#boy that’s what this boils down to i suppose

[fumifooms]

Dungeon lord Chilchuck

What would his wish as a dungeon lord be? What would he be like? Headcanons & speculation post for fun. But I’ll start with analytic lead up because that’s always fun for me, though feel free to skip and skim.

When it comes to what Chilchuck’s dungeon lord desires could/would be like we have mainly 3 hints: His nightmare, his succubus and what the winged lion says to him.

Why: — From what we see nightmares are based on the person’s worst fears and insecurities, both Laios’ and Marcille’s nightmare were closely tied to their dungeon lord wishes (Laios’ dream monster being summoned to crush the ghosts of relationships that represented the pressure to fit in and belong, Marcille seeking control over death and aging through magic to avoid loss), the fuel behind their desire/goal if you will. Fear and deep-seated desires are seemingly closely tied, something also supported by Thistle and Mithrun’s reigns as dungeon lords (Thistle proving his worth through fulfilling his given duty + protecting his loved ones, being listened to instead of having to listen, Mithrun escaping rigid two-faced elven society and living in a wonderland where he has no enemies and he’s loved, free from everyone he knew yet propped up by the person symbolizing his brother being chosen over him, the bastard child).

— I’ve talked about the significance I assign to the succubi often by now, but rundown: What we see of each character is all very telling if you care to listen, it shows not only someone’s "ideal form" but what they want from it. Izutsumi’s is familial, offering a hug and comfort, Marcille’s is romantic with a character she knows and loves, offering a kiss on a hand and a connection regardless of how distant it actually is, and Laios’ is platonic, arguable at first but then Laios’ fear of judgement is placated and he is offered the picture perfect friend group that accepts his interest (if you want my full look at Laios’ succubus go here). They take on the most alluring form, most ideal person of their victim, even uncovering deep subconscious desires, so precisely and effectively to the point it leaves victims physically frozen before the object of their desire. Succubi and the demon are themselves tied in lore and it’s easy to see how similar their core skill are. Succubi don’t give a good idea of what a character would wish for on their own but they certainly give hints on what they crave, regardless of how you want to read it.

— Last bit is self-explanatory. To placate Chilchuck and win his compliance over, the monster that reads your soul like an open book offers to give him something specific. But! It’s also important to remember that the lion isn’t offering to fulfill Chilchuck’s dream world wish here, it’s a second prize, because his goal with what he promised Laios is that they’d stay in this world, away from everyone and everything else. Chilchuck wants to get away but is kept back, and it’s here the lion placates him with "hey it’s okay! You can’t do that but I can still give you this! This is enough right? It’ll make everything easier on you".

What each bit says: — Long version in another post. Tldlr: His daughters and family are obviously important to him, and this reinforces that he takes on the role of protector a lot, he’s constantly worried for his party members’ lives and implicitly his family’s. Safety and stability, both economical and otherwise, are his core values and goals, and he berates both others and himself if someone fails on those fronts. Here, there’s the fear of not being enough, of not having been able to protect, and of course of loss.

— Chil’s succubi are obviously sexual, and not only that but agressively and straightforwardly so. It’s not like Marcille’s where there’s personality involved, all they do is give him sultry looks and pretty smiles before jumping on him. His succubi aren’t like Izutsumi’s, always the same exact person and appearance, so it’s not someone but an appealing general idea. The idea of a sexual being he can regard as simply a gorgeous piece of meat and a good time no strings attached. In my interpretation, especially with my reading of Laios’ succubus where even with deep-seated desires negative emotions can be too intense to effectively freeze a victim, I think this doesn’t contradict his character. Relationships have been painful to him in the past, in the succubus scene when his wife gets mentioned his immediate reaction is to yell "Don’t bring her up now!", like with his habit of drinking and as a tallman liking his senses feeling dulled, it’s about not having to feel emotions with how difficult they are to deal with sometimes and just feeling good, or at least not having to think, for a while. If a succubus showcases someone’s ideal connection with an ideal person, then Chilchuck’s is with a pretty person that doesn’t stir any negative memory or drama, someone low stakes and low maintenance that doesn’t require him to manage or talk out feelings because there’s none involved in the first place.

— Once more, wife and family are important! He does long for his family, not only his wife but his daughters, and vice versa. This suggests not only that he wants good relationships with them but that he wants them to be with him, a family life. Far from the cut communication they all more of less have during canon, and perhaps far from their life pre-canon when he worked away from home a significant amount of time. We’ve seen recreations of people by the winged lion before with doppelgangers and monsters (naga), and though he claims he can make satisfying imitations, what we’ve seen is that they base themselves on the best memories of that person, like with Marcille’s dad, or twist behavior to be more pleasant, like Mithrun’s lover (and possibly twist appearances depending on the person’s view of them, but that’s Mithrun analysis). The line does suggest Chilchuck would want his family members as they are in reality and not idealized versions, but the circumstances are chaotic and urgent enough in the scene (and again the lion isn’t fulfilling Chilchuck’s wish but trying to make him content for Laios’) that it could just be the winged lion saying what he needs to to convince him the fastest possible, and like we see with Laios that can crumble to give way to deeper or more complex desires.

On top of that we just have general info on Chil. How does Chilchuck deal w his issues? What does he like to do? He likes alcohol and ignoring his problems. We have to remember there is a split between what someone would consciously wish for and what their soul uncontrollably irrationally craves. As always with Dunmeshi, there’s a narrative of irrational deep-seated desires vs active wants, what you crave vs what you strive for, what you dream of vs what’s actually good for you, the animal vs the human inside you, heart vs mind. Chilchuck craving a harem of hot babes in his fantasies but wanting his family life & wife back again is not mutually exclusive. You may crave becoming a monster and tasting what humans are like a little but still want to save the world & your friends more.

Btw can we adress the irony of him terrified of being the last one alive, of being left by his daughters and wife, of having left and coming back home one day to see everything gone or rampaged, yet not caring about dying of liver failure himself, knowing every time that he enters a dungeon there’s a real risk he may not come out. Die somewhere I can’t see you. I prefer leaving you than being left behind. He’s selfish and shortsighted like that… Chilchuck is selfless in many ways of course, but perhaps also due to his own relationship with his parents, he often undermines the effects he has on others in his relationships, both the good and the bad (he talks himself down about being cowardly and greedy yes, but never hints at his bad health habits, alcoholism and starving himself, may have affected his loved ones, doesn’t question his wife falling into a bad mood the night before she left, and talks about the possibility of dying here and there very casually, though obviously he tries his best to stay alive when it doesn’t concern his health).

Chilchuck king of "Let me just avoid and ignore my problems surely they’ll go away, things might work out and if they don’t well tough luck I’ll survive and I probably deserve it anyways". If I don’t look at it it will dissapear <3 Why care when you can simply not think about it.

You might not understand Mister "my love will stay strong through months of work travel and also 4 years of separation" and Mister "well idk my siblings and me are kinda strangers and my dad is dead but that’s kinda whatever", but typically relationships need some form of maintenance and emotional availability…

The actual headcanons finally

I kinda have 2 routes in mind for dunlord Chil and both of them are centered on "I care too much, i wish things were easy", so first is a lot like his succubi, it’s full on indulging in his guilty pleasures like alcohol and bodies and it’s to keep him in a constant state of thrill and euphoria and distracted, unfeeling about stuff that really matters. "Nothing matters except that I’m enjoying the moment!" vibe. He gets to live a life worthy of Dionysus, with alcohol and women and debauchery and like— never having to think again, never having to feel anything but pleasure again, never have to feel guilty or shitty or angry or sad. He has a harem and gets everything on a silver platter.

Breaking news demon magic-induced rush of euphoria and power still not enough to cure this man of his self-hatred nor his capacity for thought!! But in his case a state of euphoria is what he seeks I think, to kinda mask or replace the Everything Else.

The other is what I think closer to what canon suggests, with what WL implied too with "I’ll make you a new wife and kids like the originals!! 😊", it’s a (spoilers) Wandavision type thing where it’s a slice of life where he’s never at work and always at home and the family eats lunches at the dinner table together and everything and everyone at any moment is just. Happy. No issues. It was all a dream, this is real and everything is fine and your family is perfect and happy. I like to think the timeline would be wonky, his daughters would fluctuate in age, but he’d want to be there for what he missed, would want them to still rely on him and look up to him like when they were young, would like to forget that they’re now independent adults and the distance that grew between Chilchuck and his siblings is happening between them as well. Chil would want doppelgangers of his family imo, at its core just a general wish for a peaceful happy family life with no drama, no need to compromise, a little paradise of unconditional love and no consequences. It’s for sure straightforward, but Chilchuck is a man with straightforward desires…

But see Chilchuck is a greedy man, and he wants it both ways without having to sacrifice anything or expanding any efforts himself. He wants to have his cake and eat it too. I think playing with these two opposite directions and mixing and matching is most fun. Him leading a life where he indulges in all his worst habits while still having everything he wants… Him getting to have BOTH his wife and any woman he can imagine up, his life like two sides of a coin he can flip at any moment where he’s partying then he’s at home enjoying the quiet and his toddler daughters playing with toys on the carpet. Christ when you remember it’s all an illusion that’s terrifying, the doppelgangers and succubi from the winged lion playing chilchuck ping pong.

A safe little haven both security-stability wise and emotionally. Gets to have both the relaxing and the thrilling in any dose he wants, mixed or separatedly. What I’d argue he had pre-canon too: Can live it up in taverns away from home, stays away from home for long periods of time, and can come back to home aka the symbol of relaxation and safety whenever he decides to. Something he can leave and come back to at will, an anchor he can trust in (until it’s taken from him and his wife leaves. Or in his worse nightmare people rush in and kill his daughters). The ideal of a house and family to a working man, perhaps…

I think it’s fun to think on wether or not these desires would be interesting at all to the winged lion… In canon he seeks out "rare/complex desires", common simple things like I imagine riches, sex, substances and pleasure would be are boring to him, he’s eaten those so many times already. So perhaps he wouldn’t last long as a dunlord, the WL would want to eat him fully quick, can’t keep him interested or waiting long for a meager meal, too much effort raising the cattle and too low quality meat. By making it more twisted or layered Chil’s desire would become more desirable to the demon, it’s part of what’s fun with the third option to me. But whatever. Has he ever eaten a guy with this much repression and self-sabotage... Like trying to get the meat out of a walnut, enrichment…

Other dunlord Chil takes I’ve seen that are fun and good:

@feelo-fick and @pluvio-floret have a dunlord Chilchuck AU project dubbed "tragedy AU" where Chilchuck is said to be "on vacation", in a weird delirious state, only half-there half of the time… From which he doesn’t want to wake up </3 Quoting Feelo, this is why the vacation thing is only a half-joke cause he is 1) letting all his responsibilities go 2) indulging in himself and 3) "spending time with his family" <- lie but you get what i mean. Additional comments that have me vigorously nodding: because changing is hard why cant things just be okay right now without the effort !!! Life is hard he’s so so tired he just wants to feel good… he just wants life to feel nice and easy for a sec while he can learn to breathe again and lose the stress and trauma he’s accumulated…….. spoiler alert yes !!! in fact a depressed person can suck themselves into their job and lock out the world who wouldve thought !!!

And then Cabinette I know posted about his dunlord take once but I don’t have the link, in which Chil has a lot of nosebleeds because of mana overload which is fun and interesting to think about imo~

In dunmeshi, where characters get underground pockets of the world as their playground disconnected from everything outside and the rest of the world, it’s important to remember to face reality even if it has conflict and people with different views and stances from you, it’s something Chilchuck and Marcille and everyone needed to learn, and the thing with a dungeon lord AU is that you imagine a timeline where he fails to <3

A timeline where his dungeon lord wish is to desire nothing bc hope and want has only ever hurt him would also go so hard. Very universal thing though I suppose.

… And this is why a Chilchuck-centric Coraline AU is really really interesting and fitting and topical— Ok that’ll go in a separate reblog/post at @Fumiku I need to let this end

[dekuneho]

five in the morning ☆ ( ​prohero!katsuki x reader ) mdni | suggestive

The digital alarm clock seated on your bedside table flickers, casting a glow that reads 5 AM in the asscrack of morning. Your boyfriend is dead asleep and probably won’t wake up for a while, hopefully. You don’t waste opportunities that the universe has clearly granted on a silver platter, and so you set to work right away.

You slip off the bed, skillfully slithering away from Katsuki’s grip. He stirs momentarily, legs sliding over the warmth you had left; you hold your breath, watching him carefully. Katsuki continues snoring.

Mission accomplished.

Katsuki’s the better cook, and he had been spoiling you rotten all this time with his three-star Michelin cooking. Considering how well he treated you last night, you want to treat him by waking up to breakfast in bed this morning. It’ll be nothing special, but he’d be on the other end of the princess treatment this time, and it’s at least something.

A traditional Japanese breakfast would take a while, but you had prepared beforehand with leftovers and freezer foods. Now, the real challenge is perfecting Tamagoyaki the way Katsuki does — an impossible feat, but you wouldn’t be Katsuki’s favorite person in the world if you weren’t stubborn and headstrong.

As the rice boils, you move to reach for a cutting board but instead, startle at a warm figure pressing against your back.

Fuck. He wasn’t supposed to wake up right away! You barely started. Did he wake up once he realized you were missing?

“Katsuki,” you say, twisting around to meet your boyfriend’s half-asleep daze. “Can you go back to bed and pretend to be surprised in preferably an hour or so?”

“Nah,” he rasps out, octaves lower than usual. “Don’t wanna waste my view.”

Your plans have been foiled, but whatever. The heat emanating from Katsuki’s body makes you want to leech off him for a little longer. This morning had been a little too cold for comfort.

Katsuki keeps quiet as you work, his chin resting on the curve of your shoulder. He doesn’t murmur any complaints or criticisms, so it could either be because he’s approving of your methods, or it could be because he’s dozing off on your clavicle. He’s pliable as you glide through the kitchen, back and forth — and still, Katsuki’s like a cat perched over you.

“Hey,” Katsuki says. You feel his voice rumble over his chest, and it meets your shoulder blades. “Baby, look at me, please.”

A please so early in the morning? What a miracle.

You shift around, meeting Katsuki’s sharp and heated gaze. Seems like he enjoyed watching you a little too much. You smile, your arms slowly winding their way around his shoulders as his nose brushes against yours.

“Hi,” you whisper in the space you share, grinning.

“Mm,” hums Katsuki, expression turning fierce.

Without warning, he ducks and bites over your nose. It doesn’t hurt, just the threat of his sharp teeth on your skin. Still, you jump in his hold, bewildered and possibly a little aroused?

“Katsuki—”

He licks over your mouth, humming like a cat purring in approval. 

Well — scratch that. He’s more like a dog, licking your face like that, what the hell? You hide your face with an arm, ignoring the heat pooling in your stomach at how Katsuki’s staring at you like he’s mistaken you for breakfast. Breakfast that you worked hard to prepare!

“Down, boy,” you scold. Is he experiencing cuteness aggression?

“Had some on your lips,” Katsuki explains, like he couldn’t have just wiped it off with his thumb. “Tastes good.”

He pokes his tongue out, and you go cross-eyed, trying to follow it. There’s a trace of sauce on it, and you have to summon the power of a thousand men to hold back from sucking on it. He cages you on the island counter with two beefy arms.

“You, I mean,” clarifies Katsuki.

The thousand men are failing miserably.

“Katsuki,” you warn, sounding winded. Pointedly ignoring his grin, you push on his chest. “Let me finish your damn food first, ungrateful brat.”

“You ain’t my ma,” Katsuki snarks back. “Could make you one, if you—”

“Katsuki!” You push on his shoulders with more force, ears burning. Katsuki barks out a gleeful laugh, sounding too lively at this hour, feeding your mess of irritation and arousal.

Katsuki skids to a halt before you can reach the dining table, leaning forward to capture your lips in his. You inhale sharply, fingers twitching uselessly by his side. Katsuki pries your lips open with his, licking into your mouth some more. You can taste the residue of the fruits of your labor ( the breakfast that will get cold soon if Katsuki doesn’t cut this shit out ), and his hand sliding down to cup your ass is all it takes for you to melt against him.

You jerk away, needing to breathe. Katsuki watches you with a frown. You feel lightheaded.

“Fuckin’ cute,” he mutters, pinching your cheek. “Cookin’ breakfast f’me like that. So good to me, baby, you know that?”

“I — I should be the one saying that, Katsuki,” you say, embarrassed. “‘s why I wanted to surprise you.”

Katsuki scowls. “Stop acting all cute so damn early in the morning. I don’t want to fuckin’ marry you on some random fucking Wednesday.”

Breakfast is quiet, with you steaming from embarrassment and Katsuki preening from his win, all smug and stupidly handsome. It didn’t work out as planned, but maybe it was just an opportunity for you to share a Wednesday morning with your Katsuki, who’s criticizing the lack of spice but inhaling every grain of rice on his plate. 

You smile at your food. Maybe marrying him on a Wednesday wouldn’t be so bad.

[shotmrmiller]

tw: mentions of roofies, murder, then smut:)

cbf!simon would absolutely kill for you.

cbf!simon has always been your partner in crime.

even in your youth, back when he was built like a daffodil, he was always by your side. kept you safe from the mean girls at school, always got in trouble for throwing hands at boys who made crass comments at you and the like. then he'd left his butcher job to join the military. "I gotta learn how to keep you safe, love. i'll always come back to ya."

and he had. he returned to you almost four times his size; he left a boy and came back a man. down to your very bones, you knew that he would always keep you safe.

which is why he was the first person you called when the guy next to you at the bar roofied your drink. the beer fizzed irregularly and had an almost milky colour even though it was an ipa.

the idiot had dared to smile at you, an oily, crooked grin with yellow teeth, and lifted his own glass to toast with you.

you bolted out of your seat in seconds, heading straight to the ladies' room, and dialed.

he answered on the second ring.

"please come get me." you hadn't meant to sound as terrified as you felt.

"be there in 5," then hung up.

he lived 15 minutes away from the dingy bar.

true to his word, he was there in 5, texting where you were at.

inside the ladies bathroom.

he let himself in, put his jacket around your quivering shoulders, and with a strong, comforting arm, guided you toward the exit and into his truck. simon remained silent as he sat you in the passenger seat, gently pulling the seatbelt over your chest, clicking it into place.

he stood next to you, his hands resting on your jean-clad thighs, waiting patiently for you to explain.

your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you sort out your thoughts. you no longer felt afraid, that much was certain. simon has always been your pillar of strength. there was nothing to fear with him at your side.

so why do your hands continue to tremble? digging deeper, you realize that you're angry. no.

furious.

some imbecile thought he'd take advantage of you. if you'd been any more drunk, you would have been a victim— wound up lifeless in a dirty ditch.

you burned with fury, your blood boiling under your skin. how dare he? how dare he?

simon softly touches your tightly clenched hands, coaxing your fingers to unfurl.

everything pulls hard to port when your eyes land on his disfigured knuckles— scarred by battle. you've never liked what simon did for a living. he just fought and killed people that some higher-up told him were the bad guys.

in war, there is no good or bad side. the field is too soaked in blood for anyone to recognize where the line is if there even was one to begin with.

until now. just this once, you couldn't be more grateful that simon possesses the skills he does.

you make your decision. "there was a guy in there. green hat, ugly brown jacket with yellow, crooked teeth. he drugged my beer, then toasted me so i would drink it."

his hands tighten around yours marginally. "and now i'm here, safe, with you. but he's still in there, with potentially a pocket full of pills, on the lookout for his next victim. how am i supposed to sleep tonight, knowing that if someone goes missing tonight, the blood will be on my hands?"

you cut your eyes to his dark, hardened ones, and the words tumble out of your mouth with surprising ease.

"there's trash in there that needs throwing out, simon."

nothing but a wretched mongrel that needs to be put down.

simon's nod is subtle, but it's there. you exhale a shuddering breath, heart slamming against your ribcage.

he's a gun in your hand, and you've just pulled the trigger.

simon hands you the keys to the truck. "are you sober enough to drive home?" he quietly asks.

hard to keep a buzz when you almost became a victim of—

"yes."

he's opening the glove compartment, taking out his skeleton gloves, and a tac knife that he tucks inside the waistband of his jeans.

"go home. i'll see ya in a bit." his voice is flat, lifeless.

simon closes the door and raps his knuckles on the hood of the truck before heading inside.

and so the elephant marches to war.

-

it's well past midnight when he crawls in through your window. one moment his boots are on the windowsill, the next he's pinning you onto your mattress, hips flush against yours.

his chilly, clean hands lift the hem of your loose shirt, dimpling the soft skin that his fingers dig into— his bare lips grazing the shell of your ear.

"he is no longer a problem."

he grinds his clothed erection against the flimsy fabric of your sleeping shorts.

"you did the right thing by telling me what he did."

simon trails a path of open-mouthed kisses from your ear down to your mouth, licking your bottom lip.

"nothing gets me harder than when my girl looks at me to keep her safe."

your breath hitches when a hand begins to move south, lifting the waistband of your bottoms and sliding his fingers over your slick pussy. "it seems you like it too. does it turn you on, ordering me around like a dog? i bark at your command, pet."

one finger sinks into your wet heat, his groan drowning out your own.

"you like having this much power over me? how easily i bend to your will?" he croons.

there are two fingers in you now, so much thicker than your own, and the way they curl and drag along your nerves has your toes tingling. he takes you to the precipice at frightening speed— the expert hands that kill without remorse are the same ones that are bringing you your pleasure.

he thrusts his fingers into you with an obscene squelch and a thumb circles your slippery clit.

"i'd burn the world to ashes if you asked it of me."

the coil in your stomach is tight, your body tense in anticipation.

"so... would you? would you ask me to bring the world to its very knees?"

the answer sits on the tip of your tongue when you climax around his fingers, walls pulsing rhythmically, arousal dripping from his knuckles.

later will be a good time to reflect on how you don't feel even remotely guilty for what's been done.

for now, you focus on how good simon feels as he slowly sinks into you, splitting you wide open with his heavy cock.

-

simon finds no pills in the guy's pockets. no baggie, no bottle.

nothing.

shame that his little love has declared the guy's life forfeit.

your wish is his command.

[tteokdoroki]

☆༉ — RYOMEN SUKUNA. a better man.

about. you’re a girl that’s way out of his league and he’s the bad boy you couldn’t help but fall for. what happens when ryomen sukuna fails to meet you in the middle?

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, suggestive towards the end, no curses!au, modern!au, it’s implied that sukuna is in a gang, mentions of fights, reader is a rich girl, they’re kinda in love :( bad boy!sukuna, fem!reader.

“you’re mad at me. aren’cha?”

sukuna mutters with an air of faux nonchalance as he lazily jogs up the final marble steps that lead up to the restaurant he was supposed to meet you at nearly two hours ago. the evening traffic zips by, red and white headlights parting through the rain to illuminate your boyfriend’s features. heavy water droplets take residence on the slope of his nose and Cupid’s bow, some even daring to cling on to the tips of dusty rose-coloured hair.

if you weren’t so angry right now, you might take a moment to appreciate how good sukuna looks in the moment — especially with the way the rain makes the designer tux you’d gotten for him cling to his skin. exposing every ridge and dip and curve in his muscle while his inky black tattoos become all the more visible.

“of course i’m mad.” you step aside to let sukuna under the shelter of the entrance, avoiding him as he swoops down for his usual hug and kiss. “tonight is important. it was important.”

“babe c’mon on, i was—“

“you were late. they’re serving dessert in there, ryomen.” your tone is coloured with shades of annoyance and a hint of warning. like a mother about to lecture her child. you’re pissed. it’s written all over your face too — in the way that your brows crease and you pout so adorably. he’ll try to play it off, like he doesn’t care, but it almost makes sukuna sick to his stomach to know that you’re angry with him.

the rain picks up outside of the restaurant and you continue. “all you had to do was show up on time. come to this stupid fancy restaurant and be there to meet my parents. but of course, you got yourself caught up in—“ you grab his dress shirt in frustration, noticing the blood on the collar that doesn’t belong to him. his split knuckles and the bruise on his lips. “— in whatever this is.” you roll your eyes, blood boiling.

“it’s nothin’ for you to worry your pretty little head about,” sukuna scoffs, lips spreading wide in his signature smirk. the excuse is lame, but he doesn’t want you to worry for him any longer. “since when did you care about what your parents think, anyways?” but you see it in his eyes, that same old worry. that he’s not good enough for you, that a scumbag like him doesn’t deserve a pretty girl like you. he’s always told you to find someone better, someone able to feed into the glitz and glamour that you were brought up in.

but you’ve always told ryomen sukuna that you have everything you need right there with him.

cupping his face, the heat of anger dispels from your body and you exhale deeply though your nose. “i don’t care about what my parents think. if i did, i wouldn’t be dating you.” you cast a thumb over the thick lines of ink decorating his face, accenting sukuna’s high cheekbones and chiselled features while the rest of your fingers sink into his smooth, dark undercut. “but that doesn’t mean i don’t want you to meet them. they’re just as special to me as you are. i want the most important people in my life to know each other.”

your boyfriend’s hands settle on your wrists as he grunts noncommittally, indicating that he’s aware of his wrong doings. if there’s one thing that sukuna hates, it’s upsetting you. he doesn’t care what the world thinks of him, it’s never mattered before. yet, even the slightest look of disappointment from you has the man in shambles. “‘m sorry,” he drawls, his grip on you shifting down to cup your waist — pulling you flush against him. “what can a guy like me do to make it up to you?”

“you can go on in there and charm the hell out of my rich, uptight parents so that we can hurry up and go home,” your voice lowers an octave as you stand on your tip toes for the extra height so that you can nip at the shell of sukuna’s ear. “where you can rip this dress off’a me.”

“such a dirty mouth for such’a prim ‘n proper girl, hm? i should wash it out with soap.” he purrs right back, leaning down to kiss at your neck until you’ve had enough of his frayed pink hair tickling your skin. he damn near melts when your fingers inch up to tug at his roots — earning a deep and thrilling growl from the man. “that was a dirty move. who taught you that?”

“my good for nothing boyfriend, he’s kind of a bad influence.” you tease back, despite having to physically push sukuna away in order to avoid setting off his inner beast before dinner with your parents is done — and instead, take to grabbing his larger hand in yours so you can lead him from the front of house to your family’s reserved table.

and like always, sukuna trails after you like a lost puppy enamoured with the person that found them, have them love and warmth. because, while you didn’t change him, you made him want to be better — to give up the knives in his back and the bullets looking over his head for something better. something softer.

something like you.

ryomen sukuna wanted to become the someone he thought you deserved.

that’s why he put on this stupid suit and tie, why he let you take his hand, why he follows you to the the table that’s sure to seal his fate with you.

behind all that rough exterior, is a man who loves you.

and in front of sukuna, is a girl who loves him and all of his flaws right back.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[sturniqlo]

Drunken Mistake- C.S

summary: frat boy!chris and nerd!y/n have been dating for over a year and thier relationship has had many bumps.

cw: cursing, toxic relationship, ANGST; mentions of bullying, crying, arguing, cheating, break up, rejection

an: wonderful idea by the one and only @monroesturnns | ps. i do not condone cheating! remember this is pure fiction!!

masterlist | join my taglist

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"god, i wish that you had thought this through, before i went and fell in love with you."- traitor, o.r

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"Come on, baby." Chris kissed down Y/n's neck as she was writing down some notes. "Just this one party, you haven't been to one of my frat parties in over two months." He continued his trail up to her jaw and eventually landed on her lips. "Chris, you know I don't like parties. I need to finish my notes for my exam. I'll go to the next one, okay?"

"That's what you said two weeks ago! It's the next time! Let's- just stop studying for once and go to this fucking party!" He raises his voice and Y/n sensed an argument boiling. "Watch your tone! You know how important school is to me, my parents sent me here to study! Not to get sucked into the partying lifestyle, that's not me!"

"Yeah, yeah, your parents this tuition that, you're like some fucking nerd! Let loose for once. Fuck!" He gets off of her. "Fuck you! Partying shouldn't be your top priority, Chris. Just stay in for once, miss one little party and study! I haven't seen you open your book in two weeks. Am I going to have to make space in my schedule and tutor you again?"

Before Y/n and Chris got together. They weren't very fond of each other. But, Chris was too busy partying and he was failing his classes. He was on the verge of being kicked out of his fraternity. Somehow Chris got kicked out of living in the frat house- but he was still apart of it- so he moved in with his two brothers. Chris wasn't doing anything about his failing grades so his brothers took care of it.

Their childhood friend, Y/n, was a very smart girl. Nick mentioned it to her when they hung out and she was hesitant at first. But when she realized Nick was concerned for Chris' grades, she agreed. The relationship between Chris and Y/n was rocky at first. It hadn't always been like that. Before high school, they were stuck to the hip but once junior year came along, Y/n started getting bullied by one of the popular girls and guess who ended up dating her? Chris.

Chris had known about this but still chose to date his friends bully. Y/n slowly started distancing herself from Chris. Fast forward four years, she was tutoring him and a couple of months later they eventually started dating.

"God! Are you ever going to let that go? You always bring it up in every fucking argument. Just come to this party!" She shakes her head. "No, whenever I go you always end up with your friends in the corner leaving me alone in a room full of people I don't know! No, is my final answer." Chris grew even more aggravated. "Fine, I'll go alone." He walks towards the bedroom door and opens it. "Just know, you aren't the only girl in my life."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" She said, her anxiety rising. "Exactly as it sounds like." With that, he slammed the door behind him and left. Y/n stayed there, sitting on his bed while he went to the stupid party.

"Where you going?" Matt asks as he sees Chris head for the front door. "A party." He says. "You're going to a party while Y/n is over?" He said. Matt has seen Chris do this a couple of times but he's never asked about it. "Yeah, so what? If she doesn't want to go why should I have to miss it?"

"It's a bit rude. You know? She's here, in your room while you're at a party." Chris scoffs at Matt's words. "Look, I don't need a lecture from you too. Let me live my life, if she doesn't want to go it's up to her that she wants to stay and read her fuckass books." He repeats what he did just a couple of minutes ago. He opens the door and slams it behind him.

Matt goes down the small set of stairs and knocks of Chris' door where Y/n is on the other side of. "Come in." He hears her say. "Hey, it's me. You okay down here?" Her eyes are glossed over and her face has tear marks. "I'm okay. I- you know how Chris is with his parties." She chuckles sadly. "I just wish he would put his school work first sometimes. I mean, he's paying all of this money to just party."

"Why don't you try to talk to him about it?" He says. "I have! All he say is that I should put my work aside and stop being a nerd." Matt shakes his head. Chris has always teased her about focusing on her work.

"Can I ask you something?" She says. "Go ahead." He says nodding. "Has Chris ever- I don't know- has he ever mentioned someone else?" He furrows his eyebrows. "Like, another girl?" She nods. "No, no, if he did you know I would tell you. Why do you ask? You think he's seeing someone else, or?"

"No?" She questions. "He just said something before he left and it had me thinking."

"I'm sure he just said it out of anger. I doubt he'd ever do that to you."

Later that night, around two in the morning, Chris came in stumbling. "Bro, you're drunk as shit." Matt scolded him, helping him down the stairs. "No I'm not." He giggled. "How'd you even get home? You better have not driven." Chris shakes his head. "I walked it. I saw sixty three- no! Sixty eight trees."

Chris opens the door and sees Y/n sleeping. "Okay, you can let me go now." Chris pulls away from Matt and pushes him out the room. "Okay, goodn-" He slams the door, causing Y/n to wake up. "Chris? What are you doing." She whispers. "Look at you, not studying for once. Not being a nerd right now?" He laughs. Y/n rolls her eyes. "I don't have time for this right now." She sighed and gets out of the bed and grabs her phone.

"Babe, I'm only kidding." He grabs her arm as she reaches for the doorknob. "Chris, stop. We'll talk in the morning."

Y/n stirs awake from the constant vibration of her phone. Stretching from her spot on the couch where she slept last night after Chris came back. She grabbed her phone and saw that she had many texts from her friends, even from people she hasn't really spoke to.

Still half asleep, she clicks on a message from a girl in her tuesday class. Furrowing her eyebrows at the message she replies back.

y/n

what's going on?

hailey

*video attachment*

The video started out as a girl posing for pictures. "Yes! Now pose like- oh my god?" The girl recording pointed to two people. "What is it?" She girl posing said and stopped posing. "Isn't that Chris Sturniolo over there?" The girl recording put the phone down but another girl spoke. "No, don't stop recording! Get this, he has a fucking girlfriend. And that isn't her." The camera pans up and Chris comes into view, but he's kissing a girl. Y/n gasps and her heart drops. This was from last night.

"What the hell!" Y/n's voice shakes and she sits up in shock. She continues watching the video. The camera girl zooms in on them. "What a fucking loser, like actually." The two of them continue kissing and Y/n has had enough and shuts her phone off.

Her tears start streaming down her face. How could he? Yeah they were a bit toxic but she never thought Chris would cheat on her. She gets up from her spot in her couch and runs down to Chris' room. Barging in she immediately starts yelling. "Chris, wake the fuck up!" Chris jumps up from his bed. "Is someone dying? What the fuck. My head is pounding." His eyes adjust to the bright lights.

"How could you Chris? Really? How fucking could you?" She cried. "What happened, babe?" He gets up and goes to hug her. "No! Don't fucking touch me! You cheated on me! You- you fucking asshole!" Chris' face went pale. "I- uh- what?!" He stutters over his words. "You don't have shit on me." He shakes his head.

"Don't act stupid! I saw a video of you making out with a girl last night! I don't understand, did you do it out of anger because I didn't go to a fucking party? Or have you been doing this our whole relationship. I- I should've listened to my friends, I can't believe I loved you." Her tears haven't stopped falling down. "Y/n, hear me out." He says hesitantly. "No! How could you explain that. You betrayed me, Chris!"

"I- we're done, Chris. I don't ever want to hear from you again. I've given you so many chances, Chris. So many- but this, I can't forgive you for it." She pauses before she continues on. "Maybe she'll go to all of your frat parties and not stay home like the nerd that I am. I really can't believe you've went this far. Goodbye Chris." She wipes her tears with her sleeve and turns around to leave the room.

"Y/n.." He starts off, but nothing else's comes out.

"Hey, hey, hey, what happened?" Matt gets up from the table when he sees Y/n come up the stairs crying. He had heard them arguing but it was muffled so he decided to go out in case things escalated. He knew they had been a bit tense since last night. "I- ask Chris. I can't- I can't be here right now, I'm sorry." Her voice cracks and she grabs her bag. "I'll see you around." She says before leaving their home.

For the next couple of days, Chris spent them in his room. Napping, watching his and Y/n's favorite show and youtube videos. He sent her many messages and called her many times. They were all ignored. Chris didn't blame her, he fucked up. He didn't know why he did what he did. He was drunk and angry.

Nick and Matt were furious at him. For one, Chris cheated on her. And two, they probably lost one of their childhood friends who was always there for them. Nick and Matt would text her but she would either send and bland response or not answer at all. They just wanted their friend back.

"Where're you going?" Nick says coldly when he sees his brother come up the stairs. "To Y/n's apartment." Nick furrows his eyebrows. "You talked to her?" He shakes his head. "Then why the hell are you going over there? Is her ignoring your calls and messages not ringing a bell? She doesn't want to talk to you. What makes you think she'd want to see you?"

"I just- I want to apologize and try to get her back. I miss her." He rubs his face with his hands. "Not to sound like a dick or anything, but she's not going to take you back. You fucking cheated on her! And dare I say it, with your ex fucking girlfriend who bullied her, Chris. You're delusional if you think you're getting her back. And thanks to you, she barely even talks to me or Matt. Do you not realize that not only did you ruin your relationship with her, you ruined mine and Matt's relationship with her. But go ahead and try to talk to her." Nicks hand comes down on the table as he gets up from his seat and walks towards his set of stairs.

"I still can't believe you would hurt her like that."

Chris sighed and slumped on a chair. A couple of minutes later, he got up and walked out of the house.

He walked up the stairs of her apartment building hallway and made his way to her door. Luckily he had remembered the code to get in the building. His first comes up and knocks. After a couple of seconds he hears her unlocking the door. "Iris you're here earl- what are you doing here?" Her face drops when she sees that her friend isn't at the door. "Y/n I want to apologize. I want you back, please." He begs.

"No, Chris. I can't put myself through that again. Do you know how much that hurt me? All because I didn't want to go to a party, Chris. A fucking party! I can't be with someone who cheats when I don't want to do something." She spoke loudly. "Y/n, baby, I promise I won't hurt you ever again. I promise." He begged her. "Please." His voice quivered.

She hated seeing him like this. But, for once, she decided to put herself first. "No, Chris. I- I can't do this anymore. I can't be with you anymore." His eyes welled up with tears. "Y/n." He spoke in desperation. "Y/n, please," She shook her head. "Go, Chris." She whispered.

"Don't make this harder than it should be."

[skyrigel]

Baby, you're mine.

Ex bf! Mattheo Riddle x gn!reader

Hi, umm kinda wanted a jealous fic where Mattheo's a complete jerk ( fool ) for you. Basically that one time he ruined your date and also the time he made up. Draco being a little shit but we love him.

" Isn't he a dork ? " Mattheo smirked, his fingertips brushing against your back when you snapped back at him.

" You're such a jerk matty." You perched your lips, crossing your arms as his smirk only widened, his eyes softening at the sight of you.

" For you, always." He added with a wink, you wouldn't smile, no, you will not give him that.

" Why don't you leave me alone ? " You turned to walk ahead, you were aware of your charms class that was just about to start.

" How about you don't go on this date ? " He suggested instead, catching up with you, few third year Hufflepuffs parted away.

" Marcus is a very good guy." You mumbled, Matheo scoffed hard and his malice was very much visible in the way he scowled at his name.

" Didn't you like bad guys ? " Matheo tried his soft, sweet voice, the one that always melted you, but not this time, you wouldn't let him.

" Does it matter ? Weren't you fucking Susan or was it Komal, i remember." You narrowed your gaze at him, your mouth tightening as his soft facade crumbled, his jaw slackened but he was quick to recover.

" It was...it meant.. nothing to me." He nodded his head, eyes blazing with sincerity but if only, if only.

" Mattheo, I know you haven't got heart—"

" Babe—"

"—but these girls have got one, so don't break theirs." You glared at him once before marching towards your charms class, eyes brimming with tears.

_

You should've known as soon as you entered the great hall when the silence on Slytherin table was too much, Draco was practically buzzing, his mouth was perked up around the edges, being not so subtle with his glances on you.

Mattheo was just another case, he was staring at you, not minding the concernful eyes that gazed him down, clad with longing and desire, he didn't care about them.You dutifully paid him no attention.

The mist cleared when Marcus didn't come that evening and it wasn't a surprise when you found him in hospital wing later , poor boy even refusing to speak with you. Well done, mattheo.

_

" Hey Y/n, heard you got stood up—" you shot bat boggey hex at Draco, with mere mumbling under your breath as you swinged your rucksack on one shoulder, feeling very tired.

Draco scowled but said nothing, Mattheo only smiled smugly.

" I was thinking—" Matheo started, you stomped your books down.

" Don't talk to me." You said, feeling anger boil inside you.

" I didn't do it on purpose." Mattheo dropped his gaze to your lips, you looked away.

" Oh really ?! " You huffed a humour less laugh that oddly sounded a croak.

" He..He talked shit about you babe, what was i supposed to do ? "

" Listen." Draco said, ducking his head when both you and Riddle glared at him.

" Well anything but to beat the pulp out of him." You cocked your head, wincing to think about the damage Mattheo had done, it would be a hard for Marcus to ever date again.

" He said he just wanted to fuck you and be done." His eyes glistented and you didn't know if Riddle could cry, he did when you broke up with him but—

" Said that he wasn't being serious so I shouldn't worry, just a fuck." He swallowed hard, his adam rolling up and readjusting again, every ring of his cartilage pressing around his skin.

" Tell me baby, what I was supposed to do ? Shouldn't I kill him ? What if...what if he broke your heart ? " He pressed down his forehead against you, Draco looked away, swaggering towards the other end of the corridor, others following.

You closed your eyes at the feel of him, Mattheo could be cold but how could you let go of this warmness that tingled your way, how could you forget the sweet darling boy who sung lullabies and wrote poetries for you, how could you ?

" He can't..." You gulped, " he can't break my heart Matty, you already did it." You sniffed hard, would it be okay if you just...just hugged him and kiss him for one last time, just once, would it be okay ?

" I am sorry darling, I am so sorry." He nuzzled closer, his nose caressing your cheek as he inahled you in, your scent, the way you made him crazy and feral. All of you.

" I hate myself for not hating you." You admitted, feeling your heart shedding off some burden.

" And I love myself for loving you, I tried..tried so hard and no one, my beloved, i can love no one like i love you." His lips pressed against the corner of your mouth, your whole body rippling in magnetic waves.

" You're a jerk." You told him, pulling him by his tie as a smile aroused him, soon it crashed against you, like lightening bolts set free as you tasted his sweetness, his tongue warm as you parted for him, let him take the lead.

A soft moan escaped and you shivered because you loved this boy, for so long you have, and only he could set you on fire and make you ablaze, only he could reduce you to ashes and breath you back in the air.

" Oh baby." He breathed against you, ever so handsy he grabbed for everything he could get, pulling you closer till there was nothing left you and him, his knees pressing between you legs as he relished in the sounds you could make, only for him.

" Matt..." Your voice was dazed with the pit in your stomach that lurched with the way he touched you, kissed you, had you.

" So long...so..my baby." He whispered against you lips, dipping to nib at your flushed swollen beaming lips.

" Oh my god." Your lids drooped back when his hands roughly slipped inside you shirt, kneading and squeezing your flesh, he was so needy and wild, like you always made him.

He downed your shirt, flushed as he pulled away when the bell rang and crowd started to emerge from classes.

"Go on a date with me." He pecked your cheeks, glancing to make sure your shirt wasn't riding up.

" Can't." You said, his nose scrunched up, " afraid my boyfriend might beat you up."

Mattheo's grin was splitting his whole face, his cheeks rushing with color and heat.

" Sounds like a jerk to me." He breathed, eyeing your lips and leaning in.

" Oh, he is." You winked, " always for me."

Don't blame me

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured (Alexia's Version) V

Alexia Putellas x Child!Reader

Summary: Alexia comes to ballet class

For some reason, Alexia feels nervous.

She's played some big matches. She's won some big trophies. She's scored some big goals.

But none of those moments ever made her as nervous as she feels now.

Your ballet school had sent home a leaflet just last week about having a parent-child day where parents could join in on practice with their kids.

Alexia had signed herself up without thinking before the realisation had sunk in about what she had done.

She hadn't danced in years, not properly anyway and left it all behind to pursue football. She wasn't quite sure she still remembered how to do that style of dance, let alone your style of ballet.

But, still, she had signed up and the awestruck look on your face when she told you was worth it all.

"Alright mummies and daddies," The too-happy voice of your teacher exclaims," We're so excited to have you here with us today. Why don't you go and grab your little one and find a spot at one of the barres?"

The whole class is sitting cross legged on the floor and Alexia can pick you out easily with your favourite leotard and the little braid Olga had given you this morning.

Alexia smiles at you, gently taking your hand as you pull her over to the spot at the very end of the mirror, just like your preferred space at your barre back home.

"Alright boys and girls! Now, first position!"

Alexia knows that one. She's pretty sure she's one of the only parents that actually does because she shifts into position while others look around in confusion.

"And now, plié."

It's fairly simple stuff but Alexia's not surprised. You're still little but you're doing exceptionally well. She catches sight of your determined little face as you bob up and down.

This is one of the better ballet schools for younger kids. Back when you first started ballet, Alexia didn't really care where you went so Eli had organised it.

Alexia feels glad that her Mama spent so much time researching because now that she's started visiting and chatting to the other parents, she knows that some ballet 'schools' are barely schools for young children, not really focused on teaching them actual ballet like this one is.

Throughout this whole exercise, you remain composed and calm the entire time. You easily shift in and out of the positions you need to be in and your teacher has nothing but compliments for you whenever she comes past.

You smile brightens each time and Alexia has to stop herself from leaning down to give you kisses all over your face.

"Alright boys and girls! Water break!"

Your focused face disappears from your features as soon as the water break is called and you whirl around to look at Alexia.

"I..." You seem a bit nervous, shuffling your feet. "Are you having fun, Mami?"

Alexia crouches down in front of you, gently pushing away some flyaways from your face. "I'm having so much fun, bambi."

"Really? I know it's not football but-"

"I don't need football to have a fun time with you," Alexia assures you, a soft kiss being pressed against your forehead," Do you know what we're doing after this?"

You nod. "Floorwork," You say seriously," Floorwork and then cool down and then home time." You chew on your bottom lip for a moment before you shyly ask," Would you like to be my floorwork partner, Mami?"

Alexia smiles. "I'd love to."

Floorwork sounds more intimidating than it is. All it really boils down to is the class going in pairs one corner to the other doing things like skipping to the beat of the music.

Alexia supposes it's a bit like conditioning in a way and holds your hand nice and tight as you both skip from one end of the room to the other.

Nearer the end, the teacher switches to turns and Alexia's a little glad that she's not the only parent that makes a bit of a fool of themselves.

To her credit, she, at least, manages to stay on her feet which can't be said for one dad who trips over his own laces and nearly smashes his face into the floor.

"Well done today, boys and girls!" The teacher says as everyone packs up," And well done to mummies and daddies too! I'll see you all next week!"

Alexia keeps a grip on your hand, swinging your arms as she heads out to the car, packing it up with both of your bags and buckling you into your car seat.

"I had a lot of fun today, bambi," She tells you as she heads down the familiar road towards the house," It was very interesting to see what your classes are like."

"You did very well, Mami," You say earnestly, nodding your head," I wish parents could always been in my classes. It's more fun when there's grown ups."

Alexia laughs. "If there were always grown ups then you'd never get anything done! The mummies and daddies will keep falling over and the whole class will just be everyone laughing at us."

You shake your head. "I wouldn't laugh at your, Mami. Promise."

Alexia smiles at you in the rear view mirror.

"I'm glad, bambi."

There's silence for a moment and then," Do you want to practice at my barre at home? For when parents can come back to class?"

"That sounds perfect."

[hypewinter]

Hal bent down as the little girl approached him. Even then, he still managed to tower over her with how small she was.

"Hey there little lady," he said. "Anything I can help you with this fine evening?"

The little girl looked at him anxiously, fiddling with her hands. Ok so not a nervous fan. Hal immediately switched to serious mode, scanning the crowd for anyone who could be her parents. He didn't see anyone running up to the two of them or even so much as keeping a watchful eye from a distance.

"Is something the matter?" Hal questioned, making sure to keep his voice even and calm.

The girl continued fidgeting, her big blue eyes scanning from side to side. Finally she spoke. "You wiff da space po-eece yes? Not da am-ear-ree-ca one?"

Hal smiled at the girl. "Yes, I'm with the space police." Honestly that was oversimplifying the Corps a little but he had long since gotten to citizens calling him a space cop.

The girl offered up a small nervous smile of her own. "So you won't tell da gov-ment what I tell you wight?"

Hal was on high alert now. Just what was this little girl trying to tell him? "I won't tell. I promise," he said after a second.

The girl broke into a big smile at this. "Really? Dis way den." She started tugging Hal along and he began to follow.

"Where exactly are we going?" he asked.

"You see," was all she replied.

Hal was led down a couple different alleyways and was beginning to think he was walking into a trap when they reached an abandoned building. The girl dashed in and up the old rusted stairs, with Hal following closely behind her.

If this really is a trap, I'll never hear the end of it from Batman, he thought morbidly as he cleared the last step. Instead of finding himself facing an ambush however, he saw a boy curled up on an old mattress. The girl was already by his side as Hal approached.

"Don wowee Danny, I got help. Like I said I would," he caught the little girl whispering as he knelt down next to the boy. He had to have been older than the girl. Three years older maybe? Yet he was still so small. Hal took sight of his condition. He was in pain. That much was certain by his little face scrunched up in agony and his quiet moans. He was also sweating profusely. His raven black hair sticking to his forehead. Fever maybe?

Hal continued his observations as he scanned down the boy's body until he got to his stomach. The boy was clutching it and Hal could make out blood bleeding through from underneath. Oh no.

He quickly yet carefully removed the boy's arm to get a better look at the wound. The kid let out a groan as his arm was peeled away. Hal couldn't help but thank Oa for all his training that helped prevent him from letting out a gasp.

The boy's chest was covered in blood. Dark red mixed with flecks of green soaked through his shirt and there were bandages that had been amateurishly tied around the wound.

"How did this happen?" Hal asked, turning back to the girl. He did his best to keep his tone as gentle as possible.

Her smile was gone now, and her eyes welled up with tears. "He pwotected me," she said. "Dey wanted to huwrt us. Dey shot at us. Danny pwotected me."

Anger boiled within Hal. Who would shoot at these children? They were only little kids. If what the girl had said earlier was anything to go off of, the answer had something to do with the government. He would have to take care of that later though. For now, this boy needed medical attention.

"Let's get Danny to a hospital," Hal said resolutely, as he got up.

"No!" the little girl screeched. "No has-pee-tail. Too dan-er-us!"

"But he needs-" Hal started but then he met the girl's eyes. There was abject fear in them. As if going to the hospital would be a death sentence for both children. Where else were they supposed to go though? The boy- Danny needed medical attention stat. That much was certain.

Hal paused. There was one place. He sighed. Batman was going to kill him for this.

"Okay okay. No hospital. But what about space?"

"Space?" the girl repeated.

Hal nodded.

The little girl smiled. "Danny lobes space!"

"Well then. That's perfect."

Hal constructed a new bed for the boy, carefully easing him onto it before putting a protective dome around both children. The little girl giggled as he lifted them up. He then turned to the wall where he created a giant hammer to knock it down. Then they were off. Flying higher and higher, towards the atmosphere. As the Watchtower got closer in sight, Hal couldn't help but groan. Taking civilians to the Watchtower? Oh yeah, Batman was definitely going to kill him.

[apocalypse-shuffle]

BLACK NOIR | EARVING (the boys)

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“Promotion” (Black Noir x Fem!Reader)

| Being Black Noir’s new handler and him becoming obsessed with you since Mr. Edgar himself assigned you to him.

| SFW, vought employee!reader, (TW: Noir is kind of stalking the Reader, who’s uncomfortable but adapting mostly)

| 1k+ words

“You want me to…what?”

“Be Noir’s new personal handler.” He fans his hands out on the table with a shrug and gives you a disarming smile. “You’ll be expected to parlay direct mission instructions from me, accompany him to said missions and stay with the deployment team. I expect you to give written reports on his performance at the end of every day, active mission or not…”

Your eyes continue to widen as his barrage keeps going. This job would require you to be present for everything short of Noir wiping his ass and even then you’ll be outside the restroom.

Mr. Edgar finishes, gives you an expectant look, and you clear your throat.

“And, what if I don’t want the new position?”

“I don’t see why not.” He shrugs, “I mean unless you don’t think you’re good enough for the promotion. Then I suppose I’ll just have to tell Ashley her recommendation was for naught.”

You laugh.

“No no, that’s fine. There’s no need to tell her anything…” you gulp, watching the man just look back at you before taking a second more to inhale, “…ex-cept that her recommendation payed off.”

He tilts his head and it feels like his eyes are boring through your own, boiling your brain to mush. Your voice is small as you push the rest of your words out in one exhale.

“And that I’ll be starting my new position tomorrow. Sir.”

You stretch a smile across your face and hiss out a sigh of relief as that finally gets the man to respond.

He instantly reanimates, reaching atop his desk to hand you a secure black portfolio made from hard plastic.

“That’s great. I’m glad you decided to take on this new journey, Ms. L/n. May it serve you well. Have a good day.”

You don’t dare drop your smile as you take the offered portfolio and shove it under your arm.

“Right.” You take a moment to mourn the loss of your old job before nodding, “Thank you for the opportunity, Sir. You have a good day as well.”

The older man nods back at you, attention immediately gone back to his computer monitor afterward. You blow out air from your nose and then turn on your heels.

It’s not until you’ve left the board room that it hits you.

“Shit.”

The man had just played you. Goddamn Edgar and his resoluteness. Once he’d decided to “ask” you about the upgrade in position he never intended for it to be an actual request.

You rub your temple and head to the restroom. At least you had the rest of the hours in the day before tackling your new job.

You hunker down in the stall after peeing to look over the papers Mr. Edgar gave you. As you're skimming through a whole lot of shit marked “classified” or “redacted” you have the stray thought to be glad that Translucent’s creep ass wasn’t here to ogle you and be all in your business anymore.

Thank the higher power for small mercies, you suppose.

All the snippets of information you're gathering are kind of baffling. Legal name: Earving (of all things), biological male, six foot two, African-American (that’s fun; may be the reason he took such a liking to you too, not many black people made it to the top floors of Vought after all). You dog-ear a packet about some sort of imaginary animals he sees in his mind before looking over a page about a severe peanut allergy. Hmm.

By the end of the day you’ve nearly gotten all the way through Noir’s portfolio, and you’ve also worked up an itch to get out of your skin that means you’re not working overtime worth a goddamn.

At six o’clock on the dot all of your crap is already quite thoroughly packed, your former workspace - barren thing that it already was due to regulations - was cleaned out and ready for the next poor soul, and you’re in the elevator heading for the sub-level garage.

Dead stare locked onto the floor numbers you become acutely aware of the bags weighing your eyes down.

“Fuck,” you sigh.

Black Noir's Personal Handler.

Despite Mr. Edgar’s clear efforts it was more than a little known open secret that personal handlers rarely got to retire. Madelyn Stillwell’s death might’ve been something none of you dared discuss for fear of either Edgar or - heaven forbid - Homelander catching wind and putting you back in your place, but it was a pattern of the job that you all were well aware of.

Though you’d take Mr. Edgar’s culling over whatever Homelander could possibly come up with.

Something about his blonde, blue-eyed, ass didn’t sit right with your spirit.

Far as PR and wrangling went though, short of maybe Starlight, any wrinkles Black Noir managed to make would be the easiest to smooth out.

Plus, even with you and Noir having some form of a pre-established relationship it was in no way dependent or built upon you being Noir’s emotional epicenter like Madelyn and Homelander’s weird…dynamic was.

You had seen and heard far too much in your years working for Vought to think for a second that there wasn’t something dark and twisted going on with The Seven, but Noir still seemed mellow in comparison to the rest and their constant ego trips and dick measuring.

You had zero clue how letting the fully covered man teach you a few notes to a song at the Christmas party when everyone was drunk off eggnog and watered down booze and sitting with him when he was crying on the floor once led you to this.

Sure the silent man and you had somewhat hit it off - so far as you were one of the few non-supers he didn’t intimidate or just flat out ignore - but to be made so intimately in charge of him seemed like a bit much.

Noir had seemed endlessly patient with you as he played for you and then eventually decided he’d teach you how to play the piano yourself, the sides of your bodies’ shifting incrementally until you were pressed flush to one another in both of yous concentration, so you could really only hope he kept that same levelness with you as his handler.

You bank the corner, work bag and portfolio on the same arm, and fish out your keys so you can unlock your trunk and shove your shit inside.

Hope truly was the name of the game here unfortunately. You could only hope Noir kept up his “good” streak, and that that streak wasn’t just a farce that you were now in charge of covering up. Hope that he didn’t end up getting angry or reckless and making you one of those *redacted* cases with a ‘cause of death, unknown’ attached to your name, because you could do nothing to stop him if he wanted to kill you.

Shiver racking up your spine and turning your blood to static, you snap your trunk closed, turning to leave when—

“—Fucking Christ!”

Eyes gone wide and spit having nearly choked you from your sharp inhalation before your exclamation, you do your best to appear composed as Black Noir himself steps out from a conclave of shadows to stand in front of you.

The Devil, you find yourself thinking. Had he been following you this whole time?

For his part Noir doesn’t move aside from cocking his head to the side.

Steadily, you force calmness onto yourself. Ignoring that your voice is too high when you call his name.

“Black Noir,” you say, trying to seep the professionalism back into your tone while smoothing down the creases in your pantsuit, “surprised to see you here. What can I do for you?”

The smile you offer him feels wonky even as you command the muscles up, but it’s the best you can do with your heart hammering against your chest as if it wants to run off and leave you behind.

For a couple more beats the man doesn’t do more than size you up presumably before finally - as you were weighing the pros and cons of just getting in your car despite his presence - raising a hand to point at your trunk.

You catch on to his meaning fairly quickly, your smile dropping to something more natural whilst you huff a tiny laugh.

“Oh yeah, guess Mr. Edgar must’ve told you. I’m your new handler - you know, if you had one before that is. I don’t…actually know…” you trail off, shifting on your heels when Noir only continues to keep his stillness.

“Mhm,” you mutter, rocking backwards, just staring until finally Noir shifts and there’s suddenly a pad and pen in his hand.

He flips casually to a clear page before starting to write and you’re fairly sure this is the first time he’s ever actually ‘talked’ to you.

Huh.

Not long after does the pad get flipped over and brandished to you. You click your teeth together.

‘Edgar says you’ll do good,’ he scribbles, writing absolute chicken scratch and letters far too large on the medium sized pages, before flipping the pad back to himself and writing some more.

‘Believe in you!’ and a whole bunch of smiley faces is what meets you once he lets you see.

You blink. Noir puts the pad back wherever he had it initially to give you two thumbs up.

You muster a slightly bigger half smile for his efforts.

“Thanks Noir,” you say, words more sincere than you’d been expecting.

A nod and an eternity more of silence and staring is what he gives you in response.

You’re getting ready to shift, to awkwardly relay that you’d like to be getting home soon, when Noir stiffens suddenly - and isn’t that startling, a man so tall and so strapped with sharp explosive deadly things going so alert like that - head tilting like he’s listening for something.

A few seconds go by like that where he doesn’t do anything else and you fight to keep yourself still, smile gone and part of your lip caught firmly between your teeth.

Then Noir’s giving you a nod and leaving just as silently and unseenly as he had come.

You wait another two-three beats before scrambling into your car. The sound of your lock engaging sounds like salvation and the steering wheel feels like a lifeline as you grip it with stiff nearly foreign fingers.

God.

You force a deep breath into your lungs, make sure it comes out more steadily than it came in.

At least Mr. Edgar didn’t dump you onto Homelander’s lap. Something in you shrivels up and dies at the mere prospect. You nod, your hands flexing on the steering wheel.

This was definitely better.

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!

This is a semi companion story to “Pandora’s Melody” if you’d like to check that one out as well.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it!

[pretty-toru]

lovesick┆gojo satoru

୧ genre: fluff

୧ wc: 1.4k

୧ synopsis: megumi is sick with a common cold, and gojo is simply lovesick for you.

Gojo Satoru convinces himself that he's not jealous.

How could he feel such a prickling and burning sensation in his lower tummy, slowly rising towards his heart making his blood boil and face grow hot just because you're nursing eleven-year-old Megumi back to health? The same little rascal that he had previously gotten into a spat with over something stupid and it doesn't help that the brat's sticking his tongue out and pulling down his lower eyelid taunting him.

But of course, you're too busy doting over sweet and innocent Megumi to notice. Too preoccupied with fluffing the pillows for the young boy to rest his poor head on, gently tucking him in with a cozy throw blanket, putting something on the platinum screen with the promise of brewing him a ginger-honey tea to make him feel better.

No matter how much Gojo tries to ignore Megumi, his facial muscles twitch and contort on their own in utter dismay and his Six Eyes zeroes in on the couch-ridden boy with his lips curling into a deep frown before sticking his tongue back at him.

"Come on, Satoru. Be nice to him, he's really sick." You say as you start the kettle and reach for a mug from the cabinet. Gojo's forced to acknowledge that Megumi wasn't faking the snotty nose and loud sneezes, but he still doesn't like the idea of losing to one smug child and giving him the satisfaction that he's secured his revenge which is your devoted attention. Maybe Megumi knew that his guardian would go a wee-bit insane being treated as a second thought but Gojo will never admit that it's working.

"Hey honey, you know what? I don't feel so good either. Here, feel my forehead." Gojo takes your hand and places it over his forehead to check if it's warm to the touch and he makes sure to do his best impression of looking pathetically sick—droopy eyelids, jutting his lower lip into a pout, and slumped shoulders to get your sympathy.

"Satoru, you feel perfectly fine. There's nothing wrong with you."

"I swear I'm not feeling well. My throat feels weird and scratchy, my body feels flashes of hot and cold, my head is pounding and it's killing me, and.." Gojo tries to convince you that he's experiencing every symptom he could think of and you knew he was determined to be sick. Between your "uh-huh" and "right" you decide to humor him as you follow his explanation and tried your hardest to hold back a smile when he throws in an exaggerated detail or two.

"Alright, you big baby. We can't have you feeling sick now, can we? Can't have the strongest sorcerer out of commission for long, hm?"

"Nope, that'd be very bad. As long as you drop everything and pour all your attention on me, I should get better in no time. No pressure or anything, but the world does kinda depend on it~" Gojo flashes you a toothy grin then quickly remembers that he's supposed to be sick and feigns a cough or two averting your knowing glance.

"Hmm, okay I'll see what I can do. Now come here, let's get you all nice and comfortable so you can get your much-needed rest and get well again." You lead him to your shared bedroom and reflect the covers back for him to climb onto the mattress and ensure he's warm and cozy as you pull the comforter over him. For someone who's supposed to feel horribly ill Gojo sure can't seem to wipe the smile off his face. "You seem a little too happy to be sick, don't you think?"

"Just glad that you'll be the one to help me get back my strength is all." Through his fluttering lashes, he sports the most innocent and angelic expression he can muster and you can't help the soft giggle given his stellar performance up until this point.

"Alright, if you say so. I'll get you something to eat, okay? I'll be right back."

As you're turning on your heel to head for the door, Gojo pouts and protests. "Wha- No sweet kiss to hold me over? You might be a while and I'll get lonely since you're not here to keep me company."

"Aw, sorry baby. But you know there's no kissing until you're all better. Can't get myself sick now that I have to look after you and Megumi, right? I promise you I won't be long."

"...Not even a forehead kiss? :(" He murmurs under his breath as he watches your back to him and eventually disappears into another room. Once Gojo's left to his own devices, he wonders how long it would take you to complete your task on hand. He fiddles with his thumbs and counts the passing minutes. One minute becomes five, five becomes ten, then ten becomes twenty and he suddenly cannot bear to be apart from you much longer and checks on you.

"Sweetheart, what's taking you so long? I thoug-" And there he stumbles across the answer to his own question. Megumi is being spoon-fed rice porridge by you because he claims that his arms are too weak to do it himself and you couldn't leave him starved in his condition. Gojo appears crestfallen and disgruntled in the throw blanket draped over his lanky body and with a small huff he grumbles, "So that's what you've been up to. Fine, fine I guess it's up to me to take care of myself, huh?"

"What's wrong with him? Is he sick too or something?" Megumi asks nonchalantly as he watches his mentor's dejected form return to his bedroom to sulk. You gently shake your head and offer the young boy a soft smile, but you do feel a little bad that your husband has been acting unusual lately hence his needy and clingy tendencies.

"He's just going through a phase, but don't you worry about him and focus on getting better, okay? I'll find a way to make it up to him."

When you enter your shared bedroom with a platter of breakfast in your grasp, you found Gojo hiding under the covers in an attempt of giving you his silent treatment. You place the serving tray of food on the nightstand and situate yourself on the bed beside him, smoothing your hand over his covered shoulder as he's laid on his side with his face away from you. "Satoru, my love, I've brought you breakfast."

With a soft shrug of his shoulder, he responds with a strained hum but you know it's just him being melodramatic because he could never truly be mad at you. "Do you wanna tell me what's on your mind? I'm all yours if you come on out from under the covers."

Gojo shifts his body weight around and tufts of white hair start to peek as he gradually pulls the blanket down until you meet his azure gaze and he receives your sweet smile. "Hey there, is everything alright? Did I do something to upset you?" The tender warmth of your hand finds its home on his cheek with a gentle caress and he sighs contently at the familiar touch. You're patient as you wait for him to gather his thoughts, your fingers moving to his soft tendrils in soothing motions and he inches closer to you.

"You've never done a single thing wrong ever. You are perfect," he begins slowly. "I just missed you and ever since I got back from my mission you were too busy with the kids (Megumi and Tsumiki) that we haven't had any time together and I just wanna be with you." Gojo confesses as he's playing with the hem of your shirt, feeling a bit vulnerable to look you straight in the eyes. "Oh, and another thing... I'm not actually sick I only said that so you'd notice me more."

"Thanks for being honest with me. And I knew that you weren't sick. For someone who's supposed to be good at anything he tries, I'm glad that you turned out to be a pretty bad liar."

Gojo's face heats up at that and he unceremoniously buries his face in your lap from embarrassment, as muffled words of "Oh, so you knew. I thought I was pretty convincing" managed to reach your ears.

"Tell you what, how about we have ourselves a nice picnic this weekend? Just the two of us, I'll find someone to watch the kids. And I think maybe spending an afternoon in the sunshine will do us some good. What do you think?"

Gojo suddenly lights up at your proposal. "I think you're wonderful for planning the perfect date."

"You're sweet for giving me so much credit." Your soft laughter quickly melts his heart and he returns your affections, feeling a little more in love with you as you're both sharing a moment together. "I love you."

"I love you so much more, my sweet angel."

[thebibliosphere]

Hm. I'm rereading something I wrote, and I can't decide if it's going to be infuriating for some readers, or if there will be more going "OH, same!"

Given that my readership is largely in the Autistic 🤝ADHD vampire fan club (Vlad), I'm hoping it'll be the latter, but it's still making me hesitate because it's not how people expect sex scenes to read.

Everything's usually boiled down to a laser-focused precision of sensations and evocative, heated language -- and that does eventually happen with this. You just have to get past Vlad's brain wandering around for a bit because while Nathan's doing a good job of getting his attention in the moment, he's not being consistent, and it's giving Vlad's brain time to wander. Like noticing that Nathan squints a bit when he reads. ("(Hyperopia, Vlad’s brain supplied helpfully before he could smother it.)") Or just generally having full-on conversations in his head in the downtimes between stimulation -- and by downtime, I mean the split second it takes for Nathan to grab something from the nightstand.

Another part of me worries people will think I'm playing to stereotypes or I'm hamming it up to be "quirky," but given my brain is the epitome of the "hyper 8-year-old boy who can't sit still shiny disorder" despite being a 36yo cis woman, I've pretty much resigned myself to some people calling Vlad a stereotype anyway.

A larger part of me just... kind of really wants to see this kind of thing in a sex scene. I want to see my own thought patterns and acknowledge that even when you're getting hot and heavy with someone -- arguably an act that should consume all of your attention -- you'll still find your mind wandering. You'll notice something out the corner of your eye and go, "fucking shit, laundry, do not forget, do not forget" (and then you'll forget), or you'll be about to go down on someone, and the dick joke your friend told you three months ago will pop into your head and suddenly you're snickering with no tactful way to explain it.

(This is another thing that I always think is sorely lacking in sex scenes. No one's messy. No one's laughing like an idiot because they just thumped their head into the headboard, or a joke just popped into their head. Or someone's body made a fart sound because there's lube in places and things are thrusting. Like, maybe it's me, maybe I'm weird, but I think those are the moments you can build real romance out of. Not necessarily erotica, because those things (supposedly) aren't sexy, but there's so much emotion you can show with partners who are able to laugh with each other in those moments. You can show so much love and reverence through the mundane it hurts.)

It'd just be nice, for once, to have the character be absolved of the guilt that often happens in those moments because you're supposed to be focusing on what is happening, and your idiot brain just won't shut up.

Ultimately, it doesn't matter too much. It's a short story I'm hoping to fling out at some point (as soon as my idiot brain shuts up and lets me finish it). But it feels more important than it actually is because it feels like I'm exposing a major part of my psyche. Like pinning down all the ugly parts of my brain that can't ever actually be pinned down, no matter how much I try.

idk. Words. Things. Stuff. I'm going to try and finish this and then see what I want to do with it.

[jyoongim]

~BLOOD & BLISS~

Human!Alastor x wife!Reader

Themes: 1930 based! Human!Alastor x wife!Reader, domestic life! fluff, smut, devotion, slight manipulation, mention of children, pregnancy,  blood, murder, secrets 

Chapter two chapter four

Chapter 3

Note: sooooo as y’all know Alastor and wife!reader have already been married for a few years (by the time they have their last child their marriage will be 16-20 years.) 

Since you had mentioned wanting children, Alastor has taken it upon himself to fuck you on very surface in the house. You had never seen your husband so riled up. When he returned from work, he would always somehow coax you upstairs to make a mess of you. You were often filled with his cum that you were sure you had to be pregnant by now, but you didn’t think about it too much, just letting nature do its thing.

You were prepping for lunch, as Alastor said he wanted to come home and eat.  You decided to keep it simple, opting to make salmon cakes and cabbages. The cabbages were boiling as you moved on to make the cakes. When you opened the can of fish, the smell made you queasy, making your stomach lurch and you quickly made yourself to the bathroom.

You had broken out in a cold sweat as you dry heaved into the toilet. You whimpered as your stomach twisted. You have never had such a reaction to fish before, so why did you feel so sick all of a sudden?

You splashed some cold water on your face and looked at your reflection.

Eyes scanning yourself in the mirror,  you couldn’t see what ailment had fallen over you. You looked a little pale but that could be from anything. Your eyes lingered on your midsection.

could you be…

You turned and pressed your hands against your stomach, smoothing out your dress to be flat. Heart beating out your chest, you caressed your stomach. Your stomach had a slight bump, something that you had chalked up from your indulgence in sweets. But it was rounder than how it usually looked.

Your eyes widened and quickly went downstairs to phone the doctor.

—————————————————————————————-

“Well ma’am congratulations! It would appear you are around 12 weeks.” 

The doctor smiled at you, waiting for your response.

You were stunned. 

Pregnant.

You were pregnant.

You cleared your throat nervously “w-what am i suppose to do?”

The question held uncertainty but you had no idea what or how to process this news.

A small part of you was happy, you finally were gonna have a baby with Alastor. The other part was nervous and scared, you didn’t have the slightest thought on how to raise a child.

The doctor chuckled “Its normal to be scared or nervous. This is your first time after all but don’t worry. I recommend attending mothering classes, to get the knowledge and familiar with baby terms, symptoms, and how to prepare. You’re a bit vitamin-deficient but more fruits and greens can help with that. You’ll experience morning sickness here and there so don’t push yourself. The important thing is that you get as must rest as possible. Stress isn’t good for you or the baby.”

You jotted down some notes as the doctor filled you with some information and thanked him for his time. He gave you your next appointment and answered any other health questions you had. You made a mental note to visit these mommy classes.

You sighed as you closed the door to your home. Your mind was reeling and you were filled with so many emotions.

You hadn’t thought you would get pregnant so soon but Alastor was very if not persistent when it came to keeping you filled.

You soon had a smile on your face as you thought of the little one growing within you. You knew Alastor didn’t mind having a baby, but you couldn’t help but wonder how he would react to the news. 

Would he be excited to be a Daddy? Would he want a boy or a girl?

You were sure he wouldn’t mind either way.

You couldn’t wait to tell him the good news.

————————————————————————————————-

Alastor let some jazz tunes play as he looked over some scripts and news for his next segment. He stole a glance at the clock and got up from his chair, grabbing his jacket.

 It was lunch time.

He was headed home to spend his break with his wife.

A pleasant shiver ran through him at the thought of taking his sweet wife over the meal she prepared for him.

He had been fucking his wife nonstop since she mentioned children and the thought of her swollen with his child always sent his cock swelling.

He placed his hat and jacket on the couch as he made his way to the kitchen. He was greeted with the sight of you dressed fairly comfortable, not in your usual polished attire. Your hair was pinned up and wrapped, you were dressed in your silk robe, which was dropping off your shoulders, exposing them. You were humming as you washed the dishes.

You looked ravishing.

He crept up behind you, making you jolt when his long arms wrapped around your midsection. He pressed his lips to the junction of your neck, littering your shoulder and neck in kisses. “Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes darlin” he drawled, nuzzling his nose into the underside of your jaw. You giggled as Alastor nipped at your skin, wiping your soapy hands on a towel you spun around to wrap your arms around his neck, leaning up to kiss his lips “Hello to you too dear. I hope you’re hungry. I made fish cakes. Dont want you too tired heavy with a full meal when you have to dazzle the masses”

A wide smile stretched across his face, eyes lidded “What if I just want dessert?” He jested as you swatted at his broad chest with a blush sprouting on your face.

“Oh shush! Sit down and eat” you huffed, shoving a plate into his chest.

Alastor chuckled and took the plate and moved to leaned over the kitchen island.

”Are you feeling ok my dear? Not that I mind, no, but you seem tired” he took a took a sip of tea, eyeing you.

You fidget with your fingers “I am feeling better, had a bit of a upset stomach this morning and paid the doctor a visit” you tried to hide your smile as his brows furrowed and dropped the cake to look you over like a worried hen.

His hands took yours as he frowned “you’re not coming down with anything are you? Why ain’t you page me at the studio i would have gladly took you.”

You leaned into his chest, smiling at him “weeelll i did come down with something and I fear i wont be rid of it anytime soon” oh you were torturing the poor man.

He had panic in his eyes as he was unaware of what it was. Wanting to remain strong and supportive for your sake.

”well whatever it is I will make sure to be there with you through it all” he declared.

Oh this was sweet.

”did the doctor tell you what it was at least?” He asked.

You smiled, catching him off guard, as you placed his hands on your stomach. Alastor was confused when you did so, his hands spanned along your stomach. You were a bit rounder but you did like sweets.

You watched as the realization dawned on his face. His jaw dropped and his brown eyes looked at your in shock. “A-are you…” you frantically nodded, unable to conceal your giggling as he wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you.

”Oh darling really? Youre..you’re really? Youre pregnant?” His voice grew excited.

”hehehe yes yes were having a baby! Alastor we are having a baby” your face was attacked in kisses. “Doc said im 12 weeks, looks like your resilience paid off” you giggled as your husband smoothed his hands over your stomach, crouching down as he laid his forehead against the bump.

”A-are you happy?” You couldn’t help but ask. He looked up at you, eyes shining and smile big “Oh baby you just don’t know.” He kissed your stomach, cooing, before kissing your lips. “You’ve made me the happiest. Almost like we got married all over again” he whispered against your lips.

He rested a hand on your stomach, caressing the bump. “Ooh I can’t wait to see how motherhood shapes you cher” he kissed your forehead, making you sigh lovingly.

Alastor had decided to page the studio to tell them something came up at home and the two of you spent the rest of the afternoon cuddled on the couch; Alastor had you tucked into his side as he stroked your stomach, already in love. The two of you had discussed what the next steps would be and how to move forward. 

All the sweetness and lovey-dovey led to the two of you giving into more sensual desires, really just enjoying each other and reestablishing the love between the two of you. 

You slipped your robe back on as you broke the heated kiss your husband had pulled you into. He groaned when you pulled away and went to get off his lap, hands kneading your hips. “Where you going sweetness” he purred as you giggled standing

”To freshen up. Since you’re home maybe we can really hunker down on what we gonna do for this baby mister” you said heading upstairs. Alastor pouted, listening to your footsteps move around. He got up and went to put up the lunch you made, he’ll take it with him when he’s out working late.

Speaking of which….he needed to spruce up a few loose ends he had been watching and would let to get those done before you needed all his attention.

He was confident in his ability to keep his sins away from your lives at home, after all he had crafted a beautiful reality here with you and he didn’t want that to be ruined by anything or anyone.

He whistled an old tune as he thought of you and a smile appeared on his face.

He was over the moon to find out you were pregnant. 

He couldn’t wait to see how motherhood treated you. 

To watch your body transform to provide for his child. How did he get so lucky to have a woman like you?

He wondered if you’ll have a boy or girl, he preferred a baby girl but he didn’t really care as long as you were happy.

After he cleaned up the kitchen he headed upstairs and Alastor swore his heart skipped a beat at the sight before him.

You were asleep on your side, one hand under your cheek and the other resting against the small baby bump, slowly stroking it. He threw a blanket over you and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. Satisfied that you were comfortable, he got his clothes from the other day from the closet and headed downstairs outback to wash his clothes.

It was gonna be a pain to get the stains out.

————————————————————————————

Sooooo what do you guys think?? I hate im going so slow but i need to build up some plot lol. I promise Alastor gone slip up!!

Remember to comment on pin for tag and like and comment!

@luzzbuzz@for-hearthand-home@hazelfoureyes@southern-bayou-beau@thewinchestah@siiv3r@smoky000@yunimimii@certifiedcrybabyyy@nightshadelm@lunaramune@theveiledlibrarian@jellibean2018@yourdoorisunlocked@okay-babe@nettaw@catherine1206@purplecatsandhearts@simphornies@alastor-simp@alastorsgirl48@alastorsaries@peachedtvs@altruisticalastor@dennsfz@strawberrypimp666@stawberrypimpsimp@alastwhore666@alastorsdear@nanami1chu@menthatilove@dasimp777@queenariesofnarnia@th3-st4r-gur1@markster666

[darkbluekies]

i have been DREAMING of a silas torture scene!!! i have literally read, re-read, and re-re-read every word you’ve ever written about that man .. you have no IDEA how much I am going to eat up his torture story 🤭🤭 thank you for feeding us!!! <3<3

In the basement

Mafia!yandere OC x reader

Summary: you find yourself in Silas' basement once again and he decides to try a new torture technique — which backfires.

Warnings: torture, violence, mentions of starvation, manipulation burning, boiling water, mentions of cuts, mentions of sawing off people's limbs, ripping out teeth and nails, blood, beating, (let me know if you find more, I have been editing and rewriting so much that I've forgotten what is in the story at this point)

Word count: 3.5k

You lift your head when you can hear footsteps coming towards you. The mumble of Silas men greeting someone is all you need to know who’s here to see you. 

“There we have them”, Silas snickers and clicks his tongue amusedly. He’s acting as if he’s talking to a child. “Are we ready to act like a big girl/boy again?”

You glare up at him, where he stands with his hands in his front pockets. If you could, you’d tackle him until he hits his head, but your ankles are chained to the cold floor.

“I fucking hate you”, you mutter coldly. 

“Oh, do you now?” he chuckles cockily  and grabs your chin firmly, tilting it up to look at him. 

Your neck gets strained beyond its limits. Silas is tall and refuses to crouch down to make it easier for you to look up at him.

"Still disobeying?" he asks. "I thought you'd be good by now. I miss you, little thing. I want to have you back in my arms. Who am I supposed to hug at night?"

"Hug a cactus", you spit. "Suits your pleasant personality-"

Silas chuckles and grabs a fistful of your hair. He sinks down in front of you and forces you to look at him. Your eyes widen in fear and your scalp burns at his fingertips. You can feel your heart beat harshly in your chest. Suddenly, you remember why you've been afraid of him before — why his techniques always work. You seem to forget the basement when you've been let out, everything turning into a blur. All you remember is that you do not want to go back. But somehow, you always manage to.

"You don't want me to be nice, do you?" he asks you. "Want me to break that pretty little head until you're bleeding, hm?"

You shake your head quickly. Suddenly, you've figuratively your tongue — and if you're not careful you'll soon literally lose it. 

Silas lets go of your hair and stands up. You keep your head down. 

“Hm, what should we do to teach you a lesson?” Silas thinks out loud and takes a hold of your hand. “Should we … break some fingers?”

You shake your head quickly and try to take your hand back. Silas holds it tightly and brings out a lighter from his pocket. You panic and try to rip your hand out of his iron grip. Silas traps you against the wall with his knee and elbow keeping you in place. He shifts his bodyweight onto you and traps your arm onto the wall by securing your wrist to the surface. With his other hand, he brings out his lighter. You squirm desperately under him.

“Alright, I’m not going to break your pretty fingers”, he says. “You need them to please me.” 

“Please, please, don’t!” you screech and try to kick him. “Silas, don’t!”

He lights it.

“Do you know how my heart feels right now, Y/N?” he asks calmly. “It’s burning. I think it’s only fair for you to feel it too, to understand how hurt I feel.”

He moves the flame to your arm, holding it under your skin. You cry out in pain and apply more force to your wiggling. A stance of burning flesh reaches your nose. Silas holds the flame for a good thirty seconds before removing it. He brushes some soot off of your arm and bends down to kiss it. He moves on to your next arm, then your waist. You finally manage to pull your arms free and push him away. You try to sink down on the floor, but he lifts you up by your shoulders. 

“I need you to stand up for me”, Silas says. “Still with me?”

Your face scrunches up in pain. Silas shakes you carefully. 

“Still with me, baby?” he asks in a loving voice that doesn’t match his manners. 

You nod weakly. Silas smiles slightly and places you back at the wall. Your poor legs are still cuffed and feeling like jelly. Silas chuckles. 

He looks over his shoulder as two of his men come in with four buckets of water. You stare at them with wide eyes. This is new. 

“You know I can’t hurt you”, Silas says and walks over to the buckets. 

“Can’t hurt me?” you repeat in disbelief and show your arms full of cuts and bruises. “You’ve burned me! You’ve cut me!”

“You should see what he does to people he doesn’t like”, one of his men smirks. 

“Don’t talk to them”, Silas warns him and grabs the man by his collar. “Or you’ll get to taste what I do to those I don’t like.”

“Yes, sir, sorry, sir.”

Silas lets him go and grabs one of the buckets. He walks back to you where you stand against the wall. You want to sink into it. With your eyes glued onto the bucket, you open your mouth to ask what he’s going to do but you don’t have time to do so before he throws it at you. You hide your face with your arms and scream. Boiling hot water crashes against your body. Your dirty clothes stick onto you and quickly grow cold. You breathe heavily and look at Silas in shock and pain. He has already turned around to get the next bucket. Suddenly, everything’s ice cold and you scream again. Somehow, it’s worse this time. The quick temperature change feels like sharp needles penetrating your skin. You’re sure that Silas’ men upstairs can hear you by now. 

You shake your head in desperation as you see Silas pick up the next bucket. 

“Silas, please-”, you cry out. 

“You caused this yourself, Y/N”, Silas reminds you. “You have one simple rule: do not leave me. And what did you do?”

You stay quiet. He throws the next buckets full of water. Scorching hot. You scream even louder and start to sob. 

“What did you do?” Silas asks testingly and walks over to the last bucket. 

“I-I tried to run away!” you cry out and hug your shaking body. 

“And?” 

He picks up the next bucket. 

“I talked to a cop!” you sob and press yourself closer to the cement wall. “I’m sorry, I’ll never do that again! Please don’t hurt me anymore! Please, Silas, I-I’ll do anything!”

Silas scoffs. “You wanted to leave me, get me in trouble and destroy everything I’ve built up these last ten years! And I’m just supposed to … forgive you?”

You sob. You know how proud Silas is of his imperium. He's spent the last ten years building it to become the most fearless and powerful criminal in the country. You just wanted him to feel as helpless as you do.

Silas throws the last bucket at you and an icy waterfall greets you. One last scream leaves your panicked body. You sink down in a curled up ball as you hug your body, trying to keep some kind of warmth and shield. You sob and whimper with your head full of fear and nerve system confused. Silas throws the plastic bucket to the side and walks over to you. He sinks down in front of your body and grabs your chin between his index finger and thumb, like he did before. 

“What do I need to do to make you obedient?” he asks. “Do I need to kill everyone to make you stay with me?”

“Please …”, you plead through hammering teeth. “Please don’t, please-”

He hushes and cups your cold, wet cheeks. 

“You only need me anyway”, he says softly. “All those other people — your family, your friends — they don’t care about you like I do, do they? They just pretend to spare your feelings. Have they even tried to find you? Or help you? They’re probably going on with their lives the same, as if nothing has changed, in this precise moment.”

“You don’t know that”, you whisper and sniffle. 

“I do know. I have been watching them.” Silas moves closer to you. “If they really cared about you, they’d tell you when you did something wrong, and then help you fix it. That's what families do, they help you become a better version of yourself. They wouldn’t lie and let you destroy and embarrass yourself. The reason I put you down here, Y/N, is because you're my family, someone I care very much about. I have to teach you a lesson to make sure that you don’t do anything dumb. You’re a danger to yourself. You need me to take care of you, to teach you what is right and wrong.” He caresses your cheeks. “If only you didn’t do such stupid things I wouldn’t have to do these hurtful things. You know I love you.”

You sob and look down. 

"Say it back, Y/N", he urges you. "Say that you love me."

"I … I love you", you mumble.

"Good girl/boy."

Silas warm lips presses a hard kiss to your forehead before standing up. You sit frozen while he walks up the stairs. 

Silas leaves you alone for another twenty four hours before he walks down again, to see if you’ve broken yet. If you haven’t, he’s going to take your clothes and carve in his name in your leg to force you to see his name every time you open your eyes. He sees you curled up in a ball in the corner of the dark, cold basement. You’re not moving. 

“Are you sleeping, baby?” he smirks. “Rise and shine, we have work to do! We’re not done yet.”

You don’t move. You must be weak from hunger. 

“If you act well today, I might get you something to eat”, he smiles and walks over to you. “Would you like that?”

He’s much, much nicer to you than to the other people who have the displeasure of ending up in his basement. He would never talk to them as sweetly as he does to you, never negotiate with them like this. He would never change his torture methods to be nicer to anyone else but you. 

“Y/N.”

You don’t give him any attention. Silas rolls his eyes and grabs your hair to turn your face to him. You moan out a weak painful sound. Something’s wrong, Silas can tell that. He sinks down in front of you and presses his hand to your forehead. 

Shit.

Silas can feel how his heart skips a beat. He should have realized that you would have gotten sick if he left you in this cold basement in your ice cold, soaked clothes and hair. He gulps and cups your cheeks. 

“Are you awake?” he asks quickly. “Baby, look at me.”

You open your eyes slowly and look at him with dull, glossy eyes. Silas looks over his shoulder, towards the stairs. 

“Get me the keys to the cuffs!” he roars. 

He turns back to you and hastily brushes the hair out of your face. 

“Hold out, darling”, he says softly. “You’ll be taken care of as soon as I get the key.”

You cough out a weak sound that seem to come from deep inside of you. Silas helps you by patting your back. 

A woman comes down and gives Silas’ his keys. He hurries to uncuff your ankles and pick your warm, limp body up in his arms. He hurries up the basement stairs and then up the next stairs to your bedroom. He takes your cold clothes off of you and gives you new, dry ones. His sweatpants, his t-shirt. You black out right away. He takes the time to take care of your older cuts and your newer burns before tucking you in bed. Silas watches you with a burning gaze. He clenches his jaw before walking out of the room. His second in command stands downstairs.

"You", he says angrily.

"Yes, boss?" he asks and looks up from his phone. "What can I help you with?"

"Go up to the bedroom and watch over Y/N. I don't want them to be alone."

"Sure, but what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to work a bit. I need to get my mind on other things."

"I will watch them for you."

"Thank you." He grabs his shoulder. "You know the rules. Recite them."

"I will not talk to them if not necessary. I will not answer any questions and I will not touch them if not necessary. I will let you know right away if something is wrong.”

Silas nods and walks away. He walks into his office and sits down behind his desk. Although he tries to concentrate on paperwork, anger is boiling through his veins. He doesn’t know what he’s angry at — himself, you or his men. Himself for forgetting that you could get extremely sick, his men for not warning him … or you for getting out of your punishment before he had gotten to the point he wanted. He tells himself that this sudden sickness is a part of your punishment, but it doesn’t help his racing heart. 

Silas pours himself a glass of brandy, in hopes to calm his nerves. The liquid burns down his throat and warms up his body, but it doesn’t help. Before he can stop himself, he throws the glass as hard as he can against the wall. It shatters into a million pieces. The door opens quickly. 

“Boss, what’s wrong?” one of his men asks. 

“Get me someone I can mangle or else I’ll go insane”, Silas breathes out through gritted teeth. “Take someone from the street if you have to — just bring me someone I can kill.”

You open your eyes and feel how a lump has grown in your throat. You try to cough and rip your entire vocal chords with it. A cough attack erupts from deep inside your stomach. Every cough hurts worse than the one before and every breath in feels as dry as an ocean. 

“Oh, careful”, a voice says and helps you sit up. He holds a glass of water to your lips. “Drink up.”

You recognize the man beside you. Silas’ second in command? Where’s Silas?

“You’re awake”, he states and stands up from his chair after putting down the glass. “I’ll go get the boss-”

You panic and shake your head.

“Please stay.” You’re caught by surprise that your voice comes out as nasally and thick as it does, although it shouldn’t surprise you in the slightest. “Don’t get him.”

“I have rules to follow.”

“I have to ask you something first.”

The second in command sighs and turns his head over his shoulder to look at you. He looks tired, but you can’t let him leave until you’ve had your question answered.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I’m not allowed to answer your questions”, he says. 

“I really need an answer”, you plead. 

“Silas will answer-”

“I don’t want his answer. He’ll lie to me. Please.”

He sighs and turns to you with his arms crossed over his muscular chest. “Let me hear the question first.”

“What do Silas do to the people he doesn’t like?”

Silas runs his hand through his sweaty hair. The man in front of him cries out. Silas has continued to throw punch after punch, using this strange man as a boxing doll. His fists are sore and bloody. Sweat drips down his back. The man in front of him has gotten his teeth pulled out with pliers, his hair has gotten cut down to his bleeding roots and nails have been ripped off. Silas had forgotten to gag him at first but the second the first loud scream exited the man's body, all he could see in front of him was your terrified eyes waking up to it.

"Boss, Y/N’s awake", a voice behind him says. Second in command.

"Fuck, I'm all bloody", Silas mutters and looks down at his black jeans and shirt that he's pulled the sleeves up on. "I can’t go up like this. Get me a washcloth."

The second in command drowns a cloth in a bucket of water. Silas uses it to scrub his arms, neck and face while walking up to you. When he opens the door, he finds you sitting up in bed, hugging your knees close to your chest.

"Hi, baby, how are you feeling?" he asks and sits down on the side of the bed.

Your eyes scan hum warily, stopping at his arms. Traces of blood can still be visible in the hair strands. Silas pulls down his sleeves.

"Don't worry about that", he says with an embarrassed smile. "How are you feeling, darling?"

"It hurts."

Silas reaches out to caress your cheek, but you flinch away. He frowns.

"I'm not going to hurt you anymore", he says carefully.

“Why are you bloody?” you whisper. “What have you done?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Why do you have to like me? Why do I have to go through this?”

You start to ramble for yourself and Silas hushes loudly. 

“You’re not making any sense, little thing”, he says. “Slow down, take a deep breath.”

“Why do you do those things to people?” you almost hyperventilate before starting to cough. 

Tears flow down your cheeks. You’re absolutely hysteric. Silas freezes. You know something.

“Why do I do what?” he asks quickly, grabbing your shoulders tightly. “Did someone tell you anything? What did they say?”

You sob and shake your head. 

“Y/N, if you don’t tell me what someone has put in your head-”, Silas says sternly. 

“You saw off people’s limbs!” you sob. “You … y-you-”

“Y/N, enough. Who told you?”

You don’t answer. Another cough attack erupts. Silas starts to get annoyed. 

“Y/N, who told you?” he asks through gritted teeth. “If you’re trying to hide someone, I’m throwing you back into the basement right away, with a fever or not.”

You sigh and glance up at him in pure fear. “Your second in command …”

“That motherfucker-”

Silas lets go off your shoulders and fly up from the bed. He can’t help but feel a deep ache in his heart. His second in command has been with him since he started his ‘organization’ — he’s been with him through thick and thin, had his back through everything. Him, out of anyone, knows the rules better. Silas trusts him to keep an eye on you alone, knowing that he would never betray him … or at least believing that.

He grabs his second in command and throws him against the wall.

“Traitor!” Silas growls. “You told them?!”

“They said that they had to know!” the second in command answered loudly, defending himself. “They wanted to know if you really love them! They wanted to know if you really were softer on them than others! They thought you’d lie if they asked you! I did you a fucking favour!”

They meet eyes for a few seconds before Silas curses and lets him go. He backs away, running his hand through his black hair. 

“Silas, I didn’t do anything to betray you”, the second in command says calmly. “I answered Y/N’s question in your favor. If I didn’t, they’d be even more wary of you.”

Silas doesn’t answer. His head and his heart are battling. 

He notices how you’re sitting at the top of the stairs, leaning against the railing, coughing into your arm. You’ve dragged yourself out of bed to stop him, but you couldn’t get far enough before your weak, aching body betrayed you.

“Y/N, what are you doing out of bed?!” Silas says sternly. “You need to rest!”

He runs up the stairs and picks you up. You’re tucked in again. 

“If you leave the bed again, I’ll have to cuff you”, he says carefully. “I don’t want you running around — especially when you’re sick.”

You’re very familiar with the chains that he uses to keep you in bed. Silas climbs sinto bed and sits on top of your legs to make sure you stay in place. 

“Y/N, Y/N, listen to me”, he says and cups your cheeks. “I could never do those things to you. You don’t have to be afraid of me.”

“You hurt me”, you remind him through sobs. “Even if it wasn’t as bad as you do to others, you still hurt me!”

“You know I don’t want to, but I have to. I have to make sure you don’t do stupid things like this — asking my men about my work. You know better than this and I know that. That’s why I’m helping you get back on the right track. If I don’t, you become like this, all frantic and scared. Why don’t you just let me protect you? Aren’t you tired of getting your heart in trouble? I know you are, baby …”

You sob which to him seems to be all the answers he needs.

“Trust me”, Silas says. “Trust that I know what’s best for you and you will never have to feel this kind of pain and fear again, okay?”

You can feel how your body starts to relax against your will. Silas wipes your tears and kisses your forehead. 

“My pretty, little baby”, he whispers comfortingly. “Everything will be okay. As long as I'm here, nothing will ever happen to you. I'll make sure of it, I'll help you.”

You sob and close your eyes. Once again, he wins.

[sincerelyyuu]

"in the end, it's still you." p1. • gojo satoru & geto suguru

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ synopsis: you thought having your two best friends satoru and suguru by your side was all that you needed to get through the rough times. but slowly you find satoru slipping through your fingers and suguru tries his hardest to help pick up the pieces of your wounded heart ➼ pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader, geto suguru x fem!reader ➼ content/tw: angst angst angst, sfw, fluff if you squint, s2 spoilers, teen!gojo and teen!geto during jujutsu tech days, both boys are hopelessly in love with bestfriend!reader, pet names, reader is also a sorcerer in the same year and is unaware of their romantic feelings ➼ wc: 2.8K words ➼ a/n: my first jjk fic! let me know how i did ♡ ➼ part one, part two, part three

The life of a sorcerer isn’t for the faint hearted. You found yourself spending your days constantly training, pushing your physical body to its limit. The way your skin crawled from the constant bloodshed that came with every curse you exorcised. The constant criticisms that came from the people around you to become even stronger weighing heavily on your mind.

The pressure was beginning to take a huge toll on you. You felt like you as an individual didn’t matter, your thoughts and feelings deemed irrelevant all in the name of saving others.

However, there were always two people that always made you feel seen.

Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru.

It all began when you were enrolled into Jujutsu High during your first year. Leaving behind the secluded town that you once called home, you were completely alone. Knowing what was expected from you, you were told that you were strictly here to become the strongest sorcerer you could be.

But fate had other plans for you. From the day you first stepped into the classroom, Satoru immediately gravitated to you. He knew you were strong and that there was more to you than meets the eye. You also peaked Suguru’s interest from the way you steeled yourself in an attempt to not reveal too much of your inner self. Somehow along the way through various missions and a multitude of adventures, the two men managed to crack away at your defenses and you found yourself in this trio of friendship. Wherever you went, they were right behind you.

Satoru and Suguru were like yin and yang, both physically and metaphorically. The white haired male carried an air of confidence wherever he went. He was the type to never take things too seriously unless truly necessary and he never failed to find ways to make you smile with corny jokes or embarrassing stories. Like that time he nearly burnt the dorm down trying to boil an egg (the reason why he’s banned from the kitchen and why Suguru is in charge of cooking meals).

Meanwhile, the raven haired male was the most level headed between you three. Every move and action he made was always thought through carefully. Although he didn’t necessarily encourage Satoru’s endless shenanigans (and by default yours as well as his), Suguru never hesitated to come to the rescue for you both. Life as a sorcerer didn’t seem so bad anymore if it meant having these two by your side.

Until you didn’t.

“Toru, let’s get dinner with Suguru!”

“Sorry sweets, I have a mission right after this but I’m all yours next time!”

“Hey man, are you still down for hanging at (y/n)’s dorm later?”

“Can’t. They’re sending me off to deal with this one curse they couldn’t handle. Luckily they have the strongest to handle it!”

The stronger Satoru became over the years, the more he went solo on missions, and the less time you found yourself seeing him. Instead of taking on missions as a trio, you found yourself more often going with just Suguru. Having him by your side made it a little easier, but you had to admit that you were missing Satoru’s presence. You could tell it was affecting Suguru too based on how quiet and reserved he was becoming.

“Toru?” you called, phone pressed to your ear. “Where are you? You were supposed to get back from your mission half an hour ago. The food is getting cold.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to make it. This curse is taking longer to exorcise than expected. I’ll join you guys next time,” Satoru sighed over the call. He was on guard and in the middle of tracking down this special grade curse when you had called. But he never hesitated to drop everything for you even if he was in the middle of a dangerous mission.

“You said that last time…”

Satoru swore he felt his heart break listening to the disappointment in your voice. Guilt settled into his chest as he ran a tired hand through his snowy locks with a frown. If it were up to him, he’d abandon his mission in a heartbeat to be by your side but he knew he couldn’t. It killed him to know he was making you sad because you didn’t deserve that.

“I know. I’m sorry, sweets. I promise I’ll make it up to you and treat you to the best dinner you’ll ever have later. Say hi to Suguru for me, okay?” he responded softly, doing his best to soften the hurt you were feeling.

With a hum, you tried your best to sound happy over the phone. “I will. Just… come back safe, okay?”

“Always,” Satoru promised. With much restraint, he forced himself to hang up the phone.

With that, your arm fell limply at your side with your phone clenched tightly in your hand. Suguru watched the forced smile fall from your face, the disappointment evident as clear as day as you fell into a daze. Without you even saying anything, he knew his best friend had once again canceled plans. He knew that Satoru didn’t have a choice in the matter but it was still heartbreaking to see the effects that it had on you.

Suguru wasn’t blind. He suspected that your feelings for Satoru extended far beyond friendship, which made his own feelings for you that much worse knowing you were possibly in love with his best friend and not him.

You barely processed the way Suguru softly called out to you, only jumping in surprise when he placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Sorry, Sugu. I didn’t even see you walk over to me. Toru says hi,” you offered a small apologetic smile to the tall man who only smiled reassuringly to you.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry for scaring you. I take it that lunch will just be us?” he hummed, feeling his heart clench at your weak nod.

With a deep sigh, he opened his arms. “C’mere.”

Without a second to spare, you immediately wrapped your arms around him and buried your face into his sturdy chest. His cologne always had a way of grounding you, the scent of sandalwood and bergamot filling your senses. You didn’t realize how tense you were until you felt your body melt into his embrace. Suguru wrapped an arm around your middle and placed a gentle hand behind your head holding you close.

“You know he would be here if he could,” he consoled.

“I know. I just miss him a lot. It’s been so long since we last saw him since he’s constantly away on missions,” you mumbled against his chest.

“At least I’m here, right? Unless you hate my company,” he lightly joked in an attempt to make you feel better.

It seemed to have worked because you leaned back in his embrace with a chuckle and looked up with those kind eyes of yours. God, he loved your eyes. “I could never hate you, Sugu.”

Feeling his heart race with your words, Suguru gently patted the top of your head with a chuckle, “Good girl.”

You felt extremely lucky to have Suguru by your side. It seemed like he always knew the right words to say. You took a moment to take in his face and your expression immediately fell.

Amongst your sadness, you failed to realize how exhausted he looked. Hues of purple and blue lingered below his eyes like he didn’t sleep in days. He had some new scratches on his face, probably from the many missions he had taken on this week alone. His eyes, although warm at you, looked distant as if he wasn’t completely here. He had also lost a considerable amount of weight.

How selfish of you to see that you weren’t the only one struggling. You knew Riko’s and Haibara’s death greatly affected Suguru and you tried your best to support him. Perhaps you weren't trying hard enough.

“When was the last time you slept?” you frowned, brushing your fingers to gently grace over his eyebags.

Suguru felt his heart quicken at your touch, feeling his neck begin to warm. Coughing to clear his throat, he reached up to remove your hand from his face and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I slept last night.”

“For how long?” you pressed.

He gave a nonchalant shrug, holding his chin in pretend thought. “A few hours maybe.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line. You knew he was lying to probably make you feel better but it only worsened your worries. Huffing, you grabbed his hand and dragged him over to your bed before forcing him to lay down. You went to pack up the unforgotten lunch, neither of you having much of an appetite anymore.

“Sleep,” you ordered, peering over your shoulder at him with hands on your hips like a mother scolding her child. “Take a nap. I’ll wake you up later before we head out.”

“Only if you nap with me.”

Turning to look at the dark haired sorcerer in shock, he only smirked back in response as he laid on his back with one hand behind his head and the other extended to you in invitation.

You bit your lip. Was it appropriate to lie in bed with him, your best friend? You, Satoru and Suguru have had sleepovers before but they always insisted on you having the bed while they slept on the floor (although that didn’t stop Satoru from trying to share the bed with you anyway which usually ended with Suguru dragging his ass down).

Looking at Suguru, you knew he would never do anything to make you uncomfortable. Feeling the dull ache in your bones and your tired muscles weighing you down, your body moved on its own before gingerly laying next to him, your arms pressed firmly against your chest as you laid a few inches away from him to give him space.

Letting out an exaggerated yawn, Suguru suddenly pulled you tightly against him as you let out a small yelp in surprise. He placed a kiss on the top of your head, setting his chin on top before closing his eyes in content.

You felt your heart race at his actions, a gesture you were used to from him but suddenly felt much more intimate in this position. Taking a deep breath, you tried your best to focus on the steady rhythm of his heartbeat to calm the erratic pace of yours.

As a calm comfortable silence eventually ensued between you both, you found your thoughts drifting off to Satoru again. He had been gone for at least five days on this current mission. Was he eating well? Was he getting enough sleep? What if he was hurt? What if something happened and he needed help?

But you knew Satoru was too prideful to ask for help, insisting that he was the strongest and didn’t need anyone. It was true. He wasn’t called the strongest jujutsu sorcerer in the modern age for nothing. However, you refused to let him take on the world alone because… your world was better with him in it.

“Suguru…” you called out quietly in case he was already asleep.

“What is it, pretty?” he hummed in response. He hadn’t fallen asleep yet.

“Do you ever get tired of being a sorcerer?”

Slowly opening his eyes, Suguru shifted so that he was laying directly next to you. Now at eye level with you, he saw just how drained you were. The sparkle that usually glimmered brightly in your eyes had now reduced to a dull flicker. He hadn’t expect you to ask that question so out of the blue. Mentally, for some time he struggled with where his beliefs stood. What did it mean to be a sorcerer and most importantly, why?

“Because I do.”

It took a few seconds for him to register the words that left your mouth. He watched as you tried to blink away tears, your small hands clenching the front of his shirt within your fists as you looked away shamefully.

“I miss how we used to be back when I first came to Jujutsu High, before we got so busy. I miss when you, Satoru and I would sneak out the dorms to get that kikufuku that he likes. I miss going to that cute cat cafe in Tokyo, the one where the kittens love swatting at your hair. I miss going to the night markets and eating until we nearly pass out into food comas.”

“I know that it’s my moral duty to protect non-sorcerers. That’s why jujutsu sorcerers like us exist. But Sugu, it’s so hard. Everyday I feel like I’m losing myself because it's a constant cycle of wake up, train, exorcise, sleep and repeat. I know I don’t have to worry about Satoru because he can hold his own so I try my best to be strong. For him, for you, and for me. I have to be strong but how strong do I have to be before I can finally breathe?”

By the end of your vent, you didn’t realize you were crying. Watching you in so much distress made Suguru’s chest twist. He desperately wished he could take away all of your pain and worries. Pulling your head back into his chest, he let you fall apart in his arms, whispering sweet nothings and comforting words into your ear as your body shook with the intensity of your sobs. After some time, your crying dwindled down to soft little sniffles.

“Run away with me.”

Silence. Suguru felt you stiffen at his words and watched as your eyes morphed into confusion. Your grip on his shirt loosened as you tried to process if you had heard him right. Staring into his brown eyes with not an ounce of a smile on his lips, you realized he was dead serious.

“Suguru, you’re joking, right?” you stuttered in disbelief.

“Does it look like I’m joking?” he replied, brushing the hair away from your eyes that was still damp from your previous tears.

“Hear me out. What if we could create a world where there were no more cursed spirits? No more having to put your life on the line for weak humans who spend every minute of their lives in ignorant bliss while you shed blood, sweat and tears daily for the sake of their so-called humanity.”

Your eyebrows furrowed at the somber tone the conversation took on. You frowned, “How exactly do we plan to do that? Is a world like that even possible?”

“I believe it is. My only wish is that you just trust me. Come with me,” he pleaded.

Suguru placed his large hand over your two small ones that still rested on his chest and gave them a small squeeze. He watched the various emotions run through your face as your eyes tormented over his request. He wasn’t completely sure if you’d give in to him but he’ll be damned if he didn’t at least try.

You didn’t know how to feel. Suguru was basically throwing you a lifeline to start over fresh and build a new life, a happier and free one. But you also knew it’d be dangerous. The moment you both disappear, you knew they’d send people out to find you both at all costs. You would have to leave everything and everyone you know behind. Everyone… including Satoru.

As if reading your thoughts, Suguru felt a pang of jealousy hit him. Even now, your thoughts were preoccupied on someone else instead of the man before you who would give his life for you. He knew you were thinking of his best friend, Gojo Satoru, the only other person in this world that understood him best other than you. But this was the one thing that he knew Satoru wouldn’t understand.

“I know you’re worried about him. Think of it this way. If we go, you’ll be able to protect him and ease his burden as the strongest sorcerer. He’ll be able to live the free life he deserves,” he coaxed you. “Isn’t that what you want?”

You thought over his words carefully before responding with hesitance.

“Of course that’s what I want. But Suguru, you’re asking for a whole lot and betting our lives on ‘what if’s. How long have you been thinking about this?” you questioned, your voice laden in deep concern.

“A while now,” he sighed, unable to meet your gaze for a minute before softening his eyes back at you.

“You don’t have to give me an answer now. I’ll respect any decision you make no matter what. For now, sleep on it and we can talk more about it after this mission to whatever village they’re sending us to tonight.”

Thoughts still heavily weighing on your mind, you relented. “...Okay.”

…

Nothing could have prepared Satoru for the words that left Yaga’s mouth the next day.

“112 killed by a cursed spirit revealed to be the work of Geto Suguru’s curse manipulation. Geto Suguru is hereby sentenced to death. (l/n) (y/n) has been deemed an accomplice in the crime and hereby also sentenced to death.”

divider credit: @/saradika-graphics

[spiderbeam]

congrats on 1k eve!!!! 🫶

🎧 + lando + 27 :)

🎧 — mercho by lil cake, migrantes & nico valdi

bonus: frat au!lando

You can still hear the music coming from downstairs as you stand inside the bathroom. It’s more muted now, but not easily ignored.

Your top is on the sink. Pretty, expensive, and now with a personalized stain of cheap wine bleeding into the white fabric. There’s frustration boiling inside your gut as you stare at it. It’s ruined. It’s unsalvageable. It’s—

A gentle knock on the door.

“You okay in there?” Lando asks from outside his bathroom, voice slightly muffled.

You inhale sharply, nodding even though he can’t see you. You start pulling his orange shirt over your head as you open the door, shrugging it on.

When your face finally pokes through, you find Lando leaning against the doorframe, eyes expectant. He smiles, dimples showing. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you say, averting your eyes to look down around his shirt. “So. I look like a traffic cone.”

Lando clicks his tongue as his eyes drop to his own shirt wrapped around your frame. “I think the words you’re searching for are thank you.” His gaze lingers, before returning back to your face. “I can take it back if you don’t want it.”

You scoff. “Yeah, right. I’m not going back to a frat party without a shirt on.”

Lando shrugs, pushing himself off the doorframe. “Suit yourself.” But then, even inside his dimly-lit room of his frat, you can see his eyes staying a moment too long on his papaya-colored shirt.

You tilt your head. “What?”

“Nothing,” he answers, a bit too quickly. Lando smiles at you, and for just a moment, you think you can see pink dusting his cheeks. “Nothing, it’s just… never mind. It looks good on you, I guess. Oversized stuff, I mean. Not that I didn’t like your other shirt—”

“I thought you frat boys were supposed to be smooth.”

“I am,” Lando replies defensively. “Or I can be. When I want to.” You make a noncommittal ‘ah’ before Lando tilts his head towards the door of his bedroom. “Whatever. Ready to join the party again?”

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

Lando offers his hand, and you’re not quite sure why you choose to take it. You’re not that close—friends, sure, but less of the type that tell each other secrets, and more of the kind that can share a laugh at a party. And so, when you got your entire front drenched in wine, you expected Oscar to come to your aid, maybe Logan—but Lando?

He guides you out of his room and down the stairs with his hand still holding yours. The music beats against your eardrums. You can hear shouting from downstairs, alongside singing and cheering. Funny, how for a moment there your whole night seemed to be ruined—and yet the party didn’t even stumble.

By the time you reach the end of the stairs with Lando, the song that’s blearing over the speakers is making it hard to hear anything other than its lyrics. And yet, even past the music that threatens to make your head spin, you still manage to spot him across the room. The reason you got cheap wine spilled on you. The reason Lando had to come to your rescue in the first place.

Your ex-boyfriend.

He’s pretending not to notice, but you can see him angling his face towards you. His eyes drop to your—Lando’s—shirt, to your hand in his. And only then do you realize he seems to be talking to another girl, his hands on her waist.

Asshole.

Lando notices. “You okay? We can—”

You turn to him abruptly. “Do you wanna dance?”

Lando blinks at you, brow twitching. “What?”

“Do you wanna dance?” you repeat, still feeling your ex’s stare on you. You tilt your head towards the mass of people on the opposite side of the room, still holding his hand.

The corner of his lips curve upward, and he laughs lightly, but follows you into the dance floor anyway. The music seems to vibrate against the walls. Bodies bump against yours, swaying to the song. Your hands settle around Lando’s neck, his resting on your waist.

Lando leans closer to your ear. “I know what you’re doing, you know.” He’s looking somewhere behind you—you wonder if he’s meeting your ex boyfriend’s stare. You hope he looks pissed. You hope it ruins his night.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you answer simply.

Lando chuckles, shaking his head. “It’s okay.” His eyes drop from your face, to his shirt, to your lips. “I don’t mind being used by you.”

the funny thing about this song is that mercho (song title) is just slang for mercedes lmao

eve’s 1k event 🎧

[slytherinshua]

FATAL FLAW

genre. rivals to lovers. fluff. warnings. competitive/perfectionist reader. both reader and taesan dance competitively. a little jealousy. not proofread. pairing. taesan x fem!reader. wc. 1.1k. request. requested by anon for #6: "I realized why I couldn't stand you; I can't stop loving you and it's driving me crazy." a/n. this was only supposed to be like 500 words what happened... idk like the dance rival plot just appeared in my head so i was like okay lets go w that USUALLY WRITING FOR TAESAN IS RLY HARD SO IM GLAD THIS FIC WAS KINDA THE OPPOSITE SDJKS net. @onedoornet

Dongmin was your biggest rival in everything. Whether it was in school or at dance competitions, you would always be fighting for who would place first. You had a lot of respect for Dongmin, although your blood boiled whenever you placed second to him. Before he showed up, first place already had your name written on it before you even showed up to competitions. Your title as the ace was in limbo the second the raven haired boy showed his face.

You did well in school to make your parents happy, and were lucky enough to be able to place first without trying too hard. As long as you studied the material, your brain would do the rest. Dance was a different field, though. It was one of the only things that hadn’t come naturally to you as a child. Your parents were proud of you for sticking with something hard, hoping that you’d learn to persevere even when things were tough. When you eventually got to the top of your class in all dance areas as well, your parents were at a standstill. The appearance of Dongmin was celebrated by them, but not by you.

Worst of all, your parents were friends with his, and whether it was studying together or driving to dance class, they made sure your schedules were always intertwined. You saw the boy more than you saw your own friends. It was insufferable. You hated the way he smirked at you whenever he placed first, taunting you with those perfectly shaped eyebrows raising just slightly. You hated how he licked his lips, testing your self composure by making them look so inviting. And you hated his nickname for you; princess.

The week had been unpleasant all around. Dongmin had gone to extra dance classes in the morning, leaving you to get to school on your own. At first you had been excited at the idea— finally getting a break from the boy after months. Now you realized that having him next to you was better than seeing him at a distance. Your eyes couldn’t seem to leave him as you picked at your school lunch, eyeing him down like a hawk from across the cafeteria.

Why in the world was he talking to Minju and smiling? Your chopsticks almost snapped with how harsh you were holding them.

The situation only got worse that evening, as Dongmin had booked a slot at the studio to practice his solo, whereas you were left at home to study for a test which you already knew you would ace. You barely wrote anything in your notes, ending up spacing out instead, your phone open to Dongmin’s chat. You hated how you couldn’t get your mind off of him.

Your brain suddenly clicked, a sudden realization crashing down on you that you had never even considered before. And with your mind racing and impulsivity coursing through your veins, you grabbed your phone and rushed out of the house in the direction of the dance studio.

It was late in the night and only a couple rooms were in use, one of which was studio 8: where you could hear the music blasting for Dongmin’s solo. You didn’t bother knocking before entering the room, immediately catching the attention of a very surprised Dongmin.

“Hey, what are you doing here—“ 

“I need to tell you something.” You said simply. Dongmin gave you a questioning glance, but switched off the music regardless, grabbing a drink of water and a cloth to wipe his sweat. 

“You couldn’t have just told me over text or something?” He asked.

“No, I need to tell you in person.” 

Dongmin crossed his arms, taking a couple steps towards you, “Alright. Go ahead and say it, princess.” 

You took a breath, “I realized why I couldn’t stand you for all those months.” That caught Dongmin’s attention more than you storming into the practice room. He waited for you to continue speaking, eyes glued to your face.

“I can’t stop loving you and it’s driving me crazy.” You completed, daring to look up at his face, watching for his reaction.

You expected disgust or maybe his signature smirk to adorn his face like countless times before. He would probably enjoy having another way to beat you. But instead, shock and slight confusement showed on his face, a twinge of hope behind those ebony eyes. He took a tentative step forward, more hesitant than his previous ones, closing the rest of the distance between you and him. 

“You love me?” He questioned, trying to get his brain to process what you had just said. It was so unbelievable— especially coming from you. Dongmin had tried to get your attention for months. When his efforts only led to you getting mad, he had thought about giving up. But the rivalry kept your attention on him, and he quickly learned to accept that he might not have a chance with you, but he would still give it a valiant effort. 

You were the only girl he had ever crushed on, and he hadn’t anticipated that it would throw him headfirst into a lovesick disease that he couldn’t cure. You were both the poison and the antidote. Every day you plagued his mind, all efforts he tried to erase your pretty face out of his head failing. It was the fact that you were so close yet just out of reach that Dongmin couldn’t handle. He wanted you, needed you, for so many months. And now, finally, you were confessing to him.

“I-it’s stupid. I’ve hated you every single day since you first showed up. But, I can’t get you out of my head. Just get out of my head, please.” You whispered the last part in desperation, suffering from the very same lovesickness that Dongmin had endured for months. 

His eyes softened looking at you, but he shook his head, “I’ve tried for months to get you to think about me. I’m not gonna leave now.” He took hold of your wrist, pulling you forward so your face was mere centimetres away from his. His eyes asked for permission from you, eyeing your lips and eyes until you gave him a slight nod. He didn’t waste a second diving in, finally fulfilling what he had longed for since the first time he met you.

And it didn’t disappoint. The softness of your lips was just as he had imagined, and they fit perfectly with his, as if you were made for him. You— perfect face, perfect dance, perfect grades, perfect everything— had finally found your fatal flaw: falling for your rival. But maybe it wasn’t such a disastrous miscalculation on your part. Maybe you and Dongmin were destined to be from the start.

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