#i should had changed the white to red but it's too late now...

[moomuzan]

⋆·˚ ༘ *𝖇𝖚𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖕𝖎𝖑𝖊

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘ���ɪꜱ they find you again, after all this time

but something‘s different,

you are no longer human

ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ sanemi , giyuu , obanai

The battlefield was a graveyard of still bodies and whispers, the air thick with the metallic tang of blood and ash. Casting its cold, pale light over the ruin, the moon hung low as Sanemi, a man made of storms, stood at its center. His sword was heavy in his hand, a weight that pulled at his very soul, though he refused to release it. Something else weighed on him—something darker, deeper. A presence.

And then you stepped into the light.

At first, he thought it was a trick of his war-addled mind. His breath hitched, sharp and involuntary, his heart stumbling over itself in its chest. It was you—your silhouette unmistakable, the curve of your face seared into his memory. But as you moved closer, the truth unraveled with cruel clarity.

You were not you anymore.

Perfect in its monstrosity, your skin shimmered with a cold, unnatural beauty, pale as death. Your once-warm eyes glowed red, the color of fresh blood, devoid of everything he had known. And you reeked—of death, of Muzan, of betrayal so vile it made his stomach churn.

Sanemi froze, the world narrowing to just you. Memories rushed forward like a flood he could not stop. The way you used to smile at him, tentative and soft, as though you could see the fractured pieces of him and still chose to stay. The way your hand once lingered on his arm, grounding him when his anger threatened to consume him. The way your voice, so achingly gentle, had once cut through the storms raging in his heart.

But that was gone. All of it.

Now, you were a weapon. Cold, deadly, beautiful. His masterpiece.

"Sanemi," you breathed, though it wasn’t your voice, not really. It was too sweet, too sharp, laced with something cruel that made his skin crawl. "I thought you’d be happy to see me. After all, you thought I was dead, didn’t you?"

His knuckles turned white around his sword, the leather of the hilt creaking beneath his grip. "You are dead," he spat, his voice rough and trembling. "Don’t you dare use her face, her body, her voice. Don’t you dare speak to me like that."

Almost curious, almost mocking, you tilted your head. "Dead?" you echoed, your lips curving into a smile that wasn’t yours. "If I’m dead, then why does my heartbeat still haunt you? Why do you still dream of me?"

Barely perceptible, but it was there, a crack in his otherwise unyielding armor that made the Hashira flinch. You had always been able to see through him, to peel back the layers of anger and grief he wrapped himself in. That hadn’t changed. But now, it wasn’t kindness in your eyes—it was something darker, something broken.

"You should have let me go," you said, stepping closer, your voice soft but cutting, like a knife sliding between his ribs. "But you didn’t, did you? You held on. Even now, you can’t let go."

Sanemi’s chest ached, a sharp, twisting pain that spread like fire. He wanted to scream at you, to tell you that you were wrong, but the words caught in his throat. Because you weren’t wrong. Of course, he hadn’t let go. How the hell could he?

And now, here you were. A ghost, a demon, a nightmare made flesh.

"I’ll kill you," he spat, yet the words sounded hollow, even to him. His blade trembled in his hand, his resolve cracking with every second that passed. He had faced demons countless times before, had killed without hesitation, but now? Now, his blade felt heavier than ever.

"You won’t," you whispered, your voice so soft it was almost tender. "You love me too much."

Love. The word hit him like a blow, leaving him breathless. He had never said it, never dared to, not even in the quiet moments when you had been alive and whole—always having been too scared, too proud, too angry at the world to admit what you meant to him. And now, it was too late.

Swift and merciless, you attacked, and he barely had time to raise his blade. Sanemi gritted his teeth as he pushed you back; the clash of steel against your claws rang out, sharp and jarring. Being faster now, stronger, your movements were inhumanly precise. Every swing of his blade felt like fighting against his own heart.

And yet, he couldn’t stop.

As the battle continued, a blur of blood and desperation, his body moved on instinct, yet his mind was elsewhere, tangled in memories of you. The way you used to laugh, the way your hand used to linger on his, the way you had made him feel something other than rage.

That was gone. He knew as much yet why…?

"You’re hesitating," you remarked, voice cold and biting as you dodged another swing of his blade. "Do you think you can save me? Do you think there’s anything left of me to save?"

He didn’t answer. He couldn’t. The lump in his throat was too thick, the words too heavy. Instead, he fought harder, his strikes growing more desperate, more erratic.

Then, suddenly, you were gone, vanished into the shadows as if you had never been there.

As he stared at the empty space where you had stood, the man fell to his knees, his sword slipping from his grasp. Hollering around him, the wind carried the scent of blood and rain. Still, all he could smell was you — a ghost of what was long gone.

Sanemi stayed there for what felt like hours, his chest heaving, his hands trembling. He wanted to scream, to cry, to tear the world apart, but all he could do was sit there, the weight of his guilt crushing him.

You were gone.

And he had failed you. Again.

Burdened by a silence that felt almost alive, the night was heavy, pressing against Giyuu’s chest with a weight that made it hard to breathe. The forest stretched out endlessly before him, the trees stark and bare against the pale light of the moon. He moved forward, his steps measured and careful, though his mind was a mess of unspoken thoughts. He had been restless for weeks now, the sensation creeping into his bones that something was wrong, that something was unfinished. It wasn’t the first time he’d felt this way—it was a shadow that had clung to him since that fateful mission, the one where he’d lost you.

You were his tsuguko, his pride, his reason to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was hope in the quiet void of his life. You were everything he wasn’t: warm where he was cold, open where he was closed off, curious in ways that sometimes made him envy your ability to find beauty in a world that had been so cruel. He had trained you, poured what little he had of himself into you, and though he hadn’t said it—he rarely said anything—you must have known how deeply he cared.

But then you were gone, swallowed whole by the very darkness they fought every day. He had arrived too late to save you, too late to even hold you as the light in your eyes faded. Instead, he found only blood, streaks of it painting the ground like some grim mockery of a farewell. Your body was gone, taken by the demon who had bested you, and he had searched for weeks, scouring every shadow, chasing every lead, only to find nothing.

Eventually, he told himself you vanished. Not because he believed it, but because it was easier than living with the weight of not knowing.

Yet here he was, drawn to this forest by a presence he could not ignore, a feeling wrapped around his chest like a vice. He had felt it before, fleeting moments when the air would shift, and he’d swear he wasn’t alone. But those moments passed as quickly as they came, leaving him with only the hollow ache of his own imagination. This time, though, it was different.

Stopping in a clearing, the moonlight spilled across the ground in pale streaks. The air was still, unnaturally so, and for a moment, the world felt like it was holding its breath. And then he saw you.

Similar to the movements of a ghost you stepped out of the shadows, your figure bathed in silver light. His breath caught in his throat, his heart lurching in a way that almost made him stumble. It was you—he could never forget you—but you were different. Your skin was pale, too pale, and your eyes glowed with a crimson hue that sent a chill down his spine. You smelled of blood, of death, of Muzan.

For a brief moment, neither of you moved. His body, frozen in place as his mind screamed at him to make sense of what he was seeing, just couldn’t. With an unreadable expression you looked at him, though your eyes carried a weight that felt almost unbearable.

“Giyuu,” you said, your voice soft, trembling, a sound he hadn’t realized he’d been aching to hear.

Then, painfully so, his hand tightened around his sword, the familiar weight grounding him in a moment that felt too unreal to be true. “You’re... alive,” he said, though the words tasted bitter, laced with the truth he couldn’t bring himself to say.

You smiled, but it wasn’t the smile he remembered. It was colder, sharper, laced with something he couldn’t name. “Alive,” you echoed, the word falling from your lips like a stone sinking into water. “If this can be called living.”

Slowly coming undone, the silence between you lingered as the unspoken words pressed against his chest like a blade. He wanted to move, to reach for you, to do something, but all he could do was stare as the weight of his guilt threatened to crush him.

“You didn’t save me,” you said, and the simplicity of your words felt like a blow to the chest.

“I tried,” he murmured, though even to his own ears, the words rang empty.

“Not hard enough.”

Quiet, almost detached your tone didn’t reach him as angry, and that made it worse. You weren’t blaming him—not entirely—but your words carried the weight of a truth he couldn’t deny.

The grip on his sword faltering, Giyuu closed his eyes. “I thought you were gone. I looked for you, but I...” His voice broke, and he hated himself for it, hated the way his composure cracked under the weight of his failure.

When he opened his eyes, you were closer, and the scent of death clung to you like a second skin. “You should have let me go,” you said, and there was something almost tender in the way you said it, though it was a tenderness laced with bitterness. “It would have been kinder.”

“I couldn’t,” he said, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

“Why not?”

While the truth weighed too heavy, being too raw to put into words, he didn’t answer, couldn’t answer. Instead, he watched as you stepped back, disappearing into the shadows—the shadows he couldn’t reach—once more.

Falling to his knees in the clearing, the weight of your presence—of your absence—crushed him. You were gone, and yet you weren’t. You were out there, somewhere, haunting him with the reminder of everything he had failed to protect.

The silence of the forest pressed in around him, and for the first time in years, Giyuu allowed himself to break.

A sharp scent of blood hung heavy in the air, the battlefield awash with red. Obanai’s breath hitched, but the chaos around him blurred into nothing as he stood rooted in place, unable to move. The shadows of the trees twisted in the dim moonlight, creating a stage for the figure that emerged from the darkness. He had spent months telling himself you were gone, mourning you in silence because grief was an emotion he could barely afford in this life. But there you stood—or, at least, something that resembled you—your body wrapped in an aura of darkness that felt like the demon king himself.

It was as if the universe had stopped breathing, leaving only the low rustling of leaves and the distant cries of the dying behind him. You were there, but clearly, it wasn’t you. You couldn’t be demon.

The Obanai who had stood tall and unshaken in the face of countless battles, who had worn his stoic mask like armor, felt it crack the moment your crimson eyes met his. The warmth he had once loved so deeply in your gaze was gone, replaced by something feral, detached—an unbearable void.

And yet, despite the demonic aura, despite the unmistakable stench of Muzan’s curse on your flesh, your face was unchanged. The softness of your features, the curve of your lips, the way you carried yourself—it all lingered, mocking him, reminding him of what he’d failed to protect. You looked like a ghost, not alive, not truly dead, and far beyond his reach.

“Obanai,” you said, and the sound of your voice cut through him like a blade. It was lower now, more venomous, but it was still you. The voice that had soothed him when he doubted himself, that had laughed softly as you tended his wounds in the quiet of the night. Clenching his fists, the trembling betrayed the storm in his chest.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, his voice taut, forced. Painfully, his hands itched to draw his blade, to do what had to be done, but his body wouldn’t obey. Not yet. Not while the sight of you chained him to the ground.

Stepping closer, your movements were slow, deliberate, each step a challenge. “And yet I am,” you murmured. “I suppose we have to thank him for that.”

Muzan. That name was a curse in his mind, a symbol of everything vile and cruel in the world. The realization clawed at him—the same hands that had taken so much had taken you, turned you into a monster.

“You didn’t come for me,” you said softly, but there was no anger in your tone, only the empty weight of a fact. “I waited, Obanai. I waited in that darkness, clinging to the hope that you would find me. But you didn’t.”

Like a blow this accusation landed, harder than any wound he’d ever suffered in battle. The man wanted to deny it, to scream that he had tried, that he had searched, that he had torn himself apart looking for you. But what would it matter? You were here now, and the truth was written in the blood staining your claws, in the hunger lurking behind your crimson gaze.

“I couldn’t,” he finally whispered, his voice barely audible.

“No,” you said, tilting your head as if studying him. “You wouldn’t.”

Ever so subtle, the bitterness in your voice dug into him like thorns, wrapping around his ribs until he could barely breathe. He thought of the nights he had spent grieving you in silence, the guilt that had kept him awake, and the endless prayers he had offered to gods who had long stopped listening.

But none of it mattered. None of it would undo what had been done.

“You were my weakness,” you continued, creeping closer still, until you were only a few feet away. “And now I am yours.”

Shattered, his hand tightened around his blade, and this time, it wasn’t hesitation that stayed him. It was despair. He couldn’t fight you—not because he lacked the will, but because he knew that no matter how sharp his blade, no matter how precise his strike, he couldn’t kill the part of himself that still loved you.

“Do it,” you said, your voice almost tender, as if mocking him. “Draw your sword, Serpent Hashira. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do? Isn’t that your duty?”

Naturally, he wanted to tell you to stop, to beg you to leave, but the words wouldn’t come. His throat was dry, his heart pounding in his ears. The weight of his guilt and failure pressed down on him like a mountain.

You smiled then, a cruel, broken smile. “You can’t, can you? Because you know this is your fault.”

Like a dagger, those words were catapulted deep into his heart. He lowered his gaze, unable to meet your eyes anymore, because he knew you were right. He had failed you in the worst way, and this was his punishment—to see you like this, to know that the person he had loved was gone, replaced by something monstrous.

Softly, you cracked a laugh, a bitter sound that sent a shiver down his spine. “Goodbye, Obanai,” you said, turning away from him, your voice carrying no malice, only finality. “This was the last thing I needed to see.”

Long after you disappeared into the shadows, he stood there, the weight of your presence lingering in the air. His knees buckled, and he fell to the ground, his blade clattering beside him. The silence of the forest swallowed him, but it offered no solace.

The hashira had failed you, and now he would carry the ghost of that failure with him until the end.

pls don’t let this flop. i feel too deeply about kny men. 🫢

[fictionalwench]

Want

Jim Hopper x Reader

Warnings: smut, age gap, size kink slightly, praise, foul language, Jim being fucking oblivious.

Hoppers old.

Or getting there at least.

And he knows it.

   But somehow you're still here in his bed, your youthful cheek squished against his chest, your arm thrown around his middle that he knows isn't as toned as it used to be. 'A Dad bod,' you'd called it. Said it was hot. He'd just rolled his eyes, giving your ass a playful swat.

   You'd met when you began secretary work at the police station. It was a long, pining heavy minute before he ever approached you romantically. You'd flirted with him, or tried, but he couldn't possibly fathom someone as young and vibrant as you wanting him. He'd tried to avoid you, despite working so closely together. That all changed one night when he had to stay late to do paperwork, and you'd volunteered to stay behind to help. He'd tried insisting you go home, telling you he'd take care of it, saying you should get some rest. But you'd stayed, helpfully pointing out that it'd go twice as fast with 2 people.

   So there he was, 1am with the prettiest girl to give him any attention in a long time, your thigh bumping his under the table. He crosses his legs. Partially to put space between the two of you, partially to hide the growing tent at the front of his pants.

The view you'd given him wasn't helping. The white button down you wore was slightly undone at top, unbuttoned in you're frustration, allowing him a view of your breasts swelling past the top of your bra everytime you bent to retrieve your dropped pen.

   You're barely through half the stack of reports and files when you suddenly stand and lean across him, your hair in his face, your chest brushing his arm.

   'Sorry Cheif, just looking for the notes that go with this case,' you explained, flipping through the stack. He let out an involuntary groan, the scent of your shampoo flooding his senses, his cock straining painfully against his pants. If you heard, you never let on, finding the folder you were looking for and sitting back down. Looking back now, the memory makes him chuckle, wondering how he'd been so oblivious to your advances.

   'I'm gonna..ima run to my office quick,' he said, standing and turning quickly, 'left some notes somewhere in my desk. Might be a minute.'

   'O-oh! Take your time!' You told him, but you looked-and it had to be his mind playing tricks on him-disappointed? He shook his head as he hurried off to his office, quickly shutting the door behind him, fumbling with his belt, desperate for some relief from the pressure. He fell back into his chair, giving his throbbing cock a couple long pumps.

   'Fuuuck,' he breathed, precum leaking out of the angry red tip and onto his fingers. He used it to glide his hand over himself with ease, moaning as he imagined it was your spit, your pretty lips wrapped around him, bobbing your head up and down, those big innocent eyes staring into his. Your name tumbles from his mouth, sweet on his tongue.

   Just as he felt his release rising in him, there was a knock on the door.

His door.

That he forgot to lock.

    There was no time to stuff himself back into his pants before you're opening the door and peaking your head in, so he just spun his chair to face front, hiding his lap under his desk.

   'Hop? Everything good? You find those papers?' You asked, knitting your eyebrows together, making him want to kiss the bump that formed between them.

   'Oh, yea, no, sorry,' he said a little too quickly, 'I uh, I think Flow might have had them last, but she keeps her desk locked at night. No big deal.' He shrugged, wishing you'd take his explanation and leave. He was still exposed under his desk, twitching, his release still sitting on the brink.

   Instead of leaving, you stride into the room, shutting the door behind you, 'maybe they're still in here. Here, lemme che-,' you'd walked around the edge of his desk and he'd nearly jumped to stop you.

   'No! That's REALLY ok, it doesn't matt-,' he didn't speak quickly enough, watching in horror as you shut the drawer open next him, finally exposing his dirty secret to yourself. He braced himself, ready for you to scream, ready for you to call him a dirty old man, a pig, ready for the profanities to spill like venom from the mouth he'd wished so many times to kiss.

   But it never came. You just stood there, your mouth open in a small O shape, your clear and intelligent eyes wide.

   'I'm so sorry,' he breathed, and moved to pull his pants back up, his face cherry red, 'God, I'm sorry, please-' you stopped him in his tracks, resting your small, soft hand on one of his large calloused ones. You bit your lip and looked up through your lashes at him, and he swears he's never wanted anyone or anything like he did in that moment.

   'I thought- thought you-,' you spoke softly, fumbling over your words, and then you whispered 'I thought you didn't want me.'

   He pulled you forward by your waist at this, leaning his forehead against yours and breathing out shakily, 'you have no idea how long I've wanted...' He trailed off, brushing his hands lightly over both sides of your face, like you're delicate and precious, like he could break you if he touched you too hard.

He wanted to break you.

   'Can- can I?' He looked at your lips as he asked his half question. He didn't need to finish. You knew what he meant because you wanted the same thing. You nodded slowly and bit your lip again. He threw  his head back and whispered a curse under his breath, and sighed, 'let me do that for you.'

   He kissed you softly at first, his pointer finger and thumb tilting your head by your chin. And then he got hungrier, greedier. He kissed you like you were fresh air and he was a man drowning, his fingers digging so hard into your sides that you could imagine his fingerprints bruising onto your skin, his teeth nipping the soft flesh. He kissed down your jaw and neck, his stubble scratching and tickling your skin in just the right way, and you moaned, digging your nails into his back. He pulled you down onto his thigh, one leg on each side of his, the pressure and friction on your clit making you dizzy.

   'So damn beautiful,' he said it against your skin, like it pained him, and it did. In his mind, this was a fluke. There was no way you'd want him more than once. Sex with an older man, that's all it was. Just a taboo to you.

   So when you ran your hands down his chest and sang his praises, he thought he was going to melt right then and there.

   He put his hands on your hips and began guiding you on his thigh, relishing the way your eyes flit back into your head. 'Yeah sweet girl? Feel good? Come on, ride my thigh, get yourself nice and wet for me. That's a good girl' he growled the last part, ripping open your shirt, the snap buttons coming open with a loud CLACK. He bent his head and softly kissed your chest, sucking and leaving hickeys anywhere that wasn't covered by your bra.

   As if reading his mind, you reached around and undid the clasp, letting both your shirt and your bra fall off your shoulders. He felt his breath hitch in his throat as he looked at you. The moonlight from the window behind him illuminating your skin, your head thrown back and your eyes shut tight as you ground yourself onto him. The need to be close to you was settled in his very bones, every fiber of his being wanted you like an addict wants a drug.

   He had so much he wanted to do. He wanted to sit you on the desk and bury his face between the pillowy thighs he so often found himself daydreaming about. Wanted to see you bruising your knees for him, your eyes glassy while he hits the back of your throat. But all that could wait. He needed you too badly to take his time, to worship your body like the alter it was to him.

   'Want me pumpkin? Hm? Need me to stretch you out good? Make you feel full?' He purred, brushing the hair from your face. You could hardly answer, your mind already so scrambled for him, babbling your pleas and cries.

   He lifted you by your thighs, his hands finding home on your ass under your skirt as he held you above him, ready to lower you down onto him. He couldn't believe his luck as he watched you in wonder, his head falling forwards and into the crook your neck as you lowered yourself onto him, your tightness wrapping around him, ripping a loud, full moan from his throat. He helped you bounce, keeping you upright as you fucked yourself onto him, kissing him hard and deliberately.

   'Jus' like that honey. Fuck, you're so good. Wanted you for so long. Drive me absolutely insane,' you felt him say against your lips. He hugged you tight to him, one hand cradling the back of your head, and bucked his hips up into yours, holding you and cooing sweet praises as he used you, just like he always wanted to. The amount of times he'd imagined this exact scenario at night, when the only one to keep him company was his hand, was uncountable.

   He could feel his orgasam rising again already, and he would have been disappointed in himself if he couldn't feel you reaching your own breaking point.

   'Gonna cum for me? Hm? Gonna cum for your Police Cheif like a good little whore?' Oh, he was loving this. 'Where do you want it baby? Where do you want me to cum? All over that pretty face? On those perfect tits of yours?'

   You're were panting, your face pressed to his shoulder as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

   'Jim- I,' you stumbled over your words, moaning as he hit your sweet spot over and over again, 'pill. Have the pill.'

   His head spun, 'yea? Want me to fill you up with my cum? I wanna see it leaking all over those perfect fucking thighs of yours, oh FU-' he almost loses himself to his own words, hips slamming messily against your ass.

   'Cum for me princess. That's it, be a good girl, scream it for me.'

   And you did, your release white hot. You pulled down the collar of his shirt, biting his shoulder, leaving teeth marks he was still admiring in the mirror the next day.

   He followed you closely, shooting thick, hot ropes inside of you, moaning and cursing, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head as you shook against him.

   'Did so good f'me honey. Made me cum so hard. God,'  he buried his face in your neck and breathed in, high off the scent of you and him mixed together.

  

Now, as you stir against him, whining softly in your sleep when he kisses your forehead because he just can't help himself, he smiles softly.

   He might be old, but damn do you love him. And if a few gray hairs don't bother you, then he can keep coping with it.

[livwritesstuff]

for @steddie-week day 5 | exes to lovers

fully and completely inspired by @emchant3d's divorced dad's post [x] from a few weeks ago bc i did not once stop thinking abt it

tags: modern day, artist!eddie, finance guy!steve, steddie as rich gay divorcees, sort of an accidental parent trap situation

They were too young, Steve thinks in retrospect – married at twenty-three, their daughter born when they were twenty-five, and then divorced before his twenty-seventh birthday.

He gets to think retrospectively because in a few years it’ll be a full decade since the papers for that last bit got signed. Now, Steve is thirty-four and sweating his ass off in a red polo and crisp jeans, the stiflingly hot July sun beating down on him as he scans the perimeter of a crowded playground for a familiar head of curly brown hair – not his nine-year-old. He found Rosalind already, wreaking havoc on the jungle gym. No, he’s looking for his ex (-husband, technically, but Steve usually stops at ex; the -husband part just makes him sad these days).

It’s custody swap day, which is either his favorite or least favorite day of the week depending on who the swap is favoring.

Today it’s favoring him which is why he’s slowly making his way around the edge of a playground in Bushwick, keeping an eye out for his ex, Eddie.

“Steve,” he hears from somewhere behind him. Steve turns towards the sound and sees not that curly head of hair he’d expected. Eddie’s hair is completely buzzed (which, for the record, was not the case last week when Steve dropped Rozzy off with him) and he’s wearing a paint-splattered white t-shirt tucked into old jeans and all that combined is making it reeeally hard for Steve to pretend he’s not crushing hard on the guy he divorced eight years ago.

“Dude,” Steve started, eyeing Eddie’s hair (or lack thereof) as he made his way to the section of fence that Eddie was occupying, “What–”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie rolled his eyes, “Rozzy already hit me with all the good zingers so you’re too late.”

“No, I don’t –” Steve stopped, “It’s…not a bad look, just…you know. Why the change?”

Eddie looked away.

“Long story,” he replied as Steve remembered (yet again) that he doesn’t get full access to Eddie’s world the way he used to.

Luckily for Steve, Rozzy runs up to them and spares him from having to figure out a response for that.

“We should get pizza,” she says. Steve’s eyebrows fly up.

“We should get pizza?” he repeats.

“Please,” she adds, her eyes shining, “At Dad’s? And we play Mario Kart? Dad said I’m getting good at 200!”

“He said that?” Steve asked, and he glances over Rosalind's head to see that Eddie is making a so-so gesture with his hand.

He’s never been all that good at saying no to his daughter (or anyone), so it doesn’t take much more convincing on Rozzy’s part for the three of them to head off in the direction of Eddie’s loft, with a pitstop planned for the pizza shop down the block.

They actually have a nice time.

It’s true that Rozzy is getting better at 200cc – good might be a bit generous, but Steve’s fine with that (he doesn’t know if his ego could handle getting crushed by a fourth-grader).

Just as they’re finishing their second grand prix (the Star Cup, because Rozzy likes the dolphin race), one of the other kids in the building knocks on the door and invites Rozzy over for a sleepover, which Steve agrees to because he remembers the illicit kind of joy in a summertime Monday night sleepover.

Eddie doesn't show Steve the door after Rozzy's gone. Rather, he pulls a bottle of wine from the fridge – an expensive Sémillon he says was given to him by a client.

“So the art biz is still going well, I assume,” Steve comments as Eddie pulls two vintage wine glasses out of a cabinet and pours them each a healthy serving.

Conversation about work manages to sustain them through the first few glasses (Eddie actually remembered that it’s been just over a year since Steve left his dad’s Fortune 1000 for a CFO position at a marketing company that had just graduated from small to midsize status). They work through the second quarter of the bottle talking about Rozzy, and the third vanishes even quicker while Steve spills some of the latest Harrington family drama.

While Eddie is updating him on how Wayne is doing, Steve finds that he isn’t really listening, distracted in the way he can’t help but notice how Eddie’s paint-stained t-shirt is actually more like an undershirt, and a size too small for him, the torso and sleeves tight around lean muscle, and there’s a thin silver chain around his neck and a scruff of facial hair around his jaw, and –

Steve doesn’t immediately realize when Eddie stopped talking. When he does, when his eyes finally unstick themselves from the buzzcut and drop back down to Eddie’s, he sees that Eddie is staring at him too.

Eddie’s tongue darts out to wet his lip.

“Ask me again why I buzzed my hair,” he tells him.

“Why’d you buzz your hair,” Steve asks, because he’s obedient like that (and because he really does want to know).

“Steve–” Eddie stops, a giggly, wine-induced hiccup of a laugh slipping out before he shakes his head, “An entire can of paint tipped ov–” He cuts himself off with another half-hysterical laugh, barely managing to say, “Spilled on my head,” before he was completely doubled over, and Steve is laughing too because he can totally picture it and because he had a bit more wine than he planned to and this is honestly the first time that he and Eddie have hung out without their daughter in…Steve doesn’t even know how long.

“Steve,” Eddie says again when they finally both recover, and his tone is completely different this time around and there’s a vulnerability in his eyes that wasn’t there before and something is happening, something is happening, “Please don’t kill me for saying this, but…fuck, it’s really kinda pathetic how badly I still want it to be you and me.”

Steve thinks he tries to respond, but then he was too busy kissing Eddie to do anything else, too busy scraping fingernails over Eddie’s scalp, too busy choking back a moan as Eddie sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, too busy tugging Eddie’s shirt out of his waistband to shove a hand up underneath and finding that he’s built more solidly than Steve remembers from the last time they touched like this, but something is telling him that’s true about Eddie – true about himself too – in more ways than one.

And if Rosalind comes home the next morning ready to ask how she’s getting back to Daddy’s house only to find that he’s already there, stealing Dad’s mug out of his hand for a sip of coffee when his own is right there…that’s a conversation for another day.

part 2

[ariestrxsh]

🍕 content warning: smut, praise, jealousy, masturbation, oral (f! & m!receiving), edging, begging, unprotected sex, light choking, sub!pizzaboy!chris, dom!boss!reader

🍕 author's note: this series follows sub!pizzaboy!chris and his tendency to mix business and pleasure. in part one, he sleeps with a customer after delivering pizza to her. in part two, he sleeps with a cop that pulls him over for speeding. now he must use his magnetic charm to seduce his boss to avoid getting in trouble for coming back late from a delivery.

🍕 summary: you can't help but get a little jealous when you find out your favorite employee, chris, has been sharing his meat with everyone but you.

pizza guy part three

"That delivery should have only taken twenty minutes. Why did it take you an hour and a half?" You inquired, peering up from the nightly paperwork at Chris, who had just walked through the front door of the otherwise empty pizza shop.

He could immediately feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating. The last thing he wanted to do was upset you.

Chris was your best employee when he wanted to be, but he was constantly pushing the boundaries with you and taking advantage of how much you let him get away with. You could never fire him, though, and he knew that.

He had too many redeeming qualities. He was always covering shifts, bringing in good reviews, and working without complaining. He was also extremely polite and had a lot of respect for authority, always calling you ma'am and asking what you needed from him.

Chris' only downfall was that he couldn't help but mix business and pleasure - always getting high on the job and entertaining the women who were metaphorically lined up for him in between deliveries and sometimes on deliveries.

He always had a good excuse, though. And when he didn't have an excuse, he'd turn on the charm. He saw the way you looked at him, your hungry gaze that would linger for a few seconds too long, and he recognized the need in your voice, every word coated with lust. He knew that in your eyes, he could do no wrong. He had you wrapped around his finger, and he wasn't above using that to his benefit.

"Chris. Where the hell have you been?" You repeated, interrogating him. "Sorry, ma'am.." he apologized, forcing a pout. "I got pulled over," which wasn't technically a lie. "Oh, Chris. You poor thing," you responded, your tone immediately changing as you walked over to him, giving the sweet boy a hug.

"Did you get a ticket?" You wondered, cradling his flushed face. "No, ma'am. Almost. I think the police officer has a little bit of a crush on me," Chris said, his blue eyes flickering back up at yours as he tried to hold back a smirk. Can't blame her, you thought, studying his handsome features as his seemingly innocent smile stared back at you.

You detected a scent on Chris, one you could recognize anywhere and one you'd already addressed with him. "Chris. Are you stoned right now?" You glared at him, looking at the redness in the whites of his eyes, dropping your hand from his face. "What?! No!" He objected defensively, avoiding eye contact.

"There's no way you just got pulled over. If a cop looked at you for longer than two seconds, you'd be in the back of the cop car in cuffs right now. I bet you were at your dealer's house," you accused him, crossing your arms over your chest.

"I'm not lying, ma'am. She did put me in cuffs," Chris responded, his cock stirring in his jeans as he recounted the events that took place earlier in the night. "You mean to tell me, you went from being cuffed to walking away without even getting a ticket?" You shot him a skeptical look.

He showed you his wrists, pointing out the red marks left behind from the metal that dug into them under the weight of himself and the cop while she riding him. "Don't worry about how I got off, ma'am. All's that matters is that I did," Chris responded, his gaze locked on yours.

You bit down on your lip, imagining Chris in restraints, offering to do anything to keep a clean driving record. You knew it was wrong. After all, he was your subordinate, but that was another reason you could never fire him.

He was so hot, and he knew it. He had this way of looking at you and talking to you when he knew he was about to get into trouble that immediately made you melt. You couldn't stay mad at him. Not even if you wanted to.

"Chris, you gotta be careful. I don't care you if you smoke weed, but you can't keep doing it on the job! You could have gotten yourself into big trouble tonight!" You jabbed your finger into his chest, giving him a serious look.

The truth was, you'd bail him out of jail if you could, but as much as you wanted to protect Chris from the consequences of his actions, you could only do so much when it came to the law. "I'm only hard on you because I care about you," you whispered, caressing his cheek.

"I know, but it makes me feel so good. Don't you like things that make you feel good, ma'am?" Chris asked, a bit of seduction seeping into his tone. You stood in silence for a moment, studying his pretty blue eyes and his pouty lips as he looked you up and down. You avoided his question.

"You know, Chris. I read a really interesting review someone left a while back about you while you were gone," you smirked, sauntering back over to your desk and pulling up the review on the computer. "Was it a good one?" He wondered, his facial features softening as he hoped you were about to start praising him.

"I don't know, you tell me. 'Their driver, Chris, has the best Italian sausage in town. He always goes the extra mile to please the customer,'" you read it word-for-word. "What could she have meant by that, huh?" You wondered with a bit of jealousy lingering on the tip of your tongue.

"I think she just really liked my meat, ma'am. I mean, the shop's meat," he corrected himself, giving you another sultry smile. "Is it the shop's meat? Because I certainly haven't been getting any," you remarked, glancing down at the outline of his half-hard cock in his jeans.

"Oh, ma'am. It would be so wrong," Chris purred, secretly enticed by the moral complexity of the idea of sleeping with his boss. His eyes dropped to your figure as his imagination took over, picturing how certain parts of your body would jiggle while riding him.

"Makes it even hotter, doesn't it? How wrong it is? What do I have to do to get a taste of your meat, huh?" You asked, getting up from your desk and slowly making your way towards him again. "All's you have to do is ask, ma'am," Chris responded with allure in his tone, taking a step closer to you.

"Well, I finished everything while you were getting pulled over," you smirked. "Why don't you come home with me, sweetie? It's the least you could do. I'll take really good care of you," you flirtatiously responded, leaning in and kissing his neck. You took both his hands and placed them on your waist.

"Oh, yes, ma'am. Please take me home with you. Take good care of me," he whimpered as he tilted his head to the side to give you better access, immediately giving into your advances.

Your lips were so soft, and Chris couldn't get enough of the way they felt on the sensitive nerve endings on his neck, sending blood rushing to the tip of his cock as a few luscious moans escaped.

"Oh, you like that, don't you?" You cooed, running your fingers along the bulge in his pants as your kisses grew slower, deeper, and more passionate. "Yes, ma'am," Chris mewled, grinding against your palm.

"Down, boy," you said, smiling and petting his package through his jeans as you retreated from kissing his neck. He nearly sobbed when you pulled away. "Oh, ma'am. You're so cruel. Getting me all riled up when we still have a long drive ahead of us," he whispered, already feeling lightheaded from the way you handled him.

"You were cruel first. Leaving me here all alone while you entertain other women. Don't you know how bad I need you here with me, Chris?" You wondered, your words drenched in envy as you delicately ran your hand across his chest.

Of course, you meant it in a professional sense, needing him at the store to help you close up, but you also meant it in a much more primal sense, and he did know. He'd known for a while now, but Chris wasn't the type to make the first move. He'd been waiting for you to finally say it. He nodded.

"Show me how bad you need me," he seductively whispered, tempting you. "Let's lock up, shall we?" You said, taking Chris by the hand, leading him towards the front door, and shutting off all the lights on your way out.

The two of you stepped out into the dark, chilly night, the breeze biting at your nose and stinging your lungs as you inhaled. You slipped the key into the lock, turning it until it clicked, and you tugged on the freezing cold handle for good measure.

Chris followed you to your nice, shiny, black SUV and climbed into your passenger seat. You started the ignition, your engine roaring as it turned over. You turned on the heat, placing your palm in front of the fan, waiting for the air to warm up.

Chris was still rock hard, his eager cock straining against the denim fabric he wore and his mind swirling with the possibilities of what you were going to do with him once the two of you made it back to your place.

"So, what really happened with that cop?" You deviously wondered, glaring at him before looking back at the road you started down. Chris blushed. "She handcuffed me and put me in the back of her car. Then whatever you think happened is probably what happened next," Chris smugly suggested.

You bit your lip, letting your imagination run wild. "And the customer, Chris? You naughty boy," you clicked your tongue at him, shaking your head. His head fell lazily against the headrest as he peered over at you with a submissive expression.

"Ma'am. I promise I'm a good boy. I don't have a naughty bone in my body," Chris lustfully responded, his cock beginning to twitch in his pants as his eyes danced over your lips, imagining how they'd feel wrapped around him. "Well, maybe one," he quietly admitted, shifting around, trying to adjust his aching erection.

"Take it out for me, Chris," you demanded. "Right now?" He asked, an upward inflection in his voice as his brows flew up. "Yes. Show me that pretty cock that the girls can't get enough of, hmm?" You hissed, placing your hand on his thigh and making it jump again. "Yes, ma'am," he nodded, unclasping his belt, undoing his button, and lowering his zipper.

Your eyes shifted between the road and his dick, favoring one more than the other as he started to pull it out. Your eyes widened and your jaw fell slightly open at the sight. "You like what you see, ma'am?"

You couldn't find the words to describe just how much you did, so you settled for a subtle nod. Its size was intimidating and intriguing all at the same time. He went to wrap his long fingers around his veiny shaft, but you swatted his hand away.

"Ah, ah, ah. I didn't say you could play with it," you teased him. He gave you a pout, his brows turning up in a look of anguish. "But I need it," Chris whined.

"I thought you said you were a good boy, hmm? Don't good boys listen and do what they're told?" You purred, playing upon Chris' praise kink and his need for your approval. He hesitantly nodded. "Then behave, Chris." You lightly patted his thigh again, driving him mad with your touch. "Yes, ma'am," he mumbled.

"Why don't we play a game? And if you're a good boy and play the game correctly, then I'll let you touch with it," You suggested, running your tongue along the inside of your teeth. "What kind of game?" Chris wondered, eager to let his hands wander below his waist.

"The kind of game where you tell me what happened with that customer who left that review while you stroke yourself, but you have to do exactly as I say. And you better listen and tell me exactly what happened or else you're in big trouble," you told him.

"But ma'am, I'm gonna get in trouble with you anyway," Chris quietly pouted, worried you were going to fire him for lying about his slashed tires that night.

"Oh, Chris. You could never be in trouble with me as long as you tell the truth," you cooed, softly running the back of your hand along his cheek. "You promise?" He timidly asked. "I promise," you replied, and you meant it.

"Go ahead, Chris. Start touching it," you voiced, giving him permission. His hand moved towards his cock, firmly gripping it, and he let out a relieved sigh as he started slowly stroking.

"So, tell me, Chris. Who instigated the interaction? You or her?" You interrogated him, glancing between the road and his swollen head, a wet patch forming on the front of your panties. "She did, ma'am," Chris told you.

"Did you go inside her house?" You asked, raising an eyebrow at him. "I know I'm not supposed to, but.." Chris started to say. "But what? Answer me, Chris."

"Yes, ma'am. I did go into her house," Chris whimpered, his gaze meeting yours. "How'd she get you to stay, hmm?" You purred, watching Chris' facial features soften as he relaxed into his pleasure.

"She made me a cup of hot cocoa and started kissing my neck. She told me to call you and give you an excuse as to why I couldn't come back to work. Told me she'd make it worth it," Chris admitted, looking nervously at you with his blue eyes.

You gasped. "You naughty boy," you narrowed your gaze at him, a little annoyed that he had faked an excuse to get out of work but a little turned on by the fact that he'd done it to get his dick wet. "She made me call you while she was sucking me off," Chris replied, a smirk forming in the corner of his pink lips.

"You called me while she sucked you off?" You repeated what he just told you to make sure you heard him correctly. You squeezed your thighs together as you pictured him on the phone with you while he had his cock in another woman's mouth. "Mhmm," Chris nodded, pumping his length faster as it quivered against his palm.

"Slow down, Chris. You're gonna have to make yourself last a long time, so don't get too carried away," you smirked at him, thinking about how long you were gonna make him wait to finish. He took a deep breath and slowed the pace. "That's very naughty of you, sweetie," you responded in a voice just above a whisper.

The rest of the drive to your destination, you teased Chris, trying to extract information from him about his most recent sexual encounters, and he spilled the details to you relunctantly. Despite his hesitancy, his cock gave him away, jerking at every word you spoke that jogged his memory.

"Did she ride you, Chris?" You provocatively asked, and you watched it twitch again, listening closely as a soft whine passed through his lips. "I think she did.." you answered your own question, giving him a playful smile.

"You like it when the girl's in charge, don't you? You love to be bossed around in bed," you insinuated, and you watched Chris blush and nod in response as he ran the tip of his thumb through his precum, spreading it around on his sensitive head.

The banter between you and Chris was enticing to say the least, and the whole time you were soaking wet, buzzing with excitement about what Chris would be like in bed and how good his pretty dick would feel lodged inside of you while you bounce up and down on it.

You saw how close he was getting as you turned onto your street, and before he could finish, you stopped him. "Be a good boy, Chris. Put it away for a second. His eyes were filled with hurt and desperation, but he nodded and did as he was told.

Once you pulled into your garage, you turned to Chris, gently grabbing onto his hair and pulling his face just a few inches from yours as you locked your hungry gaze onto his.

"Look. Normally, I'd invite you in, give you something to drink, offer you something to eat, show you around. I don't have the fucking patience for that right now, Chris. What we're gonna do is go straight to my room, and you're gonna be a good boy for me and let me use you however I want for as long as I want. Got it?" You demanded.

Chris obediently nodded, his face conveying desire. You took Chris' hand, leading him in through your warm and cozy house that smelled like apple cinammon. You guided him up your stairs and into your bedroom.

You pulled him into a passionate kiss, your mouth crashing into his as the sexual tension between the two of you built to an all-time high. His pretty moans vibrated against your lips as you reached under his shirt, your fingertips brushing against his hip bones as you hooked them onto the hem of the material.

You pulled away long enough to pull his uniform off over his head, and you quickly dropped to your knees. Chris looked down at you, wetting his lips as he silently begged you with his eyes to do what he thought you were going to do. You unbuttoned his jeans, slid the zipper down, and pulled down his pants and his underwear.

You opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue as if you were getting ready to please his cock, but you couldn't let him finish without a little more teasing. Instead, you retreated, standing to your feet as a look of disappointment seeped into Chris' expression.

It was just as hard for you as it was for him. You'd imagined this scenario a hundred times, and you couldn't wait to hear the pretty sounds he'd make while you suck on it, but the fact that you'd been waiting so long for it, made you want to savor every moment, every kiss, every touch..

You gently pushed him back onto your bed, and his eyes danced over you while he propped himself up on his elbows as you shed off your own layers, letting them fall to your feet. You climbed on top of him, pulling him into another passionate kiss as the two of you rolled around on your silky soft sheets.

"Be a good boy for me, Chris. Let me sit on your pretty face," you demanded from him, but it didn't take much persuasion. "Oh, yes, ma'am. You don't have to tell me twice," Chris eagerly replied as you gently pushed him down, guiding him to lie flat on his back.

You straddled his face, placing your knees on either side of his head and lowering your pussy onto his mouth. He wrapped his arms around your thighs, pulling you as close to him as possible as his tongue explored your folds, flickering back and forth over your sensitive clit.

You entangled your fingers in his messy hair, and you gently tugged on it, causing him to moan against you while his eyes rolled back in his head. The vibration that passed through his lips reverberated against your vulva, pleasure rushing through you.

You gently rocked your hips back and forth, riding Chris' face and grinding against his silky, wet tongue. You peered down into his gorgeous blue eyes as you combed through his brown locks. "You're such a good boy, Chris," you whispered, enjoying the feeling of his lips as he wrapped them around your bundle of nerves and started tenderly sucking on it.

"Yes, sweetheart. Just like that," you encouraged him. He nuzzled into your heat, relishing in the lovely sounds that left your lips and the way you rutted against his face, all testaments to how good he was making you feel. He could eat you for hours.

He reached up and grabbed your breasts, gently rolling your nipples between the pads of his fingers. He moaned against your clit a few more times as he delicately sucked on it, rapidly flicking his tongue against it. You felt pressure building in your lower stomach as you tightened the grip of your thighs around Chris' head.

"Good boy," you whimpered again, your body beginning to shiver as your pleasure reached a crescendo. His cock twitched at your praises, and his hands moved to your waist, stabilizing you as he admired the way you looked from this angle.

He took your clit between his lips and gently tugged on it until you were coming undone. You threw your head back and started fervently grinding against his face, losing yourself in your orgasm as you released onto his tongue.

He lapped up every last bit of your wetness, savoring the sweetness that filled his senses. Once you were completely satisfied, he removed his mouth from your pussy. "Did I do a good job, ma'am?" Chris asked, his big, blue eyes staring back at yours with his chin covered in your juices.

"Oh, sweetheart. You always do. You were perfect. Such a good boy," you purred breathlessly as you ruffled his hair once more, starting to lift yourself off of him. "Get comfortable, sweetie. Let me take care of you," you cooed.

"Yes, please," he politely answered, nestling among your mess of pillows and propping himself up against your headboard. He loved it when you took charge. He kept his eyes locked on yours as you placed yourself between his legs.

He'd been hard for the past hour, desperate for you to take it into your mouth, but you were still savoring every moment, and he secretly adored all the teasing. You drew a line from the base of his dick all the way up his length with your soft tongue, and it twitched in response.

You gently kissed his tip, slurping up the shiny, clear fluid that was slowly leaking out as you slowly stroked his dick. He let out a soft, pleasured sound as your tongue made contact with all his sensitive nerve endings, and you started delicately flicking it across his swollen, pink head.

"How's that?" You asked in a soft voice. "So good," he whined as you started combining the two techniques, sucking on it while your tongue got to work, fluttering around in the best-feeling places. Pretty noises poured from his lips as you took him into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down slowly on his length and learning every vein with your tongue.

He smiled down at you and tenderly placed his hand on the back of your head, silently asking you to take more of him. You listened by sliding your lips all the way down his shaft until he was hitting the back of your throat. He gasped as you took it all so effortlessly. "How'd you learn to do that, ma'am?" He whimpered, peering down at you wide-eyed and breathing heavily as you chuckled, humming around the base.

You sped up your movements, sloppily drooling and making a mess all over his cock. "Please let me cum. Please," Chris moaned, his luscious voice spilling into the air. Despite how politely he asked, you took him out of your mouth long enough to give him a smirk and shake your head no.

"Please, please, please," his jagged breaths becoming whiny and needy. You ignored his begging and continued your pace, bringing him dangerously close to the edge before withdrawing all stimulation. He let out a few strangled moans as his cock twitched some more, begging to be sucked on again.

You loved how responsive he was and how his body language reacted to every subtle touch. You wrapped your lips around him again, and a stream of lustful noises flowed from him. You looked into his blue eyes that were silently pleading with you. You could see how desperate he was, which made you want to edge him even more.

"Please," he whispered again as if you didn't hear him the first half a dozen times he asked for you to let him finish. "You're going to have to be a good boy and wait," you teased him, removing your mouth again and shifting around on the bed. He responded with a subtle nod.

You began to straddle him, guiding his rod towards your entrance, and you let out a delighted hum as you lowered yourself down onto him. Chris' head gently fell back and tapped the headboard as you squelched around him.

"Oh, Chris. You're so big," you moaned. "So I've been told," Chris chuckled. He couldn't help how much that compliment stroked his ego. You started to ride him, your breasts bouncing in his face as he latched onto your nipples, tenderly sucking on each one. His hands wandered towards your ass, and he squeezed your soft flesh, whimpering against your chest.

"Good boy," you praised him as you ran your fingers through his hair, massaging his head. You leaned down and started sucking on a sensitive place on his neck, and he whined into your ear as he tried to hold on while you were actively working against him. "Please let me cum," he asked again patiently and politely with desire in his expression.

"Not yet, pretty boy," you cooed into the crook of his neck as you continued lightly sucking on it. Whimpers escaped his mouth as you picked up the pace, your strides becoming faster and rougher. He wasn't sure how much more he could take, but he tried to hold on to please you.

He was always able to hold the different perspectives of you in his mind, both the professional view he had of you and the sexual desire he felt toward you. He couldn't help but delight in the way the two versions of you merged in front of him. He'd always loved how bossy you were, but the way you were ordering him around in bed gave your bossy nature a whole new meaning to him, and he adored it.

He loved the way you bounced on him, your moans becoming louder and more urgent. He could feel you clenching around his cock, which made it even harder for him to fend off his long-awaited orgasm.

"Please, please, please," he begged some more, losing his composure. "Please let me cum, ma'am," he sweetly requested, his dick already beginning to throb inside of you. He wasn't exactly asking for your permission but more or less warning you that he couldn't hold off anymore.

"Yeah? You wanna cum?" You asked, peering into his bedroom eyes and examining his flushed, pink cheeks and the way he kept licking his lips. "More than anything, ma'am," he whimpered, his eyelids growing heavy and his mouth falling open.

"Only because you've been such a good boy," you commented, caressing his jawline with your thumb and moving your hand to his throat. You gripped his neck, lightly choking him which sent him over the edge.

A few strangled moans passed through his lips as his eyes rolled back and his head gently thumped against the headboard again. His climax hit him like a freight train, barreling through him and sending a jolt of pleasure through his whole body.

He shot his load up into you as you finished onto him, the room filling with both of your satisfied sounds. You involuntarily dug your nails into the flesh of his neck, intensifying how good it felt for him. You slumped forward, pulling him into a warm embrace as you throbbed around him.

"Chris, I've been wanting to do that forever," you breathlessly whispered into his ear. "Maybe I should make you jealous more often, huh? It really seems to get your attention," Chris smugly remarked, smirking at you. "Oh, sweetie. You don't have to try to get my attention. You just always have it."

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[trulyumai]

To Love and Forget

Pairing: Messmer x Reader

synopsis: The red haired knight didn’t love easily, but with his wife, it was thoughtless.

Warnings: None

A/N: Can you tell this man has me in a trance? Cause I’m Messmerized ;) (Okay I’m sorry enjoy the story)

Will his wife adore him, even with the scorched bodies left in his wake?

“We should visit soon, my love. I need to restock the kitchen.”

Messmer sat by the fire, watching as crimson and amber flames caressed the wooden logs. It crumbled under such intense heat, yet he observed regardless, as the pile turned to ash.

His beloved wife stirred a worn silver pot in the kitchen. The aroma of something savory wafted, momentarily drawing him from his troubled thoughts.

“Hm? Where to?”

Pale fingers brushed the man’s chin lightly, out of habit.

Truthfully, he hadn’t been listening as attentively as usual. On any other occasion, Messmer would be beside her, aiding and showering his wife with kisses as he deemed fit. She would giggle, flashing her bright smile, and likely try to push him away before resuming her culinary duties.

But this night was different

His patience wore thin; and so did his soldiers. They lay fallen in the yellowed wheat fields, swords piercing their backs. A surprise attack had sealed their fate, led by whom? Messmer didn’t know, flames began to dance across his pink and white knuckles with a methodical rhythm.

“The town, my love! I ran out of yeast the night before.”

“The town?” The knight gripped his knee harshly with his right hand. Unbeknownst to him, his wife hummed in agreement and turned to gaze at him.

“Mmh, I thought I would go in the morning. Save myself the trouble for—”

“Darling, I’m sure whatever you think you need can wait.”

His neck turned slightly towards her, earning a frown. She grasped the light blue apron around her middle, looking confusedly at her husband through her lashes. The room grew unbearably warm, a telltale sign of Messmer’s anger—disappointment, occasionally.

She could see his blazing eyes from here. Hells, they illuminated most of the living room.

“But… darling, our—”

“Enough. Wife.”

He stood taller now; she had to crane her neck back to meet his fiery gaze.

“It’s not safe. You’ll wait.”

Messmer approached, his maroon hair swaying with each step. In seconds, he was before her, appearing torn between worry and contempt.

She refused to meet his gaze any longer, unable to comprehend his displeasure.

Yet Messmer persisted. His index finger traced the skin around her chin, urging it upward with gentle pressure.

Now he stood with a gaze of love, mingled with sympathy. How swiftly he could change—she would never understand. His emotions had become less predictable lately; just the other day, he incinerated a field when a direbear had ventured too close.

She had regarded him then with the same eyes—worry, concern. He hadn’t acknowledged it, merely placing his hand back on her waist and continuing.

Just a he was doing now, ignoring the present.

“Forgive me, my love, I’ve been ah— distracted.” Noticing the change in atmosphere, his fingers found home in her hair, they stroked and smoothed over it with newfound patience.

“Distracted?” Her head rested upon his hand now, it engulfed it instantly.

“With what?”

He laughed.

It was small— and not the humorous kind.

“It’s nothing that should ail you, darling.”

His form bent over, and she felt the man’s forehead tap hers adoringly.

His eyes stared right into her own, they were half lidded and the knight held a light smile upon his face.

“Let me do the worrying, hm?”

His nose bumped with hers, and soon their lips touched. She felt his breath waft across her lips— her cheeks.

It was warm, and smelled of a cider he had made earlier that day.

“Kiss me, darling?” He pleaded.

And who was she to deny such a man of power?

The girl leaned in, now on her tiptoes as her soft mouth collided with his chapped one.

The maroon knight let out a groan, his knees almost buckled for how much he had to hold back from the poor girl.

So as a distraction, he pulled away, and began to kiss and suck the skin of her neck, making his way to her perfect jawline.

“But what about ah— “

A light kiss.

“The food—“

Another bite.

His chin met her shoulder, his lips grazed the bottom of her ear.

“Should you worry about that now, dear wife?”

His voice was deep, gravelly from the amount of lust bestowed upon his body.

The woman squeaked, embarrassed such an action would fluster her so.

“Its just ah— what would we do for to— morrow?"

Sharply, his arms sagged down, and his hands met with the back of her legs.

Quickly he acted, and pulled each of her legs across his muscled torso.

Now face to face, the man walked backwards, towards the well worn stairs leading to their shared bedside.

She laughed, her head bobbed to the side and he couldn’t help but let out a timber one of his own.

His wife’s arms looped around his wide shoulders, and met just behind his neck.

“Do not concern yourself with such frivolous tasks, my love.” He began his kisses once more,

each laid a different love bite.

One pink

One purple

“For tonight, I found my feast, mmh?”

She poked at the pale man’s cheek.

“Who knew you could hold such a flirtatious remark?” She teased, and Messmer clicked his tongue before tossing her lightly upon the mattress.

His wife’s hair engulfed the pillows, it surrounded her like a halo and he swore he’d remember such an image for the rest of his days. No matter the cost.

He’ll see her eyes before his future slumbers

Hear her laugh before the numerous fights to come on the battlefield

Eventually, when his last breath graces his lips, he’ll taste her there, feel the breath of hers brush past his vicinity.

He’ll remember such love filled eyes

He’ll remember what she smelled like— elder flowers and apples.

He’ll remember she loved him.

And that he loved her.

[butterymangowrites]

dad thief

paring: dabi / todoroki touya x fem reader

warnings: smut, non-con/dub-con, cum eating, creampie, childhood friends to enemies to whatever this is, obsessive dabi, possessive dabi, jealousy, non-con filming, blackmail, endeavor is a shitty dad but you both have daddy issues, child abuse, domestic violence, hate sex

word count: 2.5k

Even captured by one of the most dangerous villains in Japan, you still had the audacity to smirk. He wanted so much to wipe it off your face, make you sullen, make you regret. You had always been a pain in the ass, a bitch, and a dad thief.

—

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you asked. 

What Touya saw was you, a girl his age whom he had been friends with for a while now, wearing an Endeavor’s T-shirt two times your size. “That’s my dad on your shirt.”

“I know.” You smirked, didn’t tell him you stole it from someone, just like all the merches you had at home because you couldn’t afford to buy one. “He’s my fav hero after all.”

Having a fire quirk, you related so much to the number 2 hero. Meeting Touya was the best coincidence you could ever hope for.

But Touya hated it, your quirk was powerful, not more than his, but so much more stable. At Least you didn’t get burnt every time you tried to use it. His dad looked at you like you were a gift from God, given to him to replace his own incompetent children. You had become Endeavor’s favorite in such a short time. 

—

“So you’re still my dad’s simp,” the white haired villain said, looking at you from an old couch where he lay down, shirtless, his torso patched up with staples holding burnt skins to the body so they didn’t fall off. He looked like a doll that the owner didn’t want to throw away and chose to keep repairing. 

“Rich coming from someone with daddy issues.” Standing at his feet, you peered down at him. He had changed a lot, appearance-wise. Half of his face was burnt and stapled just like his body. With black hair, piercings, and impassive demeanor, he became someone else entirely, fooling everyone even his own family—he became Dabi. But those eyes, those were Touya’s eyes. “That was a desperate act back there, airing the plot twist on tv and shit.” 

It was amazing how quickly you got on his nerves. Dabi pounced from the couch and grabbed you by the neckline of your hero costume. You staggered forward from his pull but let him drag you to the couch and down onto him who now had his head back on the armrest. His hands adjusted your legs to straddle his waist, positioning you to his heart’s content. Your skin-tight suit was for sure fireproof; yet, you still felt heat emitted from the bare skin of Dabi’s naked torso. 

Seeing him face to face this close, you couldn’t help but tease your childhood friend a tad. “Fuck, you’re ugly. No wonder your dad didn’t remember you.” 

“This mouth of yours,” Dabi tsked, placing his index finger on your hot lips, “fucking needs to be shut.” 

He lifted the finger from your lips to point to the opposite side of the couch where a TV should be if there was one. Instead, there was a camcorder set up on a tripod, an ominous red dot blinking rhythmically. 

“It’s recording us,” Dabi said. “I’m gonna fuck you on it.” 

“Tsk, tsk. What happened to dates and dinners?”

His expression shifted dangerously. And you yelped, loud, when he suddenly snaked his hand around to unzip your suit from the back. 

“Touya, knock it off!” You swatted his hand. But too late, you already felt the suit loosen. 

“As I was saying,” Dabi continued, “I’m gonna film us fuck.” 

Heat crawled onto your back when he slipped his hand under the open suit and started to skim around. 

“But since I’m a generous man, I’m giving you two choices.” He tapped on your back once before saying, “Be a good girl and I’m keeping the footage”—he tapped twice—“or not, and I’m sending it to Endeavor’s office so he can see his favorite intern getting dicked up, down, six ways to Sunday by his eldest son.” 

His body heated up a little more; you knew it was from excitement. 

“Do you think you’ll still be his favorite after that? I don’t think so if you asked me.” 

You were… speechless.  

“Come on, am I really ugly?” He nudged his face against yours, which was so Touya of him. “I’ve heard people say I’m still hot, baby.” 

“Yeah, hot like the fire that burnt you this bad,” you countered.

He guffawed. “So, what will it be?” 

You thought about burning him, burning this whole place down, but your flame was no match for his. Having experienced what he could do firsthand on the battlefield, you would not withstand his flame—you would die. 

Contrary to his belief, you were not Endeavor’s favorite. That spot belonged to Shoto since the day he was born. Touya was just dumb and blinded by jealousy and prejudice to actually see it. You were nothing compared to Shoto—you and Touya were nothing compared to the half-hot half-cold prodigy. But Touya was not totally wrong, you still wanted to be his dad’s number 1, not wanting to disappoint the only man you considered a father figure.

But fuck if you didn’t hate Touya. “I’m not choosing shit.”

So he chose for you, tongue plunging down your throat while his cock drove in and out of your cunt. Standing in front of the camera, Touya stood behind you with his scarred arms around your midsection, forcing your whole body tight against him. Every short thrust made your breasts jiggle and eyes roll. The camcorder got it all—the visual, the sound. Even with Touya’s kiss shutting you up, you weren’t really silenced. And without it, you were loud. 

“Fuck baby, you like it that much?”

You would have closed your mouth if your hands weren’t stuck in his suffocating embrace. “Not—that good.”

Touya chuckled. “Yeah?”

He quickened the pace, and your brain almost shut itself down. 

“Stop,” you cried, legs starting to shake. That was when he really stopped. That dickhole.  

“This is what bad girls get.” He said, withdrawing his cock but still not releasing you from his clasp. When he walked back to the couch, he hauled you with him like a child hauling a big bag of toys to his secret lair. 

Guiding you to sit on him—again—you still faced the camcorder. 

“Dad, are you watching? Look at me. Am I doing good?” One of his hands mapped a path up to fondle your tits, switching left and right to pay his utmost attention into making you squirm out of your human seat. 

But he didn’t plan to let you go. His other free hand jerked his cock once, twice, before rubbing it on your still-wet pussy. No one was gonna believe you did not want this. Endeavor would not. 

“Have you fucked her yet? Do you want to?” He grinned against your temple. 

You swore out a soft ‘fuck’ when his cock eased its way in. It was burnt, too. Not as bad that it had to be patched up, but you could feel the bumpy texture against your moist walls.

“You know my dad is an abusive bastard, right? Fucking neglecting his own wife and children. He beat mom, too, have you heard? Did he have the guts to tell you that?” he said, tilting your head up so you could see him looking down at you. You were so hot he prayed his dad hadn’t touched you, he might never let him, too good of a pussy to share. 

“He’s not a good replacement for your scumbag of a father, trust me.” 

—

“I can do that, too,” you said from behind the bush you had been hiding, starling the boy you directed the sentence to. He jumped. You laughed. You had been watching him practice for almost half an hour. He looked sort of tired now. 

“Look,” you said before doing the same trick you saw him do, making a flame dance on one hand and moving it to the other hand like you were juggling a ball. 

He frowned, not looking very impressed, but didn’t take his eyes off you. 

That was the first day you met Touya—making friends with him—and after that, coming out to meet him almost every day. Soon after, you got to meet his family. Your eyes almost bugged out of their sockets when you saw who his dad was. 

The big man spared you only a glance when Touya first introduced you to him. The second glance, however, came after Touya said you had a fire quirk. 

Shoto was only two at the time, too young for his dad’s intensive training. 

Two years later, when Endeavor asked if you wanted to train with his youngest who had just turned four and you said yes, Touya didn’t talk to you for three days. On the fourth day, he didn’t let you in when you rang the doorbell. 

“Go away, dad thief.” 

But you didn’t want to. The Todoroki house was your paradise, the highlight of your day. Since Touya brought you to his home, you had been here everyday, spending your weekdays’ after-school time and whole days on weekends playing with the Todoroki siblings—Fuyumi, Natsuo and Touya himself if he wasn’t a bitch, complaining that his sister and brother hogged you all for themselves, and leaving dramatically to play alone, expecting you to follow. 

He was possessive like that. One time, he locked you in a room to only play with him. Rei—his mom—had to use a spare key to unlock the room and scolded her eldest. 

Now, the table had turned. Since your weekdays’ playtime had turned into training sessions, Touya was shunning you. 

“Go back to your shitty father,” he said through the crack of the side door before slamming it to your face. 

He played dirty mentioning your dad like that when he was the one who followed you to your ratty excuse of a home one day and saw your dad slap you on the face for no reason. It was a low blow since he was the one who interfered just before your dad used his fire quirk on you and your mother who was trying to shield you from the oncoming flame. Despite being the one who helped you that day, he used the fact that you had one of the worst dads a child could ever ask for to hurt you. You hated him so damn much for that. 

“Just you wait, Touya. One day, I’ll really steal him from you,” you said to the closed door, knowing he was still behind it. Tears were flowing down your face, but it was alright because Touya would not see them—because he would not open the door for you, and you resented him for it. 

How… wrong you were. 

“No.” 

Just when you walked back to the hand-me-down bicycle you got from the person you were most angry at at the moment—he was kind for that; you had to admit—you heard him before you heard the door open. Wiping the tears off your face, you turned to him and haughtily asked, “No what?” 

Touya didn’t answer. His eyes were locked onto your shirt. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you asked.

“That’s my dad on your shirt.” 

“I know.” You smirked. “He’s my fav hero after all.”

Touya scrunched his nose, his hair that used to be red at the ends was now full white. Then all of a sudden, he jumped you. 

You shrieked. It must have been a jaw-dropping scene for a passerby if there had been one—two 12-year-old children grabbing each other’s hair on the floor, fighting with their little hands. 

“Get off me!!” you screamed, but Touya who successfully got on top of you just laughed maniacally. Looking back, he sounded a bit too psychotic for a child. 

He shouted into your ear, “Dad is mine! Dad is mine!” 

From the corner of your eyes, you saw someone’s feet. 

“Touya-nii! Stop!” It was Fuyumi. “Mom, help!” 

The hands in your hair didn’t relent one bit despite the call for an adult who was soon surely going to rip his ears off if he didn’t get off you, but he did quiet down. 

“You’re mine, too,” he said softly into the ear he was shouting into before. “Dad’s not home today. Let’s play. You and me, okay? No Fuyumi-chan and Natsuo-kun. Just you and me.” 

The next thing you knew, he was pulled off you by his mother. Touya didn’t shed a tear when Rei spanked him in the ass, asking why he did that to you. She told him to apologize. 

“I’m sorry.” 

You knew he wasn’t. But he sounded genuine enough Rei let him off with only a one-week-no-tv punishment.

—

To you, he had been… off since that day. Today, he was full-blown unhinged. 

Your legs were spread wide over his own open ones, basically preventing you from trying to close them and hide your fucked pussy from the camcorder. His hands were busy, one grasping at your waist for leverage while the other circling over your clit. You were all bare to the camera with Touya’s cock ramming in and out, concentration drifting like smoke in the wind, so close to coming. 

“Such a good cunt. I’ll fuck it everyday”—he panted—“come in it. You can count on me.” 

“Don’t—” 

“I’ll be a good boyfriend. Will never fucking stray,” he prattled on. “Won’t hit you. Won’t be like dad. You’ll see.” 

You tried to hold it, but the hand on your clit just didn’t stop, pushing you to the top and making your hips buck up uncontrollably Touya had to push you down so his dick didn’t slip out. You felt the throbbing when he spilled inside. The little shit really did it—he creamed your pussy. 

“Want a taste?” Touya proposed, his hands spreading and closing your pussy to see the white thick cream dripping out. 

“Don’t be disgusting.” 

“Bet you drink his cum just to please him.” 

“I never fucked your dad, you villain scum.” 

“Mmmm.” You turned your head just in time to see Touya licking his fingers clean. When he saw you look, the menace put his tongue out to show his own cum on it. You knew what he would do next without a word being said and tried to turn away, but Touya grabbed your cheeks, stilling you, then he squeezed to force your mouth open.

His tongue invaded, feeding you his cum, and ending with a kiss. He took his time, like he had a lot on his hands, making sure you swallowed every drop. 

“Not even sucking his dick?” He continued questioning you. 

“No, you sicko.” You felt your body temperature rising, quirk activating, but didn’t let the fire come out. 

“Bet you thought about it, dad thief.” 

“Bet YOU thought about it, obsessive patchy bitch.” 

He laughed with his whole chest, shaking your whole body with it. “Guess we both ain’t shit, baby.”

[rene-darling]

CASH- app or zelle?

Sugar mommy/daddy AU

...wanderer...Xiao...tighnari...albedo...

Wanderer

Scaramouche never really needed a sugar mommy nor a daddy since he was a harbinger. He was rich...but now that he's wanderer...things have changed.

Ever since Nahida enrolled him in the Akademia he's had to find out how damn expensive some of the books he needs for his essays are

What the fuck! Why should he spend a million mora on a damn book he'll only use once!

While he was complaining about this to the traveler she jokingly suggested that he become a sugar baby.. " hah- do you think I would lower myself to such a degree-" once piamon mentions how he could basically get all the books he needed for his essays for free..he was sold.

One thing Wanderer didn't quite get the grasp of is what he needed to do for you in return...

His sharp breathing filled the room as your hips snapped in and out at a rough pace- he didn't know this was a part of the deal!!

Though he couldn't find it in himself to complain, as he gripped onto the bedsheets till his knuckles grew white "Hahh..fuuuck"

"you have to repay me for those books after all, don't you, so be a good little darling and hold fucking still." he wants to say he tried but it was nearly impossible! That fake dick slammed into him so hard! He couldn't! How could you except him to hold still

"i- hah.. I'm trying yo- mmh!" he was glad that he was facing away from you he most certainly didn't want to see that amused smirk on your face.

Xiao

Xiao didn't realize how it even happened, he just thought you brought him gifts and such out of kindness

Right, it had to be kindness. What else could it be?

In time, he began expecting your gifts and trinkets patiently he would sit on the railings waiting for your arrival, and when you finally arrive he greets you still sitting on the railing

Xiao didn't even realize how this relationship developed. Due to his duty to guard liyue he never went anywhere too far from it, so whenever you would come back from your trips and expeditions you would give him gifts and trinkets.

And in turn, he would give you himself for the night.

He lets out breaths in a set rhythm "hah..hahh" his breaths come out as pants and his body jerks up and down at every touch

He's so damn sensitive, twitching at every minor touch, you can milk his cock all night and he'll try his hardest to be your good boy. To follow your commands without a word,

He'll grab into you so tightly so desperately trying to hide his embarrassment in the crevis of your neck

Albedo

Albedo gets paid well by the knight of Favonius but lately, with some of his rather grand projects, he hasn't enough funds for them.

He thinks of ways to get more money, maybe he could work overtime. No, he already does and it's still not enough. He's in a stump. That's when he learns the term sugar baby from a drunk venti and kaeya

They both were drunk only jokingly suggesting that the man become a sugar baby if he was that desperate

What they didn't know was, yes. He is that desperate. He absolutely needs more funds, so this is the best and easiest option.

All he needs to do is lay himself on his table on Dragon spine, and the rest is up to you, you can do whatever you please with his fair skin, leave as many marks as you wish,

He thought it was easy enough. All he has to do is lay pretty and let you ravage him. He is a homunculus after all, he was confident he could take it,

"oh f-fuck mhm..." it seems he had overestimated how much his delicate body could take

Though he didn't mind, he enjoyed the feeling of being pushed to his utmost limit. His nails dig into your skin leaving red scratches all over, he can't help it you drive him insane.

Tighnari

Much like Albedo the Fox Boy needs funds for his experiments and expenditures, the scholars at the Akademiya after hearing his reluctance to join them being petty decided to cut his funds in half!

He's annoyed but he's even more petty than those stuck-up scholars, so even with his funds cut he decides to come up with another way to secure them

It wasn't his idea to become a sugar baby, but it came up when he was talking to his friends during a game of TCG, Kaveh had the same problem being in debt and not having enough funds to cover them.

He told Tighnari about how he planned to sign up to become a sugar baby, and so Tighnari albeit reluctantly decided to try it out. He means, what's the worst that could happen?

This is the worst. Though, he's lying.

His breathy pants fill the room his scratching and digging into your back, creating deep red marks on your skin,

"ah- ah..mhm, Hah-" he forces his head up to look at you, flushed cheeks tinted a harder red the more you stared back. "Y-you'll buy me t-the- mhm!" you couldn't help but chuckle.

His tail desperately wraps around you as he lets out a whine, he pouts a little at your teasing, "Don't worry darlin', I'll get whatever you want, so don't worry your pretty little head over it."

[tteokdoroki]

Hi aali!, Happy Valentine's Day~ I saw your bumble date, swipe right event and would like to participate :D I put forward gojo satoru as my fav, red bottomed heels as my ideal valentine's gift and for my date to be sweet. Please and thank you in advance /^w^/

⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡. — SATORU GOJO. swipe sweet: red bottom heels.

about. it’s a match! whilst dolling yourself up to spend valentines day with your husband — satoru gojo reminds you of how much he loves you with a very expensive and reminiscent gift ( 1K ).

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, reader and gojo are married + have kids, reader is wearing a dress, afab!reader.

・:〃⤥ bumble date, swipe right event !

“are the kids in bed?” you ask your husband satoru as you scrutinise the line of red on your lips in the mirror. his large palms smooth over the curves of your frame, hugged by your pretty and powder blue dress, before stopping just above your navel. 

the gesture is sweet, with no ulterior motives, you’ve learned over the years that your husband values proximity and closeness. he likes to hold you close like you might disappear and touch you as though to make sure that you’re real. tonight, he gets lost in the way you feel underneath his explorative fingertips, entranced by how beautiful you look tonight (or any other night). 

cooing, you capture his attention — brilliant colbalt eyes finding yours in the mirror.  “satoru,” 

“you look good in this dress, baby. is it new?” he quips, head of silvering hair coming to rest at the junction between your neck and shoulder as you finish perfecting your lip. “sorry, yes honey. the rugrats are sleepin’.” 

you squirm happily in your man’s hold, relishing the way that he loves up on you with kisses to your neck and his warm hands rubbing up had dabi’s your sides. “what about the sitters? did you pay them?”

“you mean fushiguro? we practically raised him, a bit of free labour never hurt anybody —“ when you cough unhappily, glaring at your long-time lover and father of your children in the mirror, satoru pouts into the kisses he’s fitted along your bare shoulder. “— fine, i’ll leave him a tip.” 

the man is rewarded with one of your dazzling smiles, the type that has his heart bursting through his chest and his brain a mess. no matter how many dates you go on, how many times you celebrate valentine’s day together…satoru gojo finds himself falling in love with you all over again. each and every time. 

“satoru baby, did you—?” 

“yes, sweetie, i called the uber. it’ll be here in five. yes, i called the restaurant and had them push back by thirty and yes, you look beautiful. you always do. you’re just as beautiful as the day i met you,” years of marriage has taught satoru gojo to be prepared for anything. your fluttering mind, your worry for your children, the fact that you always take a little too long to get ready for the simplest of outings. these little habits and ticks of yours are things that he cherishes, things he wouldn’t change for the world. satoru has grown a lot since he first met you, and has grown in all the right ways to make sure that you’re loved. 

spinning you in his bulking arms, satoru backs you up against your bathroom sink — caging you against it with his arms either side of your hips while he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. “now, i know we like to be fashionably late to things, being the hottest couple in the world and all, but i really do think we should get going,” he scolds you playfully, but doesn’t make an effort to draw away from you. “i can’t push this table back anymore,” 

you smile, blowing a kiss up at him so that you don’t smudge your lipstick. “don’t let megumi hear you say that, you know that he thinks we’re cringe.” 

“he can think what he wants, nothing will stop me from showing off the most beautiful woman in the world,” when the white haired man finally steps back, your fingers remain linked — wedding bands clinking against one another. “let me get your shoes, gorgeous, the car’ll be here soon.”

as your husband retreats ( leaving you a love stricken mess in the bathroom ), you resort to packing a clutch with the essentials for tonight — debating on which lip gloss to bring with you until he comes back. 

“remember these?” satoru questions you softly once he re-enters the bathroom — sinking to his knees despite the tight fitting black tux that he wears. your eyes drift over his handsomely aged face, firm and muscled form, down to the pair of heels he holds in his grasp. their white leather and red bottom sole are all too familiar to you. a pair of christian louboutin heels fresh from the box. 

setting the pair of shoes down, satoru gently takes one of your ankles in his hold and positions it perfectly to slip your foot into the heel. “you wore them to our wedding, way back when. i remember that you spent hours deliberating between the kate model and the hot chick model. even still, i always loved how they looked on you,” he reminisces, lips ghosting over your thigh and thumbs smoothing up your calves once your foot is secured in its shoe.  “how they make your legs look.” 

he wiggles his eyebrows up at you then, making you snort under the dim lighting in your bathroom like two teenagers struggling to get out of their clothes after a night out. “satoru!” you squeal, pushing at his shoulder with your bare foot. “focus, we’ve got to leave soon,” your husband nods, working your other heel on while you reminisce. “i thought i lost the original pair in one of the boxes when we moved to the bigger house for the baby.” 

blue eyes shoot up to meet yours, holding so much love and adoration for you. “not too tight, right?” gojo whispers, rubbing at the back of your foot to make sure the leather material isn’t hurting you. you shake your head, earning yourself a kiss to the knee. “you did. lose them. i remember how upset you were, so i figured i’d get you a replacement pair. they might be a little different but—“ 

“but they’re perfect, thank you baby,” even after all this time, satoru remains the most thoughtful partner you’ve ever had. you swear to yourself that you’ll cherish him always, look after him always. even after life and even in death. “i love them.”

“i love you.” gojo says tenderly, taking a stand and offering you his hand all in one swift movement. “now cinderella, i do believe our carriage awaits. our Uber driver has just set a timer and i’ll be damned if he drives away with my damn money.” 

with that, you let your husband whisk you away for a romantic dinner — expensive and cherished red bottom heels clicking against the pavement while the wind carries your joint laughter as you run like fools for your uber (much to megumi’s dismay). 

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[poppystheories]

Tyki’s reaction to being slapped fascinates me. This guy gets slapped by a helpless exorcist that's fully at his mercy and he kinda likes it. It wasn’t a weak slap either! Despite the state Allen’s in, it left a mark! But Tyki just laughs it off. Settles down to chat. Lights himself a cigarette.

Let’s face it. It’s charming.

I really like the contrast between Allen’s first meeting with Road and his first meeting with Tyki. Road had no intention of killing Allen from the start, and she wasn't really there to destroy any Innocence, but she gets incredibly rough with him: nailing his arm to the wall, stabbing his eye out, making a pincushion out of him with her candles. She fully delights in the bodily harm.

Tyki’s here to kill Allen and destroy his Innocence. That’s already decided. But he doesn’t brutalize him at any point.

Because Tyki's so casual, you keep thinking: hey, Allen’s going to get out of this totally fine. Someone is going to show up and save him. Lenalee should be looking for him. We haven’t seen the others in a while, so they must be on their way. Someone is going to arrive in the nick of time to save Allen, and everything’s going to be fine. We still have to get to Japan, after all.

But no one comes.

The scene progresses. Tyki keeps talking, he shows off his power a bit, tries to play with Allen like he played with the others. Tries to make him scared, maybe beg a little. He’s fooling around with the prey he’s already caught, like a cat.

But Allen's not scared, and Tyki backs off. The actual physical torture isn't the appeal for him, so if his victim isn't scared there's no reason to get violent.

So now you're thinking, wow, this guy is gonna regret taking his time when someone finally arrives! What a classic villain fumble; failing your mission because you were too busy monologuing.

But no one comes.

Tyki pulls out the card the Earl gave him. And you find out Tyki’s been searching for Allen. Specifically.

That’s bad, but it's okay. It'll be fine. Someone is going—

You turn the page, and Tyki is ripping Allen’s arm off. No warning, no posturing. One second Allen is fine—someone is going to save him, any second now, Tyki hasn’t even hurt him yet—and the next Allen’s fucking Innocence is on the forest floor.

Tyki keeps talking, smiling. Nothing about his demeanor has changed.

He destroys Allen's Innocence. Like it's nothing.

And at this point, you start to realize, maybe no one is coming. Or if they are, it’s already too late.

Tim gets sent away. He can go get help. But, now Allen’s truly alone with the assassin sent to kill him—if anyone’s coming, it has to be now! Where is everyone?!

Right on cue, you finally get to see the other characters.

And they’re still on the fucking ship.

Then maybe Lenalee—

No. Lenalee’s also at the ship. Tyki has his hand hovering over Allen’s chest and Lenalee’s at the goddamn ship.

No one is coming, you realize. No one was ever coming.

And just like that, Tyki kills Allen. Intimately, with a smile. He wants it to be slow, but quiet. He wants Allen to feel how helpless he really is.

Tyki's a serial killer: we've seen him stage his victims before, like leaving Daisya hanging like some kind of grisly ornament. We saw the state he left the General in.

Allen, however, gets more artistic treatment; he's by the far the favorite of Tyki's victims so far, and Tyki doesn't want to disturb the pretty picture he's already made too much, but it needs a little extra flair, doesn't it? A more personal touch.

So he scatters his own gift to Allen over him: a little something to suit his white hair and black coat and red scars, and the last thing we see is the black crescent of despair. Put there quite deliberately; it is not a typical image to appear on a Joker card.

Volume 6 ends, just like that.

It really is a merciless ending. You can't believe that the protagonist will really die here, but even if he somehow survives, his Innocence has been destroyed. The entire scene is built around your expectations as a reader that the protagonist can't die, so someone will save him, or there will be some other interference.

But no. No one was ever coming to save Allen; not this time.

And that? That has consequences.

[theorphicangel]

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 | 𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary: where better for Toji to ponder on his journey of love than during a late night meal with you?

tags: suggestive and allusions/ mentions of sex but no description (18+), fluff :)

Your bedside alarm clock reflected the red numbers of 10:34pm when you finally heard a key through the door.

With aching limbs you manage to escape from the messy and tangled bedsheets. The scent of sweat, sex and his perfume imprinted on your skin. With a shiver, your bare feet meet the cold oak floor as you manage to pick up one of Toji’s shirts.

It was a black shirt, one which was clearly too big for you but that’s what you love about it.

The black fabric reached past your thighs and tickled at your knees which were bruised and marked with his kisses. Before taking another step you took a moment to breathe in Toji’s husky scent mixed with the cologne you had bought for his previous birthday.

What snaps you out of your daze is the call of your name which was muffled by white walls and a closed door. With excitement and yearn, you don’t hesitate to find your way to your lover. He was only gone for a little over thirty minutes yet a minute somehow feels like forever without him.

Opening the bedroom door with a slight creak you’re met with the delicious sight of Toji standing in your open kitchen. The first thing that you notice is that his raven locks are damp, dripping down his neck. His black leather jacket mirrors this, soaked through and through.

“Tried my best not to get the food soaked for ya, s’raining like a bitch out there.”

That’s when you notice white bags sitting on the countertop and the aroma of your favorite takeaway fills the room like a flood. Normally, you would rush over to where Toji stands, more than eager to dig into your food yet instead your figure stands frozen at the view of Toji all soaked and wet in your shared kitchen.

If you could take a snapshot of his figure you most definitely would, the faint ache between your thighs threatening to return for an nth time.

“Why’re ya standing there like an idiot?” Toji mutters, noticing your figure yet not even turning around to look at you. He had noticed your presence almost immediately but was waiting for you to approach and dive into the food. He had gotten your usual order plus a few desserts if you wanted it.

With quiet footsteps you creep towards him and wrap your arms around his waist. The cold and dampness of his leather jacket sharply contrasted with your warm figure, his jacket dampens your shirt causing goosebumps across your body.

“M’ wet, lemme change first.” he tuts. Outloud, he doesn’t say this but the thought of you getting sick did cross his mind.

“Missed you.” It came out as a mumble, barely coherent to him, nothing more but a mere vibration on his back. Yet – and you weren’t sure whether this was due to his previous profession as an assassin – no matter how quiet you were, whether speaking or moving around the house, Toji always heard you.

You teased him for being a super secret spy but really his skills were that defined.

You feel a huff escape from his lungs, “I wasn’t even gone for an hour.”

“Still miss you.”

“Mhmm, you’re a clingy brat aren’t ya?”

“Only for you.” You reply with a smile and before he knows it you’ve peeled away his leather jacket exposing his physic in a black shirt. Sure, that’s a little damp too but you leave him be.

You rest the leather jacket out to dry and a thought passes on whether you should get Toji his more comfortable clothes, as soon as he sees your brows furrow he’s read your mind and waves a hand in decline.

Must be a secret mind reader too.

“I’ll be fine for now, doll.”

The two of you settle into a comfortable silence, a minor hum echoing throughout the house. It’s a small yet modern apartment, perfect for the two of you. Before, Toji was used to bouncing around between homes under a temporary contract but upon meeting you, he finally got the chance to find a space he could call his permanent home.

Toji’s emerald eyes pore over you now, cheeks stuffed with as much food you can muster into your mouth. You’re glowing and happy, he notices, and very comfortable in his shirt. He muses over your features, watching how your nose scrunches up at every taste of explosive flavor and listens to your hums of approval.

He’s staring so much you think that you have something on your face.

You wipe at your mouth with the back of your hand frantically. “What?” you asked, voice muffled as you chewed your food.

Talking with your mouth full would be a classic pet peeve for anyone, but for him, there was nothing which could deter him away from you.

Toji hesitates before responding and you notice a certain gleam in his eye. A gleam that you’ve rarely been a witness to. You can recall maybe three of the times you’ve caught the same look in his eye. Once, during the first time he stayed over and the two of you stayed up talking till the early hours of the morning, you had learned so much about him then.

Another time was just after a session of sex, you swore you were so sweaty and gross at the time but he claims you just looked so pretty at the time.

The only other time you caught onto that gleam was when he had proposed to you. It came out a little rushed and timid from the ex-assassin but the look in his eyes told you all that you needed to know. The man was whipped for you.

Little do you know that there have been numerous moments where that certain gleam appears but you’re just too oblivious to catch on.

“Marry me.”

“I am, idiot.” you mimic his nickname from earlier. The engagement ring sits perfectly on your hand, the ring which Toji had spent months saving up for. Sure it was pricey but not as pricey as the rings for your wedding which he was currently searching for. Maybe he’ll pick up some jobs from Shiu again to afford it, no killings of course.

No, he doesn’t think he could return to that again but perhaps some jobs as a bodyguard would suffice.

“What’re you thinking about?”

You catch him off-guard, a deep furrow of his brows creating a frown. You’ve known Toji for too long to notice that something was wrong.

“Is something wrong with the food?”

“No,” Toji mutters, “I was just thinking.”

“About what?”

“You.”

You let out a snort before taking another bite of your food. Again you speak, cheeks full with food.

“You sap.”

“Weren’t ya the one who tried to suffocate me when I was only gone for twenty minutes?”

“Thirty actually.” you correct before taking a bite of your food.

“Who’s counting?”

“Your fiancée.”

Toji can’t help but feel his blood pressure soar at the mere mention of the engagement. There, deep within his gut came a tingling sensation of the newfound emotion of happiness he had found, a sharp realization that this was not just some too good to be true fantasy but you were actually going to be marrying him. And only in a couple months time.

Sure, fiancée sounded great but Toji reckons the sound of you being his wife will do inexplicable things to him.

Toji feels his heart swell just at the thought. “Say yes, again.”

“A thousand times over.”

A small smile appears on his lips, Toji shakes his head, his fork stabbing into the takeout platter next to you. “Who’s the sap now?”

The rest of the meal continues under a light atmosphere, a feeling of warmth continues to gush through Toji’s body. This is exactly where he needs to be and there was no other place where he would rather be. It’s the nights like these that really counts for him.

Nights like these which he wouldn’t exchange for anything else. He can only hope that you feel the same and you easily reassure him with a smile, similar to the one you gave him at your first ever encounter.

If there’s one thing he’ll try his damn hardest to do in this life it’ll be keeping you happy.

Till death do you apart.

reblogs are much appreciated!!

Join my summer event!

[bwabys-scenarios]

A familiar werewolf

Part 1

Werewolf!Kurapika x Witch!Fem!Reader

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

A/N: This is supposed to be an AO3 exclusive, but I decided to post the first part here in case y’all like it. I WILL ONLY CONTINUE TO POST THIS SERIES HERE IF THIS PART DOES WELL! If you want me to continue posting this on tumblr, COMMENT, LIKE, REBLOG!

if you’d like to be ADDED to the taglist, please comment a red heart ❤️, make sure you’re able to be tagged/mentioned, and have your age in your bio(IF YOU ARE ALREADY ON THE TAGLIST, YOU DON’T NEED TO ASK TO BE ADDED AGAIN!!)

It was finally spring, a time where flowers bloomed and the snow melted away to reveal all kinds of herbs and plants for the little witch (Name) to gather.

Today she was doing just that, gathering herbs to begin making more potions. Through the winter, her stock of salves and potions had grown smaller and smaller, until she only had a few left.

(Name) had customers that would be coming by any day now to buy her goods, so she was determined to go out and hunt for all the ingredients she would need.

She was a good witch, focusing on healing salves and helping the villagers nearby. It was partially out of the goodness of her heart, and partly because she wanted to keep a good relationship with the townspeople so they didn’t grab their pitchforks and torches to chase her out of town with.

So (Name) grabbed her hat, wearing a thick pair of boots to protect her feet from the thorny vegetation. She was always careful when visiting the forest. After all, there were rumors that many magical beasts made it their home.

Along the path, she spotted small clusters of mint, frowning. “Mint is so invasive, I thought I told the villagers not to plant it in the ground…”

(Name) did her best to dig up and pick what she could, then moved on along the path. Mushrooms, herbs, and pretty rocks all found a new home in her basket. After searching for a while, she wiped the sweat from her brow. ‘Hmm… I should still have some time to go by the lake before I go home… I wonder if anything is growing near the water's edge..?’

(Name) stepped on a branch as she neared the lake, ready to search for aquatic plant life and maybe even find a good spot to go fishing!

But before she could get too close, (Name) heard a loud howl that made her freeze in her tracks. When she turned, she spotted it.

There was a large, golden wolf near the water’s edge, its ears pinned back and snarling. From the water dripping from its furry chin, the witch assumed it had just been drinking from the lake before she interrupted it by making noise.

She was quick to hold up her hands in a sign of surrender, talking in an even voice. “Easy, boy, I’ll go,”

Backing up slowly, (Name) made sure not to meet the wolf’s eyes, though she did notice they were a sparkling shade of scarlet she had never seen before.

The beast huffed, watching her for a moment longer before turning back to drink. Once it did, she broke out in a sprint, her basket held firmly against her chest. (Name) knew the forest wasn’t exactly safe, but she had never encountered a wild animal besides some chipmunks and bunnies.

‘I’ve never seen a wolf with that coloration before…’ (Name) thought, putting away her foraged goods once she arrived home. ‘Maybe it’s an albino or something? But wouldn’t it’s fur be more white then?’

Despite being a little afraid, (Name) couldn’t get her mind off of the wolf she had seen before. It was easily the top predator in the forest, yet it only gave her a warning growl before minding its business again. Was that normal wolf behavior? She had no idea.

‘I’m thinking too much…’ (Name) thought, changing into her pajamas. ‘I need to sleep, or I’ll be late to the coven meeting tomorrow…’

Turning over, (Name) wondered what exactly she would even speak about during the meeting. She wasn’t exactly the most confident witch, often being spoken over or ignored due to her shy nature. No one would think she was the very first apprentice Biscuit Krueger, the head of the very coven (Name) was a part of.

‘I may have been her first apprentice, but I’m definitely not her best. Gon and Killua have me beat for sure…’ she thought, rolling over onto her side to stare out of the window.

Through the gaps in the curtains, she could see the moon shining up above, big and full. It’s light bathed her in a soft glow, and made her feel both rejuvenated and relaxed.

‘It’ll be okay… after all, I have friends there. Everything should… be fine…’

(Name) drifted off to sleep, the last image on her mind before she was taken to slumberland being the golden wolf peering at her with those scarlet eyes.

—————

(Name) packed a small basket full of jams and jellies, humming a tune as she carefully stacked a small jar of syrup on the top. “I know Menchi won’t be there to day, but Bisky loves my jams and jellies. Hopefully I’ll actually have a chance to speak with her…”

Bisky, being the head of the coven, was always busy. She was usually stuck talking with several other witches about various topics, or leaving early to conduct business with other covens. Getting the opportunity to talk to her was rare enough, but being able to sit down and have a conversation was nearly impossible, especially these days.

There had recently been several cases of witches and their familiars disappearing, or even familiars turning in their masters and killing then, so Bisky was especially busy dealing with the aftermath.

Each witch had a familiar bestowed upon them during a ceremony after becoming a full fledged witch. Some even had two or three, and witches with high status and great power possessed up to 10 familiars.

And there was (Name), with no familiar at all. At the ceremony, the wizard conducting it simply turned her away, saying she was not yet ready to become the master of familiar. Every other witch present had received their lifelong friend, while she went home empty handed.

It was lonely, all on her own. Watching the other witches go about their lives with the help and support of their familiars made her feel awfully… jealous. It wasn’t a feeling she enjoyed harboring, so (Name) tried her best to be positive!

Bisky herself had said that it wasn’t unheard of for a witch to not receive their familiar during the bonding ceremony.

“Some witches just haven’t found their match yet, or perhaps they haven’t really found their true selves,” Bisky had said after the ceremony, in hopes of comforting (Name).

(Name) huffed, loading her basket onto her broom. “So much for being a late bloomer. It’s been nearly five years since I became a full fledged witch, and still nothing! No familiar, not a cat or owl, not even a frog! Hell, I’d settle for a tarantula at this point!”

She flew over the forest, tilting her head when she spotted a spot of gold walking slowly near the lake. (Name) flew a bit lower, her eyes widening when she spotted the same wolf she’d seen the day before.

This time, it seemed to be walking with a bit of a limp, a small trail of blood behind it. Her heart ached to see an animal in such pain, so she landed a safe distance away from it.

“Hey there, pup.”

The wolf stiffened, quickly turning its head to growl lowly at her. (Name) held up her hands, her broom floating behind her in case she needed a quick escape.

“Woah, easy. You’re hurt, and I can help you if you’ll let me.”

She didn’t know why she was talking to it, but she kept it up. “There’s no need to be afraid, sweetheart. Shh…”

The wolf’s ears flattened against its head, and it began to bare its teeth. (Name) yelped when it began to approach her, jumping on her broom just in time to escape its jaws. It snapped at her broom bristles, but she was thankfully in the air by then and bar away enough from its jaws to not get hurt.

But… the wolf didn’t seem to be trying too hard to chase her. (Name) had a feeling it wasn’t actually attacking her, more so just trying to scare her away.

She frowned as the wolf became a small speck, her heart hurting for the poor thing. (Name) hoped that the poachers that her fellow witches had chased out from the forest years ago weren’t back.

‘I’ll have to talk to Bisky about it… if I can talk to her that is.’

—————

(Name) landed in a vast meadow, wild flowers of various kinds softly swaying in the spring breeze. She took a moment to relax, bending down to pick a daily and place it in her basket.

‘Oh, I always forget where the doorway is…’ she thought to herself as she held out the stick end of her broom to feel around. When it bumped off of something solid, she grinned.

“There it is!”

(Name) reached forward and patted the surface until her hand landed on a doorknob. She turned it, and walked forward.

The empty flower field was replaced with a dark forested area, with lampposts leading down a snowy, worn down path. She could see the moon shining down through the canopy, filtered by the thick leaves until only small rays of light were visible.

‘I see the meeting is being hosted in the northern lands this time…’ she thought, pulling her cloak tighter around herself. The northern lands were often cold, even when spring came, snow still covered the land.

Each meeting was hosted in one of the four sectors of the world, North, South, East, and West. The north was her least favorite, due to the cold weather and people. The citizens of the north were often blunt and rude, having to time for warm pleasantries.

(Name) lived in the southern lands, where the weather was always warm and pleasant. Even the most severe winters in the south were not as cold as the northern spring.

She spotted the soft warm glow of a candle shining from a canon window. ‘There it is!’

(Name) opened the cabin door, revealing a bustling meeting hall. Witches all ages and genders walked around, speaking to one another and trading goods.

“(Name)!”

The woman yelped when she was tackled to the floor, knowing instantly who had done it.

“Gon, what did I tell you about jumping on her like some wild animal!?”

“Gon, Killua…” she smiled as she watched Killua drag his friend off of her, pinching his cheek.

“Hi, (Name)! It’s been so long since we’ve gotten to see you!”

She laughed, ruffling their hair. “Yeah, nearly three months. You weren’t able to attend the last few meetings due to Bisky’s training, right?”

The two shuddered. “Uh… we’d rather not talk about that.”

(Name) could remember her own training, which would have been way less intense than theirs due to her weaker body. Even so, she collapsed nearly every day from exhaustion, so she could only imagine the horrors they had endured.

“Ah… okay, how about you show me how your training has been coming along then?”

The three sat in an empty room as the two showed her new, complex spells they had learned. Killua was able to summon lightning and use it as a weapon, while Gon was able to harden his body. Both were spells even she couldn’t do.

“Oh wow, you’ve grown so much! Maybe that training was worth it then?”

Killua groaned. “Barely, I didn’t think we were going to survive another day of it.”

“Aww, it wasn’t that b- no, actually it was that bad. But I’m still grateful Bisky taught us so well!” Gon replied, giving her a smile.

She gave them both a hug. “I’m proud of you both. You should really come visit me sometime. Spring is here, so you can go play in the forest. There a lake~”

This excited the two, who both enjoyed swimming. “We'll definitely be coming by this summer!”

Before they could speak anymore, they heard a bell chiming. “Oh, we’ll talk later. The meeting is about to start!”

(Name) took her seat near Bisky. As her first apprentice, she had to be at Bisky’s side for every meeting. That didn’t mean she got Bisky’s attention, though. She couldn’t blame her mentor, for she was the leader of this coven.

“Hello, my friends. Our monthly meeting has begun, and I will announce any upcoming events before opening the floor for discussion.”

(Name) looked around the room, unsurprised when she saw multiple witches waiting impatiently for the floor to be open.

It was mostly the same elderly witches that always had some mundane problem… but what was surprising was Neon, one of the fledgling witches that hadn’t yet gotten her familiar, anxiously tapping her well manicured nails against the oak table.

“And with that, the floor is open to discussion.” Bisky said after finishing her announcements. Neon was quick to speak up, interrupting an elder.

“Some creature has been lurking in the south, killing my father’s livestock and scaring what it doesn’t eat half to death! It’s some kind of magical beast, I already did the identifying spell and it’s either some type of fae or a…”

She trailed off, her face going pale. Bisky raised an eyebrow, folding her arms. “A what, Neon?”

“A… a werewolf.”

The sound of gasps and whispered conversation filled the meeting hall, only silenced when Bisky held up her hand to motion for the noise to cease.

“And you’re sure that’s what the spell said?”

Neon nodded, standing up to offer her grimoire. Bisky’s eyes scanned it, then she sighed heavily. “I see…”

(Name) frowned deeply, glancing from Neon to Bisky. She knew that Neon lived only half a day’s walk from her home, meaning if there was a werewolf causing trouble for her, it could potentially move onto (Name).

“As we all know, magical beasts are drawn to witches due to their magical power. This is good when it comes to making friends or getting a familiar, but leads to some… detrimental outcomes when the wrong creature gets attracted. And with the recent uptick in werewolf based attacks, I wouldn’t doubt this has troubled you, Neon.”

Bisky stood, walking around the table. “But be that as it may, werewolves are not evil in nature. They are simply beings that are different from us, and can be reasoned with and befriended just like most magical beasts.”

One witch scoffed. “Miss Bisky, with all due respect, all witches know werewolves are dangerous beasts that deserve to be put down to keep ourselves safe. I mean, haven’t the last three witch deaths been caused by werewolves?”

Bisky scowled. “That’s the kind of attitude that causes entire species to go extinct. A few werewolves have done wrong, yes, but how many humans have killed each other or other creatures? Do we all deserve to die due to the actions of a few individuals?”

The witch who spoke up immediately shrunk into herself, grumbling under her breath. (Name) noticed that several other witches also looked displeased with Bisky’s words, but said nothing.

“Neon, I’ll send you home with a spell that will ward off any fae or werewolves. It’s easy, and very effective.”

“Thank you, Bisky!”

The woman turned to the rest of the coven. “Now, what else needs to be discussed?”

———————-

“I respect Miss Bisky’s opinion, but werwolves are dangerous beasts!”

“I know, right? My friend’s cousin’s aunt’s stepbrother was killed by a werewolf!”

“And I heard that once a werewolf has seen you, it’ll tell its whole pack to come and eat you!”

“Oh that’s not the half of it! I heard-“

(Name) rolled her eyes as she passed by a group of gossiping witches, ushering Killua and Gon away. “Don’t listen to them, I’m sure not a single one of them have ever even seen a werewolf in person.”

“Have you, (Name)?”

(Name) paused when Gon asked her that innocent question, sighing softly. “Yes, once before. It was only for a moment while Bisky went to meet with one for a trade. It gave her some of its fur for a potion in exchange for a protection spell.”

“So… it didn’t attack you or Bisky?”

“Nope, so don’t listen to those witches. Not one single creature is the exact same as its kin. Some are more peaceful, some are violent, just like with humans. Once people come to accept that, we could possibly form an alliance with the werewolves.”

Killua huffed, digging in her satchel. Once he found what he was looking for, a bag of handmade candy, he swiped it. “Hey, you remembered to bring it!”

“Of course I did, silly. It’s your favorite.”

Killua popped one of the candies into his mouth as they walked, humming in delight. Gon grabbed one too. “Did you get to talk to Bisky, (Name)?”

The woman sighed, handing out her jam and syrup to a few witches she traded with. “Not yet, but I hope I’ll be able to catch her before she leaves. You know Bisky, she’s always busy.”

“You’re not wrong, but today I have a little bit of time to spare.”

The three jumped when they heard Bisky’s voice from behind them. “Bisky!”

(Name) jumped into her arms, easily being held up by the seemingly young looking girl. Everyone in the coven knew that Bisky was much older than she seemed, but little knew of her immense physical strength.

“Oh, (Name) my dear, you’ve gotten a bit bigger haven't you? It feels like just yesterday I was carrying you home from the orphanage and giving you your first wand.”

“B-Bisky! That’s embarrassing…”

The woman laughed, setting (Name) down. “Alright, alright… what is it you wanted to talk about, dear?”

(Name) gave Bisky a shy smile, handing her the jams and jellies she brought for her. “I wanted to give your u these and ask how the situation with the rogue familiars has been going.”

Bisky stiffened, glancing to the two boys before digging. “Come, (Name). Let’s discuss things in private.”

With a wave of her wand, (Name) and Bisky were transported to a vacant room. Bisky made sure the door was closed before beginning to speak in a hushed voice.

“I didn’t want to scare anyone, so I’ve been keeping some of the information private. But…” she sighed, looking out the window, into the snow. “Every single familiar that attacked their witch was a werewolf.”

(Name)’s blood ran cold at the revelation, her eyes widening as Bisky turned to meet her gaze. “Every single one? That’s…”

“Unusual, I know. Werewolves in and of themselves are rare to have as a familiar because they’re reluctant to be bound to a witch… so the fact that each familiar was a werewolf is suspicious.”

“What could be the motive? I find it hard to believe a familiar would just kill its master like that! In all of witch history, I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

Bisky opened her own grimoire. “I agree with you, it is hard to believe. But the detection spell pointed to each familiar being a werewolf. We have yet to find and question any of the suspects due to them fleeing the scene once the bond to their master was broken…”

(Name) frowned deeply. “And with what Neon said today, if this news got out, the entire coven will be in hysterics. There will be werewolf hunts and-“

“That’s why they can’t find out. You are the only person outside of my trusted inner circle that knows of this, (Name).”

She looked at Bisky, confused. “But why would you tell me, Bisky? I’m not as strong or intelligent as others, so why would you give me this information and not someone more qualified?”

Bisky smiled at that, chuckling. “That, I cannot say my dear. You are destined for great things, and I just want you to be informed so when it’s time for you to make decisions… you’ll have all the information you need to make the right choice.”

“That’s really cryptic, Bisky.”

The older woman only smiled, beckoning her to follow. “Come, I must take my leave. Let’s walk and talk.”

The two continued to chat as they walked towards the entrance of the cabin. “I’ll send you home with a spell, dear. It is quite late in the southerners sector by now, hmm?”

(Name) nodded, grabbing hold of her broom.

“Oh, and (Name)?”

She looked up as Bisky raised her wand. “Yes?”

“Kindness and patience is always key.”

With that, she was sent home. She appeared in her cottage, the fire lighting the second she stepped close.

“I wonder what she meant by that…”

———————

(Name) brushed off her dress, staring out into the forest. She really had to go back into the forest to gather supplies… but she was worried she would encounter that wolf again.

With a sigh, she pocketed her wand and carried her broom. They were just there in case she sensed any danger. Unfortunately, she wasn’t great with defensive or attack spells, it was why she took to healing magic and concoctions instead.

But she knew a few illusion spells that may buy her some time to escape… hopefully those would work.

(Name) walked along the work down path, much more alert than usual. She listened for the sounds of the forest, making sure to listen for any branches snapping or leaves rustling.

She was able to make it back to the lake with no problems, sighing in relief. There, she unloaded her jars from her basket and began placing shells, underwater plantlife, and some of the nutrient rich soil to add to her garden.

Unbeknownst to her, she was being watched from a distance, a pair of scarlet eyes following her as she walked along the lake’s edge.

Once she finished, (Name) was surprised to see the wolf with the golden coat standing only a few meters away from her. Although it growled when she moved, it made no other signs of aggression, only watching her… as if it was curious.

“Hello, again…” (Name) said softly, staying still as it approached. She kept her hand in her pocket on her wand, but began to relax. It only circled her, chuffing when it moved behind her.

She tensed, but relaxed again when it appeared on her left side. It was inspecting her, sniffing her… was that normal behavior for a wild animal?

Its scarlet eyes focused on her, and she noticed it still had that slight limp when it walked. “Are you… injured?”

As if it could understand her, the creature tensed, the fur on its back rising. “Oh, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to upset you…”

Taking a chance, she slowly reached out her hand to place it on its head. She had a connection with animals, having rehabilitated many woodland creatures. A wolf couldn’t be that different, right?

Well, she was wrong. The beast growled before snapping its jaws at her hand, barely missing her fingers. It then ran away, slower than it usually would be due to its injured paw.

Her heart hurt from the sight. Had it been trying to ask her for help? It was possible the poor thing was someone’s pet that had been let go after learning how hard it was to take care of a wolf. Maybe that’s why it was both comfortable around humans and also weary of them?

(Name) made a decision that day. She would gain that wolf’s trust, and maybe… even make it her familiar.

———————

As the days turned into weeks, (Name) visited the forest every day she could. She saw the wolf often, sometimes from the corner of her eye, and sometimes it came in direct contact with her.

She always sat patiently, letting it come to her. (Name) had learned her lesson, and eventually she was able to sit in silence with the wolf by her side as she did mundane tasks like cleaning out her jars or sewing by the lake.

It had yet to let her touch it, but she didn’t mind. She would get it to trust her… it needed medical attention, more than she thought. It was scrawny, hungry looking, as if it was having trouble hunting by itself.

She started bringing out raw meat from the market and leaving it by the lake for it, and when its condition started to improve slowly, she knew that it was eating.

Once she started feeding it, the wolf began trusting her a great deal more. It now followed her down the pathway when she walked home, a slight sway in its tail.

She was making great progress, and the two seemed to have a mutual trust that neither would hurt the other. Every time she came to the lake, it was waiting there for her. It would eat, then sit nearby as she did what she needed to do, then walked her home. It had become her routine.

That’s why it surprised her when it wasn’t there when she came.

“Pup?”

(Name) called for it, patting her thigh and whistling. Usually it would have come to greet her by now…

The silence in the forest was almost eerie, as if everything was holding its breath. There was no birdsong, no squirrels skittering from tree to tree… just silence.

“Something is wrong…”

It was growing dark, and she was hurrying back as quickly as she could. (Name) had heard from some other forest dwelling witches that when the sounds of the forest stopped, that meant there was a large predator around, something that made the squirrels and birds hide in fear.

Had the wolf gone into hiding too?

She didn’t have to wonder for long. As she neared her cottage, her eyes widened in horror. There were bloodied paw prints leading down the stone path to her front door, and laying on her doorstep was the golden wolf.

It panted loudly, its fur matted with blood. (Name) immediately kneeled at its side, trying to hold back tears. The injured paw was trapped in a bear trap, and it had gashed on its belly and back… as it had been attacked with a knife…

When it growled at her touch, she simply shushed it. “Shh, shh, I’m here. You came to my home for a reason, right? I can help you…”

Although it still snarled and yelped as she hoisted it into her home with great effort, it made no attempts to sink its teeth into her flesh.

As soon as it was inside, she summoned as many bandages as she could, along with a metal bar to help her pry the bear trap off.

“This is going to hurt, pup. Don’t bite me…”

The wolf laid its head down, as if telling her it trusted her to help. It growled and snarled in pain as she pried open the bear trap. Once its paw was free, she examined the damage.

His paw was barely hanging on… thankfully she focused on healing magic. She was able to reattach his paw and clean the wound, bandaging it before moving onto the gashed on his body.

(Name) collapsed in exhaustion after hours of working on the wolf. Her efforts had paid off, as it was now sleeping peacefully by the fire.

‘At least one of us is able to sleep…’ she thought, rising from the couch to wash the blood from her hands. She’s exhausted all of her magic saving the wolf’s life, which worried her slightly. That meant if it were to attack for any reason, she wouldn’t be able to defend herself.

After much thought, she realized that even if it wanted to hurt her, it would be unable. The thing couldn’t stand, much less leap out and attack her, so she decided to sleep next to it… just to watch over it, of course… the fact that it was so soft and warm had nothing to do with it…

———————-

(Name) woke up in the early hours of the morning, the sun not even up yet. She could have only been asleep for a few hours, as the fire was still going…

She sat up, yawning and rubbing her eyes… but paused when she took a second look at the fire.

She hasn’t remembered putting that second log in the fireplace… before she slept, she had even cursed herself for not doing so.

(Name) felt a chill run up her spine and immediately turned to see if the wolf was okay… but instead of seeing its beautiful golden fur and large form m, she was met with something much smaller hidden under the blanket…

Smaller, but still bigger than her, whatever it was wriggled the second she spoke. “U-um…”

She expected the wolf to perhaps be some kind of magical beast that turned into something smaller when injured to conserve power… and she wasn’t that far off.

When she pulled back the blanket, instead of a furred creature, she came face to face with a handsome… man?

“… hello…”

For finding a man in the place of the injured wolf she saved, (Name) took the situation well. And by well, she screamed and scooted away, wielding her wand.

“W-who are you and what did you do to that wolf!? Are you some kind of poacher? A pervert? A poaching pervert!?”

The person squinted at her, sighing. “No… I’m neither of those… I-“

He winced in pain, whimpering as the blanket fell around him. (Name)’s eyes went wide as she saw the bandages decorating his form, the same ones she had applied to the wolf last night…

The things that finally clued her in were the wolf ears perched atop of his blonde head, and tail limp on his back.

“Y-you’re…”

“A werewolf…” he muttered, his ears flattening against his head. “You… helped me, and… I understand if you no longer want to help now that you know what I am. I simply ask that… you let me recover until I am able to move…”

She swallowed, shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter what you are. You’re hurt, and I won’t let you suffer.”

The man looked on in mild shock as she helped him onto the couch. “This should be more comfortable… I’ll need to redo your bandages soon…”

The man watched her work silently. She redressed his wounds with a skill that was uncommon for women in their era. Once she was done, it was only then that her eyes trailed down his torso to look for anything else that she may have missed when his thick fur was in the way…

“Oh.”

Her face warmed, her eyes going wide.

He was completely and utterly nude, barely covering his groin with the blanket. His wolf ear twitched as she turned away, flustered.

‘I forgot, werewolves lose their clothing when they turn…’

For now, she simply covered him with a blanket, too tired to do anything else. With that, she left him to sleep on the couch and headed to bed.

‘What am I going to do? There’s a werewolf on my couch, right after Neon mentioned one eating her livestock. Is it the same one..? Could it… be connected to the familiars going rogue?’

She sighed, pulling the blanket up to her chin. ‘Well, whatever the case is, it’s my responsibility now. I decided to save its life, and I don’t regret it. Once it’s back to full health, I’ll think of what to do…’

With that decided, she drifted off to sleep, exhausted from her long day.

———————

In the living room, the werewolf stared up at the ceiling, his head filled with the images of the events he had been through.

‘I thought they lost my trail… those damn poachers will do anything to complete their collection…’

His heart ached to think of his clan, their coats skinned from their bodies after they were forced to transform and fight each other for their captors’ amusement. It made his blood boil to think of how scared the pups must have been, how the elders must have died comforting them with their final breaths, just for all of their words to mean nothing in the end.

He hated humans and their endless lust for money and power. For years he had avoided human contact, stued in his wolf form and attacked anyone that came near in fear of being hurt again…

That was until he met her.

Even before they officially met, he had been stalking her through the woods for months. At first, he had planned on killing her and taking over her cabin for himself. In his mind, it was only fair. Humans killed and stole from nature every single day, honestly he thought he was doing the world a favor taking one of them out.

But (Name) wasn’t like other humans. Every day, he watched her take only what she needed, and left behind gifts for the fairies and animals. She tended to the wounded creatures and made sure she never over stayed her welcome.

It would be dishonest to say he likes her, but she was the closest thing to tolerable a human could get in his eyes. So when he met her, he found himself unable to hurt her.

Though at first he kept his distance and attempted to bite her if she strayed too close, he never intended to actually hurt her. If he wanted to, he could have easily tore into her throat and feasted on her flesh… but he didn’t.

This human, this girl had become something akin to a friend to him. Despite his hatred for her kind, he couldn’t help following after her and staying by her side. It felt soothing, safe… almost familiar in a way. It reminded him of when he was just a pup and would follow behind his mother while she hunted or gathered ingredients for dinner.

So when he was attacked by the very poachers that killed his family, he escaped with only one thing in mind.

‘I have to find her!’

He followed her scent, barely dragging his wounded hide to her home and collapsing on the front step. He never would have thought that he would trust a human to help him, not after what he had been put through.

Even now, as he laid there powerless and unable to move, his mind was still conflicted. Was this really okay? Could he truly rely on this human to tend to him when he was utterly defenseless?

‘It doesn’t really look like I have much of a choice…’

Winning his trust would not be easy, but if she could… (Name) would gain a loyal companion.

Only time could tell what would become of these two…

[tuesdayiminlove]

imperfect for you

rockstar!eddie x fem!waitress!reader

summary: it's hard, in the early stages, to grasp who exactly it is you're dating, and if you're worth the time in the end. good thing he doesn't see anything else but you.

author's note: inspired by the ariana grande song. i can't listen to it without thinking of eddie. this is just a small blurb, but lmk if u wanna see more of them and maybe i'll turn this into a mini series :)

word count: 1.6k

Working the closing shift at the diner is a peaceful predicament. 

But one hand, a yawn escapes your lips as the clock ticks by abnormally slow, the large arrow pointing to the number eleven. You lean against the counter, organizing salt and pepper shakers in a deliberate rhythm—making sure not to disrupt the quiet peace you have made in your little bubble. 

On the other hand, it’s nice to watch the sun fall  from the steamy, glass windows from Carly’s Diner, the red and blue hues reflecting from the freshly wiped tabled that still remain sticky after being rubbed clean. When the customers thin out, it gives time for you to rest your feet and sigh in relief once the rush is over. The line cooks in the back even manage to sneak in a burger or two for you to munch on in between taking customers’ orders. 

Every once in a while, you look back out into the dark.

The parking lot is empty except for a few cars of the cooks, Sandra’s beat-up chevy, and Martin’s Bug (who is still nursing a coffee this late into the day). The clock may be ticking more towards the early hours of the day, but your mind persists in waiting for that one specific car to pull quietly into the lot.

You hear your last name get called quietly from the kitchen. You turn to see Jim staring at you. “You’re off the clock,” he adds gruffly, not giving you enough to answer before swinging the door to the kitchen shut to get back to his own work.

A sigh escapes your lips, either in relief or disappointment—you didn’t know. The clock had been ticking for hours, but it’s as if nothing has changed besides your energy levels. You throw one last glance toward the window, the rain tapping faintly against the glass, as if it might somehow bring him in. But the door stays shut, the place still, except for the quiet hum of the freezer full of cake slices and the low radio speakers, playing a song you've heard too many times tonight.

You make your way to the back of the diner, unbuttoning your cotton uniform as you pass through the kitchen, listening to the cooks all conversing over the broken fan (you thank god that you are rarely obligated to be in the back during shifts).

The locker filled with your things swings open. You toss your shirt inside, because you just washed it and didn’t see a need to bring it back home. You put on your hoodie and bring the ends to the tip of your fingertips, shivering at the cold.

“Goodnight, boys,” you call out to the rest of the cooks, they give you their own waves in return, soft smiles adorning their lips before they go back to arguing over the possibilities of installing an AC in Jim’s office (they’ve been discussing this for months—you think they should just bite the paycheck and do it already). You peek out of the window of the kitchen door to see if anyone else had walked in while you were changing.

That’s when you see him.

Sitting on one of the barstools, jet black curls fanning the tops of his forehead closing in on his eyes. You used to be afraid of his smirk, unknowing of whether or not actual feelings laid under the surface of it. But now, you know for sure: under everything is a man who is looking at home.

“I can’t get a free coffee anymore, can I?” he says, gesturing to the hoodie and jeans that you adorn instead of the regular uniform.

You roll your eyes. “It’s too late for coffee,” you say softly, voice small and guarded. Instead of following his initial orders, you reach underneath the counter to pull out a chamomile tea bag, and a white mug. You feel eyes on you as you put a kettle of water on the stove, watching the water flow before it’ll begin to simmer. “I was worried you got held back,” you add. I was worried that I wouldn’t see you tonight. Your eyes flicker to him, but you quickly look away. I miss you. Our lives are too different, do you feel that sometimes? I get sad waiting.

You aren’t sure if Eddie can sense the tension the way you can. It’s hard to stomach that he was just out there, surrounded by people who adore him, living his life while you run around the diner taking orders, waiting for the day to end in hopes of seeing you. Maybe he was late because he didn’t want to show up tonight altogether. Those anxious thoughts are the things that swirl in your mind while you and Eddie coexist in the same universe, but completely different planets. For him to be here tonight feels like some cosmic rearrangement: planets moving out of orbit to ensure that you two are in the same place or not. You don’t know if that should be considered natural or not. 

As if sensing the energy from within you, he leans closer to the counter. “I would’ve come here if this place was completely locked up and you were the only one inside,” he jokes lightheartedly, but something stirs in your stomach at the truthfulness he holds in his tone. “Is that what goes on in that head of yours?”

The kettle whines, giving you an excuse not to answer. You shut off the stove and pour the steaming water into the mug, followed by the tea bag as you use a spoon to begin mixing the contents. You pull sugar from the side of the counter and count two teaspoons, exactly how you knew he liked it. “This’ll help you sleep tonight,” you say, putting it in front of him. “No more coffee past five.”

He smiles, eyes following yours in a desperate attempt to hold your gaze for as long as possible. He always does that; says he’s obsessed with your eyes. You recall the times once or twice where you stared deeply at yourself in the mirror to desperately see what he sees. Maybe his songwriting heart is writing prose upon prose as the seconds pass by, trying to capture a truth that cannot fully be put into words. You watch with a little smile as he takes the cup in between his lips. “Thank you, bug. C’mon,” he motions at the barstool beside him and you follow, leaving your way to the opposite of the counter and taking your spot beside him. He drinks quickly, taking your hand in between his as he takes big gulps as if trying to finish it all at once. “Let’s go, yeah?”

Keeping your hand in his, he stands up and begins walking to the exit, leaving you to trail behind faithfully. The bell above the door rings softly as you both step out of the diner. The cool night air bites at your skin and you find yourself edging closer to Eddie. He trades holding your hand to wrapping his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to catch some of his warmth. His footsteps are soft on the sidewalk, and your feet match him at a perfect pace, as if your minds moved in sync with each other. The planets are orbiting as they should.

He stops beside the passenger side car, hands in his pockets, and glances over at you. The neon from the diner’s sign glows faintly on his face, but his eyes are still all warm for you. He pulls the keys from his pocket and unlocks the car before opening the door for you.

“Ah–shit,” he mutters lowly, peering into his passenger seat. You peer in from behind him to see that his guitar is sat where he gestured you. You watch as he delicately takes the instrument, and lightly passes it off to the backseat. He wipes his hands dramatically, motioning at the now empty seat. “For you, bug.” You giggle. “Thanks.” 

Eddie’s car smells like a mix of vanilla and weed—a combined scent you’ve slowly come to associate with him and the comfort he carried. Who would’ve thought?

You see, dating Eddie is a peaceful predicament.

On one hand, you find it hard to believe that you have to share him with thousands of other people. His profession isn’t a topic of conversation you shy away from, but it isn’t every day you go into an in-depth conversation on how he spends most of his nights onstage, riffing on his guitar as his forehead catches a sweat from the velocity of his words spilling onto a microphone. You don’t talk about the crowd, the endless sea of people who show up to see him—just to watch, just to bask in the glow of his presence, while you get to experience it all for free.

Sometimes (if you were to ask Eddie, it’s more like all the time), you get anxious about how fast his life moves.Fast enough to match the rhythm of his mind, always racing ahead, always chasing the next thing. You, however, were all calculated and anxious, words only slipping after serious consideration.

But on the other hand, no one else holds your hand as they drive down the streetlight-filled roads to your apartment. No one else kisses each fingertip while you recount your draining day that is arguably less fast-paced than his, but he never interjects to say that. He never points out the insecurities she holds for being so different from him; mentally if not physically. Instead, he reassures you without a conversation needing to be had.

You lay your head against the passenger window and stare at his side profile, paying attention to the street though you know that his mind is elsewhere.

(You.) 

[shiny-jr]

damnation (peek V?)

Warning: Yes, this is a yandere thing. Gender-neutral reader.

Characters: Neige LeBlanche, Epel Felmier, Rook Hunt, Vil Schoenheit.

Summary: When you commit a crime, you receive a punishment. This is especially true in your society. No matter the crime, your punishment is the same: banishment. But to where you will be sent in exile and how miserable will it be? No one knows, because no one has ever returned.

Note: Should I be posting this right now? Probably not. Especially since Scarabia isn’t completed, but I haven’t posted anything in a while and I’ve been more motivated and inspired for Pomefiore lately. Maybe seeing comments and opinions on this might boost my energy and make me write more and complete both Scarabia and Pomefiore. Hopefully. Anyways, I wanted to post this anyways because technically it was part of the first sneak-peek before I edited it out so I could make its own and make it longer too. That, and after seeing fanart by a mutual, I wanted to write even more. I’m finally getting the chance now. So I’ll be writing right after I post this. Go check out the most recent fanart I got for this specific part of the project. Oh, and if you have no idea what this is, you might want to check the first sneak-peek post (the “I” below) and my previous posts under the #damnation twst au tag. One last thing. None of this is edited, I just copy and pasted from the draft I have so yeah, just in case y’all see mistakes it’s because I haven’t gone over it yet. I usually go over everything once it’s completed.

I . . . II . . . III . . . IV . . . V . . . VI . . . VII

THE BEAUTIFUL KING

A dark robe. Wrapped around your shoulders was a black cloak, like wings folded in. Speaking of feathered appendages, there was a single shiny feather tucked behind your ear. You had felt it tickling your earlobe, leading you to pluck it out of your hair to examine it. It was long and black, huge in size, making you imagine it came from a beast of a raven. Slowly you looked up, confused to find yourself at a desk surrounded by books, bottles of odd colorful liquids, and there was even a cauldron in the corner of the stone wall!

Returning your attention back to the feather, you were perplexed but quite liked it so you placed it back behind your ear where you had originally discovered it. Upon standing from the wooden chair, you noticed your change of outfit. A simple white ruffled shirt and black pants, although nearly every inch of you was covered by the black cloak on your back that reached all the way to your ankle and draped around you like a curtain. Lifting up the cloak, you could feel a short sword strapped safely and securely in a hilt on your back hidden away from sight. What was this place…? Why were you dressed like this? Why did you have a sword? What was going on? Was this your punishment?

Just then, your eyes drifted over to a book stand where a heavy leather tome sat open to prying eyes. Your prying eyes, to be exact. Curiously you stepped toward it, your fingers ghosting over the crisp pages of the aged book as you squinted incredulously at the words printed on the surface in a large font, occasionally dotted with red ink. “Poison apple…?” Beside it was the painted image of a ripe red apple, and in its shining reflective skin was the distinct shape of a skull. “One taste of the poisoned apple and the victim’s eyes will close forever in the sleeping death.”

But that… that was from a fairytale! The story of Snow White and the Beautiful Queen! This page about a poisoned apple, the tome, this basement filled with ingredients and suspicious concoctions… So it was true, criminals were often sent to dangerous tales where they would perish. And you... you were a criminal and you were here, but... what role did you play? Lifting your hand up to your ear, you suddenly felt the familiar soft sensation of the black feather accessory and realization dawned on you. Didn’t the queen have a pet raven…? Could that explain why you were here in these strange but fancy clothes? Of all things, why did you have to be the raven?

How did the story go again? The Queen was vain and wicked, she wished to be the most beautiful of all. It was said that she consulted her magic mirror every day and would inquire as to who the fairest of them all was. Should the mirror ever reply with another’s name instead of hers, she would find a way to kill her rival and would only be satisfied once the mirror answered her name. So when her step-daughter, Snow White, grows to become the fairest of them all, the Queen goes mad with jealousy and has a huntsman attempt to kill her. When that fails, the Queen takes matters into her own hands, eventually turning herself ugly as a disguise and even causing her own untimely demise by falling off a cliff and being crushed by a boulder, her remains left as feed for hungry vultures. That was the Queen, but what about the raven? Well, it’s never disclosed as to what happens to the bird, at least to your knowledge. The last the raven is seen, it was being tormented by the wicked Queen as she was creating the poisoned apple. Actually, maybe being the raven wasn’t so bad afterall… At least it didn’t perish or receive some other horrible ending.

Knowing this brought you much relief. At least you didn’t end up as the raven in that other story about a sleeping princess. That raven was turned to stone! You pity any poor sucker that might’ve ended up in that position. This outcome was adequate, for now. Perhaps it was best to venture outside, to attempt to find this beautiful queen. To be honest, it was a little exciting. You had always wondered how beautiful she was, since the novels always claimed they could never do her justice. But that's besides the point. Once meeting her, you then had to decide what your next move would be.

Keeping all that in mind, you climbed the spiraling stone staircases just barely lit by candles. You winced whenever you heard the squeak of a rat or spotted a rotting corpse of a forgotten prisoner still in chains. Quickening your pace until you reached a wooden door, and stepped into the sunlight. It was warm and delightful, the sun’s rays shining on your skin. You felt free. As of now, this was far from punishment. But knowing that you were sent here to be punished or even die, was what kept you from being completely at ease. You could almost just relax here in the calm and beauty of this garden–– key word, almost. Shrieking and many voices shattered your temporary peace, even scaring away the white doves that had flocked in the open courtyard.

Grumbling, you followed the sound of the commotion. It sounded like it was coming from over the high palace walls. There was one portion of the wall that was shorter than the rest, if you climbed onto the smooth edges of the railing by the stone steps, you could successfully scale onto the top of the wall where you decided to lounge about and spectate the action. On the other side of the wall, you could see a young man getting closer and closer, nervously waving at a large group giggling and following him. It was obvious that he was a little uncomfortable, and that he was trying to lose them without hurting their feelings by how he continued to smile even as he picked up the pace.

When his eyes landed on you, he appeared surprised, and as he walked the path he was getting closer and closer. Feeling pity for the lad, you sighed and stretched your arm down, to which he hesitated a moment before finally deciding to place his hand in yours. You heaved him up and slid down to the safe side of the wall, the palace side, just before his apparent fans could catch him. Their whining and complaining was amusing.

“Thank you…! You saved me!”

Oh, right, he was still here. You glanced over at the young man peering happily up at you with the brightest smile on his lips. Your eyebrows furrowed as you slowly began to notice his features. Hair black as ebony, skin white as snow, dressed head-to-toe in rags… No way––

“Ah, I know you!” He exclaimed, delighted as he took a step closer. “You’re my elder brother’s attendant! I’ve seen you around the palace countless times. You are always working so hard that I’ve never gotten a chance to properly meet you! Of course you must already know but my name is Neige, it’s truly so wonderful to finally talk like this with you!” He performed a small but polite bow. Such manners for a prince in rags. “I never knew you were so kind! Is there any way I can repay you?”

“Ah, no, there’s no need for that…” You studied his face, attempting to make sense of it all. If this Neige was Snow White, it did make total sense. His skin was flawless, it looked like a marshmallow, so pristine but soft. He was cherubic. His beauty was more of a one of innocence and cuteness, and it seemed the townsfolk noticed his looks judging by how they focused on his physical features instead of his attire. You force your gaze away. This was the prince who the Queen would try to kill. But there’s a chance it may be King in this version, because you’re fairly certain that Neige had just mentioned something about having an elder brother that you apparently worked for. “It was nothing.”

“Please, don’t be so modest! Your actions were selfless and heroic. Had it not been for you, I’m afraid I would’ve been stuck outside all day with no choice other than to interact with all those that followed me. And I couldn’t have that! I promised my brother that I would do my chores.” A sad frown appeared on his face as his gaze traveled back over to the wall, “Although I do regret having just left them without so much as a goodbye…”

So he was kind… Makes sense. Most princesses, or prince in this case, were kind-hearted souls that were far too naive or trusting and had the strangest ability to communicate with woodland creatures. However that last part worked, you weren’t entirely sure.

“The doves of the courtyard gathered by the well with me this morning! And we all made a wish! I, well… It's a bit embarrassing, but I wished for something truly special. And I believe that my wish may have come true!” A pretty pink blush made his cheeks rosy as he clasped his hands together, looking so truly content as he peered up at you.

“Is that so…?” Well, magical animal talking ability, check that off the list. He really was like the princess from the fairytale. But you didn’t like where this was going. You outgrew fairytales a long time ago, but when you read something so fantastical and magical in your innocent imaginative youth, it sticks with you. Perhaps that was a good thing, because even now you could recall the small details of the story.

In the beginning of the story, Snow White is cleaning the courtyard when she meets the doves at the well where she makes a wish to meet her true love. Not too long after, the prince appears on horseback, hearing the princess’ song that leads him to climb over the palace walls to get to her. When you got older, you quickly realized how creepy that actually was. The prince crept up on her like some sort of stalker, and essentially trespassed on private palace grounds. But that’s besides the point right now. The point is, Snow White made a wish to meet her true love which happened to be the prince. Well, right now, you have yet to see another so-called dashing prince or princess. There was just the courtyard and you were alone with Neige, and he was gazing up at you through his lashes and with a pretty smile that appeared too fondly. The Queen, or King, really needed to stop cooping up Prince Neige within the palace walls. It was dulling his sense towards social cues and common sense.

“Hey! What the hell are you doin’...?!”

Surprised at the sudden presence beside you, you looked to see another stranger. This one you couldn’t automatically connect to a role. It was a short young man with a cuteness that could possibly even rival the prince. He had such wide blue eyes and odd soft lavender curls that framed his face. Unlike you and Prince Neige, his outfit was of much finer detail which consisted of a white tunic and long dark blue sleeves from the shirt he wore underneath. A red cloak was draped over the shoulders of his small frame, the ends brushing against his simple pants and boots. But despite his fine clothing and adorable appearance, he spoke with such brashness, irked for whatever reason.

“Ah, you must be Epel! My brother speaks often about you! He says he sees great potential in you!” Neige interjected, oblivious to this Epel fellow’s irritation. Epel… the name didn’t ring a bell. You could accurately deduce what Neige’s role was based on his appearance and the fact that his name meant snow in French. But you still had no idea who Epel was supposed to be. Again, Neige bowed his head in polite greeting as he exclaimed, “Today must be my lucky day! Not only have I met you now, Epel, but I’ve also met–– Um…” He paused, turning to you and inquiring softly, “I’m sorry, I’m so excited that I’ve forgotten to ask your name.”

The lavender-haired boy quickly snatched your attention away from the prince, grabbing your cloak where your arm would be as he hissed in a whisper so as to not involve Neige. “Are you crazy? Talkin’ to the prince…! Vil is gonna fly off the handle!” Not-so-discreetly gesturing to the window right above them with his eyes darting to it and back to you, but not moving his head, so as to not alert the onlooker behind the glass.

You froze, not moving your head but your eyes moved up to where Epel had been glancing at. Out of the corner of your eyes, you could just barely make out a tall and thin figure in purple standing at the large window, holding the red curtains open with both hands. They were watching, and just as you moved your head the tiniest bit to get a better look, you only caught a glimpse of a deep angered frown before the curtains were abruptly shut, barring you from seeing anymore. That could’ve only been the beautiful royal, the monarch in charge that sees Prince Neige as a rival. When you looked back at Neige, he was still smiling at you with his hands folded in front of him, patiently awaiting an answer. Poor guy doesn’t know what’s coming.

“We gotta go, or Rook is gonna drag us back himself…!” Without even waiting for you to give Neige your name, Epel took your hand and ran like a bat out of hell. Making a beeline straight for an entrance to the palace, you attempted to keep up with him. He was surprisingly strong for someone so small.

Behind you, you heard, “W-Wait, I never got your name…!”

Well, that’s a crying shame. Focusing your attention on where you were heading, you began to lose track of all the twists and turns within these palace walls. Epel led you forward, he certainly knew where he was going. But you? You hadn’t a clue. That is, until after a few minutes, you arrived at a long hall where at the very end there were double doors already opened. The few soldiers standing guard paid no mind to you and the lavender-haired fellow, probably because in their eyes, you belonged here. And yet that couldn’t be further from the truth.

You felt so incredibly out of place as you stood on the lengthy blue carpet that stretched forward toward a small yet intricately designed throne of gold and jewels formed in the shape of a magnificent peacock with its feathered fanned out. But what was more entrancing than the priceless throne, was the person sitting atop it. Oh, how the novels did not lie, they truly could not do the monarch any justice in portraying their beauty. The King, who must’ve been Vil, could’ve been a world-famous model. His face looked like those perfect sculpted marble statues, it was the type of look that would incur the envious wrath of gods and goddesses in mythology. There was not a single blemish or flaw. Not even a single hair of his golden locks fading into lavender was out of place. The long purple robes under the longer black cloak flowing down his body, complimented the color of his amethyst eyes. Those eyes looked even more shiny than the golden crown perched atop his skull. You weren’t a simp but wow.

The King appeared less than pleased, it actually made you incredibly nervous when he bore a frown and silently beckoned you closer with a single curling movement of his index finger.

Walking past Epel who stood by the door, you took a deep breath as you recounted what knowledge you had on etiquette during this time period. Once you were a few feet in front of him, you began to kneel, when he spoke and caused you to freeze.

“Don’t.” Intense gaze glued to your form, he watched you carefully as he instructed, “Come closer.”

You slowly stepped forward, closer to him.

“Closer.”

Hesitating, you took another step so one foot was on the step in front of his throne.

“Closer.”

Pausing, you inched forward, now standing on the same elevation as the throne. Now you were just centimeters away from him, and it was putting you on edge. When he appeared seemingly satisfied, that’s when you finally kneeled in front of him. With a bowed head, a common sign of respect in customs with monarchies, you greeted simply, “Your Majesty.”

The King peered down at you, silent for a moment as you kept your head down and eyes glued to the ends of his purple robes and how his black cloak that matched yours, but his was much longer, pooled around his throne to look like a black void. After a few moments, you felt his hand at your chin, his slim fingers urging you to look up. When you did, he hummed, “Well, my lovely pet, have you had your fun with my little step-brother?” He gave a question, but it became obvious that he didn’t want an answer. At least not yet. This king must not be too fond of the prince. As his thumb stroked your chin and raised it so your head was almost at his knee, he continued slowly while gazing down at you, “You know that I loathe sharing, don’t you? So why would I share you with my step-brother, hm? Have you perhaps… begun to favor him over me?”

It struck you then that the royal must be an extremely envious person. Not only did they want to remain first in standing when it came to beauty, but he also wanted to monopolize people’s attention so that they may focus on him. Replying carefully, you spoke while keeping your eyes glued to his enchanting yet intimidating gaze, “Of course not, Your Majesty. It was merely a coincidence that I encountered him. I cannot be as easily swayed as the masses.” For a moment you hesitated, seeing that he seemed unconvinced as you proceeded, “... My loyalty to you cannot be broken by a prince in rags.”

After a few moments, the tension in the air evaporated as the king graced you with a smile that made your breath hitch. You had said the right thing. Tempted to glance at Epel for a possible clue on what to do next, you refrained and instead remained still as a statue when the king reached forward with his other hand to remove your hood. “Let me see your face, my retainer.” As soon as the hood was removed, he examined your face in the light. It took an incredible amount of calm to keep composed and not squirm in place under his intense scrutinizing gaze. Finally, he frowned and sighed, “I’ve been keeping you confined beneath the castle for far too long. You’re beginning to look ghastly, and I can’t be seen with someone beside me that’s less than appealing to look at.” Removing his hands from your face, he motioned for you to stand, which you did. “You’ve done enough. Getting rid of our guests and covering it up must’ve been challenging, especially for you to do it all on your own. This time, Rook will take over while you will be receiving enough sunlight to revitalize your complexion. Do not overdo it. Rook.”

Guests? Cover up? This wasn’t in the story. There wasn’t any time to fully process what you heard before you detected yet another voice just right beside your ear.

“Good day, petit corbeau!” You felt your soul leave your body for a single second when these words were said beside your ear by a voice, an extremely close and unfamiliar voice. When you jumped, startled, you noticed there was another young man literally only an inch behind you. When did he even get there? You didn’t even notice him until now! When you stepped to the side out of the way, you furrowed your eyebrows at his smile.

The young man was blonde, with hair styled into a ridiculous looking bob-cut but he somehow made it work as he wore a wide-brimmed brown hat with a black feather. Over his shoulders and back he wore a large hunter green cloth that wrapped around his shoulders like a scarf and extended over his back like a small cloak. Underneath, concealed by the cloth, was a dark tunic and black pants with a belt and knife at his hip. However, what unnerved you wasn’t the knife at his hip or the bow and quiver chock full of arrows on his back. It was his eyes.

His forest green eyes were glued to you, and he bore a wide and charming smile. “Ah, to see you without your hood and out of the undercroft, what a rare sight! Marvelous! I must thank you, Your Majesty, for making this possible! It is not everyday we see your dutiful, striking, mysterious little raven. It is truly a spectacle to behold! I will treasure this rare moment where I’ve not only heard you speak, but have seen your visage without being shrouded by shadows and concealed by your hood!”

You did not like this. The way he was looking at you as he spoke so dramatically made a shiver crawl up your spine. Yes, he spoke nothing but praise in such an honest tone and declaration, but there was something in his eyes. Something that placed you on edge as his smile turned slightly ominous and his eyes narrowed at you. There was a twinkle in his green eyes as he tilted his head at you inquisitively, as if sensing your unease without you even saying a word. This had to be the Rook fellow that Epel mentioned offhandedly, and now it made sense as to why he ran back so quickly just to avoid encountering him.

Much to your relief, Vil sighed and interjected without even standing from his throne. Furrowing his eyebrows, he scolded in an irked tone, “I didn’t summon you to pester my little retainer, Rook. Stress from you is not what my retainer needs right now. It causes wrinkles.”

���Apologies, Your Majesty.” Rook chuckled, obediently turning to fully face the royal as you stood stiffly beside him, keeping a safe distance between you two.

Behind you, out of the corner of your eye, you could see Epel quietly closing the doors once Vil gestured for him to do so. It seemed the king wanted privacy, he wished to say something not even the guards outside the thick wooden doors were allowed to hear. The only ones that would be witnesses to his words were you, Epel, and Rook. You had to wonder what was so secretive that he didn’t even want his soldiers stationed outside to hear, and why were you allowed to hear? Was it because you were supposedly in the role of his trusted retainer? Maybe it had something to do with that cover-up he mentioned just a short time ago.

The tension in the room was thick, it disturbed you and you can tell it bothered the short purple-haired young man too if his growing perturbed frown was anything to go by. Despite this, he took up the space beside you. The blonde with the bow, Rook, who you now were assuming to be a huntsman if his attire and weapons were any giveaway, continued to smile without much of a care. Rook was on the left, Epel was on the right, and you were in the center, and still on his throne was King Vil. With luck, you’ll be able to keep up this act. It wouldn’t do for a retainer to fail. It might cost you and be the slip-up that would put an end to this charade of survival.

“I’ve decided. Rook, the duties I normally give to my retainer will be passed onto you today. You’re much more suited for this job. It involves my little step-brother, Neige.” The way he said the prince’s name made it sound like it pained him just to utter it, like it burned his tongue just to mention him. But he continued. “It seems he’s been working hard at completing his chores, hm? He’s been begging for a day out, and he adores flowers so… Rook, you will take him far into the woods, a secluded meadow where he can pick as many wildflowers as his little heart desires.”

Once you processed his words, you froze. It dawned on you that it was happening, this was the moment in the story when the beautiful queen commanded her huntsman to murder the princess in the woods. Vil must’ve already consulted the magic mirror and was told that he was no longer the fairest in all the land. That title now officially belonged to Neige, but it wouldn’t for long if the king had anything to say about it.

The other two loyal and trusted by the king had no idea, as Epel appeared vaguely bored and disinterested while Rook seemed elated. “Of course! I’ll see to it that it is done, Your Majesty––!”

“I’m not finished.” Vil interrupted, frowning tersely as his gaze turned cold. Tapping his well-manicured nails against the armrest of his throne, his eyes narrowed and he leaned an inch forward while instructing, “There, you will kill him.”

The shock was immediately evident on the face of the two beside you. Epel, who had been quiet throughout this entire exchange, finally broke his silence with a small gasp as he moved to cover his mouth with one hand. But it was too late, everyone had already heard him and seen his stunned expression. And yet, no one seemed to really care. Everyone was far too engrossed in what was just said by the king.

Rook appeared just as confounded before disbelief took root, as if he didn’t even wish to believe his own two ears. Removing his hat, he held it to his chest and lowered his head respectfully as he placed a hesitant foot forward. “Your Majesty, our beautiful and lovely Vil, you can’t possibly mean–– our prince Neige…!”

“Silence!” Immediately standing from his seat, he scowled, the prince’s name only making his rage more bitter. And then, he said something unexpected, something off script and never in the story. Gesturing to you, he hissed, “My loyal retainer here could make six souls vanish without a trace, why can’t you do it with one mere prince? Must they do everything? Must I have to dirty my own hands? Hm?”

Lowering his head further, the huntsman replied quietly, somberly, his smile now gone. “Of course not, Your Majesty. Your delicate hands aren’t meant to be soiled…” It’s as you suspected. Rook stayed alive and was one of Vil’s closest servants because he was witty enough to think of something on the spot that was complimentary enough to appease the bitter royal. At least, that’s what it seemed like at the moment. For now, you were grateful you weren’t him. Some people who read the story of Snow White liked to theorize that the huntsman was murdered by the vicious queen for failing to assassinate the princess.

Vil was quiet, not completely calm judging by his sneer but he was composed enough not to say anything more. Standing tall, his gaze honed in on you and Epel, to which he spoke, “My loyal, diligent retainer, escort my successor out. I need to have a word with Rook, privately.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

[lizardboiii]

ANGER MANAGEMENT┃R. Sukuna

[Possessive!Sukuna x Fem!Reader]

・❥・

│Summary: Anger management was by no means your strong suit. No amount of lessons or prayers could change that. In fact, it feels like you’ve been doing a lot worse lately with the appearance of a new neighbor in your next door apartment.

“You're an insufferable bastard and I hope you move.”

“Eat shit and die.”

“Fuck you.”

・❥・

│cw: 18+, Slight NSFW, vulgar language, younger sibling behavior

│w/c: 4.5k

│chapters: (i) (ii) (iii) (iv) (v) (vi) (vii)

│notes: Quality sibling time is enhanced with spaghetti propaganda. NeighborsAU!, AncestorsAU!

・❥・

│Chapter II : INFURIATED

Hiding from your problems was one thing, but hiding from someone who lived directly next door was another. After your little ‘session’, guilt struck you like a truck. There was no way you could look Sukuna in the eyes in your current state.

So, here you were today sitting at home like always but with one thing different. Obnoxiously loud rock music barreled through your apartment like a hurricane. Your walls shook vigorously with every base drop.

Now normally you’d give your sweetheart neighbor a pleasant surprise visit, but not today. You had gone two days in a row without seeing his face, and you definitely needed another week to even hear his voice.

Cringing, you thought back to how you've been practically sneaking out of your own apartment when leaving for work. It was routine at this point, poke your head out, look both directions, and make a b-line for the elevator. You were surprised with how well it was actually working out.

Sighing in defeat you swaddled yourself with a blanket on your couch in some hope of drowning out the music. You groaned when you noticed the music somehow getting louder.

That’s it. Whipping up to your feet, you haphazardly threw your blanket to the ground and stormed over to your door. Practically tearing the door off its hinges, you entered the hall virtually frothing at the mouth.

Your anger carried you over to Sukuna’s door with a quickly extinguishing confidence. You stood before the white door and bit your lip. You’d be able to look at him, right? You didn’t even really do anything bad, right? 

Letting out a deep sigh you facepalmed. You were by no means a coward, but right now you felt like one. Raising your fist to knock, you held it still in another moment of hesitation. Should you just suck it up and go home?

However, fate had chosen for you as the door suddenly swung open up to a taken aback Sukuna. His eyebrows rose at your smaller figure, hand still lingering in the air.

You were quick to put your hand down, “Could you turn down the music?”

Sukuna leered at you, “No yelling this time?”

Flashes from two days ago entered your brain. Sukuna’s rough voice, deep and dangerously addictive.

Shamefully, you bore your eyes into the floor and mumbled, “Just turn the damn music down.”

You heard Sukuna shift above you, a thoughtful hum passing through his lips, “I can’t hear you.”

You shoved your heels into the ground, “Turn down the music, please.”

Sukuna whistled, “And a 'please' too? What’s gotten into you, piggy?”

You felt like you could tear your hair out. Looking back up at him through your lashes you scowled at him. His red eyes scanned your face with such amusement you wanted to punch him again.

“Turn down the fucking music, scum.”

Sukuna smiled wildly. You noted how his pearly white teeth held a slight sharpness to them. Like a predator.

“No.”

You snarled at his pleased expression. What the hell did you even expect? In the spur of the moment an idea shot through your head as you glanced behind him. His dreaded speaker sat passively on his kitchen counter, music still flowing out of it in waves.

“Move.”

Sukuna raised his brow before you shoved his body aside and stormed in. You’d never been in his place before, only catching glimpses whenever you fought.

The room smelled faintly of a sharp woodsy scent, something you recognized but weren’t sure from where. Scanning the entrance you noticed his place was the same layout as your own apartment only flipped.

It was surprisingly neat too. The entire place was organized without a single dish in the sink. You cringed when you thought back to the state of your own apartment. He put you to shame. 

A large hand hastily grabbed the back of your collar and pulled, choking you in the process, “Where the hell do you think you're going?”

You grabbed Sukuna’s hand and tried to pry it off, “If your so incapable of turning down your own music your poor considerate neighbor will help.”

Sukuna pulled your form closer to his chest, “I don’t think so, rat.”

You struggled against his grasp causing his other arm to wrap tightly around your waist. You cursed under breath at the secure hold.

Sukuna leaned down into your ear and chuckled, “Listen if you wanted in so bad you could’ve just asked.”

You swallowed hard at your predicament. Pressed up against him, you could feel the outline of his toned chest engulfing your back. His arms felt impossibly muscular, trapping you tightly with them. 

Slowly, the hand that fit snugly against your waist made its way higher, directly pushing underneath your breasts. 

Your heart was beating so fast you could hear the thumping in your ears, “Get off.”

Sukuna’s other hand moved from the collar of your shirt to roughly grab your chin. Harshly pulling your face up, he grinned at your panicked expression, “What if I don’t want to?”

Your face burned at his proximity. Too close. Trying to pull your face away, you winced when Sukuna’s calloused hands squeezed your face harder. The crescent of his nails dug into your skin creating small droplets of blood.

Trying to ignore the ache in your cheeks, you glared into his sharpened eyes. You could swear their eerie red shone brighter. Swallowing, you watched him glance from your eyes to your lips then back to your eyes again.

You internally scolded yourself as you found your eyes doing the same. However, you lingered on his lips for far longer. They looked soft. The curve of his cupid's bow looked as if they might even fit perfectly with yours. 

Mindlessly, you felt yourself lean forward into him, eyes still locked on his lips. How would he taste? Minty? Or perhaps sweeter?

You bit your lip and forced yourself to draw back, this was not the time to be seduced by your neighbor. A dark chuckle made you return your eyes back up to deep red ones.

“Scared of a little kiss?” Sukuna pulled you forwards, lips just grazing your own, “Or just scared you’ll like it.”

Your body shivered as you closed your eyes, “Fuck off.”

SLAM

“BROTHERRRRRR!!”

You flinched so hard at the new voice you thought your soul left your body. Tearing your face away from Sukuna’s grip, you tried to shove him off you. Sukuna’s grip reluctantly gave way as he turned his attention to the new intruder.

“Yuuji,” you swallowed hard at the venom that laced Sukuna’s voice, “Why are you here so early?”

Yuuji merely scratched the back of his neck laughing off his brother’s bitterness, “I figured since I was late last time I’d come a bit early today!”

Sukuna rubbed his face with a deep sigh, “Of course you did.”

You sucked in your cheeks at an oblivious Yuuji. You had to thank the kid though. He just saved your sorry ass from becoming a certain playboy’s next victim of the night.

Pouting at his brother, Yuuji’s eyes eventually found you, “Hey (y/n)! How’s it going?”

You shrugged, “Better now.”

Glancing over, you side eyed an irritated Sukuna. He glared down at you with disdain as you threw him a fake sympathetic look.

“Are you here for dinner too?” Yuuji smiled brightly as he pulled two full grocery bags from behind his back.

“No-” “Yep!”

You quickly cut off Sukuna with a malicious grin. Hey, if you had to suffer through his music he could afford you a meal. 

A large hand started shoving your back towards the door, “No. She was just leaving.”

You dug your feet into the ground, pushing against him, “Hey!”

“What!? No way! You have to stay!” Yuuji jumped in front of your path waving his arms frantically, “We have more than enough to spare anyway!”

Sukuna’s hands moved to grip your shoulders tightly, “I’m feeling pretty hungry.”

“Pleaseeeeeee,” Yuuji held his hands out in prayer.

You flinched as Sukuna’s grip strengthened, “Fine. She can stay for just dinner.”

Yuuji shot his hands up in the air in victory, “Yes! Let’s get cooking!”

You smiled at his cheery form. He was just as bright as the first time you ran into him.

・❥・

A soft knock rang out through your apartment as you sat on your couch painting your nails. Sighing heavily you set your polish down and shook your hand to dry it. Blowing on your freshly drying nails you opened the door to see…a familiar figure???

Your eyes widened at the sight of a tinier Sukuna. Though, this one had light brown eyes that looked as if they were melted gold. His hair was messier too, with black roots below his matching pink hair which contrasted with Sukuna’s pure pink look.

In some sick coincidence his face sported two tiny birthmarks under his eyes that matched the two tattoos under Sukuna’s eyes. There was no doubt he was another spawn from wherever the hell Sukuna crawled out of.

You stared at his form in a stupor, “Uh, hello?”

The boy’s eyes widened in confusion as he frantically looked at you then down to a scrap of paper in his hand, “Uhhhh, sorry I think I have the wrong apartment!”

You laughed at his troubled expression, “I take it you're related to another certain pink haired gentleman?”

You gagged in your mind. Gentleman your ass.

The boy ruffled his hair and laughed tiredly, “Right on the mark.”

You pointed to the door next to yours, “One over.”

He followed your finger and smiled brightly, “Ah, thank you so much…”

You lifted your hand, “(y/n) (l/n).”

“Itadori Yuuji! I’m here visiting my brother,” He firmly grasped your hand and shook it.

You felt taken aback by the strange interaction. It felt like you were in some alternate dimension with a normal well behaved Sukuna. 

“Well Yuuji, I must say you are far more pleasant than that brother of yours, that’s for sure.” 

Yuuji laughed, “I get that a lot.”

You matched his smile with your own, “It was nice meeting you, Yuuji. I hope to see you around some time, it’s nice to have a civil conversation for once.”

Why couldn’t this one have moved in next door?

“Same here, see you around (y/n)!” Yuuji threw you a salute before spinning on his heel.

You watched as he trudged over to the correct apartment and knocked. Poor kid, having to deal with that asshole for a brother. Not bothering to have another altercation with Sukuna, you quickly retreated into your apartment and returned to your nails. Grumbling when you noticed you managed to smear one.

・❥・

You smiled fondly at the memory as you watched Yuuji cook from the kitchen’s island counter. To your astonishment you managed to run into him far more than you thought you would after your first encounter. He surprisingly visited Sukuna several times a week. 

Soon enough, you managed to find out he went to the local university as a student. He lived in the freshman dorms but stayed with Sukuna whenever he wanted some alone time. You grimised at the thought of Sukuna being a safe haven. As if.

Speaking of the devil, Sukuna stood next to Yuuji cutting up tomatoes for the spaghetti sauce. As much as you liked watching him slave away for you, you figured you might as well help out as a courtesy for Yuuji.

You called out from the counter, “Are you sure you don’t need any help?”

Yuuji hummed, “You're our guest, no need to worry!”

Sukuna scoffed next to him, “It’s better if she doesn’t get her hands on the food anyway. Who knows what she’d put in it.”

You frowned, “I’ll have you know I’m a fantastic cook!”

Sukuna turned to you with a sly grin, “Is that why I constantly hear your fire alarm going off?”

Clenching your fist on the table you snarled, “Some foods are better burnt!”

His eyebrows turned inward, “Like what?”

You chewed on your lip looking for an answer before you abruptly stood up and walked over to him. Snagging up a knife, you held your hand out for a tomato.

“I’ll show you how good I am.”

Sukuna held your gaze tauntingly before he dropped a small tomato in your hand, “Then show me.”

You huffed and set the tomato down on the cutting board. Slicing, you went slow trying to make all the cuts even. You scowled as your plan failed, only making your cuts even more uneven. 

Turning to Sukuna, you looked to see how he was faring. There was no way he was doing that much better than you. 

Your eye twitched in disbelief as you watched him cut through tomatoes at the speed of light, each slice perfect. 

Sukuna side eyed you, “Need some help?”

You growled and slammed your knife into the tomato harder, “No.”

You halted your movements when you heard an annoyed sigh and the drop of a knife. Casually, Sukuna placed himself behind you and wrapped his arms around either side of you. His left hand immediately grabbed your own and helped you hold the tomato steady while his right assisted your cutting.

“No need to take it so slow,” Sukuna lifted your hand and brought it down firmly, “A good rhythm is all you need.”

You grumbled and followed his movements, the feeling of his body becoming a lot more apparent.

Sukuna leaned into your ear, “Just like that.”

You flushed as he sped up his pace, slicing the tomato faster. Your senses felt on overdrive as you drowned in his cologne, something you ignored earlier in favor of staring at his lips. You held the knife harder trying to ignore the growing heat in your stomach.

“You're doing so good for me.”

The knife sliced through the final chunk with blaringly loud ringing. You felt like you were on fire. 

“Good girl.”

Keeping your gaze on the chopped tomato, you prayed Yuuji was too preoccupied to look to his left. But just as quickly as your tomato was cut, Sukuna’s warmth was gone.

Wordlessly, you glanced to your left at a humming Yuuji. You flinched in surprise when you noticed him glance over as well. He threw you a cheeky grin and raised his eyebrows, eyes darting between you and Sukuna. 

Your jaw twitched as you playfully punched him, “Quite, brat. I just needed help with cutting.”

Yuuji smiled smugly, “Sureeeee~”

Another punch to his arm sent him into a laughing fit. Little brat. You were starting to see the Sukuna in him right now.

・❥・

Laying on your stomach on the living room floor, your mouth was watering at the smell exiting the kitchen. You sighed pitifully as your stomach groaned. How much longer?

The blessing ding of a timer made your head snap up in the direction of the oven. An equally carnivorous Yuuji rocketed through the kitchen and grabbed a testing spoon. You watched fervently as he tasted the sauce.

With a hungry grin Yuuji turned to you, “It is complete.”

You jumped to your feet and made a mad dash to the kitchen, “Finally!”

Like starved animals you both hastily grabbed plates and began dumping pounds of freshly made spaghetti on them. Yuuji snagged a pitcher of water before he claimed a seat at the table as you followed in suit.

Excitedly, Yuuji lifted his filled fork up to his mouth only for a hand to grab his head. Sukuna frowned at him, “You didn’t save any for me, brat.”

Hearing his words you looked at Yuuji and then the empty pot. Sheepishly scratching the back of your head, you grabbed a spare plate and began dumping your extra servings onto it. Hesitantly, Yuuji coughed up some of his own before placing the plate down in front of Sukuna’s seat.

Sukuna merely sighed at your childishness and pulled out his chair to sit down in front of you. You were thankful you weren’t sitting next to him but you weren’t sure if sitting across from him was any better.

Twirling your fork in your noodles, you watched the brothers playfully interact. Yuuji shook his fork in defense at Sukuna who was attempting to steal more food. The two argued like a married couple.

You smiled softly at the sight before a soft pang hit your heart. You thought back to your own family. The home cooked meals, careless banter, attentive family members. But that was long gone. You had run from them like you always ran from everything.

Your mistakes had done enough damage for a lifetime, you couldn’t afford to be in the presence of their sympathetic eyes. 

“(y/n)?”

You glanced over to a concerned Yuuji. Well, concerned from what you could tell. Sukuna’s hand took over most of his face as he was shoved away.

You let out a puff of air at the sight, “Hm?”

“PROTECT MY LAST MEATBALL!”

Your eyes widened as Yuuji flung a stray meatball from his fork at you.

“WHAT THE HELL?!” 

You scrambled to catch the loose meat before it hit the floor, recoiling at the wet feeling of the sauce. The sudden screech of a chair indicated a pissed Sukuna bolting from his seat. 

“Put that down!”

You panicked as Sukuna stormed over to you. A quick flash of Yuuji throwing his hands over his head asking you to pass made you sigh.

Sukuna picked up his pace, “DON’T YOU DARE!”

In defiance, you chucked the meatball at Yuuji as Sukuna reached you. The sphere flew through the air before Yuuji caught it in his hand. Sukuna snarled as he lunged at Yuuji.

Laughing hysterically, Yuuji threw the meatball back at you as Sukuna wrestled him to the ground. Catching the meatball, you gaped at the pair of brothers fighting.

Yuuji flung his body around wildly trying to escape Sukuna’s relentless hold. A swift kick to Sukuna’s face made you snort.

Yuuji screamed when Sukuna regained the upper hand causing you to grab the counter trying to catch your breath. You shook uncontrollably as your laughter slowly became unstoppable.

“KAHH, (Y/N) HELP ME!!!!”

Yuuji struggled on the ground as Sukuna pinned his arms behind his back. You sucked air through your teeth at the sight, “You're on your own for this one, pal.”

Yuuji cried out as Sukuna slammed his body down one last time before he lashed at you, “Throw that shit away right now.”

You smirked at his aggravated expression before dropping the meatball to the ground, “Opps.”

The precious meatball landed on the tiled kitchen floor with a sickening plop. All at once Yuuji cried out in loss as Sukuna yelled in frustration. Letting go of his brother, Sukuna sprinted at your form.

You laughed harder and ran behind the island counter. Sukuna slammed his hands on the marbled surface as he glared at you from across, “Clean that shit up, right now.”

You flipped him off, “Kiss my ass.”

You yelped in surprise when Sukuna abruptly hurled himself over the counter and grabbed you. Pulling you over the island, he picked you up by your hips and threw you unceremoniously over his shoulder. 

You lifted yourself up on his shoulders and pounded on his back, “Put me down, asshole!”

Sukuna rolled his eyes, “Fine.”

You cried out when he ruthlessly threw you down on the couch. Your body bounced up and down from the force as you scowled up at an annoyed Sukuna. Beside you, Yuuji lay drained on the floor as he cracked up laughing at Sukuna's pissed face. 

Crossing his arms, Sukuna frowned at you both, “You’ll both be cleaning my kitchen if you ever plan to leave this place alive.”

You glanced at Yuuji who gave you a look before he mocked Sukuna, “Who died and made you king?”

The stomach-turning cracking of Sukuna’s knuckles shut Yuuji up immediately, “I mean, yes sir!”

You smiled, “I suppose I could help as well.”

Getting up from your spot, you and Yuuji quickly got to work cleaning the mess. Yuuji washed the dirty dishes while you sat on the floor scrubbing the sauce the meatball left off.

Wiping up the soapy water from the floor, your brows creased as legs came into your view. Glancing up you frowned at a smirking Sukuna.

“That’s a good look for you.”

You sat up from your crouched position and rubbed your back, “What do you mean?”

“On your knees in front of me.”

You choked on your spit, “What-”

Smooth laughter mocked you as you quickly stood to your feet. You crossed you arms and glared at him, “Your fucking disgusting.”

Sukuna leaned his back against the counter, “Damn, and I was getting used to the view.”

You threw your dirtried rag at his face. A swift hand easily caught it and threw it back. Agitated, you tossed it on the counter, “You're insufferable.”

Sukuna laughed, “You're an easy target.”

Before you could wring his throat, a cheery Yuuji let out a loud exaggerated sigh, “I can’t believe the night is almost over.”

Thank god. You were starting to realize how much you hated Sukuna again.

“Wait!” You flinched at Yuuji’s mood switch, “Let’s watch a movie!”

“Absolutely not.”

Yuuji pouted at his brother's words, “Come on! I never get to hang with (y/n)! I bet you get to all the time!”

You internally cringed. Like you’d ever willingly hang out with Sukuna alone. 

Yuuji huffed as he realized his begging was getting nowhere with Sukuna. Finding another solution Yuuji turned his attention to you.

Throwing you puppy eyes Yuuji stuck out his lower lip, “Pleaseee!”

“No-” “Alright.”

Cutting off Sukuna, you resigned yourself to Yuuji’s pouting. What can you say, you were a sucker for the golden retriever ones. At least your presence would annoy Sukuna.

Yuuji smiled, “Alright!”

You sighed, “What movie?”

Yuuji scratched his chin, “Anything with Jennifer Lawrence.”

You deadpanned at his response. Of course.

Once you finished cleaning you were quickly moved by Yuuji into the open living room. Claiming a seat on the end of Sukuna’s couch, you curled up in a ball and watched Yuuji scroll through Netflix. 

He currently sat on the floor with his back propped up against the edge of the couch. A pillow tucked comfortably behind his back. Sukuna, on the other hand, sat on the opposite end of the couch, his legs taking up the rest of the L shape.

“Just pick a damn movie already.”

Yuuji huffed, “Then you pick!”

Sukuna rested his head on his fist, “No.”

Yuuji exclaimed a loud sigh before settling on a random movie, “If this sucks, that's on you.”

Sukuna moved his foot to kick Yuuji in the back of the head, making him yelp and rub his scalp. You shook your head at their antics and tried to focus on the start of the movie. 

You blinked when a certain female character came on screen. Jennifer Lawrence. You looked at Yuuji who was staring at the screen intensely. Shoving your fist into your mouth, you tried to contain your laughter. At least he’ll be happy even if the movie blows.

・❥・

Sweltering. 

You were so hot you felt like you were dying. 

Attempting to turn to your side you froze when you realized you couldn’t. Peaking your eyes open, your mouth dropped when you came face to chest with a larger body. 

It didn’t take you long to realize you were cuddled up with Sukuna on the longer portion of the couch. 

His right arm curled suggestively around your waist and rested on your hip bone. While your own arm clung possessively over his chest. 

You gawked at the situation. Internally freaking out, you tried to free yourself as quickly and as quietly as possible. You must’ve fallen asleep during the movie, but how you got in this position was beyond you.

Gently slipping out of Sukuna’s loose grip, you carefully sat up. You blinked again in confusion when a newly appeared blanket slipped off you and cascaded down onto Sukuna’s chest. That wasn’t there either last night.

You rubbed the bridge of your nose and checked the time on your phone, 3:04am. Shit it was late. You’ve definitely overstayed your welcome.

Moving to stand up, you jolted when a large hand captured your wrist and pulled you back. Its frigid temperature cooled the aching heat of your skin. 

Quickly, you snapped your head over to what you thought was a sleeping Sukuna in shock. His head laid lazily on top of his folded arm as his tired eyes took in your shape.

“Where are you going?”

You shivered at the raspiness that took hold of his voice, “Home.”

A shift from below you made you tear your gaze away from him. Looking at the floor, you eyed a sprawled out Yuuji who was snoring loudly in the center of the living room.

“Why?” Sukuna’s thumb slowly traced circles in your wrist, almost enticing you to stay.

You went to answer before strong arms captured your waist, “Just stay. It’s already late.”

You clutched the previously discarded blanket as Sukuna’s hands rubbed up and down your sides, feeling every curve you had to offer.

Slowly, a hand crept underneath your shirt caressing your bare skin. Its icy touch shot sparks through your entire body. 

“I can’t.”

You shuddered when your shirt lifted slightly as soft lips kissed your lower back. Their fullness sensually traced the dip of your spine before lifting away.

“Stay,” A rough thumb swiped tantalizingly slow underneath your waistband, ghosting over your v-line.

All you could manage was a silent nod as Sukuna’s arms pulled you back into him. His straying hands returned back to your stomach and clutched your body close. You closed your eyes and allowed him to bury himself in the crook of your neck.

His faint breath tickled your neck slightly before his lips started to trail the curve of your shoulder. You gasped lightly when he stopped near the crevasse of your neck and bit hard. He sucked and nipped at the spot making you tremble before he licked it clean.

Pushing his face further into your newly formed bruise you heard his breathing even out, signaling him falling asleep. Once soft snores entered your ear you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

Allowing yourself to melt in his grasp you sighed, were you still dreaming? When you wake up will that mark still be there or was this just another one of your perverse hallucinations?

You squeezed your eyes shut. A small part of you prayed it wasn’t the last. That it was real. But you’d never admit that. 

Tonight you’d allow yourself to be wrapped up in intoxicating arms. The hatred that filled them turned still until the morning. Once you woke up you’d go back to how things were. The buffer of Yuuji no longer containing the festering anger that crawled beneath your skin. 

You’d go back to despising Sukuna.

｡･:*˚:✧⤷

・❥・

[yourstrqly]

. ⋆⠀ THOUGHT OF YOU

alex albon x gf!reader

you've never entertained the thought of having a child together but now it might be the right time.

warnings: pregnancy scare, alex being the cutest human to ever grace this planet !!

"birdy", alex exclaimed, voice filled with concern and a whiff of confusion as he walked through your shared home, searching you.

"kitchen, babe", you replied tiredly. the day had been exhausting, having to stay longer at work than expected, getting wet from the british rain and on top of that missing the last bus, resulting in you walking about forty minutes home. there was nothing you wished more than eating the pho you made for alex and yourself, and ending the evening in bed, cuddling until you sunk in the land of dreams.

you heard him approache, feet dragging over the wooden floor til he stopped causing you to turn around; he swallowed loudly while his warm brown eyes borred into yours.

your heart rate risen by the second, pounding wildly against your ribcage, adding pressure to your chest and making you breath stuck in your throat. "what happened, al?", you chocked out.

he didn't answer, however he raised his hand up, opening his fist and revealed the object he had found, all while he watched your face morph from slightly happy to see him to panic. eyes focused on the white stick you had used this morning, tears began to shine, trying to escape their ocean.

"you weren't suppose to see that", you shared quietly with your boyfriend. inside your mind, your screamed at your own stupidity — why couldn't you have hidden it better or throw it away? Alex on the other hand, looked down at the pregnancy test, still in disbelief.

clearing his throat, the half thai dragged his vision back to you. "you shouldn't have done this alone, birdy, you know i'm always a call away."

shame fired up your body; it was true, he always had your back as you had his, but this morning you felt like you were on your own, telling yourself that you couldn't possibly ruin his career by taking his focus to a baby and away from driving.

"i know, al . . . i was scared, you know?", you mumbled, "my period is late so there was a change i could've been with child."

"was?", he whispered as he stepped behind you, leaning your body into his, faced pressed to your neck where he placed a soft kiss.

gently you grabbed the test, turned it around so you both could see the small window with the line. "it's negative", you cleared the air, "one line means not pregnant."

a hum escaped his body. "we should buy another one or two, to make sure, yeah?"

he sounded confident, free of panic, the complete opposite of what you were feeling inside. you simply nodded, surprised as he let go of you to grab his car keys. "see you in a minute, birdy."

"al, i have another one in the bathroom", you told him, stopping him from walking through the kitchen door.

"then what are you waiting for? take it, and let me in when you ped on it."

you did as he said, cuddling him on the floor opposite the sink where the test laid on while the pair of you waited for the result. alex stroked your head softly, tracing your features, lost in your beauty — sure, you eyes were a bit red, your lips were swollen because you nervously bit on them but you were still the most beautiful being he had ever laid his eyes on.

"guess now it's the right time to talk about kids", he said.

"can't believe we've never talked about", you shrugged, a small giggle leaving your mouth causing your boyfriend to laugh too.

"do you want kids?", the williams driver wanted to know, setting his eyes onto yours.

a small beam formed on your face. "i do, i just don't know of its the right time now." you truly didn't know it; you just had started your job, and alex was busy travelling around the world for formula one.

he breathed out, an excited grin spread on his lips. "there's nothing more i'd rather want than having a family with you."

his words broke your heart, it beat fastly once again and turned it into a puddle — blush creeped up your neck and you couldn't stop yourself to press a kiss onto his lips, silently telling him that you felt the same.

ending the kiss, a question burned at the top of your tongue. "what if i'm actually pregnant?" you didn't break out in a nervous sweat, no, you waited for his answer while his hand roamed down your body to your stomach.

"then our family starts now."

interlocking your hands, you waited for his phone to buzz; the silence was comfortable til it broke, alerting of the result. hope and love filled your bodies. alex stood up first, holding his hand out to you to help you up. then he gestured you to get the first glimpse at the test. your shoulders sunk when you read the words not pregnant; you turned to your boyfriend who opened his arms, giving you solace. he didn't need to see the result, he knew and like you, he experienced his first heartbreak in this relationship.

alex cradled you face, peaking your lips and drying your tears away. "i'm upset too, didn't expect to want a baby but birdy this doesn't stop your dream, alright?"

you voice trembled. "al, could . . . could we start our family?"

his lips widened into a big grin, before lifting you up causing you to laugh out loud, kicking the door of the bathroom shut. "what are you doing, al?", you couldn't stop laughing like an exciting child.

"well, we have practice, don't we?"

"i'm not going to be pregnant this month."

"I know birdy, but that isn't going to stop me", he cheekily replied, throwing you on the bed, "practice is the key."

[kazumist]

WHITE TULIPS .ᐟ

✩ — gepard doesn't know how to make it up to you so he goes to serval for some advice.

✩ — includes: gepard x gn!reader. fluff. no cws. wc: 977. he's so silly and he doesnt know how love works at all isnt he the absolute cutest? reblogs are very much appreciated !!

“how do you… make it up to someone?”

“what?”

an awkward silence took over serval’s workshop after that. it wasn’t rare for her brother to suddenly visit, and it certainly wasn’t rare for her brother to ask for relationship advice either.

“what have you done this time?” serval asks his brother, arms crossed, as she looks at him disapprovingly. gepard looks away from her sheepishly in return. serval couldn’t help but sigh. “let me change the question to: what do you need help with this time?” she asks again.

it was gepard’s turn to sigh this time. “i had forgotten that we were supposed to go out yesterday and i wasn’t able to come on time. there was a sudden order that was issued to me and…” he sighs again. “you probably know how it ends.”

serval looks at him more disapprovingly and gepard just wants to shrink at her gaze.

“well, obviously you need to take a day off so you can make it up to them,” she says, a hand on her hip. serval isn’t surprised that gepard would come to her for this. after all, romance was unfortunately not her little brother’s forte, despite the fact that he inherited great looks from the landau bloodline. as gepard was about to speak, she cut him off. “nope, not hearing it! you need a break from your line of work too, geppie.”

“... i was about to ask what we should do on that day off.”

oh.

“oh! sorry, my bad.” serval laughs it off awkwardly and gepard just shakes his head at her. “well… let’s start with the basics. have you tried giving them flowers?” he shakes his head no. “then perfect! this is your chance. try getting some white tulips before you approach them on your day off. i heard white tulips are counted as an apology flower.”

after a bit of more advice, gepard left his sister’s workshop as she waved him goodbye. now, it's time to prepare for how he’ll make it up to you.

-

when the day arrived, gepard made his way to a flower shop nearby in search for some white tulips to purchase. he hasn’t really talked to you that much ever since that day, only because both of you are too tired and you don’t really see each other much despite living in the same quarters. (either gepard would come home too late or he would leave the house too early.)

strolling along the shop, he finally found what he was looking for. however, fate has other plans for him.

“gepard?” he heard from behind.

everything that was moving around him seemed to have stopped and he was frozen in place. he recognized that voice from anywhere—after all, it was your voice. gepard immediately had only three seconds to think of a response. but again, fate seemed to have some other plans for him because he couldn’t think of a response at all.

slowly turning around to face you, you were greeted by gepard who’s currently coughing into his closed fist with a hint of blush covering his cheeks. he’s embarrassed, you think. and you couldn’t help but find it adorable.

“you seem to be here as well,” he awkwardly says, desperately trying to hide the white tulips behind his back. “i decided to stop by to admire the pretty flowers, you?” as of the moment, everything wasn’t going according to gepard’s plan. his plan was to get you the flowers, pick you up, and spend the whole day with you as a way to make up for his past mistake.

however, as if fate is laughing at him right now, he just had to run into you at the flower shop. step one of the plan has already failed.

“i was just buying some flowers myself,” he replies, somewhat getting his composure back but you could still see his ears a bit red. you took note of his appearance right now—casual clothes and his favorite wrist watch (the one you gave him for his birthday) on his left wrist.

yep, he was definitely about to ask you out today.

truth be told, you heard from serval about the whole conversation she had with her brother. and that’s when you knew that he was anticipating this day. you knew gepard like the back of your hand, so of course he would take the closest date as his day off. but you were simply passing by the flower shop! you didn’t know about gepard’s plan at all (after all, serval was vague with her advice in the first place).

“really? are they the flowers that you’re hiding behind your back right now?” you chuckle, trying to peek at his back. gepard quickly hid it from your view and cleared his throat. “y-yes. actually, i do need to talk to you about something…” as gepard tries to find the right words to say, you beat him to it. 

“yes, i would love to go out with you today, geppie.”

of course, gepard was shocked. how did you know? he knows his sister isn’t the one who would snitch on him when it comes to this type of thing. “how did you…?”

“it was a bit obvious,” you giggle. you take a step closer to him, pressing a kiss on his cheek. “i’ll wait for you outside.”

it was a bit upsetting how you couldn’t properly talk things out about what happened that day but you really had forgiven gepard before this day off came. however, you knew that this probably wouldn’t be the first time it'd happen. relationships aren’t supposed to be all about sunshines and rainbows anyway.

let’s just say that the one who had a shift that time in the flower shop watched the two of you in envy by the counter, even more after gepard was done paying.