was entertaining you, so it was enough for him.

༄ tugging him around like a dog, you find yourself in the museum for hours before you leave the premises. sanzu asks if you enjoyed yourself, and you giddily replied you loved it.

༄ you didn’t know it at the time, but he sniped a cute photo of you looking at a large painting and made it his personal background for his phone, admiring it as he took you to lunch.

༄ after lunch, sanzu informs you that he has business to attend to, but regrets it as soon as the dejected look crossed your face, hoping to spend the full day with him.

༄ without hesitation, sanzu lets you know it’s quick business that shouldn’t take an hour or so, and drops you off at a mall with your friends to enjoy yourself, and lets you know he’ll pick you up to drive you home.

༄ as the evening sets and you wave your friends goodbye, sanzu meets up with you. you rush into his arms, and he holds onto you dearly.

༄ he takes you in a late night drive as a way to make up for missing out on part of your day, however you reassure him that it’s nothing and allow him to ramble, something he rarely does.

༄ as he drops you home, you place a gentle kiss to his nose, and tell him you’ll see him later, leaving him slightly flustered.

༄ what have you done to him.

[reverieblondie]

Rev what do we think about the bachelors and drunken hookups? I’m thinking a lot about drunk fucking and awkward mornings after…

Thank you so much for sending this ask! I love getting these! I didn't write all the bachelors but I did write my top three (if you have one I didn't do that you want to know, just ask me) I hope you enjoy! Warning unedited and minors do not interact!

Rolan thoughts first, So we all know he has a that grumpy side...but when he tells you not to be greedy... that just confirms in my mind he is a flirtatious drunk. His prudish nature is out the window as he's gently running his hands over your thighs and whispering filth in your ear, he has so much he wants to show you, prove to you. By the time you two are stumbling into the room his tail is on your waist as his hands are eagerly stripping away his clothes. Rolan will try to keep his intensity as he's giving you sloppy kisses but your still hearing those whispered whimpers he just can't help from slipping. Passion and sweaty is the best way to summarize it as he rolls his hips deeper and deeper his face so close to yours as he pants and grunts for you telling you how long has wanted this, how much he's wanted you. And he will even slip telling you how he's thought about you all alone in his office fucking his fist to the thought of you. The next morning Rolan is groany and achy as he rises from his bead but before he can fully get up he turns to see you laying their wrapped in his sheets and his red tunic. Rolans first instinct is to wake you and ask you if you want coffee or tea, but before he can figure out the words in his mind and a plan your arm is wrapping around his waist with a sleepy morning from your lips and he just can't help but melt into the hold and cuddle you for the rest of the morning. Coffee can wait.

Gale is a complete sweetie as a drunk but he is definitely a rambler, Gale would be talking your ear off about any and everything as you just sit there listening to him with practical hearts in your eyes. Though I think Gale is going to need you to lead to tell him how you want him, and Gale who has been wanting this forever is more than eager to follow you with a giddy grin. Gale is passionate so he's going to take his time with you, once he gets you to his room his lips are on your neck as he slowly strips away your clothes. His hands gently running over your arms and down your stomach as he talks to you telling you all about how he admires you. Gale lays you down slow and kisses all over your body, and it is my personal HC that tipsy Gale wants to clench his thirst with your sweet cyprine. Gales tongue lazily licks your sex before wrapping his lips around you and hums, just to make you arch. Gale is about your pleasure drunk or not and his not stopping till you've cummed on his tongue at least twice. If you should happen to want more he is more than willing. The next morning Gale is up before you with water and medicine for any possible headaches. Gale is so sweet and kind to you as he carefully caresses you and sees if you two can make plans for the day. Such a romantic.

Zevlor even while drunk is still a complete caregiver type, though he does have more confidence to his gate as he swings down a drink and purrs out old stories from his past. Its a look that you both share that ultimately leads you going home together. As soon as your through the door your being picked up as your legs are wrapped around his waist as he guides you to the bed, though...your not making it to the bed. Zevlor has your hands wrapped around his neck his lips on your neck as he keeps thrusting into you as you stay pinned against the wall. Your too blissed out to think turning into a moaning mess and Zevlor has reverted to speaking infernal as he groans from the feel of you around him. Zevlor is going to give you everything he can and do it everywhere he can before you two are finally make it to the bed. While in bed Zevlor is all about your comfort as he holds you in his warm embrace from the rest of the night, his cock still buried with in. The next morning you wake up to the smell of eggs and bacon. The kitchen is an amazing sight of Zevlor shirtless over the stove as he hums while cooking, once you make your presence know he will be back to his usual shy smile and a sweet good morning. Please just go over and give him a kiss to help build up his confidence that it wasn't just a one night fling.

[carolmunson]

okay, since some of you asked for it:

unpopular opinion but i don’t actually think eddie was a nice soft boy at all. dustin and mike are literally afraid to ask him to move hellfire. ‘he’s always revved up,’ implying that he’s always like this, always a little close to snapping. he’s not nice to them when he asks them to find a replacement. he also guilt trips them about 'taking them in like lost sheep' and shoves them off to find a replacement instead of keeping lucas included. which is why i don't understand the 'fierce protector of his friends' take because he's so quick to drop lucas just because he's 'moved to the dark side.' aka, throwing balls into laundry baskets.

which leads me to when he gets up on the table, people are not trying to fuck around with him. this is a common occurance, people are not surprised to see him up there and yelling. they aren't surprised that he's making a spectacle of himself. if eddie was soft and sweet, he would’ve gotten beat up. if eddie was soft and gentle, he'd probably be scared of jason. guys like jason in the 80s loved being macho and punching out losers — eddie just gave him the devil horns and called it a day. eddie’s absolutely gotten in fist fights before and won (his dad is a literal criminal!) otherwise someone would've thrown something or told him to shut the fuck up. people are scared of him, even his own friends! there’s more reasons than just playing DND and metal that make town certain that he’s a cult leader. you don't just assume someone is a murderer if they haven't shown any interest in violence before, especially considering his dad was likely a shitty dude. he even bullies erica when she first shows up to hellfire and only respects her when she bullies him back and bests him. he is someone you have to EARN respect from. he will never respect anyone outright or be understanding outright. he doesn't fully respect dustin or mike to start either, he views them as underlings.

even chrissy assumes he's going to be mean and scary, there's gotta be reason behind that. he's not nice or kind in school, which is likely a defense mechanism. he’s sweet with chrissy because he likes her, he has a crush on her. it’s very clear that he has since he was a kid, otherwise why would he bring up them hanging out in middle school? why would he even remember that if he hasn’t been pining for her this whole time? he admits too, albiet flirtily, that he thought SHE'D be mean and scary too, because he doesn't like people 'like that', people he assumes are 'on the dark side'. i’m sure he hoped they’d kiss a little when she went to his trailer. he's even a little sarcastic when she's there, again, defensive. 'the maid took the week off'. but ultimately, he's nice to her because he wants to kiss her and has a crush on her. i don't think it's because he's fully 'showing her who he really is'.

also he's a literal drug dealer????? like?????

he only becomes more gentle and open with dustin and co. when he gets pulled into the upside down/vecna stuff because he needs support. they grow a bond over shared trauma. and i do believe eddie had a big brother type relationship with dustin, but just like steve he loves him begrudgingly 'i love you, you little shit bag' kind of shit. i do believe he liked and cared for his friends but i also think he always had a big layer of mean kid armor on because he had a hard life growing up. how i percieved the character is 'mean bully whose secretly nice but is mean and boisterous and loud as a cover' trope. when he explains that his father taught him to hotwire, he seems bitter about it. of course he is, all the other kids were learning to play ball. but he obviously still retains this information and a whole bunch of other crime tricks from his dad. he's BEEN partaking in this shit. he KNOWS he's a shitty guy. you don't just get taught how to hotwire once and then suddenly know how to do it years later. he's done it before! multiple times! he has practice! he likely knows about warzone cause his daddy absoLUTELY had a gun or two. his dad probably took him there once. he was pulled left and right into bad shit growing up and that will HARDEN YOU. wayne says that murder 'ain't in his nature' and i'm sure it's not. i'm sure he's different with wayne, but idk, to me, it doesn't erase the fact that outwardly, i don't think eddie was nearly as sweet and gentle as people think he is canonically. i think he's a very hardened and tortured person and that even becomes clear with his reaction to chrissy's death and how he goes about things going forward. he was a weird kid with weird interests in a cookie cutter conservative town, had a criminal father, and an unconventional family situation in the 70s and 80s, that shit'll fuck you up and over -- look at boomers y'all! they are emotionally stunted! but, i could go on forever with this character analysis. so i'll stop here. but -- in the words of the real housewives reunion meme: that's MY OPINION!

[softshuji]

𝟎𝟖:𝟐𝟓𝐀𝐌 | 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐌𝐀 𝐒𝐇𝐔𝐉𝐈

Title: It's not like you're in love with him….right? 

Summary: You're not in love with him, despite how much you might want to be, despite how much he might love you. Reblogs Appreciated!

cw: fem! reader, some suggestive content but nothing too much, pet names (babe, doll, pretty girl), mutual pining, canon typical violence, reader and shuji are sickeningly in love. A little smth for Valentine's cos i'm a sap. Back to masterlist here.

You’re not in love with Hanma Shuji. You’re never under any impression that he can be anything other than what he already is, that his name alone speaks volumes anyway.

It feels sometimes, as if he has fooled everyone but you, as if you are the only person his charm has not lulled into stupefied affection. You listen sometimes, padding around the kitchen as he takes the call to Kisaki in the other room, his feet thrown up over the armrest of the sofa, a cigarette dangling unlit between his lips and a t- shirt that hangs lazily over his body, the sinew of his muscle peeking through the collar. 

You like him best like that. Unguarded, unaware, stripping back the blithe mask that he presses to his face every morning, as confidently as he dons the suit, the clean and sharp lines of his shirt tucked into even sharper dress pants.

You wonder if he practises it, the cloak he wears as armour, the easy smile, the grin that’s always quick to come and always with a promise of some mischief or another.

You like that side of him too, unpredictable and chaotic, with the zing of energy that bounces from his skin and you know, in those moments of his excitement, you would go anywhere with him, that he could buoy you along and carry you, drag you even, to hell and back.

You wonder if he knows that a simple grin has the blood in your veins pulsing in time with your pattering heart, if he knows that you reach for him at night when it’s colder than normal and his skin is warm and you can only think of the feeling of him as you slip into sleep.

But you’re not in love with him. That much is certain.

You like him when he laughs, big and beautiful and swallowing the light in the room and sometimes he’ll throw his head back and the curls will fall across his forehead, just shy of his nose and your hand will twitch with the need to brush them back, to linger on his cheek for the barest of moments, just to feel the heat, the delicious ache of being close to him. And maybe the copper flash of his eyes will fall on your wrist and flit to your lips and a hand will come out to grab you by the throat or waist, your heart punching a raucous tune against your ribs. Yes perhaps you have thought about kissing him, more than once. Perhaps you have thought about needily biting down on his lips, sliding your tongue along his and fisting the collars of his pressed shirt as he hums into your mouth. 

So what? It’s nothing new, he’s an attractive man and you’re under no illusions about the queues and lines of women who not only think the same but would trade anything for the opportunity of a single night of his time. 

You try to resist the urge to reach for him in the darker moments, a call away that you’re not sure he’d answer anyway, and fail spectacularly when you thumb through your contacts and your finger catches on a candid shot of him messing with a camera, the usual feline grin softened into something more tender. 

‘Something wrong Doll? You don’t usually call at this time,’ he says and you hear the revving of an engine behind, the squeal of tires and purr of his motorbike.

‘I’m sorry, I just missed you is all. I can’t sleep.’ It’s not entirely a lie, or a truth either but you think it’ll suffice and you hope he doesn’t detect the needy whine in your throat that always accompanies the furious heat across your neck when you’re this clingy with him. It’s out of your hands for the most part, inevitable. You wonder if he knows that too.

‘Mmh.’ And the drone of the bike peters off into something more smooth, the whoosh and whistle of wind spilling down the receiver. ‘You wanna come for a drive? You can give her a spin with me.’ 

You like that about him too, the ease with which he carries you with him, lifts and takes you, clutching onto his torso and burying your cheek against the shifting muscle of his back as he drives, often silently, a hand reaching for your wrist to draw a faint circle on. He never mentions it, and you like that too, that it is so effortless to exist with him, in this bubble he has made that has shunned anyone who isn’t him. 

But you’re not in love with him, you know that. 

You like him when he teases, and the hot flush of embarrassment makes a steady crawl towards your ears, creeping along the hairs on your arm. He likes that he can draw such visceral reactions from you like that, that the sliding of his hand along your thigh or the domineering way he grabs your chin to look at you when he knows you’re lying is enough to make you crumble under the weight of his gaze. And perhaps he’ll swipe his thumb along your lip and watch you frown and attempt to break his stare, sighing defeatedly when he tuts under his breath and tightens his grip. He likes that you’ve so willingly placed your life in his calloused hands, the scars brushing against your cheek. He likes you most like that, laughing, the heat of your nerves warm under his palms, the jump of your heart in your veins and still, choosing him above all things. 

Because he knows. 

He knows he’s rough and his words cut hard enough to make you bleed, that he’s unpredictable at the best and worst of times, that (in his own words) he is unstable, and not the rock you need. He’s unapologetic about it and you like that and maybe he likes that you like it, that you accept him enough not to question the chaotic part of himself that has only grown as he sprinted into adulthood over the years.

If he was more honest with himself or others, maybe he could admit he’s in love with you. 

But Hanma Shuji is not an honest man, and you’re under no illusions about what that could mean for you, and the inevitable heartbreak you know is coming should you take that leap of faith. It explains more than half of your caution, and you try not to let it get to you when he stumbles into your apartment in the middle of the night with a slash across his toned stomach and glassy eyes, his cuffs stained with blood that you can’t be sure isn’t his.

‘You can’t keep doing this Shuji babe,’ you say, a cotton gauze held to the red welling on his lip and your own trembling with the effort to hold yourself in check.

He frowns, the slip and slide of his perfect throat disappearing beneath the open collar of his stained shirt before grinning wildly, catching your wrist in one bloodied hand.

‘Mhm, you don’t like being my pretty little nurse anymore?’ But it stings in a way that has nothing to do with the antiseptic drying on his skin and he’s trying to sate the pain by rubbing circles onto your palm but you’re hurt, and he sees the wobble of your lip pulled by your teeth.

‘That’s not it.’

‘Then what is?’ He knows of course, he just wants to hear it, that you can’t run towards him anymore, that you don’t love him enough to hang onto him like dead weight and maybe he’ll be able to down some drinks and get over it but he needs to hear it.

‘I’m scared Shuji,’ you say and it hurts to speak under the weight of his stare. ‘I’m scared that one day you’re not coming back to me.’ 

You remember once, a long time ago in the early days of your relationship, the first time you had seen the nicks and bruises and cuts that graced his body, lashes of ridged scars on his back and chest that you had tentatively touched and you had wondered what he had seen and done to hurt like that. As you had run a finger over the slightly raised skin, he had caught your wrist and bent to kiss your palm, his eyes closed, the curve of his lashes spreading over the sharp cut of his cheekbones.

‘Best not to get attached’, he says, as if he has not spent the better part of the last few weeks waiting for an excuse to call you, to bombard your phone with messages, to turn up bloody and ragged at your door with a grin that he knows you’ll melt for. He knows it could end any day now. Maybe he won’t make it to your door, maybe you can’t fix him this time, maybe he isn’t half as heroic as you believe him to be.

‘C’mere pretty girl,’ he says this time, because he can’t make an empty promise to you again and it hurts enough as it is to watch the tears pool in your eyes knowing if he’d let you go, you’d have one less reason to cry.

So instead he pulls you onto his lap and holds you and for a second, a moment in time, he is not a gangster with blood on his hands. He is just a man who loves a girl. And maybe he likes you a little too much and he’s just as worn as the scuffs on his cigarette tin and you’re just pure and good and sweet and pretend not to see the stains on the cuffs of his shirt but for one night he wouldn’t mind sating his insatiable appetite with you, wouldn’t mind forgetting who he is and what he’s done just to taste the promise of you with his hands.

He wonders if this is what love is, if this tightness that borders on pain in his chest is what the shitty poets talked about. 

As much as you hate to admit it, there’s a certain level of pride that comes from being the one he looks for in the moments between, when he’s delirious with pain and murmuring profanities into your skin and you cup his face so gently, and brush the curls matted with blood from his forehead and press your lips to his nose and he’s closer to saying the three words than he’s ever been.

You like him in those softer moments. The blanket is too small for his frame and his legs dangle off the edge of the sofa, his lips are parted, an arm thrown over his eyes as the heating whirs in the background. A gauze is taped haphazardly to the gash in his stomach, the thin sheen of sweat glistening under the lamplight and a bottle of painkillers discarded somewhere, rolling on the floor. It’s how he always is. Bustling into your house, into your life, the chaotic frenzy dragging you along with him. Perhaps if you loved him any less you might be able to talk about it more.

So yes. Yes he’s beautiful, strikingly so. Yes he is funny beyond a doubt and a single grin from him is enough to have the nerves coiling tight in your stomach relaxing on instinct, and yes you think there will never come a day when you do not look for him at night, but you know that’s all it is.

After all, it's not like you're in love with him…right? 

a/n: I have nothing to say except I would eat the sun for him. Happy Valentines to the light of my eyes, the heart of my heart.

taglist: @reiners-milkbiddies @mxnjiros @prettyiolanthe @sugusshi @snakegentleman @haitaniapologist @lonnie19 @nafarsiti @bejeweled-night-33 @rinnndoll @the-travelling-witch @orchid3a @rottingreveries @qiiuusoup-xo @hoetani @sinfulseashell @welcome-to-the-internet-it-sucks @obitohno @sweet-seishu @burnishedcrown @saintokkotsu @nikokopuffs @sin-and-punishment @deskaisers @mochimiyaas @bertholdts--butt @theaonlax @blackfire2013 @wotakuhime @severellamahottub @anxious-chick

Send an ask or dm to be added! And if you saw this earlier, no you did not!

[cap-winter-barnes]

HEY QUEEN! i had this idea for a fic… angsty, could also be fluffy and maybe smutty? 👀 anyway, like in the original twisters, reader goes to try and get tyler to sign divorce papers and ends up chasing him around with tornadoes. then maybe she almost dies in one with him, like the pool scene, or she gets hurt? either way, they fall in love again, etc etc. !!!

Sign Your Life Away (Tyler Owens x Reader)

Warnings: mentions of blood, mentions of sex, Tyler Owens (need I say more?)

It had been a while since you'd last visited your home state of Oklahoma, and it wasn't without trying, your life has just been a whirlwind of drama for the last few months. Your job had been even more demanding than usual with all of the unforeseen tornadoes smattering the map, one after another.

You are expecting this visit to be short and sweet, in and out, back to your apartment in Los Angeles. The divorce papers you have been carrying with you for quite some time, tightly fisted in your hand as you approach the growing mass of tornado chasers. Despite hoping that your soon to be ex-husband would be here upon your arrival, you soon realise that his little media circus is still awaiting the appearance of the world famous "Tornado Wrangler".

With a racing heart, you perch yourself onto the bonnet of your rented truck, boots balancing on the bumper guard. It may have been months since you last wore your wedding band but you still feel the ghost of the metal that once adorned your left hand whenever you think of Tyler Owens. Tears long dried out for the man, you take a deep breath as you prepare to see him for the first time in a long time, and hopefully for the last, you're ready for a new, fresh start in LA.

The rev of an engine brings you out of your thoughts, the blaring sound of a rock country track blaring through the air familiar to your ears. This was yours and Tyler's song. Keeping your position on your truck you watch as the Tyler's Ram speeds into the lot. You let the media crowd have their fun, surging and cheering for the arrival of their 'star'. Music still playing loudly you can't help but smile as you watch the one and only Tyler Owens soaking in the spotlight. Yet what surprises you is the false smile on his face, there's a dullness in his eyes that you can see from just watching from afar.

As you take in the sight of him, he notices you. He freezes as he makes eye contact, the smile completely disappearing from his face. A quick whisper to Boone and his crew has the crowd disperse with the promise of T-Shirts, signed merch and food to encourage them. Tyler makes a beeline for you, his confidence stride has you nervous.

"It's been a while, Baby Girl." He tips the brim of his Stetson towards you, a sad yet welcoming smile crossing his face.

"I'm not your Baby Girl anymore, Owens." You jump down from the hood, quick to press the worn papers into his chest. "Sign 'em." Before you can pull away, he has his hand around yours, holding you close to his body.

"You know neither of us want that, right?" Swallowing back a retort you meet his eyes, drowning in his hazel pools. "C'mon, Y/N." The pleading in his voice and face have your heart questioning everything.

"Tyler, it'll never work."

He breaks the eye-contact first and you swear you see the glisten of tears in his eyes. "It was good while it lasted, Owens. But we both want very different things."

"Ju-"

"Sign the papers, please. I'm staying in El Reno, come by the motel tomorrow and drop them off."

Without another word you turn your back on the man you used to love, truck door now between you both, you take one more look at Tyler as you see his heart breaking in front of you all over again.

"Okay. If this is what you want."

*The Next Evening*

You're not shocked that Tyler is late to drop off the divorce papers but why do you not feel disappointed that he never showed? Just as you are about to leave to set off back for home, there's a loud knocking at the door. With a sigh you open the door to be suddenly met with Tyler standing dishevelled and soaking with rain in front of you.

"We need to leave, now!"

The panic in his voice is enough to put your trust in him.

"Ty?"

"We need to move, now! I'm serious, let's go." He holds his hand out to you and without a second thought you place yours in his. As you make your way out of the motel room, you notice the chaos erupting around you.

"What the fuck? Tyler, where did this come from?"

With a rambled and short explanation you know just from his tone and demeanour that you're really in trouble if you don't get moving. The tornado is unmissable as it covers the horizon, debris flying across the sky, tearing apart everything in its path.

"We need to find somewhere low."

Immediately your mind goes to the empty swimming pool across the lot, you pull on Tyler's hand, guiding him in the right direction. Over all the destruction you make out the sound of a woman screaming and a young child crying. "Ty!" With one swift nod he runs across the lot to help, carrying the little girl carefully in his arms, never letting the mother out of sight.

The wind speed ratchets up quicker than you expect, this isn't your first experience with a tornado but this is the closest you've ever been to one outside the protection of the Ram. You loved storm chasing with Tyler, long before you were married and during those blissful few years that you were still in that honeymoon stage. A scream leaves your chest as you watch a truck somersault mere inches from crushing him to death. And you know if that moment that those divorce papers were a mistake. You were still madly, irrevocably in love with Tyler Owens, you'd just been in denial for all this time.

As he keeps your shielded from most of the force of mother nature, his arms wrapped around you, keeping you safe, you pray that you both make it through this to work things out.

Seconds feel like hours before the tornado passes. You can't help but shiver violently with fear, exhaustion and the effects of the rain seeping into your skin. Yet as you take in the destruction around you, your mind is on only one thing - Tyler Owens. Without taking a second thought you grab him by the collars of his shirt and pull him towards you. As you press your lips to his own, you can't help regret leaving him behind all those months ago, what an idiot you had been. But you know here and now is where you belong, in his arms.

Part 2 Coming Soon