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yikes-aemond · 3 months ago

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I love you. It's ruining my life. (Part IV)

pairing: Benjicot Blackwood x Bracken!fem!reader (no descriptions of reader except that she wears dresses and has long hair)

warnings: canon typical violence, cursing, death

summary: You and Benjicot Blackwood plan for the future. Things don’t quite go as planned.

word count: 5.1k

author note: Thank you all so much for your patience! I will not lie—this part was a struggle to write. I think I rewrote it at least three times, and I am still not sure if I’m absolutely satisfied. Fair warning, I’m putting our lovebirds through the ringer, but do not worry—I’m a girl who loves a happily ever after. Also, no smut in this part, but stick around for part five. Happy reading!

part i can be found here, part ii here, and part iii here.

“Have you lost your mind?”

You could not have heard him correctly. Surely Benjicot Blackwood had not just asked you to marry him, while you were half naked.

You hurried to adjust your dress and cover yourself in a desperate attempt to establish some sense of dignity and propriety in this moment. Had you not been overwhelmed by the day, had you not been so taken off guard, you might have responded a little more kindly to a proposal from your beloved.

Benjicot laughed as he watched you try to gather your wits about you. He followed your direction, adjusting his breaches so that everything was tucked back into its proper place.

Once you were both decent, Benjicot reiterated, “I am quite serious. We should marry this evening.”

You shook your head, mind racing as you tried to comprehend what he was saying, what he was asking. For years, you had watched Benjicot from afar. Watched the way he grew into a man, into someone that people feared and respected in equal measure. Being with Benjicot was always your dream. The one you had tucked away in your heart for years, never to see the light of day should you dare to do the most dangerous thing in all of Westeros—hope.

And now he was asking you to marry him. You felt unbalanced, unsteady. Your head and your heart were at war.

You managed to get off the bed. Needing a moment to collect yourself, you put some distance between you and Benjicot and moved back across the room to the fireplace.

When you turned back to Benjicot, you saw that he had not moved. His eyes were fixed on you, that predatory gaze locked onto your form, waiting for your response.

That look in his eyes never failed to make you squirm. The weight of that stare made you think he could hear every thought in your head, all your secrets and dreams.

You sighed, breaking eye contact and said, “You know that our families will never allow it.”

Benjicot stood then, and slowly stalked toward you. With each step, you felt your heartbeat pound louder against your chest. You had thought that the longer you spent in his presence, the more you would become used to him. But you could not deny the effect Benjicot had on you, on your body.

Benjicot took your hands in his, and pulled you against him. Placing your hands on his chest, he rubbed his thumbs over the scrapes you had gotten earlier in the woods. Had that only been this morning? Time seemed to hold no meaning in this room. A prison that now felt like a sanctuary.

“That is why we must marry tonight.” Benjicot smiled, and then placed a kiss on your brow. “By the time they find out, it will be too late.”

You pulled back, just enough so that you could look at his face. “And do your really expect your father and Black Aly to welcome me into the family with open arms?”

Benjicot was still smiling, still so sure of his plan. “They will once they see how happy we are. How much we love each other.” He shrugged before continuing, “And we would not be the first Blackwoods and Brackens to marry. Others have done it in the name of peace.”

“But our families do not seek peace now!” You practically shouted, frustration coloring your tone. “We are on the brink of war, and our families stand on opposite sides.”

You tried pulling away, but Benjicot tightened his arms around you, stilling your struggle. Whatever good humor Benjicot had was slowly leaching from his features. “You know as well as I do that Queen Rhaenyra is the rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms.”

You closed your eyes and took a steadying breath.“Of course I agree with you, but that does not change the fact that my father will disown me if we do this. I will never be able to return home.”

Benjicot pressed another kiss to your temple and whispered against your skin,“Would that be such an awful thing?”

You felt your heart jerk at his question. The idea of never seeing your family again, of never being welcomed home, of never eating your cook’s fruit pies or riding through the moorlands outside of Stone Hedge on a misty morning, or gods never visiting your mother’s gravestone, was enough to send a wave of nausea through you.

You hid your face against his chest. “My father was not always the most loving, but he is my father. For all the faults you may find with him, he has never been cruel to me.”

Benjicot felt the shift in your mood, could practically feel the sadness and desperation radiate from the points where you touched. He knew the sacrifice he was asking you to make was no small thing. He rubbed his hands up and down your arms, trying to comfort the turmoil within you.

You could not stop the tears even if you wanted to. You did not wail, did not scream at the unfairness of your situation, did not rail against the old gods and the new for cursing your families and subjecting them to an endless blood feud. For what else could this ancient, hateful grudge between the Blackwoods and Brackens be except for a curse?

Even if you could convince your father to bless a marriage between you and Benjicot, any children between you would be enlisted to the war. Generations of prejudice had proven that. It was no matter that the Bracken or Blackwood on the other side would be a cousin. No matter that no one could remember how the hatred between your two families even began. No matter how senseless the bloodshed would be.

This was your and Benjicot’s world. You could not run from the truth of your situation, could not hide from your fates. Not if you wanted your love to withstand.

And even though the thought of never going back to Stone Hedge was devastating, the thought of never seeing Benjicot again was unthinkable. Never hearing his voice or his laugh. Never seeing his smiles. Never having him hold you in his arms. You could not bear the separation, not after having a taste of what your life could be like together.

Your tears slowed and your breathing evened out. Whatever doubts that had plagued your mind were banished. Resolution steeled your spine. You took a fortifying breath and lifted your head from Benjicot’s chest. With a watery smile on your face, you said, “I accept your proposal, Benjicot Blackwood.”

Benjicot’s joy was infectious. Smiling wide and bright, he lifted you into his arms and kissed you with such a reverence that left your breathless. Gods, you loved this man. Wanted him again and could not imagine ever being parted from him. The very thought of being separated was enough to send a panic through you.

You wrapped your arms around Benjicot’s neck and tangled your hands in his hair, your tongue in his mouth. You felt his joy in that kiss. And you let that joy into your heart. Let it fill and warm you. In this moment, you allowed yourself to be happy.

The impossible dream was becoming a reality.

When Benjicot had proposed, he did not have an actual plan. He did not have any rings or a marriage cloak. As a Blackwood, he preferred to have a ceremony before the old gods in front of the ancient, colossal weirwood tree in the godswood.

Because there were no clergy associated with the old gods, the current Lord Blackwood usually performed marriage ceremonies at Raventree Hall. But seeing as his father would likely oppose the marriage, that left Benjicot with few options. With a little convincing, or in Benjicot’s case, a little threat of bodily harm, the maester finally agreed to perform the ceremony.

You could not stop smiling as Benjicot snuck you out of your rooms. With each passing hallway and corridor, you felt your excitement grow. You could barely contain your glee as you clung to each other, arms linked and hands intertwined, as you made your way into the godswood.

The maester stood before the weirwood tree, with only the moonlight and a few lanterns to light the way. Hundreds of ravens were to be your witnesses. On any other night, feeling the weight of all those eyes watching you might have felt unsettling. But nothing could spoil this moment, nothing could come between you and Benjicot—

“What in the Seven Hells do you think you’re doing?”

Every muscle in your body tensed. Panic settled in your chest, and you felt your stomach drop.

Black Aly stood at the edge of the godswood, her bow and arrow knocked and poised to strike.

You felt the world shift. One moment you were standing beside Benjicot, and the next, Benjicot stood in between you and Aly, putting himself in the way of the arrow that had been aimed at your chest.

“Lower the bow, Aly.” Benjicot’s voice was hard and low. You watched as he moved his hand to the hilt of his dagger, ready to draw the blade at any moment.

Even from a distance, you could see Aly roll her eyes at Benjicot’s actions, but she did not lower her bow. “Do not overwork yourself, nephew.”

You grabbed the back of Benjicot’s cloak, pulling slightly as if to hold him back. You glanced wearily back and forth between the Blackwoods. Two warriors preparing to battle. The last thing you wanted was for there to be violence. For surely a duel between Bloody Ben and Black Aly would be a fight for the ages.

Benjicot’s body was tense as yours. He did not truly believe that Aly would hurt you. Aly was tough but fair, and underneath her brash attitude and hostility, she had a gentle heart. But he would not risk you. Would not allow anyone to threaten or harm you. Not when he had the ability to protect you.

Benjicot pulled out his dagger. “Put the bow away, Aly. I will not ask again.”

You wanted to step in between them like you had done in the fight with Aeron. But this situation was different. This was two Blackwood who were taking the measure of each other, testing how far the other was willing to go. You could not intervene, even if the sight of an arrow pointed at Benjicot was enough to send your blood running cold.

After what felt like hours, Aly lowered her bow. Sighing, she returned the arrow to her quiver. Only then did Benjicot sheath his dagger.

“You sure have a flare for the dramatics, nephew.”

Now it was Benjicot’s turn to roll his eyes. “Says the woman who had an arrow aimed at my betrothed.”

Your heart fluttered at the word.

Aly huffed out a laugh. “Is that what she is to you? Your betrothed? I do not recall your father agreeing to any such arrangement.”

Benjicot remained in front of you, a barrier between you and Aly. “I asked for her hand, and she accepted.”

Aly stood with her hands on her hips, eyes directed toward the heavens. She looked as if she were searching for patience amongst the stars. When she cut her gaze back to Benjicot, you could not miss the look of pity that flashed across her face.

“Benji, you know that you cannot marry her.”

You reached for Benjicot’s hand, needing his touch and warmth to ground you in this moment. Whatever happiness you had felt, whatever joy that you had shared, was now slowly falling through your grasp.

Black Aly would never allow you two to marry. Not like this.

But Benjicot’s stubbornness was no light thing. “I love her, Aly. I will marry her, and you cannot stop me.”

Just as Aly was about to respond, you saw her face pale and expression grow uneasy. And when you heard the voice behind you, you understood why.

“You would be wise to reconsider that position, son.”

If you had thought you felt panic before, that was nothing to the sickening feeling that plagued you now.

Because standing on the opposite side of the godswood, directly across from Aly, was Lord Samwell Blackwood. Benjicot’s father, and your own father’s sworn enemy. And with him stood a dozen Blackwood guards, each looking between you and Benjicot with expressions that ranged from disbelief to disgust.

You had never been formally introduced to Lord Blackwood. He was a rather tall man, with hair as black as a raven’s wing. His close-cropped beard was the same. Like Benjicot, his gaze was enough to send a lesser man cowering. And right now that gaze was cold and enraged and fixed on you and Benjicot.

If Benjicot had not been holding your hand, you would have been trembling. The two of you were trapped.

“Are you so eager to start a war, Benjicot?” Lord Blackwood asked, his tone was like ice. “For some Bracken wench?”

You felt Benjicot’s hand tighten around yours, almost to the point of pain. One glance at Benjicot told you that he was furious. His glare held that feral edge, and he was close to snarling. Bloody Ben was backed into a corner, and he looked itching for a fight. Even if that fight was against his own father.

“You will mind how you speak about my lady, father.” Had you not been so fearful for your life and his, you would have thought that declaration rather romantic.

Lord Blackwood did not look impressed. “Do you have any idea what kind of trouble you and your lady have brought to our door, Benjicot?”

“We wish to marry, father.” Benjicot glanced at you as he said, “We love each other.”

A long suffering sigh escaped from Lord Blackwood as he motioned for his men to stand down. “That does not change the fact that she is a Bracken. You cannot simply marry her without expecting there to be consequences.”

“I am prepared to accept any consequence if it means we can be together.” The surety in Benjicot’s tone was enough to ease the fear that had gripped you since you had been discovered. You could help but give him a small smile.

A smile that Lord Blackwood did not miss. “And you, Lady Bracken?” Lord Blackwood sneered. “Are you prepared to face the consequences of this marriage? Your father will seek retribution for this little act of rebellion. Are you prepared to have blood on your hands?”

Now you were the one who squeezed Benjicot’s hand. Lord Blackwood terrified you, and so did his words. You did not wish to be the cause of another fight between the Blackwoods and the Brackens, did not want to send anyone to their death because you fell in love with someone who was never meant to be yours.

Benjicot nudged his shoulder against yours, offering you what strength he could. With him standing at your side, you found the courage to meet Lord Blackwood’s gaze. “Whatever trials and tribulations may come our way, Lord Blackwood, I am prepared to meet them with Benjicot as my lord husband.”

Even without looking at him, you could feel Benjicot’s eyes on you as you held your own against his father. Could feel how proud he was of you for defending your future together.

Taking another breathe, you could not help but add, “You speak of my hands becoming bloody, but I could not think of anything more fitting for a woman betrothed to Bloody Ben Blackwood.”

The silence in the godswood was deafening.

Every person and creature seemed to be holding their breath for Lord Blackwood’s response. You did not dare break eye contact with him, determined to hold your ground and prove yourself worthy of being Benjicot’s wife.

Lord Blackwood finally moved his gaze from you and back to Benjicot. “We will treat with Lord Bracken tomorrow. Offer him a parley. You will ask his permission to marry his daughter. You will accept his decision, no matter what he says.”

“Father! You know he will not—”

But Lord Blackwood had heard enough. Holding up his hand, he demanded silence. “Those are my terms, Benjicot. Be grateful I am allowing this much.”

A weariness had settled over Lord Blackwood’s features. Although he was still a man in his prime, in that moment, he looked aged and tired. As he turned to leave the godswood, he said, “We stand on the brink of war. The Targaryens are at each other’s throats since King Viserys passed. Soon House Blackwood will be asked to choose a side, and you have allowed your foolish heart to guide your choices.”

You could tell Benjicot wanted to protest, wanted to push back on his father’s orders. He knew as well as you did that convincing your father to allow the two of you to marry was going to take an act of the gods.

And even though Benjicot knew when to pick his battles, knew when he had lost a fight, he could not help but have the last word. “There are worse things to be guided by than one’s heart, father.”

Benjicot’s words gave Lord Blackwood pause. For a moment, you thought he might respond, might reprimand Benjicot for his lack of respect. Only when Lord Blackwood continued walking out of the godswood did you feel like you could breathe again.

The Blackwood guards followed their ledge lord, leaving you, Benjicot, and Aly in the presence of the ravens. You could have collapsed from exhaustion. You felt wrung out from the day. Too much had happened in such a short period of time, and your body was protesting.

Aly approached and stopped just short of you and Benjicot. “Well, that did not quite go as I expected.”

Benjicot rounded on Aly, and with animosity in his voice, he asked, “Why did you stop us?”

Aly stared at Benjicot like he had grown a second head. “We’re trying to prevent a war, Benji. Had the two of you married, Bracken would have shown up here with a thousand men seeking your head. You might love each other, but is that love really worth the lives of hundreds? Thousands?”

“You are overreacting—”

Aly shoved at Benjicot’s chest. “And you are being an idiot! Use your head, Benji. If you had married in secret, the Brackens would have stopped at nothing to avenge that insult. You know that, even if you are too blind to see it.”

With a softer tone, Aly continued, “Be grateful your father is supporting you in this. He could have just as easily returned her to Stone Hedge. You have a chance.”

Benjicot scoffed. “A chance? Do you really believe—”

“Enough.” You cut Benjicot off before he could say another word. You took his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. “My father may hate Blackwoods, but he is not unreasonable. We will convince him.”

You could tell that Benjicot was struggling to control his temper. He was still running hot from the confrontation with Aly and his father. Bloody Ben was lingering too close to the surface. You pulled his face toward yours and pressed a kiss to his lips. Nothing more than a gentle peck, but enough to distract him.

When you pulled back, you could see that some of the edge had worn off. Benjicot’s face was calmer, less hostile. “I love you, Benjicot Blackwood. I do not plan to give you up without a fight.”

Benjicot smiled at your words, the soft smile he reserved just for you. He wrapped his arms around you, tucking you under his chin. “My brave girl. I pity any man who would dare cross you.”

You held each other for a moment before Aly cleared her throat. “If you two are finished, I’m going to escort little Bracken back to her rooms.”

With a quick kiss to your head, Benjicot released you and said, “Sleep well, my lady.”

You did not want to leave Benjicot, but you knew there was no way Aly was going to let you stay with each other. As you followed her out of the godswood, you could not help but take one last look at Benjicot.

You nearly stumbled when you saw him. Beneath the ancient weirwood tree, bathed in moonlight and surrounded by ravens, stood Benjicot. His head bowed as if in prayer.

You did not have to guess what he was praying about. You only hoped that the old gods were listening.

The only neutral territory acceptable to both the Blackwoods and the Brackens were the boundary stones near the old windmill. The day was overcast and cold, with the wind tearing through the cloak Aly had lent you.

Aly had not left your side since collecting you from your rooms that morning. You and Benjicot had been kept separated for the entire journey. You had asked for him, begged Aly to allow you two a moment alone, but she had refused. Lord Blackwood was keeping both she and Benjicot on a tight leash until this matter was settled.

To say you were nervous was an understatement. You had tossed and turned the entire night, too anxious to close your eyes for fear of what your dreams may hold. You might have been confident with Benjicot the night before, but in truth, you had no idea how to convince your father to allow you to marry.

The Brackens had arrived first.

A host of about fifty men had gathered on their side of the boundary stones. A sea of red and gold with a few horses scattered in the mix. You did not miss how all the men were armed with swords at the ready.

And in the front, seated atop his favorite war horse and adorned in battle leathers, was Amos Bracken. Your father.

Amos Bracken was not as tall or built as Samwell Blackwood, but you knew your father to be a proficient swordsmen and respected fighter in his own right. You had no doubt that should this come to blows, he would hold his own.

Aeron stood beside him. A united front against their perceived enemies. And while your father’s face was blank of all emotions, calm and controlled, Aeron’s disdain for the Blackwoods was clear for all to see.

The Blackwood host equalled that of the Brackens’. You had ridden to the neutral ground on the back of Aly’s horse. You had tried to spot Benjicot all morning, but there were too many men, too much chaos. The closer you got to the boundary stones, the more you felt Aly tense in front of you.

When you finally stopped, Aly directed you to the front of the vanguard. She had drawn her bow the moment your feet hit the ground.

Your first sight of Benjicot sent your heart thumping. His dark hair was mussed, as if he had run his hand through it multiple times. But that was the only sign that Benjicot felt uneasy. His posture was relaxed, and his mouth was fixed in a smirk, like this meeting was an every day occurrence. He showed no fear.

Aly stopped you slightly behind and to the right of Benjicot. You saw the moment when your father and Aeron spotted you. Your father’s eyes narrowed slightly, and Aeron’s face twisted into a mix of shock and disbelief.

You swallowed down the fear and anxiety. Swallowed down the nausea that threatened to upend your breakfast. Swallowed down any uncertainty you felt. You had to present a strong front to your father and his men. Otherwise, they would pounce on any hesitation and demand that you be returned home.

Lord Blackwood broke the silence first. “Amos. A pleasure as always.”

“Cut the shit, Blackwood,” Lord Bracken snarled, “and return my daughter to me.”

The words were not unexpected. You tensed as Aeron shifted his hand to the sword at his side, stomach twisting as he gripped the hilt.

You exhaled a long breath and fixed your gaze on your father. “I am well, father. The Blackwoods have treated me kindly.”

Lord Bracken’s face darkened, and you instantly regretted speaking. “I do not want to hear a single word from you.”

Your cheeks flamed at the dismissal, but you refused to lower your eyes. Refused to cower before your family. “Then I am sorry to disappoint you, father.”

“You insubordinate, ungrateful—”

“Lord Bracken,” Benjicot interjected, stopping your father from insulting you further. “I am here to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage.”

You did not so much as breathe as you waited for your father to respond.

And waited.

The longer you waited, the more panic seeped into your veins. But when your father finally responded, you wished that he had not.

With a sneer on his face, your father glared at Benjicot when he said, “I would sooner feed my daughter to one of those Targaryen dragons before marrying her to some Blackwood cunt.”

You had felt like someone had knocked the air from your lungs. You had never seen such hatred on your father’s face. Had never heard his voice sound so cold and cruel. You knew that he hated the Blackwoods, but to sentence you to death rather than let you marry?

You looked at your father like he was a stranger.

You heard angry shouts and curses behind you from the Blackwood host. Felt that the bloodlust in the air had upped a notch.

Lord Blackwood held up a hand to silence his men. “Careful, Bracken.”

“My daughter was taken by your son. Subjected to gods knows what. I will not be careful, Blackwood.”

“That’s not true, father!” You shouted, launching yourself to stand before your father. You had to find some way to convince him, some way to get him to listen. “Benjicot and I are in love. Please, just listen to us.”

Your father scoffed. “Love? Between a Bracken and a Blackwood? Do not make me laugh.”

The Bracken host jeered at your father’s word, laughing and snickering at the very idea of you and Benjicot being together. You even heard a man call out, “Blackwood whore!”

You did not see Benjicot move. Did not see him reach for the dagger at his hip. Did not see him launch the blade into the air.

But you could not miss the dagger embedding itself into the man’s throat. Could not miss the splattering of blood or the final wheeze of breath the man took before falling to the ground. Dead in the blink of an eye.

A scream tore from your throat. You whipped around to look at Benjicot and found Bloody Ben instead. His eyes held that crazed, feral look, but there was no smirk.

Every Blackwood and Bracken standing in that field un-sheathed their weapons.

“You may insult me all you wish, Bracken!” Benjicot called out, moving forward. “Call me a cunt. Call me craven. I do not care.” He stopped next to you and took your hand. "But I will cut down any man who dares to say such vile insults to my lady. Of that, I promise you.”

Your father did not look pleased by that declaration. If anything, he looked more enraged than before. “You violate the terms of this parley, Blackwood. You have spilled Bracken blood. I have the right to demand your head. But I will settle for the return of my daughter. Now.”

You were close to tears. Nothing you or Benjicot said moved your father. He was determined to hold onto his hatred, to see the Blackwoods in the worst possible light. But you could not give up—you had to try.

“Father, please,” your voice broke at the words, “I know that the feud between our families has lasted for a millennium. I know that the thought of a Blackwood and Bracken being together, of loving one another, is inconceivable to you. I know that this is not the life you wished for me. But I have lovedBenjicot since I was a girl.” You took a quick glance at Benjicot to give you strength. “And he loves me. I humbly ask you to grant our union.”

Your father refused to look at you. Refused to acknowledge your words or pleas. You clutched Benjicot’s hand tighter. For you knew what was coming. Knew that your father was about to crush whatever hope you still held onto.

Ignoring you and Benjicot as if you were insignificant, he directed his words to Lord Blackwood, “I do not give my blessing to this marriage. Return my daughter to me or we will have war.”

Your vision swam and your ears began ringing. Somewhere in the distance you heard Lord Blackwood sigh and give the command. Your hand was ripped from Benjicot’s, by whom you did not know. You felt as if the entire world had spun off its axis. How had everything gone so wrong?

One moment, you were standing next to Benjicot, his warm hand against yours, and then in the blink of an eye, you were on the other side of the boundary stones, with Aeron leading you away.

You felt as if you were disconnected from your body. Aeron’s arms were around you, guiding you. You were vaguely aware that he was trying to say something, speak to you about what had happened. But you felt nothing. Heard nothing. A numbness had settled over you.

Only when you heard Benjicot call out your name did you snap.

You shoved against Aeron, tried to run back across the boundary stones to Blackwood land, back to your love, but Aeron held firm. You struggled against him, screaming and hitting and kicking, but your strength was no match for his.

You looked across the field to see Benjicot being held back by three men. He was snarling and raging, but the men held firm and forced him to his knees. You watched as Aly tried to speak to him, tried to calm him down.

But there was no calming Bloody Ben. Not now. Not when his lady had been taken from him.

When Benjicot saw that you were watching him, saw that you were struggling against your own constraints, he stopped. His eyes were wild and fierce and held the promise of retribution. With laboring breaths Benjicot shouted across the field, “I will come you for you, my lady!” He vowed. “I will always come for you!”

You sobbed at his words. Sobbed for the happiness and hope that you had felt only hours before. Sobbed for the future you might have shared together.

For the second time, you were forced to leave Benjicot behind in this accursed field. Only this time, the heartbreak was so much worse. You had gotten a taste of the impossible dream, gotten so close to getting everything you wanted.

Your dream had become a nightmare.

final author note: I know! I know! We have to suffer before things get better. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated. Love you babes xx

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o-sachi · 4 months ago

Text

Dress to Impress Headcanons ‧₊˚ ⋅ Blue Lock Chars.

ଳ what's it like to play the roblox game dress to impress with the blue lock boys?

ଳ characters; isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, michael kaiser, alexis ness, shidou ryusei, nagi seishirou, reo mikage, Chigiri Hyoma

ଳ tags; crack, some profanity lol, gn reader, no y/n, can be established rs or not

[🐟]: Let me know if you want more characters to this hehe ~

ᯓ Isagi Yoichi

"How do you change the skin? Where's the hair? Why do the others have faces?"

He's so lost... poor baby. Expect a lot of questions (some of which get repeated) from him about how the game works. He's going to be overwhelmed with the buttons and stuff around his character.

You think 5 minutes is more than enough to put together an outfit, but somehow Isagi comes out of the runway without hair or with a bunch of clothes layered on top of each other.

He also asks how you do the poses on the runway.

"Hey, what's pose 28?"

HE RATES SUPER HIGH, so you're over there pouting 'cuz he's helping these 10 year old children win.

"This one's really nice. She's got a big bow on her head." / "But the theme is sad day, Yoichi..." / "And? Won't a big bow make it a happy one?"

Gets a bit sad 'cuz he gets rated low even if he rated all the others with 4 or 5 stars. Awww...

ᯓ Bachira Meguru

"I CAN MAKE MY SKIN GREEN? HOLY SHI-"

Expect that he will always use the most blinding colors known to man. He's gonna walk out on that runway looking like a traffic light.

He's so noisy when he plays. It's like he's commentating everything that's happening to him as if he has a whole stream going on. But in reality, it's just the two of you.

Spams pose 28 because all of the other cool ones aren't free.

Says "slay" every time he walks out because you said it once to him.

"HELL YEAH THAT'S A SLAAAY."

But if he's on a losing streak, he'll suddenly go quiet and focus more lol.

"Why are you quiet all of a sudden?" / "Shhh, don't interrupt my creative juices."

ᯓ Michael Kaiser

"What? Are you playing this game with your eyes closed or something?"

He said that. On voice chat. To a little girl. Who cried.

You had to reprimand him and tell him to apologize to the girl. But with his pride, he only allowed himself to rate her 5 stars the next round as his way of saying sorry.

"There. 5 stars... for the most clown outfit I've ever seen." / "Mihya!"

So mean to everyone else, but will always compliment your outfit even the ones you barely put effort in. You're starting to wonder whether or not it was condescending or heartfelt...

"That outfit looks great. We should duo in the next round." / "No, everyone in the server's mad at you and it'll affect my rating too."

He never makes it to the top 3 despite the good outfits he puts together because he talks shit on everyone in the server.

ᯓ Alexis Ness

"I got all the new codes; let me type them for you."

HE'S SUPER GOOD AT IT? It's to the point that you're jealous because his rank's way higher than yours.

"Just type M3RM4ID in that box." / "It's not working." / "Did you type the E as a 3 and the A as a 4?" / "What?" / "Never mind, gimme your Ipad."

He definitely knows all the codes that unlocks the hidden special items of the game. Plus, he's super into the lore as well. The nail technician? You bet he's going to talk about her extensive lore.

Super efficient when putting together an outfit. He's got a whole routine down to a T.

He actually rates outfits objectively—not too low and never too high.

ᯓ Shidou Ryusei

"HAHAHA WHAT'S UP WITH THAT WHACK ASS OUTFIT? #############"

He has also made a kid cry before. But unlike Kaiser, he doesn't listen to you and doubles down on it. Just an absolute menace all around.

He's definitely muted by the other people in the server because regardless of what he says, no one is responding to him. So there's only you left to talk to him.

Doesn't even try to put together a decent outfit. You're not even sure if he reads the theme at all because he walks out on the runway looking like the personification of a fever dream.

"Haha look. This pose makes it look like I'm thrusting in the air." / "Ryu! Oh my gosh..."

Definitely has been banned from Roblox before and he's using a new account to play with you.

Everything he types just shows up as hashtags at this point...

ᯓ Nagi Seishirou

"This theme is such a hassle... when is it going to be the pajama party theme?"

He already plays Roblox to begin with, but he needed extra convincing from you to play Dress to Impress because he didn't see the thrill in it.

He was only convinced when he saw you rage quitting after losing with such a fabulous outfit. He realized the competitive aspect of it and decided to play with you.

Nagi doesn't realize it but his rotation consists of the same tops and bottoms, so his outfits always come out looking the same. This leads him to losing all the time.

He definitely complains when the runway has too many players. Like... when is it going to end?

"Sei! Did you just tell the kids in the server to leave? What the hell?" / "Yah. They were making the line too long and I don't wanna wait."

Also complains when he doesn't show up in the top 3 even though he didn't really put any effort into his outfit.

ᯓ Reo Mikage

"Hey, babe, look. I bought the VIP. Want me to buy it for you too?"

HE'S SO PAY TO WIN. He's a VIP player, has all the pose packs, and literally everything you can buy in the game. He's not shy about flaunting it to the other players in the lobby.

He'll spend the first minute in the VIP area then walk all smug in the cOmMoNeR's area wearing the biggest fuck-you dress ever.

If the theme is anything normal, he'll still manage to make the outfit look high-end.

Trust that he'll spam all the expensive poses once he's on the runway. The little rascal would be smirking to himself as he presses the different poses.

Reo grumbles to himself when he loses. He can't help but be annoyed when he gets only a few stars while literally wearing a dress that costs thousands of robux.

"I was literally wearing the biggest ball gown and I still lost? What the fuck."

ᯓ Chigiri Hyoma

"Hm? Oh, yeah. I gave you 5 stars. Yeah, for sure... for sure."

SUPER COMPETITIVE! Not even you are safe from aggressive dressing and impressing.

You two will be in duos, but he'll always one up you.

"Hmm... interesting choice of colors." / "Is it that bad?" / "Bad? What do you mean? It's great. I promise."

He won't be talking shit on anyone, but you can tell what's running through his head with that smug look on his face.

"What's up with that look? / "Hm? Oh... haha. I'm just enjoying the game you know? / "..."

Will refuse to choose any other hair that doesn't resemble his own. It doesn't matter if the theme requires a different color. He will be using his red/pink hair and no one will stop him.

tag list; @meowkages , @shidousprincess

ε( ε ˙³˙)ɜ ｡° ⚬ ｡ likes and reblogs are appreciated

pls do not translate/copy/reupload my work on other platforms.

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock headcanons #kaiser x reader #nagi x reader

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yesimwriting · 2 months ago

Note

Okay, so, secretly pining best friends with Logan! Very fun! Loved it!

But also, adults do have "sleepovers," (too tired/drunk/late to drive home, so you crash overnight on the couch) and depending on the dynamic of your friendship, can actually be a little taste of what domestic life would be like together. Just. Sitting together quietly, winding down from a good day, then getting ready for bed when one of you decides it's time to be A Responsible Adult and get a decent night's sleep (you're not kids anymore, after all. Sleep is important).

Waking up in the morning, knowing your best friend is here. Quietly making breakfast together, laughing over how sleepy you both are before coffee, lightly teasing each other over bed head and morning breath. Doing your morning routines together, pointing out stupid shit in the news or bitching over work emails, just drawing out the time before you have to get ready to face the real world.

Imagine Logan being one of those sleepy bear types who grumbles until he fully wakes up, who's soft and warm and domestic when he's with someone he trusts. Also, I imagine that if you tease him about needing to shave in the morning, he'd be the type to chase you down and rub his scruffy face on you in revenge, which is basically how a scruffy guy marks you as his. (His best friend? His potential future partner? No, just his in general.)

a/n yes, a hundred percent yes to all of this

----

The soft glow of the bedside lamp has transported you into another world. A universe made up of the faint scent of detergent and the feel of warm bedding beneath your fingertips.

You blink. There's no reason to feel as drowsy as you do, not when Logan's spent the last ten minutes scolding you. Still, though, something about sitting at the foot of his bed makes it easy to give into your lingering haze. It'd be easy to fall asleep like this.

"Don't," the instruction is flat, "Stay awake."

His back is still to you, which means there's no harm in openly frowning. "I am."

Logan's sigh is nearly masked by the gentle groan of a drawer being pushed shut. He turns around, expression still pinched but much less irritated than before. "Barely." You part your lips, some nonsensical protest waiting on the tip of your tongue, but Logan beats you to it, "Here."

He's extending an arm, a piece of fabric clutched loosely between his fingers. You blink again, this time focusing on the weight of your eyelids. The gesture is such a sharp contrast from his earlier attitude, you're nearly overwhelmed by your whiplash.

You stand before accepting the T-shirt. "Thought you were mad at me."

He lets out a breath, the sound sharp enough to constitute a warning. "I'm not--" His gaze shifts towards the ground. "You should have called me."

This again. "I was fine." His eyebrows draw together with the same level of offense that he used when you first presented this argument. "And I wasn't even alone, I was with Jean and Scott." He scoffs. "And you said to call you if anything went wrong, and nothing did."

Logan walks forward slowly, his steps measured until he's close enough to fully deteriorate your already fragile train of thought. In an attempt to regain control, you lift your head to look him in the eye. He frowns as he raises a hand, his fingers coming to rest beneath your chin.

He's careful as he tilts your head back. There's a weight to his silence. "You're drunk." All you can think to do is blink. He's known this, it's the main reason he's been lecturing you since the couple that graciously allowed you to third wheel all night dropped you off. "You're unreliable."

"Not that drunk."

The correction doesn't ease him. He studies you for another long moment before releasing you with a tired sigh. Maybe you should take it easy on him. It's not his fault he has the heart and patience of someone that's lived two centuries. You sigh. "Fine, next time I go out, I'll wake you up to come get me, even if I'm totally okay."

He ignores your sarcasm with expert ease. "Knew you'd get it, Princess."

You squeeze the T-shirt's fabric between your fingers in an attempt to ignore the warmth threatening to crawl up your neck. "I'm full of understanding."

"Yeah," he mumbles flatly, turning away from you as he walks towards his bed. You watch him with an openness that a more sober you would have never gotten away with. Logan had come to the door in a pair of loose sweats and no shirt. It had been easy to ignore his appearance when you were still in the giggly stages of being drunk. "Go change."

An instinctual desire to argue almost has you protesting, but you are tired of your going out clothes. And the thought of getting to pass out in Logan's bed for a few hours isn't exactly unappealing.

You pull the T-shirt over your head. Logan says your name, but you're too focused on adjusting the hemline to react. The shirt's large enough to cover most of your upper thigh, falling only an inch or two above the dress you're wearing. You slip the dress's straps off of your shoulders before reaching beneath the shirt's loose fabric. You tug at the dress's zipper before slipping the material down your legs.

You pick up the discarded fabric, folding the dress before placing it on top of Logan's dresser. He's uncharacteristically quiet as you approach the available side of his bed. "You seem tired."

He leans towards his nightstand, arm stretching outwards to turn of his bedside lamp. His eyes settle on some point a little past your shoulder. "Not all of us are 20-somethings that can stay up all night."

It's a teasing comment, likely an attempt at preemptively limiting your usual 10 to 15 minutes of yapping before actually attempting to fall asleep, but it digs at you. Jean was the one that insisted on letting Logan babysit you, you wanted to let him sleep. "I didn't want to wake you up."

Logan shifts, his bent leg nearly brushing against yours. "I wasn't asleep," the words are low, careful, "But if I had been--you wake me up." He pauses. "I'd rather that than know you're walking around drunk and looking like that."

An uneasy heat spreads through your chest. You focus on the bedding pooled over your lap. Like that--the kind of comment that'd usually have you insulting the person making it for attempted slut shaming. But Logan's voice is too distant for you to find any insult in it, even in a teasing context.

You bend fabric between your fingers, pressing the nail of your thumb into the material. You nod once.

He shifts towards you, his warmth becoming impossible to ignore beneath shared bedding. "I sleep better like this anyway."

The words are uncharacteristically soft, almost cautious. You lean into the feeling of them, allowing your back to relax against a pillow.

You've shared a bed with Logan before, usually after hanging out with him a little too late and once on a mission where you had to pretend to be recently engaged to avoid blowing your cover. It's not exactly common, but you know how he sleeps enough to know that he's not exaggerating. As soon as he's asleep, he loses the ability to be aware of personal space, an arm across your waist and chin pressed into your shoulder.

"Considering the way you take up the entire bed, I'm sure."

He exhales, the sound more pointed than it needs to be. "You steal blankets."

You scoff. "That's so not true." The corner of his mouth pulls itself upwards, the look much too triumphant. What a lame argument--you don't steal blankets, you're not given a chance to. As soon as Logan's on you, it's nearly impossible to move. "Like I can steal blankets out from under your adamantium skeleton."

Logan tilts his head, eyes narrowing in a way that promises nothing good. "You're saying I'm heavy."

Well, when framed like that, anything can sound rude. "No." You press your lips together to keep from laugh. "I"m saying your skeleton is literally made of metal..." You straighten in an attempt to make yourself focus. "...And metal is--" Your mental hold slips, a soft laugh tumbling past your lips as you try to think of a politically correct way to make your point. "...Heavy."

He leans forward, his knee brushing against your leg. There's a tact to his movement, a deliberateness better suited for the violence of the outside world. A warning, you realize, a moment too late.

Logan shifts his weight. You laugh as his hands find a place on each of your shoulders. "That's the same thing."

Helplessly, you press a palm against his chest. Your halfhearted protests do nothing to sway him. You laugh again, elbow pressing into the mattress in an attempt to steady yourself. Logan moves a hand to the back of your head before letting the brunt of his weight fall onto you.

You let out a sound halfway between a laugh and a squeal as you're pushed down. Your head hits the pillow, but the suddenness of the motion doesn't hurt. His forearm is resting near your head, turning him into more of an implication than an actual force capable of crushing you.

You let yourself smile openly. For someone that's always willing to remind you of his age, he has no problem acting like a child. Your lips part, but the laugh attempting to crawl up your throat dies before it can slip out.

Logan's watching you, his eyebrows drawn together in a way you can't interpret. His warmth, the feel of him against you, all of it, loses its humor.

He stays like that for what could be awhile, or no time at all. Then, Logan shifts, his arm moving away from the side of your head. Before you can overthink the change, he's resting his head against your upper stomach.

He's--there's never been this much openness about physical contact. Sure, you guys are comfortable with each other, with you having no issue resting your head against his shoulder during movies or reaching for his hand after a particularly rough mission, but that's--that's usually you.

You force yourself to recover, focusing on your breathing to keep from outing yourself. With the kind of care you'd use to keep from scaring off a skittish stray, you move a hand towards his back. He briefly stiffens as you drag your fingers against his skin, but after a second, he exhales. "You're like a house cat."

You feel Logan's sigh more than you hear it. "I'm not answering that." That's okay. You're happy enough without his validation.

Things stay quiet, and you slip further into the realm between sleep and consciousness. "You--you're um--okay, right?" The question is stiff, maybe even a little awkward. You're so close to sleep, you can't bring yourself to get what he's asking. "Comfortable?"

You're glad to not have to hide your smile. "Yeah," you mumble, voice distant, "It's nice."

You're not sure what you're referencing, but Logan doesn't ask, so you decide it doesn't really matter.

----

The light is a tangible thing, felt against your skin before you can squint your eyes open to see it.

You shift, noting the dull ache of your head as you lift your hand to wipe at your face. Wait.

It comes back to you all at once--the drinking, the after drinking, Logan.

You open your eyes fully. It's instinct to shift, but it's nearly impossible to do much more than lift your head. Logan's asleep, his head resting against your ribs and arm draped over your waist. How did you not notice this?

It would make sense for Logan to be a light sleeper. Even when he's at ease, he never seems fully settled in the feeling. So you're careful as you move, head turning as you try to look at him.

Logan's breathing loses its consistency before you can fully embrace the privacy. His fingers press into your hip so briefly you almost convince yourself the contact is only a product of your early morning haze.

He moves onto his back, palm brushing against your shirt as he leaves you. "Morning, princess."

There's something comforting about hearing his voice first thing in the morning. "Good morning." The words are a little raspier than you thought they'd be, difficult to force out around your hazy discomfort.

The corner of Logan's mouth pulls itself upwards. "I thought 20-somethings didn't get hangovers."

You roll your eyes. There are a lot of aspects of Logan's personality that warrant old man jokes, but his alcohol tolerance isn't one of them. You roll onto your side, propping your head up on one elbow. "I'm not hungover."

The almost-smile grows into something more assured. You let yourself enjoy the easiness of it. "Sure you're not, bub." The response is so warm you have to work at keeping your halfhearted pout.

Logan shifts, the mattress dipping as he sits up. "C'mon." He turns his head, looking at you from over his shoulder. "You'll feel better after you eat something."

The mention of food makes you aware of a hollowness you hadn't yet noticed. The thought of breakfast feels perfectly settling. You sit up with a smile, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. "You're not gonna make me eat weird hangover cures, are you?"

He pushes himself to stand. "You're going to have to take that chance."

There's no humor in his tone, and his back is to you so you can't read his expression, but something tells you it's safe to follow him out of his room, anyway.

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #xmen x reader #x men x reader #mcu x reader #marvel x reader #bsf!logan

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tac-the-unseen · 7 months ago

Text

Hannibal Lecter x Reader x Will Graham Headcannons

Fluff, Minor edits for formatting!

Involves: Cooking, sleeping, art, tattoos, piercings, dates, funny little ideas

•While Hannibal is mostly the one cooking when you, him, and will are in a kitchen together it get a bit chaotic.

•You're decent at cooking but Will is a hot mess compared to you and Hannibal (that doesn't mean he's a bad cook, just not as good as you guys are). But you and Hannibal have no problem guiding and teaching him. It's a great bonding experience for all of you.

•When Hannibal talks in the kitchen you and Will call him 'chef'. Hannibal loves it but will never admit to it.

•All of you share a bed but you also have separate bed in another room that is used when one of you really needs your sleep or space. None of you talk about but it has really saved your relationship...multiple times.

•Hannibal mostly uses it when he has an important event coming up and needs to get a full night's rest.

•Will mostly uses it when he feels like the world is caving in on him and needs to get away.

•You mostly use it when you're mad that them or need to work a late shift.

•Hannibal loves taking you and Will to museums and art galleries. He loves digging through the layers of the art to get to its over all meanings.

•Everyone knows Hannibal likes to play the 'sugar daddy' role but he appreciates when you or Will try and contribute with the costs.

•Will isn't a fan of pet names. He thinks it's weird and kind of degrading, but if you or Hannibal use one or two, he won't complain. Especially if it's to comfort him during an episode.

•That being said if you call him William he immediately thinks he's in trouble for something. If he's not in trouble he will pout about you using his full name.

•On the other hand Hannibal loves pet/nick names. If you call him darling or love he will internally swoon.

•Will doesn't like to be touched and you and Hannibal are not expections. He can deal with touch but he's not happy about it. If you touch him while he's having a break down he with scream, shout, and cry.

•You can get away with cuddling at night but just barely. Be careful about your hand placement.

•If Will is losing an argument he'll say 'nah huh' and Hannibal without a beat will say 'yeah huh' right back.

•You and Will have woken up after a nap to find Hannibal sketching you several times. If he finds either of you asleep he'll run to get his sketch book and maybe some tea and gets to work.

•Hannibal is 10,000% a bridezilla. If you could get married he would be a nightmare to deal with. He might call off the whole wedding if he doesn't get the flowers he wants. And the catering, dear god the catering. He got so upset he thought about just making the food himself...day of...

•If Hannibal ever gets sick he feel guilty because he feels like he should be the one taking care of you two, not that other way around.

•If you have tattoos or piercings Hannibal will just and stare that them. He wants to mesmerize every piece of you. In his spare time he finds him self drawing up concept art for more future tattoos. He doesn't show you any of them,but if you find one and end up getting it tattooed on you he might just have a heart attack.

•Very Interested in the tattoos/piercings healing process. Like he knows but he just likes to watch.

•Will likes to trace said tattoos and even considers getting a matching one with you!

•If Hannibal spots you and/or will getting overwhelmed overstimulated in public he hold your hand and whisper affirmations to you two.

Thanks for reading <3

#hannibal lecter #will graham #gn reader #hannigram #hannibal x reader #will graham x reader #Hannibal x reader x will #hannibal #nbc hannibal #slashers #boyfriends

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anotherblinder · 1 year ago

Text

The Ring

Summary || (Y/n) Shelby loses her ring and Thomas helps find it

Word Count || 1.2k

Pairing || Thomas Shelby x Reader

Warnings || There are no warnings

Notes || Hello! It's been a moment since i last posted but here i am with another fic! This one just came to mind while i was writing other fics and i just had to write it out! Super thanks again to @runnning-outof-time for proof reading! Go read her works she is absolutely amazing!

Overwhelming frustration surged through (Y/N) as she looked frantically around the house. Even the help was trying their best to look for it. (Y/n)’s wedding ring had gone missing. She swore up and down she never took it off her finger. It was a very uncommon occurrence for her to remove it. Which is why there was such a panic settled in her.

The whole house had been searched and it still hadn’t turned up. Feeling defeated, tears started to prick her eyes as she tried to remember where she could have lost it. Not even noticing when her husband Thomas had got home. Too preoccupied with trying to find her precious ring. The Shelby was beating herself up for losing it. Deep down she knew Tommy wouldn’t be upset and just buy her a new one. The thought of having a new one broke her heart. This one means so much to her, it was the one he gave her when they had nothing. How hard Tommy worked to get her that one when they had almost not a dime to their name. It meant so much to her, showed how much he loved her and worked to get her a decent ring at that time in their life. That’s why she was desperate to find it.

Seconds after he walked through the door, he could see the unusual panic in the house. Well, of his wife at least. Frances had told him the details of what’s been happening over the last few hours. Tommy let out a sigh before thanking the woman and going to his wife. He could see the frustration and panic written all over her. Carefully he walked over to her and placed his hand on her back.

“Darling, it’s just a ring, I can buy you a new one.” He reassured her

This seemed to be the wrong course of action. The tears she had been holding back started to fall down her cheeks. Pain was evident in her eyes as she looked at him. It made his heart clench at the sight, realizing what he said did not bring her any comfort at all.

“I don’t want another ring! I want that one!” She cried

At that she had moved away from Tommy and stood looking around the room. The man didn’t understand why it was such a big deal to her. It was just a ring, at least to him it was. They didn’t need a silly little piece of metal to show the love they have for each other. Though he didn’t understand, Tommy wanted too. It was clear it meant a great deal to her. Even if it wasn’t to him.

“What makes you upset about losing the ring? It’s just a ring.”

Tommy watched as she paused and turned to face him again. Taking the opportunity, he gently wiped the tears from her cheeks. He’d do anything to make his wife happy again, even if that means tearing up the house finding the ring she seems to love so much. Her lips trembled as she took a moment to gather her thoughts.

“It’s not just a ring, Tommy. You got that for me when we didn’t have this life. When you couldn’t even afford a ring like that. I know how hard you worked for it. Just to get something nice even when I said not to worry. It showed me how much you truly love me and how far you went to get it. That’s why I want that one, it’s full of so much love. I don’t want just some pretty ring you can buy now. I want the one you worked tirelessly to get.”

Tommy didn’t know what answer he was expecting but it wasn’t that. It made his love for her deepen as he heard her words. They pierced his heart. Sure, he worked hard for the ring but always felt his wife deserved a better ring. Hell, he even swore that when he made it, he’d get her a better ring. When he heard she lost it he thought it would be a good opportunity, but now? Now he just can’t bring himself to do that. Not when he knew she would hate whatever ring he bought her to replace the one she loves so dearly. Unknown to Tommy a smile had grown on his lips as (Y/n) explained why she didn’t want a new one. Leaning in he gave her a gentle kiss and pulled away to look at her.

“We’ll find your ring.” He said

“Thank you, Tommy.”

‘Where did you have it last?” Tommy asked

She paused and thought for a moment.

“I remember seeing it in the garden last.”

“Let’s go look there.”

Tommy took her hand and walked out to the garden. He knew deep down if they did not find it, he would buy one to replace it. She would not like it, but he could not let her walk around without a wedding ring either. Tommy is still a man who wants to keep his wife to himself. He held onto the hope that they would find it out here, somehow. The couple split up to cover more area of the garden. After searching one area Tommy came to her favourite part of the garden. It was covered with her favourite flowers with a beautiful bench he had made with a table to accompany it.

The spring winds blew around him while looking for the ring. First, he checked the table then the ground next to it. Both coming up empty. A glimmer in the bed of flowers caught his eye. Knowing what it was, he got down on one knee and picked the ring out of the flower bed. It amazed him how she could have come to love this old thing. But maybe he was starting to understand. Footsteps echoed to his left and he turned in that direction. (Y/n) stood a few feet from him and Tommy swore she never looked more beautiful. The sun is shining off her beautiful hair. Her eyes shining like priceless jewels, always full of love when she looked at him. Like he was the only thing in the world to her. Gently he picked a flower from the stem while standing to his feet.

Noticing him coming toward her, (Y/n) rushed over and he could see the hope on her face. Smiling Tommy held up the ring, watching the giant grin that formed on her face.

“You found it! Oh, thank you Tommy!”

Wordlessly he took her left hand and slid the ring back onto her finger. Right at home where it belonged. He placed a kiss over the ring, making blush rise to his brides' cheeks at the sudden show of affection. The smile on his face showed just how much he loves the woman right in front of him. Feeling the romantic mood in the air, both leaned in for a kiss. A soft, slow kiss showing the love they still held for each other after all these years. Pulling away, he placed the flower he picked earlier behind her ear and held out his arm.

“Let’s go inside and tell them you found it eh?”

“Let’s, then I can help with cleaning up the mess I made in the house.”

Thomas Shelby didn’t understand the love she held for that ring. Then, he understood, seeing the twinkle in her eyes and it shining off her finger after he found it. Thomas too, came to love that dingy old ring he bought years ago. Because it held all the love they held for each other. It’s truly as priceless as the woman he holds in his heart.

#thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders x reader #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby #peaky blinders imagine

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luckycharms1701 · 10 months ago

Note

Just read Mikey’s mating season, would write one for Raphael?

of course i will, anything for our boy in red! i will say that bay raph in particular is hard for me to write, so i hope this is decent

again, it's a lil spicyyy 🌶️ reader beware!

The first time it's brought up, Raph absolutely refuses to allow you to spend his season with him. Won't even have the conversation. Not even Mikey can convince him to just talk to you. It takes a literal act of God to force him into it- stranded in your apartment together while a late snowstorm rages, just as his season is starting.

Raph is naturally afraid that he will hurt you. But what he doesn't tell you is that he is afraid of the vulnerability. Raph's season is a highly emotional time for this passionate guy. He knows that he'll be more open- generally the first sign that his season is starting is when he admits something to one of his brothers that he doesn't actually want them to know. So forced into close quarters with you, alone- he's afraid of what he'll say, afraid that the depths of his feelings will drive you off.

He is shocked that when the time comes, his anger doesn't overwhelm him the way it normally does. Instead, it is his love for you that takes over. He finds himself feeling incredibly affectionate. He even chirps for you. (Once it's over he's mortified and you have to swear that you'll never tell anyone ever). The sadness he associates with this time? Again, all gone, because you're here.

The cuddling is real and it is. Frequent. Raph doesn't like to let you go and will often carry you around if you need to move from the bed. But good luck getting him to agree to let you leave the bed. He likes you there and he does not want you to leave. Surely he can go get whatever you need? You belong in his arms, as far as he is concerned.

So, Raph. Once you get him on board, he has rules. These are non-negotiable, because not following them could possibly result in him hurting you and that Will Not Happen. The biggest rule is that you cannot tease him. Teasing riles him up like nothing else and if he loses control and hurts you... no. It Won't Happen. He'll lock himself in a different room and take care of himself before he'll let you break one of his rules.

However, that doesn't mean that it's not a good time for both of you. It's hard at first, because Raph is so afraid to let go, but once he does? Once all that passion is set free and focused on you? It is absolutely some of the most intense lovemaking you've ever experienced in your life. And that's what it is- lovemaking.

All of Raph's affection and tender feelings take over, and he is intense but so gentle at the same time. When it's not mating season, he can be rough sometimes, although never more than you can handle. Not so during mating season. Even when he's pounding into you, driving you wild as you writhe under him, he doesn't hurt you. The only bruises you come out with are in the shape of his hands on your hips.

He is surprisingly quiet when he fucks you. Everything in him is so focused on you that he barely notices his own pleasure. He does chirp a lot, and when it happens the churring practically vibrates the whole bed. He prefers to draw sounds out of you instead. There is a certain dark chuckle he gives that warns you that you are about to get loud. He loves to quiet down so he can catch the nearly silent gasp that comes out of you when his fingers hit that spot deep in you.

He becomes an anxious mother hen when it's over. He hovers. It's a little maddening but he needs you to indulge. He needs to be able to make sure that you're okay, that he didn't hurt you. He is of course worried for no reason, you're fine. But he's still a little cuddly, so you enjoy indulging him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

head bonks: @yorshie @avery73 @justalotoffanfiction @thejudiciousneurotic

#bayverse raph #bayverse raph x reader #tmnt #talking tag #theory tag #mating season #say it together now: SOFT RAPH SOFT RAPH SOFT RAPH #sorry if you were expecting something a little spicier. that'll come don't you worry #i just can't see raph allowing himself to be rough when he's not in complete control #i'm not 100% happy with this but i never feel completely happy when i write raph #so i hope it's okay

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egg-but-with-style · 4 months ago

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Butcher ghost 3

1 2 3

You and Simon had been going on a date every week for the past month, and things couldn't be going better. The first date was a little awkward, he seemed a bit flustered, and you were too. After that though, you too hit it off.

He'd talk about butchering sometimes. How to get the best cut from any butcher store you go to, even though with him around you'd never need to go anywhere else.

You'd talk about your work and he'd listen intently. Looking at you with those big brown doe eyes. He was kind of like a dog in that respect. When you two were together he was right at your heel and never wanted to leave.

He made you feel special, like you were the only person on the planet he'd ever want to be with. He'd trace his finger on your stretch marks around your upper arms and shoulders whenever you two would wait in line somewhere.

It was maybe going just a little bit fast, and he was really observant, like he knew exactly what you wanted, but you were just happy to find someone who fit you so well.

Tonight would mark your 5th date with Simon. Of course you guys talked outside dates, but it always felt better when you could spend the day together.

You were standing outside his flat, the one above his butcher shop. Holding chocolate in cheese in a little grocery bag, he had said he had a little fondue machine he got from a very thankful customer he always wanted to try out. Plus who didn't love chocolate and cheese?

You knocked gently on his door, noting the absence of a doorbell. You heard him walking to the door, a man that big always made noise. Then you assumed he stubbed his toe based off the muffled "fuck" he just uttered, then he opened the door and smiled at you.

"You look good luv, I mean you always do, but especially now." He looked at you like you hung the stars above his head. You didn't know how he could get this deep this fast, but you were happy, and he was happy. "Oh stop it, I knew what you meant. You're looking very handsome too." He blushed just a little, or atleast you think he just did, he had rosacea so sometimes it was hard to tell. He then motioned for you to come in. "C'mon, it's getting cold out there."

You did as he said, stepping into his flat. It was decently big, you assumed being a butcher and having your own shop would probably pay enough to cover rent.

You went over to the kitchen counter and set down the cheese and chocolate near, what you assumed to be the fondue machine. He came over and plugged the machine in, confirming your assumption, he then picked up the chocolate that your brought. "I hate to admit it, but I got a real bad sweet tooth. Almost as bad as my taste for meat." He refrained from saying you satiated both his cravings. You giggled. Everything about Simon seemed to contradict his size sometimes.

"I do too, I also like cheese, like the little baby bells? I love those. Man, I should've got those for the fondue."

"There's always next time."

You smiled. Feeling that warm feeling spread in your chest. He wanted to invite you over again. He was just too good to be true. You realized you had kinda zoned out and stared at him for a minute, so you spoke up, trying to break the awkward silence.

"Yeah, next time." You looked away for just a second, his gaze could be a tiny bit overwhelming sometimes. He let out a sigh of content, then put the stuff in the fondue machine. Watching it melt in the pot. It was actually a pretty sight, colors swirling around.

He then went to his fridge and pulled out strawberries. Placing them down on the counter, along with some skewers. "Dig in." He hated to admit it but some part of him did like watching you eat, like right now as you skewered one of the strawberries, placed it in the molten pot of fondue. Watching you blow on it to cool down and harden, and once it did, you took a bite. Then you looked back at him, a bit confused. "Aren't you gonna eat some too?" He kept looking at you until he noticed some chocolate on the side of your lips. Which he wiped off with his finger, then licked it.

That was way hotter then you were expecting. "Yeah..yeah I will." You just giggled.

After you two were done with the fondue, with slightly burnt tongues because neither of you were patient enough to wait for it to cool. He suggested a movie, to which you agreed to, and the implications.

Now you to were sitting on the couch, watching some movie you put on without looking. He was so warm, his arm pressing you into his side, your shoulder laying in the crook of his neck.

It felt so peaceful, so right. Like the rest of the world could fuck off. As long as you too got to stay right here in this moment. Eventually he got distracted from the movie, instead looking at you.

His fingers moved on their own, cupping your cheek. He seemed so enthralled as he stroked his thumb up and down. Eventually putting his lips to yours.

His lips were a little chapped, so were yours honestly, but whatever bad texture there was, was made up for by action. His tongue slipping into your mouth, the lingering taste of fondue. It was slow, careful, like a pair of virgins exploring eachother, trying to make sense of what it meant to be intimate.

Then your bladder protested and ruined the moment, you sighed and Simon got off you, worried. "Are you okay? What's wrong?" He was so sure he didn't do anything wrong. You just shook your head, alleviating his fears. "No it's not your fault, I just...I gotta pee." He looked instantly relieved, was he always this wound tight? "Oh, okay just making. The um..the bathroom is down the hall to the left"

With a small noise of disapproval, he let go of you, but he knew you'd come back. "Be quick, or else" he said in that tone that made you know he was joking, which took a while to get for the record. You just scoffed and rolled your eyes "I will, don't worry."

You headed down the hallway where he pointed, you reached the end and saw two doors. He said the bathroom was on the left but..you were kinda curious. Simon was so kind, loving, you felt his phantom touch on your skin, the lingering taste of his tongue in your mouth, and as much as you wanted to get back as soon as possible, you couldn't help yourself.

You took a quick glance back down the hallway, he seemed really into the movie you put on so you figured a quick snoop wouldn't hurt.

You slowly, quietly opened the door and looked inside. Seemed normal, then you tip toed in, taking a quick glance around, it seemed pretty normal. A bed, a night stand, a lamp, and a couple book shelves. Though he had a knife collection, made sense for a butcher. You turned to leave the room, feeling a little bit bad you invaded his privacy, but as you went to the door you saw something on the wall.

Photos. So many fucking photos. They weren't of your dates, oh no. They were taken of you while you were going about your day, usually around early morning or dusk. You eating breakfast, or going to work. You leaving work and walking home, you going out with your friends. Most of them focusing on you face, or your stomach, some were even dedicated just to your stretch marks, rolls and curves, All of the pictures having been taken from atleast a hundred feet away.

You should've been terrified. You should've been feeling your heartbeat out of your chest, you should've been running out of the house. Escaping and reporting it to the police.

But you weren't. You were just in awe. It felt.. romantic in a way. The photos, the angles, like he saw you as something above the normal person. It felt like worship.

He was calling you now, but you stayed put. What was wrong with you? Why were your cheeks flushed instead of pale and drained of blood from fear? Why did your heart soar instead of drop to your stomach?

Why did you smile when he came in and saw you looking at them? "It's..it's beautiful, Simon." He looked stunned, you were stunned too. You didn't think you were sick like this.

You should've seen a stalker when you looked at him, but all you saw was your loving boyfriend. "You..you like them? You aren't..scared?" You just shook your head. Taking his hand and giggling. You felt some shame, but all of it floated away as you felt his warm hand against yours.

You were so happy he liked you this much. To the point where he'd clearly spent hours following you. It made you feel more loved then you ever had, and you'd tell him as much. "You really like me, huh? Like really, really like me." He just nodded. He really wasn't sure what to say.

He was trying to see if you were lying, but you were so genuine. He thought he was gonna have to kidnap you if you saw the photos but instead you were hugging him and putting your mouth to his ear "I love you, Simon." He hands found a place on your lower back. He let out a deep breath he didn't know he'd been holding. Pressing his forehead onto yours. "I love you too, my girl." You're his. His girl. It made your heart jump up and down in excitement.

"You don't hate me, right? You aren't gonna run away if I don't tie you down?" He had pulled back just enough to see your face, and your elated expression. Watching you shake your head

"I literally just said I love you. You don't have to tie me down to get me to stay, but..I'd like it." You giggled, being a slight tease. He groaned in response. Relaxing at last. You were just as crazy as him. "Maybe another day, tonight I just wanna..go slow." And for the first time in his life, he did.

After that day, you and Simon were even closer then ever. About a year later, he got down on one knee and asked you to marry him. To which you said yes. Now the butcher shop was run by two big freaks. You both couldn't be happier.

Authors note: AHHHH okay, first series done!!! In just this week I've learned a lot about writing and I think I'm feeling some type of improvement?? I know this series kinda sucked sometimes, and I might come back one day to redo, better then ever, but I think it was decent for a first time. Also, yeah, readers a freak. (Like everyone here) I have another WIP I should probably get through, but then I might start another series, who knows. Anyway, thank you for reading, and bye bye!!!!!!

#chubby reader #plus size reader #tall reader #simon ghost riley #cod x reader #butcher!simon #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #finally done

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ashdreams2023 · 1 year ago

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Hi! Am new here, when you have the time, can you write lucius malfoy x crybaby housewife, like shes very sensitive and overthinks about making him upset but in reality lucius finds her little actions and mannurisms cute and lovable? (Ik its very specific and i have horrible grammar)

Been a hot minute since I wrote for hp thanks for the ask!

Lucius Malfoy x crybaby housewife (sensitive)

First off this marriage was arranged so you got that going on

He can tell immediately that you feel extremely nervous and just want to make everybody proud and don’t want to upset him

He finds in endearing

"Beautiful beautiful girl relax, it’s only a few days in France, I will be back in one piece"

You worry too much it makes him worried

Sends you lots of gifts, like what’s your favorite Candy that makes your face eyes light up with excitement?

You will find boxes delivered to the house till you’re sick of it

Doesn’t like to see your tears but understands how overwhelming it may be to try to contain all your emotions

Tries to never raise his voice at you even if he’s not in the brightest of moods

Your little acts of kindness to him do leave him breathless at times though

"What do you mean you fed the peacocks and picked all the fallen feathers to make pillows?!"

"I knew you’ll hate I’m so sorry-" "No! I love it!"

He really likes to spoil you, so expect things like taking a day or two off from work to just spend extra time with when he notices you’ve been a little gloomy all alone at home

Goodness even the house elves have to make sure you don’t overwhelm yourself when something doesn’t go as planned

If you remember the small things about him, the things no one really pays attention too, then he’s all yours and no one can say otherwise

Makes sure to spend birthdays together, no matter how busy he is

"You don’t have to do this, what about work and-" "stop hurting your pretty little head with such nonsense"

Actually tries to be decent to the house elves just because they seem to be the only company you have

One time you tried to surprise him at work and he just couldn’t let you leave because in his own words "you came all this way to surprise and you expect me to let you go away this easily my dear?"

The way you smile when he comes back to the mansion, it just lights up his entire day, no matter how shitty is was

Absolutely adores your antics and takes pride in seeing you being the center of attention

"Am i making a good impression?"

"You’re perfection it self"

#lucius malfoy x y/n #lucius malfoy fanfiction #lucius malfoy x you #lucius malfoy x reader #imagine #lucius malfoy #harry potter oneshot #harry potter requests #lucius my beloved

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satoruarchive · 14 days ago

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(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) TODAY’S CONTENTS : 16+ / cursing / reader is suspicious!.. / a little bit of angst(?) / fem!reader / reader is scared of bugs / reader is described shorter than satoru / satoru’s kindaaa a bitch / let me know if i missed any warnings <3 ★ ˎˊ˗ series m.list ★ ˎˊ˗ wc : 3.7k (how did we go from 2.5k to..)

“tokyo jujutsu high..” you lean back against your seat in the train as an overwhelming feeling takes over you. this is going to be your new life — as a jujutsu sorcerer. this is what you signed up for, so no take backsies, right? even so, you can’t shake off the lingering feeling within you that tells you today is going to be much more than just a.. ‘long day’

“Excuse me, can you stop your mumbling?” your head snapped towards the sound, a look of embarrassment washing over you, realizing you’ve been talking to yourself like an idiot.

“oh, my apologies.” you force a smile at the old man who had been clearly trying to sleep, silently cursing yourself for choosing the worst possible seat — it doesn’t look like there are any decent ones, now that you look around.

“whew, everyone on this train looks real sketchy..” and you’re back to mumbling to yourself. i can’t even get my head straight right now.. the overburning feelings of excitement and stress cling to your heart. this is a big day for you, isn’t it?

you were told you were the replacement for some.. ‘crazy guy’ who slaughtered an entire village and left the jujutsu society. you wonder how his teammates feel about that — are they mad about what he did? sad that he left? or worse, scared of him even? no — maybe all at once. “sounds like a bunch of bullshit though..” you sub-consciously mutter. i mean, who is crazy enough to kill the people they swore to protect?

you can’t help but stare out of the window, a state of frenzy taking over you. determination flows through your body, you’re ready for this, these are just the few small steps you need to a—

“attention passengers,” a voice echoes through the train “we’ve arrived at tokyo — may all passengers please depart carefully, i repeat, we’ve arrived at-“

a frustrated groan leaves your lips, maybe you did want the train ride to last just a little longer. the boost of confidence you had early had quickly seemed to dissipate into thin air. come on, you’ve got this..

despite the hesitating thoughts, you don’t waste another second without arising from your seat, nearly stumbling onto your belongings. a sheepish apology quickly slips out of your mouth in a desperate attempt to not make any further noise while leaving your seat, lurking behind the stretching line of people exiting the train.

the almost never-ending line slowly becomes smaller and smaller until you’ve finally reached the train gate. as soon as you walk out and enter the train station, you’re greeted with the beautiful scenery of tokyo. it’s your first time experiencing the grace of such a serene place in real time — it’s almost distracting, really, the sound of birds chirping by and people bustling everywhere — hold on, something smells a little..

“hey, i’m here.” a hand waves over your face, causing you to flip around quickly and you’re greeted by the sight of a girl with short brown hair and a cigarette sitting in between her lips — so that’s where the smell is coming from. “oh.” you eye her uniform, easily recognising the jujutsu tech uniform that bared similarities to yours.

“wow, you’re pretty.” you attempt to ignore the smoke hitting your face by throwing in a compliment, miserably failing as you slip out a couple of coughs— ahem. . you clear your throat.

the girl notices your discomfort quickly. “sorry.” she removes the cigarette from her mouth, letting the tip burn and the end falling to the ground.

“no, no, its fine.” you shake your hands, sighing in relief when you finally taste some fresh air. “so, you’re shoko right?” a curious gaze displays your features.

“mhm, i am shoko.” she confirms your statement. “Mr. Yaga sent me to escort you, he rambled quite a bit about you.” shoko briefly glances your way as you subtly nod at her words, gesturing you to follow her. you wonder what Mr. Yaga could have possibly said about you — hopefully good things.

“so you’re replacing suguru, huh?” she says it almost as a fact and not a question. honestly, she is also a little unsure about the replacement like satoru— maybe not as worried as him, but she still expresses a sense of uneasiness — she is suguru’s friend too after all. . or was.

you haven’t even noticed that she’s talking to you, her words entering into one ear and out of the other. you’re inattentively staring straight ahead, mind too occupied with thoughts to notice her voice. your ears are ringing with theories about what could of seemingly caused their friend to do such an insane 360 — or maybe im thinking about it too much, he’s not what im after anyway..

“heeyy? you there?”

“oh, yeah, i am.” your response came off a little delayed. damn it, focus. you shake your head, trying to get rid of the lingering thoughts, it’s not the time to let your head get swayed.

“so. . is smoking even allowed in there?” you ask with a half-hearted snicker, a desperate attempt to save conversation.

“no, but if you don’t get caught then it never happened.” she shrugs. “not much of a smoker, are you?” the teasing glint in her voice makes you a little embarrassed, a nervous smile bracing your lips. “no, not really haha.”

“nothing to be embarrassed about, im just poking you.” her reassurance made you sigh in relief, perhaps this wasn’t going to be as difficult as you assumed it was.

“actually.. i wanted to ask something.” shoko turns her head in your direction, awaiting your question expectantly. there’s an unsure expression on your face, contemplating your words.

“why did your teammate-“ the words are about to roll off your tongue when suddenly a strange noise causes you to choke on your words — ring ring.

well isn’t that just great.

“sorry, gimmie a sec.” shoko looks at you apologetically as she takes her flip-phone out of her pocket. she checks the contact name, satoru. you managed to take a peep in time to see who’s calling.

the name leaves your throat a little dry. satoru gojo — from the gojo family. his existence itself makes curses quiver. a sense of rage boils up within you, hearing the name of the gojo clan itself makes your teeth grit.

your eyes narrow for a moment as you faintly hear his voice on the other side of the phone, words being exchanged. “stop calling, im almost there.” shoko hung up, her attention diverting back to you. she doesn’t miss the scowl on your face. “something wrong?”

“oh, no, nothing.” you snap out of your trance before your kettle could pop, your lips curling upward. “who’s ‘satoru’?” you fake a curious look. play dumb — that’s it.

“you don’t know satoru gojo?” shoko lets out a humorous laugh, faltering a little when she sees the serious look on your face. “he’s from one of the big clans, the strongest sorcerer of our generation, they say.” she simply shrugged. “don’t worry about it, he’s all talk, no bark.” she gives you a reassuring look, not what you would of expected from a gojo clan member — but perhaps you should take her word for it, for now.

theres a strangely comforting silence as you follow behind her, you could feel the air getting chilly and shivers vibrating through your body. shoko doesn’t seem to be affected much by it. maybe i should’ve brought a coat.

“anyways, we’re at the outskirts of tokyo now.” you squint your eyes, seeing a big building a few feet away. “well, you’re officially a sorcerer now. its not as exciting as it sounds, though.” she gives you a teasing look.

“i know that.” you roll your eyes. you both take a few more steps, finally arriving at the gate. behind the gate you spot multiple buildings. you have to stand still and collect your breath for a moment, so this is jujutsu tech.

“woah, it’s huge.” of course you knew a place with sorcerer’s from one of the biggest clans wasn’t going to be any joke, but it’s hard not to be swayed by such a breath-taking place.

“come on, lets go.” she takes your hand and walks through the gate. you closely inspect every sight on your way. wow, this place was pretty. you’re almost jealous of it’s radiance.

you’re taken to a bridge where shoko spots a familiar lean figure slouched against the railing with a sulky pout. the chalk-white hair that fell over his eyes, having to push them back with his long fingers and you almost get a view of the famous six eyes the gojo family is known for — those serene blue eyes that can put you in a daze with a look — wait, are you in a daze?

“not you too..” shoko slams her face causing you to snap out of your daydreams in a panicked oh! “im going to hide your face with a cardboard box one day, i swear.” a nasty side-eye was sent satoru’s way.

you thought him ‘charming people with one look’ (such big talk!) was mere gossip amongst the crowd. i mean, he couldn’t be that beautiful right?

you’ve never been more wrong.

“huuuuuh? so it’s my fault now?” satoru crosses his arms, a pout visible on his face. shoko already knows his ego is already swelling with pride, ‘cause he just can’t control the fact that he’s oh-so beautiful, can he?

“oh. . uh.” you finally realize his tall figure looming over you, taking a few steps back as he sizes you up, those piercing cold eyes were antagonising, anything but friendly. resentment runs through your body — it really is him, satoru gojo.

“this is stupid.” satoru let out a huff, pulling away and crossing his arms. “we don’t need a replac—“ satoru freezes in place when he catches the striking scowl on shoko’s face. “whatever. it’s ‘nice’ to meet you.” how much more pettier could he get?

“wellllll, ahem.” you let out a cough, trying to compose yourself. “my apologies. you’re satoru right?” you ask with a friendly smile on your face, but it’s almost like he can see through it with the way he eyes you. as if his icy orbs were poking right through your skull, did a shiver just run down your spine?

“it’s gojo to you.” a huff escaped his mouth and he turned away, refusing to even look at you, as if he was destined to hate you the exact moment you met — well, at least that’s something you both have in common.

shoko could only smack her forehead with her palm. when suguru joined sorcery, him and satoru didn’t hit it off immediately, it took them a while to get used to eachother’s company and get over their silly rivalry.

yet she has this strange feeling it might not be the same with you.

“ignore him, he’s just been a big whiny bitch about about the idea of a replacement.” shoko places a hand over your shoulder, ignoring the offended look satoru gave her, he was no ‘whiny bitch’ about it.. okay, maybe he was… just a little.

“speaking off..” you finally take your chance. “why’d your old teammate leave?” as soon as the words spilled out of your throat, you quickly notice how a cold tension develops in the air. you take a glance at satoru, oh. he doesn’t look very pleased you brought that up. .

“what’s it to you?” he snickers, tone comes off with an edge of hurt. he can’t say he’s over it, that he moved on, that would be a blatant lie. the reoccuring images of that day play in his head, not a single flaw in the vision of that scene — and it hurts.

you almost feel bad for bringing it up, since it clearly wasn’t the. . ‘right time’. you rub your hands together, its cold. was it always this chilly out here?

“i was just ask—“ “well, it’s none of your damn business.”

you can almost feel his glare, as if it was stabbing daggers right through your mind. teeth clenching, you hate that look, it’s just like them all. just like every other g—

“we’ll talk about it later.” shoko finally says something, you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. “im going to show her around for a bit, satoru. bye.” shoko waved as she quickly pulled you away from the bridge. phew.

“so i definitely killed the mo-“ you’re immediately cut off. “don’t bring that up in front of him, god.” shoko laughs. “it’s a sensitive topic for him.”

shoko looked up for a brief moment, exhaling. “suguru — he was our old teammate. they both were practically inseparable, i’m guessing you know he left and all.” you take in her words, suguru geto, of course you already knew who he was.

“im guessing you also wont tell me why he left.” you laugh, yet a curious gaze still present, hoping to hit the jackpot. “well.” shoko lets out a quiet hum and you’re kept on your toes, anticipating, as if watching a love confession in a movie. come on. .

“why do you wanna know so bad?” ah, shit. you almost let a groan leave your lips, you knew it was never going to be that easy, yet it’s just as frustrating.

“im just a little curious, from the things i heard he did some prettyyy crazy things, y’know?” woah, good save. “i can’t argue with you on that.” shoko laughs bitterly. “ill tell you some other time, though. its your first day here, let me tour you for real.”

you nod at her words, trailing behind her as she leads you to a hallway. you take a good look around — must be the dorms.

“so this is where the dorms are.” you look to the direction shoko points at. “your dorm is the one on the right, next to.. satoru’s.” she gives you an apologetic look. “theres no other rooms with essentials as of now, hope he wont be a big pain in the ass for you.”

you acknowledge her words, slowly moving to the room, paying a lot more attention to satoru’s door than yours — there was nothing special about it, yet you can’t shake the feeling that everything’s going a bit.. too smooth. your dorm being right next to his is like a lottery ticket, it’ll make everything much easier, but it’s almost too good to be true — or maybe you’re just overthinking it.

aside from that, it’s also not the best thing in the world. it’ll be perfect for your mission, and yet one day you might just end up punching that arrogant expression on his face from irritation — a double edged sword, they say.

“you can do whatever you want with the room, you listening?” you turn back to shoko, giving her a half-hearted smile. “oh, yeah, definitely.” shoko gives you a suspicious look. “ill take your word for it.. anyway, Mr. Yaga wants to see us tomorrow for a mission so you can prepare for that.”

“wow, mission already? it’s not a piece of cake, huh?” you joke. “consider yourself lucky, a lot of people have it way worse.” she teases you. “im going to go back to my own room — 303 if you’ve got any questions.” she gives you a pat on the shoulder before heading to the third floor, leaving you with the key to your dorm.

you slowly approach the door, finding yourself inspecting the door carefully as if something might jump out and hurt you, paranoid much.

rest assured, there was nothing set up. (obviously. .) you’re fiddling with your keys, about to open the door—

footsteps. the noise causes your ears to perk up immediately, turning around in a defensive stance to see whoever it is— oh.

“woah.” satoru raises his hand in the air defensively. “you ‘tryna to kill me or something?” redness spreads across your face as you immediately stand up straight. “im not armed, that was just a reflex.” you shoot him a glare. clearly, both of you were still petty about earlier.

“you were reaaaaalll nice with shoko huh?” suddenly he’s leaning in close. too close. is he onto you? is your journey over right here right now? maybe you were stupid for thinking you co- “there’s no mistake about it..” he scratches his chin.

“what?” you clench your fist in annoyance, its like your patience disappears whenever it comes to him.

“you’ve got a bug in your hair, do you even wash it?”

. . . .

“wait, what?” a rush of panic washes over you. “where is it!? wait, gojo!” you look up to him with a pitiful expression, only to be met with a teasing smirk. “ohhh, so you’re scared of bugs.” he’s saying it as if he’s keeping tabs on you or something. . he definitely is.

“i was just playing with you.” he shrugs nonchalantly. “seriously, how are you gonna fight a curse if you’re scared of a ‘lil ole bug?” oh this little tease.

“you’re seriously. asking to be punched, gojo.” you attempt to come off as intimidating as you can. unfortunately for you, you’re dealing with the cockiest man on this planet.

“what happened to ‘yer nice little demeanour huuuh? or does it just not apply t’me?” he’s easily towering over you, you don’t know why he’s so.. adamant to get to you. every word that comes out of his mouth — god, give me patience.

“bold of you to assume you deserve a single ounce of kindness.” ouch. the exasperated look on his face proved he did not take your comment lightly.

“oh yeah? don’t get arrogant just ‘cause you happen to get picked as a replacement.” there’s a strange venom in his words, you can’t tell whether it's targeted towards you. just why did he have to be so hard to read?

“just what are you so mad about, that you have to come bother someone else about it?” you bite back. “oh, yeah, me mad, suuuuureee. as if you didn’t look like you wanted to kill me a few seconds ago.” he retorts right back at you.

this isn’t how it’s supposed to go. you’re supposed to be nice to him and gain his trust — but that lingering anger in your heart is taking over you, the same coldness you loathe feeling — that cold look in his eyes, its just like them all. it’s like your feelings are speaking for you, as if your heart is pouring itself out.

present you would laugh at the fact that just an hour ago, you thought you’d be able to befriend him with ease. like a walk in the park, you’ll shoot him a kind smile just like you did with shoko, compliment his eyes maybe, yet it seems like you were destined to be enemies at first sight.

“and you know what? maybe you should be careful, ‘cause i will.” you shoot back, but satoru’s obviously not taking your threat seriously — ‘what could a wimp like her do to me?’

“oh please.” he grabs the collar of your shirt. “if you want me to be the last thing you see ill make it happen right n-“

“satoru, what are you doing?” a stern voice is heard from behind satoru and he immediately pulls away. you immediately recognise the man as the principle — Masamichi Yaga.

“nothinnggggg.” what a liar, you almost want to rat him out but technically it’s your fault as well. . .

“you’re the new student, aren’t you?” the man approaches you while satoru quietly observes. “yeah-“ your voice comes out in a stutter. “i am..”

“it’s your first day here, and you’re already fighting with that lunatic.” a grumble escaped his lips. his tone held a sense of aloofness, he doesn’t seem like someone who plays around. “don’t let me find this behaviour continuing.”

“but he started it f-“ you don’t even have time to respond and he’s leaving. your first encounter with the principle and its great, wow.

“but sirrrr, but heee..!” satoru mocks you from the side, and you have half a mind to not kick him in the face right there.

“im done arguing with an immature jerk like you.” you declare confidently, knowing you’re just as immature as him. “woooooah, look at miss victim being the bigger person, aren’t you sooo admir-“ by the time he’s done talking, you’ve already slammed the door to your room shut, causing him to flinch a little.

“gee, she’s ‘annoyin alright.” satoru opens the door to his own room with his key. walking inside and flopping onto the bed immediately. the AC is turned on in a beat. satoru can feel his mind relax as the cool air hits his body.

today’s tiring. there’s a lot of new unwanted thoughts swarming his mind, many of them being you.

in fact — ever since he heard about you replacing suguru, he’s been unable to help the hatred that filled his heart. is it hatred? or is he scared? the thought of someone else taking suguru’s place, for some reason, it irks him.

“maaaan, feelings are just as annoying as her.” satoru grumbled, resting his head on his arms. “i swear ‘somethin about her rubs me the wrong way.”

he’s not taking himself too seriously. he’s probably just thinking about it too much because he’s overwhelmed. he’ll take a nap and forget about it soon enough. (if only he followed his ‘divine intuition’.)

you, on the other hand, are quite literally panicking. unable to even lay down on your bed. you’re staring at the wall in disbelief, you’ve made it so far, you can’t afford to mess up now. but that look in his eyes — it brings back too many memories you’ve been wanting to forget.

maybe he was just playing around when you were fighting, but you’ve realised it now. he really can kill you if he wanted to. it makes you doubt yourself — if you even hold a fraction of his power. you knew it was never going to be easy, but it makes you wonder.

“just how will i assassinate gojo satoru?”

(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) TAGLIST : @kuroogguk @ilovelinkk @kr1nqu @creamflix (open!)

★ ˎˊ˗ a/n : first chapter !! uh funfact reader was not suppose to have ulterior motives and the story was just suppose to be a simple rivals to lovers thing but while reader was talking to shoko i was like, why not give her a cliche assassin story 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ hope you enjoyed reading!!

#♡ tell me why your hands are cold #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk series #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #♡ ayra’s works #♡ div : khaer

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imaginesforfandom · 11 months ago

Text

Unforeseen Love

i may be in my logan howlett era right now, but it's fine! just means some nice little fics for my fav X-Man!

Logan/James Howlett x Reader

They/them pronouns used!!

Summary: While on a mission with Logan, Y/N gets seriously hurt, leading to them being in the medical bay for several days as Hank helps them recover. Although Y/N and Logan had never gotten along, Y/N is surprised when Logan sticks by their side throughout their entire recovery. This ends in a heartfelt, sweet and loving kiss shared by the two!

Unforeseen Love

Logan Howlett, better known as Wolverine, grumbled under his breath as he and Y/N made their way through the dense forest. The tension between them was palpable, and it seemed like sparks could fly any moment. They had despised each other from day one, an inexplicable clash of personalities that neither could overcome.

Little did they know, a deeper connection existed beneath the surface. Y/N had a mutant ability akin to Charles Xavier's, but instead of delving into the thoughts of others, they could sense emotions. Logan, however, had mastered the art of keeping his feelings locked away, a shield that even Y/N couldn't penetrate.

The mission they were on required stealth and precision, a trait Logan excelled in. He led the way, his adamantium claws unsheathed, eyes scanning the surroundings with uncanny precision. Y/N followed, their senses alert but wary of the man they begrudgingly worked alongside.

As they moved deeper into the mission, the unexpected happened. A sudden ambush from an unforeseen enemy left Y/N injured and struggling. Logan's fierce protective instincts kicked in, and he fought with a newfound intensity to ensure Y/N's safety. In the midst of the chaos, a blade grazed Y/N's side, leaving them incapacitated.

The pain hit Y/N like a tidal wave, and Logan's gruff voice called out their name in concern. The world around them blurred as consciousness slipped away.

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When Y/N awoke, the sterile scent of the X-Men's medical facility filled their senses. The pain in their side was dulled, thanks to the advanced healing technology. Blinking against the harsh lights, they groggily turned their head to find Logan sitting nearby, his expression etched with worry.

"Finally awake, huh?" Logan's tone was gruff, but Y/N caught a glimmer of concern in his eyes.

"What happened?" Y/N asked, feigning ignorance to the emotions swirling around them.

Logan hesitated, his usual tough exterior momentarily softened. "You got yourself hurt. It was touch and go for a bit, but Hank patched you up."

Despite the pain, Y/N couldn't help but notice the sincerity in Logan's voice. Their ability to sense emotions hinted at something more, something beyond the animosity that had defined their relationship.

"You were worried about me," Y/N stated, almost as if testing the waters.

Logan grunted, looking away as if annoyed by the revelation. "Don't get used to it. I just didn't want to babysit a rookie."

Y/N smirked, realizing that perhaps there was more to Logan Howlett than met the eye. As they lay in the medical bay, recovering from their injuries, the unspoken connection between them began to unravel. Maybe, just maybe, beneath the layers of resentment, there was a flicker of something else—an understanding that transcended words.

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The days in the medical bay blurred together for Y/N. Their injuries were healing, but what surprised them even more was Logan's constant presence. He would leave only to return with food, grumbling about the lack of decent grub around the X-Mansion. As much as Logan tried to maintain his tough exterior, there was an unspoken tenderness in the way he cared for Y/N.

As Y/N lay on the medical bay bed on the third day, a subtle shift in the air caught their attention. It wasn't the usual mix of irritation and restraint that emanated from Logan. Instead, an overwhelming sense of love and concern filled the room. Y/N furrowed their brow, confused by this unexpected surge of emotion.

Logan entered the room, carrying a tray of food. His eyes met Y/N's, and for a moment, the gruff exterior wavered. It was as if a floodgate had opened, allowing Y/N to sense the depth of Logan's emotions.

"What's with the sudden outpouring of affection, Howlett?" Y/N teased, trying to hide the vulnerability that was bubbling up within them.

Logan scowled, seemingly caught off guard by the question. "I ain't showin' affection. Just making sure you don't die on us."

Y/N chuckled, but there was a knowing glint in their eyes. "You can't fool me, Logan. I can feel it, you know. The concern, the… love."

Logan's expression tightened, and he looked away. The barrier he had meticulously built around his emotions had crumbled, and there was no denying the truth anymore.

"I don't do this mushy crap," Logan grumbled, but his voice lacked the usual conviction.

Y/N sat up, a determination in their eyes. "Logan, you can't hide from me anymore. I can feel what you're feeling, and it's okay. More than okay."

Logan sighed, a rare vulnerability surfacing in his gaze. "Damn it, kid. You're messin' with my head."

Y/N reached out, gently cupping Logan's face. "Maybe it's time we stop fighting each other and admit what's been staring us in the face all along."

Logan's defenses crumbled further as Y/N closed the distance between them. Their lips met in a sweet, lingering kiss, a silent acknowledgment of the emotions that had been hidden for too long. In that moment, the unspoken bond between them deepened, transcending the animosity that had defined their relationship.

As they pulled away, Logan's gruff exterior softened, and Y/N couldn't help but smile. Sometimes, it took a brush with vulnerability to uncover the hidden truths. Love had a way of breaking through even the toughest of walls, and for Logan and Y/N, it was the beginning of a new chapter—one filled with understanding, acceptance, and a love that had finally been acknowledged.

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i'm pretty sure i'm in love with him.... but that's okay! also, i love how Logan is also an Albertan 😎💪

#logan howlett #james howlett #wolverine #logan howlett x reader #james howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett x you #james howlett x you #wolverine x you #logan howlett x y/n #james howlett x y/n #wolverine x y/n #logan howlett imagine #james howlett imagine #wolverine imagine #logan howlett oneshot #james howlett oneshot #wolverine oneshot #x-men

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