#it's terrible that he is the one who gets enthralled

[lordgrimwing]

losing my mind over the fact that

The Silmarils being precious beyond compare and actually making people unwilling to give them up is canon! Or, well, technically the canon that the Silmarils can enthrall people. Same thing.

I'm so tickled that this headcanon is actually canon, and you don't need to take my word for it, here's the pertinent quote:

"And Melkor, seeing that Fëanor wavered, and knowing that the Silmarils held his heart in thrall, said at last ..."

who cares what Melkor said, the Silmarils make people their thralls!!

The question is, have they had this ability since their creation, or only since the Valar hallowed them?

[entitled-fangirl]

Heterochromia.

Cregan Stark x wife!reader

SMUT 18+ PLEASE

Summary: the reader finally notices Cregan's eyes are two different colors. It enthralls her.

Warnings: sex, p in v, riding, kissing, talks of sex, the works, idk I didn't proofread so my b

A/n: this was based on an ask!

Masterlist

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

..............................................

Cregan held her to him as they both came down from their highs.

Sweat covered both of their foreheads, their hair greased with it. Cregan ran a hand across her forehead, gathering her hair and moving it behind her ear.

Cregan held himself up with one arm, the other caressing her face gently. His voice was soft. "You alright?"

She nodded, her eyes still glazed over and her breathing erratic.

His eyes studied her momentarily before deciding that was enough for him. 

The two sat in a brief silence as they tried to gain their bearings, the only sound being their panting and the occasional kiss between them. 

Finally, she broke the silence.

"Your eyes are beautiful."

It was so soft, he barely heard it. His brows furrowed as he looked down at her, the sheer blinds on the window doing nothing to keep out the light from outside, "Hmm?"

"Your eyes, Cregan." Her hand came up to his cheek. "They're quite lovely."

His hand on her face reached out and grabs her wrist, pulling her hand down to his lips where he kisses her palm. "You're far lovelier."

A sweet smile dons her face as Cregan continues to lay soft kisses against her palm.

"Perhaps a bath is in order?" She asked.

He pulls away from her hand finally, looking back down at her. "I do believe so."

She moves to sit up, hissing slightly at the burn inside her.

Cregan grabs her hips, keeping her down on the bed "What do you think you're doing?" He asks lowly.

"Getting… getting the servants?" She asked in confusion.

His eyes study her face before he shakes his head, "My lady wife will do no such thing."

"Cregan-"

A heavy kiss is laid on her lips, but before she has time to react, Cregan is already pushing himself off of the bed to stand. 

He dresses his lower half, taking the occasional glance to her, who is watching him just as much.

He walks to the door, poking his head out for just a moment before returning to her with a damp cloth.

He pauses at the foot of the bed, his eyes staring at her frame lovingly, "You're the most beautiful creature I've laid eyes on."

She smiles, pushing herself up but Cregan quickly sits at the end of the bed and pushes her shoulder down.

"Let me take care of you."

She's quick to give in, never one to fight the man. 

He pushes her thighs apart, a feeling she was not unfamiliar with, but a soft gasp left her lips when the cold cloth was brushed across the inside of her thighs. 

Cregan's quick to apologize, "'m sorry, my love. Didn't think it was too cold."

But it doesn't stop him from cleaning her up. With every wipe of the cold cloth, he bent down and placed a warm kiss in its wake. When the cloth began to clean further up, she let out a soft groan, "Careful, Cregan, or we'll never get to that bath."

He grinned, sitting up and looking over at her, "That wouldn't be so terrible, would it?"

She let out a breathy laugh, "You're a wonder, Stark."

"I only aim to please you, my lady."

With her cleaned up, Cregan threw the cloth aside. He reached down to the floor, picking up his tunic. "I had the bath drawn in your chambers. I… I didn't want the servants to see you until you felt ready to be seen."

He moved to the side of the bed, reaching an arm under her back to help her sit up. "I do hope that was alright."

She nodded, placing a soft kiss on his lips, "Thank you."

He threw the tunic over his wife's head, the long fabric puddling around her waist. 

He looked around, grabbing his cloak and pulling it over her shoulders.

She giggled, "What are you doing?"

Cregan then stretched both arms under her, picking her up off of the bed with ease. 

One of her hands wrapped around his neck, the other pulling the cloak around her half naked form as she shrieked in surprise.

"I'm taking my beautiful wife to bathe. Is that alright?"

She grinned, "I suppose."

…

Though insistent that she shouldn't strain her legs, Cregan couldn't tell her no when she straddled him in the tub.

At least in the water, he could support her hips. 

"They really are," she insisted.

He threw his head back with a light laugh, "I doubt your words, my love."

Both of her hands cupped his face, "They are truly the most spectacular colors I've ever seen."

"My eyes are not. They are not even the same color," he argued.

"And you believe that to be a defect?" She scoffed.

He rolled his eyes playfully, "No. Only… unusual."

"There is much beauty in the unusual, you know." She said in a insistent tone.

Only then did the words truly hit him. Cregan had once been insecure of his eyes as a young boy. In the North, it was easy to hide things. Eyes were never one of them.

His fingers dug into her hips lightly, "You truly think so?"

She noticed the softness that had suddenly come into his voice. She tilted her head. "I do. Why else would I say such a thing to you?"

His shoulders shrugged, "Dunno. I guess I've just never believe that about myself."

She kissed his cheek, "Allow me to change that."

…

The next day, the two spent the day in the courtyard. Cregan worked on his sword skills, while she sat nearby with her book. 

When the spar between him and his colleague had finished, he tossed Ice into the dirt and walked to her. 

Only when his shadow ran over the pages in her book did she notice him, prompting her to look up at the towering man. 

"Did you win?"

A breathy chuckle left his lips, "My love, I always win."

He pulled the book from her hands and knelt down in front of her. "I'll be finished in just a bit. Any plans for the rest of the day?"

Sunlight entered the courtyard, an unusual event for the North to receive direct sun. 

Cregan look up at the sky, squinting his eyes and looking back to her.

If he said something after that, she didn't hear it. She was so focused on the way the sun lit his eyes to brighter hues. 

It was breathtaking.

"I do." Was all she said to his question.

…

A few hours later, she was dragging a blindfolded Warden of the North behind her as she pulled him into her room.

She smiled when she saw the sunlight was still there. Though sunset, it lent a single golden beam through her window. 

Perfect.

"Sit." 

Cregan let out a scoff. "Where am I?"

"Sit down, Cregan."

He huffed, pulling his cloak out and sitting down on the cold floor.

The sun shine brightly through the blindfold, and he grimaced lightly.

He grunted when she began to pull at his clothes, stripping him of his cloak, and soon his tunic.

"My love-"

"-Trust me."

He continued to sit there, the sun keeping the cold chill of Winterfell away.

When her hands unbuttoned his trousers, he grabbed her wrist harshly, as if instinct, "Are you sure?"

She grinned, though it was still unseen by his eyes. "Very much so."

He hissed when her fingers began to pump up and down his length. 

"Sit still, Cregan."

He hadn't even noticed his hips moving. 

Soon, he felt her body heat near his.

She straddled him, sitting herself down on his length with a hiss of her own.

"Gods," he groaned.

When she felt adjusted to him, she yanked the blindfold off, the sun overwhelming for his eyes for a moment. 

When they adjusted, he saw where he was, but more accurately, the bright smile that his wife wore. 

"Pretty girl, what is this?"

"I want to see you fall apart for me. Your eyes. I want to see your eyes like this when I pleasure you."

Her hips rolled, making Cregan's hands grip her hips as he groaned. 

When his eyes closed, she lightly tapped his cheek, "Open. I want to see you. All of you."

The brilliant blue and green in his eyes came to life, as did he.

Her breath hitched at the sight, prompting her to roll her hips again.

…

Anytime the sun managed to visit Winterfell after that day, strangely enough, no one would see the Lord and Lady Stark. 

They were busy during those times, it seemed.

………………………………………..

Taglist: @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne

[melancholyhigh]

CRUSH CULTURE.

ft. college au!leon x reader

synopsis. you fuck up at being leon’s wingman, ruining his chances of getting a valentine’s day fuck. he’s frustrated and takes his anger out on you.

tags. 2.8k words. smut. mean!leon, lowk angsty, reader is kinda pathetic, angry fuck, dry humping, cunnilingus, dom!leon, rough sex, unprotected p in v, degradation, name calling (bitch, whore etc.), happy ending (?).

note. i’m sorry for being so inactive and rarely being online. school sucks so bad. i hope you guys can accept this as a formal apology. (let’s ignore that this is 2 days late.)

masterlist. reblogs & comments are highly welcomed :3

You aren’t the biggest fan of Valentine’s Day. You're sick of seeing everyone fall in love, watching lovers exchange cheesy gifts and bashful smiles. You’re sick of people pretending they love each other more than they actually do. No, you’re sick of being left out.

You were a hopeless romantic, chasing love only for it to fall flat. You were obsessed with finding your other half, the person who would cherish you as much as you treasured them. You didn’t know if you loved love or just the idea of it, but it wouldn’t matter.

You’re only hopeless as you help the man you liked hook up with someone at a shitty college party.

It’s pathetic, truly, chatting up some sorority girls and putting a good name out for Leon while he stood beside you. You didn’t get why he couldn’t do it himself. He was handsome, albeit a bit awkward, but so were you. It’s why you two got along anyway. Leon was watching as you tried to get the drunk girl’s attention on him. Throughout the night, your wingman skills had only failed. They either did not pay attention to you or paid too much attention to you.

You were sick of it. You would have preferred staying in your dorm room and rewatching one of your favourite rom-coms. But you were only a fool, trying to help your friend out. It hurt more being there with him as he lamely tried to pick up girls in front of you. You didn’t know what was more pathetic, his terrible jokes or the state you were, absolutely heartbroken that he wouldn’t give you the time of day he’d give to random girls.

Maybe it’s faith’s cruel way of commentating on your desire for love by making you play cupid for the only person you seem to care about more than yourself.

You and Leon had something special, or you had hoped so. You met in your first year of college. You were both fucking awkward that you had to initiate the first conversation. Majoring in similar subjects, you both had gotten along well. You would even say you were best friends, but you knew deep down you always wanted more.

Ever since you first met, you found him enthralling. It only got worse as you got closer. Learning more about him seemed to solidify your pining for him. You were the only person he talked to, and vice versa. You confided in each other, maybe more than what close friends should, so it was only inevitable that he would share with you that he wanted to lose his virginity.

You had looked at him perplexed. Leon was pretty attractive, and maybe you were biased, but how had no one fucked him? You’ve seen the way girls look at him, blushing when he even glances at them for a second.

That is when Leon told you he planned on trying to hook up with some girl at the party, and he wanted your help because he knew he would fuck up somehow. You had humoured him. Nothing more romantic than taking a random girl home on Valentine’s Day and fucking her brains out.

–-

“It’s not that serious, Leon,” you groaned for the umpteenth time. You were both walking back to his apartment after unsuccessfully trying to hook him up with some sorority girl. He was grumbling behind you, pissed and sexually frustrated.

“It was your fault.” You roll your eyes at his statement. When you reach the door of his flat, you observe as he clumsily takes his keys out, trying to open the door. He finally manages to open the door, and you enter, taking your shoes off before settling on his couch.

You watch him beyond amused at his predicament as he paces back and forth in front of you.

“Why did you have to mention that? They were so into me before you fucked it up,” he huffs, stilling his movement to glare at you.

“C’mon, Leon. I’m sure they couldn’t give a fuck that you’re a nerd,” you said, repeating the same word you had let slip when you were praising your beloved best friend. You peered back up at him, acting casual as if his icy gaze didn’t have your heart beating wildly against your chest. You rarely saw him angry, and when he was, he never directed it to you.

“You ruined my chances at finally getting laid. I don’t know how to talk to these girls. You’re the only person I have.” He’s frustrated with you for fucking up whatever chance he finally had at popping his cherry. Even though logically it’s not your fault nor your duty to get his dick wet, he didn’t want to take responsibility right now.

“I think you’re overreacting,” you sighed, standing up and moving towards him. You try to put a comforting hand on Leon’s shoulder, and he shrugs your touch off him. You don’t take it to heart. He’s a few inches taller than you, head slightly tilted as he looks down at you.

“Yeah? Well, now I have no one to fuck tonight.”

“I can change that,” you quip, and you instantly freeze at your own statement. You part your lips lightly in shock as you observe Leon’s reaction. It was a freudian slip, and it seemed to be happening more often than you’d like.

He continues looking down at you with furrowed brows as he tries to comprehend what you said. He thinks this might affect your friendship if you even mean what you said. He was horny, being teased all night by pretty girls in skimpy dresses, only to be denied, fucking furious too.

“Really?” He responds, somehow stepping closer to you. His eyes flicker down to your lips, and you try to back up, only to be pushed against the wall by him. His stare is still cold, piercing through you. He’s still pissed at you.

“Are you still mad?” You mumbled, your back flat against the wall of his living room. You knew the answer. You just wanted him to say it. Maybe you found his mean side more attractive than you’d like to admit. It was so rare to see him like this — a usually composed man so broken.

“Yes, I’m still fucking angry. Do you want me or not?” He seethes. You squeeze your thighs together at the tone he uses. You were so pathetic, getting wet at him berating you, but any attention was good attention.

He notices your reaction, grinning to himself. “You backing down?”

You shake your head no in response.

“Beg for it then. Beg for me to fuck you. That’s what you want, right?” He says, mocking you. It’s as if he knows how deep your desire burns for him, how badly you’d do anything for him if it meant he noticed you. His hands grasp your face, his fingers squishing your cheeks together as he forces your head back against the wall so you look up at him.

“Please, Leon. Fuck me. ‘M all yours.” You plead through pursed lips. Your eyes are glossy, and he’s laughing at your desperate nature. He would have never expected his best friend to be a whiny mess within his grasp.

He lets go of your face before leaning down, capturing your lips into his for a needy kiss. Your eyes flutter shut, and a surprised gasp escapes you. Teeth clashing, you’re whimpering desperately against his lips as you entangle your fingers into his soft golden locks. His hands trail down to your hips, gripping them as he moves his body against yours.

You let out a soft moan, and he pulled apart from the passionate kiss. Both your lips are swollen and covered with your shared saliva. He continues to grope your body eagerly as he pushes you further into the wall. “Shut up. I don’t want to hear you.”

Biting your lip, you try not to let any moans slip free while he toys with your sensitive body through your clothes. He hooks one of your legs over his hip while he explores your body. He grinds his hardening cock against your crotch, and the action does little to quell the ache inside you.

Your back arches off the wall, your head tipping back as you try to buck your hips to his. Digging your nails into his shirt, he hisses slightly, but your movements don’t get past him.

“So fucking desperate,” he moans loudly.

He continues to rock his clothed erection against your cunt. The rough fabric of your pants provides enough friction through your damp underwear to your clit. Your hand clamps around your mouth shut, suppressing your whines as you near your climax.

Leon’s eyes close while he groans lowly at the pleasure coursing through him as he ruts against you. He wants so badly to feel your dripping cunt against his throbbing length. Just as you’re about to finish, he pulls away, panting, and the feeling in your core dissipates.

“I want to fuck you properly.” You’re unsure if he knew what he had just done, but with the smug look he’s giving you, you’re positive it’s on purpose.

You push yourself off the wall of his living room, and with trembling legs, you follow him to his bedroom. You were familiar with the area and used to the messy appearance while you two were either doing work or binging shows. But it’s different now, he’s going to fuck you dumb in it.

You both begin to rid yourself of your clothes once you’re inside. You’re fully nude, lying flat on Leon’s mattress, and your skin feels tacky with sweat as it clings to his soft sheets. Leon is only in his boxers, precum staining the fabric, as his strong palms spread your bent legs apart to admire your bare pussy.

You realise that this is most likely his first time seeing one other than in porn videos he jerks himself off to. He marvels at how wet you are, your folds glistening with your slick. Leaning down, he buries his face between your thighs, lapping at you.

His tongue teases your entrance before slowly moving to your clit. He alternates between sucking on your sensitive nub and lapping at it slowly. He looks like he’s concentrated as he focuses on pleasing your cunt, his brows furrowed and his nails digging into the flesh of your thighs.

You can’t help the moans and sighs that slip past your lips while he eats you out. The pleasure is nearly dizzying as you grip the sheets. Your hips are bucking against his tongue, and Leon groans as you use his face. He’s not so subtly grinding against the sheets, his cock painfully hard as he fails to relieve the sensation.

Tentatively, he slurps at you, drinking in your essence. The wet, sloppy noises your cunt makes are embarrassing, but he’s obsessed with it and your taste. It’s addictive. He sucks at your clit roughly, adoring the reaction you give him. Your tummy clenches as he pays attention to your throbbing bud. Your sounds are getting more frequent as your orgasm quickly approaches you.

When you finally come undone, your thighs are quivering around his head as he revels in your release. He parts from your cunt, his lips coated in your cum like lip gloss as he licks them clean. Trying to collect yourself, your chest heaves as you pant heavily.

Leon slips his boxers down, revealing his hard-on. His cock was flushed red and dripping with precum as he stroked it. It was average in length but quite thick and prettier than you had imagined. But you shouldn’t act surprised.

You let out a whimper when he slid the tip of his cock through your folds stained with your cum and his saliva. Your pussy was overstimulated, spasming as he teased your entrance with his head.

“Shut the fuck up, bitch,” he groans, gripping your hip to steady himself. The heat of your cunt was welcoming as it tried to suck him inside you. His tip touches your overly sensitive clit. He was quickly losing his composure, desperate to fuck you open.

You both moan simultaneously when he fully enters his length inside of you. Your walls were sucking his cock deeping into you, filling you up to the brim with nothing but him.

You had not imagined your first time with Leon like this. You daydreamed of him taking you out on a cute date before undressing you and then fucking you slowly on a bed littered with rose petals. You did not anticipate that he’d split you open on his cock as a last resort taking his sexual frustration out on you. You can’t complain with how good he’s fucking you, even if it’s out of spite.

He begins thrusting his cock in and out of tight pussy, groaning. You feel each ridge and vein of his cock as he fucks the shape into you. You sometimes forget how well-built he is, usually concealed by his clothes, sweat dripping down his muscular frame.

“Your cock feels so fuckin’ good, Leon,” you gasped out loud, your nails digging into his biceps as he stretched you out of his fat cock.

“This was your plan, huh? You wanted me to fuck you, whore.” He says as he punctuates each word with a thrust.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as the tip of his cock presses against you deliciously. You did want him all to yourself, but you wouldn’t go as far as to sabotage him. You’re unable to answer him, too drunk on his cock bullying into that one spot inside of you.

“Answer me, bitch.” He huffs, gripping your jaw and positioning your face to his. He looks into your eyes only to note how they can barely stay open. His hips stutter at your fucked out expression. He was so fucking close, his abs flexing, only holding out so you can cum first.

“Y- Yeah, Leon. Want to you all for myself,” you stammer incoherently, tears collecting at your waterline as he pounds into your oversensitive cunt. Your walls grip around his cock sporadically as you near your climax.

“You like me too, then?” he mocks through clenched teeth. Your pussy hugs him tightly, and he thinks he might never want to leave your warm embrace.

“I’m so close,” you cry out, your body squirming in his hold. Your peak was rapidly approaching as he continued his assault on your pussy.

“Answer the question then you can come,” he whines, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, leaving marks as he nears his peak.

“Mhm! Yes, I’ve always fucking liked you, Leon.” You cried out, eager to expose all your secrets to him if it meant you came. As you climax, your pussy milks Leon’s cock as it gushes around him.

“Oh fuck. I’m gonna cum,” Leon moans, his voice breathy as his orgasm crashes after yours. He doesn’t know if it’s the weight of your confession or the whimpers that escape your throat that send butterflies in him as he spills into you. He kisses you one last time, moaning into you as he rides his high.

Pulling out, he collapses right next to you. You’re both panting, covered in cum and sweat. A wave of exhaustion overcomes you, and you hope he doesn’t bring up what you said amidst fucking. You’re content pretending it didn’t happen if it meant you wouldn’t get to face your fears.

“Thank you for uh,” Leon trails off, and it's like a switch flipped. He’s bashful at mentioning that he had just lost his virginity as if he wasn’t calling you a whore a few minutes ago. Turning to his side, you come nearly face-to-face with him once again.

“Mhm, you’re welcome, I think.” You’re still unsure how you feel about the situation. Finally, you had fucked him, but what significance did it hold to him? Your eyes flutter shut, sleep finally overcoming your wrecked body. You expected the same would happen to Leon, but you were wrong. Leon was in deep thought.

Leon calls your name, cutting your sleep short. You snap your eyes open, sitting up, you await his question with your arms crossed. He looked uneasy, but you’re too drained to question why.

“Did you mean what you said? That you liked me.” His voice is quiet as he gazes at your form.

“Uh, yeah,” you mumbled in response. What was even the point of lying anymore? His cum was dripping between your thighs. What is the worst he can do? You think you can already guess his response. Guilt was eating at you. He wouldn’t be in this position if you did what he wanted. You added, “Sorry for fucking up your night.”

It’s quiet, and you’re nervously trying to gauge his reaction until he breaks the silence.

“I think I found someone better,” he responds. You laugh at the mere absurdity of the entire situation.

“It took fucking me to find that out?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

[bunji-enthusiast]

Slides you a paper, simple lil request

Reader is talking to Dogday and not watching where their going, they nearly fall off a ledge but Dogday, catching them, decides they don't need to walk and will thus be carried.

Ps. Lil Dogday with legs idea ^^

Note || combining these two requests cause I can.

Sypnosis || your companion seemed to be very strong, carrying you in spite of your protests.

DogDay –

Being as it is, you were hurt. Badly enough as it is, he was beginning to get worried. On the off hand, you had done so much for him already, giving back his legs so he could walk and even freeing him way before that. Your body seemed to be sorely injured, yet you always pushed on. You always liked helping people and toys alike where you can, so as long as they were sane and not conceivable in the far off ends of pure insanity after being in the factory for so long.

DogDay was, in a way, very impressed with how you managed to get so far. But now, he simply wasn’t having it.

“I swear, ‘Go back to bed, you’ll feel better in the morning’ haha–” You wanted to continue, being so enthralled with talking to DogDay who was tentatively listening to you as you two had made your roundabouts yet other things had occurred. With a yelp escaping you, you slipped and fell.

“AH!” You closed your eyes, seeing you tripped off of a ledge. Suddenly, you realize that someone had caught you. DogDay, he held you close to his chest, as if he was fearing you would get hurt again. “Angel, you should take a break from walking for a while… ok?” DogDay had tilted his head slightly at you, as if he wanted to be sure you had heard what he said.

You nodded, a little caught off guard by this sudden change in his outward personality. As if he was taking on the role of a protective familiar member, it gave you a sense of nostalgia. You sighed as your head laid against his chest, noticing the fact one arm of his was cradling your legs, the other holding your back.

“Ah fine…”

CatNap –

The crash was terrible, leaving you on the tracks numb and in pain. You didn’t understand what was happening, only blacking out and leaving the realm of the conscious for a period of time (though seemingly it felt very long). Your dreams felt terrible, running away and trying to scrape by at every possible moment. Though it was relief enough when you realized you were just asleep, though one thing had remained strange however. 

Were you… being carried by someone, you didn’t get a good look at the said body. You blinked your eyes, trying to tide away the blurriness ebbing at your peripherals. You cry out when you finally make the connection, CatNap, the one you had seen before all those years ago before being recalled was carrying you. 

Like a kitten being carried by the scruff apparently? You couldn’t get a good look.

‘Gods… it hurts.’ you thought to yourself, knowing full well wherever that CatNap was carrying you was not going to be a good or even convenient location in any case. You were slightly panicked, but more put off by how heavily you could hear CatNap breathing. “You really need to work out..” You pause for a moment, feeling the pain sharp in your skin like thousands of thousands of needles rubbing straight in. “More often.” At this, CatNap paused, causing you to think he was probably surprised at your choice of words. Oh, the look on his face was one you most wished to see right now.

Though he had finally resumed, continuing to walk despite the fact he had just paused for a good minute or so. 

You wonder if he was truly well intentioned at the very moment.

[4nicolas]

can we talk about how nice it would be to cuddle true form sukuna? mfer could cradle you with four arms, he’s also giant and definitely warm.

heian era sukuna x reader

—————————————————————————

when you woke up, you felt like you were trapped, unable to breathe, unable to move. opening your eyes slowly, you squint, realizing why you felt this way.

a head of spiky pink hair laid atop your chest, just barely grazing your neck and chin. sukuna was laying on top of you, his head resting right below your collarbones and his body halfway on yours.

two of his arms lay over you, one pushed up over your shoulder, tucked neatly under the pillow, the other lazily laying over your waist.

sukunas other hands lay resting on the other side of you, his top pair of arms trapping your head between them. one of his legs was tangled with yours, rendering your legs unable to move as well.

unable to do anything you simply closed your eyes, listening to sukunas light snores and the way his bare back rose ever so slightly signaling he was still breathing and alive.

his presence was calming to you, which was something you’re fairly sure only you could say. when he was around you, your body felt more at ease, feeling protected by this walking natural disaster; you weren’t scared, you could never be, in fact you were enthralled by him.

the way he looked at you, the way his hands moved up and down your body, praising you even though thousands praised him. he looked at you like you were the only person in the world, his eyes always holding a certain longing in them.

you learned to treasure these moments, sukuna rarely ever shown a “soft” side. it simply wasn’t who he was. he grew up being a feared murderer and that was who he grew into.

everyone knew sukuna as the king of curses, the embodiment of evil, an abomination, but to you, he was just sukuna.

the same sukuna who cradled you in his arms after a long day. the same sukuna who listened to you rant about your day and random topics you enjoyed. the same sukuna who would have uraume fix you the best meals, making sure to take care of you before him. the same sukuna who would kill everyone in the damn world for you.

no one saw this side of sukuna, that was a fact, you were the only exception, the only person in the entire world who could be so close to sukuna.

sukuna always made sure you knew that, telling you that no one else deserved his attention like you, how he’d kill anyone else who tried to do the same things you did.

a low groan and slight shift brought you back to reality, seeing the pink haired man move, adjusting his position. you felt him take a deep breath before turning his head to face you, propped up on his chin, his eyes examined you.

you were sure you had terrible bed head, your face felt puffy and you could feel yourself sweating but that didn’t stop him from looking at you like you were everything.

his eyes were so impossibly soft, his pupils were dialated, you were unsure whether it was from just waking up or something else. the both of you stayed silent, each of you getting refamilarized with the wrinkles and crevices of your faces.

you always thought sukunas eyes were beautiful, the deep crimson seemingly pulling you in. his eyes were captivating, so unique that even animals stop and stare.

everything about sukuna was unique. sukunas lip upturned slightly, a soft smile forming on his features. “g’morning…” he spoke right into your face, his voice deep and raspy from just waking.

you couldn’t help but smile back, swallowing as you returning the goodmorning. sukuna sighed, sounding content as his arm to the left of your face went up to cup your cheek.

you instantly leaned into his touch, his hand was rough and calloused but he touched you with such gentleness it didn’t even matter.

your mornings normally went like this, you woke up first, sukuna waking up shortly after, leading to lazy cuddles and warm bodies pressing against each other.

a comfortable silence fell over you, the two of you were lost in one another’s eyes, unable to tear away. you closed your eyes, leaning your head back before exhaling.

you could feel sukunas eyes still on you, observing sleepily. sukunas thumb starting rubbing circles into your cheeks, his hand on your waist traveling up and down.

the contact made you smile, looking down at sukuna. wiggling your arm from underneath his body you wrapped it around his back, feeling his muscles and scars from everything he’s done.

sukunas body was that of a deity. it exceeded anything close to ethereal. everything about his body was scarily strong, his arms and legs huge and powerful.

one could say having two faces and two sets of arms was weird yet it benefitted everything that he was. this man was made to be worshipped, he was something extraordinary, straight out of a fairytale.

your hand rubbed his back, his body seemed to relax even further against your touch. you were at peace, well as much peace as one could be squished under four hundred pounds of pure muscle.

now sukuna closed his eyes, copying your actions from earlier as his pushed his face into your chest, taking deep breathes, just enjoying the moment with you.

sukuna always slept with his shirt off, whether it was a preference or it was for you, you didn’t know, but he did. you recalled hearing him say something along the lines of enjoying the feeling of his bare skin against you, but you might’ve dreamt that.

every chance sukuna got he tried to be impossibly close to you, his hands lingering on your hips, cupping your cheek, holding your hand, kissing your knuckles, hugging you.

his favorite thing was to be with you; killing people who pissed him off was close second, and eating those people was third. when sukuna was away from you his mood plummeted, he acted like a completely different person the moment you were more than ten feet away from him.

you’ve brought this up before, but he simply shrugs it off, ignoring it in a way. you thought it’s because he didn’t want to admit to being clingy, scratch that, you knew it was because he didn’t want to admit to being clingy.

he would never say such foolish words yet here was, pressed up against you, arms wrapped around you tightly with his face pushed into your chest.

moving your hand up his back you reached his hair, gently combing the pink locks, scratching his head tenderly. sukuna groaned into your shirt, taking in a deep breath before exhaling.

sukuna loved breathing in your smell, there was something about it that made him feel giddy, excited even. he loved holding you in his lap, simply holding his face in your neck as he inhaled your scent.

when he’s stressed or frustrated about something going on, your scent would bring him back to earth, helping him focus and be more alert from you just being next to him.

your body always brought him back to his senses, whether it be the softness of your hands on his body or the hugs you give him. he couldn’t get enough of you.

sometimes he wondered if you put him under a spell, that maybe you had some technique that causes him to act like this. he was not used to feeling so… so strongly about someone.

the way his heart would beat faster when you were around, the way his stomach gets queasy when you touch him, the way you intoxicate him with every little thing about you.

he often thinks about what he’ll do when you’ll die, hell if you get killed, many people have it out for sukuna and he was constantly on edge fearing that you were in danger.

he hated when you were away from him, scared you weren’t going to come back. he would even go as far as to send uraume to watch you from a distance, not wanting to take any chances.

he cared about you and it hurt him. it hurt him how you were leverage against him, something that made him weak, something that could be used against him.

none of this mattered right now because you were in his arms, protected from all danger. as long as he was here you wouldn’t have so much as a scratch on you, and if you were to return injured, even something as little as a scratch, the thing that caused it would be in for a new world of pain.

his hands held you tighter, pulling you closer to him. as long as he had you here, he didn’t have to worry. he was fine because you were cuddled up against him.

you felt yourself growing tired again because sukunas warm weighted blanket-esk body was on top of you, not that you were complaining but you really didn’t wanna go back to sleep.

not like you had any say in the matter, as long as sukuna sleeps, you sleep, even if he didn’t join you until 1 or 2 in the morning.

sukuna shuffled above you, extending his leg further over yours to make double sure you weren’t going anywhere, even though he knew you’d never try.

his hands return to their normal places as sukuna feels his eyes growing heavy again. he could worry about you when he was awake and you were out of his arms.

until then though, he was happy, happy being in your arms as you were in his.

—————————————————————————

yeah uhm, I freaking love sukuna and had this idea at 3am. i’m tired and don’t feel like proofreading so if it sucks, sowwy!

that’s all.

[storiesforallfandoms]

betrothed ~ emperor geta;gladiator ii

word count: 3607

request?: no

description: in which her parents want to arrange a marriage with one of the two emperor brothers, so she is taken to meet them and is surprised when she gets along so well with the younger brother

pairing: emperor geta x female!reader

warnings: swearing, use of y/n, period typical misogyny/views of women, arranged marriage, historical inaccuracies, definitely going to be an inaccurate depiction of geta because i know that man is going to be a vile villain but y'know

masterlist (one, two, three)

You followed your parents through the halls of the palace. They were walking with their heads high, proud, meanwhile you were trailing behind them, cowering. You had been told just moments before your arrival that your parents intended to marry you off to one of the emperors; brothers Geta and Caracalla. They had offered you up to the brothers for marriage without your knowledge, and now they were bringing you to meet them so one of them could choose to marry you.

You knew eventually your parents would arrange for you to wed. It was an expectation from the moment you started bleeding, meaning you were able to carry children. There were no guarantees you would like your husband to be. That's not how marriage worked. But you never expected to be married off to a man you were terrified of.

Besides the fact that Geta and Caracalla were co-emperors of the entire Roman Empire, you had heard that they were both violent and terrible men. There was no better option in this betrothal, only fear.

Your parents stood before the two emperors. They both already looked bored by the whole affair. You tried not to shrink back further under their glares. Your parents bowed, and you quickly followed as not to be scrutinized further.

"Your majesties," your father spoke. "We present to you our daughter, (Y/N)."

Your mother nudged you forward. You stumbled to the fore front, all attention now on you. You awkwardly bowed again, murmuring, "Your majesties."

"This is who you expect us to marry?" Caracalla sneered. "I've seen whores who have looked prettier. More experienced, too."

Caracalla smirked at his younger brother, but Geta was still staring at you, studying you. You couldn't stop trembling under his intense gaze. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw your mother clenching her jaw. You weren't sure if she was upset over Caracalla's insult, or over your continued awkwardness.

The eldest brother sighed and rose from his seat. "She is yours, brother. I feel no need to fight you over her when I can find myself a better wife."

He left without another word, while Geta was still looking at you. He finally spoke to ask one of his servants to take you to your room. You turned back to your parents, wanting nothing more than for them to change their mind and take you away. Of course they couldn't even if they wanted to. They just smiled at you and allowed themselves to be escorted away by another servant.

You followed the young lady with you to a room that was set to be yours. It was a large room, filled with everything you could ask for. Under different circumstances, you would be enthralled by this new room, but all you could think about was your imminent future. Would you still be in this room after you and Geta were wed? Or would you have to move to his room?

The thought of having to share a bed with him made you feel faint.

You heard someone enter the room as the servant started to leave. You turned to find Geta, stood tall and broad in the doorway. The servant bowed, but Geta's attention was solely on you. He moved from the doorway and motioned for her to leave. Suddenly, you were alone with him.

You remembered yourself and moved to bow. Geta held up a hand. "No need for that. We are to be wed soon, which means you will be the Empress of Rome."

You nodded, but the reminder of your future title left you unable to speak as you were focusing on trying to stay upright.

His eyes were raking over you again. "You are a quiet one."

"I-I am sorry, your majesty," you said, your voice soft and quiet. It seemed to amuse Geta.

"We will change that. My wife will not be seen as cowardly and weak." You merely nodded again. Geta took a step towards you and you tried not to flinch. He stopped and something seemed to soften in his face. "I know what is expected of us once we are wed, but I want you to know that I will not touch you without your consent. You can continue to stay in this room as long as you please. I just ask you to accompany me when I call upon you. Is that agreeable?"

You found your voice finally to say, "Y-Yes."

He nodded, then left without another word. Once you were sure you were alone, you let yourself cry.

~~~~~~

You and Geta were married days later. It was a beautiful wedding, and your parents were allowed to be in attendance. You smiled and pretended to be happy in front of the audience, but in private you were still crying over the whole arrangement.

Geta kept his word; he did not touch you or force you into his room without your consent. He kissed you once on your wedding day, but that was the extent of it. And because he kept to his word, you kept to yours and joined Geta whenever he called on you. It was mainly for official events - meetings, tournaments, and the like - where he needed his wife to be present.

The one time he had asked for your presence for something unofficial was by accident.

You had taken to exploring the palace on your off time. It was so large that even after almost a month of being there, you were still finding new areas to see. You weren't allowed out of the palace on your own as Geta said it was too dangerous, but there were plenty of days when you wished you could see the grounds, and not just to see the gladiator tournaments.

You were wandering the halls on your own when you suddenly ran into Geta. You didn't expect to see him as you thought he was having a meeting with his brother and the general. You also didn't expect the smile that he gave you when he saw you.

"Hello, my darling," he said.

"Geta," you said, stopping yourself before you instinctively bowed. "I did not expect to see you so soon."

"My meeting was cut short." Geta sighed and shook his head. "My brother has quite the temper sometimes. It is why I usually handle these type of things."

You couldn't help the look on your face in response to his comment. To your further surprise, he laughed.

"I know, I do not seem much better. But I promise you when you have seen me lose my temper, it is mostly warranted. Caracalla will lose his temper because he is not being spoken to directly, even though there were several of us there."

When he stepped towards you, you didn't back away the way you would have when you first met him. He offered an arm to you and asked, "Will you allow me to accompany you, my darling?"

You felt you couldn't say no since you both had an agreement, but you also felt a surprising desire to have him accompany you. So, you took his arm, and he started to walk with you.

"How would you like to see the grounds?" he asked.

"I thought it was too dangerous."

"Only if you go on your own. We cannot risk our enemies finding the Empress on her own. They could harm you, take you, or kill you."

You tensed beside him. You were still getting used to how dangerous this new role you had was.

He noticed your tenseness and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. "I will not let anything happen to you. Trust me, my darling. You are safe with me."

And you believed him. Had he not been keeping that promise, even before making it? He had made sure you didn't leave the palace unsupervised, he was always by your side during public events. This may not have been a love marriage, but it was clear you both had respect for one another.

Seeing the outside of the palace for something other an a gladiator fight was lovely. The view - which you got from your room anyways, but this was different - was breathtaking. You often forgot how beautiful Rome was. It was easy to see so much of the land since the palace was placed higher above everyone else (you tried not to think about the implications of that).

"Do you ever leave the palace?" you asked him. "Besides for your official meetings and such?"

"Not usually," he responded. "It is too dangerous for me to go out on my own, and what would the point of going out with my guards be? I could not truly enjoy being out."

"That sounds awful," you commented, mainly to yourself. This may be a new role and new rules for you, but this was something Geta had been putting up with his entire life. He was the son of a previous Emperor, he was raised in this exact palace. He was probably under a watchful eye his entire life, very rarely ever getting moments alone.

He seemed amused by your comment, though. "Would you want to leave the palace? Obviously, as I said, we cannot leave alone, but we could always go for a walk with the guards."

You simply looked up at him. You were astonished by how nice he was being. Granted, you hadn't spent much time with Geta away from the watchful eyes of his armies or his people, but you had heard plenty about Geta before meeting and marrying him. Everyone called him and his brother ruthless and vile men. You had met plenty of people who would spit at the ground at just the mention of their names, and others who would curse upon them. Caracalla certainly lived up to his reputation, but so far, Geta only did when he had an audience.

"Is there something the matter?" he asked.

"I...am surprised by you," you admitted.

"Surprised by me? What have I done to surprise you?"

"You are...kind."

Any other person would probably be offended by the fact that being kind was a surprise. But Geta was well aware of the reputation he and his brother had, so he completely understood why you were shocked to learn that he had a kinder side to him.

He stopped walking and turned to face you. He had taken your hands in his and ran his thumbs over your knuckles. "Being in such high power, there is a certain image you must uphold so that you do not appear weak to your enemies. That is what our father told us when we were young. He taught us to be ruthless so that others knew not to fuck with us or our families. Caracalla took to that more than I did. He has a temper, he enjoys violence, although he would never put himself on the front lines during a war, and he believes he has the right to anything and everything he wants because he is an Emperor. He sometimes forgets that that is a title he shares with me."

"Everyone says you are both the same," you pointed out.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "All for show, my darling. If I was to show myself as being weaker than my brother, then I would be a target."

Geta moved an inch closer to you. You found yourself inhaling sharply at his sudden closeness, but not in fear as you may have once done.

"It is why I will be forever grateful that Caracalla did not want to marry you," he said. "From the moment you were brought before us, I could tell that you were not like he is; not like how I pretend to be. If Caracalla had wed you, he would not have been as...kind to you as I have been."

You knew what he meant, and the thought of it made you shudder.

"I was willing to take him in combat to marry you if I had to," Geta admitted. "Which I knew he would turn down anyways because, like I said, he is not one to fight his own battles. But I would not doubt him to try so that he could be the one to wed and have an heir first."

It was a lot to take in. You had come into this marriage thinking you knew everything about Geta, but you were learning just how wrong you were to think that. And you were certainly more than happy to be wrong.

You were suddenly much more aware of his closeness to you and the feeling of his hands on yours. It made your heart beat a little faster, and your body light on fire. You wondered if he felt it too, whatever "it" was.

"Thank you," you said, your voice so soft it was almost a whisper. You weren't sure what you were thanking him for; for being honest? For being kind? For protecting you?

Either way, he did not question it. He merely smiled down at you and said, "You are welcome, my darling."

~~~~~~

The next time you were called upon was a few days later for another gladiator tournament. Geta and Caracalla had acquired a new gladiator (Geta had told you not to question how this "acquiring" happened, and you were more than happy to follow his word), and it seemed they wanted to put him to the test immediately. Caracalla was practically giddy with excitement over it, while Geta remained as composed as he could.

You had followed them to their perch - high above the arena and closed off to anyone who was not one of the Emperors or their people. There were two seats for both Emperors, and both were big enough to seat two people. You took your place next to Geta, the side of your body pressing against his as you sat. The small contact alone made your body tingle, but now was not the time to get lost in these new feelings. You had an audience, and in front of an audience there was an image to uphold. You had come to learn very quickly how to act when you were in front of others - head held high, stone faced, follow whatever Geta said to you.

The crowd below you were cheering in excitement. Caracalla was already on the edge of his seat, impatient for the fighting to begin. You, on the other hand, were just waiting for the moment it ended.

You hated the gladiator fights. You didn't like the violence, and almost every time you had come since marrying Geta, they had ended in death. You often had nightmares about what you had seen inside the coliseum.

The crowd roared as the gates opened and the new gladiator entered. Across from him, another gate opened and three other men - past winners of these tournaments - stepped out.

You gasped. "Three against one?"

"Three winners," Caracalla said. "We must see how well our new fighter can do."

"That is hardly fair!"

"Nothing is fair in combat." He had a shit eating grin on his face, and you wished nothing more than to punch him directly in that grin of his.

But, since you couldn't do that, you did the next best thing and retorted, "What do you know of combat?"

Your words seemed to do enough as Caracalla's painted white face started to turn pink with anger. Geta caught your eye and smirked at you, making you feel even more proud of yourself.

The fighting started, and it was quite clear that the new gladiator could hold his own. He took down the first of the three with no problem, taking his weapon and incapacitating him within seconds. The second man put up more of a fight, but eventually he went down as well. The third was smarter. He had been waiting for his chance to go one on one with the new gladiator, saving his strength and his energy. And once it was just the two of them, the third man struck with a vigor.

You gasped as the new gladiator was wounded, blood spraying from a gash on his leg. Geta reached over to take your hand in his, giving it a squeeze. It did little to reassure you as your eyes stayed glued to what was happening below. The new gladiator had fell to his knees, but was still fighting the best he could. The third man was stood over him, sword in hand. It was clear to both of them, as well as the entire audience, who the winner was. They were just waiting for the say.

Geta stood from his seat, letting go of your hand. He looked over at his brother, who was nearly falling out of his chair with excitement. But when he looked to you, he saw a completely different reaction. You tried to rarely show emotion at these battles, but you had found yourself with tears in your eyes over the unfair odds against the new gladiator. He was about to lose his life because Caracalla and the other men involved with creating these tournaments did not care to play fair.

Seeing your upset seemed to soften Geta. He turned back to the two men who were waiting below and held out a fist.

The audience went silent as Geta flipped his thumb upward, signaling for the new man to be spared.

There was a moment, as if waiting to make sure Geta was serious, before the third man sheathed his sword. The new gladiator hunched over, his leg still bleeding from his wound. Someone would come and get him and patch him up, you were sure, but neither of you stuck around long enough to see. Geta had turned back to you almost immediately and extended a hand to you. He helped you up from your seat, then looped an arm through yours to guide you back inside.

"You spared him," you said, still in disbelief.

"You did not want to see him die," he responded, as if it were common sense.

"But...every other time..."

"Every other time has been a fair fight. As you said, it was unfair for him to be up against three previous victors. He will be treated, and should he survive from the wound on his leg, he will continue to train so that he can fight again. This time, more fairly."

You couldn't believe what he was saying. He had spared a man for you. Because you said the odds were unfair, because seeing this man die would've upset you too much.

He did this for you.

Your thoughts were quickly interrupted by Caracalla calling, "You have gone soft, brother!"

The two of you turned to see Geta's brother storming towards you. His face was now completely red with anger as he pointed at his brother. "You have made a mockery of us."

"I hardly think sparing one man's life makes anyone think any differently of us," Geta scoffed.

"It makes us look weak! It will make them all think that we are too weak to call for the death of another man."

"It was an unfair fight, brother. I was not going to let our new gladiator lose when the odds were against him in such an unfair way."

Caracalla's eyes flickered to you for a moment. You had to stop yourself from shrinking behind Geta.

"So she is the problem then?" Caracalla said. "This bitch has made you soft."

Before you could register what was happening, Geta had Caracalla up against a wall with a dagger to his brother's throat. The guards were watching, unsure what they were meant to do.

"Do not speak of my wife that way ever again," Geta hissed. "If I ever hear of you demeaning her, or me, again, I will make sure it is you who ends up in the arena next. Do I make myself clear, brother?"

Caracalla nodded quickly. You thought you could see tears briming his lash line, but you weren't completely sure. When Geta let him go, he crumbled to the floor. His guards were quick to surround him, while yours and Geta's followed the two of you. Geta's dagger was sheathed and his hand was in yours again in a matter of seconds.

"Was that smart?" you asked him. "Could he use that against you at all?"

"I do not care what he intends to do about my threat," Geta muttered. "I will not have him insulting my wife like that, especially not to my face."

You stopped walking, pulling Geta to a halt. He looked back at you, confused. You pulled him to you and pressed your lips against his. He seemed surprised, but he certainly wasn't about to push you off of him. You had known for a while that the feeling growing within you was love, but now you were finally realizing that Geta truly did feel the same way for you. He was willing to spare a man's life, and to threaten his brother's, in your honor. That was so much more than just a mutual respect.

You pulled away first, albeit reluctantly, to tell him, "I wish to stay with you in your room tonight. And maybe...for the foreseeable future, if you will have me."

Geta's face lit up. He gently cupped your cheeks and pulled you in for another gentle kiss. "Of course, my darling. I wish to have you for as long as you wish to be with me."

[mytheoristavenue]

Aki, Denji, & Power Period Comfort!

Summary: Having four roommates in a two-bedroom, one-bathroom apartment is complicated enough, but it's even worse when you discover you're the only one to have a period.

Warnings: All platonic, fem!reader, period comfort, fluff, takes place just after season one, just three idiots trying their best

🌸 None of you were very enthralled when Makima ordered you to move into Aki's apartment, seeing as it was already overcrowded. He had half a mind to pile you in with Denji and Power, or make you sleep in the living room but Makima convinced him to accommodate you properly. To his dismay, that meant sharing his room with Denji and letting you share with Power.

🌸 As much as you hated the arrangement, you adjusted. Luckily, Power tended to end up sleeping on the floor in a nest of blankets and dirty clothes, cuddled up with her cat, which gave you the bed to yourself most of the time.

🌸 That came especially in handy in times like these. This was the first period you'd had since moving in and it was especially bad. You'd been in terrible pain all morning, curled up with a hot water bottle like it was your lifeline. Luckily, Meowy had sensed your discomfort and came to cuddle with you for a change.

🌸 "Cat thief!" You heard from your roommate as she stirred awake to find her beloved companion's betrayal. "Unhand my darling Meowy!" Yeah, you definitely weren't in the mood for her crap today, lifting the cat, much to it's dismay and setting it on the floor.

🌸 "It came to me, jeez," You groaned, pulling the blanket over your head. "Not trying to steal your cat, you psycho."

🌸 Before you knew it, the feral girl was pressing her nose into Meowy's fur in pursuit of something, turning her face to the air, sniffing it as well. "The scent of blood is in the air, did you hurt my cat?" She asked accusingly before giving a smug grin. "I see, you tried to take him and he scratched you, is that it?"

🌸 "No, dipshit, I'm on my period." You groaned, patience already thinner than trace paper. Power gave you the most condescending look she was capable of, explaining that a period was a grammatical symbol of punctuation, not a physical thing you could lay on. You paled, staring at her blankly. "Power, do you not have a menstrual cycle?"

🌸 "Of course not!" She huffed. "Fiends are incapable of organic reproduction! Such is a human weakness!" Great, the only other girl in the house had no clue about girl problems. You went on to explain a few things to her, such as what a period is and why it had you so disgruntled. "Ahh, so that explains your paler complexion, you're suffering from blood loss!"

🌸 If there is only one thing Power understood, its blood and how a lack there of can affect the performance of the body. She thought to herself before getting an idea. "Iron, you need iron!" She decided, scrambling to her feet, darting to the kitchen.

🌸 You couldn't help but laugh. She wasnt not the brightest, especially when it comes to human affairs, but it warmed your heart to see her so eager to help solve your probelm, even if she didn't fully understand it. Just as you were about to get out of bed and see what she was up to, you heard a voice that makes you cringe.

🌸 "Yo, stop pullin' everything outta the fridge, dumbass!" Your shoulders slumped, knowing Power would surely explain her antics to Denji, who you were certain would be disgusted.

🌸 "Unhand that contianer, I'm on the hunt for red meat!" Your roommate shouted, sparking an altercation. "(Y/N)'s life hangs in the balance! She's bleeding out, she needs iron!" Her words seemed to quell his irritation and before you knew it, he'd barged into your room, panic written all over his face.

🌸 "Holy shit, are you dying?!" You couldn't hide your annoyance, pinching the bridge of your nose as his eyes scanned you worriedly.

🌸 "I'm not dying, I'm not bleeding out, and my life does not hang in the balance." You grumbled, brow twitching. "I'm just on my period."

🌸 "Oh, gross," The look on your face told Denji he'd made a mistake with that comment and he was quick to backtrack. "I-I mean, uh, it's cool, it's totally natural! I-I think..."

🌸 "You're an idiot." You deadpanned, pointing out the door to usher him out. To your dismay, he came right back with a stale pillow and blanket. He nervously fluffed the naked pillow and shoved it behind your back, spreading the blanket out on top of you. You couldn't stay mad at him, he was trying.

🌸 "Oh shit, periods like- hurt, right?" He thought aloud, leaving again and returning with a bottle of generic painkillers. "Oh wait, you need a drink, uh, hold on." He tossed the bottle at you and scrambled back to the kitchen, before bringing you a soda.

🌸 "Can I have some water instead?" You asked politely, trying to hide your amused smile. He looked between you and the soda can, puzzled.

🌸 "I mean, I guess," He accepted suspiciously. "What, you don't like soda anymore?" Before you can explain to him the link between the pain and the caffeine in the drink, Power bursted into the room, shoving him to the side and pushinng a plate of raw red meat into your lap.

🌸 "You dumbass, humans can't eat raw meat, it's bad for us!" Denji scolded, grabbing the plate and handing it back to her. "You have to cook this shit!"

🌸 "I don't know how to cook!" Power argued back childishly. "Besides, the bloodier the meat, the more iron it will restore to her bloodstream! It has to be raw!"

🌸 "Listen, humans can't digest raw shit like that! If (Y/N) eats that she'll probably die of salmonella or somethin'!" You didn't have the heart to explain that that's not how such a bacteria was passed on, but you did agree that, knowing Power's hygiene habits, she could give you salmonella.

🌸 You groaned, letting them bicker until the front door opened, slamming shut. "Why the hell is my kitchen in shambles right now?" Aki bellowed prompting both of your 'care takers' to scurry away.

🌸 "(Y/N) is dying of blood loss!" Power informed him, urging how dire the situation is.

🌸 "Nuh-uh, dipshit, she's just on the rag." Denji rolled his eyes at her concern.

🌸 "And that means you destroyed my kitchen and piled all the raw beef we had on one plate, why?" Aki narrowed his eyes at the pair. "Mind explaining further?"

🌸 "She has to build up her iron levels!" She growled, irritated that nobody is listening to her expertise. Denji continued to argue, thinking surely, she's full of crap.

🌸 "No, that's actually true," Aki admitted with a heavy sigh, already beginning to clean up her mess. "Red meat contains iron and when you lose a lot of blood, you develope an iron deficiency. Eating iron rich foods help replenish your iron levels faster." He explains, finally putting Power's words in a way the boy would understand.

🌸 "But she just can't eat a fuck ton raw meat!" Denji huffed, more irritated that he was wrong than anything else.

🌸 "Also true," Aki sighed, taking out a skillet and setting it on top of the stove, pulling the plate closer. "Look, I'll take care of this. Denji, go run a hot bath, Power, you go see what kind of products she uses and what snacks she likes."

🌸 Power came back and asks you what you prefered for this time of the month. After both of their tasks are completed, Aki sent them both to the nearest corner store with a specific list of what to buy.

🌸 After they left, he peered into the room calmly. "Denji ran you a bath, go ahead while I make you some food." He suggested kindly tilting his head towards the bathroom. You thanked him, relieved to have someone who sort of understands.

🌸 By the time you got out if the bath, you were much more relaxed, muscles no longer as sore. To your suprise, your fuzziest pajamas were sitting on the sink along with a warm towel. Exiting the bathroom, you realized Denji and Power were back, bags still in hand.

🌸 Aki waved you over to the table, inviting you to sit down with them all. When you did, he served you a portion of broccoli and beef. After lunch, he took the dishes, giving the other pair a chance to pass off what they bought you.

🌸 You didn't miss the pink in Denji's cheeks when he handed you a specific bag, tied off at the top. You correctly guessed that it was the one containing the products you'd asked for. Aki walked back over and sits back down as Power starts to hand you snacks.

🌸 She piles your arms with junk food, decaffeinated drinks, and dark chocolate. "Aki forbade us from buying anything with caffine!" She explained, annoyed, as if the idea was inconvenient for her specifically.

🌸 "Caffine will make you feel worse than your already do." He explained, passing over a still packaged electrical heat pad and a small stuffed bear. "These are just for comfort."

🌸 After spending a bit of time them, thanking them for their help, you decided to curl up in bed and test out the heating pad. You most definitely didn't expect to find your bed with many more blankets and pillows than you'd left it with. It had effectively become a nest of comfort and Meowy was already waiting to do its part in helping you recover. The sight made your eyes water a bit.

🌸 Power had tried to cuddle with you as well, reasoning that her body heat would also help, but Aki quickly shut her down, banishing both her and Denji to the living room. To ensure they left you alone, he sat on the balcony, watching them while blowing through a pack of cigarettes. Though he'd tried not to let on, he was a bit worried about you, texting you frequently as the day drug on. He'd seen you take bullets with less trouble so it was hard to imagine what kind of pain had you doubled over in bed.

🌸 'You okay?' 'Need anything?' 'Idiots being too loud?' He'd silently check up on your throughout the day, never going to physically check unless you'd left him unanswered for longer than an hour. He wanted to let you sleep if you could.

🌸 When you felt better, you were sure to wear your mood outwardly to show them how well their caretaking had worked. You thanked them endlessly in the next few days, always willing to spend time with them to show your gratitude. Power was happy to have you at full strength again, and to once again be the center of her cat's attention. Denji was glad he would no longer be subjected to your mood swings, at least for a while. (also that Power would sneak him some of your snacks after she deemed them unnecessary due to your period ending.) Aki was just relieved to see you felt better, being the 'dad friend' of the house.

🌸 Ranking of how they handled it:

🌸 Power: 7/10

Very willing to help, just clueless of where start. She feels a kinship with you, being the only other girl in the apartment. Blood is her area of expertise, so she knows a surprising amount about what will help on a logical level, she just doesn't really get how to safely put that knowledge to practice.

🌸 Denji: 5/10

Doesn't really care as much as the others, but they're freaking out about it so it must be important! He's mainly concerned with your pain. Knowing he's seen you take some serious blows that left you with little change in demeanor, it makes him a little nervous to see you so pale and dizzy. He doesn't really know how to help, but he's not opposed to learning. He secretly does think it's pretty gross, but when Aki explains he'll have to know this stuff if he ever wants to get a girlfriend, he's a over it.

🌸 Aki: 10/10

Knows exactly what you need, thanks to his experience with the women around him, especially Himeno. She definitely overshares with him enough for him to understand what to do. He knows the fundamentals and is able to steer the other two in the right direction. Very knowledgeable and level headed, but a bit of a worrier. Will text you if you are in the bathroom too long and will remind you to pack products before you leave for work.

Let's face it, me writing for Chainsaw Man was only a matter of time, I've been cooked since the first episode.

[stevebabey]

uhm shyly comes into your inbox to give a steve idea :’)

finding him so so so pretty in that stupid dark blue polo, not being able to really look at him properly. it’s tight against his chest and stomach which makes him look delicious, wanting to be devoured really. he’s simply so pretty. worst thing is: he fucking knows it. so he’s cocky about it and teasing, it’s never relenting. he loves it and honestly so do you.

(feel free to ignore!)

trying to get my steve groove back on!!! thank u for sending something nonnie!! a lil bit of shy!reader <3 just a blurb too

Steve doesn’t know it’s a favourite of yours.

One of his polos fits his chest pretty perfectly if anyone asks your opinion. It’s that nice navy colour that looks good against his tan skin, with a bold stripe of white through the middle. A little plain but classic.

It hugs his biceps snugly and stretches ever so slightly over his chest. At the right angle, you can see the definition of his pecs and it’s awfully good at reminding you of what they look like with no shirt on at all.

The thought makes you fluster a bit.

He’s got plenty of polos but this one— this is your favourite. And he’s wearing it tonight, on Valentine’s day, and now you’re not quite sure you’ve been as slick with your wandering eyes as you hoped.

Across the booth, Steve smiles at you, his lashes kissing in the corner. He reaches up to scratch at the back of his neck and your eyes zero in on the bulge of his bicep instantly.

Steve’s smiles melts into a grin, a tad wicked.

Yeah, okay, maybe he does know it’s your favourite.

You fluster again. Something nudges at your foot under the table, right as Steve says, “What?”

He’s teasing. He definitely knows what.

“Stop,” you murmur, on the side of embarrassed. “You know what.”

Steve smiles again and drops his arm, thankfully, only to fold them and lean forward on the table. It does wonders for his arms, especially in that shirt. Damn that shirt. Damn him. He’s evil.

“Do I know what?” He pretends to muse thoughtfully.

He tilts his pretty head to the side just an inch. His eyes stay locked on you, drinking up every second your flustered reaction. You’re beautiful, even more so when you get all embarrassed about liking him.

“Steve.”

“What?”

“I will not be responsible for any further inflation of your ego, thank you very much.” You mumble it as you take a sip of your soda, eyes on the table. Why is it so terrible to have him know you were leering at him?

Steve laughs loudly. He finally slides his arms back and off the table, giving you a temporary relief.

“You’re the only one who can inflate my ego, actually.” Steve counters, his brows raising. He steals a fry off your plate and chews it slowly.

You eye him over your cup, skeptical.

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” He shrugs, swallowing his food. He takes a sip of his own milkshake, oh-so casual when he says, “Your opinion is the only one that really matters to me anyways.”

He grins across the table at you, a more mischievous shine in his eyes.

“Why do you think I picked this shirt?”

You’re equal parts mortified and enthralled at what he’s said. In your surprise, you accidentally inhale a bit of your soda and it burns as it goes down the wrong way— you cough awkwardly to clear it. Okay, less equal, more mortified now.

It’s your turn to ask. “What?”

Steve nudges your foot under the table again, teasing and flirting all in one. His pink lips curve into that grin that makes your heart flip flop— and there’s even a slight pink tinge to his cheeks. As though he’s also endeared but embarrassed by your attention.

“It’s your favourite.”

“It’s—” You splutter and for some reason, decide to lie. “No, it’s not!”

“Yes, it is!”

“No, it’s—” You pivot mid-sentence. “Who told you?”

Steve laughs again, that big loud belly-laugh where his cheeks get all chipmunk-y cos he’s grinning so hard. When he stops laughing enough to talk, he’s reaching across the table. You’re not quick enough to pretend to avoid his hand as he snags it with his own.

“Baby,” he says. “Nobody had to tell me. I could just tell.”

Somehow when he says it like that, when he calls you baby in a voice all sticky with fondness, it doesn’t seem like such a bad thing at all.

You nudge him back under the table and sip your sofa again to try think of something to say. He knows what you look like when you love something. How terrifying. How intimate.

Another sip of soda. Steve rubs his thumb over the back of your hand, content to gaze you. His view is sweet enough he must have cartoon hearts circling above his head.

You can’t think of anything to say in the end, so you just squeeze his hand and nudge his foot again — and trust that he’ll just be able to tell what you mean.

[a-hazbin-reader]

Hello!! I just loooooove how you write Alastor, this unhinged bastard 😂 anyway can I request Alastor with a lesbian, chaotic reader, who's always drooling over women (especially Alastor's friends)(read: Rosie). Toooootally not self-indulgent. Obv platonic pls!! Thank you in advance 🙇

- 🥀

Omg I love this SO MUCH

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

❌️Romantic

✅️Platonic

TW: TERRIBLE TREATMENT OF READER, reader being funny af, idk who is more unhinged, slight Mimzy X Reader, slight Rosie X Reader

Description: ☝️⬆️

First of all, he's gonna be your wingman NOT because he wants to help but because it's funny when you fail

Encourages your chaotic nature and uses it to his advantage, will not let you be caged

Someone beneath him wants to pick a fight with him??? Oh he'll give them a fight

*sets down an oversized pet carrier*

*feral animal sounds and vicious shaking*

Alastor opens the door and lets you wreak havoc on them, it's just too hilarious

All metaphorically of course

😳

They get you a toddler leash because you're always scampering off straight into trouble???

Alastor cuts it the first day Vaggie takes you out

*massive destructive explosive sounds in the distance*

"What the FUCK, ALASTOR!?"

Alastor: 😏

You're his favorite feral little ball of chaos

BACK TO BEING YOUR WINGMAN

It's amusing how quickly you change gears when it comes other women and how they enthrall you

He often gives you a handkerchief to clean up your drool, pushes your mouth shut when it's hanging open and grabs the back of your clothes to keep you upright

He does look out for you though

If Mimzy is currently in your sights then he won't let her take advantage of your attraction towards her

That greedy little thing will take you for every dime all while she flirts and toys with you

If you're feasting your eyes any of the overlords(*cough*Carmilla-*cough*Missi-*cough*Velvet-*cough*) then he'll straight up tell you no

Not him bonking your head sweetly with his staff before pushing you out of harm's way

Rosie is an exception tho

He knows she can fend you off herself if she really wants to but also that she won't really do any harm to you

Not that you're not very charming

Rosie just thinks you're adorable!! All the eager attention you're giving her! She could just eat you up!

No seriously...she could...you would taste sweet

No you're sweet

You're making her blush

And you're making her hungry

"Okay, time to go!"

So Alastor sticks around and looks out for you in those moments but he also thinks it's hilarious when you shoot your shot

Feeds you terrible pick up lines and almost dies of laughter when you actually use them

"Hey! Tie your shoes!! I don't want you falling for anyone else~"

"She actually went with that one?!"

Will properly fix your hair or clothes up before you go out on a date, he can't have you looking shabby

If you ask him for advice then he actually has some really good ideas for romance

It's just difficult to get him to give you a honest answer because it's so funny when you fumble a bad bitch

Actually, he does try to set you up with women he thinks could be good for you

"Fascinating, but have you met my good pal Y/N yet? She is QUITE a character!"

Alastor is your partner in crime and you're wingman but he's pretty terrible at both

Gah!! I hope you liked this one!! I wanted to really get the little gremlin vibes!!

[yndrgrl]

your classmate, yandere! bakugou, is deeply & utterly infatuated w/ shy, little you, & he isn't afraid to tell you just how much you occupy his mind.

fem! reader. quirkless! au. ooc! bakugou. long ass fic. soft! yandere.

a/n: based on this video (https://youtu.be/BoHAw_pEtOA), i'm literally OBSESSED w/ it. it's like, imagine being so stunning to someone that you're on their mind 24/7 like GAHHH WHAT.

warnings: slightly disturbing content, nsfw, dirty talk, stalking, swearing, very much "joe goldberg" vibes, smut asf, male masturbation, degrading, sexsexsex, gagging, praise

----

you are sweet. you are a gentle, kind soul-- so shy & reserved. to the big, bad katsuki bakugou, you are truly eye-catching. the way you didn't draw attention to yourself & yet would say the most profound things during online discussion posts made him wonder what was going on in that cute, little head of yours.

the way you're just the complete opposite of him made him crave you.

the first time he noticed you, you walked through the classroom door with your bulky headphones on that were clearly a part of your first-day-of-school outfit. enthralled was the only way he could describe how he felt. maybe shocked as well. how could someone so beautiful just walk into class?

he scoffed at his own thoughts, knowing damn well if he heard kirishima or denki say anything like that, he would've rolled his eyes. if she's beautiful, he thought, then she must have a terrible personality that i don't want to get to know.

unluckily -but also luckily- you were assigned the seat right beside him. you, with your pearly, white teeth, flashed him a courteous smile. you placed your bag on the floor, shrunk into your seat, & pulled out your binder.

what. a. nerd. katsuki laughed in his head. he could already read you like a book, he believed. a goody-two-shoes who stutters after every word, no confidence, & lives in her own little bubble, is what he deducted.

& yet he couldn't help but notice how fragrant your perfume smelled. it reminds him of a time when he was at peace, without a worry in the world. "god, how much perfume does a girl need," katsuki loudly said.

it took you a second to register that, beyond the music playing through the speakers of your headphones, there was a voice muffled. slipping your headphones down around your neck, you questioned, "i'm sorry, did you say something?"

"whatever," katsuki mumbled beside you. you felt bad, not meaning to ignore him. however, before you got the chance to apologize, the bell rang, & the professor walked to the front of the classroom. a professor that he could already tel he would hate, by the way.

that was the first day of the semester.

katsuki saw you everywhere after that. it's not like he wanted to or anything. the campus should have been big enough for the both of you, but it wasn't. he would see you at lunch with your goody-goody friends, or walking back to your dorm building with your heavy bag, or in different classes that you didn't sit with him.

one day, as the days grew slightly colder, katsuki needed to blow off some steam. he didn't know what was making him pent up. correction: he didn't want to admit that he knew why he was all pent up. since when can a person can make the great katsuki bakugou pent up?

since the first day of the semester, that's when.

bakugou, in a tight-fitting compression shirt & sweatpants, sauntered into the campus gym with his army green duffel bag slung over his shoulder. at this time of day -that being 6 in the morning- the gym was bare. only the early birds & forced athletes occupied the gym.

& apparently, so did nerds.

there you were, in all your glory. you wore black leggings that accentuated your legs. your silky, soft hair held up by a clear claw clip. your beaten up converse told the story that you are an avid gym-goer.

stationed in front of one of the only squat wracks that had a window view, the morning sunlight gazed upon your features. the soft hue made bakugou choke on his own spit. as he gawked your stature, he watched as you took sips from your water bottle. then he watched as you went to the bar, ducked under, & got ready to squat. he felt something twitch as you began your set.

"hey, bakugou~" a feminine voice spoke, causing him to almost jump. he shifted his bag so it hung in front of him. "whatcha doooing?"

"mina, what does it look like?" he scoffed.

"it looks like you were staring at-"

he cut her off. "i wasn't staring at anyone. it's just weird to see nerds like her in the gym."

"nerds like her?" she questioned, then she quickly changed the subject, "whatever, you're gonna work out with me & kiri, right?"

after that, bakugou deducted you were an anomaly. he learned how kind & attentive you are when he just so happened to read a text you sent out between you & a friend. he learned how confident you truly can be when you believe it's just you-- no eyes looking at you. he learned that your reputation was the opposite of his.

you see, bakugou was rough around the edges, to put it softly. he wore edgy clothing that made heads turn, thanks to his fashion designer parents, of course. he was proud to show off how big his muscles were & how many tattoos & scars littered his skin. he often skipped lectures, which didn't matter in the end because of his high scores on the exams.

on the other hand, you were just a beam of heaven-gate sunlight. always getting the best grades, acing tests, showing up on time, & taking pretty notes with pens, no need for pencils because you never mess up. you were also quiet, almost seeming untouchable.

the first time he caught himself truly thinking about you was late at night. he fell asleep on his dorm bed after a day of ditching classes. soon, images popped into the black void. it was a blur, colors mashing together until it was clear. there you stood, a gasp escaping your pink lips. it was as though he was watching a movie of himself.

he touched your body, scorching your skin with a red blush. he squeezed your thighs, your ass, your tits. nowhere left untouched, & you liked it. your fingers tangled themselves into his blonde tresses. you pulled him closer & begged in his ear to stick his heavy cock into your sopping pussy.

he awoke, breath heavy & a thin layer of sweat on his forehead. his dick was still incredibly hard. it was almost painful. his roommate/classmate/best buddy, kirishima already left for his early morning class & wouldn't be back until later that afternoon. katsuki knew that.

in hopes to dull the pain, he took his cock into his hand & started jerking it. though it helped, he needed something more. he took a breath, & with his other hand, he unlocked his phone & went onto instagram-- your instagram.

the most recent picture you posted was from summer. it was a college of the outfits you wore & activities you've done before fall semester. his favorite one was a candid your friend must've took. you were on the beach surrounded by people katsuki didn't care about. you were in such a scandalous swim suit that left little to the imagination. it was taken from behind so it shamelessly displayed how your swim bottoms did nothing but cover your important bits.

god, what he would do to you if he ever saw you in the swimsuit. he would bend you over, slip your bikini bottoms to the side (because he couldn't waste any time taking it off) & fuck you senseless in front of everyone. he would make you clean off his dick with that pretty, little mouth of yours. he would-

he came. he came all over his abs, & yet his cock was still throbbing. still beating for you. "shit," he whispered. as much as he hated it, katsuki was often self aware of his emotions. it's a nerdy thing to do, he knows. however, after finishing to the thought of you, he knows that he's obsessed with you, & there's nothing he can do so why fight it?

it was another day, another lecture. there sat katsuki, slumped in his seat before you even entered the class. as you did, he watched as your beautiful eyes connected with his & widen with shock. he hasn't been in class in a week, there was no big exam in class, so you were curious why he even showed up.

walking towards your desk with your eyes averted to the floor, katsuki took your figure in. he still couldn't get over how your fashion sense reflected your personality, your aura, perfectly. you seemed so comfortable, nearly confident & he loved it.

you knew he was staring; it would've been unnerving if it were anyone else. however, you found katsuki unbelievably attractive. you were flattered-- of course. what if i'm just being delusional, you wondered, denying that he was looking at you. curiosity would've gotten the better of you if you could hold eye contact though.

you sat in your seat beside him. as per usual, you took out your binder of notes, your colored pens, & placed your headphones around your neck like you do every day in this class. the professor announced that, because it is a communications class, it's important that everyone communicates. the assignment was to create a simple, few-slide presentation introducing your passion project for the rest of the year. dedication at its finest, everyone. it was an easy assignment that required nothing but a few sentences pulled out of your ass & a slides template you can download online.

as soon as he was done with his expectations for it, he let his students loose. the professor was clearly not in the mood to teach for whatever reason. you considered it a blessing because you have stacks of homework & a pile of laundry waiting for you after classes.

you pulled out your laptop you've had since forever. after signing in, you started immediately on the project. it's better to get it out of the way then to forget about it, you told yourself.

you were about to slip your headphones back on when someone questioned, "what are you doing yours on?"

it took you a second to realize it was your deskmate. it took you two to realize he was talking to you.

"um... i'm sorry?" you looked at him, confused. you didn't have any friends in this class. not that you minded.

the blonde hard head scoffed & said, "god, are you deaf? what are you doing your project about?"

"oh, um," you looked back at your computer. the blinking edit line taunting you. "i don't really know yet."

"tch, really? we're almost a month into this class," he responded. "i expected a nerd like you to be already on the last assignment for the year."

"i-i haven't really found the time, i guess."

"yeah right, don't sweat it with an explanation, nerd."

there was a silence, a silence you decided to fill.

"... what's your project about?"

"none of your damn business," he said back. that's your sign you never talk in the class again.

"hm right, just asking," you muttered, going back to brainstorming ideas you could build upon for the next year that doesn't sound too niche. or maybe you want to do something so niche that no one would know if you were right or wrong. so many options.

"i'm gonna do mine on chemical explosives."

he was talking to you again. does that mean he wants to talk with you? only you? you were looking to far into it, but you couldn't help but blush.

"oh wow, that's pretty hardcore," you responded quietly, as not to disrupt everyone else's small conversations. "what made you choose that?"

"it's a passion project; that's a passion of mine," he said as-a-matter-of-factly. he was so reserved, it only added to his bad boy charm.

you took a deep breath, deciding to -for the first time in your college life- to put yourself out there & pointed out, "the curriculum says we have to present our projects to someone of our choosing... would you want to present it to each other?"

fireworks.

you asked that & it felt as though fireworks blew up in katsuki's heart. his stoic face didn't show just how excited he was that you were the one to ask him. if you asked him to be his partner, then you've clearly been thinking of him, & if you're thinking of him, you're practically all his, &-

"yeah, whatever. you better have an interesting passion project."

that was the very first, full-blown conversation the two of you shared.

katsuki replays that moment in his head, thinks about what he should've said differently, about how he would've made a move if the two of you were alone (which he probably wouldn't have).

you ran even more rampantly in his mind. every thought crossed back to you. he constantly wondered how you were doing, what were you doing, who you were with. it drove him mad, giving him a headache. there was no medication he could take to soothe it. he found that he was only at ease when you were in sight or ear shot.

you were his clarity, & what sane person lets their clarity go? it started out small & in such a subconscious way.

katsuki was wandering the campus as he waited for his friends to get out of class when he spotted you. you must have a thing for windows because you sat on a lounge chair facing the grand window in the library. you were focused on your computer screen, so unaware of your surroundings. your brows furrowed, probably thinking about your passion project. your earbuds played whatever podcast you decided to listen to.

so, you're studying by yourself, katsuki took a mental note of that. when he did, he felt the pressure on his temples relieve. he entered the library for no other reason than you. you didn't notice him, why would you? he sat on a table behind you with his phone in his hand. katsuki's ruby eyes darted around the library before opening his camera & snapping a quick photo of you. he told himself that it would be the last time he would take a photo of you like that.

he lied to himself.

as the school year continued on, his private folder of sneaky pictures of you only grew & grew. at first, it was once every so often, but addiction kills, & he just couldn't stop.

the change that came with you was noticeable. the usually brash & unpredictable katsuki was now collected & cool. one thing that didn't change was the permanent scowl etched on his face.

his friends could see through his one-note facial expression. so it was only natural that, during a hangout in one of the dorms, they would ask, "you good?"

"yeah, why wouldn't i be?" katsuki retorted, popping a hot cheeto into his mouth while he focused on the small tv screen. katsuki wanted nothing more than to have you under his arm at the moment.

denki chimed in, "well it's just that you haven't called anyone stupid yet."

"thought you guys would be happy i didn't insult you," he rolled his eyes.

"bakubro, you can tell us anything. we've all gone through a lot together-" kirishima was cut off.

"yeah i know, there's just nothing to tell."

katsuki noticed his friends glance at each other, unconvinced. he supposes he can't blame them; he is acting so strangely afterall.

"how do i say this-" kirishima (poor man) was cut off again-- this time by mina.

"do you like someone?" she snickered. out of all the things she could've asked, that was one of the last things he thought she would ask.

"what? no! i don't like anyone," he said defensively.

"then are you lonely? i can set you up with someone," mina pulled out her phone & started pulling up a picture of said someone, "let me show you her."

"no i'm not lonely either, raccoon eyes! it's none of your damn business!" he shouted, honestly sickened at the thought of being intimate & romantic with someone who wasn't you.

"are you sure~?" mina dragged the last word out in a sing-songy voice.

"yes."

"don't be mad-"

"what the fuck did you do?"

"i already invited her," mina chuckled, quickly stuffing her phone into her back pants pocket.

"WHAT?" katsuki shouted. what would you think? would you even care?

"listen, she's a really sweet girl, & i think that-" mina's defenses were cut short by the angry hot head.

"i don't care, tell her she's uninvited or something." it really wasn't that difficult.

mina stayed silent. katsuki already knew why. as if on cue, there was a knock on the door. "i was only kidding with you, ya big baby. i just invited another girl, no date required," mina joked. she muttered right after, "hopefully you two will hit it off so you're not so grumpy."

kirishima opened the door right as bakugou yelled, "what was that, you pinkie pie bitch?" the sakura-haired girl waved him off, popping to her feet to greet her guest.

she cheered, "y/n!" mina threw her hands up & stepped towards you for a hug. katsuki's head snapped towards the door, cheeks slightly pink because he knew that you heard his outburst.

"hi, mina" you softly said, accepting the hug. you wore loungewear; you wore a black crew neck with a rib cage vinyl design & shorts. "thanks for inviting me."

"of course! let me introduce you to everyone!" she ushered you inside the dorm room, & kirishima shut the door behind you. "that one," she points to the man who shut the door, "is kirishima." he smiled his classic, toothy grin. "that's sero, right next to him is denki," she said. they both -with mouths stuffed with snacks & hands occupied with controllers- said a brief "hi."

"& that one is-"

"i know her already." katsuki had a habit of cutting off his friends. was it polite? no, not in the slightest. did he care? no, he did not. "we're classmates."

"oh, um... i didn't know you were gonna be here," you admitted, cheeks flushed in shock.

"oi! you stalking me now, nerd?"

"no, not at all!" you quickly defended. you really didn't know he was going to be sitting in front of you, he knew that.

mina stepped in, "be nice to her, bakugou! i'm trying to make new friends, remember?"

"yeah, yeah, i remember you yappin' about it," bakugou responded as he laid back onto the dorm bed. he felt your eyes on him. just your mere attention got him riled up. he didn't know how to handle it. he felt as though he were burning up. his eyes shot towards your figure, eyes locking with your deep ones. "quit staring."

"i don't mean to stare-"

"get over yourself, bakubro," kirishima joked. he chucked a throw pillow mina insisted they get to "liven the sad, jail cell of a room."

that night, katsuki couldn't help but stare. hypocrite, he knows. but he just couldn't look away. you were a magnetic force, chipping away at his self-control. even with such modest clothing, he still found himself yearning for your body, your mind, your entire being as you already had his.

time flew by fast. he could tell you were slowly getting used to the dynamic his friend group shared. your shoulders slumped throughout the evening, & you sat without your hands in your lap. denki even got you to play a round of mario kart against mina. though you didn't like being in the spotlight, you thought it was fun seeing everyone's shocked faces after you beat the self-proclaimed queen of nintendo.

the night came to a close after kirishima, denki, & sero passed out on the floor while mina slept on the bed. you fought sleep, eyelids drooping with every passing second.

"tired?" katsuki questioned. he chuckled when you suddenly turned alert.

sheepishly, you confirmed, "yeah, just a bit. i think i'm gonna head back to my dorm."

"waking up your roommate isn't very nice of you," katsuki pointed out.

"my roommate dropped out, & they haven't assigned me a new one."

"is that so?"

you stuffed your keys into your left pocket & your phone in your right before replying, "yeah, lucky me. dorm room all to myself for the semester."

"what building?" dumb question, katsuki already knew what building you lived in.

"building b, floor three," you told him. you stood up & slipped on your slides. "i really should get going. weirdos start coming out at this time."

there was a silence that followed. in katsuki's head, the gears were grinding. never has he thought so much about a decision pertaining another person in his life. would it be too pushy if he walked you back? would he be shitty if he didn't?

"fuck it," he whispered. it was so quiet in the room that you heard him clearly. "let me walk you," he spoke with more clarity.

"you really don't have to!" you didn't know he was going to offer you such a thing. "i mean it, really. i have a mace keychain-" katsuki stood up & threw on a random hoodie that was on his chair as you rambled, tiredness getting to you, "-& i have my phone so i can call the police."

"just shut up & let's go."

the walk, at first, was awkward, to say the least. the night was still, no breeze to dance with the crusting leaves. there was no one in sight, nor were there cars that zoomed past the university.

"if i would've known you were gonna walk me, i would've left earlier," you broke the silence in a hushed voice.

maybe it was because he was still awake hours past his bedtime, but katsuki responded in a softer way than expected. "did you have fun?"

"yes i did," you told him with a small smile.

"then don't worry about it."

he was so sweet to you in that moment that you couldn't help but swoon. cheeks stained pink as you averted your eyes.

katsuki stared at you through his peripheral, catching how you began to mess with the hem of your shirt.

soon enough, the two of you reached the dorm building. katsuki stood there, about to turn around when you quickly whispered, "wanna walk me up?" you gulped. you didn't even know if you could consider him a friend, & now you're practically barking orders at him; what's wrong with-

"of course."

you both reached your room. once again, in that precious voice of yours, you suggested, "you can stay the night here, if you want."

when he remained quiet (due to shock & a growing boner), you back tracked, "w-well because the extra bed is still in here, & you did me a favor so now i owe you, &-"

"i have a confession," he said, "invite me inside."

"o-oh, yeah of course," you stuttered, unlocking the door & opening it for him. you shut the door & locked it. "what do you have to tell me?"

you quickly pulled out another blanket while he sat in a chair.

katsuki experienced some things throughout his life. he experienced fights & competitions & other stupid shenanigans. he's been questioned by cops & dealt with firefighters. however, he's never felt this nervous in front of anyone. his heart leapt into his throat & used his skull as a pounding speaker. he could barely hear his own thoughts. "i don't know how you'll react."

"i won't get mad," you promised, curious. "if that's what you're worried about." you expected that, since it's confession hour or something, he'd reveal things about his past.

"i think about you, y/n." that's not what you were expecting. "i think about you all the fuckin' time."

"w-wha?" what more could you say? from behind, you heard shuffling then warmth & a looming figure. you turned around & met his eyes, trying to find if he was messing with you.

"& i can't stop thinking about you. at first, you were so annoying. with your little outfits & perfume & shit. i found you everywhere i went. i started looking out for you, wondering if you'll show your annoying, pretty face," he confessed. katsuki didn't break eye contact as he sandwiched you between him & your bed.

"you're such a goody-two-shoes. such a fuckin' nerd. but you're the only girl who's ever caught my attention, you know that? why is that?" katsuki's fingertips began to trace your clothed legs then up & under your sweatshirt. he leaned down to your ear, "are you okay with this?"

all you could do is nod, afraid that if you were to speak, it would come out as a mere squeak. he pulled away, staring into your eyes once more with his glowing ruby ones.

"good. i still don't know why it's you. maybe it's cuz of how hard you work, or how disgustingly nice you are no matter what. you're such an angel, & that must make me a demon then," he told you. you felt your entire being light on fire-- cheeks hot, ears red, & you needed to get out of your clothes. "god, let me be the one to taint you, to ruin you."

the blonde pulled you in close to his chest by wrapping his muscular arms around your frame. your hand grazed on a bulge in his pants & he jolted. "you feel that? that's how hard you get me during class."

muffled, you let out, "b-bakugou." & with those big, innocent eyes, you looked up at him.

"it's katsuki, baby."

"katsuki," you corrected yourself before continuing, "you mean all of this, r-right?" you felt tears well up & your throat tightening when you began thinking it was all a joke.

his love-drunk expression shifted into an offended one. "you think i'm sayin' all this shit cuz i think it's funny?"

"i-i don't know."

rough yet lovingly, he grabbed your chin & leaned in, noses centimeters away from each other. "this is real to me, & it will be real to you."

your gaze darted to his eyes, furrowed brows, his moonlit hair, then his lips. the moment you looked at his lips, he smashed his lips against yours. the force of his kids caused you to prop your elbows against the bed all while he snuck his knee between your legs. he pressed his thick thigh against the aching warmth.

you let out a muffled moan, & he mistakenly took that as an invite to roam your mouth with his tongue. you pushed it back with yours but, like in every other aspect besides academic, he dominated you.

the two of you ran out of air eventually. he pulled away, eyes half-lidded. "let me get you out of those clothes." he almost sounded needy, if your ears didn't deceive you.

"please, katsuki." that's all you had to say. it was like a command to him, & he was your ever loving soldier. he helped you take of your sweatshirt. gawking at your chest, you didn't wear a bra.

he scoffed with a smug smile, "sneaky girl." he saw right through you. it's true, you didn't wear a bra because of a fantasy you didn't know you were going to fulfill tonight. easy access. you wanted to give him easy access. "i knew there had to be something about you, & i figured it out."

he fondled your tits while he whispered in the crook of your neck, "you're a filthy slut, huh?" you nodded, grinding against his thigh; he chuckled before he started to mark your sensitive neck with hickeys upon hickeys.

at this point, it was getting hard to keep quiet. you knew it was only going to get harder from there. you bit your pink lip as a form of self restraint as katsuki took off his shirt & slipped off your sweatpants. you wore a lacy thong.

katsuki muttered, "oh fuck." he so badly needed you. his fingers rubbed your arousal through the fabric. he loved knowing that he made you so wet. his other hand pushed his boxers & pants down in one swift motion. katsuki needed to feel you around his poor, throbbing cock.

you might've had self restraint, but your lover didn't. he ripped the panties off of you & threw them somewhere in the dark room, not that he cared. if you were upset about it, he'll just buy you another pair he'd tear off. "fuck, y/n. i need you to tell me you want this- no you need this, need me."

you stroked his forearm with your fingers. this was so out of your comfort zone but you still managed to spit out, "i-i need you, katsu-"

there goes that habit of cutting you off again. he shoved his tip into, causing you squeal. he let you stretch, then stuck in more of his cock until you were finally well-adjusted to him. you felt the weight of cock inside you as your walls tightened around him.

you couldn't help but moan as a way of begging him to move. he demanded, "use your words, angel."

"katsuki~" you whined. his calloused hand clasped around your marked neck.

"tell me what you want, & you get to breath."

"y-you! i want you to fu-fuck me!" you choked out, eyes rolling to the back of you head as you desperately tried to breath. he let go, satisfied that you were slowly coming undone.

"such a quick learner," he praised, "i love hearing that voice of yours." you clenched around his hung prick.

he started to move, shallow humps turned into powerful, bed-rocking thrusts. he through your feet onto his shoulders while your wrists were held down to your sides with his hands. your brain turned into bimbo mush, babbling about how he needs to go harder, to keep going. katsuki happily obliged-- anything for his favorite girl.

every thrust your tits jiggled & your ass slapped against his hips. god, how was your body this divine? "such a good whore, handling my cock so good."

"k-katsuki, wanna cum- i'm cumming, i'm cumming!" you told him, scrunching your bed sheets under your grip. your mouth widened. with lightning speed, katsuki shoved something in your mouth; it was your ripped thong. the one you thought was lost in the room.

"fuck yeah," he moaned while he played with your clit. "cum all over my cock, i'm all yours." katsuki was so mean, yet so romantic. he ruined you so effortlessly & still managed to make you feel like you were a goddess amongst men.

you came. that wasn't the last time that night. he pulled out & flipped you over. "ass up, we're not done."

[planethibiscus]

Hiii !! I was wondering if you could do some jealous Yandere hcs (similar to the ones you did for until dawn) but with mouthwashing? Ty!!

JEALOUSY 🌸 MW

PRONE TO ENVY:

Jimmy

Jimmy is a vengeful and miserable man. He envies reader as they are, for who and what they are, no matter their situation. He's never satisfied, always wanting what he doesn't have. If he doesn't have you then it's all he can think about. When he finally does get you though, it still won't be enough. He'll adapt his victim complex to begin envying you instead of fully appreciating you. Oh how "good" you have it with him. You're so fucking lucky and yet you have no idea. Woe is Jimmy, the unwilling slave to your love.

Swansea

Swansea is a tired and cynical soul. He envies readers likeness. Similarly to how he is jealous of Daisuke, he is jealous of your lot in life. He wants to feel nearly as important as you are to all who you bless with your glimmering presence. He has a wife, kids, a job, he's stable. But he's miserable. Even if you're also miserable, or you don't have nearly as many accomplishments as him, there's just this special spark about you that makes you worth so much more than he could ever be.

SLIGHTLY GREEN:

Anya

Anya is exhausted and unlucky. She envies readers security. There's this way about you that comforts her and she loves it, but it's this underlying sense of safety that she assumes can only come from someone who has their shit together. Things seem to work out for you, and they should, because you're so lovely that life must give you special treatment or else it's being cruel and unjust. She just can't help but think that maybe if things in her life went half as well as they do in yours, then she'd be a better, happier person. One you'd like to be with.

Curly

Curly feels stuck. He envies readers freedom. So badly does he want to wrap you up in his arms and squeeze the knots out of your back with one powerful hug. He's just so worried that he'll scare you off and it keeps him paralysed. He wonders if you'd be terrified of your mismatched power dynamic or comforted by it. He wants you so terribly but he has a responsibility that you don't, as your captain, to make sure that you feel safe. If pushing advances on you might make you uncomfortable then he wouldn't dare. Even if it's all he can think about.

BARELY BITTER:

Daisuke

Daisuke is enthralled by the sensations of love but insecure. He holds no true jealousy towards reader, yet often finds himself wishing that he was half as cool as them. He adores being around you. Not a moment spent in your presence is a waste of time. He desperately hopes that you might feel the same, and that you don't think spending time with him is a chore. He doesn't want to bore you or annoy you at all. Your opinion of him holds him in a death grip, but he loves how it chokes him. It reminds him just how lucky he is to be perceived by you at all.

[redtsundere-writes]

Part 8: Differences

King!SukunaRyomen x Servant!FemReader

Summary: You used to be just another servant among the army of humans operating under the command of the terrible king, Sukuna Ryomen. An ordinary human who only knows how to wash, clean and cook. Until one day, he notices something in you that you hadn't seen before.

Tags: MDNI. +18. Murder. Blood. Cannibalism. Sukuna Ryomen Is The Warning Itself. Nudity. Sexual Display. Vaginal. Fingering.Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst.

Word Count: 3856 words.

Beginning. | ← Previous | Next →

Sukuna hates mornings. Birds chirping, getting out of bed heavily and watching the sun conquer the skies are things he despises with all his heart. Just a curse that lives in a gigantic dark castle in order to have to deal as little as possible with sunlight. The windows with bloody roses, besides serving as decoration, have specific colors to mitigate the intense day to day light. Sukuna rubbed his eyes as he made his way to the dining room for breakfast at a slow pace as he was just waking up. As he approached the door, he heard the servants encouraging themselves to work faster. 

“Good morning, my king,” the servants said in unison once the great conqueror of their lands entered the room. 

The table was set as it was every morning. The tableware was elegantly placed in front of each seat, the candles were symmetrically spaced between the empty spaces and a subtle lemon scent could be perceived from how clean everything was. The servants lined up against the perimeter of the room as usual as they heard the king approaching. Sukuna inspected the faces he saw each morning, making sure no one was missing. It was strange not to see you in your usual place. Mrs. Inoue had not seen you at breakfast time or in the kitchen. She was so worried that she had already thought the worst. She wanted to ask the king about your whereabouts or the confirmation of your sudden death, but she didn't have the courage to do so.

“Did you inform her that she must have breakfast with me?” Sukuna asked Uraume as soon as he sat down at the head of the table. 

“Yes, my king, she must be getting ready,” Uraume answered as soon as one of the servants served him his breakfast: fried eggs and shredded meat, human, of course. 

The door opened again, interrupting the king's first bite. Finally, you have arrived. Your figure was wrapped in a beautiful dress that had been made especially for you. A pair of braids framed your face while a crystal tiara rested gently on your head. Your neck and wrists were adorned with precious jewelry that cost more than your old cabin in the countryside. Even though you had no royal blood, you felt like the princesses you used to see at balls. Sukuna was so used to seeing you in your uniform that he dropped his fork in shock. 

“Good morning, everyone,” you greeted with a small bow before entering the room. 

All the servants looked at you in shock for dressing so extravagantly. It was the first time you felt so many eyes on you, completely exposed even though you were clothed from head to toe. You just smiled and made your way to your new seat, the right side of the king. Mrs. Inoue was on the verge of tears of happiness to see that you were not dead and better than ever. 

“Good morning, my king.” You bowed respectfully to him. Mrs. Inoue overtook another servant to pull your chair, the perfect excuse to approach you. 

“Are you all right?” She whispered in your ear. You just nodded as you took a seat. 

Sukuna was still enthralled with your extreme change in appearance. He had known you as an ordinary girl in a hideous brown dress full of dirt that hid your good attributes. Now you stood before him in a beautiful purple dress with gold flowers decorating your chest and flowing down to the skirt. The sleeves that subtly rested on your arms allowed him the exposed skin of your shoulders that used to be covered by the uniform. Since you always wore a white scarf, I had never noticed your pretty hair color. You were a diamond in the rough that just needed to be polished to shine among the stars. Quickly, you noticed that Sukuna was just looking at you with his lips parted as if he wanted to say something. 

“Is something wrong?” you asked, confused. 

Sukuna quickly returned to his reality, picking up his fork as if nothing had happened. He coughed a couple of times before looking away so it wouldn't show that he loved your new look. His heart was beating like crazy and he didn't know how to make it stop. 

“That color doesn't go with your skin tone,” he complained, pretending that was the reason why he was looking at you so intently. 

“Do you think so?” You asked while looking at the contrast between the dress and your skin tone. 

It had been a long time since you had worn a dress as beautiful as that one. I repeat, you had never worn a dress as beautiful as that one. Your mother used to buy dresses for you, but they were a solid color and not the best material, as she bought the ones that were within her financial means. You had forgotten how tedious it was to wear a corset so tight to the body and heels that hurt your feet, but it was nice to pass in front of the mirrors and see something nice on the other side. 

A servant soon arrived to serve you a breakfast similar to Sukuna's, but with mutton instead of human flesh. You bit into it, happy to be eating something other than porridge after a long time. You missed eating meat after the time Sukuna invited you to eat with him for the second time. You were very excited that from now on you would always eat with him. 

“Your tutor is coming today," Sukuna informed you. 

“My tutor?” You asked confused. 

“He will make sure you have the necessary intellectual tools to be my wife and the mother of my future heir. He will teach you literature, mathematics, health and give you piano lessons,” he explained before drinking from his wine glass. 

That last thing got you very excited. You couldn't wait to learn to play like the professionals. In your head, you could already imagine all the songs you would learn. The king could be a heartless being, but sometimes he was generous. 

“He will arrive in the afternoon for you to welcome him, since he will be living here from today on,” he ordered before continuing eating. “You better not waste his time.” 

“I will try my best to be the best student.” You smiled before continuing to eat. That only made Sukuna's heart flutter even more. "Is my heart failing me already?" He asked himself. 

The sun was still struggling against the cloudy sky so that it could stand out among the heavy clouds. You waited patiently for the arrival of the tutor Sukuna had arranged for you as he had instructed. You paced back and forth as you could not contain your curiosity as to who this mysterious teacher would be. Your heels echoed against the old concrete beneath your feet as you told Mrs. Inoue what had happened the night before. 

“He proposed to you?!” Mrs. Inoue exclaimed in astonishment. 

“I still don't believe it,” you commented while shaking your head. 

“And did you really accept?” She asked you as you stopped next to her to answer. 

“What was I supposed to say? No?” You asked before following the sway of your steps. 

“No, well, yes..." The old commented when the logic hit her full on. “At least you will be able to live better than the rest of us," she said, trying to look on the bright side. 

“But what if he finds out I don't have what it takes? He'll be disappointed! He'll kill me!” 

You had told Mrs. Inoue everything except about the last test your king had imposed on you. Because of that deranged test, you hadn't been able to sleep the night before. Although you could now rest in a bed far more comfortable than the straw bed in the dungeon, you had to think about how to ensure that you would continue to sleep in it. You could only remember the words of your king in an infinite loop. 

"You must kill one of your race." 

"One of your race." 

"Of your race."

The king was smart. If he let you kill whoever you wanted, he knew you would get the foolish idea of killing a curse, a being that preys on humans and eats them with no thought for their suffering. He couldn't risk you getting hurt trying. He knew you didn't yet have what it takes to do it. Besides you had no idea how to kill them, curses are more agile and cruel than any human. It wouldn't hesitate two seconds to devour you, even if it meant betraying its king.

“Don't be silly, girl, you have everything it takes to be a real queen,” Mrs. Inoue scolded you for being so pessimistic, something rare in you. “Don't let yourself be influenced by the pressure.” 

“I'm a human, how can I be at his level?” You complained as you approached her again. 

“It's true. You may never be at his level, but he won't be at yours either,” the old said before taking your hands. 

“What is she talking about?” You arched your eyebrow in confusion. 

“The king may be very intelligent and powerful, but he will never be as kind and elegant as you are.” That comparison made your mind relax. “What I mean is that you will never be like the king because he could never be like you. You have your own strengths, use them to your advantage and you'll be fine, girl. Just like you always have.”

A smile appeared on your face and you did not hesitate to hug her tightly at her touching words. You closed your eyes as you leaned against her plush shoulder. It was just what you needed to hear, a loving and reasonable voice to quiet your mother's paranoid cries in the back of your mind. Mrs. Inoue gave you a couple of pats on the back for extra moral support. 

“You'll be fine, child. We've survived everything and we'll continue to do so.” 

You genuinely hoped that she would continue to support you when the time came that you had to kill someone. So far your only plan was to kill the oldest servant in the castle in the most peaceful way possible. The first and only idea was to use poison. The most complicated part would be to take off his head to give it to the king and live forever with the guilt of killing an innocent, but that was a concern for another time. 

The gigantic gate descended along with the sound of heavy chains, straining to form the bridge that connected to the castle. The bars opened to let in a black carriage, one of the many that King Sukuna had. The two jet-haired horses paraded across the parade ground to the entrance. Behind the imposing horses, stood the coachman, a slender curse wearing an elegant suit and top hat. 

“That must be the tutor,” You murmured to your friend once you pulled away from the embrace. 

The coachman took care of parking the carriage in front of you. He jumped down from his post to open the passenger door. From inside, a tall man with long black hair emerged wearing a light colored rakusu with checkered patterns and underneath a yukata with black bloomers. Your nerves went away once they saw a human face instead of a cursed one. He was a really attractive man with captivating black eyes, sharp features and thin eyebrows. The only odd thing was the stitching that adorned his forehead. 

“Welcome to our noble lands.” You bowed next to what used to be your co-worker. 

“You must be the lady I will be in charge of, aren't you?” He asked you, beaming a beautiful smile. 

"He is so charming," you thought in surprise. In all your years of life, you had never seen such a beautiful man as him. Your heart was pounding with nervousness as soon as he approached you. Gently, he reached under your chin to cup your face for a closer look. You blushed immediately and tried to instinctively take a step back, but his fingers flexed on the back of your neck to keep you from moving and looking into his eyes. 

“You are prettier than King Sukuna described you in his letters. It will be a pleasure to work for you, Miss.” He said with a smile that looked sincere, you reciprocated amidst your nerves. 

“Let me show you around, sir…”

“Master Kenjaku,” he answered before releasing you to take your arm and entwine it with his. “Lead our way, miss.” He asked you, to which you complacently obeyed. 

After a long tour of all the common areas and where his new room would be so he could settle in after the long trip, Kenjaku decided it would be a good idea to start classes as soon as possible. You took him to the game room where the gigantic and endless library was located. 

“I see our king likes to read,” he said, scanning the place in awe. “Do you?” he asked you directly. 

“I like reading fairy tales. It's the only thing I can read, everything else I find complicated to understand.” You answered honestly. 

“Don't worry. We are all born knowing nothing, that's why there are people like me who are in charge of guiding others towards the understanding of things, so that later they can guide other people.” He answered with a philosophical air as he glimpsed a green chalkboard that was kept between two bookcases. “Since we'll be seeing each other a lot from today on, I want to start with the basics,” he said as he took it out next to a small flask with chalk. 

“The king told me you would teach me many things, what exactly are the basics?” You asked him before taking a seat in front of one of the work tables. 

“I see that you have a curious mind. That is fundamental for learning, we are on the right track,” he commented with a satisfied smirk. “Your primary job is to be on par with the king. What does that mean? That you must understand everything he tells you the first time he says it. For that, there are things you must understand.” Kenjaku took one of the chalkboards and wrote the word Jujutsu on it. “This world is made up of humans and curses, right?”

“Right.” 

“What many people don't know is that there are three types of humans: monkeys, people with vision and sorcerers,” he explained as he drew three stick people. “The monkeys are the people who can't see the curses and think they are ghosts or evil spirits. The people with vision are those who can see curses, like you. And finally there are the sorcerers, the people who eradicate curses using Jujutsu.” He pointed to the word he had written at the beginning. 

“Jujutsu?” You read with difficulty, familiarizing yourself with the word. 

“You see, we all have a soul and that soul radiates energy. Sorcerers radiate what is considered cursed energy. Which allows wizards to have their powers and..." Geto stopped when he saw your surprised face. “Is something wrong?” 

“Sorcerers? There are a lot of those?” you asked. 

Sorcerers used to be a myth among humans in the Sukuna kingdom. Your father used to tell you and your sisters that there used to be people with extraordinary powers who were in charge of guarding humans from curses, but they were slaughtered by King Sukuna so he could spread his reign of terror and have everyone under his control as flesh and blood puppets. Many said that these magical people would return, but they have never been present. 

“That's a lie, Dad.” Your sister, Yorozu, scolded your father before eating a boiled potato in her mouth. 

Not letting it cool enough, she bit into it and burned her tongue. You shook your head in disappointment and passed him a glass of water. Yorozu was always like that. Careless, clumsy and rebellious. She always used to get into trouble when she didn't have to, but she was the most spoiled in the house being the prettiest of the daughters. Your parents saw her as the perfect opportunity to improve the family economy.

“I'm serious! My great-great-grandfather used to be a very powerful sorcerer,” her father said, offended that they didn't believe him. 

The whole family was gathered around the table like every dinner. When your father was alive, there was always bread, potatoes, wine and cheese on the table. Your mother would eat quietly while observing the manners of each of her daughters. Starting with you, you always ate with your back straight and took the utensils with care. 

Yorozu ate the first thing in front of her and whatever she felt like eating quickly. Mimiko and Nanako, being twins, acted similarly, eating slowly while listening to the conversation attentively. At the end of the day, they were all good girls, but you could tell how different they were. 

“I wish we had powers, so we could kill all the curses that get in our way," Mimiko commented bravely. 

“And why don't we have powers, daddy?” Nanako asked, disappointed. 

“I don't know, honey,” Her father answered honestly. “All I know is that we were born blessed with good health and good spirits.” 

“There are many.” Kenjaku replied, bringing you back to the present. “There are so many that there are kingdoms full of them.”

“Really?” You asked, still surprised. "And I thought Uraume was unique." 

“The Gojo kingdom is a good example. The royal family is the largest family of sorcerers in existence and harbors secrets as old as life itself.” Kenjaku answered. 

“And how does one know one has powers?” you asked curiously. 

“They usually manifest themselves at five or six years of age. As a defense response of the body to a life or death situation.” Kenjaku explained. 

You leaned back against the chair with a hopeless expression. You didn't stand a chance. You had never noticed any kind of power in yourself. That disappointed you, but you remembered Mrs. Inoue's words of encouragement. "You have your strengths, use them to your advantage and you'll be fine, child." Kenjaku quickly noticed your downcast face and approached you. 

"Don't worry, I will see to it that you become a powerful queen with or without powers. I may be in the service of King Sukuna, but you will always have the last word,” he promised you. 

All your life you had always been someone's subordinate. Since you were born, you obeyed your parents above all things. You always cared for your sisters before you cared for yourself. Now, you were under the total control of the most terrifying curse of all time. It was nice to hear that someone was at your service and would help you in everything you needed. You were sure that Kenjaku would be the best ally you could ever ask for. You were not going to waste his kindness. 

Sukuna read the biweekly reports from Uraume. A document that summarized the shortcomings around the castle, the attitude of the curses and the behavior of the servants. He carefully read every word until I saw your name on the paper. Hiser heart skipped a beat again as he remembered how pretty you looked that morning. He put the document aside to feel his own confused pulse. It didn't hurt, but it was throbbing harder than usual. "I should ask Kenjaku for a second opinion," he thought, worried about his own health. 

Sukuna doesn't believe in love. He has read theories about it and heard humans talk about it before, but he has never experienced it. Therefore, he came to the conclusion that it does not exist. It must be an invention of humans to cope with the idea of being tied for life to someone by the bond of marriage. Why don't humans just marry a person who gives them prosperity and that's it? That was the most logical thing to do, according to our king Sukuna. Rats just like to complicate their lives. 

Someone knocked on the door of his office. It was Kenjaku, the guy he wanted to see. He let him in while he put away the documents he had not yet read in a drawer. The last time they had seen each other had been in the kingdom of Jogo when he conquered their lands. Kenjaku surrendered completely to him and betrayed his king to now serve him. Sukuna hated traitors, but this one had qualities that he could use to his advantage. One of them was his vast knowledge in medicine and botanics. 

“I'm sorry I was late in greeting you, your majesty. I found the young lady so interesting that I felt the need to start the lessons as soon as possible. I can see why you chose her to become your wife.” Kenjaku greeted him with a bow. 

“Did you do what I asked you to do?” Sukuna asked, getting straight to the point. He still had things to do and he didn't want to waste time in formalities. 

“I started with the investigation, but you must understand that investigating the inter-species birth between humans and curses requires time and patience,” the lesser curse answered honestly. 

A month ago, Sukuna sent a letter to Kenjaku instructing him to investigate whether it was possible for a woman to conceive a baby from a curse. Kenjaku, despite his confusion at the strange task, set to work. Curses are born thanks to cursed energy, they are the direct product of the intense emotions that humans manifest. They manifest randomly, so it is difficult to create one from scratch. What Sukuna was asking was nearly impossible, but it was worth a try. Now that he knew the reason why he was interested in the subject, it all made sense. He wanted to make sure he left offspring and that the mother would be okay during the process. 

“I need you to hurry," Sukuna ordered. 

“I will do my best.” Kenjaku answered placidly. 

“Good.” Sukuna mused. “Come closer and check my pulse.” He ordered.  

“Does your chest hurt?” The subordinate asked. 

“No, but since the morning I feel like it's getting lumpy out of nowhere.” 

Kenjaku pressed two of his fingers against Sukuna's neck while taking the time to calculate his heartbeat. Although his heart was pounding, there was nothing out of the ordinary. He had a healthy pulse. 

“It sounds good. There's nothing to worry about.” Kenjaku smiled reassuringly. 

“Good. You can go now. I am very busy.” Sukuna asked him after receiving the conclusion of a connoisseur on the subject. 

Kenjaku bowed before retiring. The king took out again the documents he was working on. He scanned the bi-weekly report to return to where he had left off. Seeing your name, his heart fluttered again. Sukuna put the document aside with an annoyed sigh to clutch his chest. 

“Fucking liar.” He cursed Kenjaku under his breath. 

Next →

Open fanfic commissions!

Masterlist.

[brotherwtf]

this has been done by every fandom on earth but clegan little mermaid au (kinda, not really) bcs I'm soft for them

Gale who's a mermaid who has a terrible relationship with his father, he wants to be on land, even better he wants to be in the sky, especially when he sees planes flying overhead and he wishes so bad he could be up where they are, they seem so free up there

his father refuses, says his place is in the water, where it's safe, being on land and being in the sky is dangerous, so he doesn't allow Gale to even entertain the idea of ever leaving the water

one day, there's a plane that crashes in the water and Gale sneaks away from his family to check it out and finds a pilot strapped into the seat, unconscious, and Gale's fucking mesmerized. The pilot is beautiful, thick brown curls and a mustache over pink lips, but most of all he knows how to fly, so he rescues him from the downed plane and swims him back to land

he stays with the pilot until he's conscious, doesn't care that he'll see him with his tail and everything, he just desperately wants to know what it's like up in the air

the pilot, of course, freaks out when he sees Gale, freaks out even more because he's alive, he shouldn't be alive, his plane crashed, but Gale slowly explains that he saved him from the wreckage and he's going to be okay

once the pilot has calmed down, he introduces himself as Bucky, a major in the air force. When Gale introduces himself, Bucky shakes his head

"nah, you look exactly like my friend Buck in Manitowoc," and even despite Gale's protests, Bucky doesn't let the nickname go

Bucky's absolutely enthralled by Gale, and the same is true for Gale, and the spend the rest of the day talking. When the sun starts to set, Bucky grabs Gale's wrist and desperately asks if he'll get to see him again

and that makes Gale's heart flutter in a way he doesn't quite understand, so he agrees, tells him to meet at the little cove in the morning, and Bucky's ecstatic

so they do that, every morning they meet at the rocky cove where Gale dragged Bucky and they spend hours talking, even when Bucky claims he should probably be finding an air base and getting back into combat

but Gale begs Bucky to tell him what it's like in the sky, listening intently as Bucky describes it as the most beautiful thing he's ever witnessed, and he has Gale tell him what it's like down in the ocean, and while Gale doesn't seem as enthusiastic Bucky is always so intrigued

Gale realizes he's falling in love with Bucky, falls in love with his easy smile and bright laughter, they way Bucky wholeheartedly smiles at him when he talks

they kiss one evening while the suns setting, when Bucky's steel blue eyes twinkle so prettily in the setting sun and Gale just can't help himself, leans in to press a sweet kiss against his lips, half expects Bucky to get up and bolt, but he just presses in further, wrapping an arm around Gales waist to bring him closer

something something Gale begs his father to be turned human so he can be with Bucky, and while Gale's father is a cruel and terrible person, he realizes this might be good so he can keep his power, smiles evilly when he turns Gale human, doesn't even know that he's fulfilling every single one of Gale's wishes

Gale literally jumps into John's arms, as much as he can with his new legs, kissing him until he's breathless, and he's just so damn happy it hurts him

John takes Gale flying as soon as he can, and Gale couldn't be happier than here in the sky with his love

[johnwickb1tsch]

The Girl Next Door - V

A Constantine x FemVampire!Reader (feat John Wick!) fic based on this imagine. all chapters warnings: nsfw, blood, biting, violence, divider by animatedglittergraphics

5.  fight the good fight

When you wake again you are bouncing, bent in half slung over a man’s shoulder; the vampire hunter’s. You can tell from the intoxicating scent of his cologne, his sweat, his blood–him. It’s like catnip to you, and for a moment you just want to go back to sleep, and let him take you wherever he’s taking you. 

That’s a very bad idea, of course, and good on you for recognizing it through the haze of bloodloss and whatever other hold he has over you. You still do not understand what he is, or why he has such power over you. 

From what little you can see, it seems like you’re in a dark alley. There are sirens in the distance–the aftermath of the massacre in the club, you presume. He has got you far away. How long have you been out?

You struggle again, managing to worm free and get down, before the vampire hunter pins you against the wall of the building. “Stop that, you’ll hurt yourself,” he grouses, annoyed. He seems in much better shape than before, having stolen your blood. You, on the other hand, feel so weak you can barely stand. 

“Let go. Please let me go.” 

You must sound so pathetic that even this brutal killer softens for you. His grip changes slightly, holding you up against the wall by your waist. You have no delusions, however, that that can change in an instant. Yet…he’s looking at you with those sad dark eyes, like a man drowning. Even with the splatter of blood across his face and the crust of it dried in his long dark hair–he’s so handsome it hurts, and your fingers clench in his jacket, torn between pulling him closer and pushing him away. 

“I’m not going to hurt you, vampling. I saved you.” 

“You…ate me!” 

There is a tick at the corner of his well-formed mouth, betraying his amusement. 

“I took too much. Here, have some back.” He unbuttons his shirt further at the throat to display the strong column of his neck. Your vision zeroes on his jumping pulse like a laser sight, and you notice that intoxicating scent engulfing you again. It’s warm spices and your favorite flowers and pure man–it’s so good that you want to mold yourself to him and never let go. 

It’s a good trick, for a vampire hunter, and at least you are conscious enough to know now that it is a trick. 

“Stop that,” you scold, squeezing your eyes shut as you try to fight it.  

“I can’t help it,” he answers, his voice gone low in a way that shuts down your brain and skips straight your loins. He leans closer, his forehead nearly touching yours, engulfing you with the pure size of him and his hair swinging down to brush your face–he also smells like blood, which does not help you at all. “It’s…you. It’s us.”

“No,” you answer, mostly because you're afraid of someone having that kind of control over you, again. 

“It’s…rare,” he admits. “Who are you?”

“No one,” you insist. “I’m just a girl…who’s really good at being in the wrong place at the wrong time.” And really good at keeping a soft spot for the wrong man. You cannot stop yourself from thinking about John in that moment, and how just one night with him flung you into this strange and terrible supernatural world. Would you change it, if you could? Will there ever come a time, when the thought of him does not feel like talons digging your heart out of your chest? 

“Hmm. Maybe.” He lifts his hand to his throat, and you watch as his fingernails lengthen to sharp points, perfect for breaking his own skin in one neat, bloody line. “Here, milaya. My apology to you.” 

That ruby welling of his life’s essence smells marvelous, and you want to seal your mouth on it more than you’ve wanted anything in a good long while. Somehow, you manage to shake your head, even if minutely. “No, you’ll…enthrall me again or something. I don’t trust you.” 

He sighs. 

“I admit that I want you,” he acknowledges reluctantly. “But you need blood.”

“Yes. Let me go, and I’ll go get some. Again.” It annoys you in that moment that the efforts of your hunt all went to this man’s benefit. Dhampiro, don Juan had called him. Dhampir, you translate to English. Not human, by his own admission. 

Obviously.

He smirks a little down at you. “I saw you feed earlier. Why did you pick him?”

“He killed his wife.” 

“Ah. You like to play jury and executioner.”

“I didn’t kill him.” 

“You’ve killed others though. You’re sloppy about it too.” 

“Am not.” 

He laughs at you, a short, amused, huff, which is as good as an ‘are so’.

“What do you care?” 

“The High Table might start to care, if you make a big enough spectacle of yourself. Naughty little vampires get a visit from the Boogeyman, you know. You aren’t supposed to draw attention. There are rules.” 

“I don’t…know what any of that means,” you’re loathe to admit. 

There’s so much John Constantine could have chosen to fill you in on. Maybe he thought you’d figure it out on your own. Or maybe…he has as much trouble thinking straight around you, as you do him. If he felt a fraction of what you did, when this man before you took you–it’s no wonder you scared John off. Surrendering to that would not be easy for a man like John Constantine. 

“I’d say you need a coven to teach you, but considering what I’m going to do to the locals here…you’d better stick with me.”

“You’re…going to kill them all?” you ask, more intrigued than horrified by the thought. 

“Yes.” There is zero doubt in this man that he can do it, too. After what you saw…you guess you agree with him. Constantine is dangerous, but he could never wreak the sort of massacre this man unleashed in the club. 

And here you are, in his grasp. Well done. 

“Why?”

“Don Juan’s scheming to overthrow the High Table. They don’t like that.” 

“Wait, wait.” A hunger pang washes through you, and you grip his jacket a little harder, your knees weak. The blood dripping down his beautiful throat smells so good, but you realize this might be your chance to finally get some answers. “Who the fuck are the High Table?” 

“How do you not know that?”

“Why does everyone always ask me that instead of just fucking telling me the answer?” you snipe, practically vibrating with frustration. 

“You really have been so alone this whole time?” he asks, his dark eyes inexplicably softening for you. He looks down at you, cupping the side of your face with a paw of a hand, stroking your cheek with his thumb. Maybe it just feels good to be handled like you are something precious, rather than like a farm animal. Or maybe…you are losing your mind, but you have to close your eyes again, shielding yourself from the weight of that blackhole gaze.

“Yes.” You’re not proud of the way your voice cracks as you utter that one word. You hate it, that you think of John, and how he said he’d help you, but mostly he just disappeared on you. You know he has his own life, and his own problems…but he practically abandoned you, all while living right next door. 

It was a good trick, truth be told.  

“That’s a hard way to live. I would know.” His thumb is still stroking your cheek, and it feels so good, and you know this is madness. It has to be a trick. Everything is a fucking trick, with these guys. And yet…it’s as though you can feel this man’s loneliness, the weight of his solitude pressing down upon you, every time you look into his eyes. 

Maybe it’s because he kills everyone, you remind yourself, marveling at your unflagging ability to empathize with the most unavailable men you can find. 

“The High Table?” you prompt again through gritted teeth, trying not to give in to the urge to pull him close, to hide in the bend of his neck, to lose yourself in the heady taste of him and forget everything else. 

“They rule the Underworld. You. Me. Everything that goes bump in the night answers to Them.” He tells you this without condescension, and you could kiss him for that alone. 

“Demons too?”

“No, they’re Hell’s problem. Usually.”

“Then…the High Table are vampires?”

“Vampires. Weres. Sirens. Fey.” He tilts his head in thought. “I’m sure I’m missing something.”   

You nod, trying to digest this information while you are so starved you can hardly think. He’s named more things you didn’t even know existed, but you shouldn’t be surprised at this point. But then…if demons are Hell’s purview, what system of belief do the rest of them answer to? The magnitude of this question makes your head spin. Finding out that the Christian God was real was wild enough for you. What about the rest? 

“Wait…does this mean…all the Gods are real?”

Your leap of logic to the biggest existential question known to man seems to amuse him, the corner of his mouth curling for you. “Malyshka,” he scolds you softly. “You really want to discuss this here? Come on.”

He seems to think he’s taking you somewhere, but you resist again, bracing against the wall.   

“I’d rather…go home, if it’s the same to you.” you admit, winning yourself a tired sigh.

“I can’t…let you do that yet.” 

“Why not?”  

Again, he strokes your face with that big hand, and you feel as though he’s looking into your very soul. 

“You remind me of someone I once knew,” he admits. “A long time ago.”

Someone he lost, you infer from the longing that is woven into those words. Why does that make your heart ache for him?

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “But whoever she was…I’m not her.”

“No,” he agrees, but he tilts his head to examine you, like you are an amoeba under a microscope.  

“But the universe moves in circles, and something is happening here.” He inhales, and you see a flash of that eerie electric blue in his irises again. “I have to know what it is.”

Whatever you meant to say in answer is swallowed up by his mouth lowering to yours, a kiss that is somehow demanding and languorously slow. He claims your lips for his own, holding you to him as his tongue slides into your mouth, teasing you like you’ve done this a thousand times before. Maybe you don’t need to breathe, but he leaves you breathless all the same, overwhelmed by that pheromone scent and his hands on you, one paw at the back of your head guiding your mouth to his neck. He tastes like a miracle, strong and heady and so delicious as you drink him down mouthful by mouthful. His blood is so potent you feel your strength begin to return just from the first swallow, and the rest is pure high. 

You start to see some things, about this man whose blood is in your mouth. You see flashes of a forbidding dark forest, and fighting, so much fighting. A quaint little cottage in the woods, so humble, so warm. There is a woman whose touch feels like sunshine. ‘Yelena,’ he calls her. And with her hands in his hair and a smile on her lips she calls him…

“Jardani?”

 He jerks back to look at you with haunted eyes, pinning you to the wall with his big hand spanning your chest. Drunk on the want of him, you whine like a thwarted kitten, trying to return to the bloody font of his throat. He searches your face as though desperate for the answer to some crucial riddle written upon your features. “How…?” But does not give you the chance to answer, his mouth crashing over yours again with a new ardor, gripping you so hard that even you will have bruises. 

You cannot think. 

There is only the taste of him, intoxicating and wonderful and you cannot stop yourself from pulling at his clothes, holding him to you. You want to climb him, devour him, be inside him, as surely as his lightning-charged blood is raging through you. 

“Fuck,” you hiss when at last you manage to pull away, not for breath but just a break from this madness. What the fuck is he doing to you?

“Yeah?” he asks, seemingly with all seriousness, hoisting you against the wall with hands on your thighs like you weigh nothing at all. Your legs wrap around his waist out of instinct; he pins you with his hips, his manhood rock hard against your center. He grinds against you, his lips on your neck again, teasing open the wound he left earlier, and you can’t help but moan, soaking wet and aching to be filled. In that moment you don’t care that you’re in a dirty alley with a man you don’t even know. You know the heart of him, and right now you would swear unequivocally that he belonged to you. 

“Wow. You High Table assholes sure know how to treat a lady.”

The sound of that familiar voice makes you freeze, some small modicum of sanity returning to you. 

Your would-be lover is less civil, snarling at the newcomer in the alley. “Not a good time, Constantine.” 

“No time like the present, Wick. Put her down.”

With his attention fixed somewhere else, some modicum of clearer thought returns to you. Your first stop is pure mortification. 

There is John, standing tall with his legs spread in his usual black and white suit, and to his shoulder he is holding a large, golden…cross gun? Like he totally intends to use it if he has to. 

The sight of him makes your heart ache with longing. No tricks. No magic. You just…adore him, even while wrapped up in another man’s arms, and you realize you are as hopeless as you are smitten. That connection between you glows again. You feel it in your chest, and it helps clear the lustful ardor that a moment ago gripped you so completely.

Dhampir magic is some scary shit.

The vampire hunter–Jardani?–Wick?–looks at you as though you’ve said something out loud. His eyes narrow; he doesn’t seem to like it one bit. He does put you down, but holds you in front of him like a shield, his big hand at your throat. 

“Never thought the John Constantine would turn vampire’s familiar. Who knew?” taunts the dhampir behind you. 

“What?”

 Both men ignore your question, fixed on each other in this standoff. 

“Call it what you want,” Constantine answers stonily. “I’m the one holding the gun. Let her go.” 

“I don’t want to.”

“I see that. Nice, you always gotta use your Blood Lure to get laid?” 

“Hardly. Your little vampling here is a special girl.” 

“Yeah. But she doesn’t belong to you, Wick, so let her go.” 

“You love her?” 

Wide eyed, you can’t stop yourself from fixating on John at that question, gone grave-still in Wick’s unrelenting grasp. 

In answer, John mostly just grinds his teeth, his lower jaw jutting. “It’s complicated,” he finally admits, and though that’s never a good answer from a man, your treacherous undead heart still skips a beat.  

“I think she deserves better than it’s complicated.”

“Not from you, half breed. Let her go.” 

You feel Wick tense behind you, and you remember the absolute whirlwind of carnage he caused in the club a few blocks away, that supernatural berzerker rage that mowed down vampire after vampire. John is formidable, but you can’t help but think no one can stand up to that and live. “Please,” you say, appealing to the wall of a man behind you. “Please, just let us go.”

Wick growls deep in his chest–a chilling, primal sound that resonates through you, your every hair standing on end. 

His grip upon you flexes, as though his physical being abhors the very idea of it. You’re not really afraid for yourself now. You’re afraid for John, and unbidden you start to cry those bloody tears. “I love him,” you say in the most hushed whisper you can muster, and the moment it leaves your lips you know it’s true, and maybe it has been true since the night you made that grouchy man dinner, and he made you feel like you mattered to someone in this big mean city. “Please don’t hurt him.”

Somehow, this is the thing that seems to call this dangerous man down. For a moment his grip around your waist tightens; he inhales your scent deeply, his nose behind your ear sending a warm thrill down your spine. He speaks low, though you think John can probably hear him anyway. “He doesn’t look good, vampling. I won’t have to wait long for you.” 

Suddenly, he’s just gone. Disappeared into the shadows, as though he is made of night. 

Unsupported, you stumble, and fall right on your butt. 

John looks around warily with the strange gun at the ready, sweeping the alley like he can’t believe the dhampir had actually retreated. Slowly he crosses to you, impossibly tall from your vantage of the ground. He seemingly reluctantly offers you a hand. “You ok?” 

“No,” you answer truthfully, taking his hand, the warm strength of his grip a welcome boon. When he pulls you to your feet you want more than anything to just be in his arms. 

But all he offers you is a hard stare, and a brusque, “Come on,” as he pulls you towards the other end of the alley. 

It’s complicated, he’d said.  

Why does that have to feel right then like he hates your guts?

You’re getting tired of crying for this man. You remind yourself of this as the ball of despair rises in your throat and your eyes sting like mace. 

Did he hear you? If he heard your heartfelt confession to the dhampir, even if it saved his life…he did not like it at all. 

[kiame-sama]

Sweet Death- (Yandere!Phantom Troupe x Autistic!Chubby!Reader)

Random idea I had and felt like writing down. Tell me if y'all want more from this vein and what direction you think it should take.

Warnings; yandere behavior, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, troupe tries to cause a lot of mischief, intense masking, fem reader (tell me if y'all want a male reader or non-binary), creepy creature appearance,

~~~~~~~~

"Wait, so you PAID for them?"

"Yeah."

"But, why?"

"Piss off! Lady was nice."

Feitan snapped in his usual short manner of speaking, a glare on his face as Pakunoda bothered him. They had business in the airport and Feitan stopped to swipe some sweets. What they didn't expect was that Feitan actually paid for the food he got and was defending his uncharacteristic behavior.

Feitan was the most easily irritated, so it came as a surprise that whomever he interacted with did not anger him. What was even more of a surprise was that Feitan actually seemed to be behaving in a polite way to someone. The only one Feitan was polite to- and they use the term loosely- was the Boss of the Troupe.

Pakunoda was interested to learn more about the unusual woman that had enthralled Feitan enough to actually get the short-tempered man to pay instead of stealing, but she knew that he wouldn't tolerate any more questions. Instead, she endeavored to find out more about this woman on her own.

~~~~~~~~

"Wait... What was I doing?"

"You were wondering what you wanted to order from here."

"Oh, right!"

It had been at least six times that the soft woman behind the counter had to remind the ever forgetful Shizuku of what she was doing. Six times that Shizuku had also changed her mind on what she wanted.

Franklin, who was accompanying the other Troupe member was actually getting annoyed with her because he just wanted to leave and meet up with the other members. There were certainly times where he had great patience but it was not one of those times for him. Even though he was getting annoyed, the woman behind the counter seemed calm and happy even as she had to change the order yet again.

"Sorry about her, she has terrible memory."

"It's no trouble, truly. There are greater tragedies in life than a bit of uncertainty and adjusted orders."

Franklin felt a pleasant surprise to hear such wisdom from someone he wouldn't even think twice about. The unusual and understanding way she seemed to approach the situation was odd, as most just got short tempered with Shizuku or even refused to adjust with her ever bouncing memory. Though he wanted to just move on, he felt compelled to stay, if only to see how long that patience would last.

"Wait... What did I order?"

~~~~~~~~

"Think anyone would notice if I just stabbed someone?"

"Doubt it. I bet no one would blink if I fell down this escalator right now."

Uvogin had a wide grin even as he shifted his weight backwards, anticipating hitting the metal moving stairs but instead, landed on something soft.

"Woah there! Are you alright?"

He slowly looked up to see a soft looking woman with kind (e/c) eyes and a concerned expression on her face. To Uvogin, he felt as if he landed on the softest pillow to exist, feeling the nice warm body holding him up with a gentle touch. All words and coherent thought left his mind as he slowly blinked, trying to compose himself.

"..."

"Are you okay, sir?"

"Yeah! Yeah. I- uh... Fell backwards. Don't know why."

"No worries! I'm glad you're okay. Usually it's the vertigo that gets people, just don't look up too far and you should be good."

Uvogin didn't really want to move, but as soon as he and the woman got to the top of the escalator, he quickly got up. The woman smiled sweetly and tried to help stand him up despite his rather massive size. When he was upright, she chirped out a farewell and quickly departed, leaving Uvogin standing with a dumbfounded expression on his face.

"Yeah... Bye... See you later..."

It took a rough shake from Phinks to make Uvogin snap back to attention, feeling like he had been dunked in cold water. He had to tear his eyes away from where the woman had been standing, feeling confused as if he was coming out of some kind of haze. Uvogin had to literally shake his head to clear the odd brain-fog that had consumed him, glancing where the woman disappeared to.

"... D'you think she digs tall guys?"

~~~~~~~~

"C'mon sweetcheeks. Just give me your number."

Machi glared at the man who was trying to heckle her into giving him her number. Though the troupe was trying to lay low before they put their plan into motion, Machi had half a mind to just outright kill the man. It was while she was weighing her options that a voice suddenly cut in.

"She said 'no', take that as your answer and leave."

Both looked over to see a soft looking woman with a clear frown set on her lips, seeming as if she were ready to fight at a moment's notice. Machi was surprised to see the feisty woman but the man seemed annoyed and sighed as if he were being told to do something distasteful.

"I get it, Fatty, you want a chance with me too. I don't usually like fat chicks, but-"

"But you're going to walk your happy ass in the direction of your flight or the exit before I get security to drag you by the taint out of here."

"You really think you can talk to me like-"

"I can and will talk to you like the piece of trash you are if you don't leave her the hell alone."

"Fine, fucking fat bitch."

"That's Ms. Fucking-Fat-Bitch to you."

Machi was surprised that someone so soft was so immune to insults, not to mention the fact that the guy actually fucked off. She made a mental note to single that guy out and get rid of him when she next had the chance, turning to the soft woman for the time being.

"I appreciate it. He was not taking 'no' as an answer."

"Yeah, guys usually think they can bully everyone into doing what they want if they act like their brain is in their testicles. Some don't even have to act."

The flat and almost annoyed tone the woman used made Machi actually let out a soft laugh, more than humored by the odd woman that had helped her. As she looked over the woman she realized that this must be the one the others in the group had been talking about. Certainly, the woman matched the description of the one the other Spiders had been discussing and Machi could see why the other Troupe members she had spoken to were so enthralled.

Perhaps she should tell the others of her similar experience.

~~~~~~~~

Chrollo stood in the line of traveling people, having heard quite a bit about a rather unusual character who the Troupe had encountered several times. He had decided it was time for him to see what the woman was like firsthand. Based off of the testimony of other members, this woman either had manipulative nen or she was a gem among common people. Either way, he wanted to know whatever he could about her.

As he approached the woman in question- she was working the cash-register at one of the shops in the airport- he focused his eyes to see potential nen. What he saw was far from what he had expected.

Based off of her general aura, her nen bled off of her in an uncontrolled way instead of the way it was supposed to. On top of her nen being rather wild- making it clear she had no control over it and likely was unaware of it- something was noticeably wrong. Where abilities often formed as small spirits or beings, a more than intimidating creature stood behind her.

The being was far taller than the woman, even taller than Uvogin. It seemed to be a horribly emaciated humanoid with skin that writhed like worms were beneath the surface and searching for a meal. The skin- as translucent and paper thin as it was- seemed a sickly blue and purple, much like blooming bruises across the surface. It was shrouded in what could only be described as a shawl of shadows, face concealed beneath the rolling darkness. Though it's face was hidden, Chrollo could feel the eyes of the wretch staring out at him. In the beast's hand was a sickle often used for cultivating grain. The curved crescent blade seemed to be soaked in a dripping red ooze that moved slowly and without purpose, the leather handle held by elongated and bony fingers. Everything about the beast was wrong on a fundamental level.

Though the creature was frightening and clearly stronger than most normal nen abilities, it remained a loyal and silent sentinel over the soft woman's shoulder. It was obvious- to Chrollo at least- that the beast was brought to heel by the soft woman even if it seemed she was completely unaware of it. The contrast of the two beings was extreme and made Chrollo wonder just how the woman's nen was released and why it had taken such a vicious shape.

The more Chrollo watched, the more he realized that small amounts of the nen of others was drawn forward and consumed by the being, no doubt fueling the nen of its master. It was difficult to look away from the beast, despite how hard Chrollo tried, noticing the aloof nature of the creature disappear suddenly, becoming acutely aware as if it knew Chrollo could see it. A low hiss came from the beast as Chrollo stepped forward, next in line despite how far from reality he felt.

"Hi there!"

The chirped words paired with the oddly sweet way the woman said it gave Chrollo pause, not expecting such a greeting from someone with a disfigured and distorted reaper as their nen. Though she smiled, the smile never reached her eyes. Chrollo knew a social mask when he saw one, and he had to admit it was rather convincing. He could see why so many of the Troupe had become enamored with her and interested in her, his own observations thus far giving him a similar interest.

Even as he gave a random order he had no intention of keeping, the woman smiled and ensured to behave as if she were truly happy to assist. Chrollo had yet to reach a stage where he was fully believable to everyone with his own social mask, but even he had to admit that her mask was significantly more nuanced than his own. From the short interaction he had with her, he knew the woman was unique and had something to her that seemed to catch the interest of numerous Troupe members, himself included.

When he walked away from the quaint little shop and back to the Troupe, his mind was already working to parse out what he wanted to do. Surely the Troupe would follow his lead, but he wanted to hear their thoughts on the odd woman and her nen. Pakunoda could share the various experiences other members had and it would allow the group to have a more unanimous vote, but he had already settled on what he thought.

It was just a matter of what the Troupe thought now.

[nectardaddy]

best friend's demon - okkotsu yuuta

synopsis: is it normal to have a best friend who has a demon attached to him? is it normal that you know it's there?

cw: talk of the occult, demons/ghosts, paranormal happenings, reader is a little strange

notes: non curse au but with a spooky twist, plantonic relationship, I listened to the beetlejuice soundtrack while writing this, this idea seemed perfect for my sweet baby yuuta, og thoughts here

He's not normal. Far from it. So sick, so twisted, so naive, that it made you want to vomit. The dreadful wave of wretched emotions washing over and you succumbed to the wave and slipped under. You heaved for air, but were granted none, lungs gnashing in your chest just for the slightest bit of oxygen. You couldn't - you wouldn't. It stung, it burned, it created an overwhelming sense of dread with every breath. The air was thick and dense, dizzying as you choked under the pressure; and you wondered what in the hell could create such a powerful presence.

A pale face, with dark eyes, and dark hair was your only prognosis. Okkotsu Yuuta was the only reason why the tone of the room was flipped on its head. A foul, loathsome, choking feeling upon entering any room; he was none the wiser.

You just had to know what on earth was wrong with him.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

The second hand of the clock moved painfully slow, drifting past the face all the while the minute hand hadn't seemed to move. Your eyes glazed over, encapsulated by the fluidity of the clock hands, you had completely tuned the world out. It was an odd feeling to be so calm, so secure, without worry of the outside world - or the world beyond. You couldn't remember how long you remained like this, so enthralled by the movement and a moment of peace.

A gentle tune hung in the air, humming to yourself absentmindedly as you stared stone faced. It wasn't a specific melody, but one that you knew of, a familiarity within the soft drone from your lips. A haunting scene really. Staring into the void all the while humming appealing chords. But your musings ceased as a tightness entered your chest; blinking, and letting a sigh pass your lips, you came back to reality.

There had been a shift, a significant one, within the room you occupied. A thick, malevolent presence taking you by the throat and squeezing relentlessly. A crumbling feeling that made you feel completely overwhelmed, a crushing sensation on your shoulders as they dropped. An eerie silence replaced the soft tick of the clock, one could hear a pin drop if they chose, and your skin crawled at the sudden change.

"You're late," you breathed out, raising your voice only slightly. Eyes flickering over the vacant room, a quant study room with only a table and two chairs, you watched as the door handle swung downward. Door opening only to reveal a sorrowful expression on tired, sickly pale, features.

"I forget every time you can tell I'm here before I even open the door," the voice was frail, an almost feminine twang. "Sorry I'm late," the man gushed, giving you a sorry smile as he joined you at the table. "Today has been terrible," he added. Dark eyes finally met with your own, swirling with a peculiar emotion you could never quite put your finger on. Guilt? Hatred? Self pity?

"It's pissed off today," stating so nonchalantly it made his smile falter. "More than usual," you tagged on to which he softly groaned. "That's probably why your day is shit."

A nervous chuckle fell from the man's lips at your words, truly not knowing what to make of them. "Wonderful," he sighed. A pause fell between the pair of you, noticing all too well that the clock's repeatative tick failed to hit your ears anymore. It was worrying the amount of control whatever was attached to the man had within, its hellish claws sinking deep well beyond the veil. It wasn't normal. It was dangerous. "Do you ever get tired of it?"

His question caught you off guard, coming back from within your own mind to register what was spoken. "Huh?" You posed, furrowing your brows in confusion, "tired of what, exactly?"

"Sensing things you can't see?" He corrected, eyes looking into your own for even a hint of an answer. "I don't know how you do it," letting a sigh pass his lips once more, he leaned back into his chair. "Constantly feeling like someone is there, watching and waiting."

"I'm used to it," you shrugged. "But," you began, letting out a small breath before continuing, "your's isn't normal. Usually demons want to hurt, try to possess, or at least traumatize their benefactor. It's like it's protecting you, in a fucked up sort of way." Your explanation made his features fall, now holding a neutral expression. "I've never felt so off put by some else's attachment. It's like it doesn't want anyone around you."

Tick. Tick. Tick.

It answered you. By means of the clock starting up again - it agreed with you. The notion caused your stomach to churn, flicking your eyes towards the device and turning your head to look past the man in front of you. The quick, fluid motion caused his breath to hitch in his throat, swallowing hard as he knew your reactions were never in vain. It was strange how comfortable, or rather desensitized, he was with your off putting reactions; though he was concerned with the amount you had around him.

Although nauseous from the presence, and frankly the revelation as well, a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips. A chilling smile, unnatural for the situation you found yourself in. "I'll be damned," you mumbled to yourself, leaving the man before you baffled and confused. "Greedy little thing, your attachment is."

"You're making that face again," he spoke with a tense chuckle. He was all too accustomed with your frantic mind, wry smiles, and dark chuckles; a familiarity he found within himself that he was absentmindedly drawn to. At first, he was well too uninformed as to why he found himself occupying your presence. But you toed the line of peculiar and macabre, as did he, and he found solace in the fact you were just as sane as him - which your sanity in itself was very thin. To him you were an absolute treasure of a comrade. A friend he wished he had sooner in his life.

"Of course I'm making this face!" You laughed, a cackle that made him sink in his chair with a small breath. He rather enjoyed your tangents about the paranormal and the occult, but being as his day was already wrecked; however, made him refrain from speaking ill of the very thing that havocked it. Slinking down in his seat as a means to make himself smaller, hoping that the entity attached to him would perhaps feel pity on him. "Yu, does it ever talk to you?" Utterly ignoring his dainty complaints and physical reaction, once you were on a roll there was no stopping.

Pale hands that once rested on the table in front of him, now moved to his lap. Grabbing at the side seam of his pants as his mind began to race, "not explicitly?" A questioning tone as his voice raised a twinge at the end. "I get weird dreams about it, but it never really talks to me."

"What kinds of dreams?" Your eyes flicked back to the man sitting at the table, finally taking in his anxiety riddled form. Far too intrigued by the clock only moments ago, you felt a pang of guilt wash over you. "Too much?" You asked shyly, a sorry smile creeping on your features to replace your wild one, retreating from your latter statement and shoving it to the back burner of your mind.

"Too much."

Two words, simple enough, leaving your skin less prickled, a bit more oxygen filling your lungs, and the crushing weight easing its clutches on your shoulders. Was this all it took? A caring word to the man?

Was it possible to play nice with your best friend's demon?

oooooh I might make a part 2 I love this