#but like…the small jealousy y’know

[siphoklansan]

Maybe im crazy but the jealous trope makes every character a little bit better in my eyes🙁💗

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: your boyfriend comes to pick you after a long day at uni. sensing your jealousy about the attention he’s getting from your classmates, he makes it up to you in his own way.

tags. olderbf!gojo x female reader. fluff, tiny bit of angst, suggestive [make out sesh]. age gap — reader above 20, gojo early 30’s. jealousy. reader gets called ‘princess, baby, beautiful.’ not proof read !

satoru’s arrival, as per usual, serves as pure entertainment for many students. it’s not often that they get to see such a tall and handsome man around campus after all.

you patiently stand there, waiting for that said man to come and get you. the increase in giggles and whispers around you can only mean one thing: he’s nearby.

your boyfriend’s car comes to a stop in the distance. satoru steps out of the driver’s seat a second later, one of his hands running through his fluffy, snowy hair.

‘. . damn, he’s fucking hot,’ ‘yep. heard he’s in a relationship though. sucks,’ ‘girl— do i look like i care? need him so baaaaddd.’

it’s infuriating to hear those words while you - his girlfriend - are standing close to them. you decide not to give those girls any attention nor do you try to speak up. it’s not worth the effort.

satoru closes the car door behind him, his hands in the pockets of his slacks while he strolls up to where you’re standing. it’s as if he’s walking down a runway - graceful, confident, every step executed with perfect balance.

he can hear the murmurs from the students around, but he simply does not care. his steady gaze has been fixed on you the moment he spotted your figure from across campus.

“cute,” satoru mutters under his breath with a small smile, blue eyes taking in the sight of you standing there against a wall. the way you’re fiddling with the strap of your bag while pretending not to have noticed him is quite endearing.

you look down at the ground until a pair of black oxfords come into view, stopping right in front of yours. you slowly tilt your head back until you’re face to face with the man himself.

“hey, beautiful,” satoru greets, his voice smooth and slightly deep, a faint smirk playing on his lips. his knuckles brush against your cheek whilst he admires your every feature, acting as if he hasn’t seen you in days.

you nod in response, whispering a small ‘hi’ before your eyes dart around campus again. your bottom lip pushes forward just a tiny bit to form a small pout.

. . and there it is; satoru knows that look in your eyes like the back of his hand. he’s seen that same pout before, along with the hint of jealousy lurking behind your gaze that you try so hard to hide.

he understands why you’re feeling that way.

the other girls on campus, the way they ogle him and whisper, it would make any woman insecure. but to him, there was no need for that. satoru is yours, and he’s made that known to every single soul around you a million times before.

perhaps they need to be reminded once more.

satoru wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close, his touch gentle and possessive. he can see how you’re trying to act normal, though he knows you way better than that.

the pad of his thumb rubs small circles into your hip as your lover leans in and speaks in a low yet intimate voice that only you get to hear, “oh? look at you, acting all tough with your little pout.”

“tell me. what’s up, princess?” satoru whispers, his breath warm against your ticklish skin. he lowers his head to your face and plants a small kiss on your nose, gaining a mix of delighted yet irritated whispers of the people around you.

“usually you jump right into my arms after seeing me— y’know, like a lil’ bunny,” the white-haired man starts sulking as well, pressing your body flush against his. “where’s my cute ‘n clingy babyyyy?”

satoru’s over-exaggerated whine makes your nose scrunch up, though you can’t deny the truth. he knows you better than you know yourself. he can see right through your attempt to disguise your jealousy, yet you’re still too stubborn to admit anything.

“whatever. come on,” you roll your eyes before grabbing his arm and tugging him forward. you want nothing more than to escape your surroundings. you’re getting tired of the continuous and unwanted attention satoru is getting.

it’s irksome. you know satoru doesn’t give them the attention they so desire - he never will - yet you still feel this pang in your chest whenever you see those girls shamelessly ogling your boyfriend.

satoru, being naturally observant, notices your sudden eagerness to leave campus. he can tell that your jealousy is growing worse because of the other students that keep on eyeing him. while he is used to the attention, he hates seeing it affect you.

the whispers and giggles from the other women are like white noise, insignificant background fodder that barely warranted his notice. you’re all he sees and listens to— no matter what.

your presence, your voice, your body, your soul. . . you’re the only one he cares about. he just wishes you’d realise that.

satoru wordlessly allows himself to be dragged off. his gaze is fixated on the back of your head, a mixture of amusement and worry glinting in those blue eyes of his. he can’t help but feel guilty. even if he didn’t really do anything wrong.

he wants to make it up to you, somehow.

once you reach the car, satoru gently shoos your hand away from the door handle the moment he catches you try to get in yourself. he reaches around you and pulls it open with a soft ‘click’.

satoru then surprises you by kissing your forehead— his free hand coming up to cup the back of your head. his fingers bury themselves in your hair. a subtle smirk tugs at his glossy lips as he senses the envious glares from the other, irrelevant onlookers.

that’s exactly what he’s trying to accomplish. to make it known to the world that he’s your man. he’ll gladly do it over and over again, until all of them finally take the hint.

“ladies first,” satoru gestures, his voice gentle and loving. he pulls back and smiles at you with his dimples showing. you’re slightly taken aback by the smooth gesture before thanking him in a small murmur.

“thank you.”

it’s silent for a good couple seconds after satoru gets into the driver’s seat. he settles his keys into the ignition switch, though doesn’t turn them. instead, he faces you with a small sigh.

your lover already recognises what’s up. you probably won’t talk to him until the jealousy subsides. but that isn’t how he wants to fix this situation— he wants you to communicate with him.

“hey,” satoru tries to get you to look at him. your body is slightly turned away, your eyes looking out of the car window. it’s painfully obvious that you’re upset with him, even when it isn’t specifically his fault.

“don’t hide from me, c’mon,” he chuckles and tries to make you feel better by bringing your hand up to his lips. satoru leaves small kisses on your palm, eyes peering over the rims of his sunglasses to gauge your reaction.

you still don’t turn to face him. you’re too caught up in your own feelings— too stubborn to talk about the jealousy and insecurities that are bugging you. you know it’s unfair to your partner, but you currently can’t fix your own emotions.

sensing your insistent reluctance to face him, satoru places his hand gently under your chin. his fingers curl around your jaw and gently guide your gaze to meet his. the sight of your downcast expression - plagued with insecurity - tugs on his heartstrings.

“oh, my sweet little baby,” the white-haired man sighs once more.

without another word, the gap between you quickly closes as satoru leans in, his lips meeting yours in a firm but soft kiss. a soft gasp escapes your lips at the suddenness of his kiss, but the tension in your shoulders slowly starts to dissappear as you melt into his embrace.

the touch of his calloused fingers on your jaw is a wordless command you cannot resist. the kiss is a silent form of reassurance, a way for him to remind you of his feelings for you.

his want and need for you.

satoru can nearly taste the jealousy etched into your initial resistance, which he seeks to silence with his touch. thus, he deepens the kiss with renewed vigor. his free hand cups the back of your head and gently tilts it upwards to gain a better angle.

“mh. sweet,” satoru’s tongue swipes over your bottom lip. he eagerly swallows the faint taste of candy that you had eaten earlier. his tongue delves into your mouth the moment your lips make way, memorising every part of it.

he doesn’t let go of you until you’re both breathless. the sorcerer pulls back, though keeps the distance between your lips at a minimum. his cheeks are painted a soft pink, eyes half lidded and lips even glossier with your saliva now coating them.

“haah— fuck,” satoru catches his breath while his free hand rubs up and down your waist. he resists the urge to pull you into his lap and ravage you right then and there. he’ll leave that for when you’re home.

his gaze is on your parted lips once more. he simply cannot hold himself back from leaning in. his body moves closer to yours, caging you in between him and the passenger seat.

“i’m all yours,” satoru murmurs against your soft lips. he cups your face as he places a quick peck on your mouth. “only yours,” another chaste kiss causes your smile to find its way back onto your face. “don’t you forget,” and a third kiss finally makes you giggle.

your lover hums in satisfaction. he nuzzles his nose against yours, grinning widely as he successfully managed to coax the jealousy away— to gain his beautiful, happy girlfriend back. “there she is,” satoru coos and squeezes your cheeks together.

you huff at the feeling of your lips forced into a deformed ‘o’ shape, yet the bright smile tugging at your lips doesn’t disappear. “sorry for acting so childish,” you apologise for your own behavior. if it wasn’t for satoru taking the initiative to make it up to you, you would have given him the silent treatment.

the white-haired man shakes his head. he ruffles your hair affectionately while his lips settle on your cheek. he tenderly nibbles on the plush flesh, “no need to apologise. ‘t was cute,” he replies in a muffled voice.

satoru pulls back and his thumb brushes over the subtle mark that his teeth left on your skin. “besides,” he pinches your cheek before cocking his head to the right. your eyes follow the direction he’s looking at— which is your car window.

“i think everyone finally realised that y’re the one ‘n only girl for me.”

your heart drops as you only then remember that satoru’s car windows aren’t tinted. that means that everyone on campus probably has seen the little make out session you had with your boyfriend just now.

your eyes quickly dart around the crowded area. the way your fellow students are glancing at you - some with envy and others with embarrassment - tells you more than enough. . .

you clear your throat and try to hide your face with the sleeves of your top. you don’t know how you’re going back to university after today without facing the humiliating consequences of your (satoru’s) actions.

your shameless boyfriend sits there and grins from ear to ear, proud of his accomplishment and oblivious to your embarrassed state until you speak up again;

“. . satoru, please drive away as fast as you can.”

[vampiric-tempt]

≡;- ꒰ °When they get jealous ꒱

➤ tw: slight suggestive themes

a/n: I've been really rusty with writing recently. Like really rusty, but I hope this is okay !! >:3

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Roronoa Zoro

Zoro’s brow twitched in annoyance as he heard your laughs across the deck. And not to him, but to the damn cook who swooned over your presence. 

Sanji continued to pepper your arms with kisses, giving you drinks and snacks whenever you wanted it. It was like he was crazier over you than anybody else on the ship. His partner. 

Zoro was too caught up in his thoughts, as he absent mindedly lifted his weights. 

“Zo?” You called. “Hey! Zo!” Your hands waved across his face causing him to jolt a little. 

“Y/n, hey.” Was all he said as he continued to lift his weights. 

You frowned. “Are you okay? You seem…off.”

“I’m fine.” He grunted, dropping his weights. He brushed past you and positioned himself for pushups.

You immediately knelt beside him with your lips pursed. You had a vague idea why he was acting this way and it was always for the same reason. “Y’know Sanji is just being nice.”

“Yeah.” Zoro deadpans. “Is kissing your arms nice?”

“N-no not necessarily…”

Zoro directed his eyes to the ground and started his routine. “We’re done here.” 

Not wanting to end the conversation, you persisted. “It’s just his nature Zo, y’know that. There’s no need to be jealous-”

“Jealous? Is that what you think this is?” He huffed. 

You bit the inside of your lips. “This is exactly what this is. I’m not blind.” 

Zoro halted his movements and moved to position himself in front of you. “Do you ever think to ask why I feel that way?”

“Can I ask now?” You leaned to meet his gaze. 

Zoro grumbled to himself. His hand rubbed against his neck. He didn’t know what he felt at that moment. Jealousy over Sanji, or the fluttery feeling in his stomach as you gave him that stupid look with your stupid cute eyes. “S’just I can’t provide the romance Sanji does. Sometimes I think you want that…and I can’t give it.”

A small smile reached your lips at Zoro’s vulnerability. “No, I think you’re perfect.”

The tips of Zoro’s ears reddened. “Yeah right.”

“No I’m being serious,” You scooted closer to him, hands tilting his head. “You’re my handsome boy.”

Zoro’s face flushed as he looked away, your gaze too strong. “Alright that’s enough!” He gently shoves you causing you to laugh. 

“What, I thought you liked that nickname?”

Zoro huffed. “I never said that.”

You hummed. “Are youuuu feeling any better?”

Zoro scratched the back of his head in thought and turned to you, a smirk across his face. “I will once you meet me in the bird’s nest tonight.”

Shaking your head you threw out a pinky “That’s a promise then, you dog.” 

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Crocodile

Miss All Sunday was a beautiful woman. Crocodile knew that, but he didn’t like the way she had you all over her. You were soooo curious about the books she has read, why didn’t you ask him about books. He read too. 

About five more minutes, Crocodile had enough. He made his way over and hooked you toward him. “Miss All Sunday, I think you’ve had something of mine a little too long. I require my partner’s presence now.” 

Robin smiled, she knew her actions had irked the man. “My apologies, I wasn’t aware you could get so jealous of us bonding over books?” 

Crocodile tsked and left without a second to spare, dragging you along with his hook. 

“You were jealous?” You asked, a hint of amusement to your voice. 

“Hardly, I merely wanted you is all.”

“Yeahh.” You dropped the subject and allowed your lover to drag you through the long corridor till you both stopped at a pair of dark oak doors. 

His hook ushered you in and you gasped at the sight. It was a large old looking library. “Since when was this here?” You awed. 

“Since forever. I just never bothered with it. But you, my love, seem to have an interest in books.”

You smirked. “So you were jealous. It’s okay, I don’t mind.”

Crocodile rolled his eyes. “My love, if it’s books you want, I have way more than what that woman can give.” 

“And I appreciate the show of love.” Your hands dragged across the dusty books. “This actually means a lot, thank you.” 

You felt Crocodile’s hook hug your body as he dragged you toward him once again, his other hand making itself comfortable on your waist. “I can provide you way more than just books.” His tone lowered causing you to suck in your breath. 

“I know that.”

“Then why don’t I show you how much more I can provide you…perhaps in the master bedroom, my love?”

You placed a hand on his chest, the scent of his cigar blinding your senses. “I would love that actually.” 

“Then allow me.” He lifted you into his arms, making his way down the hall. You laughed excitedly and as you passed another hallway, your eyes met with Robin’s and all she gave was a wink before she left you two to your fun. 

You had to thank her later. 

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Trafalgar Law

He felt absolutely nothing whenever it was his crew hanging around you, but when his crew met up with the Strawhats and Kid pirates. He didn’t know what to feel when you got involved in a conversation between Zoro and the massacre soldier. Two relatively attractive men. 

Did he feel a little insecure, yes. But he wouldn’t admit that. Never in his life would he. 

It wasn’t till you two were alone in the tang, getting ready for bed did Law decide to speak up. 

“So, you seem very fond of the other crews.” 

“Oh,” You perked up at your boyfriend’s voice. “Yeah, they seem really cool.”

Law nodded at your statement. “I could see how some could be cool. Is there any that peak your interest?”

You pondered for a bit. “Um yeah, why the sudden questions Law?” 

Law shrugged. “Just curious s’all.” 

Shrugging you purse your lips in thought. “Well, I find the swordsman and massacre soldier really cool. Especially since they fought recently.”

“Yeah I saw you three talking.” Law says. 

“Yep, I was asking them about fighting tips, y’know useful things for further battles.” 

Law hummed. “I see.”

You tilted your head, eyes analyzing your lover. “Were you by any chance…jealous?” 

“Never.” Law was quick as he sat himself on his side of the bed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

You laughed. 

“Why are you laughing, there’s nothing funny.” Law said defensively.

“Oh I knowww it’s just, you can be so cute sometimes.”

Law gave a look of embarrassment, eyes flickering between you and the wall. “C-cute??” I’m not cute.”

“Okay okay,” You scooted beside him. “You’re handsome.” 

Law smiled, leaning into your touch. “As you are, Y/n-ya.” He moved in for a kiss, a kiss you happily accepted. Your hands entangled in his as he moved over your body, arms on either side of your head. 

Law pulled away from the kiss with a smirk. “You do a lot of things to me Y/n-ya.”

“Like what?”

“Make me realize I’m the luckiest man alive. I never thought I’d be able to find love till I found you.”

You pulled Law in for a chaste kiss. “If making you jealous makes you this romantic, I would’ve done it sooner.”

“Don’t dream of it.” Law pinches your cheek and settles beside you. “If I were actually jealous I’d do a lot more than just be romantic, you know that.” 

“Ohhh I know.”

[champagnefountains]

LUCIFER MAGNE - H.H.

CHAPTER II - Prompt: Lucifer continuing to wear his wedding ring despite being in a relationship with you.

Previous chapter: [x] Word Count: 3.4k+ words (unedited). Genre/other tags: Angst with some fluff. Jealousy. Fem pronouns used. Warnings: Swearing. Self-deprecation. Manipulation (on Alastor's part).

It had been nearly over a week since you and Lucifer last talked – it had also been a week since Lucifer was last seen around in the hotel. Angel, being the gossiper he was, relayed everything that had transpired between you two to the others the following day. Seeing the sensitive and sad shell of a person you were left in, everyone remained cautious and had started walking on eggshells around you. Of course, you were quick to pick up on that, as embarrassing as it all was (minus Alastor, who continued on with his usual theatrics and mischief). 

Charlie in particular was the most concerned out of them all, since this was her dad we were talking about. She knew with certainty that he was confining himself in the castle to distract himself from what happened – likely something involving his rubber-ducky obsession – instead of facing the problem head on. It was his pride that sometimes got in the way of his better judgement.

Not only that, but Charlie clearly saw the massive toll it took on you. If you weren’t distracting yourself with work or doing something related to the hotel, you would lock yourself away in your room, only coming out to quickly grab a bite to eat from the kitchen. Charlie even made efforts to strike many conversations with you from time to time, but was either excused or was only given one-worded responses. She knew not to take your dismissive behaviour to heart, but she couldn’t help but fret over you.  

So it came as an absolute surprise when out of nowhere, Charlie received a call from her father. She messily scrambled for her phone on her desk, fumbling and nearly dropping it in the process before violently tapping on the small screen. “H-Hello?! Dad, hey!” She answers a bit too enthusiastically while nervously combing her hair with a free hand. “Uh, hey Charlie!” Lucifer stiffly greets from the other line, “I just…um, thought I’d give a call to, uh, see how everyone’s going at the hotel!” The Princess noted how much hoarser his voice was than usual, but decided not to comment on it aloud. 

“Well, y’know how it is! It’s been busy and lively as always–everyone’s been working really hard and all,” she answers vaguely, nervously chuckling. “Err, yeah! Right. That’s a–that’s a relief to hear. Yep,” he hums. There was a brief, awkward pause that ensued soon after, the both of them not knowing what to say next. The whole exchange was becoming increasingly painful that Charlie resisted the urge to pull her hair. She then clears her throat. “H-How about you, dad? What’ve you been up to? You’ve been gone for a couple or so days,” Charlie finally musters, “are…are you doing alright?” 

“Me? Oh yeah, psh! I just got, erm…a lot of things going on at the moment. It’s not so easy being the big boss of hell after all! Got a lot of important things to do! Plus, I’ve got heaps of paperwork to do for the hotel. You should know how tedious that is,” He says, adding an exaggerated groan. 

The princess furrows her brows. “Oh, that’s…strange. ’Cause I could’ve sworn you left all the papers here…y’know, the ones you told me to revise over?” Charlie replies, side-eyeing the said documents stacked neatly on her desk. A startled yelp escapes his throat. “O-Oh...did I?” He stammers.

Charlie couldn’t help but wince at the evident panic that began to set in as she listened to her father make incomprehensible noises from the other line. It was a poor attempt in reasoning, which ultimately became useless in the end. Lucifer let out a long sigh, caught red-handed. “Oh, who the hell am I kidding? You guys probably already know what happened–which by the way, Charlie, you shouldn’t be lying to me about!” He pointedly remarks. 

“I-I’m sorry, dad! It’s just…I’m really worried about you,” she reasons, before shortly adding, “...The both of you.” 

There was a small pause. “...How is she, by the way?” He then asks quietly. Charlie nervously tugs her bottom lip with her fangs. “Well, she’s keeping herself busy. Constantly, as a matter of fact. And I know she’s trying hard to convince us all that she’s holding up okay, but…she doesn’t look too good, dad. She seems really upset.”

A shaky exhale sounded from his end. “I…I really am hopeless, aren’t I?” He mumbles defeatedly. Even though she couldn’t see him, she could picture him burying his face in his hands. The image caused Charlie’s eyes to soften. “Dad, no. It’s not too late. You still have a chance to make things right,” Charlie gently encourages through the speaker, “you just need to talk to each other–”

Suddenly, from the corner of her eye, a bright, blazing portal manifests from thin air – from it, emerges Lucifer himself who appeared extremely dishevelled, effectively catching Charlie off guard. 

“But, hun, y-you don’t understand! I messed up big time!” He exclaims, tugging on his unkempt hair as he aimlessly paced around her office. “I-I mean, look at me! I’m a fucking mess and a coward! Why would she ever think to take me back after what I did!?” He chuckles humourlessly, shaking his head in disbelief, “I-It’s like no matter how many times I try to redeem and convince myself that everything’s finally going right in my life, I just continue to fuck myself over and over again. And it’s just– ugh! It’s pathetic! I’m fucking pathetic!” 

Charlie’s chest tightened considerably as she watched her father self-destruct before her. Strands of his golden hair were sticking out here and there, his dress-shirt tousled, and his eyes were glossed over and red, from both a lack of sleep and crying. He looked utterly devastated. Chucking her phone away, she immediately sped towards and enveloped Lucifer in her arms, who immediately broke down into heavy sobs. Seeing him like this brought tears to her own eyes, but she firmly told herself to be the stronger person in this situation, for his sake. 

“Hey, hey. Dad, listen to me, okay? Everyone deserves a second chance. You of all people should know–you were the one who taught me that, remember?” Charlie rubbed his back soothingly, trying to ease the jumpiness of his shoulders. “And that also applies to you. I…I know you’ve been through a lot, especially with mum…” She couldn’t help the way her frown deepened as she spoke, “...and I miss her too. I miss her a lot. But…I think it’s finally time for you to move on. It’s been years, dad. You deserve to be happy and you’re allowed to be in love again.” 

“[Name]’s an amazing person, and there’s no doubt about that. She’s proved that more than many times already. I’m certain that once things ease over and you guys finally talk things through, everything will turn out okay; she’s very understanding and kind like that. You’ll both be okay.” Charlie gently pulls Lucifer away and with the sleeve of her blazer, she wipes his damp, reddened cheeks. “I know for a fact that she loves and cares about you deeply – we can all see it as clear as day. You…you love her too, don’t you, dad?” 

For a brief moment’s contemplation, Lucifer suddenly recalled the times you spent together, from your initial meeting to now. He had always thought you were a strong and independent soul, with the way you carried yourself. You just had something about you that naturally drew in those around you, including himself. When Lucifer got to know you in a deeper level, he was enthralled by how kind and understanding you were – you were always there to listen to his many tales and endless nonsense; you would always seem genuinely interested in his rubber-duck-esque inventions, offering some input and critiquing his creations; and you would always be so, so supportive of all his plans and ideas, no matter how extraordinary they all seemed.

If he hadn't known any better, Lucifer would've thought you were an actual angel. You were the saviour that wore off the darkness in troubling times, and the one who pulled him out of the void that Lilith had left him in. That and more, as you continuously gave him a real reason to remain hopeful. You were proof personified, that he was able to open his heart once more, and to love again.

“I-I do, I really do,” Lucifer affirms in a heartbeat. Charlie smiles warmly, relieved by his answer, “then that’s all you need to say.” At that moment, Lucifer's chest swelled in overwhelming pride for his daughter, knowing that despite not being as present in her life until recently, she grew up to be the good and strong-willed person he had hoped for.

“O-Oh, jeez. Since when did you grow up so big? I should be the one comforting you,” He tearfully jokes, sniffling whilst returning her smile, “but thank you, Charlie. Really. I’m…I-I really am grateful to call you my daughter.” The two royalties then shared a heart-felt moment and a bone-crushing hug, with the King's heart being filled with a new-found determination. Because, just as he always says: The show must go on. 

Earlier on:

On the other side of the building, you were drowning yourself in your own self-despair as you overlooked the balcony by the front entrance of the hotel. Your eyes lazily scanned the new hotel patrons below, who were engaging in some trust exercises led by Vaggie, who came in to cover you just moments ago. Every once in a while, you couldn’t help but glance at your phone, silently hoping to receive some sort of notification from Lucifer, or even an inkling of his whereabouts. But you received nothing, which only fuelled your growing anxiety.

You felt awful leaving the way you did that night, especially after dumping so much onto Lucifer. You felt like you were being completely selfish, and had cornered him into making a big decision. And because of that, your relationship was on the line. You let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing angrily at your face.

Little did you know however, that you had some company lurking nearby, watching you in silent amusement. 

“Now, don’t you look as miserable as ever?” Alastor mockingly chimes in, stepping out from the shadows to make his presence known and joins you by the balcony. You roll your eyes at the deer-demon before turning your head the other direction. “Yeah, and what about it?” You scoff, leaning in to rest your arms against the rails, “Can’t you go bother someone else, Alastor? I’m certainly not in the mood right now.”  

“Why, I wouldn’t be a good hotelier if I left a dear co-worker of mine so down in the slumps!” To your dismay, Alastor reappears in front of you, obstructing your field of view, "And might I add, it's not healthy for you to be all cooped up in your room all the time – stay there any longer, and it can do silly, little things to your head!" He emphasises his point as he spins a finger in a circular motion by his temple. You shot him an irritated look, slowly growing fed up by his prodding. 

"Listen, I don't need you telling me what I should and shouldn't do. I’m more than capable of deciding that on my own,” you growl, straightening up to cross your arms firmly against your chest. “Hm...no, I don’t think so!” Alastor hums, shaking his head disapprovingly, “The unfortunate affair that took place in your courtship with the King has left you in such a vulnerable, and problematic state. And I’m sure you’ve taken note of how everyone’s been acting around you – constantly walking on their tiptoes in fear of setting you off on a hissy-fit. You’ve caused them to worry a lot about you, dear. Poor ol’ Charlie, especially.” 

You open your mouth to retort back, but nothing came out. A strong pang of guilt struck you as his words began to sink in. Seeing this, Alastor’s grin widened a faction as he stepped forward and levelled himself with you, now facing you eye-to-eye. “And as the executive producer of this fine establishment, might I critique that your behaviour is affecting our team’s morale and performance…and we mustn’t have that now, should we? Especially not since we’ve all been more preoccupied recently with our guests!” He…had a fair point, as much as you didn’t want to admit it.

“I…I’m sorry. I didn’t…know…” Your voice began to trail off, shoulders slumping in realisation of how selfish and contemptuous you’ve been acting this whole week. You recalled the fretful expressions of your friends and your dismissive attitude towards them. “I-I didn’t mean to make everyone worry…” you quietly say. Alastor’s words only made you feel immensely worse about the whole situation, leaving you sniffling on the spot. 

“Now, now. As long as you realise your mistakes, then you shall be forgiven,” he coos, softly patting the tuft of your head. At that, you couldn’t help but send a doubtful glance his way. “W-wait a minute…why do you care all of a sudden? What exactly are you playing at?” You suspiciously question as you rub at your eyes. 

“Oh, how you wound me, dear! Why must you always question any act of kindness I display? Is it really that hard to believe?” He adverts, evidently feigning hurt. You deadpan. “Yes, it is,” you reply almost instantly. Alastor chortles at your bluntness, “Haha! You’re quite a work of art, aren't you, dear? Now, let’s go out for a walk, shall we?” 

Before you could’ve processed what he had said, Alastor had already spun you around, pulling you with him as you both headed down a flight of stairs. “Wha–Alastor, where are we–where the heck are you taking me?” You asked, trying to keep up with his long strides so as to not trip down the stairs. “Hm? Did I not already specify? It looks like your brooding has impacted your hearing, dear. That’s a shame,” he slyly comments, now dragging you towards the entrance, “We’re both going for a walk around town, it’ll help clear that cloudy head of yours!” 

“Hold on-Stop! Just what makes you think I’d agree to go out with you?” You shoot back, retracting your arm from his hold and stopping metres behind him. Alastor sharply turns around and pulls out a wrinkled, yellow piece of paper out of thin air. Your eyes dart towards the sheet, seeing a familiar hand-writing across the page. 

“Why, I just knew you were going to question me – you're so predictable. But might I add, we’re not going out without purpose! No, no! Our lovely Charlie has composed a list and requested we fetch a couple items in town!” Stepping forward, you swiftly snatched the paper from his clawed hand and briefly scanned the list, noting that it largely consisted of decorations and party items. “She wanted to organise a heart-warming celebration for the wayward souls here who have accomplished some milestones on their journey to redemption! An anniversary ceremony of sorts, if you will,” Alastor explains, lightly patting the non-existing dust off of his suit.

“But couldn’t you just…I don’t know, teleport the things here?” You blatantly ask, raising a brow at him. You knew he was more than capable of doing such minuscule tasks within a span of seconds. “And waste such a beautiful day outside? Now, why would I even consider doing that?” Alastor states matter-of-factly, “And like I said, the short trip will help clear your troubled mind! Consider it a gesture of compassion from yours truly.” 

There was clearly something off about all this but you couldn’t see any reason for an ulterior motive. It was just…simply a manager looking out for the well-being of his work-colleagues, as uncharacteristic and off-putting as it sounded out loud. Already exhausted, you couldn’t bring it in yourself to question his actions any further.

“You’re really not going to take ‘no’ for an answer, are you?” You ask. Seeing the way Alastor’s grin widened had you sighing in defeat. “Shall we then?” Alastor questions, offering an arm out to you. Rolling your eyes, you loop one of your arms through and follow him out the hotel. ‘A small walk wouldn’t hurt…’ you think to yourself as the doors shut behind you. 

Currently:

Lucifer tiredly dragged himself to his designated room in the hotel, to rest for a while and take a much needed bath as per Charlie’s advice. He gave himself a lengthy pep-talk in front of the mirror as he brushed his teeth, deciding to approach you tonight to finally talk and clear things out. Yes, he was absolutely terrified about the possibility of things going south during the confrontation, but he didn’t think he could handle another second being without you. And he needed to make that loud and clear. 

After putting on an outfit and neatly slicking his hair back, Lucifer looked at his reflection once more in the bedside mirror, inspecting himself up and down to flatten any remaining creases of his clothing. But it wasn't until his gaze landed on his left hand that he tensed up. Peering down, he brought his hand into view to inspect the very wedding band that caused it all. With a shaky sigh, Lucifer slowly pulled the ring off of his finger. He took a moment to examine it, eyes filled with sentiment before kneeling down to open his bedside drawer, where its designated ring-box sat. The moment he encased the ring in its box and locked it away in his drawer, it felt like a breath of fresh air. To his own surprise, Lucifer found himself tearfully laughing – he felt...genuinely happy. Proud, even. It was at this very moment that he felt like he was finally ready to move forward.

After patting the stray tears away from his face, Lucifer slowly made his way down to the front lobby. There, Charlie and Vaggie were talking amongst themselves by the lounge area, whilst Angel and Cherri chuckled away by the bar, with Husk tending to their beverages. The King didn’t give an inkling of care as to where Alastor had gone, and he was certain that Nifty was hiding somewhere in the small crevices of the hotel, cleaning away. All in all, there was no sight of you whatsoever, visibly disappointing him. 

Seeing his approaching form, Charlie waved his father over towards them. “Hey, dad. Are you feeling a bit better now?” She asks with a comforting smile. “Yeah, totally. Thanks, dear,” he says, patting her shoulder affectionately before turning his attention towards her partner. “Hey! How’s it going, Maggie? I’ve heard you’ve been working real hard lately, huh? Good on yah!” He commends, playfully nudging the said demon. “Oh, um…it’s–it’s Vaggie, sir. And uh, thanks,” she nervously chuckles, rubbing her arm. “Mhm, yeah…that’s–that’s great,” Lucifer distractedly hums, all the while scanning around the room. Noticing this, Vaggie shared a worried look with Charlie. 

“Erm, dad, she’s not here at the moment if that’s what you’re wondering,” Charlie starts, alerting her father. “Oh? Well, is she up in one of the guest rooms?” Lucifer asked, gesturing upstairs with a thumb. To his confusion, Charlie appeared somewhat nervous, her hands fidgeting with her suit. “Uh, no, she’s actually not in the hotel at the moment,” Vaggie steps in, “she’s been out doing a couple of errands for us.” Lucifer raised a brow at the slight edginess in her tone, eyes darting back and forth between the two girls. “...Um, alright. What the heck is going on right now?" He asks, pointing an accusatory finger at them both, "You guys are acting sketchy as fuck. Are you...are you guys hiding something from me?" He narrows his eyes. Charlie sucks in a breath, brows pinching together, “Well...dad, t-the thing is–” 

“She’s out with Smiles right now!” Angel suddenly intervened, calling out from the other side of the room, and causing Charlie to cower and duck behind Vaggie. Lucifer felt his shoulders grow rigid. “She’s…what now?” He dangerously asks, glaring at the arachnid. Before Lucifer trudged towards the direction of the bar, the front doors of the hotel abruptly flew open. He felt the vein in his neck nearly burst at the sound of your laughter interlacing itself with that god-awful, irritating radio feedback. What a wild coincidence.

As Lucifer turned around, his eyes nearly flew out of his head as he saw how close you were with Alastor, arms basically locked together. The radio-demon was quick to meet eyes with the King, and out of spite, Alastor flashed him the biggest shit-eating grin he's ever seen.

“Oh, fuck no!”

Chapter III - Finale [x]

Thank you for reading!

[johnpriceslamb]

𝐌𝐀𝐘 𝐈 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐓 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐀𝐏?

❛ you ask the Van Der Linde boys if you could sit on their lap. ❜

BEFORE YOU PROCEED! ┊female ! reader . afab ! reader . reader is physically shorter than chars mentioned below . suggestive themes implied . wrds . not edited . not proof-read . Javier ver touchy . google translated Spanish . John is very drunk . 1.4k wrd-count

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐍

You want to what?

You tinker your lashes multiple times innocently at his flabbergasted expression, unconsciously tilting your head at his dramatic approach. From your tone alone meant nothing but the most purest intentions, he knew well you mean no harm. But hearing those words made his cheeks burn a tad bit brighter.

“May I please— “No, no, I heard ya the first time- I just..” He abruptly cuts you. He narrows his eyes at you, sizing you up head-to-toe just to see if you were in a playful manner. You weren’t.

He grumbles softly, contemplating. He scratches behind his neck for a bit before a deep sigh escapes his mouth and he leans back on the wooden chair he sat upon.

“C’mere.”

He beckons you to come closer with two fingers lazily waving in the air. Immediately do you obey his simple commands like a lost pup, hands clasped prettily in-front of your chest as you easily plop yourself on his lap. Your back almost hits his chest, akin to a literal brick wall from all of the labour work he’s done. Unconsciously does his large hands come to your hips, positioning them slightly just so you’d be a tad bit more comfortable.

It’s easy to tilt your head upwards to see his face, the prickles of hair sticking out on his chin is the most prominent thing from your view. He feels your stare almost immediately and looks down at your beady eyes. He has to stop himself from grinning at your unawareness.

The cowpoke could only narrow his eyes at the soft giggle you produced from your mouth, a hand resting on your hip, “What?”

You look away with a tiny smile, “Nuthin’.”

He lets out another deep sigh, before pinching your cheek.

𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍

The bottle of beer in his hand almost slips to the ground after hearing your simple question.

He raises a hand to scratch at the stubble on his jaw, mindful to be aware of the deep claw-marks embedded on his skin. The bottle was placed on the table with a clumsy clatter, back supported by the edge of the table.

“..Watchu say?” He squints his dark eyes at you. He must’ve drunk too much, perhaps he heard you wrong. His tone was always raspy yet so demeaning playful even. You took it as if he didn’t want you to, and you shrink meekly.

You stutter shyly, “I’ll just go ask someone else—

He felt his guts squeeze and churn at the sight of you sitting on someone else’s lap. All sense of proper etiquette is thrown away from jealousy and alcoholic behaviour, his hand is very quick to grabbing yours as he roughly pulls you back. A tiny squeal escapes your lap as you clumsily fall on his chest and onto his hard thighs.

Your hands are clinging onto his opened top to balance yourself, the smirk on his face visible as he sees how shy you suddenly became.

The strong scent of alcohol makes your nose scrunch up. He rests his chin on the crook of your neck, stubble lightly tickling your sensitive skin. After a few minutes of making yourself comfy on his lap and finally staying still, his hand comes to grab his bottle to take another chug.

“John,” You almost whine at the way he unconsciously starts to bounce his knee up and down. A habit he’s not prone to ever since he started drinking. It was almost like he forgot you were sitting on his lap after a few minutes. Immediately does he stop his movement, a low slurr of babbles and a soft hiccup escapes his lips, “Whoops— sorry ‘bout that, sweetheart.”

Suddenly, he cheekily stares down at you.

“Y’know,” He hics.

“Yer behind feels kinda good on my-

“John.”

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐇

He’s a bit clueless at first, bless his heart.

He’s busy carving a small piece of wood with his knife, hunched over as his long hair falls, covering the sides of his face almost elegantly. He wasn’t bothered to tie his hair back, nor raise a finger to place it behind his ear. He stops re-shaping the small piece of wood as he hears a soft patter of footsteps from in-front.

“Hm?” He hums, his guard lowers significantly once realising it was you. The knife is lowered too, and the items were placed afar so it does not distract you nor come in your way.

“May I please sit on your lap?” You ask with those big beady eyes of yours, hands behind your back as your tone is light and sweet.

Of course, silence is ensured for a few seconds. His brooding figure straightens up from his spot. He quirks a dark, angular brow at your much smaller figure.

“Why?” He asks with a straight face.

Your cheeks burn, and your expression was alike of a kicked pup. He catches on quickly, and he immediately feels bad for seeming so nonchalant and blunt.

“U-Um.. I just, I wanted to.. N-nevermind. Sorry.” You shyly stammer, akin to a doe whom tries to stand up for the first time.

He easily suppresses the smile which almost etched onto his face at your stuttering. Cute.

“I didn’t say no, y’know.” He gestures you to come over with a simple pat on his thigh. You beam, eagerly toddling to him like a tiny tot wanting to get her stuffies. You sit yourself on his thighs, shoes quite literally lifting off of the ground because of how big he was. Even if he sat down, he still always towered over you.

He allows you to wiggle a bit on his lap, but a hand comes down to rest on your knee to squeeze it a bit as a gentle warning to not go any higher. You do obey, of course. Your back is to his chest, your hands positioned on your lap as you almost melt at how warm he was.

“Comfortable?” At each word he uttered to you, it was more toned down in pitch, a low hum always started. You nod lazily, a smile of satisfaction of how comfy he felt underneath. You don’t mind the way he snakes his arms around your waist. “Good.”

𝐉𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐔𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀

You regret asking.

Simply put, he’s handsy.

The smirk on his face is very visible. The log he rests upon feels even more smaller as he slowly starts to manspread right in front of you. The guitar in his hand is placed gently just to the side before he beckons you to come forth. You reluctantly sit on his lap, almost squirming at how close he was.

A hand on your hip, another squish to your thigh, a soft roll from his hip teasingly upwards, a touch here, a touch there..

“Javier!” You whine, swatting his hand off your curves. He could only teasingly grin, before shrugging. “..Tu pediste esto.” His voice serenades.

You try to swat his hands off again, but merely give up, knowing he won’t stop any time soon. You lay your cheek on his chest, lithe arms wrapped around his waist as your back arches a tad bit from not supporting your structure. His hands are on the small of your back, rubbing small circles on the softness of your clothed skin.

The embers from the mini camp-fire is light and descends off in the dark night, crackles of the wood calms your nerves down just a bit. He does tone his touch down just a tad bit for your sake, despite wanting to desperately grab at.. literally anything. He’s had ladies before, but by far was he the neediest when it came to you.

You can’t help but take a small peak from above, wispy lashes coming to tinker a bit when he tilts his gaze to fixate on you. A small smile on his face, as he greedily eats up all of the touch you gave to him.

“..hi.” You quietly mumble, a bit muffled because of the fact that half of your face is mushed against the fabrics of his clothes. A fox-like grin etches on his tan face as he presses a tiny kiss on your forehead, entertaining you by replying with a simple “hola.”

“You’re really clingy- and touchy. I hope you know that.” You grumble when his hand comes to cup your curves again.

He smiles lazily. “I know.”

[awritesthings1]

Gone with the Leaves

Pairing: Tommy Shelby / Wife Reader

Summary: Despite your happy marriage to Tommy, you feel an undeniable jealousy towards Lizzie. Perhaps a day in the forest will do you some good.

ao3 link

A/N: I'm starting a tag list, comment if you want to be added :)

-

“You write like you’re running out of time,” mused Lizzie Stark, former prostitute, now Tommy’s secretary. “They have typewriters for those types of things, y’know?”

You saw the volley of cannonballs that launched and subsequently landed on Tommy’s desk as the words left her mouth. It wasn’t that you expected more of poor old plain Lizzie, but you thought that the time she had spent lying on her back staring past the shoulder of a customer at the ceiling would have taught her to read a room. Nevertheless, she stood there, quite amused with herself, smiling stupidly at your husband.

Tommy, who had been sitting at his desk all afternoon attending to letters, the ledger, and god knows what else, peered up from the paper. “What did you say?”

This time, it was your turn to be amused. He pointed accusingly at Lizzie, who by then had realised her impetuous mistake. Her wide eyes fluttered to you desperately, like a bee that had indulged itself in so much pollen that it became stuck in its own honey. No, that was putting it lightly. She looked to you like a frightened child who knew exactly what kind of trouble they were in.

You made sure you looked the other way.

“It was only a silly joke,” came her spluttering apology.

Tommy squinted, and his mouth curled into a frown. Smoke chased the deep exhale from the cigarette hanging between his lips. Your husband carried this terrifying look to him that many feared. Without the peaky cap to cover his striking blue eyes, you saw his glare cut away the cords in Lizzie’s throat with just one look. How could poor Lizzie defend herself from eyes that had witnessed nightmarish things?

“I’m not clear. Is it funny that I sign my letters by hand, or are you above using ink now that you have graduated from the bed to the desk?”

Lizzie’s mouth wormed into a thin line, yet she still looked to you for help. Of what help she thought you would possibly spare, you weren’t sure. For once, Lizzie used initiative and showed herself out.

Your heels clacked across the wooden threshold of your husband’s office. Now that no one was there to disturb you both, you sat down on Tommy’s lap. By then, he was leaning back on his chair, work abandoned for the time being until he could wash the sour sight of Lizzie Stark from his eyes.

“You know I don’t like her,” you said plainly.

There was no need for fake smiles or lies with Tommy. You knew him, and he knew you.

Tommy exhaled loudly, stubbing out the last of his cigarette on his ashtray and taking a swig of whiskey before his calloused hand found your waist.

He clears his throat. “It’s only business with her.”

“I know, but that doesn’t mean I like her any less.”

Tommy loved you, not Lizzie Stark, yet you couldn’t stomach the undeniable jealousy that arose with her presence. Perhaps it was a natural inclination women had toward their lovers. Lizzie had never done anything outwardly wrong to you. So, what was it then that turned your plain teeth into hissing fangs?

Everyone knew that Tommy was one of her paying customers before you met him, but so were all of Small Heath. You never felt insecure in your relationship with Tommy; there was no need to feel threatened by a prostitute. Yet that wouldn’t stop the catty feline that emerged from its slumber when Lizzie’s wandering eyes battered at your husband.

No. Lizzie Stark would never know what it felt like to be loved by a man like Tommy. What you held in your hands each night was a transcendental, unconditional type of love—one that surpassed the heart and soul, which drew two beings together in the most unconventional yet fitting way. The way that covers kept you warm at night, Tommy watched over your hearth and kept the fire burning, even if he were on the other side of the country.

You closed your eyes, leaning into the valley between Tommy’s neck and shoulder as you listened for the bah-dum-bah-dum of his heart. They sat together in silence, cherishing each other’s presence, while Tommy rested his cheek on your head. Outside, the world waited, barking at their front door and scratching at the delicately carved wood. Even the rain lashed at the windowpanes, playing together like one elemental orchestra.

The hand not resting on your waist rose to gently stroke up and down your arm. You shivered, but it wasn’t from the cold.

“I think you have some work to attend to in the bedroom,” you mumbled into his neck.

Your nose searched for the spot where he applied his aftershave.

“Eh?” Came his gruff response.

Your hand wandered down his suit in answer.

-

The sheets were bundled around Tommy’s naked waist when you sauntered back over to the bed with his case of cigarettes in hand. Gratefully, he took the case from your hand, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to pull you into the warmth of his chest. Then he began the usual routine. He fished out a cigarette to offer, but you shook your head no, so he slid it once, then twice, across his bottom lip. On the bedside table, he grabbed the half-empty matchbox to light the cigarette.

Tommy was the resident chain smoker in your house. With an appetite for tobacco and whiskey, you often wondered just how he sustained himself throughout the day. Of course, there were the home-cooked meals at Arrow House waiting for his return, although that didn’t stop you from worrying any less. It was pathetic, really, sitting all alone in his study, twiddling your fingers, and sitting beneath his portrait like you were praying to him. Tommy was no god, no matter how much he tried to convince everyone else. Yet whenever headlights passed the window and lit up the office momentarily, you would stand up and peer out, hoping to spot your husband exiting the car.

He cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to the present. You loved watching the way the cigarette shifted between his lips when he spoke, even more when his hooded eyes looked over at you. Tommy was a man of few words, simply because he didn’t need language to communicate. His body spoke for him in tongues for all his enemies to understand. And more importantly, in a way your body understood.

Your hand abandoned his tattoo to stroke a thumb across his full bottom lip. Lust swelled there, eager to chase the rest of the night away into a haze of pleasure until the sun rose. As tempting as it was, you sighed at the thought. You would rather spend this time taking in your husband, remembering the fine details across his face and body, from the scar in the hollow of his cheek to the rough texture beneath his shoulder blade where a bullet was once lodged. You wanted to trace the sockets of his eyes the way a blind person would, treasuring each valley, mountain, and cut of skin as if it were to disappear the second you stopped touching him.

“You’re beautiful,” you decided, bathed in candlelight, tangled up between the sheets and Tommy’s arms.

Tommy’s brows furrowed, and the cigarette hung dangerously loose from where his lips curled into a frown. He grunted, clearly dissatisfied with your words. Tommy wasn’t beautiful. He was hard, ambitious, and unmovable force.

Beautiful was a conventional word savored for the finest women. To you? It meant so much more. Crafted in a way that would cause people to stare, sure, but there was also a poetic sense to the word. The type of beauty you would use to describe a well-written novel or heart-wrenching poem. Thomas Shelby stood for something, and that was beautiful.

“Then what are you, eh?”

A lazy smile floated onto your face, so much so that you had to bite your lip to refrain from looking devastatingly pleased at his answer.

A woman, a dreamer, a friend, a reader, an achiever. “A wife.”

He huffed, raising his eyebrows playfully.

Why was it that most women felt like they could only fit the frame of one? With Tommy, you were never limited to the endless possibilities. You treasured being a wife the same way you treasured your other roles. Marriage wasn’t the end all be all. Perhaps that’s another lie men spun—that perfectly capable women stopped existing as soon as a diamond ring slid onto their finger. How sad, you thought, to waste away all that potential when men were still free to pursue stupid ideas like war and dog fights.

Tommy was unbothered by traditional ideas like that. Change powered his ambition; he had no time for parallel lines. You could be his wife, a writer, a singer, or a mother—whatever you wanted—and he wouldn’t think of you any less.

You hummed, chasing that cigarette from his lips and stubbing it out in the ash tray by his bedside table. Tommy didn’t seem too heartbroken about it. In fact, there was some mirth in his gaze. His hands traced up your naked spine, pulling your body further into his until you could smell the smoke in his breath.

“Yes,” he breathed in loudly through his nose, “my wife.”

-

The following day, you were invited to the Basnett's hunting party. You would’ve been more enthusiastic to write about your excitement to attend if the whole ordeal hadn’t been so troublesome. Because a few days prior, when you were visiting your husband’s office, you had caught sight of the letter on Lizzie’s desk, a letter that was supposed to reach you days earlier.

“What’s this?” You asked.

“Oh, nothing interesting,” Lizzie had said, too occupied with filing her nails while on the clock.

You kept your composure for the sake of keeping the peace. You didn’t wish to disturb Tommy if he were to walk by.

“This is a letter addressed to me,” you pressed.

“Oh.” She stopped for a moment, then leaned over to read the letter you had pulled from the messy pile. “No, it’s addressed to Tommy.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Shelby,” you hissed quietly, with emphasis on the missus.

“Hm, I didn’t notice.”

“You are paid to notice.” You fought the urge to comment that she was paid for other things not long ago. “How long has this been sitting here?”

Lizzie tapped her cigarette ash into the tray. “The post boy dropped that lot off yesterday.”

Even if it was only two days late to reach your hand, by society’s standards, that may have well been taken as you snubbing the invitation. Frustratingly, you had to cancel your plans that day and personally deliver your letter to the Basnett’s door, citing some excuse of it having been lost in the post.

“That woman is up to no good.” You said glumly that night into Tommy’s chest.

“I’ll speak to her,” he promised in that stoic tone of his.

Whether he had been true to his words, you weren’t sure because Lizzie made an effort to avoid you when possible.

“Oh! Mrs. Shelby! How wonderful for you to join us! Come in, come in. The men are readying their rifles for the hunt outside. How exciting!” Gushed Lady Basnett, shooing you into the atrium of her lavish mansion.

Your riding boots clacked across the floor before being muffled by an intricately woven rug. You stared up at the chandelier, childishly wondering if it would hit you if it were to fall at that moment.

“Right this way, Mrs. Shelby!” Lady Basnett ushered excitably.

You debated if all her energy was for show—to please her husband and be the good wife he expected of her. After she showed you through to the veranda and down to the circle of wives who had gathered under the trees while their husbands readied for the hunt, you decided that no, she must truly enjoy planning social occasions like this, as evidenced by the way she kissed Sarah’s cheek in greeting with a wide grin.

It pleased you to know that Lady Basnett found joy in something. Ever since her eldest died in the war, she has been known to be a bit of a recluse.

“Oh, what a beautiful ring! May we see it?” Doe-eyed Catherine asked.

She was one of the younger wives, like yourself. Catherine married an older man, twice her senior. Many of the wives here faulted her for it behind her back, but not you. You saw more of yourself in her than you did in any of the other women. Because, despite the age gap, the girl seemed to be utterly head-over-heels in love with a man society deemed old-fashioned for her. And how could you blame her when you swore an oath to a gangster of all people?

You obliged and let the wives twist and turn your hand to better inspect the diamonds on your ring finger.

“It’s perfect!”

“How many carats?”

“My Mary would be so jealous!”

After dutifully showing your wedding ring, you noticed the men beginning to mount their horses.

Catherine hooked her arm around yours. “Come on, we are going to be left behind!”

She jovially pulled you along the stone tiles at a speed that made you grateful for wearing riding boots. The backyard was grand in the sense that the acres they owned stretched vastly into the nearby forest. Although there were impressive features, like the hedge they had grown into a maze and the trees that were shaped into birds.

“Lady Basnett owned an aviary of budgies. Dear little things they were, she was devastated when they all escaped one night after the groundskeeper forgot to close the door,” Catherine commented, having noticed the way your head was turned.

You laughed, because you could precisely picture Lady Basnett as the type to fawn over little budgies.

Catherine led you to the horses, where some of the wives were already perched, waiting for the party to leave. None of them carried rifles, but rather wicker baskets strapped to the saddle for the picnic they planned to have at the top of the hill while they waited for their husbands to finish hunting.

Together, you set off, having mounted the back of Catherine’s mare. Deeper into the forest you went, the black mare trotting over loose dirt and rocks. Both of you remained at the end of the pack, preferring to keep to yourselves in light conversation.

Then it all happened so suddenly. One of the rifles went off up ahead, and a flock of birds rushed at you from the break in the foliage, startling your mare. You gasped in shock and reached for Catherine’s jacket to hold on, but only skimmed her. She went face first into the dirt while you were swept into the air like a leaf and fell with the grace of a rock. The ground thundered as the mare galloped into the distance.

“Fuck!” Catherine spat.

(On her fall she had taken a mouthful of soil and leaves.)

“They’ll come back,” you tried to reassure her.

-

Hours later, the two of you still had not been found.

“I was a prostitute before George found me, y’know.”

No, you didn’t know.

“That’s why I’m so young and he so old,” she smiled fondly, laughing as if it were the most normal thing.

You couldn’t find it in your heart to dislike her because of her circumstances. She was your friend, and a true one at that.

What was it that Tommy said? The past is the past.

-

The sun began to set when one of the men from the hunting party found you both huddled together under a tree. Kindly, he let the two of you ride the rest of the way back despite your hesitance to mount another horse.

When you returned to Lady Basnett’s, with Catherine in arm, the sun had been set for at least two hours. You hadn’t realized what trouble you had gotten yourself into until you noticed Tommy’s Bentley parked in the crowded driveway of the mansion. Men stood at the gate, armed and waiting. Catherine opened her mouth to remark how ridiculous it was, but you kept your lips sealed after recognizing the guards to be Peaky Blinders.

Tommy had to be beside himself.

A young boy who was playing between the cars popped his head out when the gates squealed open. His ears perked up, and he ran inside, clutching his peaky cap, to probably inform the adults inside of your arrival. People pooled out onto the front steps, the women covering their hearts and sighing with relief, and the men holding their hats to their chests. But when your husband, Tommy, came storming out, they parted like the red sea.

He stalked across the gravel like a predator, his eyes trained on you with an unblinking stare.

“Are you hurt?” He ignored Catherine, cupping your face and frantically looking between both your eyes as if you would disappear.

Upon further inspection, his eyes were bloodshot, and the white sleeves of his blouse were bundled into the golden garters. Your hands itched to muse his disheveled hair into place, but with all the curious onlookers, you thought better of it.

“No.”

George, Catherine’s husband, was quick to whisk her away inside. You heard Lady Basnett’s voice trailing after them: “Oh my, what a terrible thing. Come now, let me pour you some tea.”

Unfortunately, tea wouldn’t make up for any lost ground with Tommy.

“We’re going.”

You knew better to open your mouth to disagree. This was Tommy being afraid and carrying on. He retreated into himself. It didn’t look pretty or like he cared, but he cared; you knew he cared. It was only that no one else was allowed to know that the great Thomas Shelby felt any emotion.

At Arrow House, he swallowed two glasses of whiskey before saying a word. You were pulling at the hem of the overcoat that Tommy had shook off his shoulders to give you for the ride home. Your fingers just couldn’t stand the anxious silence that rang throughout the room.

“What the fuck happened?”

He stood in front of you, stoic as a soldier but cracking around the exterior thanks to his hand, which itched for the cigarette case inside his pocket. (A nervous tick of his.) You grab his hand between your own before he can fish out the case.

“The horse got spooked. It bucked Catherine and me off, but we’re fine.”

His thumb rubs across your knuckles as he looks past your shoulder out the window.

“Do you know where I was when I got the call? Eh? I was handling some business when Lizzie came in and told me some posh old woman was on the line, saying you were missing.”

He exhaled sharply, dropping his gaze to you, where you noticed his eyes soften.

“I thought…” He broke off.

His chin dropped, and he went to itch his nose with his other hand.

“What did you think happened? Is there something I should know about?” Concern leaked into your voice.

“No,” he huffed, clearing his throat. “It doesn’t matter. You’re home, and you’re safe.”

You bit your lip to stop yourself from saying anything that might push him over the edge. He was fragile in a state like this in the sense that he pushed the stronger, more vivid feelings to the side because you were his wife, not a Peaky Blinder. No, you would never be, even though you married one.

Often, you would wish you could turn into the leaves that swept off the pavement and into the air. Imagine then how much easier life would be for you both—to forget the animosity of life and rise above it all, breathe in that crystal air, and then finally exclaim the truth because up there no one could hear them or cared enough to try anyway.

Cautiously, you let go of his hand and traced your fingertips up to knead away the tension in his jaw.

“Thomas… Do you remember what you asked of me? To help you with the whole fucking thing—”

“From now on—”

“Thomas—”

“From now on, let me know where you are going. I will organize a guard to watch over you.”

‘You write like you’re running out of time,’ Lizzie’s poorly placed joke from the start of the week reverberated in your skull.

Was he?

“I need you,” he breathed, the smell of whiskey fanning over your senses.

You nodded, pressing up on your toes to kiss him. A soft breath escaped him when you pulled away.

“You have me.”

[rafesangelita]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ everyone is lucky farmer’s!daughter!reader is in a jail cell when she finds out her favorite sheriff isn’t around because he’s on a date with another woman..

warnings: mentions of being groped in public, just a little bit of southern dialect, small town gossip, mentions of jj x reader, lots of comebacks and insults, jealousy, implied age gap, reader stays the night in jail, hitting, very slight physical altercation, reassurance, comfort (?), little bit of kissing, suggestive ending

a/n: read more of sheriff!rafe and farmer’s!daughter!reader here <3 i would say this particular situation takes place in the beginning stages of their complicated relationship lol. read how sheriff!rafe’s date went here!

wc: 1.5k

“what did she do this time?” sheriff thornton looked up from his desk, an amused smile playing on his lips as you glared at him from under your lashes. “she threw drinks over at keith’s son, ‘said he groped her and all hell broke loose.” your wrists ached as the metal of the handcuffs dug into your skin, your boots scuffing the concrete flooring before the sheriff behind you plopped you down in a chair. “she gave me a hard time and resisted arrest, so now she’s here.” you scoffed at his words, a bitter laugh emitting from your throat. “i gave you a hard time because you tried to apprehend me before the asshole that started it!”

both of them ignored you, leaving you to sit uncomfortably in the main office while bryan, the newest rookie in the department, got your paperwork together. “uhm— do you have anyone you could call? it looks like you’re going to stay the night in here..” he looked almost scared as he broke the news to you, his eyes blinking rapidly as you shot daggers at him from where you sat. “are you pulling my leg?” you narrowed your gaze, “there’s no way in hell i’m spending the night here.” you shook your head, hopping onto your feet. just then, topper came in and sat you back down.

“i’m already in the shit house with rafe for manhandling you last time, don’t make me do it again.” speaking of rafe.. “you’re not scaring anybody, topper.” you used his first name against him, catching him off guard. “where’s sheriff cameron, anyways? i’m sure he’d love to know that you haven’t fixed my skirt since i’ve gotten here. i think the new boy has already stolen a peek at my underwear.” bryan’s eyes widened at your words. “i haven’t, miss, i swear!” topper glanced over at him with irritation evident on his face. “she’s fuckin’ with you kid, jesus.”

dragging you up by your arm, topper lead you to the back where the holding cells were. “it’s a shame you’re wearing nearly nothing,” he shoved you inside, “it’s gets pretty cold in here.” you cursed under your breath when he finally uncuffed you, your fingers itching to punch him square in the mouth. he watched as you adjusted your denim mini skirt, his eyes trailing down your bare legs. “you’re a mystery, y’know.. ‘way too young to be acting up like this.” if you had a penny for every time someone brought up your age, you’d have enough money to leave this shitty town and never look back.

“and you’re just annoying.” you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest before sitting at the edge of the cold steel bed. you should’ve been used to the discomfort by now, considering you’re here at least once a month, but you still couldn’t help but shiver at the harsh contact. “i need to talk to sheriff cameron. i shouldn’t even be here.” topper walked out of the cell, locking it shut behind him. “yeah, well he’s not on duty tonight. my pal finally scored himself a date.” he laughed. you felt your stomach twist at his words. not a damn thing was funny. “what did you say?” your voice was barely above a whisper when you looked up at him and met his eyes.

“yeah,” he nodded, “me and the department decided we’d stitch him up with ms. belle, she teaches the children’s sunday school down at the church.” he winked. your leg was bouncing now, your chest heaving with anger as your eyes brimmed with tears. “who knows, maybe after tonight they’ll be the newlyweds of the town.” you looked down at your feet before topper could question anything, your nails digging crescents into the palm of your hand. once you heard the heavy metal door slam shut, you covered your mouth with your hand as tight as you could and screamed.

rafe was so scared of what people would think of you two, he never showed you affection in public, let alone take you out on a proper date, yet here he was; willingly taking someone else. no matter how many times you told him you didn’t care about what anyone thought, he insisted that it was for your own good that no one saw you running around with a man who was much older than you were. the people of this town were far too judgmental to just accept something like what you and rafe had. figuring it was pointless to use your one free phone call, you settled into the hard surface before curling up and shivering yourself to sleep.

“y/n..” it was the next morning, and you were far from letting go of the information you found out last night. “y/n, you’re free to go.” your eyes were open as rafe patted your back lightly, his touch only fueling you with pent up anger. turning around, you shoved his hand away, your eyes bloodshot from crying so much. “don’t touch me again,” you hissed, “not ever.” rafe sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as you got up on sore legs. “i had to stay here all because you were too busy with someone else!” you spat, shoving him again except this time in his chest.

“hey, you stop that!” he said through gritted teeth, shooting up to his feet before backing you up against the cement wall. “i hate you!” you whispered, attempting to get out of his grip. your efforts were deemed useless of course, your strength being nothing compared to his. “no you don’t.” he pinned your wrists down by your sides. he hated when you said shit like that, then again he knew you had every right to feel the way you did. nothing about your shared arrangement was fair, especially for you. “i went on that date for the sake of getting everyone off of my back, alright? it didn’t mean a thing.”

you laughed, avoiding his heated gaze. “well surely it meant something, because you agreed. you agreed and got ready and dressed nicely for her. you fixed your hair, you shaved, you put on your best smelling cologne and you picked her up. don’t you dare tell me it didn’t mean nothing when you put in that much effort.” rafe blinked, his nostrils flaring as he cupped your chin and forced you to look at him. “it didn’t mean a thing.” he repeated. you stared at him, reading his eyes as best as you could. “sure.” to say you were hurt would be an understatement.

“i mean it,” he started, “i did it for appearances. i’ve never been married, i don’t have any children. people talk around here, y/n, and just recently did i hear something about us both. people are catching onto your ‘get out of jail’ free card, and you could only imagine what their reasoning for that was.” he grimaced, recalling the disgusting words filtering the air of the diner where he drank his morning coffee. while the claims weren’t completely false, his said intentions couldn’t be more wrong. “rafe,” you glared at him, “i. don’t. care.” not wanting to rile you up any further, he let go of you before you could get the bright idea to knee him in his manhood.

“you know.. how do you think i feel when i have to see you around here kissing jj fuckin’ maybank, and i can’t do shit about it, huh? how do you think i feel when i see him have his hands all over you? you think i like that shit?” you rolled your eyes, about to step out of the open cell before he shut it closed. “why do you do that? why do you get joy out of pissing me off?” rafe caged you between his arms, his gun holster digging into your hip.

“first of all, i’m keeping up appearances just like you.” you stood up on your tippy toes, pecking his cheek before you placed your lips right next to his ear. “and secondly; you only act like you care about me when i’m all over someone else. it’s either that or i have to get into legal trouble just to get you to myself. so you try to imagine what that makes me feel like.” you pulled him close by the buckle of his belt, his large hands finding your hips as he towered over you. “do i really have to go to jail just to get a kiss?” rafe leaned down, his lips finally taking your own. he groaned at the taste of you, your cherry lipgloss still sticky with its sweetness.

you two stayed kissing like this until he grew rock solid in his pants, the buckle of his belt not being the only thing poking your tummy. “i don’t want you with any other women. i can’t take it.” rafe nodded, his bottom lip shining with your gloss. “you have my word, sweetheart. i’ll set aside time for us to be together, i promise.” his sheriff’s hat tipped to the side, revealing his buzzed scalp. “but if i see you with that maybank kid i’ll have to lock him up for good.” you smiled, your red nails raking down his buff arms. “yes, sir.” rafe cursed at the nickname as he glanced down at the digital watch on his wrist.

“i got about an hour to spare..” you hummed at his words, palming him through his pants.

“well what are we waiting for?”

[sleepingdiaryzzz]

After reading your thing on Yan!YoungJustice x MagicUser!Reader I got an idea.

Scenario where in the middle of a training exercise (or maybe out in the field?) Reader is doing a spell and all that, y’know?

But then Kid Flash (Wally) trips and falls flat on his face in a miserable display, and Reader just loses all focus on their spell, despite being in the middle of a battle, and just… bursts out laughing at Wally.

Like, a genuine laugh, the kind that has you wheezing for breaths. Maybe they were even floating in the air when doing the spell and they fall without care as they laugh at Wally’s expense.

From 🪼

Yandere young Justice x magician! Reader

The air crackled with energy as you floated above the team, your eyes closed in concentration. The battle raged below you, but to you, it was little more than a distraction—a necessary annoyance. Your hands moved in a fluid, practiced motion, drawing sigils in the air as you muttered an incantation under your breath. You were far above the chaos, detached, focused entirely on the magic at your fingertips.

The rest of the team was doing their part—Wally zipped around the field, darting in and out of combat with a grin plastered on his face, his usual energy never seeming to wane. Artemis was steady with her arrows, Connor was keeping a watchful eye, and Robin was darting from one target to another, his movements precise. Yet, none of them were enough to distract you. You were the only one who didn't seem to be feeling the adrenaline, the only one unaffected by the clash of powers below.

That was, until—

Wally tripped. It wasn’t just a stumble or a slip. No, it was a full-on faceplant. His legs flew out from under him, and in a miserable display of grace, he tumbled forward, his arms flailing helplessly before his face met the ground with a wet smack. His mask tilted sideways, revealing a mix of confusion and mild embarrassment.

And suddenly, you were lost.

The spell you had been weaving evaporated like smoke in the wind, the sigils vanishing into nothingness as you burst out laughing—genuine, uncontrollable laughter. It started small, just a chuckle, but then it grew. Your chest heaved, your laughter shaking you so much that you could barely stay in the air. You felt weightless, utterly carefree, as the sight of Wally, sprawled and hopeless on the ground, consumed you.

Your laughter was loud, too loud for the battlefield, and it made the others stop in their tracks. Even Wally, now sitting up and rubbing his nose, couldn’t help but chuckle weakly, but he was still painfully aware of your gaze. He was used to being the one who made others laugh with his antics, but this time—this time, he was the one being laughed at.

And you? You could barely stop laughing. You let yourself fall from the air, no longer caring about the battle or the magic you had been controlling. You landed with a soft thud, still giggling so hard that your sides ached. You didn’t even bother to hold it back, letting the joy of the moment flow freely.

“Wally,” you gasped between laughs, your voice catching in your throat, “You’re a disaster.”

The team stood frozen for a moment, processing what had just happened. Robin blinked, confused by the sudden outburst. You never laughed. Not like that. He stared at you, his mind racing. It wasn’t just that you laughed—it was how easily it had come. You, who had always been so detached, so distant. To see you so utterly disarmed, so... human, was an odd feeling. And though Robin was trying to maintain his usual calm composure, a strange twinge of jealousy flickered within him.

Wally, still recovering from his humiliating fall, smiled sheepishly. “Okay, okay, laugh it up. But hey, I’m the fastest, right? I’ll get the last laugh.”

But the others? The others were a little more concerned than they let on.

Artemis crossed her arms, her eyes narrowed. She didn’t show it, but there was something about seeing you laughing at Wally—laughing, full stop—that made something stir inside her. Was she annoyed? Or maybe... was she jealous? She shook it off, but the thought lingered, an unexpected twist in her chest.

Kaldur, calm and steady as ever, looked at you with a subtle shift in his gaze. He had seen the way you kept yourself apart, always in your own world, never truly engaging with the team. To see you let go, even if just for a moment, was... startling. And yet, he found himself drawn to that side of you. He didn’t want to admit it, but there was something in that laugh that he wished he could see again. That was a side of you no one ever got to see. He could feel the weight of that moment, and in the pit of his stomach, he couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to you than just the distant, untouchable magic-user they all knew.

Conner’s eyes darkened, just a fraction. He wasn’t angry, not exactly. But there was something... wrong, about Wally being the cause of your laughter. He should’ve been the one to bring that out of you. He would have been the one to make you smile like that, if only you had let him in. But no—Wally, of all people, got that reaction. The thought gnawed at him, though he tried to bury it. Still, as he turned his attention back to the mission, the feeling wouldn’t go away.

M'gann, ever empathetic, watched you with a strange mixture of relief and longing. She had always seen the potential for something more behind your distant exterior. But this—this laugh—was the most human she’d seen you in a long time. It made her heart ache to see you so carefree, so real. She wanted to know more, to understand why this moment had broken through that wall you had built around yourself. But a part of her, a selfish part, couldn’t help but wish that she had been the one to make you laugh like that. That she had been the one to break through.

But Wally? Wally just shrugged it off, still grinning through the embarrassment. “Guess I’m just too good at making things entertaining,” he said, brushing himself off.

You looked at him, still chuckling softly, your breath uneven. “You’re so fucking stupid” you replied, finally starting to regain your composure.

But in the back of your mind, you knew something had shifted. You had given them all a glimpse of who you really were, if only for a moment. And even if they didn’t say it, the way they were all watching you now, their expressions just a little more intense, a little more focused, told you that you’d made an impact.

And somehow, you didn’t mind at all.

[modanisgf]

— INTRO (END OF THE WORLD) , KIM MINJI

— KIM MINJI AS YOUR GIRLFRIEND !

✎ WARNING(S) — none tbh!!

✎ WORD COUNT — <1k

a/n: hi guys i HATE this but i wanna post smth. im so tired 😭😭💔 divider creds: @/plutism

nwjns masterlist

• MINJI who loves when you take her clothes, she actually giggles whenever she sees you walking around with them on. you once did a live in her hoodie to which she was texting you the entire time about how pretty you looked. (you had to end the live early and go over to her dorm).

“what is minji laughing like that about?” hanni asks, a look of disgust on her face.

“y/n went live in a hoodie of hers.” hyein responds, groaning as she bangs her head on the table.

“she’s been giggling all evening.” haerin says.

“i just wanna watch princess and the frog..” dani says disappointedly, making her members laugh.

• MINJI whose love language is gift giving. she likes to leave little gifts at your apartment while you’re away, always smiling whenever she gets a thank you text hours later from you.

you walked into your apartment after a long day at work, flopping onto your couch when you noticed a small box sitting on your coffee table. the sight made you groan, you knew it was minji again.

she had been giving you so many gifts recently that you didn’t even want to open it. you carefully unwrapped the box (minji insisted on wrapping it even if her wrapping was horrible) and opened it up to find a small journal. inside were tons of polaroid pictures of you and minji, the sight making you smile. there were photos from you first date, and even all the way back to when you met while trainees. it filled you with a sense of nostalgia, picking up your phone to text minji.

• MINJI who loves to kiss your face, whether it’s your forehead or your temple she’ll always make sure to give you a kiss whenever she sees you.

you lay your head on minji’s shoulder as you both watched the sunset, you felt so safe in her presence. minji kept her eyes on you even with the sight in front of her, nothing else could top your beautiful face in her mind. she wanted to kiss you so bad, the temptation getting to her as she gave you a small nudge.

“huh?” you ask, jumping a bit as minji held your chin and gave a small kiss to your forehead.

“sorry, you looked really good..” minji mumbles, making you blush.

you give a small kiss to her forehead as well, the smile on her face making you giggle.

“you’re so cute.”

• MINJI who gets jealous easily, especially seeing you with other idols.

you were currently doing a special performance with sana of twice, the two of you doing a cover of taste by sabrina carpenter. it was a very sudden and laat minute performance, so the look on minji’s face when she saw you on stage with your favorite idol was nothing but jealousy.

she knew it was just a performance and she shouldn’t care, but with the way you talked about sana before you guys got together she couldn’t help but feel jealous. your voices mixed well together as-well, the loud cheers in the audience making minji more annoyed.

minji was taken out of her trance by hanni, the shorter girl giving her older member a glare.

“there’s no way you’re seriously jealous of them right now.” hanni says, suppressing a giggle.

“oh shut up.” minji groans, nudging hanni the side making the younger girl giggle.

“you’re gonna get us on dispatch minji, brighten up.” hanni says to which minji rolls her eyes.

“that girl loves you y’know. sana isn’t gonna scoop her up, she knows about you two.” hanni says, to which minji visibly relaxes at.

“oh.” minji mumbles, she felt stupid.

“got all jealous for nothing.” hanni says, giggling again making minji push her.

“i hate you so much.” minji deadpans, ignoring the way her anger only made hanni laugh more.

• MINJI who loves spending time with you, regardless of your busy schedules.

when you and minji finally got a second to yourself, you chose to watch a movie together. you lay there in minji’s lap, eyes on the tv as she held you close.

the silence was comforting so much that you fell asleep about thirty minutes into the movie, making your girlfriend laugh.

minji ran her hands through your hair once more before relaxing back into the couch, it was a rare occurrence that you two got to spend the night together. she fell asleep only minutes later after you, her hands hugging your sides as she went in a deep sleep.

[ninibeingdelulu]

So much jealousy

synopsis-> Walking in the streets with your boyfriend, a little boy come to compliment you.

The afternoon sun beat down in blazing streaks across the crowded city sidewalk causing a sheen of perspiration to glisten along your exposed collarbones.

You didn't mind the balmy heat one bit, chattering away merrily while clinging to Sukuna's side as the two of you navigated through the chaotic foot traffic.

"Y’know, babe, I'm actually kinda stunned you agreed to come wandering around in public with me today," you hummed cheerfully, pointedly ignoring his trademark frigid glower currently fixated dead ahead.

"Could it be the great and terrible Ryomen Sukuna might actually enjoy being out amongst the ‘humans’ with his girlfriend every once in a while--"

"Tch. As if I'd ever willingly suffer through that particular circle of hell for any reason other than appeasing your incessant nagging, woman."

His glacial growl easily carried over the dull roar of nearby pedestrians.

Without even glancing your way, one rough calloused palm snaked around your hip to yank you snug against his towering frame.

"Careful you don't get yourself trampled like the weak, insignificant gnat you are while bumbling around daydreaming about nonsense."

You scoffed under your breath, deliberately digging your elbow into his rock-solid ribcage without remorse. "Excuse me for attempting some lighthearted small talk on this lovely afternoon stroll, dear."

The sarcastic endearment practically dripped with saccharine disdain meant solely to rankle his easily riled temper further.

"Hey ! Pretty lady!"

That sweetly boyish shout pierced straight through the dull din surrounding you both, prompting your steps to falter slightly mid-stride.

Sukuna's steely grip around your waist instantly constricted like a vise, head whipping around to zero in on the source of the intrusion.

A young boy no older than perhaps five or six stood beaming up at you from beside a nearby storefront.

His chubby features positively glowed with open childlike awe while eagerly beckoning you closer with one waving hand.

You couldn't help the instinctive upwards curving of your mouth in response to such an earnest, unfiltered reaction. Adorable didn't even begin to scratch the surface--

Before you'd even begun stooping down, Sukuna abruptly wrenched your frame flush with his, effectively halting all forward momentum.

The thunderous look contorting his chiseled features could've curdled fresh dairy as he aimed that full formidable presence like the razor-sharp edge of a katana directly at the innocent child.

A furious retort was already forming on your lips only to catch in your throat at the heated intensity singeing from those red irises glaring murderously.

You knew better than anyone else the full depths of Sukuna's unrestrained power and depravity when provoked - even over such a seemingly trifle matter.

This side of him was still a raging tempest you had yet to navigate carefully at times.

"Hey...whoa there, big guy," you murmured while splaying one hand soothingly up his tensed chest.

"I know how much you despise other humans around me and all, but this little kid clearly meant no harm..."

The lethally coiled lines of his musculature remained etched in grim steel cables beneath your gentle stroking while that smoldering glare refused to abate even a fraction.

"Sukuna, I'm serious - it's not nice when you get like this over noth--"

Your calming words came to an abrupt halt as he suddenly bent at the waist, fingers encircling your wrist in a vise-like manacle while hauling you down with him until your faces were mere scant centimeters apart.

You glimpsed something visceral and undefinable glimmering in those crimson depths before Sukuna growled out his decree in a low thunder:

"Wait until I have you home, woman...and then we'll see how much of a nothing it truly was getting such pitiful, unwanted advances from those lesser beings."

[tojipie]

shiu x fem!reader x toji

content: (fem reader, heavy smut, soo much praise, filming sex, spitroasting, eiffel tower position, threesome, blowjobs, face fucking, cumming on face, aftercare)

summary: just another day at work ! :) nothing raunchy going on here

“fuck, that’s perfect,” shiu mumbles, crouching to get a better shot of where you and toji meet. 

the man rutting into you takes the note as a compliment, bucking his hips back to slam to the hilt. the guttural moan he draws out of you is nothing short of sinful, earning you a laugh from the cameraman.

“oh, the guys at home are gonna fucking love that,” he chuckles, standing to grab a shot of you laying face down, ass up on the leather couch.

a calloused hand raises your face to the camera, squeezing your cheeks into a pucker. you smile, taking note of your fucked out demeanor in the camera reflection. 

“feel good, pretty girl?” toji asks, still gripping your face. 

“mmhm,” you groan, making a show of rolling your eyes back into your head. 

the cameraman looks more than pleased, palming himself over his cheap dress pants. 

“such a treat to have in the studio, y’know that?” he wipes a mascara-filled tear while you look up at him for a brief moment. “driving me fucking crazy.”

the incessant pap-pap-pap of toji’s hips against your ass echo among the walls of the small casting room, nearly drowning out the praise with how hard he’s fucking you. still, you smile, letting the suit-clad cameraman brush your hair from your face.

“where’d you learn how to take dick like this, huh?” toji teases, switching his grip from your face to your shoulders. your scene partner uses his newfound leverage to pull you back onto his cock, groaning at the new angle. 

“only like this with you,” you moan, clenching at the sounds of approval both men give you.

“what, you forget about me?” shiu asks, feigning jealousy for the sake of the scene.

toji leans forward, chest-to-back as he whispers something in your ear. hard, deep thrusts slow to a grind as he speaks to you. you nod, giggling at shiu’s pointed look of confusion.

“what’s wrong?” the cameraman mouths, moving to turn the camera off. you beckon him over to the couch instead, jolting from the pick-up of your scene partner’s thrusts.

the two men share a look as you readjust the camera, gauging the shot in the crystalline glint of the lens. perfect, you think. he was going to love this. 

deft hands make haste with his belt, undoing the buckle ever so slowly. the two of you lock eyes for just an instant as his face contorts into a grin, setting the camera on his shoulder to throw his belt off to the side. 

“oh i get love too now?” he teases, unbuttoning his bottoms and letting you get to work. his ironed suit jacket hits the floor, dress shirt half open. 

“you’ve fucked her before genius,” toji adds, slowing the pace of his thrusts to let you work on the cameraman. he was right, off and on camera even.

shiu’s hard, unbearably so when you free him from his boxers and take him into your mouth. you can practically feel how difficult it is for him to not blow his load right then and there, especially after watching you and toji go at it for half an hour with no stimulation of his own.

“hah fuck— she knows what i like, right?” the question is rhetorical, he wants you to take the bait. 

and take the bait you do, pulling off his dick just enough to swirl your tongue around his aching tip.

the noise you earn is more than pornographic, it’s downright sinful, egging you on as you move to take him to the base. 

“you seein’ this?” shiu gasps, panning the camera up to toji who has since stopped fucking you to watch. thick, deft fingers come up to rub at your clit instead, making up for the lost simulation. 

shiu’s free hand reaches down to nestle into your hair, pulling taught. a quick look to make sure the camera lines up is all he gives you before deft hips snap forward, fucking your throat with urgency.

the two men share a look briefly, chuckling as toji finally ramps up the pace again. thick, hot lengths penetrate you from either side, overloading your brain with pleasure. 

“look up at the lens for me baby,” shiu gushes, losing his grip on your hair to cradle your cheek in his palm. you push back on the cock currently pummeling your walls, eagerly groaning for the camera.

“aww there we go, always our favorite star.”

the praise goes right to your head, throat opening up to allow more of his length in. he hisses at the stimulation, grumbling a soft “fuck this,” before setting the camera down on the coffee table in front of the couch. 

“oh, that’s a good fucking shot,” toji comments, pleased at the new camera angle. the thought of the studio’s loyal fanbase getting to watch you get spit-roasted by the hottest business partners in the industry pushes you closer to the edge.

“fuck, there.” shiu groans, pulling himself from your throat with an obscene squelch. a whoop rings out from behind you, no doubt from toji as viscous ropes of cum paint your cheeks— you swear you hear them high-five each other.

“shit, sorry about the mess,” he doesn’t sound sorry at all, tapping the head on your closed lips with a fucked-out smile.

salty cum floods your tastebuds as you work to clean his manhood off, pulling back with an audible pop and a smile. “s’ okay shiu.”

“that’s talent right there,” the camera man comments, clearly pleased with your performance. shiu tucks himself back into his dress pants, quietly motioning for you and toji to switch positions.

the raven-haired man wastes no time lifting you into the air, thick hands situated under your thighs for support.

the position alone might have gotten you close enough to come had he still been inside you. you’re held against his standing body only by the hands under your legs, back-to-chest as you face the camera. 

you hike your legs up, locking eyes with shiu as you’re lowered onto toji’s dick a final time. 

the stretch is absolutely obscene, filling you to the brim over and over again as he thrusts into you.

“perfect, perfect guys,” shiu leans closer to get a better shot of your face. “just like that.”

“you wanna tell everybody at home where you want it?” toji asks, biting your shoulder for good measure.

“inside—please.” you sigh, laughing at the obscene groan that sounds from behind the camera. shiu reaches down to rub your swollen clit for you, pressing a kiss to your temple.

hot seed floods your body a second time, warming you from the inside out. the things toji pants into your ear are obscene, overwhelming your senses while shiu’s hand deals out tiny pats to your clit.

you both sink onto the couch for the final time, the soft leather cushions embracing your tired bodies. shiu approaches with the camera, flipping through a couple of scenes to seek your shared approval.

you sit quietly as you're wiped down with a wet towel, still attached to toji at your most intimate points.

“tired angel? need to wash off?” he asks, maneuvering you on his dick to straddle him.

“yes please,” you mumble happily, resting your head on his shoulder. two sets of hands gently caress your body, wiping the last drops of fluid from your sweaty skin.

“you’re gonna make us all millionaires, i swear,” shiu mumbles, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head before stepping into the bathroom to draw you a bath.

[hana-no-seiiki]

More dommy mommy reader!

this time, using some lines from makima’s jp cv’s asmr and devil wears prada scenes. pretty sure i wrote this scenario before but like a long time ago, and just in headcannons so.

YANDERE! BATFAM x DOMMY! MOMMY! READER

You do not think Bruce Wayne was completely aware of the logistics when it came to Galas. If he did he wouldn’t be holding so many of those damn things all the time.

“I’m so sorry, Miss [Y/N]! I really did confirm last night.”

“Tales of your incompetence do not interest me.”

But maybe you shouldn’t be blaming him, but the lack of tact, wit, or remarkable capability the entire staff had. Then again, it’s because you’re always around the Batfamily that your standards for competency were so high.

“Miss [Y/N]!” You heard someone call out to you.

The assistant behind you visibly tensed. Anyone with a brain on them knew not to bother you during work. Hell, any thing that could breathe knew not to approach you when you were swamped with work (which was usually all the time)

“Drake, let me go.”

“Damian. Stay.” Damian doesn’t even notice the condescending way his father reprimanded him, jealousy consumed him entirely. He only saw red.

“How can you be so calm about this? They’re practically smothering her!”

“There’s a reason why Miss [Y/N] was picked to be Alfred’s successor y’know. Beyond just family ties.” Dick caressed Damian’s hair. “She values professionalism above all. She’ll reject them right about now…”

“You . . . love me?” You parroted back. Your features do not budge an inch.

“Y-yes. I’ve been —“

You interrupt, frankly too busy to listen to their rambling, “Then pray.”

“Huh?”

“You love me right? Then pray that I love you. Beg if you have to.”

Despite their flustered almost angered reaction to your command, your admirer felt their knees turn into a soggy noodle like substance. Their heart practically leapt at the opportunity to obey you.

“Only God will make me consider.”

Not even a moment passed before you were back to your duties, the confession long gone from your thoughts, “Tell Timothy for the 48th time, no. I do not want those devices of him in my room, and if I find another one I’m promptly sending in my resignation. Has Bruce confirmed?”

“Uh- oh!” The intern snapped out of their daze, scribbling furiously on their notepad.

You finally stopped where the guys were at, a bit befuddled by the way they were staring holes at you. Damian practically had a mix of panic, relief and anger painted all over him. “Yes, how may I be of assistance to you, young master?”

“I- I’m fine.”

“Richard, make sure to confirm your attendance.” You glared at the eldest brother.

He saluted in response, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Busy day?” Jason inquired, an attempt at small talk if you will.

“Busy day.” You swiftly cut off his olive branch. After making sure none of the men needed your presence with a quick once over, you make a bow and left. Your voice, though soft could still be heard, “Do I smell freesias? If, I see, freesias anywhere I will be verrryyy disappointed —“

[kachowden]

Yandere Jock x Reader

You did not want to be here.

The seats were cold. Your butt hurt. It was loud. And the smell of sweaty feet and gym shorts was nothing short of a headache this early in the morning.

You knew you were being dramatic. Nobody liked gym class. Well. Nobody except maybe Loren. The campus “wonder boy”.

You guess you understood the hype. I mean the guy was a star player for your colleges team. Not to mention, insanely athletic, and good at about, well, just about anything. Except for y’know. His studies.

Which y’know gotta have that little cliche in their right? Who doesn’t love a big dumb jock huh?

And of course he was otherworldly pretty. Because obviously.

Okay maybe you were being a little hard on the guy. You didn’t hate him. Hell you hadn’t even talked to him!

A small part of you was willing to admit it might’ve been a slight case of jealousy

But only slight! The guy had everything practically handed to him and here you were busting your ass!

It sucked yknow? I mean what’s someone gotta do around here to get a helping hand-

“Hey! Watch out!-“

Suddenly the sound of rubber against skin boomed in your ears. A sudden shadow blocked your sight, and it took a moment for the sound of your own heart beat to settle, for you to realize what had just happened.

“Hey, you okay?”

The shadow moved, revealing a large hand, firmly grasping a stray volleyball. A volleyball that would’ve smacked you straight in the face because you were too busy monologuing to-

“Hello?”

Oh right

You hesitantly moved your eyes upwards, and nearly groaned out loud.

Wonder boy. Of course.

Time to embarrass yourself with your poor social skills!

“Oh shoot, hey, sorry-uhm..thanks for totally saving me back there! I mean, saving might be a stretch cuz the worse that could’ve happened might’ve been a bruise or on the very slim chance a concussion- but still I appreciate-“

“Pfft..”

Mother fucker did not just

Loren must’ve noticed your sudden change in mood, because he quickly coughed into his empty fist with a shy smile. His brown eyes were twinkling obnoxiously in your opinion, from the reflection of the faux lights.

“Sorry- sorry…I just uh…you’re kinda dorky”

This bitch.

A scowl quickly took residence on your face, a snarl being on the verge of pouring out.

“Right. Well I said thanks so, I think I’ll be on my way now. Thank you, again for the save. Or whatever.” The last part came out as more of a grumble than anything, and yeah you might’ve been a little petty for it, but come on who says that to someone you just met??

As if realizing his mistake, Loren’s grin fell agape, and with slow reaction time, unusual for someone like him, he moved to follow after you towards the door way.

“Hey wait no! I meant it in-“

The door closed with a thunderous slam.

“-a cute..way.”

“……”

A hand perched itself on Lorens broad shoulder.

“Hey man! Who you talkin to?”

A fellow player chirped at the brunette, who’s lips had settled into a troubled frown before he snapped his eyes towards the other player.

He didn’t know his name.

There was a brief moment where the player swore he was being glared at by the Star member, but it was gone so fast he figured it to be a trick of the artificial light.

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s get back to the group yeah?”

—————————————-

God what a long day

Loren sighed for what felt like the umpteenth time that hour, sweat pouring from his brow as he roamed the mostly barren halls.

It was fairly late in the evening.

There was the occasional straggler, most of who greeted him enthusiastically.

“Hey Loren! Can’t wait for the game this week!”

“Loren! You goin to the BMZ’s party tomorrow?”

He responded the way he normally would. Smiles, “hell yeahs”, and high fives. Though at this point he was just going through the motion. He didn’t really feel the need to show up to the parties. But he decided he’d wait to see how he felt by tomorrow.

Right now, he just wanted to get home and relax.

“Stupid- fucking professor! Couldnt wait till I- goddammit!”

Maybe home could wait a while longer

Loren peeked around the corner, and swore he almost did a backflip at the sight of you slouched against an empty classroom door.

Perfect.

“Hey!”

The moment your eyes drifted to his he swore he almost forgot how to breathe. You were way too cute.

But the frown on your kissable lips was disheartening to say the least.

“What do you want?”

Okay that hurt a little, but he kept his easy going grin as he strode to stand above you,

a visual he found…almost unnatural really.

It felt weird. Wrong, to be standing above you like that. But he disregarded the feeling for now. No matter how strong the desire to drop to his knees was.

“Need a hand?”

He heard you scoff

“Right..the professors gone so unless you have a key to the city than-“

Click!

He wanted to laugh at the stunned look on your pretty face. But that didn’t go well last time so he settled for a smile.

“…Ta-da!”

You looked less amused than he had hoped, with the way your head whipped back and forth before you carefully stepped in.

“Why the hell do you have a key that opens this classroom?”

“When you’re the “School Pride” you get a few extra privileges sometimes.”

You mumbled something at that, but he was unfortunately stood too far away to hear what you said clearly. He figured it was a jab at him. Not that he minded.

With quick, but still obviously cautious steps, you peddled on over to one of the front desks, where a lonely bag sat.

Quickly and nimbly you scooped it over your shoulder and made your way back to the brunette, who stood guard at the doors entrance. Almost dutifully.

Loren had to beg the universe that you didn’t hear his thundering heart and stuttering breath when you stopped directly infront of him.

Fuck you were so fucken cute up close what the fuck

“Thanks.”

“Huh?- Oh! Yeah of course anythingforyou”

.

.

.

.

“What?”

“What?”

“……”

You eyed him suspiciously for a moment, before seeming to sigh in resignation.

Moving out from the doorway, and away from him, you paused outside where you had previously had your little breakdown.

“Anyway. Thanks again. For the double save and stuff.” You almost looked pained saying that if he was being honest. But he’s take what he could get for now. “See you around. Or something.”

Wait what?

You were leaving again? Already? He barely even had time to stare at you!

I mean. Talk to you. And make up for embarrassing you earlier!

“Wait!”

You paused, almost irritatedly but seemed to ultimately decide to be civil and hear him out. Probably because you liked him now.

(No you were just tired.)

“How about you come to my game this week yeah? It’s on Thursday.”

.

.

“Why?”

“Because i want you to. And I wanna make up for this morning.”

Loren watched anxiously as you seemed to weigh your options.

“Please?”

Again, you sighed, before turning around and beginning to stalk off down the hall.

“I’ll think about it. I guess I owe you anyway.”

Nowaynowaynoway

Loren waited for you to turn the corner

“YES!”

He jumped up excitedly, “yes yes yes! Hell yeah!” clenching his fist with a enthusiastic grin, eyes practically shooting beams of excitement with how bright they were.

This was it. This was the beginning.

Fuck yeah! He was so pumped now!

You could consider this Thursday’s win dedicated to you.

———————-///—————

A/N: this ask/story was so fun to read and write about! I love getting asks so don’t worry about sending too many btw <3 thank you so much! Perhaps we’ll see more of Loren in the future? Hope you like my take <3

[nejiverse]

PART-TIME BABYSITTER

Rin Itoshi + Sae Itoshi

In which Rin takes care of your daughter while you and Sae are on holiday. Tiktok inspired me (what’s new) Fem! Reader

cw: established relationship with sae, kids

460 words

"Come collect your child".

Y/n stifled a laugh as Rin's face remained unchanged. The stress was evident in his facial expressions that it made Y/n curious as to how a one-year old could affect him so much.

"What happened?", at your question, Rin shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. He had a whole list but he planned on saving it when you and Sae get back. Right now he’d only bother you with one thing.

"She keeps on crying and I have no clue what she wants cause I can't understand what she’s saying”.

Sae scoffed in the background. “My daughter has perfect speech, you’re just stupid”.

You gently scolded Sae for getting on Rin’s nerves even more before giving the boy your full undivided attention.

Before Rin could even say another word, a small chubby hand came up over the camera. Evidently, your daughter stole Rin’s phone from him.

“Mama!”, she cried out.

Her sniffles made your heart ache that you aren’t there to coddle her so instead you cooed at her, telling her you’d be back real soon.

Sae surprised you with a holiday to Spain which you’ve been begging him to take you on and you two were currently on your last days there. You insisted bringing d/n along but he only wanted it to be the two of you (he’s not admitting to his obvious jealousy).

Ever since you delivered, Sae hasn’t gotten the chance to spend quality time with you, and that was very unfair in his opinion.

“You could’ve asked first”, Rin huffed, he wasn’t a fan of you an Sae’s brat (his words not mine) pawing at his phone with her grubby hands.

“What’s wrong baby?”, you cooed.

“Scoochy!”, she babbled.

You blame Sae for this.

Whenever he sees you eating something without him, he tells you to scooch over, with full intent of stuffing his face with your food, or as he calls it “our food”.

“Are you eating something, Rin?”, you asked.

“Yeah why?”,

“She wants some of it, that’s what she’s saying—”.

“No way. I just fed her”, Rin grabbed his phone back, causing d/n to jut her bottom lips out. “I swear she’s got a black hole for a stomach”.

Sae let out something that was a mix between a huff and a laugh. “Yeah, like her mother”.

Meanwhile, d/n was busy chowing down on some of Rin’s chips. Said man let out a dramatic gasp before quickly dismissing the situation. He no longer wanted them.

“Y’know what? Have them. They’re yours”, Rin pushed the small box closer to her. “Early birthday present, happy birthday”.

You blinked once, twice, before cocking your head to the side. “Her birthday is 10 months away..”.

“That’s what makes it early”.

…

masterlist :)

a/n: yall google scoochie on urban dictionary 💀 there’s a word for everything I swear

[wolvietxt]

𝓒HAPTER 𝓕OUR !

series masterlist     taglist form  pairing : logan howlett x reader warnings : jealousy, mentions of food + cooking together, fluff, slightly suggestive, light angst, fluff, happy ending  wc : 4.6k a/n : this is a weird little chapter, the storyline isn’t really clicking in my head anymore, so enjoy this last chapter which is just little snapshots into their relationship😖

logan hadn’t left your side all day.  

it wasn’t subtle - not the way his hand found the small of your back when you passed in the hallway, or how his rough voice softened whenever he addressed you. he’d been like this since last night, a quiet intensity in his actions that you couldn’t quite name but felt deeply. it was comforting and overwhelming all at once.  

you sat together on the couch in one of the x-mansion’s quieter lounges, where the fire crackled in the hearth, painting the room in a warm amber glow. no one else lingered nearby, the hour late enough that the mansion had mostly gone still. logan had been uncharacteristically patient as you sifted through a book - not actually reading, just needing something to occupy your hands. his arm rested along the back of the couch, close but not quite touching you.  

"you’re awfully quiet tonight, sweetheart," he finally said, his voice a low rumble that broke the silence.  

the endearment caught you off guard - not because he hadn’t used it before, but because it was still so new, still carried so much weight. your chest tightened, though not unpleasantly, and you glanced up at him, his sharp gaze already on you.  

"just tired," you murmured. it wasn’t untrue, but it wasn’t everything either.  

logan shifted closer, the couch dipping under his weight. his hand reached out, rough fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. "you thinkin’ too much again?" he asked, his tone edged with gruff concern.  

you smiled faintly, unable to help it. "i guess so."  

his brows furrowed, his thumb trailing briefly along your cheekbone. "listen," he began, hesitating for a moment before continuing, "i know i ain’t been... easy. but i mean it when i say i’m tryin’, darlin’."  

your heart ached at the raw honesty in his voice. logan didn’t apologize often - he wasn’t wired that way - but this wasn’t about the words. it was about the way he looked at you now, the vulnerability hidden beneath his tough exterior.  

"i know you are," you said softly.  

he exhaled, shoulders relaxing as if your acknowledgment eased something deep inside him. "good. ‘cause you mean too damn much to me to screw this up."  

your breath hitched, the weight of his admission settling over you. it wasn’t poetic or perfect, but it was logan - real, unfiltered, and entirely sincere.  

unable to find the right words, you leaned into him instead, your head resting against his shoulder. his arm came around you instantly, pulling you closer, his hold firm but gentle.  

"you’re not screwing anything up," you said after a moment, your voice muffled against his shirt.  

logan chuckled, the sound low and warm. "guess we’ll see ‘bout that."  

he didn’t let you move far from him after that. his hand stayed firm against your side, as if anchoring you, while his other came up to rest on your knee. it wasn’t possessive - just solid, grounding. you wondered if he even realized how much he did that, how his instinct was always to make you feel safe.  

the firelight flickered in his eyes, softening the usual sharpness there. he shifted slightly, angling himself to see you better. "yer too hard on yourself, y’know," he muttered, the words almost grumbled, like they were difficult for him to admit.  

you blinked at him, confused. "what do you mean?"  

"i mean you’re sittin’ here, lookin’ like you got the weight of the damn world on your shoulders," he said, his thumb absently brushing a slow circle against your knee. "you don’t gotta carry everything by yourself, darlin’. not when i’m right here."  

the quiet conviction in his voice undid something in you. logan had always been the kind of person to fix things with his hands, to fight or protect or mend in ways that didn’t rely on words. but tonight, he was saying exactly what you needed to hear.  

you didn’t realize you were crying until his fingers caught a stray tear on your cheek.  

"hey," he said softly, leaning closer. "what’s all this for?"  

you shook your head, a watery laugh escaping despite yourself. "i don’t know," you admitted, wiping at your face with a shaky hand. "just... everything, i guess."  

"aw, c’mere," he murmured, pulling you fully into his lap without hesitation.  

you didn’t resist, letting him wrap his arms around you completely. he tucked your head under his chin, his hands running soothingly up and down your back.  

"you’re somethin’ else, sweetheart," he said quietly, his breath warm against your hair. "don’t know how you put up with me."  

"you’re not as bad as you think," you whispered, your fingers curling into his shirt.  

logan huffed a laugh, low and rough, and you felt it vibrate through his chest. you stayed like that for a while, the room quiet except for the crackle of the fire and the steady rhythm of his breathing.  

when you finally pulled back to look at him, his hand came up to cradle your face again, his thumb brushing over your cheek. his expression was softer than you’d ever seen it, an openness there that made your heart ache in the best way.  

"you okay now?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.  

you nodded, leaning into his touch. "yeah. thanks to you."  

logan’s lips quirked into a small, crooked smile. "good."  

he kissed your forehead then, slow and deliberate, as if sealing the moment between you.  

"c’mon," he said after a beat, his arms still loosely around you. "let’s get some sleep. i’ll stick close, just in case you start overthinkin’ again."  

you laughed softly, letting him guide you to your feet. "you sure you’re not just making excuses to stay near me?"  

logan raised a brow, smirking. "damn right i am."  

and for the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself believe that things could really be this good.  

logan’s hand lingered on yours longer than it should’ve when you passed him a cup of coffee the next morning. it was a small gesture, fleeting, but it sent a warmth through you that had nothing to do with the steaming drink. his touch was rough, calloused, yet careful, as if he was afraid of pushing too hard.  

“thanks,” he mumbled, his voice gravelly from sleep.  

“don’t mention it,” you replied, flashing him a soft smile. you weren’t used to mornings like this - quiet and unhurried, where logan wasn’t already halfway out the door or brooding in some corner.  

he sat across from you at the table, his gaze flickering between the mug and the window. the sunlight caught on the silver streaks in his hair, softening his usual sharpness. you didn’t say much; you didn’t need to.  

the silence between you had shifted - no longer heavy with unspoken tensions but something... lighter. 

you found yourselves alone in the training room later that day, an accidental coincidence, or maybe not.  

“you’re getting sloppy,” logan said, his tone gruff but without the usual edge.  

you rolled your eyes, leaning on the padded wall to catch your breath. “says the guy who hasn’t sparred me in weeks.”  

he smirked, stepping closer, his shadow falling over you. “you sure you’re ready for me?”  

“always.”  

the first hit came quick, but you dodged it, twisting away with a grin. sparring with logan wasn’t just training; it was a dance, a test of wit as much as skill. and for the first time, it felt like you were evenly matched - not just in the ring but in how you read each other.  

he pulled his punches just enough, and you met his strikes with the same restraint. when he caught you around the waist, pinning you down to the mat, his breath warm against your ear, you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you.  

“what’s so funny?” he asked, though there was a glint of amusement in his eyes.  

“you’re holding back,” you teased, still trapped beneath him.  

“don’t get used to it, baby,” he shot back, the nickname slipping out like second nature. his eyes widened slightly, as if realizing what he’d said, but he didn’t take it back.  

instead, he released you and stood, offering you a hand up. when you took it, his grip was firm but not rough, steadying you as if he wanted to make sure you wouldn’t fall.  

“same time tomorrow?” you asked, trying to ignore the way your heart was racing.  

he nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “yeah.”  

that night, you found him in the library, a glass of whiskey in his hand and an old book on the table in front of him. he didn’t look up when you entered, but you could feel the shift in the air, the way his shoulders relaxed ever so slightly.  

“mind if i join you?”  

he shrugged, gesturing to the seat across from him. “free country.”  

you sat down, pulling a book off the nearest shelf more for show than anything else.  

“you always this friendly after sparring?” you asked after a moment, your voice light.  

logan chuckled, low and rough. “depends on the company.”  

you raised an eyebrow. “so i’m good company now?”  

he didn’t answer, but the faint smirk on his face said enough.  

for the next hour, you sat in companionable silence, the crackle of the fire the only sound. every now and then, you’d glance up to find him watching you, his expression unreadable but softer than usual.  

when you finally got up to leave, he spoke, his voice quieter than you’d ever heard it. “sleep well, darlin’.”  

it wasn’t much, but it was enough to send you to bed with a warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with the fire.  

days turned into weeks, and the fragile bond between you grew stronger with each passing moment. logan wasn’t one for grand gestures, but he didn’t need to be. it was in the little things - the way he’d save you the last cup of coffee in the morning or how he’d linger just a second longer when your hands brushed.  

he still had his rough edges, still growled and grumbled more often than not, but there was a softness beneath it all, a quiet care that he didn’t try to hide anymore.  

and you? you found yourself falling into a rhythm with him, a push and pull that felt as natural as breathing.  

one evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, you found yourselves on the porch, the world bathed in golden light.  

“you ever think about just... getting away?” logan asked, his voice thoughtful.  

you looked at him, surprised. “getting away from what?”  

“all of it,” he said, gesturing vaguely. “the missions, the danger, the... noise.”  

you considered his words, your gaze drifting to the horizon. “sometimes,” you admitted. “but i don’t think i’d ever stop looking over my shoulder.”  

“yeah,” he muttered, his jaw tightening. “me neither.”  

you placed a hand on his arm, your touch light but grounding. “but we’re not alone, logan. we’ve got each other, right?”  

he looked at you then, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find the truth in your words. after a moment, he nodded, his hand covering yours.  

“yeah,” he said quietly. “we do.”  

and for the first time, it felt like maybe, just maybe, the both of you were exactly where you were meant to be.  

logan’s lips crushed against yours the moment you closed the door to his room. it wasn’t the first time you’d stolen a few moments together like this, but tonight felt different - more urgent, more consuming. his hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him, the heat of his body searing through the thin fabric of your shirt.  

“you’ve been drivin’ me crazy all day, darlin’,” he muttered against your mouth, his voice low and rough. the words sent a shiver down your spine, and you tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer.  

“yeah?” you teased, breathless. “what’re you gonna do about it?”  

logan didn’t answer with words. instead, he backed you up against the wall, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a heated path in their wake. your head tilted back, a soft gasp escaping you as his teeth grazed your skin.  

“keep quiet,” he murmured, his voice barely above a growl. “walls ain’t exactly soundproof.”  

you bit your lip, trying to stifle a laugh, but it quickly turned into a quiet moan when his hands slid under your shirt, his touch rough but careful. he kissed you again, deeper this time, and you could feel the tension in his body, the restraint he was barely holding onto.  

you were just about to lose yourself completely when the doorknob rattled.  

“logan? you in there?”  

both of you froze, your heart leaping into your throat. scott’s voice was unmistakable, and it was far too close for comfort.  

logan pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours as he muttered a string of curses under his breath.  

“stay quiet,” he mouthed, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of annoyance and amusement.  

“logan, we’ve got a situation downstairs,” scott continued, his tone impatient.  

“yeah, yeah,” logan called back, his voice gruff. “gimme a minute.”  

you clamped a hand over your mouth to stifle a laugh, and logan shot you a warning look that was entirely undermined by the faint smirk tugging at his lips.  

“you’d better not be doing anything stupid,” scott added, his footsteps retreating down the hall.  

as soon as the sound of his boots faded, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, your shoulders shaking with silent laughter.  

logan shook his head, a grin breaking through his usual scowl. “you think this is funny?”  

“a little,” you admitted, though your cheeks burned with embarrassment.  

he leaned in again, his lips brushing against yours in a way that made your knees weak. “then maybe you need a reminder to keep that mouth of yours quiet next time.”  

your laugh dissolved into another kiss, and this time, neither of you cared about the risk of getting caught.  

you were laughing, leaning on the kitchen counter as bobby attempted some ridiculous story about his latest stunt with his ice powers. the way you lit up the room - head tilted back, eyes crinkled with amusement - was magnetic. you always had that effect, drawing people in like moths to a flame.

logan had walked in moments earlier, unnoticed, and the sight of you surrounded by laughter hit him like a sucker punch. it wasn’t your laughter, though. it was bobby’s face - bright, playful, maybe a little too damn charmed by you - that set his teeth on edge.

“funny guy, huh?” logan’s gruff voice cut through the chatter, his presence suddenly filling the room. the atmosphere shifted immediately. you glanced up at him, smiling instinctively, but his expression was unreadable.

“logan,” you greeted warmly, though there was a flicker of confusion in your eyes. “what’s up?”

“just passin’ through,” he muttered, arms crossing over his chest as he leaned against the doorframe. his gaze flicked between you and bobby before landing firmly on the latter. “don’t let me interrupt.”

bobby blinked, glancing at you and then back at logan. “uh, no, you’re good. i was just telling her about the - ”

“yeah, i heard,” logan cut him off, voice flat. “guess you’ve got a knack for stories.”

you frowned, catching the sharp edge in logan’s tone. “bobby was just being funny,” you said lightly, trying to defuse whatever this was. “it’s nothing serious.”

logan’s jaw tightened, his eyes flickering to yours. “sure doesn’t look like nothin’,” he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for you to catch.

bobby, either oblivious or too nervous to address the tension, quickly excused himself. “uh, i’ve gotta go... do, uh, something. catch you later!” he darted out, leaving you and logan alone in the now-silent kitchen.

“what the hell was that?” you asked, crossing your arms as you turned to face him.

logan shrugged, nonchalant. “what was what?”

“don’t play dumb,” you said, your voice tinged with exasperation. “you were acting... weird.”

he scoffed, pushing off the doorframe. “wasn’t actin’ any kinda way.”

“logan.” you stepped closer, searching his face. “if you’ve got something to say, just say it.”

he avoided your gaze, tension radiating off him. “don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

you sighed, frustration bubbling up. “why are you acting jealous?”

his head snapped toward you, eyes narrowing. “jealous? me? of that kid?”

“yes, you,” you said, throwing your hands up. “you don’t need to be. bobby’s just... bobby. he’s a friend.”

logan’s expression darkened, his voice low. “didn’t look like ‘just a friend’ from where i was standin’.”

you stared at him, incredulous. “are you serious right now? bobby and i were literally just talking.”

“yeah, well, maybe i don’t like the way he looks at you,” logan snapped, his voice rougher than he intended. the words hung in the air, heavy and unspoken for a beat too long.

you softened slightly, stepping closer. “logan,” you said, gentler now. “you don’t have to worry about anyone else. it’s you. it’s always been you.”

his jaw worked, his defenses still up, but your words seemed to chip away at the wall he’d thrown up. he didn’t respond, but his posture shifted, less rigid now.

“can we just... not do this?” you asked, placing a hand on his arm. “please?”

logan sighed, the tension finally easing from his shoulders. “yeah,” he muttered, his voice quieter. “sorry. didn’t mean to...”

“it’s okay,” you interrupted softly. “just... trust me, okay?”

his gaze met yours, a flicker of something raw and unspoken in his eyes. he gave a small nod, the smallest crack in his usual gruff exterior. “i’ll try.”

logan was quieter than usual after the kitchen incident. it wasn’t like him to sulk - if anything, he preferred to keep himself busy when something was on his mind - but today, he lingered. even as you moved through your routine, you could feel his eyes following you, his presence hovering like a storm cloud.

when you finally had enough, you found him in the gym, pretending to focus on some heavy bag that had long since given up under his relentless punches.

“logan,” you called, stepping into the room.

he paused mid-swing, turning toward you. his brows were drawn low, jaw set tight, but the flicker of hesitation in his eyes softened the edges of his scowl.

“what?” he asked, the single word gruff but not unkind.

you crossed your arms, leaning against the doorframe. “are you gonna talk to me about what happened earlier? or are we just gonna keep pretending everything’s fine?”

he scoffed, wiping his hands on a towel slung over his shoulder. “don’t know what there is to talk about.”

“really?” you raised a brow. “because it seems like you got upset over nothing and haven’t let it go since.”

he muttered something under his breath and turned back to the bag, but you weren’t about to let him escape this time. you marched forward, planting yourself in front of him, forcing him to look at you.

“logan, talk to me,” you insisted, your tone firm but not unkind.

his eyes flicked to yours, reluctant but unable to resist the pull of your sincerity. he took a step back, running a hand through his hair. “it’s nothin’, alright? just... don’t like the way people look at you sometimes.”

you blinked, caught off guard by the quiet admission. “logan... you know you don’t have to worry about that, right? no one else matters to me.”

“yeah, I know,” he said, his voice low. “it’s just... hard to turn that part of me off, y’know? seein’ someone else lookin’ at you like... like they could just take you away -”

“no one’s taking me away,” you interrupted, stepping closer. “not bobby, not anyone. i’m here. with you. always.”

his gaze dropped, the tension in his shoulders finally starting to ease. “you say that now, but... things change. people change.”

“not me,” you said firmly, reaching out to take his hand. his calloused fingers curled instinctively around yours, the contact grounding him in a way nothing else could. “i don’t care how many people look at me or talk to me. none of them matter the way you do.”

he let out a heavy sigh, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “you’re too damn good for me, y’know that?”

“don’t start with that,” you said, squeezing his hand. “i’m here because i want to be. because i care about you. and you’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

a small, wry smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and for the first time all day, the storm in his eyes began to clear. “guess i’ll just have to keep you then.”

“damn right you will,” you said, grinning.

he chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that made your heart ache in the best way. his free hand came up to cup your cheek, his touch gentle despite the strength behind it. “you’re somethin’ else, y’know that?”

“yeah, i’ve heard,” you teased, leaning into his hand.

his smile softened, and before you could say anything else, he leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, full of all the things he couldn’t put into words. it wasn’t rushed or heated, but it left you breathless all the same, your hands finding their way to his chest as his fingers threaded through your hair.

the kiss deepened, his arm slipping around your waist to pull you closer, and for a moment, everything else fell away. no jealousy, no doubts, no outside world - just the two of you, tangled in each other.

you broke away only when the need for air became too much, your forehead resting against his as you tried to steady your breathing.

“feel better now?” you asked, a little breathless.

“maybe,” he muttered, but the small smirk on his lips told you all you needed to know.

the kitchen was bathed in the warm glow of evening light, the scent of garlic and herbs mingling with the rich tang of tomato sauce. you stood at the stove, focused on stirring, the rhythmic motion soothing as you lost yourself in the process. the soft hum of a song you’d been playing earlier still lingered in the air, blending with the faint sounds of the mansion outside. it was a rare moment of quiet, just you and logan, finding comfort in the simplicity of cooking together.

“you’re gonna burn dinner if you keep staring at me like that,” logan’s voice came, deep and teasing, from behind. the heat in your cheeks had nothing to do with the stove, but you couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at your lips.

you didn’t turn around immediately, taking a moment to savor the way he always seemed to make your pulse quicken without even trying. when you finally met his gaze, the corners of his mouth were curled up in that smirk you’d come to know so well. he leaned against the doorframe, arms folded over his chest, eyes glinting with amusement.

“maybe i just want you to distract me,” you teased, tilting your head and letting the words hang between you. you felt a rush of exhilaration at the way his eyes darkened, the smirk giving way to something deeper, more intent.

“oh, i can do that,” he said, pushing off the doorframe and closing the space between you in a few long strides. his hands found your waist, strong and secure, pulling you close enough that the air between you was charged. his fingers splayed over the fabric of your shirt, and the touch sent a shiver up your spine.

“i can’t reach you if you’re too high up,” he muttered, eyes glancing down at the counter, then back up to yours. before you could react, he lifted you effortlessly, setting you on the edge of the countertop. the sound of a spoon clattering to the floor barely registered as you let out a startled laugh, the warmth of his body pressing into yours.

the soft hum of the sauce simmering behind you was forgotten as logan leaned in, brushing his lips over yours in a kiss that was warm, tender, and almost unbearably slow. your heart stuttered, a sharp jolt of longing coursing through you. the heat between you seemed to seep into your skin, filling every space with the kind of comfort you didn’t know you craved until now.

“log - ” you started, but the word dissolved into a soft breath as he deepened the kiss, the rough edge of his stubble scraping gently against your skin. the kiss was unhurried, as if he were trying to savor every second, every touch, before the world outside could pull you away.

“damn it, we’re gonna set off the smoke detector,” you managed to say when he pulled back just enough to look at you, his chest heaving slightly. the smoke detector was already starting its impatient chirp, but he just chuckled, pressing a tender kiss to your temple.

“let’s forget about it for a while,” he whispered, and you knew he wasn’t just talking about the smoke.

but reality had a way of reminding you of its presence. the faint, acrid smell of burning garlic reached your nose, and a flash of smoke curled into the air. the sauce, left unattended, had turned from a rich, warm red to a deep, unappetizing black. you gasped, scrambling to reach the pot and turn the burner off, but logan’s hands were at your hips, holding you steady.

“log, the sauce - ” you said, half-laughing, half-panicked as you glanced at the mess.

“who needs it?” he replied, voice low, eyes full of mischief. he dropped a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth, then another, and you let out a laugh that felt free and light. the room filled with the sound of the smoke detector blaring, but it was drowned out by the rush of warmth between you two.

“you’re impossible,” you said, but the words carried no real heat. there was no room for anger or frustration when he looked at you like that, eyes full of fondness and a quiet intensity that only he could muster.

“and you love it,” he said, a playful challenge in his voice.

you sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your forehead to his. the noise of the world outside the kitchen seemed to fade into the background as you let yourself sink into this moment. the soft warmth of his breath mingled with yours, a simple comfort that filled the space between your ribs. he brushed a strand of hair away from your face, the touch gentle enough to make your chest ache.

“yeah,” you whispered, a smile tugging at your lips. “i do.”

he pulled back just enough to look at you, a glint of something unreadable in his eyes. “good. ‘cause i’m not planning on going anywhere.”

the smoke detector was still blaring, but now it felt like a distant noise, a reminder of the chaos that had been and the peace that was now.

“well, we might need to deal with that,” you said, glancing at the beeping alarm.

“after dinner,” he said, leaning in again, his voice deep and inviting. “we’ve got time.”

you nodded, closing your eyes as he pressed his lips to yours, the world around you fading away until it was just the two of you, a promise, and a kitchen full of forgotten dishes and warm, tender moments.

🌀 logan howlett : @notacleangirl, @v3lv3tf0x, @dugiioh, @whxtewolf, @rooroen

@lemoanaid, @correnz, @coocoocachewgotscrewed, @ohmystvrk, @y08h

@lovely-liliacs, @california-boys-and-sun, @omen-keke, @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts, @seasonofthenerd

@superlegend216, @mikaaki, @withasideofmeg, @samfunko, @aaronhotchnerlover

@qxuanii, @m1cky-y-y, @uncertified-doc, @cryingwta, @pvndomi

@marvelescvpe, @flamin-hot-cheetos, @misscrissfemmefatale, @ltristessedureratoujours, @meadow-field

@hazydespair, @stupid-little-birdie, @aoi_targaryen, @urlocallocachica, @person-005

@christinamadsen, @zaggprincess2, @lokixryss

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

[ryuzakistoe]

Her (Chigiri Hyoma x fem!reader)

fluff, angst, angst with happy ending, school au, fem!reader, swearing, jealousy-ish, mentions of his torn ACL, arguing

a/n: y’know what, i might do sae next bc i love him so much

(couldn't really find anything that matched perfectly but that's okay ig)

——

He was the definition of beauty, and everyone at school knew it. His glamorous reddish-pink hair framed his face perfectly, each silky strand falling just between his eyes, enhancing his striking features. Those eyes—an enchanting shade of deep pink—were captivating, complementing his overall allure.

He had the look of a model, with a presence that was nothing short of glamorous. Yet, he chose to dedicate his life to football. His striking appearance wasn’t just for show, though; his physical abilities had a purpose.

With remarkable speed, he was virtually unmatched on the field, moving with a swiftness others could only envy or fear. His speed was remarkable, setting him apart in every game, leaving his opponents in awe—or jealousy.

His extraordinary talent allowed him to score countless goals, making him the star of his team. Soccer was his life—his passion, his purpose—and he poured himself into it fully. Nothing else mattered, and he believed nothing ever would.

That is, until the day he met the new girl.

The moment she walked into his classroom, his world shifted. Her graceful entrance, her hair flowing gently beside her, radiated an effortless beauty. But that wasn’t all that captivated him.

As the morning sunlight bathed her in a warm glow, he couldn't help but notice her smooth, delicate skin and the quiet power of her small smile. His eyes widened as he took in her presence. When her beautifully colored eyes finally roamed across the room and landed on him, he felt a spark he’d never experienced before. Soccer was no longer the only thing that mesmerized him.

His breath caught quietly as his gaze locked with hers. To him, it felt like a blessing—an unspoken gift to have someone so beautiful meet his eyes and hold them. He couldn’t look away, as though she were a magnet drawing him in.

But he wondered: why wasn’t she looking away first? They’d been holding eye contact for what felt like an eternity.

The truth was, she found him just as captivating. She had never seen such beauty. His bright hair seemed to radiate, like a flower irresistibly drawing a butterfly. And his eyes…she couldn’t begin to describe them. They were a stunning shade of pink, like nothing she’d ever seen before.

She could have lingered on every fascinating detail about the boy, but the teacher’s voice snapped her out of her trance.

"Hello? Ms. L/n? Would you like to introduce yourself?"

She shook her head, clearing her thoughts, and offered a shy chuckle. “Yes, I’d love to. Sorry about that.”

The teacher gave a firm nod, indicating for her to begin.

"Hello, everyone. My name is Y/n L/n, and I'll be your new classmate from now on. I hope I get to become good friends with all of you.” She smiled warmly.

That smile…he still didn’t know why it affected him so deeply. But as he glanced around, he felt a flare of annoyance—he wasn’t the only one captivated by her. Others in the room seemed just as taken, drawn to her beauty like moths to a flame.

But he didn’t want them looking at her. She was meant for his eyes only.

But he knew it was almost impossible. That lingering eye contact they shared could easily mean nothing. For all he knew, her gaze might be set on someone else.

It was the first time he’d ever doubted himself. The thought of having a chance with her felt unrealistic. Even with his reputation and titles, his odds seemed to go from nonexistent to barely slim.

What good was such a tiny chance, anyway? It would take a miracle for her to feel the same. But he knew the difference between dreams and reality.

This was just a dream—a dream he wished, more than anything, could come true.

…🌼…

He let out yet another satisfied sigh as the ball brushed the net. Scoring a few goals, he thought, might be the best way to clear his mind, to shake off the image of that beautiful girl wasting her time with some average guy. The thought nagged at him enough that he’d come out here alone, hoping the rhythm of the game would numb it.

Unbeknownst to him, the very girl he was trying to forget was seated on the bleachers, watching him with a gentle smile. As he kicked the ball into the goal again, a sudden applause echoed from the stands.

He turned, and there she was—his mind’s distraction, clapping for him. His ears flushed red, realizing she might have been watching the whole time. Embarrassment mixed with something warm and unexpectedly sweet as he caught sight of her wide grin.

Had she been watching the whole time…?

He stood there, frozen for a moment, before grabbing the ball and moving to the far side of the field, trying his best to ignore her presence. But it was impossible. Knowing she was there, watching him, sent a surge of excitement through him.

Out of all places, she chose to be here. What a surprise.

Each time he tried to shoot, his footing faltered, his nerves fraying under her gaze. No matter how hard he tried to focus on the ball, his mind kept drifting back to her. How could she have this effect on him?

Finally, as he decided to pack up and leave, her image lingering in his thoughts, he didn’t notice the quick footsteps closing in behind him.

"Hey."

Startled by her soft voice, he spun around, eyes widening as he took her in.

And there she was—standing right in front of him, delicate and breathtaking. His mouth parted slightly as he absorbed the sight of her up close. Those beautiful eyes met his, and he felt his heart begin to race.

He couldn’t help but trace his gaze over her features, taking in her soft, gentle eyes, her plush, velvety lips, and the way her silky, flowing hair framed her face. Every inch of her seemed to radiate beauty, as if she were something out of a dream—perfect, unreal, ethereal.

He wasn’t the only one captivated. She couldn’t tear her gaze from him either, caught in the same quiet, electric moment.

She found him just as unreal, just as stunning, with every feature and trait as mesmerizing to her as hers were to him.

After a moment, she broke the silence. "Hey, nice shooting back there," she said, a bit awkwardly.

She continued, "My name’s Y/n L/n, by the way—in case you don’t remember. We’re in the same class–"

"Of course, I remember," he blurted out, interrupting her without thinking.

She paused, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Well, that makes things easier, doesn’t it?"

"But I still don’t know your name," she added, her voice gentle.

Realizing he hadn’t introduced himself, he felt a sudden rush of embarrassment. "Chigiri Hyoma," he replied quickly.

"Chigiri Hyoma, hm?.” she echoed, a warm smile spreading as she tried his name out, savoring it like it held a secret just for her. “I'll remember that.” she continued.

Chigiri felt warmth flood through him at the sound of his name on her lips. It made him feel a mix of nervous excitement and an undeniable happiness. He loved the way she said his name—so much, in fact, that he could listen to her say it a hundred times… no, ten thousand times.

But his thoughts scattered as he noticed her turning to walk away. A pang of disappointment settled in his chest; he wanted to keep talking, to hear her voice just a little longer. He’d do anything to make her stay, even for one more second.

“I’ll see you later, Hyoma! I hope we can become friends!” she called over her shoulder, turning back to flash him a smile.

His eyes widened slightly at her words. The thought of her wanting to come back, wanting to be friends, sent warmth spreading across his skin. It was more than he’d hoped for.

She really wanted to be friends with him? He wouldn’t let this chance slip by.

He’d do anything to get closer to her—maybe even as more than friends someday. But all he knew was that he wanted to be by her side for as long as he could.

…🌼…

Meeting at the football field became their routine, something they both cherished. They would talk about their passions, their dreams, or simply whatever crossed their minds, and each day felt like paradise for the boy. He looked forward to their time together, and she felt the same way. Their presence brought each other comfort, a kind of peace neither had known before.

As their connection deepened, so did their unspoken feelings. They left subtle hints, shared shy smiles, and even had a few intimate, awkward moments. But neither dared to confess their true feelings, each afraid of rejection. Chigiri, especially, doubted he was worthy of her; he convinced himself her heart was set on someone else.

Y/n convinced herself that all he wanted was friendship—nothing more. Doubts and excuses piled up in their minds, each of them pushing aside their "what ifs" to avoid risking the perfect friendship they had. They tried to convince themselves that this connection was fine just the way it was, even as they secretly longed for something deeper.

They told themselves this was fate. But, one way or another, the fate they believed in would take an unexpected turn.

…

"Go, Chigiri!"

Cheers erupted from the bleachers as Chigiri gained possession of the ball. His team was in the lead, and the opposing side was struggling to catch up. The moment the ball touched his foot, the crowd roared with anticipation—they knew he would score. No one ever doubted his speed.

As expected, Chigiri sprinted down the field, closing in on the goal with effortless precision. The noise from the stands swelled as he prepared to shoot, seconds away from sealing the game. This would be the winning goal, and he was the one to bring them victory. With each swift movement, he dodged every opponent who tried to block his path, his speed unmatched and unstoppable.

His eyes shone with determination as the goal opened up before him. But just as he charged forward, he suddenly collapsed. The crowd's roar faded into silence as they watched, stunned, as the player everyone thought would be the hero now lay on the ground, muffling pained cries.

Chigiri's strained grunts were the only sounds echoing across the field, while everyone else stood in shocked silence, absorbing what had just happened. After what felt like an eternity, a few people rushed onto the field to help him.

Y/n’s eyes remained wide, unmoving, as she stood frozen in the crowd. Her mouth hung open, unable to fully process the scene. She had only seen him suddenly fall, as if his own body had betrayed him.

It took her a moment to fully register what had happened, but before she could shake off her shock, her eyes met Chigiri’s. He was being carried off the field, his face tight with pain as they rushed him to get emergency aid.

In that brief, shared eye contact, Chigiri felt a wave of embarrassment and defeat wash over him. Shame gnawed at him, knowing she had seen it all—the near victory, the fall, the failure. He quickly looked away, unable to bear the sudden rush of emotions her gaze stirred in him.

But it was too late. She had already glimpsed everything in his eyes: the hurt, the frustration, the vulnerability. She couldn’t help feeling a pang of pity, yet this was the last thing Chigiri would ever want—from her or anyone else.

…🌼…

He sat on the hospital bed, staring blankly ahead, contemplating his life. Just hours earlier, the doctor had told him to take it easy—his ACL was torn. If he injured it again, his soccer career would be over; he’d never play again.

Fear overcame him. The thought of losing soccer gnawed at him—without it, he didn’t know who he’d be. Soccer was his entire life, his only focus. The whirlwind of thoughts consumed him, until he was pulled back by a knock at the door.

“Chigiri? It’s me… can I come in?”

He didn’t respond. He didn’t want to see her—not after she had witnessed his collapse. How could he face her now? He couldn’t bear to see pity in her eyes.

He didn’t want her to see him like this—weak, defeated. Would she look down on him now?

“Chigiri…?” Her voice was gentle, hesitant.

He paused, wrestling with himself before he finally replied, “I… I want to be alone right now.”

Guilt pricked him as he said it, but he couldn’t face the expression she might have, full of pity or regret. That was the last thing he wanted to see.

“Oh… alright. I understand. I’ll be on my way then.”

The sadness in her voice only made the guilt grow sharper. He wanted her there more than anything, but he knew he wasn’t ready. As he heard her footsteps fade, he let out a sigh he hadn’t realized he was holding.

He leaned his head against the hospital bed’s headboard, closing his eyes. How could he possibly face her?

More than anything, he wanted her to come in, to meet her gaze, those beautiful eyes he’d come to realize he loved. But he wasn’t ready to see the look that might come with it—pity, concern, maybe even disappointment.

He groaned softly, rubbing his hands over his face in frustration. He felt completely lost, unsure what to do or how to feel.

He felt clueless.

…

Weeks passed, and he continued to turn away every visitor. Y/n had come by several times, hoping to see him, but each time, he declined. The guilt gnawed at him—he wanted to let her in more than anything, yet he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not yet.

Now, navigating the school hallways on crutches, he silently prayed not to run into her in this state. But, as if fate had other plans, he spotted a familiar figure ahead.

“Chigiri?”

His body tensed at the sound of her voice. Though it was weird. Even though he’d hoped to avoid her, he couldn’t help feeling a spark of happiness at seeing her again.

But he couldn’t move. He begged his body to move, even just a single step, but nothing happened.

“Oh… Chigiri… are you okay?” Her voice was soft, filled with concern.

Just as he feared, he saw pity in her eyes. A flicker of irritation rose in him. He didn’t want anyone’s pity, especially not hers. He didn’t want to be seen as fragile, someone who needed special care or couldn’t handle himself. He wasn’t some helpless boy, and he didn’t want to be treated as one—especially not by her.

“Chigiri… please, just tell me. Are you okay?”

His jaw clenched, annoyance simmering. Why did it have to be her, the one he cared for so much, that he felt himself wanting to snap at?

“No, Y/n, I’m not okay. Just do me a favor and go away.”

He hadn’t intended for his words to come out so harshly, but the frustration bubbled over. What surprised him wasn’t that she could have easily left; it was that she stood her ground and responded just as fiercely.

“No, Chigiri. I’m not going anywhere. I’m sick and tired of you shutting everyone out and being selfish.”

Her words struck a nerve, igniting his anger. “If you came here to pity me or tell me you care, then just fuck off, Y/n. I don’t need that from anyone right now.” His voice was laced with venom as he focused on the ground, unable to meet her gaze.

She felt a jolt of shock and hurt at his response. Shocked by the audacity he had to speak to her like that and hurt because he was pushing her away when all she wanted to do was help.

“How could I not care, Chigiri? It’s only natural for me to worry about you,” Y/n replied, her voice steady.

“In such a pitiful way? No thanks, I don’t need that.” His tone remained unyielding.

He wanted to avoid this conversation; he knew it would only lead to a pointless back-and-forth. More than anything, he dreaded hearing the words he desperately didn’t want to come from her mouth.

“Why does that matter? I care about you, and ever since the accident, I’ve been worried sick,” she said earnestly.

“And I don’t need that! Don’t you understand? I hate being looked down upon. I hate not being seen as equal or better. I hate feeling helpless. I hate all of this, Y/n!” He shouted, frustration pouring out as he aimed to end the conversation.

He didn’t want to spend another moment here with her.

He hated arguing with her, but her inability to understand his feelings only deepened his frustration.

"But they care about you! I care about you! How is that such a bad thing?!" she shouted back.

"Well, I don’t need that shit from anyone! Especially not you!" he snapped, not considering the weight of his words.

Before he could take them back, something unexpected burst forth from her lips.

"Well, that fucking sucks, doesn’t it?! Because I care for you! I care for you so damn much! When I witnessed that accident, I felt a fear I’ve never known, and all I could think was, 'Is he okay?'

"You can’t stop the people who love you from caring about you! That’s just how it works because I love you, Chigiri! I love you so much! It hurts my heart when you shut me out. I try to be understanding—I really do. But what you’re doing right now is just flat-out shitty.”

His eyes widened as he lifted his head to meet her gaze. Shocked would be an understatement; he was completely taken aback. He never expected an argument to lead to a confession—unless it truly was a confession.

Could he believe the words that had just come out of her mouth? Did she mean it the way he hoped?

Before he could ask, she seemed to read his thoughts. “Yes, Chigiri, this is a confession… I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, especially if you don’t feel the same. I just had to say it—”

“I love you too, Y/n.”

Now it was her turn to be shocked. The realization hit them both, a powerful wave of mutual feeling. Nothing could describe the rush in their chests, the connection that suddenly felt undeniable.

The tension that had hung in the air dissipated, replaced by a steadier sense between them.

They breathed easier now, lost in each other's gaze.

"I love you so much, Y/n. I'm sorry for shutting you out," Chigiri said, breaking the silence.

"It's alright, Chigiri. I forgive you." Y/n smiled softly, never breaking eye contact.

With determination, Chigiri slowly released his grip on the crutches and took a step toward her. To his surprise, he managed to walk unsteadily but steadily forward.

He gently cupped her face in his hands, taking in her features, as beautiful as he remembered. It felt like that day on the field, except this time he was holding her.

His thumb brushed softly beneath her bottom lip as he asked, “Can I?”

A simple nod was all he needed. He leaned in slowly, closing the distance and filling the emptiness between them.

This was their first kiss—clumsy yet sincere, a moment they would both cherish as they navigated through their feelings.

He took the lead, deepening the kiss as he pulled her closer, his right hand sliding to the small of her waist. She wrapped her arms around his neck, matching his movements effortlessly.

Eventually, they broke the kiss, and he gazed at her lovingly, his heart swelling with happiness. Her eyes sparkled with the same affection.

A smile spread across his face as he held her in his arms.

"I love you, Y/n."

"I love you too, Chigiri."

a/n: no words besides that Chigiri is truly an exquisite masterpiece

He's so zesty tho wth😭