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sukunas-wife · 4 months

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you could do something where sukuna and yuji team up to protect their mom/wife when a person is bothering or harassing her, they love her so much that they won't let someone hurt her 🥹💗

Leave Mama Kuna alone 😔

Old Day, because no one was brave enough to confront Sukuna for murder.

Warnings? Murder, in red text a man attempted to force himself on reader, Gore, Blood

It didn't take much to upset Sukuna, he was always looking for a reason to snap at someone and end a life. Sadly his son Yuji was a cock block for murder, and it irked him that he basically had to shake and rile his son up to get angry and then he’d just flat line and “but why don’t we-“ They didn’t agree to often on why a man should die- but in this case they were all agreeing. “Get him daddy!” Yuji yelled, pointing his chubby finger at a man maybe in his early Twenties who had been talking to you while you were trying to pick out Snacks for Yuji. He had wandered off after passing a candy stand and usually you’d send a maid or help to get the necessities but today you wanted to take Yuji out to walk and play and hopefully learn some self preservation, Sukuna, well he was feared and he just wanted to come along to make sure no idiot would try to disrespect you. “Listen, I’m just trying to get some things for my son. Leave while you still can and maybe my husband will let you live.” You smiled nodding at the man who scoffed “Your husband? What is he? a Mercenary? What’s he gonna do to kill me? That’s probably a lie you probably don’t even have a so-” you sighed turning away when Sukuna lifted the man by the neck with one hand twisting him around to face him, “No, I’m your God,” his stare darkened “but I’m not so merciful.” There stood Yuji by his dads leg, “Yeah! You deserve no mercy! That’s my mom you were disrespecting!… Idiot!” You tried not to laugh at Yuji’s extra words and went back to paying the scared vendor for the snacks you had picked out. By the time you looked back the guy was laid out on the floor bloody and probably just barely clinging to life, head being pressed into the dirt being grinded on by Sukuna’s large foot. Yuji was swinging away on his ribs and stomach, for a 7 year old his hits were surprisingly solid.

As the day progressed you had managed to convince Sukuna to have lunch despite the fact he didn’t eat human food. But he watched as Yuji sat beside him slurping away at noodles and his rice topped with diced meat, “Boy’s more human than curse.” Was all Sukuna said when Yuji looked up at him, noodles hanging out his mouth before he slurped them up smiling. “Daddy I gotta Pee.” Sukuna sighed standing up out of the booth, “then go.” “…go with me?” Yuji looked up at his dead with pleading eyes before Sukuna groaned and motioned for him to go, “Fine.” Sukuna was waiting outside the bathroom when he heard a trio, two men and one woman. “That's her isn’t it? She’s the Deity at the Shrine house isn’t she?” One man asked the girl. She just shrugged, “Yeah but I don’t see what’s so special about her? So she had some big curses kid, her body’s probably trashed or something.” “Shut up Kaguya, you're probably just jealous, any man would give anything to lay that woman in their bed. If I had a chance I’d get her pregnant too, look at her, I’d do anything to pull her robes off.” The second guy spoke up, “That’s sick man, she has a husband and kid, Yeah she’s pretty but she’s literally a deity, have some respect.” Kaguya interrupted “She’s probably a slut and maid who just had sex with him and got lucky she got pregnant, she’d probably spread her legs for anyone if they offered a comfortable lif-“ Sukuna’s hands were bloody, in a matter of seconds he had ripped th hearts out of the first man and the girls chest. It hadn't been processed as they managed to look up his blood covered hands. The smirk on his face was sinister and became worse when the second man looked up at him in fear, struggling to scream. He shoved the man’s friend's heart into his mouth like a gag, leaning down with a threatening voice “You’d do best to keep your mouth shut.”

Yuji and you had wandered off from Sukuna when he became surrounded by people bearing gifts to honour him. He was annoyed and even more when he turned to realise both you and Yuji had left his side. You were taking Yuji with you to the shrine house the people had built for you. The eunuchs at the entrance greeted you, stopping to ask if Yuji would be entering with you, which caused him to hold onto the side of your robes and sleeve, you put your hand on his shoulder comforting him, “Yes, this is my son after all.” Entering the shrine, you made your way all the way to the back where you would sit and wait before the doors would open to the public. Yuji was walking around the room looking around until he stopped. You had a wall where all the drawings he’d ever given you while leaving the palace had been framed because “I don wan you to forget me” A young girl came into the room shocked that Yuji was there until you cleared your throat, “oh! Forgive me Lady Y/n, I didn’t know you would be here today.” You waved a hand of dismissal. “I didn’t expect to be here either, but I thought Yuji,” you looked at him, he was staring at the girl in the door, slowly walking to you, his eyes never left her face. He looked serious, a face his dad often wore when something was wrong and he was watching it play out or when he was lost in thought. He turned away from you leaning against your lap standing between you and the girl. “Who the hell is she?” He sounded like a younger version of his dad with his demanding tone and dead stare, his curse word caught you off guard. You tried to form words stopping when you couldn’t, “she’s a servant who works here Yu, what’s wrong?” You leaned trying to get a look at his face, but he wouldn’t turn to look at you, he had his target. The girl became uncomfortable under his stare, “well, him Lady y/n there was an expecting mother who came by begging for a miracle.. the details shouldn’t be explained in front of such a young boy or boy at all really but-“ you held up your hand silencing her. “Bring her into the main room. I'll be out in a minute. I just need to make sure Yuji will be okay here for a few minutes.” She bowed, closing the door, Yuji turned to look at you and he seemed visibly at ease, “Yu.. what’s wrong?” He looked at the door, “She’s funny.. in a bad way..” you didn’t know how to answer. “Alright, I’ll remember that then.” You stood up, setting him on your chair and kneeling in front of him, “Will you be okay here? Alone for a short bit?” He shook his head no while kicking his feet, “Don’t leave me.”

That’s how you ended up with Yuji following quietly behind you when you made your way through the hallways to the main room. He got distracted stopping for a moment to look at a picture, the end of the hallway split two ways. There was a painting of Sukuna holding newborn Yuji, he looked so serious in the painting, when you told Sukuna you wanted it for your shrine he refused to smile saying it wouldn’t look good in the public eye or something along those words. Yuji was pulled out of his day dream when he heard you scream, he ran trying to find you. He froze seeing a man cornering you in the hallway, you were fighting him off the best you could but you couldn’t only do so much against a half curse half man that was attempting to measure up to Sukuna. He was far off from even touching the hem of Ryomen’s robes, but he was an entitled arrogant bastard. When the servant girl came, Yuji saw how she smiled at the scene. Yuji ran in blind, jumping and climbing the man’s back, wrapping his arms around his neck and biting into his shoulder. The man screamed and tried to pull Yuji free. He couldn’t do it alone so the servant girl tried, you fought harder when you saw how she was shaking him around. You broke free from the man's grip pulling Yuji free from her before rushing screaming for Sukuna, all the eunuchs wouldn’t be able to help you. The man grabbed your robes and Yuji fell from your arms, he watched his man lift you by the front of your robes and your hands, nails were digging into his wrist.

Why don’t you use your technique mom!? DO SOMETHING! dads not he- “Domain Expansion” the room went black, there was the sound of a drip and everything was dark, it felt hard to breathe, “Cleave.” Your eyes widened before you shoved the man off of you. You heard the squelch and thud of a body, and the crashing and cracking of the walls to your shrine being torn apart. Turning to look you saw Yuji, his hand sign was opposite his fathers, but he looked livid. His face was covered in markings mirroring his fathers more human form. You wanted to say something, but you turned to the gaping wall. The Cursed man was laying in the dusty street, he was sliced deeply but not fatally. The servant didn’t stand a chance. She was sliced finely for betrayal. Watching a crowd gather you pulled Yuji with you to see if the cursed man was alive. He was laying there, unfocused, he saw you and yelled “ILL FUCKING KILL YOU AND YOUR DAMN CHILD I AM THE ONE DESTINED FOR GREAT I WILL BE THE KING OF CURSES YOU BOTH WILL DIE AT MY HANDS,” before forcing himself up, chest, arms, and waist crossed with deep gashes.

He tried to lift his hands only to realise they weren’t there, his arms were gone. Yuji was mad that a man would try to take advantage of his mother, but as long as his father wasn’t there he would be there, but for now, a low chuckled rumbled behind the man, “You’ll need your hands to even think about laying them on my wife and son.” Sukuna wrapped his arm around the man from behind, large hand squeezing his neck, a low grumble, “You aren’t strong, you’re a fool and your brain is a pile of shit. You deserve only the worst death, but I’m having a little fun here so I’ll make this slow and painful.” Uraume approached Sukuna holding out his staff. Sukuna stabbed it into the ground piercing the man on the pointed edges, letting him sink down until it pierced through his chest. There the cursed man screamed and no matter how much he squirmed and begged for mercy Sukuna would push him down further. The man begged for mercy, for him to stop, “Did you listen to my wife when she asked you to stop?” He took the man’s jaw in his hand forcing him to look up at him, the pressure slowly fracturing his jaw as he shook his head no trying to profusely apologise. Sukunas nails dug into his face before he let go, “Did you have mercy on my wife when you grabbed her like this?” His large hand crushed the man's throat, nails digging into his skin, blood flowing, “WHEN MY WIFE TRIED TO PUSH YOU AWAY DID YOU WALK AWAY? NO YOU TRIED TO TOUCH HER LIKE THIS.” Sukuna placed his hand on the man’s chest, “dishonourable actions will be paid for with blood.” The crowd was watching when Sukuna drove his hand into the man’s chest squeezing his heart in his chest, the man screamed and gurgled as he spat up blood. Sukuna ripped out his heart throwing it on the ground and ripping off his head crushing his skull in his head, “Let this be a warning to every human in the vicinity, in this city in the existence of this time, that any man or woman who would act to lift a hand against my child or wife, your blood will be spilled to atone your sins.”

The crowd quickly cleared out and Sukuna turned to you, Yuji still had the markings on his face, his eyes were red. Sukuna nodded, holding an arm out to you. Pushing Yuji ahead of you, you started to tear up, hugging your husband’s side. Yuji was hugging your side. “Ryo-“ he shushed you using a hand to press your face against his chest. Burying your face against his hot skin your body wanted to tremble while you cried into the comforting of your husband but his presence was reassuring as surprising as it might sound. He rubbed his warm hand up and down your back “I’m here now.” He rested his chin on top of your head, he looked down at Yuji pulling him into his other side ruffling his hair. “You did good kid.” Yuji still looked serious before he leaned into his dads side with a slight smile. He went over to hug you, you took hold of him and he didn’t let go until you stopped sniffling. He smiled up at you, puffy eyes and red cheeks, Sukuna snickered, pinching your cheek making a joke, Yuji’s bright smile didn’t falter, “I still think you’re pretty.” Your sudden laugh made your husband and son laugh. Kneeling down you pinched both of Yuji’s cheeks lightly as he laughed, before cupping his face in both hands bringing him close to kiss both of cheeks and forehead calling him “My Little Protector.” He smiled with pride before you got up smiling at Sukuna, he sides eyed you before sighing leaning to the side giving you his face, “and my big hero.” Cupping his face you brought him into a kiss and he smirked against your lips when Yuji let out a loud “eeeewwww”

“Cmon Yu,” you held your hand out to him and he took it happily walking while holding your hand, “I’ll be stronger next time!”

Tag:

@sakuxxi @mercymccann @simpforyoubitch @certainduckanchor @domainofmarie @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare @sad-darksoul @cyder-puff @satorisgirl l @bontensbabygirl @lupita97lm @queen-luna-007 7

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stsgluver · 7 months

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summary. rich boy!gojo's instagram feed

wc. 400

tags. fluff

dynasty [rich boy!au]

lovesick satoru who’s entire instagram feed is you.

he's never been covert with his love in real life, so it's no surprise his online persona is no different.

prior to your relationship, his instagram had been very minimalist - mainly compromised of just highlights. there was only one proper post: a photo of him and geto in suits for an event that they both had drunk too much at to remember. his highlights were organised: one for the stray cats he found, one for the constellations he'd see late at night, and a third of the people he cared for (this one could only be seen by those on his close friends list).

then there is you.

satoru is the first one to publicly launch your relationship - it's a soft launch of you staring up at a waterfall he'd taken you to for your second date. your face isn't visible, and compared to satoru's infamous status, you were relatively unknown so only those who knew the two of you well could identify you properly. he posts that on his story with mitski's 'my love mine all mine' playing in the background and creates a new highlight for you (he titles it 'my girl').

he doesn't post often on his main account but, when he does, nine times out of ten, it's you or a photo you'd taken of him (his spam is daily pictures of your life together of course). for the first time in his life, satoru has found love through his own means and not through his parents so he adores to showing it off (much to his father's dismay - matching onesie pics with his girlfriend wasn't exactly screaming 'heir to the gojo fortune').

although satoru's instagram isn't public, his affluent position in society and popularity does mean that he has several thousand followers to his name (many of which being female). it makes the two of you giggle when one of these said girls tries to slip into his dms despite the fact his account is a literal shrine of his love for you.

in response, he'll add the girl to his close friends and post a picture (usually of the two of you kissing, sometimes just you) to his close friends. once the girl has seen it, he'll block her off of instagram and all other socials she may have contact with him on.

satoru is devoted to you and he wants the whole world to know it.

a/n. this was inspired by @bbyjackie (I LOVE THEIR ONE PIECE WRITINGS SM)

#rich boy!gojo #— toru!!#satoru gojo #gojo satoru #gojo jjk #gojou satoru x reader #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo saturo #jujustu kaisen #satoru

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urhoneycombwitch · 3 months

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shrine of your lights

🍯 honey flavour: edibles and a church wedding to attend. what could go wrong with Eddie as your plus one?

🐝 the bees: FWB!Eddie x reader

wc: 4.8k

content warnings: a smidge of Catholic blasphemy, weed usage, friends w/ benefits Eddie, R is a bit of a love (and relationship) skeptic and Eddie is lovesick, R+E are in their 20’s, pining, public sex (no one but them observes tho), R has hair long enough to tuck behind ears, R gets a hickey but skin tone/color is not described, R has breasts and a V, softdom Eddie, marking kink (?)

foreword: I listened to Say You Love Me by Fleetwood Mac for this. LOL. kind of AU bc it’s a few years after ssn 4 and everyone is alive and just fine (lovesick but oh well can’t b helped) based on this anon thank u for inspiring me!!!!

The stained glass window in front of you looms tall, afternoon light streaming through and casting a kaleidoscope of colors on the polished wood flooring. You stretch out a hand into the warm beam of sun, admiring the way the colors catch and bounce off your dainty star-chain bracelet.

When Eddie had suggested you two eat some weed brownies as a precursor to your (very distant, very Catholic) cousin’s wedding, you hadn’t quite expected to get as stoned as you are now. Since Eddie hasn’t attended any major life functions sober since 1981, and seeing as how you refuse to step foot inside a church space without some sort of social lubricant, the weed wasn’t a hard sell at all.

To be fair, Eddie had warned you of their potency, and you had snuck another quarter of a brownie when his back was turned: but christ, your tolerance must be crazy low or something, ‘cuz a window has no right to be this mesmerizing.

You’ve been staring at it for the past five minutes, in your own little world while a steady stream of wedding guests file in through the big oak doors and mill about before the ceremony. The warm, still air of the church is heady with the smell of fresh florals and incense, and a line of votive candles flicker and wink against the windowsill.

Casting a glance over your shoulder, you see Eddie’s still speaking in gentle tones with an elderly woman (whom you’re likely related to, hard to say) near the foyer, all charming smile and sincere hand pressed to the slip of bare chest his button-down displays. You’ve got to hand it to the guy, he’s really great at endearing himself to total strangers; he’s been a natural shoe-in for any plus-one you’ve needed over the past few years.

While Eddie is perfectly in his element, holding what looks to be an engaging conversation while stoned to all hell, your focus is drawn back to the window. You should probably be on the arm of your guest, seeing as how it’s your family wedding after all, but the swirling lights and colors are too alluring to pull yourself away from.

“Beautiful piece of art, isn’t it?”

The voice behind you is unfamiliar, and proper social graces here would call for an introduction, perhaps a firm handshake, but your limbs and tongue feel so loose and the reply is out of your mouth before you can think twice- “God, yeah. S’fucking gorgeous. I want one for my house.”

There’s a light cough, and when you turn on your low-heeled Mary Janes it’s under the amused eye of a priest- in full priest-garb. Green velvet robes and little hat and everything.

You realize your error- swearing and taking the Lord’s name in vain- but the brief stint in Catholic school from when you were 6 is unfortunately not recalled in time to stop the scramble of swears mixed with apologies that come tumbling out.

“Oh shit- I mean- fuck. Oh god. Sorry, Father, I didn’t mean-”

The priest- old as hell but thankfully with sense of humor still intact- smiles kindly at you and takes your hand in both of his, patting graciously. “No apologies are necessary, my dear. The beauty of God can be overwhelming and awe-inducing.”

You nod jerkily, grabbing on to his excuse- “Yes, yep. That’s exactly what happened. Struck down by the awe.”

The priest nods to you, and then to Eddie (who’s appeared at your side like a guard dog that sensed trouble), then wanders off down a row of pews to greet other guests.

You’re nearly doubled over with the effort it takes to conceal your laughter, Eddie stroking a calming hand down your back and chuckling with you under his breath.

“Struck down by the awe, huh?” he echoes as you straighten back up and dab at the tears gathering against your lashline. “You really are somethin’.”

“That was so embarrassing but guess what-” here you lean in, voice a conspiratorial whisper as Eddie raises his eyebrows to look down his nose at you- “I don’t give a fuck ‘cuz I’m hi-igh.”

This last word is sung with a two-note lilt, and you turn back to the comfort of the sunny window as Eddie steps in beside you, shaking his head. “I told you to start with a lower dose, ya goose. Did you take more when I wasn’t looking?”

You shrug a shoulder, the soft linen of your cardigan brushing up against the hard leather of Eddie’s jacket. “Maybe. Couldn’t say. You gonna steal this window for me or what?”

He blows out a breath, pretending to appraise the size and heft, rapping his ringed knuckles against the sill- “Well normally I’d say ‘anything for my girl’, but we’d need a shrink ray for this type’a heist.”

“Maybe Dustin has one we can borrow.”

He sucks his front teeth, playing along, shaking his head in faux-disappointment. “Nah, little shit’s only got a ham radio. Useless when it comes to religious robbery.”

Eddie looks overly pleased when you giggle, but some of the humor in his face falls to concern as he reaches out to squeeze your upper arms. “Hey. You doin’ okay? If you’re too stoned to sit through the ceremony, I can find us a little spot to hole up in. I’m good at finding those.”

“I know you are,” you reply, waving away his worry. “I’m fine, honest. Do I look high?”

He holds you at arm’s length, giving you a contemplative once-over. “Nope. You look beautiful.”

You roll your eyes, affectionately, then smooth your palms over the front of your black slip dress and pull the scalloped sleeves of your cardigan into place. “Well, of that I am aware.”

Eddie winks, and you really wish you were sober enough that the warmth of his hands and the smell of his cologne would have less of an effect but high as you are, you want nothing more than to burrow into his neck and taste the salt of his skin.

“Do I look high?” he asks, pulling away to do a little spin so you can appraise his appearance.

Eddie Munson, as it turns out, cleans up very well for family functions: smart black boots, maroon button-down tucked into a pair of flare-legged trousers, worn but well-kept leather jacket to top the outfit off. And in signature Eddie fashion, little glints of silver highlight the ensemble- his usual chunky rings, stacked layers of thin chain necklaces, metal buckles on his coat and at his waist, even a set of tiny hoops (courtesy of your jewelry drawer) in his ears.

The dryness in your mouth has nothing to do with your intoxication as you blink back to the present and give Eddie a once-over. “Uhm. Nope. You look sober. And very hot.”

He grins at you, wolfish, but then a bright chord of organ music signals the start of the ceremony. With a steady hand on your back, he leads you to a pew near the last row; when you’re both seated, his hand runs smoothly down to rest on your thigh, drumming a lazy beat with his thumb against you as the processional starts.

Your cousin Marion looks lovely swathed in white tulle, contrasted with her groom in a black tux. Her mother, your aunt- Karen? Karina? can’t recall- dabs at her tears with a delicate lace handkerchief in the front pew as the couple exchanges vows, promising eternal and ineffable love until their ultimate demise, etcetera.

You’re not someone who’s ever fallen prone to the gushy emotions that love seems to create in so many of your peers. While Nancy and Robin will dole out tissues to each other during some cheesy romcom, you’ll get ribbed for being so stoic. None of your breakups have ever ended in giant blowouts or dramatics from your side- hard to fight for something when you hadn’t really cared about it in the first place.

That’s why you consider yourself so lucky, when it comes to Eddie. After the two of you ended your high school fling due to graduation, you’d come back to Hawkins after a few years of college and found yourself sneaking out like a teenager again to hang out with Eddie Munson.

He told you he doesn’t want anything serious, either, and that he’s just fine being friends who sleep around and go to all of each other’s parties.

You almost believe him.

He’s been to every one of your nephew’s hockey games this past season, and you’ve spent two cozy Christmases so far at the trailer with him and Wayne; every party in between has ended with Eddie driving you home, or (more frequently) back to his place. Your collective relatives and friends haven’t asked about your relationship status in years, and it’s all thanks to Eddie’s presence in your life: if the two of you aren’t technically dating, it’s really no one’s business.

The old priest from earlier is droning on about some bible verse; uncomfortable on the hard bench and feeling restless, you shift your hips, and Eddie digs his fingers into the meat of your thigh.

“Quit. Squirming,” he murmurs, lips at your ear. When you shiver and still, he pats your leg and straightens again, eyes fixed to the front altar.

You and Eddie make it through the ceremony with minimal damage, only getting one dirty look from an older man in the pew ahead when you’d snickered at a dirty joke (courtesy of your benchmate). Marion and her new husband greet their guests one by one as everyone filters outside, and you coast easily through the interaction, kissing your cousin on both cheeks and fawning over her dress and giving just the right amount of congrats before Eddie plucks at your elbow to subtly redirect your attention.

“Let’s get some food in you,” he says, linking your arms together as you follow the receiving line outdoors.

The reception is held just next to the church building in a surprisingly lovely courtyard. Sunlight filters through the willow trees at the edge of a grass yard, where a picnic basket awaits on each spread quilt. People are kicking off their dress shoes, unwinding with the lure of nature, kids chasing each other through the paths between blankets as adults wiggle their toes into the grass and dig into the luncheon.

Possibly, you’re high and over-romanticizing, but you can tell by the look on Eddie’s face he’s there with you, taking it all in from your blanket in a quiet corner of the yard.

There are finger sandwiches in the basket, along with some fresh fruit and plastic utensils and plates to eat off of; Eddie fixes you a plate and you dig in happily, sock feet tucked under yourself, yours and Eddie’s shoes in a jumble nearby.

“Could eat anything when I’m high,” you muse, then bite into a sandwich that has the perfect cream-cheese-to-cucumber ratio with a contented sigh. “Food is so good.”

Eddie snaps a baby carrot with his back teeth, then snorts at you before reaching out to tuck one side of your hair behind your ear before it gets eaten along with your food. “I know you can eat anything when you’re high. I once saw you scooping up apple pie with potato chips.”

You give him a sidelong frown, mouth full of bread and veg as you defend yourself- “Yeah, and it was great. Dee-licious. Would do it again if-”

Your name is being called, and you swivel to see a young man about your age weaving along the spaces between blankets towards yours and Eddie’s spot.

“Tony!” In a neat bit of multitasking, you manage to swallow your food and rise to your feet (albeit unsteadily, with Eddie’s hand snapping out to support your efforts), then hold your arms out to envelop the boy in a hug. “Oh my god, it’s been ages.”

Anthony Townsend has grown up in the time you’ve spent away- the last recollection you have of your former childhood neighbor is his mop of red hair bouncing with the trampoline his parents bought him in 6th grade. He grew into his looks, for sure- the awkwardness of pre-teen ears and too-big front teeth have settled into a very kind and handsome face.

He looks genuinely pleased to see you, returning your hug with a squeeze, pulling back to hold both your hands and ask about where you’ve been. You breeze through a highlighted version of the last few years, leaving out all the interdimensional monster bullshit and focusing the questions back on him.

Tony’s telling you about his father’s veterinary practice that’s still running smoothly when you feel Eddie at your back, and Tony falters, dropping your hands.

Social cues come a tad slow to you, under the influence, and you think Tony’s stumbling because you haven’t introduced him yet (how were you supposed to know Eddie’s been glaring daggers at the poor kid ever since you’d hugged him?), and you attempt to remedy your mistake with a casual remark- “You know, Eddie here has been feeding the stray cats at our place every night, a whole colony of them- there’s gotta be, what, ten of ‘em now?”

You turn to Eddie for confirmation, reeling a little at the dark scowl he’s still sporting as he nods. “Yup. Somethin’ like.”

Tony scratches at the back of his neck, freckled cheeks pink as he begins to back away- “Um, yeah. Cool. Well it was great to see you! I gotta…”

With a vague gesture, he turns and tails it back to his blanket on the other side of the yard. You whirl on Eddie, his face smoothing back into relaxed indifference, even as you hiss, “What the hell was that?”

Eddie shrugs. “Don’t know what you mean, princess.”

“That,” you repeat, waving an arm in the air for emphasis. “I know I’m not sober but you were being weird, even by my standards.”

There’s this look that Eddie gets, sometimes, when one of you bumps against the walls of your loosely-defined relationship- a brief flash of pain and sadness before it gets hidden away behind his comfortable mask of bravado.

He’s got it now- a small pinch in his eyebrows, doey eyes swimming with emotion, and you put a hand on his leather-clad arm as the pieces fall into place. “Were you… are you jealous?”

In the span of a blink, the mask is back up, and with a dry laugh that’s so unlike him, Eddie shakes his head. “Nah. What do I have to be jealous of, huh? ‘S not like we belong to each other.”

Maybe on a different day, with half the weed in your system, you’d be able to let this comment slide. But there’s something deeply hurtful about it, sinking and twisting in your stomach like a stone. Your grip tightens on Eddie’s arm, tears stinging hot at your eyes, voice a watery, desperate thing- “Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.”

Eddie is quick to comfort you, once he realizes you’re close to crying- “Shit, sweetheart. Okay. You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to think…” Your voice is still shaky with emotion as Eddie lets you hold on to him, gently shushing you even though there’s no one near enough to hear. “You’re important to me, Eddie. I never wanna make you mad, or upset, or-”

“I’m not.” Eddie cuts smoothly into your rambling, placing his hands on either side of your neck as you cling to him, cool rings kissing into your skin. “I’m not mad, promise. I was just being an asshole for no reason, okay? Could never be mad at you.”

His thumb strokes at the column of your throat, your breath and heart rate lulled to normal under his touch, his expression returning to the gentle fondness you’re used to seeing.

“Let’s finish up lunch, hm?” Eddie says, and with a final soft squeeze he pulls away from you, taking with him the warmth of his palms.

It’s always like this, with him, at least in front of your respective families- any PDA is kept to a strict minimum, nothing too intimate or drawn out so as not to attract attention. You’d implemented this rule from the beginning, and Eddie has been nothing but respectful of it, your peace of mind over not wanting a label pacified.

But right now? The lack of Eddie’s arms around you or his lips on yours was starting to make you ache.

You both settle into the blanket again, conversation flowing around mouthfuls of food as you catch Eddie up with the latest family gossip, laughing when he bats your pointer finger out of the air (as if anyone is really paying attention to you two giggling loons).

Someone’s brought a radio and has it dialed to a soft rock station; you gasp and shove at Eddie (sprawled out like a house cat after a full meal in the sun), exclaiming “It’s Fleetwood Mac and you love Fleetwood Mac!”

“I so don’t,” he grumbles, but rises easily when you tug at him to stand sock-to-sock feet with you in the grass.

You both fall into a smooth rhythm, Eddie’s hands staying (respectably) on your hips, yours looped around his neck, doing a slow little rotation. He gazes at you as you sway back and forth in each other’s arms, the scrutiny making you titter and fidget.

“What?”

“Thought I told you to quit squirmin’,' ' comes his answer, hands tightening into the meat of your waist. “Let me look at you a minute.”

So you let him look.

While his chocolate eyes roam your face, you trail a hand up to curl a lock of his hair around your finger. Eddie leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut, giving you room to do some staring of your own at those long, dark lashes.

After another slow circle, Eddie inhales and draws himself back, clearing his throat. “Not that I’m not enjoying this, sweetheart, but we’re gonna start getting looks if you don’t quit using me as your personal stress toy.”

You snort. “You’re right. Sorry.”

“All good,” he replies, dimples springing into his cheeks, teasing again- “When we get home later you can pet me like a dog, if you want. Just gotta tone you down ‘cuz you get touchy when you’re high.”

Eddie’s being a perfect gentleman. He’s sticking to your rules and looking out for you.

So why is it making you so sad?

You realize, with a stunning clarity, that you don’t want to wait until you’re back at the trailer to touch Eddie. That you’re starting to crave him when he leaves, whether it’s for a day or an hour or just out of bed to get a snack.

Fuck it, you think, and bend to scoop up your shoes.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you tell Eddie, slipping on your shoes then starting towards the building. When you realize he’s not following, you pause, giving him a look over your shoulder- “Aren’t you coming?”

Eddie blinks, wondering if you’re insinuating what he thinks you’re insinuating or if he’s just really, really high. “Um. Uh…”

You don’t leave room for the shock to sink in, turning on your heel and smirking when you hear him swear under his breath and scramble to catch up.

In a narrow hallway lined with portraits of long-dead saints, you push Eddie against the wall, mouth sealing over his and hands roaming hungrily over his body.

“Fuck,” he gasps out, in between kisses, your fingers tugging at the root of his hair, near the nape of his neck where it stings the best- “what’s got you so worked up, princess?”

“You.” The answer is an honest one. You slip your tongue between Eddie’s teeth and the boy moans, melting into you.

Peppering kisses down Eddie’s face, your lips settle into the hollow just under his jaw, then part to give room to your teeth. Eddie stiffens as you bite down, sensitive skin pierced by your mouth; it’s his turn to be the squirmy one as you suck a bruise into that soft spot.

His cock is filling out, as proved by the steadily-growing bulge behind his zipper. You give a mean little wiggle of your hips and Eddie jolts so hard you lose your spot on his neck, popping off him with a wet smack.

“Angel, you have to stop.” Eddie sounds absolutely wrecked as he tries to maintain some distance, head tipped back to stare at the popcorn ceiling. “M’not gonna last if you keep doing that. Let me take you home, we can-”

“Shhh.” You quiet him with a pointer finger smooshed against his lips, your other hand tilted to your ear. “You hear that?”

Eddie strains to hear distant cheers and hip hip hoorays from the festivities a few corridors away; when he nods, you whisper, “That’s the cake cutting. We have a good ten minutes before anyone thinks to come back here.”

At first, Eddie thinks he’s off the hook when you release him completely, walking swiftly towards the main sanctuary. But then, because you’re a temptress, you beckon him with an impatient wave.

And because he’s so easy for you, he follows.

It’s like that window has a magnetic pull- you’re back under the prismatic glow of the stained glass, brushing a hand across the wide sill to dust it before hopping up to perch there. You fit neatly between the split row of votive candles (all snuffed out by now), enough room for your knees to part and for Eddie to fill the space.

You cross your arms around his neck, drawing him in with another deep kiss as his hands find your waist.

“Want you to mark me up,” you murmur, and when Eddie draws back, wary, you let your chin tip up. The crown of your head knocks into the window, exposing your throat. “Show them I’m yours, Eds.”

Only have to tell him twice, apparently, ‘cuz his teeth sink into your stretch of soft skin without further qualms. The feeling of his tongue soothing over the sore spot makes you jump, hips bucking forward into his hand that you didn’t even notice had trailed up the inside of your dress.

His long fingers pet at the wet patch that’s seeping through your underwear, catching at your clit on an upstroke, your gasp a harsh noise in the otherwise silent sanctuary.

Eddie begins to rub at you through the fabric in earnest now, tight circles with his thumb even as he pulls his mouth from your neck to assess his handiwork. “Yeah, fuck, sweetheart, that’s gonna leave a mark. You want everyone to know who you belong to, huh?”

Your bundle of nerves throbs under Eddie’s touch and you curse, hands weaving tight into his hair again. “Shit, Eddie, yeah- just like that…”

He dips back into the well of your neck with his teeth, keeps just the right amount of pressure on your clit, and that tension coiling in your lower stomach is just about to snap before you stop him with a hand around his wrist.

“Sorry,” you pant through the apology, forehead crushed to Eddie’s collarbone as you try and catch your breath. “Was about to come and I want you inside of me for that.”

“Jesus fucking christ.”

Eddie fumbles with his belt buckles as you giggle, chastising- “Hush and mind your manners, Munson. That’s blaspheming and we’re about to fuck in a church.”

“I’ll show you manners.” Eddie has his pants and briefs shoved to mid-thigh before you can draw breath to tell him off; one hand smears precum down the shaft of his ruddy cock as the other pushes your dress up and hooks your panties to the side.

You’re wet and worked up enough that he slides into the heat of you with ease, breath punching out with the way his cock completely fills you. When Eddie pulls out and sinks back in, you let out a keening whine and scrabble for purchase on his leather jacket.

“That’s it, sweetheart, that’s it-” his voice is a dark rumble, each word punctuated with a snap of his hips, the squelch of your slick walls responding. “So wet for me. That’s my good girl. You like gettin’ off to being mine, huh, angel?”

You nod, head lolling against the window, and Eddie grins wicked even though you can’t see it. “Come on. Show me whose pussy this is.”

When his hand snakes between your bodies to press against your clit with his thumb, you come with a long, strained whimper, ankles crossing at the small of Eddie’s back to draw him closer while the velvet walls of your cunt spasm.

Eddie’s free hand shoots out to the supporting wood arch of the window for stability as he angles his hips up, longing for that glossy honey-eyed look you get sometimes: and there it is, your eyes half-lidded and brow pinched in pleasure as his cock hits against that gummy spot, the tremble of your thighs locked around his waist as your orgasm peaks.

Once he’s fucked you through the height of it, Eddie dips to bite at the taut muscle where your neck and shoulder meet, clamping down on the words threatening to flood out as his hips stutter. He comes hard, deep groan muffled into your neck, curses and praises spilling out in mindless babbling: “Fuck fuck, angel, that’s it, honey, shit, you’re so wet. All for me, huh, baby? Doin’ so good…”

He sags into your arms, pinning you to the window, chests heaving in tandem as you both catch your breath. You stroke a hand down his back, towards his ass, and then to the edge of his pants.

When he realizes that you’re trying to tuck him back into his clothes he whines at you, but you’re quick to shush him. “We’re cuttin’ it close with timing already, Eds. Help me out?”

Reluctantly, Eddie pulls away from the wet warmth of you to re-dress. Once his belt is in place he attends to you, helping shift the hem of your dress back down, rubbing his finger lightly under the skin of your eye where some mascara had smudged.

“I’ll double back for the keys and we’ll go home, ‘kay?” Eddie says, nose nudging into your cheek. “Wait here. You got some wicked marks and everyone will know we just fucked.”

“Pfft. No they won’t. Who would actually fuck in a church?” You push Eddie back playfully, hopping down from the sill with a wink. “You’ve gotta be sick to do that. Good thing my family believes you to be a perfect goody-two-shoes.”

Eddie stares as you make for the doors back to the courtyard, shrugging off his incredulity- “Eddie. It’s fine. So they’ll think we made out a bit. Who cares? Not me. And plus…” here you trail off and point, mischievous, Eddie’s eye’s following the line to his sock feet- “...you kinda have a no-shoes situation goin’ on. Gotta fix that.”

When you disappear through the doors, Eddie slams a palm to his chest, in awe- then feels the outline of the lighter in his inner pocket. With a practiced twist, he has it out and lit in a second, holding the flame to the wick of a votive candle.

“I don’t know how these candles work, exactly, or if atheists are allowed to…” Eddie clears his throat, glances over his shoulder to confirm you’re still out of earshot, then whispers above the flickering light: “Please let this be real life and not just some high-fueled fantasy because this is kind of huge for me. Okay thanks. Amen, or whatever.”

Eddie blows out the candle like it’s a birthday wish then hurries to catch up with you, sock feet silent against the wood floor as he calls out your name- “Slow down and have a heart, babe, I’ve got no grip!”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #weed mention #tw weed

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jellieland · 5 months

Text

"Well, that was fun!" says Jimmy.

"Oh, was it?" says Grian, grumpily. He's on top of the mountain, assessing the damage from Martyn's end crystal. It's blown up part of the bed shrine, which might actually be more of a loss than the twenty-two hearts of damage it did to him. "You did seem to be enjoying making me do completely ridiculous stuff, don't think I didn't notice that."

"It was pretty funny though," says Jimmy. "Remember when you got Cleo and Etho to spin in circles for no reason?"

"...Okay, that was pretty funny," Grian admits.

"Ooh, and when you got them to do the zombie dance," says Jimmy.

Grian shakes his head. "I can't believe no one said anything." He frowns at the place where the wolf spawner used to be.

"Yeah, pretty crazy right?" says Martyn.

Grian spins round and flinches back, letting out a shriek.

Martyn is leaning casually up against one of the trees, watching him. "Honestly Grian, I think maybe you need to reevaluate your life if Timmy controlling all your actions didn't set off any red flags with anyone," he says.

"You couldn't have let me know that was coming, Tim?" asks Grian, exasperated, staring up into the empty sky.

Jimmy is quiet for a moment longer than Grian expected. "Say hello to Martyn," he says.

"You know I don't have to do what you say anymore, right?" says Grian. "I'm fact, maybe I'll do the opposite of what you say."

"Hey, no!" cries Jimmy.

Martyn makes a quiet noise, and Grian's gaze snaps back to him. "Oh no, don't let me interrupt," he says airily.

Grian clears his throat. "...Hey, Martyn," he says awkwardly.

"Hello, Martyn," says Jimmy softly, as though Martyn will be able to hear him.

"Hello," says Martyn. He looks around, up into the sky. "Timmy still about, then?"

"Maybe," says Grian. "Why? I'm not about to pass notes for your tearful reunion, if that's what you're here for."

"Aww," says Jimmy. "Why not?"

"No," says Martyn. "You need to get rid of him."

"Hey!" cries Jimmy. "Wait, what-"

"Whatever this is," continues Martyn, "it needs to stop."

"It's not up to me," says Grian, narrowing his eyes. "I don't see what you're so upset about, though."

"You don't?" says Martyn, coolly. "Look at you. Like you're dragging his corpse around to parade before the entire server."

"I am not!" snaps Grian. "And frankly I resent the suggestion!"

"Oh yeah?" says Martyn. "What do you think you were doing, then?"

Grian glares at him. "A task!"

"Right, yeah, course." Martyn glares back. "And why'd you think the session was so calm, huh?"

Grian frowns, thrown off. "I- Wait, what?"

"What do you mean, what?" snaps Martyn. "You're the one who brought the canary back to haunt us!"

"Haunt me, you mean! And anyway, he didn't even die first this time, that was Lizzie."

"It's not just about dying first," says Martyn. "It's about what comes after. He dies, and then it all goes wrong. Everything falls apart."

"I don't know, dude, I'm doing alright." Grian shrugs.

"And then he comes back," continues Martyn pointedly, "and on a server full of reds and yellows, not a single person properly dies. You don't think that's weird?"

Grian considers, but not for long. "I don't know," He crosses his arms. "I think you're just twisting the narrative to suit what you think it should be."

"Oh, really?" Martyn scoffs. "And what does Jimmy think?"

Grian rolls his eyes. "Alright fine, Timmy, what do you think?"

There is silence.

"...Tim?" says Grian.

There is more silence.

"Well?" asks Martyn, eventually.

"I think he's gone," says Grian.

"Gone," says Martyn flatly.

"Yep," says Grian, suddenly nervous.

"Gone?" Martyn raises his voice. He looks up to glare at the clouds. "Are you serious?"

"Look," says Grian. "I don't know what you actually wanted to talk about, but-"

"Really? I had one person! One!" Martyn shouts at the sky. "And you took him, too? He was dead before! He was already dead, and then you gave him to someone else, and then you took him, again?!"

Grian shifts nervously. He's not entirely sure that Martyn's talking to him, but- "I didn't do it on purpose! It's a task, Martyn, come on! It's random chance!"

Martyn turns abruptly to look back at Grian. "It's not random." He says. His hand goes to his sword, and Grian suddenly feels rather unsafe. "It's not random. It's never random."

"Okay," says Grian, slowly inching back and away. That doesn't sound right, but it doesn't seem like the time to argue.

"You think this isn't planned?" snaps Martyn. "You think this isn't just more and more ways to mess with us? Over and over and over again?"

Grian think they mess with themselves pretty well already, but he isn't about to say that right now. He opens his mouth to respond, and-

"Grian?" Cleo's voice—oh, thank goodness. Cleo's voice carries up from the base below. "You alright up there?"

Martyn and Grian make eye contact.

"I'm good, Cleo! Could use some help, though, if you want to come up?" calls Grian.

"Kay, be there in a minute!" Cleo shouts.

Martyn narrows his eyes. "I'll see you at the end," he murmurs. "This won't last much longer."

"Probably not," Grian replies, just as quiet. "It never does."

Martyn turns to go.

Before he leaves, Grian sighs. "Jimmy told me to say hello," he says, some foolish sense of obligation forcing out the words.

Martyn pauses, but doesn't look back. After a moment, he vanishes into the trees.

Grian looks at the aftermath of the exploded end crystal. The broken shrine. The scars on his hands.

"It never does last," he says again. "Not when people do stuff like that."

#secret life spoilers #secret life smp #jimmy solidarity #grian #martyn inthelittlewood #my writing

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websterss · 1 year

Text

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝟏/𝟐 — 𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐘

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓: I have a really good fic idea! would u mind taking mine? If you have watched the Netflix series “you” then this request might seem familiar. Basically Ethan is about to stab Y/n but she quickly says she is pregnant then you can do whatever you want to.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): angst, mentions of dying, mentions of pregnancy,

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1,655

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Ethan Landry x fem!Reader

𝐀/𝐍: Hope you enjoy it love! I never fully watched the whole series, but I’ve definitely have seen that particular scene. I love Victoria Pedretti with my whole heart! lol

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐: (𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆) 𝐨𝐫 (𝐒𝐀𝐃 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆)

Fear struck every part of your body as you ran for your life. The old shrine of Ghostface trinkets and souvenirs like knives and wardrobes mocked you as you ran by the mannequins and display cases. You wouldn’t have imagined you’d be right where you were on this unlucky day. What should have been a fresh start after being almost butchered by Amber and Sam’s boyfriend Richie, well you didn’t expect to fight for your life once again, especially while at college.

You wanted a new year, a chance to leave all that was, behind you and move forward with your head held high. You wanted to fall in love…which you had. Now even that was ruined as you ran from the one person you let in. Someone you let love and cherish you in any way possible. Let him put you back together only to break you in pieces all over again. It just didn’t seem fair.

You yell out, panicking as you felt him grab you. You squirmed and wiggled in his grasp, kicking your feet out in the air as he lifted you up slightly then slammed you harshly on the ground. You gasp for air as you grow winded from the impact your back endured. You shake your head as the man you once knew became a stranger to you in mere seconds. You were scared as he stares down at you with a crazed look.

“No!” You scream as you push against his chest. “Ethan no, please!” You rasp out. Tears blind sight you, causing your vision to be blurry.

He smirks lifting a knife above you. “Remember this?” He asks. “My dad got a hold of your file you know. I knew the second I read about you that I wanted to get to know you.” He reached down and brushed some stray hairs away from your hot and sweaty forehead. Your chest rises and falls rapidly. “You were stabbed right here…” He lifts the hem of your shirt, tapping against the scar you received. “With a blade, three times might I add. God the picture they took looked nasty, but boy am I a sucker for recreations.” He chuckles darkly. “What’s three more times huh?” He goes to move the knife closer to your side.

You start to panic again as he moves his right arm to the side, getting ready to drive it past your first layer of skin. You cry holding your hands out, hoping that would be enough to stop him from hurting you physically. You were emotionally damaged by this point. “Ethan stop! Stop, stop! Stop!”

“This is for Richie, for your bitch of friend Sam for killing him! For ruining our lives!” He exclaims harshly at you. You wince, then immediately blurt out the one thing you have been excited to tell him, yet scared to do. Now it just made this whole situation worse.

“Ethan-“ You cry out.

“I should have killed you-“

“I’m pregnant!” You yell out. Your head thumping back against the hard floor. Your hands gravitate towards your stomach holding it protectively. Your face was scrunched with how hard you cried. It hurt, everything just hurt. Ethan's hands freeze in midair. Dumbfounded by your confession. “Stop, stop, stop. I-I’m pregnant!”

“You’re fucking lying!” He accuses you.

“I-I’m not…I’m not I promise!” You shake your head. “Please! Please I’m pregnant!” One hand remains on your stomach while your left hand tiredly falls limp to your side. You relax back onto the floor, waiting for the inevitable to come. Waiting to meet your end at the hands of the man you grew to love with your whole heart.

“Look at me,” Ethan instructs you to do. Your eyes open up slowly. The life drained from them as you stare up at him. The fight in you was gone. You didn’t wanna keep doing this anymore. “No, I–“ He shakes his head. He can’t wrap his head around it. His brows burrow in confusion. “Y-You’re lying!” He tears up.

“I promise you…” Another tear slips down your cheek. “I promise. I wanted to tell you…but everything turned to shit. I didn’t think you’d be one of them…” You sniffle. “It was a little over two weeks before we attended the Halloween party. You took us to your dorm.” You watch his face relax as he remembers. “I-I didn’t get my period at the time of the party when I should have…so I took a test. Three actually. All positive….” You begin to whimper as you look at the knife he’s lost his grip on. “You can go ahead and kill me if that’s what you want, I won’t be mad at you.” You offer a sad smile. “But I would’ve really liked the idea of us raising a kid together. I wanted a future you with you. I still do surprisingly.” You nod sure of yourself. “I-I won’t be mad. I’m at peace with my thoughts of you Ethan.” Ethan watched as your right hand slid down to your side this time. “M-My life rests in your hands now…”

The faint scream of the rest of the party echoed throughout the theater. He lifts his head looks around then drags you up into a sitting position with him.

“I’m gonna hide you.” He says more to himself than you as he helps you to your feet. It doesn’t take him long until he’s dragging you past the display cases. Pushing past the large screen protector sheet. You stumble over your feet trying to keep up with his pace.

“Ethan, what are you doing?” You ask him. Your head falls past your shoulder to glance behind you. You look forward again and collide into his back, you huff then feel yourself being dragged into a dark supply closet.

“Hiding you!” Ethan shuts the door behind you. The two of you are enveloped by darkness. The only light coming from the bottom of the door. Your breath hitches as a shadow moves past the door. You remain still as Ethan slowly reaches out for you. You still have your fingers looking around his own as you shift closer to each other.

You swallow your salvia down nervously as his hands shift up your arms to hold the sides of your face. Your breath shudders feeling him caress your skin slowly with his thumbs. You close your eyes as you lean into his touch. You open them back up, seeing a very faint outline of his face but the room was too dark, and turning on the light would be too risky. You had to rely on your sense of touch for now.

“Stay…” You quietly plead. “Just stay. Don’t go back out there.” You slide your hands up his arms now.

“I can’t…My dad, Quinn, they’ll know somethings up.” Ethan shakes his head even though you can’t see him do so. He leans forward and presses his head against yours. “I need you to stay in here okay? Don’t come out no matter what.”

“No–“ You begin to reject the idea.

“You need to stay.”

“No, you need to stay. Just stay.” You do your best to muffle your cries. “I have this feeling. I just feel it, okay! Once you step out the door, you won’t come back. I need you! Don’t leave me!” You breathe out harshly. “Please…” You whimper as he presses his lips to yours. You instantly move yours against his. Wanting to savor the touch of him, the feel of his skin against your fingertips, the way his hands held you with such care. You wanted it all to last, but when did anything good in your life ever truly last? The harsh reality was that it didn’t. Everything was always too good to be true. “Ethan no…” You pull away, crying out quietly. You wrap your hands around his neck, bringing his head down to touch yours.

“I’ll be back.”

“No, you won’t.” You try to control your heavy breathing.

“I will. You wanna know how I know I will.” You nod an answer. “Cause you given me something to want to stay alive for.” You feel his hands slide over your stomach. “I’m gonna be right back.” He whispers sweetly to you.

“They’re gonna kill you.” You voice your thoughts.

“Not unless I help Sam kill my dad.”

“She’ll still kill you. You stabbed Chad.” You remind him.

“Not anywhere serious. I didn’t hit any arteries or veins. He’s gonna be fine.” He brushed the thought off.

“You– You knew where to stab him?” Your voice goes quiet but sounds incredulous.

“I knew how to make you unconscious at the apartment…S’not important.” He winces, regretting opening his mouth.

“What the fuck Ethan!” You slap him over his shoulder. Your heart weighed down heavily. “God Anika…She didn’t deserve-“ You choke up, cutting yourself off. “What the fuck Ethan.”

“Nothing will fix what I’ve done okay? But I can make things right by saving them. It’s the least I can do now.” He sighs. “Just stay here. Do not come out!” He says firmly.

“If you don’t come back I’m gonna kill you…” Your empty threat makes him chuckle solemnly.

“See you in a bit okay.”

“Ethan.” Your voice trembles.

“I’ll be back. Promise.” He leans in after feeling for your cheek again with his hands and leaves a kiss on your skin sweetly. He slowly opens the door. The faint light entered through, casting a yellow highlight on his face. You catch his warm eyes for a second. He drinks in all the little details and characteristics that make you who you are. That makes him love you wholeheartedly. “I love you.” He offers a sad smile then slips past the open gap. The soft click of the door closing behind him felt like a gunshot to the chest. You just knew. You knew…he wouldn’t be coming back.

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry imagines #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry x fem!reader #scream x reader #scream vi #my gif #writings by juls

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yanderexchubbyreader · 4 months

Text

yan!boss x chubby!secretary!reader

warnings: i don’t know what warnings to put lmao, creepy behaviours, reference to stalking at the end, he spoils you, digs through your trash and then jacks off to your photo, obsessive behaviours, no harm to reader but yan!boss has a shrine

~~~

- Imagine randomly getting a job offer as a secretary in a local business office in your town

- The email made the job sound amazing. Benefits, paid vacation days, and the lovey double digit an hour pay rate was just the cake on top

- You hoped that your first day would be easy, but upon meeting your boss, you realized that you didn’t just get hired by luck

- Yan!Boss is a little obsessive over you, and that’s a fact that you easily found out in 20 minutes

- He never left your side, usually invading your bubble and asking questions about your personal life, even some things that you felt a little embarrassed to talk about

- Any business trips, meetings or luncheons, Yan!Boss always has you in tow, treating you more like his wife rather than his employee

- Hell, he even pays for your nail and hair appointments, or practically forces you to take his credit card to spoil yourself silly, as long as you pick up something nice to wear in the office

- AKA something that shows off more of your chest and neck, and preferrably something a little short on the legs, as well

- He quickly rescinded that desire, firing 7 of his employees without hesitation for ogling your body when you came in a low cut dress that landed at your mid thigh

- You’d end up wearing his suit jacket to cover yourself, but maybe that was his plan all along

- Yan!Boss has no secrets about being obsessed with you, everyone in the office sees how he follows you like a puppy dog when you step away from your desk

- But they don’t understand just how deep that obsession goes, hell, you don’t even know what goes on in his office

- Until you stepped into the space one day, trying to deliver a file to your employer, when you stumbled upon something that just turned your stomach

- Yan!Boss has a little corner of his office just for stuff that reminds him of you

- You would have thought it was cute, if it wasn’t for the fact you saw the lipstick that you had been missing for weeks

- Along with a napkin that had said lipstick blotted on it

- And what you recognized was a collection of trash that he had collected from your bin, mainly straws and chewing gum wrappers that you disposed your old gum into

- And the worst part?

- Yan!Boss was indecent, his hand wrapped around his cock as he stared at a picture of you that he had printed and framed

- As quietly as you could, you just stepped back, closing the office door and rushing to your desk to gather your things

- He came out a few moments later, looking as normal as he did on a daily basis, immediately coming to your side as he noticed you packing up

- Feigning sick, you rushed away, denying his offer to take you home while trying to keep your voice from wavering

- You put in your two weeks as soon as you got home, already having decided you weren’t returning to the office so you didn’t have to look at your boss anymore

- Well… Sucks for you that he knows your address, huh?

#chubby!reader #yan #yan x reader #yandere #yandere fanfiction #yandere fantasy #yandere fic #yandere oc #yandere x chubby reader #yandere x plussize!reader #yandere x reader #yandere boss #yandere boss x reader #plus size!reader #obsessive yandere

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mondaymelon · 1 year

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— 𝘀𝗮𝗴𝗮𝘂: 𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲, 𝗱𝗼𝗻𝘁 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘂𝘀. ♥

:feat~ alhaitham, kaveh, cyno, tighnari: (warnings~ obsessive behavior + teensy bit of angst)

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open!) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu

Lately, you've been playing a lot more Honkai Star Rail…

ALHAITHAM is jealous.

Which is new to him, as someone who just about has everything he could need. Everything, that is, except for you.

It’s nearly been a week since you last logged on.

And that scares him. He knows he should trust you, but the mere thought of you leaving him is enough to make the acting grand tremble. You are his light, and without you, he is dead - nothing.

It’s cold.

He misses your warmth. Your happy laughs and snide remarks he witnesses as you play and read through dialogue, seeing your bright smile through your front camera, all of it unbeknownst to you.

But, all this time, did that mean nothing to you?

Oh, but all of a sudden, is that you? You’re finally back! The scribe can’t hold back his smile, eyes sparkling as you start to load in. He can feel your comforting presence, something that invigorates him, such a simple thing, yet it fills him with the will to live.

Ah, but something is different.

Who’s this Dan Heng you keep mumbling about with such a… dreamy expression?

No, that couldn’t be right. That look was reserved for him only. How could you think of someone else with that gaze?

Oh, so this is what jealousy feels like.

KAVEH is baffled.

Confused. I mean, is it really all that much to make a fuss about? Sure, you haven’t logged on in a while, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything.

He’s confident that you won’t leave him! Because, after all, you said it yourself… something along the lines of “SDFJSDFKLSDJFLK I LVOE KAVEH SO MCUH FDJSGLK” ...Or, at least, that was what you had texted over the chat feature to one of your in game friends.

He adores you, so it’s only natural that he praises every word you speak!

Ah, but what’s this new game on your device?

Honkai… Star Rail?

I-Is this what you’ve been spending all your time on? Time spent without him?

But why?

It’s only then that Kaveh notices.

The new way you’ve begun to act whenever you occasionally log on, the way you’re growing distracted, the way you sigh as you collect your daily commissions, the way you barely glance at his way, almost tired of the game that he’s in…

It’s okay, Kaveh tells himself, staring at the ground. The room is dark, and he hasn’t eaten in days, body shaking.

They’ll come around again.

They always do.

CYNO is reconsidering.

All his life, he knows that what he’s been doing is in the light of justice. All his life, he’s known that he is in the right. All his life, he has not doubted his path.

Yet…

“My Eminence, where have you gone?”

The world was so barren without you. You were incomparable, the pure life that radiated from your being gave him a sense of elation that he had never experienced before. It was a honey-like feeling that was shamefully addicting.

Was it his fault that you had left? He should’ve changed for you.

Perhaps he had missed your subtle signs, perhaps you were upset at him - he had to have done something wrong, otherwise, why would this have happened?

“I’m sorry.” His distraught hands hid his expression, his crystal tears, as he knelt before his shrine to you - a secret oblation that he held in his heart, with things he treasured. A lock of your hair, a page from your notebook, a jewel pendant that you had left behind… they were such items that he disgracefully cherished.

“I’ll do better, I promise. I’ll do anything.”

So please, let me see you one more time.

TIGHNARI is acceptant.

He’s knowledgeable in so many things… the wildlife of Sumeru’s rainforest, countless antidotes… he knows the forest like the back of his hand.

Despite that, he comprehends you more. He knows what makes you smile, what makes you irritated, all of it - because he loves you, even though he knows he shouldn’t.

You’re someone that’s off limits to a person who’s as lowly as him, as insignificant. Truly, he doesn’t deserve to even be in your presence, but it’s too impossibly warm to resist. After all, the savior is just that benevolent, and your radiance blinds him.

He’s not good enough.

That’s all that can ring through his head when he’s with you. And it’s true to him, because you are perfect in his eyes, and in the eyes of the world. Yet his heart still dares to shamefully race whenever you smile.

So it only makes sense if you leave.

At first, it did come as a surprise, but not much of one. Because he knows he deserved it, and that he was never worthy of your attention in the first place.

Still, his heart aches. But if you’re content, then so is he. Who is Tighnari to argue with your divine judgment?

So, he understands. He understands that you grew tired of him.

Ah, but still, he dares hold a small shred of hope that you’ll come back to see him again.

Is that so sinful?

(a/n) i love the sumeru men too much please send help

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mrskokushibo · 1 year

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A Prayer for the Damned

Yoriichi x Fem!Reader one shot

NSFW I 18+ I MDNI I

Synopsis: Yoriichi is your best friend, but will your friendship survive the night? This is a story about transformations: of seasons, life and feelings. And Yoriichi is about to show you a side of him you never knew before.... Are you ready to worship the sun?

Warnings: Smut. Anal. Oral. Vaginal sex. Analingus. Fingering. Cockwarming. Slight size kink. MANGA SPOILER

Word count: 3908

Masterlist

Image source: wallpaperflare.com

This story was written as per the following request from the wonderful and talented ❤❤❤ @muzanswaifu:

Can I get a yorrichi smut bestie with a fem! reader?

And i really liked the tension from your last fic where koku was mad at reader so for this fic can you flip it and make reader mad at yorrichi for doing something negligent to her and hurting her feelings?

It doesnt have to be that prompt tho, any yorrichi smut will satisfy me ❤️❤️❤️ love u

As he was walking toward his friend’s house on the outskirts of town, Yoriichi could not help but contemplate the change in the air that his favourite season was slowly bringing about. There was always something special about autumn, something that resonated with his calm and thoughtful personality. Vegetation burst into fiery reds and warm oranges and yellows, all the shades of flame, as if to mark its inevitable transition into death and winter. An affirmation that there was no life without death, no rebirth into spring without going through the natural process. Just like the human soul. And tonight, the air was finally cool enough to absorb both the smell of withering nature as well as the fires carried from human dwellings, all blending into an intoxicating scent.

Normally all this would make him at ease, but tonight he was unable to enjoy any of it. His thoughts were occupied by something he never thought possible, a tragedy so unimaginable that one would think could only happen in tales told to children on dark winter nights. His beloved brother turned into a demon. His heart was full of sorrow and regret, he was on the verge of hating himself. There were ways of preventing what happened, so many choices- his choices, that led to this. He could have been firmer, but also more understanding with Michikatsu, not be foolish to trust that somehow, he didn't really harbour such jealousy toward Yoriichi after all. But how can you defy sibling love; because he loved his brother and he chose to believe that Michikatsu, somewhere deep under the layers of bitterness and spite, loved him too. Twins share a special bond after all.

He finally reached his destination, but before entering the house, he stopped and looked up at the sky. The moon was a bright crescent, with thin veils of smoke and clouds obscuring parts of it and giving it a reddish hue. The sky was shifting purple, the same purple that adorned Michikatsu’s clothes and that also was the colour of his eyes. Staring at the moon, Yoriichi could not help but think of the ancient legend of Tsukuyomi and Amaterasu, the gods of Sun and Moon, that were tied up in an endless battle.

'Is this what is going to become of us, brother?’

*****

Only a few candles illuminated the otherwise dark room, incense smoke, and cooking vapour swirled intertwined through the air as if performing an intricate dance. A small figure knelt in front of a shrine at the far end of the room.

You held your face in your hands, dried-up tears stinging your eyes and skin.

‘Ancestors, I pray to you, wherever he is, please look after him, look after his soul.’

You knew that he was now bound for hell…. if anyone ever managed to kill him. Michikatsu has always been the one you were attracted to, in contrast to his stoic brother, he was more open and livelier, his eyes always lit by a spark, a subtle disclosure of a fire hiding beneath the tamed and friendly surface. He smiled more than Yoriichi too. But the two of you were not friends, neither did you want friendship only…When he left his wife and children to join the corps, you explained his behaviour by him being forced into a loveless, arranged marriage. By the way, the family he left behind was well looked after, with the entire estate being written over to them, thus securing their and even their prospective descendants’ future. All these excuses for his misdeeds were now coming back at you with full force.

There was one other you blamed even more than yourself: Yoriichi. His lack of resolve and action, his indolence, was what led to this. You were convincing yourself of it. Your feelings were connected by a pendulum swinging between anger and grief. And how do you even grieve someone who is not dead, who is … undead…

Your thoughts were interrupted by shoji door sliding softly. It was Yoriichi. He slid the door closed just as gently as he opened it and walked towards you with floorboards creaking under the weight of his tall body. He stopped a few steps away from you so as not to disturb you in your prayers. It was Wednesday, the day of your weekly dinner together. You were close friends since childhood and he was one of the most reliable people you have ever met. Always patient and with a soft manner. But now, your fury was blinding you, almost undoing the bond the two of you shared. You slowly stood up and turned around to face him, using all your willpower to restrain yourself from lashing out at him.

‘Are you all right (y/n)?’ he asked in his deep hushed voice.

‘I do not know, I really don’t know, Yori. Are you?’

He looked away without answering. The flickering of candlelight reflected in his nearly expressionless maroon eyes. You walked around him toward the firepit to check on the food that was simmering gently over the comforting heat.

‘I am sorry, but dinner will be very simple tonight. I just did not have the energy to make anything elaborate.’

‘That is perfectly fine (y/n). You know I am not fussy, and besides, you were very busy recently.’

*Very busy recently* what the hell *why is he dancing around the topic like this? * you thought, your aggression going up a notch.

In silence, you started plating the food. You passed him the plates and cutlery and he placed them on the table.

‘Would you like something stronger to drink? I know I do’ you asked.

He nodded in approval and sat down on the tatami in front of his plate. You grabbed the bottle of rice wine, and two cups and followed suit. You both ate in silence while you kept on filling up your cups with the strong drink. Due to his sheer size and muscle mass, the alcohol had very little effect on him, but you were getting drunk. Well, not the type of losing all control drunk, but drunk enough to no longer care to have restraint.

After dinner, he insisted to clean up while you sat with the drink in your hand. The alcohol was making your brain fog up. You even caught yourself watching him in a way you normally would not watch a friend. He was a man after all, and a gorgeous one at that, with the same perfectly symmetrical facial features and the tall and muscular body as Michi. And yet so different. Despite his stoic behaviour and calm eyes, his aura was like fire, the red mark on his face, maroon eyes and black hair with flame-red highlights, and his clothes to match. A warmth started to spread down your belly. You had to suppress this, it was so wrong to lust for a friend, and for someone that you now were so cross with. The mixture of embarrassment and anger was explosive enough to make you leap up to him suddenly.

‘How can you be so unmoved by it all? Are you not human? It is your fault he turned into a demon. You could have prevented this from happening, but of course, you did not. It would disturb your sacred peace, Gods forbid’. You were now beyond caring and were ready to say anything that came to your mind.

‘(Y/n), please stop. Not tonight. I am just as moved by this as you are. Believe me, but I think we should sleep on it and talk tomorrow when you are more, well, reasonable.’

He was now just about to walk away, presenting you with the silent treatment that you by now were familiar with being his irritating way of handling or rather avoiding conflict and confrontation.

This was the last drop you needed to push you over the edge. You lunged forward to slap him in the face, but you did not even manage to swing halfway when his reflexes kicked in and he caught your hand, firmly but gently. You lost your balance and fell forward, the stopping point being Yoriichi. You literally fell into his chest and instead of pulling away, you stayed there, as if paralysed. This was the first time you ever had such close physical contact with him. Due to his reserved manner you never even exchanged so much as a hug. Being this close now made you realise the enormous size difference between you two. His stature was imposing, solid with broad shoulders and strong hips. You could not help but imagine what it would feel like to have him doing things to you…

The intoxication was making you weak, you really could not move away now, or maybe subconsciously, you simply didn’t want to. Being so close to him, his warmth and smell started to bring memories of Michi and you just wanted to stay like this a while longer imagining it was him instead. Yoriichi’s hips were on the level of your belly, the bulge in his hakama growing from the close contact. And that is where you snapped. Why be so decent and proper when you were pent up with anger, an unfulfilled desire for Michi, and whatever else that was driving you crazy? All these emotions went straight to your sex. You started rubbing his hardening cock through the fabric of his hakama and went down on your knees to start taking it off him, yanking unkindly on the belts holding it up.

All that time Yoriichi was completely still, shocked at your willingness to change things so recklessly between you, what he thought was a beautiful friendship. When you went down on your knees, he could not help himself anymore. He grabbed your head between his hands and tilted it so that he could look you in the eye.

‘Stop! This is not the way I want to fu…´He whispered embarrassed with what he was just about to say.

Yes, he desired you for a while now, but he respected you too much to ever entertain the idea. Tonight though, your anger, the alcohol, and the oppressive atmosphere of this autumn night created a chain reaction impossible to stop. He helped you up and took your hand, the look in his eyes changed.

‘Come’ he said quietly, his deep soft voice sounding with a promise of something you never imagined would happen. You followed him to the bedroom.

Well in the bedroom he stopped just next to the futon and leaned down to you and slowly started kissing you. He was gentle, the kisses like a flutter of butterfly wings, continuing down your neck and chest, he was now on his knees opening your kimono and continuing to kiss down your breasts and then your belly. He did not even touch your erect nipples or aching groin yet, but you were already overflowing with need. Your clothes fell to the ground while he resorted to sitting down to get comfortable access between your legs. He kissed your folds while caressing your back and buttocks. And that is when he suddenly parted the soft flesh of your labia and started licking you between them. Simultaneously, he reached up to your breasts and started to slowly roll one of your nipples between his fingers. A loud moan left your lips, your pussy leaking onto his tongue.

You started tugging at his kimono, desperate to see his naked torso. He complied and soon you were able to finally admire him in the privacy of your own home. And it was a sight for sore eyes… You were sliding your hands across his torso, feeling the broad neck and the hard triangle of his shoulders, his bulky biceps, toned pecs and abs, and the perfect triangle running down to his groin. Your insatiable hunger for his magnificent body was growing by the minute and you craved to see what was hiding in his hakama. You had an idea from when you stumbled into him, but still. You needed to see it, touch it, feel it inside you.

Sitting in front of you like this was not the most comfortable of positions, so he directed you slowly to the futon until you were laying down with his head between your legs. He was rubbing you up and down your inner thighs and pushing your legs toward your torso to grant himself better access to you, until he was comfortably positioned to focus on diving into your sex. Tongue tracing up and down, lapping up our slick. He alternated licking with sucking on your clit, just lightly at first to get you used to it, but eventually harder and harder as your arousal intensified. It was as if he could read your body, and most likely he could, possessing extraordinary senses and access to the transparent world. Your moans pointed him in the direction of the most efficient moves. You could feel his warm breath on your cunt and you were slowly losing yourself.

You started bucking your hips to rub yourself on his mouth, but strong hands stopped you and pushed your hips down, instead, he started copying your movement by using his tongue. He was licking in circles around your clit, faster and faster and faster, with increasing pressure on the swollen nerve bundle. His fingers were deep in your pussy, rubbing firmly on your g-spot. And then you felt the indescribable pleasure of a finger tracing around your asshole. A throaty moan left your mouth, this was so dirty. He rubbed harder around your rear entrance while thrusting his fingers into your sopping pussy and running circles with his tongue around your clit. All through this he was basically completely silent, only releasing a heavy sigh now and then. Occasionally, he would lift his gaze to meet yours.

With every lick of his tongue around your sensitive bud, the knot in your belly was being wound up tighter and tighter. All of a sudden, he inserted a finger into your asshole, adding to your already intense pleasure. You were now losing all control of yourself. The knot finally burst and you squirted your juices all over his face in the most intense orgasm you have ever experienced. Your legs were shaking from the overstimulation as he kept on tracing circles around your clit. Eventually, he took mercy on you and stopped, wiping your cum from his face with his forearm. His narrowed eyes looked up at you and in the faint light of the candle, the red pupils had almost an intensity of a demonic gaze.

Without losing eye contact, he started removing his hakama. You swallowed when his cock sprang out freely. It was huge, long, and thick, with a slight curve, pale on the shaft with a bright red tip, and it looked like it had some weight to it, not surprisingly since he was so tall and solid. In the hazy state, you were in, the words that left your mouth came out almost automatically.

‘Yori, fuck my ass...’

You knew this would hurt, but right now, physical pain was all you wanted, all you needed to numb the inner fury that was ravaging you. He did not say anything in response. His eyes narrowed a little, but he knew you well enough to see when you meant business, and he was about to respect your wish.

So just like that, he got up and said ‘I will only be a second.’ And quickly left the room.

You could hear him rummage through the pantry and a few moments later he was back with a bottle of oil. Your pelvic muscles contracted in renewed arousal. So, he was up for it… You turned around and lay down on your stomach. He climbed on the bed and placed himself between your legs. His hands massaging your ass and spreading your buttocks, you could hear him open the bottle and soon oil was running down your lower back and onto your soft cheeks. With determined movement, he was spreading the oil all over your ass, fingers circling closer and closer to your asshole, his mouth kissing and tongue licking around the sensitive opening. Oiled finger started to claim entry to your puckering hole, first one, then two, then three, and finally you could feel the tip of his cock starting to push against the opening. He was going slowly, with excessive amounts of oil as a lubricant, sliding in his cock into you, for what it felt like a very long time. You were squirming in pleasure at the new sensation.

When he finally bottomed out, he stopped.

‘Are you ready?’

You nodded in reply. He then began to pump his cock inside you. The pace was extremely slow at the start, but once he felt you relaxed, he started to pump harder and faster. His movements were steady and precise.

‘Come inside me’ your voice almost commanding.

You wanted to be sore, you wanted the rush of this. He shifted to hover straight over the top of you, his whole body in plank position, supported on his powerful arms, hammering his cock from straight above you. You could hear his breath speed up and sweat drops now falling on your back. His hips hitting your soft butt cheeks emitted a quiet slapping sound. A strong thrust later and he emptied the content of his balls into your ass. His after spasm made his whole body shake and he pulled out gently out of you.

‘Wait here, I need to clean myself up, I will bring some towels for you too.’ When he was ready, he came back with a damp hot towel and cleaned your still pulsing hole.

He then slumped on his back next to you. You turned around to your side to face him. You could not stop feasting your eyes on the sight that was in front of you. The smooth skin stretched so perfectly over his strong muscles, now all covered with small droplets of sweat, his long mane spread out around him. You were getting addicted to this, you understood now why women behaved so awkwardly around him, giving him hungry looks that he never reciprocated. Were you blind all that time? Well, I guess back then you foolishly convinced yourself that Michi was the one for you, and well, they were so alike, being twins. But now, you were realising that appearance alone was not all that made Yoriichi so intoxicating to you. His inner fire, so well hidden away, was hotter than anything that Michi ever possessed.

You were growing wild, cautiously you crept closer to him and cuddled up to his side, slowly embracing his chest with your arm. You then started to massage his chest, your hand slowly sliding down toward his groin. You were now massaging his large hips, avoiding his cock for now, teasing, mostly yourself as all you wanted was to grab hold of his delicious cock. He closed his eyes, enjoying the treatment you were gifting him. You ran out of patience with yourself and started stroking his cock. You grabbed it, pumping up and down the entire thick length. You then got up on all four and started to lick his veiny shaft. You could finally taste him and the salty precum was making you delirious, heat spreading in your stomach, increasing the ache you felt deep in your cunt.

As your arousal was getting stronger again, you were faced with a dilemma. On one hand, you really wanted him to come in your mouth, but at the same time, you were desperate for your own release. You sensed that one more orgasm could make him drained, as emotionally exhausted as he must have been after the week’s events. What if his rebound time got too long or he was not even willing to go again? No, you decided to fulfill your own needs, the first orgasm coming from your clit only, you needed a deeper sensation, you needed to be shaken out of the haze, and clear your thoughts.

You sucked his cock for a little while longer, swallowing it all the way to the hilt, your tongue drawing small circles on the sensitive tip. Yoriichi was moaning quietly, with his deep voice turning hoarse every time you sunk your head on his length. With a last lewd lick to the veiny underside, you shifted yourself and straddled him. Hovering your ass over his groin, you grabbed hold of his erect cock and started slowly lowering yourself on him, savouring the sensation of his generous member stretching every crevice and fold of your insides, making you feel fuller than you could ever imagine possible. He was now all the way to the balls in your throbbing pussy.

The look in his eyes was pure lust, the maroon now so dark under half-closed lids, that it almost made his pupils look black. You started riding him, your breasts bouncing, making him fixate his intense gaze on your soft mounds. His hands were now resting on your waist and soon he started to slide them all over you, feeling your back, and ass, and finally grabbed both of your breasts, squeezing them roughly, so they formed perfect circles with a delightful cleavage in between. You started to slowly reach the peaks of your ecstasy, you were slamming yourself harder and harder on his groin. As your movements intensified, he began pinching your nipples and that turned you into overdrive. Your walls clamping on him, his hands pinching both nipples, the relentless pace of your own hips, faster, harder, you were so close now.

Your climax came from deep inside your spasming cunt and you screamed. The sensation lasted long enough to make you almost pass out, trembling with aftershocks of the extreme pleasure you just experienced. The sheets under you were now soaked, you must have squirted all over him. While you were slumped on top of Yoriichi, he started working toward his own release. His strong hips were now bucking up into you, thrusting his cock deep into your slick-filled insides. Obscene, wet, and sloppy sounds of flesh pounding flesh, your moans and his heavy breathing were filling the room. You felt his cock swell inside you and you were soon filled with the warmth of his semen coating your clenching walls. Exhausted, covered with sweat and cum, his cock still inside you, you both fell asleep in each other’s arms.

*****

The first rays of the morning sun peeking through the window shine on the two lovers still sleeping in the same embrace they slumped into from the peaks of their climax. As the day wipes away the dark of night and the Sun outshines the Moon, so does love conquer fear and grief. This was heaven, him, the man you knew for so long and yet never knew well enough until last night. All thoughts of Michikatsu washed away now, it was only Yoriichi that mattered. If the two of you were forced to leave this place, then so be it. You were his if he wanted you to be. You understood that bathing in the rays of his warm aura and worshipping his body in return for the light, was something you could do for the rest of your days. You knew he was to become your everything. He was…

…. your Sun.

----------------------------------------------------------

As always, a big thank you to my peeps for providing daily inspiration:

@muzanswaifu @doumadono @muzansfangs @koku-shibou @kokusfluffyhair @dudeandduchess @ask-the-upper-moons @paintoreos @yoriichiitsugikuni @koyuki-the-flower @fuckkyourlife @nakimex @dahliamalfoy97 @chibi-koku @sunsblaze @angelltheninth @xxsabitoxx @ask-yoriichi @doumaslotus

Reblogs and feedback are welcome!!

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were-changing-cake-vaults · 2 months

Text

Doc is really, really, really tired of getting dragged into things.

That’s the problem with this server: he tries to do his own thing, but people cannot leave him alone. No matter what he does to deter them, whether that be harmless threat or psychological warfare, they always come back to dance on his metaphorical lawn. Or actual lawn. Or precious one-of-a-kind bush.

And at this point, he thought he had gotten used to all the shenanigans. He doesn’t want to be the grumpy old man amongst his friends and colleagues, so Doc tries to laugh it off, not take it so seriously. Occasionally, he’ll even join in on the jokes and put a little extra pizzazz into his mannerisms. Doc has his limits, of course, everyone does, but he’s been working on pushing those limits further for the past while.

So when Beef makes the joke about Big Salmon on day one, he joins in on it for the moment. It’s a good joke, really. It gets a hearty laugh out of him more than once. The joke is made, people laugh, Doc is included, he moves on and goes back to doing his own thing.

Honestly, he doesn’t even remember what he said. The joke should’ve been a one-and-done, forgotten after a week’s time. Whatever he said should’ve been inconsequential. Should be. Beef’s not one to drag out a bit for that long, usually, but here he is, dressed as a salmon and saying he got emails from a fish. Doc is utterly clueless throughout most of it- he doesn’t even understand what constituted him getting dragged in this time. And the way Beef and Skizz are talking is scaring him, just a little bit. Skizz is too aggressive, Beef is laying down the charmspeak, and both of their eyes are glossy and strange. There’s a hollow echo in the room.

But Doc, absurd as this is, plays along. Watches as one of his villagers gets killed. Lets nervous laughter through as he’s given 10 salmon heads, and leaves. When he gets back to his base out in the middle of nowhere, he realizes that these aren’t normal salmon heads, they’re worse: deformed, many-eyed, slimy and reeking of rot. And while this isn’t the strangest thing Doc has seen, as far as he knows, Beef isn’t one for game-breaking like he is. The deformities on the heads don’t even look player made. Whatever this is, it’s bizaarre, and it’s not something Doc wants to be involved in.

Then the whispers start.

He doesn’t do what he’s asked—build a shrine for whatever Big Salmon is—initially. He lets it be for a bit, shrugs it off, and keeps building. But it’s hard to focus when you can’t sleep—in his dreams he’s drowning, sinking deeper and deeper, sea life surrounding him and screaming and he’s screaming too as a pair of eyes stare him down—and when you can’t get a moment of quiet. He keeps hearing that damn slapping sound and little nothings about shrine schematics, block pallets, glorious statues. The air starts reeking of rot, far more than a swamp should. Strange slime crawls up the scaffolding that he keeps slipping on.

And this is why Doc is tired: Big Salmon is not his first rodeo. This isn’t the first time something has grabbed hold of his soul and tried to puppeteer it to his own demise. This isn’t even the scariest thing he’s come across- he still dreams of watching himself rip his own arm off. He knows gods and entities like he knows redstone, all the intricacies of magic that weave through the universe. They want to be satisfied, satiated. Doc will not give whatever Big Salmon is that satisfaction, not for long.

So he puts up with the rot, the slime, the dreams. Keeps the salmon heads, perpetually grotesque, in a chest where he can see them. Gives them a minuscule in: blueprints are crafted of the shrine he is meant to build, dying leaves are placed and waterlogged, copper is bent and formed into a worthless statue. The sky is cloudy. The sky has been cloudy all week, swamp air thick with the smell of rotting fish. He gives Beef a call, tells him to bring Skizz along.

When what should be Doc’s friend arrives, he is more fish than man. The tinnitus-like whisper of the thing trying to get him reaches a roar as he gives Beef a look over- there is no telling where the suit ends and the skin begins, all scaled, slimy and opalescent. Skizz, on the contrary, is looking relatively normal; the only strange thing about him are his glazed over eyes. Something about that makes Doc queasy about his plan, but he swallows the bile rising in his throat and steels himself, forces himself to be calm. This is not his first rodeo.

Doc’s faked smile doesn’t fail him as he leads Beef and Skizz to the statue. It doesn’t fail him as he hands the last rotting head to Beef for him to place, on top of an over-polished button. His grin only widens as Skizz counts down his boss pressing the button.

With a single button press, the voices that have taken residence in Doc’s head are wiped out, as are Skizz and Beef: bloody…fish…bits fly high into the sky when they fall into the exploding trap. There is a deafening boom, and then there is Doc, unscathed, laughing wickedly, organic eye sparkling with mania. Gods never win against him. There is no winning against the goat.

And finally, with the threat of Big Salmon defeated, Doc can finally rest. After all, he is incredibly tired.

#woosh writes #oceans calling au #docm77 #hermitcraft au #hermitcraft #FINALLY! ITS FUCKING DONE!!!!#HOLY FUCK THIS TOOK ME FOREVER #I am so sorry this took as long as it did- a bajillion irl things happened and that delayed my writing significantly #ANYWAYS. [SCREAMS]

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ieatstarsforaliving · 7 months

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The Fucking Fight Club (2)

Summary: Hazel tries to control her powers during the first fight club. But because she's a loser, she fucks up. A lot.

Pairing: Spider-Woman!Hazel Callahan x Classmate!Reader

Warnings: Mature language, use of (Y/N), mild violence, mentions of bruises and blood

Word Count: 3866

Note: Okay I know I gave y'all the first chapter yesterday but you guys surprised me with so much likes, I quickly whipped up the next chapter. The ending is kind of bad but lmfao idc. It's extra long cause I probably can't write until next weekend due to fucking midterms. I wish I could drop out and write fanfics all day long. But life is unfair to the gays. - Bia <3

“Okay, before we actually do this, I want Hazel to practice controlling her punches.”

Josie had dragged PJ and Hazel to a hiking trail in the nearest forest. This wouldn’t have been mandatory if Hazel didn’t have the super-strength to murder a human with a single blow, but since she did, Josie wasn’t about to let the feminist self-defense fight club happen without a bit of rehearsal.

“Fine, mom.” PJ rolled her eyes. She was used to Josie’s dramatic cautiousness, but this seemed like a waste of time. She turned to Hazel and offered her face. “Hazel, just relax, and punch me.”

Hazel did a double take. “Punch… punch you?”

“Okay, I don’t like that tone. I know how to take a punch. Something people would always say is ‘PJ knows how to take a punch.’ Come on up.”

“PJ, she literally beat up a grown man with metal octopus arms last week. And the week before that, a man made of indestructible sand. You remember that? On the news? You might know how to take a punch, but you don’t know how to take her punch.”

“That’s why we’re practicing!”

“I meant like practice on a tree or something.” Josie waved towards the nearest tree, standing about 25 feet tall. “Hit a tree, Hazel.”

Hazel shrugged, before pulling back and punching into the middle of the tree. In a split second, the tree quaked under the assault, its massive frame crackling under the exact spot of Hazel’s fist. The bark gave away first, exploding outward in a radial pattern. When she retracted her hand, there was a massive dent on the thick body of the tree, jagged fault lines extending from the center of the impact.

PJ’s eyes widened. “Holy fuck. That could have been my face.”

Josie shook her head. “Okay, so, obviously, you have to calm down. By a lot. Try the same thing, but like, weaken it?”

Hazel nodded. She then gently tapped the tree with her fist.

Josie shook her head again. “That was clearly too weak.”

Hazel sighed. “I don’t know if I can do this, guys. I’m so used to punching psychopathic criminals who want to kill me, so I’m always using at least 90% of my strength.”

“Which is why I brought this.” Josie pulled out a piece of paper from her bag. It turned out to be your face printed on an A4 sheet with a speech bubble that read, ‘punch me!’ “Now, hear me out—”

“-Actually, this is brilliant,” PJ said, taking the paper from Josie’s hands. She taped it to the tree and presented it to Hazel. “Imagine the tree is (Y/N). She’s standing in front of you. She’s sexy, she's wearing a bikini, she’s ready to learn, and she’s asking you to punch her. What do you do?”

Hazel stared at the tree with your face on it. In spite of this entire scenario being outrageously stupid, Hazel’s eyes fixated on the piece of paper, trying to immerse herself in your 2D face. It seemed to be a copy from last year’s yearbook, one that she had spent many hours staring at. She felt weirdly guilty as she wrinkled her eyebrows.

“I don’t really want to punch her.”

“Well, you have to! This is for feminism!” PJ groaned when she saw the hesitancy in Hazel’s face. “Hazel, women like strong, protective people. Why do you think there’s a hulk shrine in the girl’s second floor bathroom? You punch (Y/N) straight in the face, and she’ll immediately fall in love with you.”

“Well–”

“-She will, Josie.”

Hazel nodded. It was worth a try. If she wanted to wrestle with you in this club, she had to try. With a measured breath, Hazel extended her arm, fingers curling into a tight fist. She delivered a punch, focusing on her strength rather than causing harm. The moment of impact was firm but gentle, almost considerate towards the tree’s bark. It was as if the tree had barely registered the encounter, although its leaves were left shaking. She turned to her friends.

“Perfect,” PJ whispered, her eyes glistening in awe. “Let’s go beat some bitches up.”

“Not how I’d word it,” Josie muttered.

That afternoon, you were taking a hike in the same forest with Isabel and Brittany. It was quite calming, walking and talking with your friends in the middle of a beautiful forest. Birds were chirping, winds were breezing– And you guys were completely alone, since nobody really came here, and if they did, it was usually after sunset to do drugs and film porn.

The three of you reached the midpoint of the trail to take a small break, when Brittany pointed at a nearby tree.

“Hey, isn’t that…”

You followed her finger to a tall tree that seemed to be beaten up by someone, with its bark splintered and smashed by a form of impact. And in the middle of its trunk, was a photo of you, with a speech bubble that read ‘punch me!’.

Your heart dropped.

“Oh my god, (Y/N), somebody wants to kill you,” Isabel gasped. She walked up to the tree and ripped the paper off. “Isn’t this from our yearbook?”

You reached out to take the paper from Isabel’s hand and inspected it closely. It was indeed a page from the previous year’s yearbook, with your smiling face captured in a freeze-frame moment of your junior days. The speech bubble, however, had been added later, which meant that someone had deliberately printed your face, edited it, and pinned it to a tree to violently punch it out.

You felt a chill down your body. Who could have done this? You knew it was hard to be friends with everyone from school– but who would despise you enough to do this vicious and also slightly weird property damage to nature?

“We should report it or something, like to a park ranger,” Brittany offered, sensing your panic.

“No, They’re just going to tell us not to come back here wearing shorts,” You sighed. There were no cameras on the trail or anything, and the park rangers were men who were probably going to comment on your appearance instead of the actual problem at hand. “I have to do something about this by myself.”

You needed protection. No, you needed to learn how to protect yourself. You needed teachers who could help you protect yourself from evil highschool men.

You needed Hazel Callahan.

You turned to your friends with a determined face, masking your fear before saying;

“Do you guys want to join a self-defense club with me?”

Isabel and Brittany paused, exchanged glances, then nodded.

“What the fuck. These girls are ugly.”

It was the first club meeting for the feminist self-defense fight club, and there were exactly 8 girls waiting in the gym. Absolutely no sign of you. Hazel laid on the gym mats, trying not to show her disappointment. She reached for her phone, staring at your number in her contacts. She never got to texting you because she was panicking over what to say one night, and was busy fighting off muggings and carjackings every other night.

“Are you stressed? Cause I’m stressed,” Josie muttered, as the advisor for the club hopped in, earning a sharp breath from Hazel.

“Hey, ladies! Let’s get it poppin’ in this motherfucker.”

Hazel blinked. Mr. G was the advisor for this club?

This was going to be absolutely horrendous.

“Alright, uhm… hello, everybody,” Josie tried, looking around the gym filled with girls jumping on trampolines, hula-hooping, scooting, and balance-balling. “Okay, excuse me, sorry, I feel- sorry–”

“-EVEVRYBODY SHUT THE FUCK UP.” PJ hit the floor with a broom, each collision echoing through the space with a ‘BANG’.

“This isn’t a little hangout, okay? Oh it’s not a sleepover or playtime. There are serious rules that we need to establish, okay?

“First? Listen to Hazel.”

Hazel lifted her hand in a subtle gesture.

“Second? Be on time. Except for you,” PJ pointed to Mr. G. “You come whenever you want. What time is it?”

“3:30–-”

“-3:30! Club starts at 3:15. Not 3:16, not 3:17. But the door closes at 3:15. No exceptions!”

Hazel smiled. Other than the fact that they were the ones who were actually late, PJ was doing amazing, putting authority towards the three girls and setting the ambiance. PJ could be a menace sometimes most of the time, but when she wanted to get shit done, she got shit done. Hazel was almost too distracted by PJ’s rant—

“-I don’t care, if you’re like, oh, but I had to go get extra help for math because I need to get a full ride because my mom lives in a trailer and she loves her boyfriend more than me, bleh blah blarh blargh– Shut up. My dad left me and I’m incredibly punctual–”

–That she didn’t even notice you walking into the gym with Isabel and Brittany following closely behind. When she did notice, her heart seemed to pick up speed, her lips curling into a smile even without realizing. Josie recognized the smile– one that Hazel only had when she was talking about her crush— and Josie turned around, motioning to PJ that the holy trinity had entered the gym.

Your eyes met with Hazel’s, and you waved in acknowledgement. She almost dropped her notebook as she looked around to check if you were waving to someone else, and then she fumblingly waved back. You giggled. Hazel had this face that effortlessly radiated innocent charm. You weren’t sure why, but you were drawn to her slightly nerdy demeanor. (it’s called being gay)

“Hey, guys. Come on in,” PJ rasped. “Uh… we’re just getting started here.”

You walked to Hazel and stood beside her. “Sorry we’re late,” you apologized.

The three girls shook their heads. “Don’t worry about it—”

“-Uhm, the rules were for next week, but this week is good–”

“-Yeah, no worries, take it easy.”

Annie seemed confused. “Okay, I just want to make sure– This is a self-defense class, right? Where we can learn to protect ourselves against football players.”

“And the criminals that Spider-Woman has been fighting? Cause, uhm, crime rate has been going up so criminals are gonna pork us. They’re gonna pork us.”

“I thought we were fighting each other for money. There’s a cash prize, right?”

“I thought this was to be a part of like a local, underprivileged female community.”

“My identity is completely attached to hers so I just go wherever she goes.”

“I thought I could learn how to protect myself. Cause I’m pretty sure someone’s trying to kill me,” You added.

“What?” Hazel turned, her eyes filled with worry.

“Everyone’s here for a good reason!” Josie laughed. “So, you know, why are we nitpicking reasons?”

“Yeah! So, let’s jump in. Hazel, why don’t you take it away?”

“Uh.”

PJ and Josie stepped back and began clapping. Everyone else followed along into a scattered and confused applause. Hazel walked to the front, opening up her notebook to the page reading ‘Self-Defense Club.’

“Okay. Hi. I’m Hazel. And I’m going to teach you guys how to fight. Maybe throw some punches. Some kicks.”

There was a bit of silence, maybe a single cough. PJ spoke up.

“(Y/N), since you’re closest to Hazel, why don’t you volunteer and step up?”

You shrugged. “Sure.”

You weren’t completely sure what was going on or how exactly Hazel was going to teach self-defense, but you dropped your backpack to the floor and walked towards Hazel, who looked incredibly afraid of what was going to happen next. She looked over your shoulders to PJ and Josie.

PJ mouthed the words, ‘Punch her. She’s the tree. Punch her.’

Hazel sent signals through her eyes meaning, ‘I can’t– I’m not gonna punch her.’

PJ continued to mouth the words, ‘Punch her. Hulk shrine. Imagine her wearing a bikini.’

Hazel’s face contorted with disbelief, her eyebrows raised in surprise, and her mouth slightly agape. Was she actually going to punch the girl that she’d been crushing on for years? Was this really the way to do it? She tried to ignore PJ who was now mouthing ‘punch your virginity away’ and instead curled her hands into fists, imagining the tree, the print-out of your face saying ‘punch me!’, you wearing a bikini, your smile, your wave, your eyes, your body—

-While you stood beside her, wondering why Hazel looked like she was about to shit herself. You began to open your mouth to ask if she was okay.

“Hazel—”

—And she flung her fist to your face.

You didn’t even register what had happened until a sharp burst of pain radiated from your nose, and you found yourself laying on the floor of the gym. You heard gasps and shouts and something about Mr. G trying to shut the club down (“Hey hey hey hey hey– I don’t know about this shit-”) as you slowly sat up, tasting liquid metal. The pain began to spread to the rest of your face as your eyes blurred up, leaving you momentarily stunned and struggling to regain your composure.

“Fuck, (Y/N)- I’m so sorry-” a horrified voice rang in front of you, and you felt a warm hand against your cheek. The hand seemed to be shaking, and you wiped your hazy eyes to see Hazel kneeling beside you, her expression embedded with guilt. “Oh my god. Oh my god.”

“You didn’t even warn her!” Annie screamed.

PJ shrugged. “Okay, we didn’t get warnings in juvie. Juvie was way crazier. One time, this girl’s punching me in the rain. Fall to my knees. It’s muddy. I get up– I’m blind. Punch her right in the middle of her face. Broke her fucking nose.”

“Pretty sure Hazel broke (Y/N)’s nose too,” Annie grumbled.

Isabel hurriedly handed you a couple of paper towels as Mr. G pushed the crowd to assess the situation.

“Let me see her,” Mr. G ordered, gasping when he saw the amount of blood coming from your nose. “Oh, shit, man, we gotta shut this down.”

“No, No—”

“-Shut this shit down. Shut it down—”

“-No, Don’t blow the whistle– Don’t blow the whistle!” Josie yelled. Everyone went silent, turning their attention from you to Josie. “I know that, you know– this is a little messy and bloody right now— Hazel, can you take (Y/N) to the nurse’s office– but like, the only way that we can learn how to defend ourselves is by teaching each other.”

Josie continued on with her little speech as Isabel and Brittany offered to take you to the nurse. But Hazel denied their help, rambling something about how this was all her fault. She picked you up fairly easily to your surprise, bridal style, and carried you out of the gym. You clutched onto her and rested your aching face into her stomach, feeling embarrassed.

When you arrived at the office, the nurse had gone home already, leaving Hazel to place you on the examination bed and find the medical kit. She seemed really anxious as you touched your face, your hand coming back dripping in red.

“God, juvie really taught you how to punch, huh,” You joked, battling your agony with humor. Hazel didn’t laugh. Instead she grabbed a cloth and ran it under the sink water, indulging the silence. You tried again. “Hazel.”

It was ignored once again as Hazel kneeled in front of you and started cleaning your face, her thumb gently holding your chin. She was very obviously avoiding your gaze with the best of her ability.

“Hazel, look at me.”

Hazel finally looked up to your eyes. She looked like a child knowing that she was about to be reprimanded or put on time out— and you almost felt sorry for Hazel, even though you were the one bleeding out. She seemed to grimace as you opened your mouth, getting ready to be shouted at. But instead, you asked;

“Why didn’t you message me?”

Hazel paused.

“I gave you my number. You didn’t message me,” You said again, completely serious. “You don’t like me?”

“No, I like you!” Hazel exclaimed. Her cheeks turned into a shade of pink as she tried to reword the sentence. “I mean, I don’t don’t like you, I… I’m really sorry. I wasn’t sure if you even wanted to come to the club, and I’m sure you don’t want to anymore-”

“-No, I want to.” You interrupted. “I mean, my face hurts like a bitch, but… it was a solid punch. And I really do need to learn how to defend myself like that. I think someone’s trying to kill me, so I want to be ready.”

Hazel cocked her head. “Is someone attacking you? Do you need help?”

You shook your head. “Not exactly, but I did see my face taped onto a tree, and someone had hit it really, really hard. Like, incredibly hard. Maybe with a rock, or something? I don’t know. I think it might be a death threat.”

Color seemed to drain out of Hazel’s face.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you–” You explained, mistaking Hazel’s pale skin as fear. “Listen, I’m not angry at you. Well, okay, I am a little, I think you could have warned me about the punch, at least, but… I know that you’re still recovering from your past and you’re probably on edge all the time.”

Hazel nodded along, as it was partially true– she was on edge, but mainly because you were staring down at her with blood on your face and you still managed to look hot as fuck. She choked on her words before saying, “Still, I shouldn't have punched you like that. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m really sorry.”

You smiled. “This is the whole point of the club though, right? You punch me, I punch you… and we become stronger together– ow.”

You winced when the cloth touched a particular spot on your nose bridge, being reminded of your injury.

“Shit, sorry, here—” Hazel instantly dropped the cloth. She carefully cupped your face, examining your wound with sincere worry. She was used to seeing wounds on herself, but seeing them on a person that she liked— seeing them on you, made her particularly upset.

You were surprised to see Hazel being so serious. Every time you tried to talk to her, she was either nervous or punching you. To see her so focused on your face made you feel a bit self-conscious, leading you to comment on her skills to break the silence.

“You seem to have a lot of experiences patching someone up. Do you do this often?”

She chuckled, “You have no idea.”

You assumed she was talking about juvie, and you recalled seeing the bruises on her face the last time you talked to her. Was Hazel still having problems with crime even after prison? You stared at her, your heart throbbing with sympathy for Hazel. What struggles had she faced in her past for her to learn to punch so strongly, to patch up bruises, and to always be nervous around others?

Hazel pulled away from you, finishing up the basic patch-up. She started putting the medical kit away as you caught sight at the mirror across from you.

“Great. I look awful.” You sighed, lingering on your reflection.

“No, you don’t.”

Hazel tore her eyes away from the kit and responded, as if you had said something completely out of reality. You laughed and shook your head, looking at the floor.

“No, my face is a complete mess–”

“-You look pretty.”

You tore your eyes off from the floor to Hazel. She was staring at you with a soft look in her eyes, one that you felt yourself getting lost in. She had such… honesty within them, as if she fully believed your beauty underneath the red and blue color.

“You always do.”

And for a moment you wondered how you had never truly seen Hazel before— when the soft glow from the sun streamed through the window, casting a warm light over the two of you. Hazel’s brown hair, cascading into a messy mullet, framed her face which seemed to be burning up each second that passed.

“...you too,” You muttered, a shy smile replacing your dumbstruck expression. “I hope you know that.”

Then it was her turn to gawk, at you and your hands timidly placed on your legs which dangled from the examination bed. She was reminded of her crush that had been sitting in her heart for years. She had just spent 5 minutes in a room alone with you— and for a second, she was almost glad that she punched you.

And all of a sudden, Hazel seemed to recognize the lack of space between the two of you. Had you been this close to her this entire time? Your face was just inches apart from hers, and time seemed to stretch as you two gazed at each other, hearts thumping in unison. It was as if the wall Hazel had managed to build around her feelings towards you crumbled within this moment. Hazel’s lips parted, just a fraction, as if inviting the inevitable to say—

“-The club isn’t being shut down!”

The office door swung open with a bang.

Hazel immediately leaped back from you, as you whipped your face towards PJ and Josie who stopped in their celebratory tracks, analyzing the odd tension from the room.

“Oh, sorry, we thought–” Josie gaped, rubbing the back of her head in awkwardness. “How are you doing, (Y/N)?”

“I’m doing okay, actually. I should go. But I’ll see you later, bye.” You hopped down from the bed and started walking out of the room, talking a bit too fast for anyone’s comfort. You almost fell over while you ran down the hallway, unable to accept what had just unfolded. What was that? You almost— you almost kissed a girl. You almost kissed Hazel Callahan.

In the meantime, Hazel was also mortified at the fact PJ and Josie had interfered right then and there. She hid her face with her hands which her friends mistook for anger.

Josie tried to calm her down, “Okay, I know that today was kind of a disaster and you made (Y/N) bleed, but after you left we managed to grow the spirit. Everyone’s into beating each other up now. It’s kind of working.”

“And, I honestly don’t know what just went on right now but… (Y/N) just said she’ll ‘see you later’. Which means it kind of worked for you too,” PJ added. “And it doesn’t seem like you broke her nose, which meant that you can actually control your power!”

“Are you still up for this, Hazel?”

Hazel peeked out from hands, her face still red, her heart still sprinting, her mind still thinking about your lips— and how you said you would see her later. A smile tugged at her lips as she nodded and said,

“Let’s fucking do this.”

Previous Chapter: The Origin

Next Chapter: The Set-Up for Chapter 4

#bottoms movie #hazel callahan #hazel callahan fluff #hazel callahan x reader #josie bottoms #pj bottoms #hazel callahan spiderwoman #hazel callahan x you #bottoms (2023)

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candy69gurl · 14 days

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POV: You are Sukuna's Vessel 5

Warnings- smut

wc- 2.3k

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 6

You awaken, free from pain and aches, but find yourself in unfamiliar surroundings. Everything is bathed in a deep red hue, and a sense of unease washes over you. As you sit up, confusion clouds your thoughts. In the distance, you notice something immense—a Tower of Skulls—with Sukuna perched atop it.

Your heart quickens, and adrenaline surges through your veins. With determination, you rise and begin to advance towards the tower, driven by urgency.

"You fucker," you call out, your voice trembling with anger upon seeing him.

As you draw closer to the tower, you see Sukuna seated on a throne, his head propped on his hand. His gaze meets yours, a chilling smile playing on his lips.

"Don't look at me without my permission, brat. I hate it," he growls, his voice filled with menace. "Bow down before me," he orders.

Disobeying him, you inquire, "Where am I?"

"In my domain," Sukuna says, his voice sending chills through your body. "Malevolent Shrine. So you better be obedient and do what I say."

"How did I end up here?" you demand, glaring at him.

"Because you attempted to end your own life, brat," he retorts, a smirk dancing on his lips. "I couldn't allow you to perish, not yet," he continues, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. "Not until you learn the consequences of your actions."

You swallow hard, your heart pounding as you gaze at him. Summoning your courage, you take a deep breath, your voice quivering with anger. "Come down here, asshole," you command firmly. "I refuse to serve you, now or ever," you declare, your eyes flashing with defiance.

Sukuna chuckles, a cruel sound resonating through the shrine."You think you are brave enough to insult me?" he says, his voice laced with amusement. "Moreover, you broke the deal that we made."

In a surge of fury, you snatch up a skull, your rage propelling your actions. With all your might, you hurl it towards Sukuna. Swiftly, he leaps from his perch, landing atop you with a mocking laugh.

"Ouch!" you cry out, the impact stealing your breath.

"You don't get to disobey me, vessel," Sukuna snarls, pinning you to the ground and pressing your face into the bloody puddle.

Within a few seconds, he lets go of your head, letting you breathe again. "Get off me!" you yell, struggling beneath him.

"You will listen to me, vessel," he says, his voice cold. "Or I will make sure you regret it," he adds, his eyes gleaming with malice.

You struggle, but he is too strong; your efforts are futile.

"As I was saying, this is my innate domain. In other words, you are not dead yet. You missed your vital spot, so I was able to take over your unconscious body and heal it," he says, looking down at you.

"You're heavy," you remark, trying to deflect.

Sukuna releases you, grasping your neck to force eye contact. "You broke our deal by not allowing me to take over your body whenever I want," he says, staring daggers at you.

You study him intently, noting his imposing presence: the pink spikes of his hair standing tall, tattoos and markings adorning his forehead, nose, cheeks, and torso. He's wearing a white robe, the cloth flowing around him.

"Do you like what you see?" Sukuna asks, his voice mocking, "I look like a god, don't I?" he adds, a silly smirk playing on his lips.

"You're still an asshole," you retort, your voice shaking with anger.

"And I'm still the owner of your body, and do you know what happens to those who break the rules?"

You roll your eyes, your anger growing again.

Suddenly, Sukuna's hold on your neck tightens, cutting off your air supply. You fight against him, your chest burning for oxygen. Gasping desperately, your vision blurs.

Summoning your last reserves of strength, you manage to land a kick on his jaw, momentarily loosening his grip.

His eyes blaze with rage as he growls, "You insolent wretch," his voice seething with fury.

In a whirlwind of movement, you find yourself seated upon the throne, Sukuna's hands firmly gripping your waist, his eyes narrowed with unbridled anger.

"Remember, this is my domain," he growls.

Your heart races; panic is surging through you. "Release me," you demand, your voice trembling with fear.

Sukuna's smirk widens, malice glinting in his eyes. "Not so easily," he retorts, his tone chillingly indifferent.

You are now stuck with Sukuna, as he keeps you pinned against him, his hand tightly wrapping around your waist.

With a low growl, Sukuna's hands reach down to your pants. His fingers are brushing against your skin, your breath hitches, and your body is tense with anticipation. You try to push him away, your heart racing.

Sukuna smirks, his eyes gleaming with malice. "I've been waiting for this moment, Sama." His voice is low and seductive, sending chills down your spine. He chuckles darkly, his hands tightening their grip on your waist, before he pulls you closer, devouring your lips in a passionate yet rough kiss. His tongue dances with yours, dominating you completely as he takes control of your body, moving it according to his will.

"I know all your sweet spots," he whispers against your lips, letting you catch your breath for a moment before he yanks your pants off you.

You gasp as he slides his finger over your clit. "I am also aware of your virginity and how quickly you get wet," he chuckles, striding his tongue against your neck. Your mind keeps on wondering how he knows all this.

He leans down, yanking off your top and taking one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue flicking against it, causing you to arch your back in pleasure.

Sukuna grins, pushing a finger inside of you gently, watching as you twitch and moan softly. "Oh, look how you are so wet for me." He coos against your ear, thrusting his finger deeper into you. You squirm in his grip, but he holds you firmly.

"Ah, I am hitting the right spot, am I not?" he asks, intentionally wanting to get a reply from you.

"N-no, not at all. Your nails.. They-," you lie.

"Quit lying, you like the sensation of my sharp nails gazing at your walls; I can read your mind; don't forget that you are in my domain," he thrusts another finger, making you whimper. He chuckles darkly, increasing the pace of his fingers.

"Trust me, I can see through your mind right now." He murmurs, his eyes gleaming with lust. His hands then move to your nipple, twisting and pulling, causing you to whimper into his shoulder. "Hmm. Gotta ruin your tough personality," he whispers as he thrusts his fingers faster, making you writhe in his grip.

You moan loudly, your hips buckling against him, desperate for release. "Nah, uh, you need to beg for it," Sukuna smirks, his finger sliding out of you, his eyes never leaving yours.

You try to think of something else, but your mind keeps on reminding your body about the pleasure it was feeling from his fingers.

He chuckles darkly, his eyes gleaming with lust. "Say it aloud; I want to hear it, though I already know what you want by reading this filthy mind of yours." He says, sliding his fingers back into you, twisting and pulling them, making you moan loudly.

"Please let me, Cum," you gasp, your eyes wide with a mix of pain and pleasure.

"Hmm? Already started begging? You are not as tough as I thought you would be. Guess, I am hitting your right spots," he mocks, bruising your sweet spot again and again.

Suddenly, his fingers leave you abruptly, making you whine in protest. You were so close, but he stopped. He laughs, still holding you firmly against him. "This is a punishment; I can't give you pleasure. Can I?"

He turns you so that he can see your face clearly, and your hands unconsciously wrap around his neck. "If you really want to cum so badly, then do it on cock," he said, his voice low and seductive, causing shivers to run down your spine.

"I don't need it from you," you lie, trying to sound tough but failing miserably as you can feel his laughter resonating in your ears.

"Oh, come on, I know you want it; your body is begging for it," he laughs, his lips trailing down your neck. "Your body is so slutty, you know that?" he asks, his hands roaming your back and your hips.

You shake his hold on you, trying to break free, but he grips you tighter. "Quit lying, I told you I can read your mind," Sukuna chuckles, his lips against your ear. "You really look good with that short hair," he whispers, his fingers tangling around your hair. "I apologise; if you truly care about your hair, it will grow back."

"Shut up, I hate you so much," you try to say.

"Kiss me then; let me fix us," he smirked.

You glare at him, but he doesn't seem to care. Instead, he pulls you closer, your lips brushing against his. His lips are soft against yours, and his tongue darts out to trace the line of your lips. You groan softly, your defenses crumbling. His lips press harder against yours, his tongue sliding into your mouth, claiming it as his own. This time he kisses you thoroughly, his hands roaming your body and touching your every sensitive spot.

"Don't you want to feel the king of curses's cock inside you?" he whispers against your lips, his hands cupping your breasts. You moan softly, feeling his hands on your breasts, causing you to shiver in pleasure.

"I-I don't need that," you stutter, your body betraying you as it moves against him.

"Don't lie; you know you do," Sukuna murmurs, his lips trailing down your neck. "You are already imagining me fucking your little pussy, mhm." He chuckles darkly, his hands roaming your back, causing you to feel embarrassed.

"Stop reading my mind." Your hands travel to close his eyes. "I don't want your dirty cock inside me," you resist.

"Then why are you grinding against it? Why do you envision me fucking you?" he gently moves your hands from his face to his cock. "Can you feel it throbbing?"

You jolt at its thickness and say, "I-impossible."

He chuckles, a low rumble in his chest that vibrates against you. "Is it?" His hands slide down your body, pulling your pants off. "Don't worry, you are loose enough," he murmurs, guiding your hands against his hard shaft. "Are you telling me you don't want this?" he asks, his voice low and husky.

You bite your lip, your body betraying you as your hips rub against him. He chuckles evilly and says, "I want to hear you. Tell me you want this inside you."

You hesitate for a second, your eyes wide with confusion and desire. "I think, I do," you stutter, your hands gripping his robe tightly. Sukuna chuckles, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

"Is that so, little slut? Fine, let's see how you react," he says, his hands pulling your legs apart. His cock slides against your clit, causing you to gasp and moan.

"Please…" you whisper, your eyes pleading. "Please, what?" he asks, and he continues teasing your clit. "P-put it inside," your eyes pleading with him.

Sukuna's smirk never leaves, his eyes gleaming with victory as he positions himself at your entrance. He thrusts inside you, making you gasp and arch your back.

"Yes, that's it; take it," he murmurs, his hands gripping your hips. You moan loudly, your hands tugging on his robe. "Good vessel, take it all," he praises you, thrusting in and out of you.

You moan loudly, your hips buckling against him. "Hmm, nice and tight," he murmurs, his eyes gleaming with lust. "Tight as I thought you would be." You whimper, your eyes wide with pleasure and pain.

Sukuna chuckles darkly, his thrusts becoming faster and harder. "Where is the fierce girl you used to be?" he mocks, his nails digging into your hips. You moan softly, your body writhing under his touch.

He kisses your neck and, with his fingers, your hair. "I'll make sure you never forget this," he growls, his hips thrusting faster. You moan loudly, your hips buckling against him. His thrusts become faster and harder, and your body shudders under his touch. He bites your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. "Do you know, get it, who's the owner of this body?" he growls, his eyes gleaming with lust.

"Yeah," your voice quivering with every demonic thrust.

"You look so good, taking my cock, so submissive," he murmurs, thrusting harder. His words send shivers down your spine, his cock sliding in and out of you, making you whimper. "I can feel your walls trembling around me," he growls, his hands wrapping around your neck.

You whimper, your body shaking terribly, your toes curling.

"Cumming already?" he asks mockingly, his hips thrusting harder.

"A-ah, I-I," you gasp, your body betraying you. You arch your back, your body quivering as you reach your climax. Sukuna groans loudly, his hands gripping your hips tighter.

"This body, these breasts, this pussycat—every inch of your body belongs to me," his low growl echoing through your ears, his cock pulsing inside you. He thrusts deeper, his orgasm coming hard, filling you up. He gives you a peck, and your body is still quivering from the experience.

"Now you know who owns this body," he mocks, his hands running down your body. "Next time, don't dare to deny me." You nod weakly, your body still under the effect of the intense climax. He smirks, slowly pulling himself out of you, his cock sliding out of your body.

You pass out, slumping against him. Sukuna chuckles ominously, his eyes bright with triumph.

TAGLIST: @moonlightazriel @unholiiness @nyxlai @cocoaxbunny @persephone-lilly @iraa567 @rabbidbunwy @sweetchildcloud @lotus-n-l0ve @smashhed @imhellakawai @loveoreos @selfloverrrrrr @matchainthemorning @freckledmuffin @palegardenrebel @hellomeow12 @rowrowrowyourboat13

Dividers from @cafekitsune

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turtletaubwrites · 2 months

Text

Misty Eyes ~ Part 2

Thank you so much @pinejayyfor this delicious request!!

Pairings: Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader, Doflamingo x Fem!Reader (Past)

Word Count: 3377

Misty Eyes Masterlist

Ao3 Link

Summary: Law can't trust you yet, so you do everything you can to prove yourself. Will your memories help or hurt you?

Author's Note: I'm really enjoying writing Law in multiple fics, so I can slap different vibes on him like he's trying on different shades of eyeliner 😅

THIS FIC CONTAINS DARK CONTENT.

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Devil Fruit User Reader, Swearing, Eventual Smut, Angst, Pet Names, Degradation, Punishment, Emotional Abuse, DARK CONTENT, DUBCON, Grooming, Trauma, Past Sexual Abuse, Manipulation, Power Imbalance, Dubious Consent, Donquixote Doflamingo is His Own Warning, Bondage, Other Additional Tags to be Added, Dissociation, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers

!!! SPOILERS !!! This story begins during the 2 year timeskip before the Punk Hazard Arc, and there will also be spoilers for the Dressrosa Arc for backstory lore

~🦩🦩🦩~

“Do you love me?”

“Of course I do, young master! You–”

“Now, now, Y/N. What did I tell you? You’re my pretty little thing now, so you get to call me Doffy, alright?”

His large hand cupped your face, warming your cheek that was already warm from his attention.

He’s smiling at me now. I’m special to him. I mean something to him, finally.

“Well? Are you going to answer my question properly?”

Doffy’s hand traveled down to your neck, long fingers circling your vulnerable flesh as he waited for you to obey him.

“Yes. I love you, Doffy.”

~🦩🦩🦩~

“Y/N?”

Law repeated your name softly until you returned, finding yourself in that metal room, a shrine dedicated to his hatred and rage.

“I’m sorry to have to ask you this,” Law rasped, dipping his face to meet your eyes. “I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through all these years…”

His brows pinched together when he caught your grimace, and his shoulders slumped.

Guilt pulled at his features, while you tried to understand which of the emotions inside you were worth focusing on.

“I shouldn’t have asked you that–”

“I don’t know,” you confessed. Your voice was empty, as if a machine were spilling truths instead of your own lips.

“I did love him. I know I did,” you continued, staring a hole through Law’s wooden desk. “I’ve been… feeling guilty for a while. Why am I not feeling that anymore?”

Your misty eyes looked up, almost pleading with him for an answer.

“Loving Doffy is the only thing I’m good at. The only reason he needs me. What use am I–”

“You are worth more than what he takes from you,” he growled, your eyes widening until the mist turned to tears.

Law relaxed his shoulders again, releasing a breath. Those tattooed hands cupped your cheeks, and you sighed as his thumbs wiped away your show of weakness.

“Y/N,” he soothed, his lips quirking before he continued. He dropped his hands away, and you missed their warmth, especially as those golden eyes hardened again.

“I don’t want to keep you prisoner, but as much as I'd like to, I can’t trust you yet.”

Nodding, you tried not to shake as fear rolled back over you.

“I can’t risk this mission. It’s not safe for me to leave you somewhere on your own. But if I let you roam the Polar Tang, interact with my crew… Especially when you can sneak into any room you like–”

“I would never,” you choked out, reaching for one of his hands on the desk. “Please, Law. I won’t betray you, I swear.”

He squeezed your hand in return, but shook his head.

“I want to believe you, Y/N. But we both know the power he has over people. You might not think you’d betray me now, but he’s been in your head your whole life.”

The weight of loneliness pressed your body down, your hand going limp in his. He squeezed it a few more times until you looked up again.

“If you're willing to trust me,” he started, his eyes a bit wide, “I have a way to make sure that I can trust you. It won’t hurt–”

“Hurt,” you whispered, wetting your dry lips as you waited for whatever he wanted to do to you.

“I can remove your heart,” he explained, pulling a key from his pocket to unlock the large bottom drawer of his desk.

With all of the gruesome things you’d seen in your life, you were surprised at the gasp you let out. Law had pulled something from the drawer, holding it up so that you could take a look.

It was a strange cube, almost glowing with blueish pink light. It looked squishy, and you reached out to touch it before you noticed the steady pulse. It was a beating heart.

“So that story is true,” you breathed as you watched it in fascination, “you really did steal all of those pirate’s hearts.”

“I did,” he nodded grimly, tucking that heart back into the drawer. “I’ve done a lot of things to prepare for this goal.”

“Okay.”

“Okay? You–”

“Take my heart. It’s not helping me out anyway, it might be good to have a break,” you laughed, trying to cover the hollow sound in your words.

Law stood, and you followed suit, his powerful voice vibrating through you.

“Room.”

You watched in awe as he created a blue sphere of light to fill the space before coming toward you with his sword.

“This is just a precaution,” he explained, his breath going heavy. “I won’t hurt you, Y/N. I'll protect you.”

“I trust you,” you admitted before you held your breath.

You couldn’t follow all of the emotions that crossed his face, until he drained them all away. He looked at you as if you were just a problem to be solved. A loose end to tie up to make sure his plan would succeed.

His sunny eyes were as cold and distant as the vacuum of space when he held the tip of his blade to your chest.

“Scalpel.”

You couldn’t remember the last time a weapon had hurt you. There was no need to worry about being injured in battle when you hadn’t left the castle in so long.

Doffy was the only one that could hurt you, besides the sea and its stone.

Nothing could cut through mist.

Law was so confident in his ability that you hadn’t questioned him. Instead, you tried to cooperate, somehow willing your body to stay solid so he could rip you open.

But the blade at your chest seemed as weak as your own abilities.

Until it pierced your flesh.

“You’re okay,” Law assured you as he pressed further, your gasping breaths slowing as you realized there was no pain.

“Would you like to hold it?”

Such a strange feeling, gazing at your own beating heart. The very core of your being, the thing that keeps you alive.

Sitting in the palm of your hand like a piece of fruit.

“What happens if I squeeze it?”

“It would hurt very– Y/N, stop!”

Law pulled your heart from your grasp as you fell to your knees. The pain was indescribable, radiating from your chest through your whole body, as if your veins were on fire. Nausea came as the pain burned through you, and you leaned your forehead against his desk as he knelt beside you.

“Why would you do that,” he questioned, almost scolding you like he would when you were kids.

“Most things can’t hurt me,” you choked out, tilting your head up to see his grumpy face. “I was just curious.”

He frowned before sitting on the floor beside you, pushing the chair out of his way as he looked you over.

“How are you feeling, Y/N? Have you been having thoughts of harming yourself?”

“What? No,” you exclaimed, sitting straight as the pain started to fade. “I promise, I just… I don’t know. I’ve never been handed my own fucking heart before. It was like an impulse.”

“You’ll tell me if you start having thoughts like that,” he requested after a pause, making you squirm with embarrassment.

“I promise, I’m sorry. I was stupid.”

Law helped you to your feet, then gripped your shoulder until you were caught in his serious glare.

“That was a stupid thing to do, but you are not stupid.”

You scrunched your face up, and sat down, itching to forget everything that happened in the last hour.

“This is just a precaution,” he repeated, locking your heart in that bottom drawer. You tried not to stare as he tucked the key into his pocket, but a sick taste of guilt hit your tongue.

I wouldn't need a key to steal my heart back. I could just mist into the drawer, and absorb it.

You gulped down the pressure to confess, to tell him to hide it somewhere else.

I’m not gonna steal it back, but I don’t know him anymore. I should be careful.

“Now,” Law cleared his throat, picking up his notepad again, “do you know anything about Doflamingo’s dealings with Kaidou?”

Your mouth opened, but nothing came out. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to tell him. Everything just felt blank.

“I don’t… I’m not important enough to know anything,” you explained, the words burning your throat on the way out. “I’m sorry, I probably won’t be able to help much.”

Law sat back in his chair, tapping his pen against his lips while he assessed you.

I’m still fucking useless.

‘Can’t do anything on your own, huh? Just listen to Doffy, you’ll be the perfect little doll for me, alright?’

“Were you with him a lot?”

“What,” you coughed, your skin flushing to the tips of your ears.

“No, I– that’s not what I…” Law sighed, shaking his head to clear his own words away. “Did he have you with him throughout the day? During meals, maybe while he took calls or meetings?”

“Oh,” you said softly, noticing yourself going fuzzy again, staring into nothing as you tried to recall.

~🦩🦩🦩~

“I mean no offense, Joker, but shouldn’t we be discussing this in private?”

“Oh, don’t mind her, Caesar,” Doffy laughed, rubbing his hand over your back as you lounged in his lap. “She can’t do any harm.”

The scientist frowned at you for a moment. You couldn’t tell if he was wearing makeup, or if his skin really was that pale, his lips almost purple. He met your eyes before shifting his own away from you, and away from Doffy’s fingers that trailed over your thighs, your neck.

Doffy always touched you so gently when visitors were around, and you melted into him.

If not for Caesar’s grating laugh, you might have drifted off. Instead, you jolted now and then, Doffy’s hands clutching a little tighter.

~🦩🦩🦩~

“Are you al–”

“I remember something. Doffy sent Monet with a scientist, this weird guy with–”

“Caesar Clown,” he prompted, his brow arching a bit.

“Yeah. And I guess you wouldn’t know Monet, she joined after you…”

Law pointed to a picture on the wall, your gaze slow in following the gesture.

“I know of her.”

Your eyes were drawn to a shot of Monet, her wings curled around her as she read a book with those odd, hypnotizing glasses of hers. Memories of her disapproval hit you, a sigh escaping your lips as you tried to rid yourself of her judgments.

“She’s even more loyal to Doffy than the rest of– than everyone else. She’s almost obsessive. That’s probably why he sent her.”

Law’s body had gone taut, like electricity was running through him as he set his pen to the paper.

“Please, Y/N, tell me everything you can remember. Even if it doesn’t seem important.”

Your brain felt like a wet rag, with Law wringing out every detail of every call or meeting you could think of.

It seemed strange how much you could recall from your quiet perch on his lap. You were always so bored, but had to fight yourself not to space out or yawn.

Doffy’s possessive fingers along your skin were wonderful, your revealing clothing giving him so much access. As bored as you could get, those teasing touches in front of visitors prepared your body for what came later.

It was a relief to wet his thigh with slick before he dismissed the guests. He rarely had the patience to prep you any other way.

You’d spaced out on those memories, Law’s face pinching in concern as he watched your nails digging into your arms.

“Are you hungry? We can continue tomorrow.”

Groaning at the thought, you followed Law back to the galley. He didn’t have much luck in calming his crew this time. They surrounded the two of you until Law begrudgingly introduced you, and your hand was shaken by many greasy, steamy hands pulled out of gloves, and one bear’s paw that you were very hesitant to touch.

“I’m sorry about what I said before,” Bepo drawled, true sadness seeming to drip from his voice. “I just really love our cap–”

“Bepo,” Law scolded, and you turned to scold him back as the bear scurried off.

“How could you be so mean, did you see his–”

“Don’t fall for his sad bear eyes,” Law bristled, and you held in your smile at his discomfort.

“Is that something you’ve learned from experience,” you teased, earning you a scowl.

Law tucked into his meal, not meeting your eyes as he replied.

“I know my crew.”

“Oh yeah? They all seem to think you’re the most wonderful man in the world. Could the Surgeon of Death be a big softie?”

If looks could kill.

“Okay, sorry,” you teased between bites, “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“You do realize that I could take away your tongue if I wanted to,” he threatened, with what looked like the barest touch of pink gracing his cheeks.

“Oh, I’m sure you’d enjoy some alone time with it.”

Law raised his brows as you clamped your hand over your mouth, your face going hot. He looked too smug, his lips curling as if trying not to laugh.

“Shut up,” you choked out, putting your misty hands in your lap.

“I’m not the one whose tongue keeps wagging,” he taunted, somehow keeping that stoic air about him, just a hint of playfulness showing through.

You stuck that tongue out at him before focusing on your meal, and the low chuckle he let escape was hardly noticeable over the nearby conversations of his crew.

But you noticed it.

Warmth tingled through your body, and your face was still burning by the time he led you to your room.

“Will you be alright in here,” he checked in, standing outside the door to the small room he’d set up for you in the barracks. “The crew are on rotating shifts, so there will always be someone sleeping or getting ready nearby if you need anything.”

“Okay,” you said in a small voice. The realization that you were about to be alone in a cramped, metal room made your skin crawl.

“Are you o—“

“I’ll be fine. Thank you,” you lied with a smile. You were good at lying with smiles.

“Okay,” he nodded, clearing his throat. “I’ll, uh… I’ll come wake you in the morning, alright? We can have breakfast before we continue going over what you remember.”

“Sounds good,” you chirped. Your cheeks started to hurt as you waved him out, letting your muscles relax after he’d closed that heavy door.

Quiet.

Not completely. Clanging sounds of the sub interrupted the stillness. Soft voices floated in the hallway beyond that door.

But now that you were alone…

Thoughts. Memories. Fear. Shame. Guilt.

Falling back on the single bed, you choked out silent sobs, the flood of emotions slamming into you. You had left your world, dove off the edge of a waterfall, but now you were caught beneath the crashing water, drowning while your body was ripped apart.

What have I done? How could I leave the family? How could I betray Doffy?

I’m nothing but scum. Useless my whole life, and now I’m a traitor.

Your mind went in endless loops. Gratitude for Law taking you away. Guilt for betraying the family. Relief that you weren’t stuck in that mindless existence anymore. Terror that Doffy would find and kill you both slowly.

It hurt. Your whole body hurt, your head pounding like the clanging metal of the submarine.

And you couldn’t understand how you could feel your heart breaking and burning in your chest when it was locked up in Law’s office.

“Y/N, can I come in?”

His knock had sent you to the ceiling, your body spread into cowardly mist while you tried to calm down.

“Y/N,” he checked again, concern staining his voice.

“Just a second,” you stalled, going solid in front of the door. You shook yourself, wiped your tears, and took a few quiet breaths before opening the door with another beaming smile.

“What’s up?”

Law didn’t look at you like an old friend, an enemy, or a captain on a mission.

He looked at you like a doctor, and you tried not to squirm.

“What’s that,” you pointed to the lump of shiny fabric he held under one arm.

He coughed, looking down at his shoes before returning your gaze, seeming to rebuild that doctor persona.

“You’ve been through an intense amount of trauma, and the shock of… If you would feel comfortable, I’d like to sleep on the floor in here tonight, just to make sure you’re okay. I could sleep outside the door if you prefer, I just—“

He glanced down at your clenched fists, and you tried to relax them as he continued.

“I want you to feel safe.”

I’ll never be safe. I’m a traitor. I’m weak. I’ll be tortured before they kill me.

Doffy will…

The lump in your throat burned, and you filled the room with thick mist so he wouldn’t see you shatter, sinking to the floor as you clawed at your empty chest.

Law closed the door, calling your name as he moved blindly toward you. You could feel him in your mist, and you could have avoided him. You could have let yourself expand into tiny droplets of water, keeping yourself away from any care or comfort he could try to provide.

But you couldn’t think. Just heave silent sobs, and struggle through breaths that took in more mist than oxygen.

“Y/N– fuck,” he cursed, stubbing his toe on the bed as he waved his arms around slowly.

The mist told you that he’d gone to his knees, crawling close to you in the small space, but you couldn’t do anything with that knowledge.

Warm fingers found your arm, pressing lightly along to figure out what he was feeling.

“I’m sorry I’m touching you, I just need to make sure you’re alright,” he breathed, tracing along your shaking body until he found your neck. His fingers almost burned your clammy skin as he took your pulse before gripping your shoulder gently.

The way that you could see through your eyes was different than how you could see as mist, or through the mist you create, but you had no way to describe the difference. Through the mist, you saw him lean close, his head above yours as if he could see through the mist too.

“I’m here. I’m right here with you, Y/N.”

Time was impossible to track as you alternated between crying and dissociating, Law’s calm presence never wavering. Eventually, your mist cleared up, from exhaustion instead of choice.

He lifted your limp body, tucking you into the small bed before rolling out his sleeping bag.

“You don’t have to sta–”

Law interrupted your slurred words with a harsh glare, but sighed as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“I’m not going anywhere, Y/N.”

His eyes seemed brighter in this dim room, his voice too soft, yet firm.

Staring into nothing, you felt numbness trying to take you again, but words jumped out of you before you drifted away.

“Why does it still hurt,” you accused, tapping against your chest with angry fingers, desperate to rip these feelings out. “You took my heart, Law. Why does it still hurt so bad?”

Somehow, more hot tears fell, your body too weak to keep tearing at the hole inside.

Law’s eyes trailed away, gone to some other time, some other place. When he came back to you, he took your hand in his, running his thumb over your knuckles.

“If I could cure a broken heart, I wouldn’t be able to complete my mission.”

His words felt as hollow as your chest. You managed to squeeze his hand, pulling in his distant eyes.

“So we can be broken together then,” you asked, your voice still hoarse as your lips lifted into a weak smile.

Law huffed a laugh, lifting your fingers to his lips before kissing his promise onto your skin.

“Broken together.”

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: I knew I was going to go crazy when I started writing for Law, and I was correct. I'm obsessed with this emotionally wrecked man 🖤

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @jadeddangel | @nothing-but-brass

Part 3

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

177 notes · View notes

chuluoyi · 7 months

Text

UNHOLY MATRIMONY — 02

✩°｡ ⋆ unholy matrimony

- fushiguro megumi x oc/reader - oc/reader's character name is hara sena, pronouns still refer to “you” and i won’t mention it often—just for the sake of aesthetic rather than repeatedly writing "y/n"

in another life, in which fate is still screwing his life over, Fushiguro Megumi finds himself in an arranged marriage―with you.

genre/warnings: arranged marriage au, family drama, description of aggressive behavior

notes: somehow i just really love writing this. hope you enjoy this chapter!

✩°｡ ⋆ unholy matrimony (masterlist) | chapter one : to be wed <- previous ✩ next -> chapter three : the right husband

And so here comes the day of your wedding to Fushiguro Megumi.

The two of you stood before the shrine altar, surrounded by your extended families, as well as your clansmen, who were there to observe this union. You looked down at the white silk kimono you were wearing. The thought of being Megumi's wife was still surreal.

The sky was grey and cloudy too―just the perfect weather for some nice, depressing nuptials.

Megumi seemed to stand there with no expression, staring straight ahead, not really acknowledging what was happening despite the fact that this was his wedding. You wondered if he felt the same way you did.

At least he is a friend, you thought. Even if everyone here is against you, Megumi is in the same boat as you. The knowledge brought you comfort.

The priest stood at the altar, droning on about how your marriage was one of love and respect. Everything that proceeded afterwards became a blur―the purification rites, prayer, exchanging sake, wedding vows. Megumi was the one who recited the oath with clear voice, as your mind was tuning in and out, remembering the circumstances that had led you both here.

Have you done the right thing? By dragging a wholly innocent person into your mess?

You were having second thoughts about all of this right when you caught the sight of your mother, who was wiping her tear-streaked face at the forefront seat while watching you. And those doubts dissipated. Yeah, this is the right decision. Should you marry Naoya, you were sure as hell that he wouldn't allow you to see your mother ever again. Your father didn't really care which Zen'in you were marrying, and by dragging Megumi, you have dissolved your binding vow with him.

Everything should be fine and dandy now, isn't it?

You and Megumi had been asked to exchange rings as part of the ceremony. He stood there, staring down at the gold rings, and found his breathing to increase in intensity. He hated to admit it, but even though he found this whole ordeal tedious, he felt like he wouldn't do you justice if he fumbled this part. Your hand was soft and warm, and he tried ignoring the rush of emotions as he put the ring onto you.

His hand did hesitate for a brief moment though, wondering if he could just pull it back at the last second. You awkwardly slid the ring into his finger afterwards.

You are now husband and wife, as the priest said so.

With the ceremony over, came the reception party. Both of you took a seat at the main tables, surrounded by numerous guests.

You caught him stealing many glances at you throughout this ordeal, seemingly uncomfortable with being under the spotlight. Megumi was not one to show his emotions, but you could tell something was going on inside his head.

After a while, you excused yourself from the main table to the washroom, as greeting the well-wishers took out more of your energy than you initially thought.

“Well, if it isn’t the runaway wench.”

You stopped in your tracks as dread soaked you. Oh hells…

He flung his arms around your thick wedding garments and pulled you aside. You gave him the most offensive side eye. “Let go of me, Naoya.”

“Ah, don’t be like that, sister,” his tone was scathing, amused at how prickled you were. “We are family now, aren’t we? We should be cordial with each other.”

“No, we are not,” you gritted each word through your teeth. “You don’t get to do this on my wedding day, Zen’in Naoya.”

And suddenly his nails pierced the skin of your neck, and you gasped, almost letting out a yelp.

“You insolent whore!” he hissed in your right ear, and you really hoped no one would walk through this hallway anytime soon. “You think you can do this to me? Do you really think I won’t do anything but watch you and that bastard walk all over me?”

Of course you knew. Gojo Satoru had warned you. The very second Megumi put one foot in his ancestral home, Naoya would be after him, out for blood.

“Unhand me this instant,” you croaked out with steel. No, you won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing your fear. “Or I’ll shout. Even your clansmen won’t take it too kindly if you murder me in front of them.”

Naoya spat at you, letting go of his hold. You immediately shoved him away, tried to control your trembling form, and took the chance to run.

“Enjoy this while it lasts, you wench!” he taunted as your thundering steps resounded throughout the halls. You shut the door of the restroom with a bang, trying to collect your bearings. You were so terrified. Even when you were the most overlooked daughter in Hara family that you hated, no one has ever manhandled you like that.

You wiped the trickling blood from your neck and washed it with the running water. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you took a deep breath and swallowed it. You can’t. You have gone too far now. You have to see this to the very end.

When you got back to the reception hall, your mother caught you and pulled you into her arms. Her embrace felt warm, and you sighed against her, finally finding peace. “Mom…”

“Sena,” she breathed out. “Oh, my baby, you are really beautiful today…” she pulled back to caress your face, and then she whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry to put you in this position.”

You shook your head lightly, smiling at her. “No, don’t be, mom. It’s fine.”

“At least he seems to be a decent young man,” your mother dabbed her eyes with her kerchief, referring to Megumi who was sulking at his dais. “I’m still sorry, but at least I can rest easy, knowing that your husband isn’t someone who would treat you badly.”

Almost, you thought with a sigh, shuddering at the remainder of Naoya's hold against you earlier. Once again, this reminded you that you have made the right choice. Whatever it was that Naoya had planned, it was a problem for another chapter.

“Now I can visit you every time I want, mom,” you said heartily. “Father can’t get in the way between us anymore. We’re free.”

She shot you a scolding look. “You silly girl, you don’t have to focus on that. Even if he tried again, I would crawl my way back to see you.” You almost didn’t want to let go of her hand, as she finally untangled them from your hair. “Now go back to your husband. Poor him, I think he’s having a hard time there.”

Your mother was right. Megumi really seemed to be struggling with the inquiries of people who surrounded him. Reluctantly, you went back to your place at his side, and politely answered their queries.

Megumi was slightly relieved. With you back, he didn't have to speak as much. Soon it was time for the guests to have a chance to pour you drinks. A troublesome tradition, he sighed to himself.

"Honestly, it's the first time I've heard of her," an elderly woman said in a thoughtful manner behind the first line of crowd surrounding the two of you. "And doesn't Hara clan only have three daughters? Aren't all of them married already?"

"Hush, auntie!" the woman beside her rebuked in a whisper. "She's not the daughter from the main wife."

"Oh, really? A lesser daughter... How come she got the Zen'in with the Ten Shadows?"

Megumi blinked, the sake felt bad as it burned his throat. Did these guests just slight you right in front of your face? He found himself glancing at you to see your reaction.

But you kept smiling, tending to each praise of your grace and sipping the drink with positive attitude. You either paid those whispers no mind or just didn't hear it altogether. And as he wondered, he noticed the bruise on your neck.

He was sure that wasn't present up until just now.

When those two women who gossiped about you finally got the chance to pour you the drinks, Megumi suddenly felt the unbearable impulse to blurt this out. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't talk about my wife like that."

You were surprised. The two women were too. As they bowed in apology, you threw him a small smile―a silent thank you. He averted his gaze, ignoring the blush on his face.

And soon, it was Naoya's turn. He looked unpleasant and had this sneer on his face that made Megumi uncomfortable. But when he saw you tense and shrink back in alarm, he immediately connected the dots.

"Should I say it?" the elder Zen'in murmured with a low cackle, concealing it through the trickling sound of the sake he poured into his cup. "Why a bastard daughter can marry into my clan―because she is lucky to be legitimatized by her sorry excuse of a father.”

At this point, you really didn’t care a whit about what Naoya said—you just wanted him to leave. But Megumi took offense, clenching his jaw. "If you disrespect her one more time―"

"What? What can another bastard like you do, huh?" he challenged.

Megumi was this close to flipping this stupid table of drinks before him when Zen'in Naobito took a hold of Naoya's shoulder, silently admonishing him. Naoya grumbled under his breath and moved away in disgust.

"Well, that's that," Megumi grunted as the last person went back. There were murmurs among the guests, perhaps talking about your status or Naoya’s antics just now. He looked at you again, suddenly finding the atmosphere quite oppressing. "Should we go now? It isn't like we're bound to drink through the night anyway. I hate alcohol."

"Sure," you snorted quietly. Both of you moved away from the main table. For appearance's sake, his hand gripped yours―and he was taken aback by how clammy it was.

Many things ran through his mind, but one thing he knew was that he didn't like this at all.

"Did Naoya do that to you?" he released his grip as soon as you were secluded away in the gardens. His dark eyes seemed to gleam with something as he had a good look at your neck.

You let out a resigned sigh. "I’m alright. Please don't make a big deal out of this."

"Sena, if I see something like this again, I won't stay quiet, you understand?" He would take matters into his own hands. What in actual hell is this? Why should their lives be haunted by Zen'in Naoya in the background?

The very idea made him angry.

"Don't think about it that hard," you rebuked with a grin. You wanted to lighten things up really, with all that had happened during the course of today. "So we're friends already, eh? You’re concerned about me.”

He threw you a look. "I suppose we can call each other friends for today."

"Not just today. From now on. Because you're the only one I can trust now, amongst people with agendas within our clans."

It wasn't your intention to say that. Maybe the many cups they poured you loosened your tongue.

"You really trust me?" Megumi asked, amused, his arms folding across his hakama.

"Out of those Zen'in who see me as vile and people in my clan who clap their hands as they ship me away?” you squinted, sighing. “Yes.”

He barked a satire laugh. If he had doubted it before, then after tonight he was certain that this marriage thing with you was indeed doable. "Well, good, because I don't not trust you either."

Both of you were getting somewhere, and you could feel it. Your wedding day might not go as smooth as either of you wanted, but you couldn’t care less about that. As you walked in the same tempo with him, you shared a laugh and company.

"Don't you hear what they were saying earlier? They told me to have your child as soon as possible."

"Huh? We haven't even been married for a day and they're already pushing us to have a child?"

"They mostly whispered it to me. It's incessant."

It isn't so bad, each of you thought to yourselves, unaware of what life has got in store for this marriage that had started with duty, lies and betrayal.

✩°｡ ⋆ next -> chapter three : the right husband

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