#he just carries all the love and will share all the love to the world

[ashwhowrites]

Hi, love your work.

I was thinking a maybe a break up and make up fic with:

Angst Prompt 31. “You broke me! You ruined everything we had and- for what?”

Fluff prompt 7. “You’re the only person I want to spend my life with”

With Eddie Munson/Y/N Henderson or Y/N Wheeler. A sister from one of the main party.

Eddie and Y/N have been together before season 1. Season 1 happens, Y/N was there. Resulting in her getting closer to Steve or Jonathan, to which Eddie thinks Y/N is cheating on him. Even catches Steve/Jonathan comforting Y/N and gets the wrong idea. They break up. The younger brother of Y/N tells Eddie off and makes him rethink things. Leading to them getting back together.

Thank you so much! I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Friends? Or something else?

Y/N Wheeler was quite different from her sister, Nancy. Nancy liked the boy next door vibe, and Y/N liked the rebel bad boy. Y/N didn't see what Nancy ever saw in Steve in the beginning. But he turned out to be a sweet guy when Nancy stomped on his heart.

She felt bad for Steve, but Y/N wanted to spend her free time with Eddie. It was no shock that the two fell for each other. Eddie was exactly her type, the leather, the attitude, and the nasty mouth he kissed her with.

Anyone could see she was smitten with the boy. She kissed the ground he walked on. She would do anything he asked, and do it happily.

It was a shame all he did was doubt her love for him

~~~

Eddie and Steve didn't really get along. Back when Nancy and Steve were together, the sisters loved double dates.

As Y/N fed Eddie fries and shared chocolate milkshakes, Nancy and Steve would argue across from them. Half of their double dates ended with Eddie and Y/N sneaking off.

Eddie didn't like the way Steve carried himself. He thought he was so superior compared to the rest of them and that didn't sit well with Eddie. And Y/N thought the same. She hated the way he treated Eddie.

Y/N just couldn't get along with Steve.

Until Nancy broke up with him and he finally showed his true self.

She couldn't lie. She felt bad for Steve. He showed up to their house with flowers but Nancy was already out with friends. Y/N couldn't leave him outside and alone. She let him in and before she knew it she was comforting him.

He cried into her arms as he talked about how Nancy was all he had left.

"I'll be here for you, I promise."

And she meant it. Whenever Steve called, she listened to what he had to say. Nancy was a little bothered at first. She found it weird her ex-boyfriend was using her little sister as a shoulder. But then Steve began to change, in a way Nancy thought wasn't possible.

The friendship helped Steve and Nancy accept that. It even helped get them back on normal speaking terms.

Eddie hated it, though. He hated having Y/N in his lap, rocking her hips against his. His tongue battled hers as the music played through his shitty speakers.

"Wheeler, call for Wheeler."

Steve's voice cut through the moment like a knife. The static voice worked its way through the talkie and Y/N pulled back.

"One second," she whispered.

Eddie felt his stomach turn as she grabbed the talkie and went outside. He wanted to trust her, he so badly did. But it was so hard when she'd always leave the room to talk to him. Why can't she talk to him in front of her boyfriend? It meant she was hiding something.

She had to be cheating on him.

And the thought of it broke his heart.

The one time he was in love, she found someone else.

~

What Eddie didn't know was that Steve and Y/N found themselves thrown into some type of supernatural portal. Something called the upside down? She wasn't quite sure what it all meant yet, but all she knew was that she and Steve fought hand in hand for months on end.

The world seemed to be back to normal and they wanted to keep it that way. She didn't want Eddie to get dragged into all of it. She'd never forgive herself if something happened to him. So she demanded every single one in the gang keep what happened a secret.

It was sworn that Eddie never found out what happened a few months back.

As a result of being at war with Steve, meant their friendship grew so strong that they truly became best friends. They leaned on each other when they needed it the most.

Eddie didn't understand how one minute she hated Steve and the next, she ran the second he called. He knew something happened between them. He tried to piece together a timeline, but he drew blanks.

~

She bounced back into the trailer with an apologetic smile on her face.

"Steve needs to talk some stuff out. He got in a fight with his dad. Can we raincheck the movie?" she asked

Eddie fought the urge to roll his eyes. He wasn't surprised.

"Sure thing," Eddie smiled. He was good at pretending that nothing was wrong. So well that she had no idea she was ruining their relationship the more she picked Steve.

~~~

"Do you think you'll come to the hideout tonight?" Eddie asked as he wrapped his arms around Y/N. Her back to his chest as she crammed books in her locker.

His lips kissed her neck as he swayed them back and forth.

"Ew, get a room." Nancy gagged, but a smile on her face. Nancy loved seeing her sister in love. She was the main reason Nancy ended things with Steve.

Nancy wanted what Y/N and Eddie had, and she didn't feel like she did with Steve.

"Um, I'm sorry but I don't think I can." Y/N cringed as Eddie's touch was gone in a second.

Nancy sensed the air change and quickly left them alone. Nancy knew tonight was a meeting with the gang, they were worried the upside down was opening again. But Eddie couldn't know.

"Don't even tell me it's because you'll be with Steve." Eddie snapped.

Y/N felt nervous to turn around. She gulped as she turned around, that same apologetic look in her eyes.

"Why now? Can he just go to fucking therapy and stop using my girlfriend?"

"Eds, be nice," she tried, but she could tell by the look on his face that he was strongly irritated.

"What's wrong?" she asked, she reached to wrap her arms around his neck. She didn't hide the pain she felt when he backed away.

"What's wrong? What's wrong is that my girlfriend doesn't seem to give a shit that I exist." Eddie spat, he wanted to keep his anger in check but he couldn't help but sound pissed.

"Of course I do! Tonight I just had prior plans."

"Cancel and come with me," Eddie said, his voice soft as he grabbed her hand. He turned his puppy eyes to her as he begged.

"I can't cancel, Eds." She sighed sadly

The anger washed up as quickly as it washed away.

He dropped her hand like it burned. Her hand was dead against her side as it dangled.

"Why not?" he challenged

"They all need me, baby," she said softly

Eddie shook his head and chuckled darkly.

"They do or Steve does?"

"Eddie, you know it's not like that, right?" She said, her heart broke as she watched the insecurity flash across his face. Had he been upset about Steve all this time? Was she a horrible girlfriend for not noticing?

"Just sometimes I need my girlfriend too," he said sadly, then walked off.

"Eddie, no wait," she said, she grabbed his hand. She felt her throat close up as he sniffled.

"Forget it. I'll tell you about the show whenever I see you."

"Eddie, please. I'm sorry." she tried, she wanted to tell him the truth but she couldn't.

"I know, I'll see you later," he said, his mouth in a tight line as he walked away.

~

Y/N couldn't focus during the meeting. Her brain focused on the little fight with Eddie. Had she been neglecting him? She would never intentionally hurt him and she hated that she still did.

Steve was listening to Dustin when he heard sniffles. He looked beside him and watched as Y/N silently cried. Her head down as she used her shirt to catch the tears.

"You okay?" Steve whispered in her ear

"Course," she said, putting on a fake smile as she looked at him

But looking at Steve made her think of Eddie. And thinking of Eddie caused a loud sob to escape.

The gang all looked in her direction. Nancy and Mike watched with concern as she stood up.

"Sorry, need a minute." she apologized, she raced up the stairs and closed the basement door behind her.

She dropped her body on the front step and let the sobs take over her body. She cried into her hands as the afternoon played through her head on an endless loop.

Steve followed behind her, he sat next to her and he wrapped his arms around her. She turned her body into his and sobbed. Her wet tears soaked his shirt as she sobbed.

"What is going on?" he whispered, he gently rubbed her back as she tried to get ahold of herself.

She told him everything that happened, Steve felt a puddle of guilt in his stomach. He pulled her away, it was his fault Eddie was upset.

They were lost in their own world, no idea that as Steve placed a comforting kiss on her forehead Eddie was in the driveway.

Eddie's heavy feet stomped towards them. They jumped apart hearing his boots crunch the sticks below.

Steve stood up and held his hands in defense

"Munson, I swear it-" but he didn't get to finish his sentence.

Eddie went at him, a huge right punch connected straight against Steve's eye. Steve crumbled to the grass instantly as he held his eye.

"EDDIE!" Y/N gasped, she quickly jumped in front of Steve as Eddie went to charge forward.

"Not like that right?" Eddie spat, his voice filled with venom as he shot her words right back at her.

"Eddie," Steve groaned as he stood up. He looked at Eddie with one eye, holding the bruising one. "It's not what you think, I swear."

"I don't give a single fuck about what you have to say" Eddie hissed as he pointed at Steve over Y/N's shoulder.

"Steve, can you give us a second?" Y/N asked, but her eyes never left Eddie.

Once she heard the front door shut, she took a deep breath.

"How could you do this to me?" Eddie asked, his voice cracked as the first round of tears fell down his face. "We were so in love. You used to love me so much. You used to never leave my side and now? Now I can barely remember the last time we even had sex."

"Oh Eddie," she whimpered as she stepped forward and held his face in her hands. She cried seeing him cry. "We are in love! I still love you. I love you more and more every day. I'm sorry I've gotten so caught up with Steve but I promise you it is not because I have feelings for him. I didn't know you were missing me so much."

"How could you know? You won't see me for more than ten minutes." he snapped, he grabbed her hands and shoved them off of his face. She tried to ignore the drop of her heart.

"You're right. I am so sorry. Talk to me, let's talk it out."

"I don't think I even want to anymore," he confessed. YN shook her head as she panicked.

"No, baby, You can do it, just tell me what you are feeling, please," she begged, she fought hard not to touch him. All she wanted was to wrap her arms around him but she couldn't tell if he wanted her to touch him.

"You broke me! You ruined everything we had and- for what?" Eddie said, he lashed out as his tears turned into anger. His voice rose. "For Steve? I mean how could you even do this to Nancy?"

"She doesn't care because she knows we are just friends!" Y/N argued. "Like I've told you! There is nothing between him and I."

"YOU AND I USED TO BE FRIENDS, SHIT CHANGES Y/N!" he screamed, no doubt letting the neighbors know a fight was breaking out

"That's different." she cried, tears falling down her face.

"HOW?" he screamed as he stepped closer. Right in her face as he demanded his answer.

"BECAUSE I WAS ALREADY IN LOVE WITH YOU, ASSHOLE. I KNEW I LOVED YOU AND I HAD TO PRETEND I DIDN'T BECAUSE I DIDN'T WANT TO LOSE YOU AS A FRIEND. THAT IS WHY IT IS DIFFERENT. I'VE NEVER WANTED TO KISS STEVE OR WONDERED WHAT HE TASTED LIKE. IT'S ALWAYS BEEN YOU!" she cried, it hurt to have him so close and not touch him. She wanted to have the right words to say.

"Then why has it only been Steve, lately?" Eddie asked, breaking down as the words left his tongue. More tears fell as he looked into her eyes. He used to see through her, but something happened and her eyes never told him the truth anymore.

"I can't tell you because it would kill me if you got hurt because of me." She watched as he nodded and choked back his tears. His red eyes looked into hers.

"You've been hurting me for months, and you are still breathing," her heart shattered as he began to step back, "Steve or not, it's clear you don't have the time for me. Take me off that full plate you have."

"Eddie, please don't" she sobbed as he kept stepping back. With each step he took, she made that step forward.

"If you ever truly loved me, you'll let me heal from you. I don't deserve to feel second best by my own girlfriend."

With those words, she stopped. She planted her feet in the grass as he turned around. She covered her mouth as he got in his van. Before he closed the door, she yelled his name.

He looked over at her

"I need you to know that I'm doing what you asked. I'll leave you alone and give you the space you need because it'll prove that I love you. Even if it kills me to never be with you again."

She watched as he didn't say a word, just closing his door and taking off down the road.

~~~

Mike had seen both his sisters experience breakups, but nothing as bad as Y/N.

It's been a week since the breakup, and Y/N barely leaves her room. She came out to use the bathroom, sometimes she'd sit in the kitchen and stare at the phone. She'd pray that he would call, but she knew he wouldn't. After a few hours, she'd go right back up to her room.

"Poor girl. I've never seen her so heartbroken." Karen said as she sat down at the dinner table. "Has she done any of the schoolwork she missed?"

"Barely, I've turned in a few of her assignments." Nancy said, "She won't even talk to me about it."

"Shame on that boy for hurting her," Karen said as she shook her head, "I wish I could smack some sense into him."

His mom's words gave Mike an idea.

~

The next morning Mike biked to Eddie's trailer. It was a Saturday morning so he knew Eddie would be rotting in bed.

He was done seeing his sister lose herself

and he was done with Eddie's cranky ass during Hellfire.

He threw his bike into the dirt as he raced up to Eddie's trailer. He pounded on the door.

"Wheeler?" Eddie said confused, his eyes half open as he yawned.

"We need to talk," Mike snapped, letting himself in the trailer and sitting on the couch.

"Great, another fight with a wheeler," Eddie mumbled to himself.

"What can I help you with?" Eddie asked as he stood.

"Why does it look like you are sleeping on the couch?" Mike asked with sass as he pushed the bundle of blankets out of his way. "Bedroom reeks of all the random girls you've been sleeping with?" he hissed.

"Woah, little Wheeler. What I do in my bedroom is none of your business. What makes you think I'm sleeping with random girls? Is that how your sister is dealing with the breakup?" Eddie asked, he couldn't help but get mad at his own words.

"Oh shut your mouth," Mike snapped, "my sister isn't this whore you claim her to be."

"I know, that was uncalled for," Eddie said, "how...how is she?" he couldn't help but ask. It had been eating him up all week. He hadn't seen her once, hadn't heard her voice, and it killed him. He had no idea if she was breaking apart or completely fine with Eddie gone.

"Answer my question first," Mike demanded, he got off the couch and walked to Eddie's room. If there was a girl in there, Mike swore he'd kill Eddie before the upside-down had the chance.

"WHEELER!" Eddie yelled but Mike carried on. He flew Eddie's door open. And it was empty. The bed set is perfectly made, with a flower on the pillow with a note attached.

"And what slut is this for? Moving on already?" Mike snapped. He reached forward and grabbed the note.

"Give me that!" Eddie snapped back, snatching the note from his hands. "I'm not sleeping with anyone, okay? I haven't been in here since the breakup. She made my bed that morning and wrote me a note, and this was the first flower someone had given me. I just wanted to leave everything the way she touched it." Eddie explained. The room held too many memories, and it smelled of her.

"Can we talk in the living room?"

Mike nodded, knowing not to push Eddie further.

They walked back into the living room as Eddie closed his bedroom door. Eddie took a seat next to Mike.

"She's heartbroken," Mike said, Eddie looked over at him. "She doesn't eat, barely sleeps, and stares at the phone the second school ends until she knows you are asleep. She's miserable and it's all your fault!" Mike said, pissed at Eddie for hurting his sister. Mike stood up so he could tower over Eddie, by a little.

"You broke her and you better fix it!"

"I didn't do anything, Mike. You are too young to understand, but our relationship wasn't the same." Eddie sighed. He did feel awful hearing about how bad she was doing. Guilt in his bones as he pictured her staring at the phone.

There were so many times he wanted to call. At one point he didn't care if she ever had feelings for Steve, he wanted to be with her anyway. He'd watch her kiss Steve a thousand times if she still picked Eddie to come home to.

"I might be young, but I'm not an idiot. Steve never liked her, he is still hung up on Nancy. And Y/N never liked Steve more than a friend. Hell, she barely understood what Nancy saw in him because he wasn't you. She is so in love with you that you are literally the only guy she sees worthy. I don't blame you for wanting to protect yourself. But she has been killing herself to protect you."

"But I don't understand why she can't tell me! We've been in a relationship for over a year, and she still has these secrets!" Eddie argued.

"It's not her secret to tell! It's mine, okay?" Mike said, Eddie looked at him confused. "What I'm about to tell you is going to sound insane. But you have to believe me. It'll explain why Y/N thought it would protect you to keep you out of it."

Eddie sat and listened as Mike explained what happened over the past year. The upside down and the battles. How Y/N and Steve got thrown together and they could only turn to each other because of it. But it all made sense. She kept promising she couldn't tell because if he got hurt, it would kill her. Because if Eddie got hurt, he wouldn't survive.

~~~

Eddie waited a day before he picked up the phone. He felt nervous as he dialed the number he knew by heart.

It rang for a second before a voice appeared on the other end

"Hello, Y/N speaking,"

Eddie closed his eyes at the sadness in her voice.

"Hey, darling. It's, uh me, Eddie." He stuttered out

"I knew it was you by the first word," she laughed sadly. She hated how hard it seemed to talk to him. Like she didn't know what to say.

"Right," he chuckled, "I was hoping we could talk? Maybe better in person?" He drummed his hands against the wall as he heard her breathing heavily through the phone.

"Yeah, um when and where?" Her voice cracked as she blinked back her tears. This was the final moment, he wanted to break it off officially. She gave him his space and he was ready for it to be forever.

"Please don't cry, sweetheart." He begged, choking up himself as he listened to her.

"I'm fine!" She lied, "Just tell me when and where."

"My place and the sooner the better."

He clenched his eyes in pain as she whimpered and let out a soft okay before the phone went dead.

~

She drove over to his trailer, unable to keep the tears back.

She was scared to see him again. She barely kept it together hearing his voice again. She didn't want to cry when she saw him, but it was all she had been doing for the past week.

Eddie was against his trailer smoking a cigarette when she pulled up. She took another deep breath as she turned off the car. Even having that small glimpse sent her head into a spiral.

Eddie smashed his cigarette as she walked up to him. She wore one of his old hoodies, and a pair of sweats she stole after their first movie date. Her eyes were majority swollen and red. Her nose was red as she rubbed it with his sleeve.

"Hi, sweets" Eddie cooed, as he opened his arms. Within seconds her body crashed into his as she wrapped her arms around him. He wrapped his arms around her. He rested his chin on her head, inhaling her scent. He kissed her head, and every painful feeling in his body melted away.

She sobbed as she inhaled his clothes. All she wanted was to be with him again, and she was. She kept squeezing him tighter, hoping he'd feel closer.

"Don't cry, my love," he said into her hair, rubbing her back.

"I missed you so much," she sobbed, "it was so hard to give you the space you wanted."

"I missed you too, baby girl. I'm so sorry I made you give me space. I'm so sorry for the mess I made since I didn't communicate when I should have. Let's go inside." He let go of her body but laced his hand with hers as they walked into the trailer. Eddie led her to his room, he opened the door and closed it behind him. She refused to let go of his hand, but he didn't ask her to.

She wasn't sure how long she'd have before he wanted space again. He sat beside her as she looked around his room. She noticed it was the same as a week ago, but she didn't say anything.

instead of sitting next to her, he dropped to his knees and rested his head on her lap. She smiled and ran her fingers through his hair, she scratched his head in the way he loves.

"I'm sorry for fucking this up. I should have trusted you, I'm sorry I didn't. I thought I needed space, but all it did was make me miss you." He melted into her touch as her fingers continued to run through his hair. "I'm so in love with you. I wasn't used to sharing you and I felt like I was losing you." His puppy eyes looked up at her as he sat up on his knees.

He laced his hands with hers and rested them on her lap

"I'm sorry for not realizing how much I was hurting you. You are the only boy I'd ever want. I love you and that won't ever change." She said she unlaced their hands so she could cup his face. Her thumbs rubbed his wet cheeks as she leaned in and placed her lips on his.

Eddie wrapped his arms around her waist, his palms resting on her back as he kissed her back. Eddie straightened himself as he deepened the kiss. He kept his lips on hers as he pushed her back and stood up. Her back was against his mattress as he climbed on top of her. The kiss grew more intense and hungry as her hands moved to his stomach. His right hand rested on her cheek, he moaned as he slipped his tongue inside her mouth.

The kiss sent goosebumps rising on her skin. The feelings she felt when she kissed Eddie never went away, it was always butterflies and needing more.

Eddie pulled away for air, his eyes soaking her in. She was slow to open her eyes but when she did she was staring into Eddie's.

“You’re the only person I want to spend my life with” she whispered

"Just like the note said." he smiled

"Just like the note said," she laughed. Already missing his lips, she placed her hand on the back of his neck and brought his lips to hers. She frowned when Eddie pulled back a little, not letting their lips meet.

"Before I get carried away with you," Eddie winked, she blushed and bit her lip. "Will you be my girl again?"

"I never stopped,"

Eddie smiled and smashed his lips back on hers. They hungrily touched each other, showing how much they missed it and never wanted space again.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x wheeler! reader #ashwhowrites

[toji-girl]

tags: chubby! fem reader + this is so self-ship coded (minfushiu) done in x reader + you're on your period + talks about mensuration and mental health + fluff

Sadness ate away at you until it felt like your skin was raw and unable to protect you, all the feelings you tried to shove down until you choked on them because talking about it all made you more upset.

Tears lined your waterline as you fumbled for your keys while walking toward your car, your chest felt tight as did your belly which filled with a sadness that you couldn't quite describe, it felt like hell.

People milled around you trying to go about their day unaware of your breakdown that rose like a tidal wave threatening to take you under until you floated then stayed on the bottom unable to remove yourself from the sea floor and all you could do was just lay there and watch as everything passes by knowing the world still goes on.

Your body bowed in on itself once you finally got your car unlocked and you were inside and in your seat before you broke down, feelings of a deep profound sadness weighed heavily and you wanted to lift it off of you, but you didn't want to bother anyone so you stayed silent.

On the car ride your mind played awful tricks on you, and the hormones flowing through your body didn't help either, they were the main cause for your feelings and for your period that never ceased to wreak havoc on you until you were nothing but a huge crybaby.

It was a lie because you knew people did care about you, but for some reason, it felt like you were the only person in the world on your side, and that made you feel ten times worse.

After exiting your car with the bags from the back you didn't expect to see one of your boyfriends, let alone both of them standing by the front door with their arms crossed over their chests eyeing you.

Judging by their looks you knew they knew what type of mood you were in. "Why didn't you call us?" Toji asked, his voice a bit rough around the edges until you were close enough to them for both men to grab you, Toji grabbed your waist and Shiu held your hips.

They sandwiched you between their bodies and lavished you with kisses and hugs that squeezed you tightly. "You two were busy and I needed tampons." You told them with a heavy sigh not seeing that they shared a look knowing you better than yourself sometimes.

"You have two boyfriends." Shiu reminded you as he gently rubbed his nose along your nose inhaling your scent as his fingers massaged your lower back hearing you groan. Toji picked you up despite your protests and carried you to your shared bedroom.

He laid you on the mattress with the utmost care like you were made of glass to help you undress while Shiu ran the bath making sure to light some candles and add your favorite bubble soap before he joined Toji by your side. It was Shiu's turn to help you into the bathroom and into the warm soapy water that eased your stress.

Shiu kneeled by the tub to wash your body and hair slowly making sure to massage your shoulders and aching muscles while Toji called in your favorite order in and grabbed some meds and drinks. "Talk to us, you aren't alone in this." He gently reminded you as he tilted his head down a little to look at you, he was being loving in his own way.

You stayed silent and let him wash your back, the water felt amazing and so did Shiu's soothing voice but even with being them for a while now you were still scared to take that step forward and ask for help.

Toji entered the bathroom with a plate of fruit making you scrunch your nose. "You want to feed me while I'm in the bath?" You asked making both men chuckle as he took his spot next to Shiu, the other part of your soul to feed you bits of strawberries and grapes.

"I've watched you scroll through your phone while in the shower so this isn't different, and it ain't like I'm dippin' the fruit into the soap," Toji told you making you smile and giggled laying your cheek in his open palm nuzzling into it as he fed Shiu with his other hand.

You scrunched your nose up again and flicked a bit of soap at Toji leaning in to kiss him then Shiu who drained the water once the fruit was gone, Toji lifted you gently from the tub to put you down on your feet softly before Shiu wrapped a fluffy towel around you that was super warm from the dryer making you burst into tears.

Toji and Shiu shared another look as they guided you to the bedroom where they both dressed you in Shiu's shirt and Toji's boxers before they pulled the covers back and got you settled under them.

"I don't know what I would do without either of you, thank you so much for being here and taking care of me when I don't deserve it." Your voice was soft and whiny as you snuggled between both men nuzzling your face in Shiu's neck and inhaling him deeply.

His hand gripped the fat of your hip and pulled you closer molding your backside to his front as Toji slid his leg in between yours and laid his head on your chest. "You do deserve it, stop talkin' about yourself like that and you deserve the best darlin', we love you." Toji told you.

You looked at the both of them and broke out into another fit of tears. "I love you two so much." You hummed and let your eyes flutter shut and letting sleep take over snuggled in the arms of the two men you loved more than anything.

#jjk x reader #toji x you #toji x you x shiu #toji x reader #shiu x reader #jjk shiu #shiu x y/n #shiu kong #toji fushiguro x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fluff #jujutsu kaisen toji #shiu x reader fluff #shiu kong x reader #shiu x you fluff

[mynicosensesaretingling]

Hiii! Someone recommended your blog to me!

I love Nico (and yeah F1) and I think that him and Logan Sargeant are very similar. For me Nico is deffo his father figure so... if you want could you write a fic about Nico as a father figure to him?

Thank u❤️

Guiding Lights

Note: First of all, I wanna apologise for making you wait FOREVER. Life has been pretty busy and between work and uni, I kinda forgot about writing stuff. If I am honest, this is on the shorter side of things because I really was unsure of how to write for Logan and such BUT I still hope it brings at least a little bit of joy <3

In the fast-paced world of motorsports, where the roar of engines and the thrill of competition seem to rule, there also exists a quieter, more intimate side – the bond between mentor and mentee. For Logan Sargeant, a young driver with dreams as big as the racetrack itself, that bond took shape in the form of Nico Rosberg, a former Formula One champion turned mentor and almost, dare he say, a father-like figure.

It was on a crisp autumn day at the racetrack, when Logan, unexpectedly found himself face-to-face with the legendary Nico Rosberg. Having debated whether to go up to the ex-Mercedes driver, for quite a while, Logan found that his nerves were churning in his stomach as he approached the seasoned champion, his heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and apprehension.

"Logan Sargeant, right?" Nico called out as Logan neared him. His voice was warm and welcoming as he extended a hand. "I've heard good things about you."

Logan nodded, a sly smile forming on his lips, as he felt a surge of pride at the recognition. "Yes, sir. It's an honour to meet you, Mr. Rosberg."

Nico flashed him a reassuring smile, his blue eyes twinkling with warmth. "Please, call me Nico. Mr.Rosberg always makes me think of my father… Anyway, the pleasure is all mine. I've been following your progress, and I must say, you've got some serious talent."

Upon hearing the praise from the former champion, Logan seemingly beamed with pride "Thank you, Nico. That honestly means a lot coming from you."

Their conversation flowed effortlessly from there, as Nico shared stories of his journey through the ranks of motorsport and offered advice on everything from racing strategy to mental preparation. With each word of wisdom and his willingness to answer whatever question Logan threw his way, Logan felt a newfound sense of confidence, fueled by Nico's unwavering belief in his abilities.

As the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, their bond grew stronger, forged on the foundation of mutual respect and shared passion for racing. Logan felt like Nico became more than just a mentor to him – he became a trusted friend, a confidant, and, in many ways, a father figure. He couldn’t remember when exactly, but at some point, the older driver’s unwavering support extended beyond the confines of the racetrack, as Nico took an active interest in Logan's life both on and off the circuit. He offered guidance and support during the highs and lows of Logan's racing career, lending a listening ear and a shoulder to lean on whenever Logan needed it most.

But it wasn't until a pivotal moment on the racetrack that their bond was truly put to the test. Amid a fierce battle for the lead, Logan struggled to maintain control of his car, his confidence shaken by a series of setbacks.

"Nico, I don't know if I can do this," Logan confessed over the radio, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

But Nico's response was swift and unwavering, filled with the same calm reassurance that had carried Logan through so many challenges before. "You've got this, Logan. Trust in yourself and your abilities, let your instincts guide you."

With Nico's words echoing in his ears, Logan dug deep, finding the courage and determination to push through the obstacles in his path. And as he crossed the finish line, the taste of victory sweet on his lips, he knew that he owed a big part of it to the man who had believed in him when no one else did – his mentor and friend, Nico Rosberg.

As the celebrations came to an end and Logan could still hear the cheers of the crowd ringing in their ears, he couldn't help but smile as he looked at Nico. "Thank you, Nico. I couldn't have done it without you."

The former driver returned his smile, a proud glint in his eyes. "You earned this victory, Logan. I was just along for the ride. But I have a feeling this is just the beginning for you."

And as they embraced, the bond between mentor and mentee stronger than ever, Logan knew that with Nico by his side, there was nothing they couldn't achieve together.

For in the world of motorsports, where speed is king and victory is sweet, the true measure of success lies not in the trophies won or the races conquered, but in the bonds forged along the way – the bonds between mentors and mentees, between friends. And for Logan Sargeant and Nico Rosberg, theirs was a bond that would stand the test of time, guiding them through the twists and turns of the racetrack and beyond.

#f1 drivers #f1 fandom #nico rosberg #f1 random #f1blr #f1 grid #f1 fanfic #logan sargeant #logan sargeant fanfic #nico rosberg fanfic

[erabu-san]

THIS QUEST WAS SO GOOD OMG Cyrus being the type of father who carries his child baby photos around and shows it without shame is something I always want to know cnyonari share tent they share tent I also like Sethos there's so many good things here AAAAAAHHHHH

How do you feel?

ERHM again. I do not SHIP cyn*ri and it makes UNCOMFORTABLE PLZ😭 i am getting overwhelmed since days because of that

I usually block when someone mention it but,, you look kind anon, maybe you just didn't know </3 (and i want to yapp abt cyno's quest.)

(Spoiler plz dont look)

YES WE SHOULD THANK LISA FOR ALL GOOD PICTURZ WAAAH 😭😭

Oh I believe this quest is definitively a Cyno AND Tighnari's quest ! (We learnt more abt tighnari'ancestor and this is so GOOD) and all interaction we got wAAAAH they are all so lovely 😭😭😭😭

Sethos is so likable. I love him so much and I hope Cyno will take his arms and show him around Sumeru's city (even if he already saw it,, but now it is with company), drinking coffee with friends, and show what friendship is. I hope Sethos will finally find his answer as Cyno did !

I am sure Sethos knew Cyno's existence, and he believes only him would understand him. But when he saw him bringing friends, he was wondering if they live in the same world. Akademiya changed after all, it became more peaceful ! But what if he is curious about Cyno's world ? How someone similar of him could be so different ?? What if Sethos always felt lonely ? (Man is enthousiastic and extrovert, but I believe people tend more to worship him, and his grandpa had expectation.. so he doesn't know what is a genuine friendship is)

That's why when Cyno Tighnari and Traveler stayed w Sethos after his grandpa passed, he slowly started understand what friendship looks like (TY CYNO)

I need to see more interaction between them I AM SO HYPE TO HAVE SETHOS AND LEARN MORE ABOUt HIM !!!

#spoil 4.7 #spoil cyno quest #reply #again i dont rereas myself because i am lazu #lazy #but!!!! #sethos. <<<33333 #tighnari !!! cyno!!! #CYNO SPITTIN FACT ABT COLLEI BEING MORE COMFORTABLE W PEOPLE #his friends HELPING CYNO #and he said it. “I had less friend back then” #HE IS GRATEFUL TO HIS FRIENDS AND HE KNOWS HE IS HAPPY. #🫵🫵🫵🫵💥💥💥 #he relate w sethos's feeling who kept questioning himself “what's the meaning of my existence and why i have this power” #but cyno has his answer. #sETHOS YOUR TURN (w cyno's help???) 💥💥 #i also share bed w my friend and my brother ??? so yeah for me the tent was one of my brainrot/HC of tighnari and cyno #BFKDKS i am projectin sometime way too much.

[farfromstrange]

Chaos Theory | Michael Kinsella x Reader

Chapter 26: Seven Devils All Around

Masterlist ° Chapter List

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Reader (she/her)

Summary: When you arrive at your apartment, you notice that the door isn't locked. You make the mistake of entering without calling the police first, and you pay dearly for your recklessness.

Warnings: ANGST, blood, violence, break-in, mentions of suicidal thoughts

Word Count: 3.4k

A/n: It took me a while to get this done because I just wasn't happy with it, but I finally got it done. We're starting to get knee-deep into the next angst arc, so I hope you're prepared for some tension, twists, and turns!

The view behind the windshield blurs through your tears as you navigate the streets of Dublin, hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly your knuckles turn white. 

You push your foot down on the gas. You want to go home, but you also don’t. Your apartment hasn’t felt like home in a very long time. After meeting Michael, and everything was still somewhat okay, he became your home, but even that seems like a distant feeling now. Your feelings toward him haven’t changed, of course, but the pile of shit you have to deal with keeps getting bigger, and you can’t catch up. You don’t know what to do. The helplessness adds to the pain of being in love—of worrying about the man you love and the family he was born into who seems to only want the worst for you and him—and that makes feeling at home a sheer impossibility. 

The motor of your car roars, but you keep going at a speed that might cost you your license until you pull into the dark street of your neighborhood and finally manage to park the car before you break down. 

Your sobs echo through the small space. Every hiccuped intake of oxygen rumbles in your chest, burning through every quarter of your lungs. It’s getting significantly harder to breathe. 

Leaving was a spur-of-the-moment decision that seemed right at the time. You had to leave. You were drowning, but the hand Michael offered was too far away and too high up to reach. Miles stretched between you; if you had tried swimming toward him, you would have never reached the end alive. You had to save yourself. 

Leaving was the right thing to do—at least that is what you kept telling yourself on the drive home. Now, though, you're starting to question what you were thinking, breaking apart at the seams after desperately clinging to a life buoy of paper. 

You used to be such a rational person. Perhaps it was the constant ignorance of reality—the lying to yourself and pretending all was well—that made everything easier. You became complicit with your trauma’s need to forget everything and move on because facing the truth was just too painful, and you tried telling yourself that you could barely remember most of it, anyway. The things you could remember, you swore to take care of once you had it figured out, but that was a foolish lie you concocted for the sake of your peace of mind.

After meeting Michael, reality only started seeping in again. Because his reality and your reality have both turned out to be brutal in their essence. Though after all this time of pretending and being eaten alive by the things you knew and couldn’t share—didn’t want to share, even because you knew the consequences could cause your entire life to fall apart—reality has become a weight you forgot how to carry. Now, your world is falling apart anyway, and there seems to be no way out. 

You knew this would happen, but you didn’t want to face the truth. That is the problem. And that is, you think, on you entirely. You should have been more careful, knowing your delusions would become your downfall eventually. 

And you can’t blame Michael, no matter how badly you want to. You can’t hate or degrade him, not even in your mind. He was worried, he was upset, and he was angry because he had to find out that even after trying so hard to stay on the straight and narrow, his chances of getting custody of his daughter would remain lower than the deepest parts of the ocean. He ran against an invisible clock and still lost, even after making it on time. You tried to help him, and he tried to help himself, but your attempts were futile. Now, after everything, he is scared of losing you, too. 

He gave you one condition; stay home and don’t do anything stupid. You couldn’t even do that, and the worry made his fuses blow. That’s not his fault. 

You don’t know why you did it. The nagging feeling wouldn’t leave you alone, and you acted on your feelings rather than common sense. You were angry at the world; Frank coming over and confronting you with the pictures that weigh heavy in the pocket of your jeans was merely your last straw in a game you felt like you were going to lose right this second if you didn’t do something other than sit around and wait. 

You faced your fears today and hated what you saw. You couldn’t stay, not when your lives are starting to pull you in different directions. Sticking together is a dangerous game, one you no longer know how to play without either one of you—or those around you—getting burned. You’re no good for each other, especially not now, and maybe you have never been. 

You couldn’t stay, but right now, crying alone in your car as you’re falling apart, you can’t help but wish Michael was there to hold you through the earthquake that takes you under. 

Pushing people away is your defense mechanism as much as it is Michael’s. You should never have let him this close in the first place, knowing the past you’ve been hiding from the world. You were so focused on yourself, playing down the risk behind it that you turned yourself into a fool. 

You can put a butterfly bandage on his forehead; you can love him, and you can accept the love he can give you, but none of that will fix something that has been broken from the start. None of that can fix your broken family or bring your sister back to you. 

Love, bandages, not even a nail could solve the issue you have been grappling with for years, and it won’t magically condemn your father to a lifetime of torture like the one he subjected you to. Saving yourself comes at a cost, and sometimes the leftover debt becomes too high to pay with an empty bank account. What do you do then? What do you do if you don’t have the means to pay the cost, not even to fight? 

You slam the car door, locking it with the press of a button. You’re not thinking straight, you try telling yourself, but your body has a mind of its own. 

The stairs leading up to your apartment creak under your footsteps. You take two at a time. Last-minute flights are more expensive, but you have some emergency cash stashed away in your wallet; that should be enough to pay for a flight to London. This is wrong. This is beyond reckless, and if Michael knew, he would move mountains to make sure you would never make it to the airport without opening your eyes and rethinking your decision, but it’s not rationality that drives you. 

Every time you breathe, the hourglass loses another grain of sand. Every time you move without a purpose or care, another second is wasted into oblivion. You can’t run fast enough, but you have to try. 

Hot tears continue to stream down your cheeks, staining your skin with a mixture of sweat and salt. When you finally reach your floor, you search for the right key on your chain with shaky fingers. It has to be somewhere. 

You approach the lock. When you left, you locked it. You know you did. You wrote a note in your phone, just in case you were to wonder if you turned off all appliances and locked the door on your way out. You can never be too careful. Michael’s family plays a huge part in your newfound care. It’s no secret that monsters are no longer just lurking in the dark shadows of an alleyway or under your bed. They are in your head and the people around you, and they are even part of your family—your own flesh and blood. Monsters are everywhere but in the places you expect them to be.

You insert the key, and you stop breathing. The door budges under your touch. You locked the door when you left. You closed it. All windows are shut, and one of your neighbors would have noticed if you had accidentally left one open. They would have called you about any suspicious activity because the old lady in the apartment above yours likes to watch. You’re certain you took the necessary precautions, and yet you push against the wood once, and your door opens completely. 

Your ribs are starting to hurt from how hard your heart is pounding against the sturdy bone. “What the—” you mutter under your breath. It’s a warning sign you expertly ignore.

Anyone else would have called the police at the first sign of foul play, but you can’t bring yourself to pull out your phone. If someone played with the lock, or if someone broke into your apartment, there are many things they could have taken, and you have never felt so sick to the pit of your stomach—not even when you were beaten senseless or had to confess to your father that you got a bad mark on a test, knowing he would make sure the injuries no one could see would hurt a few days longer, perhaps even scar so you could never forget what he did to you. But even without the scars, the memories are fresher than daisies on a spring morning. 

The floorboards creak. Blood rushes to your cheeks. You reach into your bag, fingers wrapping around the small bottle of pepper spray you ordered online one night after a few glasses of wine and a scary encounter with a stranger on your way home from work in the dead of winter. You clutch the small bottle so tightly, you wouldn’t be surprised if you end up spraying yourself. 

The silence is deafeningly loud. It screams into your ear. You’re met not with darkness but with a faint string of light streaming into the hallway from the direction of your living room. You should call the police, you really should, but you don’t. Instead, you breach the doorway and step inside. 

Documents line the floor like a thin carpet. Some pieces are torn while others are still held together neatly in the corners by fragile paper clips. 

You swallow. After Michael accidentally found the file in one of your drawers, you learned from your mistake and hid them somewhere they couldn’t be found. You thought you did because, between the two of you, you are the only ones aware that it even exists. You tried everything to make sure something like this wouldn’t happen. Would’ve, could’ve, should’ve, but nothing could have prepared you for this. 

The blood freezes in your veins. Your hands run cold. Your desk is tipped over, and your couch has been ripped apart at the seams, probably by a sharp blade that cut into the fabric to check the filling inside. You don’t keep any money in the apartment, but the paper trail tells you instantly that whoever did this was not looking for valuables. 

Only a handful of people would profit from that file: those who want to hurt you, and the one person who would take it to protect himself—the Kinsellas and your father. 

Tears spring to your eyes. The fear that spreads through your body at a speed faster than lighting works as a paralytic.  Your father isn’t a criminal mastermind, but he’s ruthless and who knows what he would do if he found out what you are doing behind his back. He wouldn’t just let out all of his anger and frustration on you, he would kill you. If only he knew what you were doing, he would make sure another gravestone would be added next to Ellie’s. He is that kind of person, but not the kind of person powerful enough to orchestrate this. At least that is what you would have believed a few days ago. Now, you’re not so sure anymore what to believe.

The Devil likes to hide in plain sight.

You can only stare and pray to the heavens above that you’re just dreaming. That this isn’t real. That you’re not standing in ruins. You were so careful…

Again, the floorboards creak, but you didn’t take a step this time. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Your skull burns as though someone is glaring daggers into the bone. You can feel another presence in the room, breathing down your neck. Your thumb brushes over the trigger. 

The light switch on the other end of the room cracks under the weight of a heavy fist. This is it, you think. You’re going to die. But—and even if it’s just for a moment, it still crosses your mind—maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

Your ragged breaths break the silence in the sudden darkness. Without warning, a pair of strong arms wraps around you from behind. You cry out, but a gloved hand finds its way over your parted lips. The taste of the leather makes you gag. 

Fear takes over in a storm, but your mind refuses to let you curl up and die. You throw your head back, arms flailing as you scratch at his forearms. DNA is crucial, and no matter what happens, you must fight back. 

You fight back with every ounce of strength left, but it's like struggling against a force of nature. The masked man is relentless as he crushes you against the wall.

With a deafening crash, the wooden shelf next to the still-open front door topples over as he backs against it with you pressed to his sturdy chest, sending shards of glass and ceramic crashing to the ground. 

The pain explodes like a dirty bomb at the side of your skull. He smashes you against the bricks that hide behind the white wallpaper you chose not to paint over after moving here. In the darkness, you can’t see the crimson stain that forms underneath, but the shadow glistens in the moonlight. 

You hit the floor hard, the man tossing you to the floorboards. The impact pushes all the air from your lungs. You gasp, and it burns, but you can’t get the oxygen back where it needs to. 

Desperation claws at your throat as you reach out, grasping for anything to defend yourself. You are okay with dying, but not without putting up a fight. And is the easy way out really what you want to take to your grave after making it so far? You doubt that. Survival moves to the forefront of your mind. Before you can even muster a coherent thought, the masked stranger is on you again, hands locking around your throat. 

You choke, trying to pry him away, but it’s useless. You kick your feet up and forward, desperate for air, and finally knock him off balance. With a growl of frustration, he releases his hold on you.

In the dim moonlight, you catch a glint of porcelain on the floor next to the scattered shelf. It’s the vase that held the flowers Michael gave you on your first date. You didn’t throw them away when they started to wither because you wanted to hold onto that sliver of happiness for a little longer. The sharp piece scratches the inside of your palm, but you continue to reach for it, your teeth gritted as you struggle against your attacker. Eventually, your fingers wrap around the sharp edges, and you try to jab it into his bicep. 

The man leans in close, his hot breath ghosting over your ear. “Just stop…fuckin’ fighting,” he hisses. You don’t recognize his voice. It doesn’t even cross your mind to try and do so; your only motivation is to get out. 

He catches the shard before you can hurt him though. You half-expected him to keep choking you until you pass out or die. Instead, he turns your makeshift weapon around on you. 

Time slows to a crawl. With a primal scream of defiance, you lunge forward, trying to get it back. Yet, it's too late.

The glass pierces your flesh, tearing a gash into your side. The pain knocks the remaining air right out of your lungs. You can’t scream. You can’t cry. 

Blood wells up against your skin. With a final, vicious twist of the glass, the stranger wrenches the shard free from your body. The walls start caving in. You’re trapped in a box, and the water is rising in your lungs.

The floorboards from the apartment above that make up your ceiling start to creak, and the man sits back on his heels, chin tilted up. He curses under his breath. 

You try to catch a glimpse of his face, but the darkness is overwhelming. Again, the floorboards above creak. You want to beg for mercy, maybe even scream for help, but nothing wants to come out. 

The weight on your chest disappears. Your eyes flutter, but you force them to stay open, patting along your trousers. Where is your phone? You hope to God you didn’t leave it in the car. You should have called the police. You should have…

It was foolish to think you would stand a chance against an intruder with a mere bottle of pepper spray. It seems as though he was trained for this very moment. He destroyed your apartment, and now he is reaching for what you were trying to preserve. You don’t know who he is, but he seems to know exactly where to find your little secret, and that makes you sick. The pain makes you sick.

How did he know?

Through blurry eyes, you see the masked figure playing with the file in his hand. He passes by you, the mask moving where he’s smirking. 

“No,” you choke out. “Please…”

He sighs a condescending breath. “Little girls shouldn’t stick their noses into issues that don’t concern them.”

‘What does that even mean?’ you want to scream back at him, but the only sound that passes your lips is a gurgled moan as the tip of his steel boot starts to dig into the wound on your side. 

You reach for him, but he disappears as soon as the light outside turns on and the stairs creak under the weight of your upstairs neighbor—the old lady who once introduced herself as Lilian after you helped her carry her groceries. 

The invisible noose around your neck tightens. You haven’t been this scared in a very long time. If you’d stayed; if you and Michael had talked it out, and if you’d tried to be more rational instead of letting your heart take over, this wouldn’t have happened. 

You fumble for your phone, your fingers slick with your blood. They tremble against the surface of the screen, leaving crimson fingerprints behind. The screen doubles and distorts before your eyes, the numbers dancing mockingly out of reach.

You manage to hit the speed dial for Michael—yes, him, not the police, and that little voice in your head is baffled that you continue making such bad decisions. Your voice is a hoarse whisper as you plead, “Please pick up, please pick up, please…” But there's no answer.

Panic claws at your chest. The phone slips from your grasp, clattering to the floor beside you, into a pool of blood and the remaining shards of the vase. 

Lilian calls out from the other side of the door, her footsteps hurrying down the stairs.

With a last, desperate surge of strength, you reach out, fingers brushing against the cold floor. “Help,” you croak. Your head pounds. It sounds as though you’re screaming.

The door doesn’t budge. Didn’t she hear you? You press the call button again, desperate, but again, Michael doesn’t pick up. You can’t hold your eyes open much longer. You can’t…

The world spins dizzily around you, the darkness threatening to claim you and drag you toward the light. 

You sob, reaching for the throbbing wound in your side. It’s time to accept it for what it is, you figure. Lilian pounds on the door, but the sound is starting to fade as your heartbeat pounds harder and faster against your ribcage and your throat, trying to catch up. You realize it won’t. Not in time. Your heart will grow weak soon. 

You’re unsure how long you lie there, floating in a weird middle space between consciousness and a depth you have never been in before. You dip in your toes, but it won’t quite accept you just yet. You want to jump in. You want to learn to swim, even if you have to drown first. The pressure is taking you under. God, you want it to end. It’s too much, and you hate that you can’t do anything.

Denial works until it doesn’t. 

The door breaks off its hinges. It couldn’t have been Lilian. You feel a hand on your cheek, and the man it belongs to slaps your skin rather roughly. Your eyes flutter open, weak and sensitive to the light.

The old lady must have alerted your other neighbors. Their voices overlap, grow louder, and then disappear. You can only hear your racing heartbeat in your throat. 

Someone applies pressure to your wound, and you cry out. At least you think you do. Your fingers twitch, reaching for the man’s arm. He’s looking at you softly, trying to keep your attention on him, but it’s not him you care about. 

Michael.

It comes out as gibberish. 

“Save your strength,” your neighbor says. “Help is on the way.”

But you fear that the help he mentioned might not make it on time as your eyes close and you decide to succumb to the darkness. You put up enough of a fight for one day. You’re tired, and so you decide to let your eyelids flutter shut and fall into blissful oblivion. 

Tagging: (let me know if you want to be tagged, too!) @bellaxgiornata @mattmurdocksscars @ms-murdockswift @your-not-invisible-to-me @shouldbestudying41 @glowstick-lesbian @acharliecoxedfan @roseallisonparker @norestfortheshelbywicked @1988-fiend @loveroftoomanyfandoms @mattkinsella @schneeflocky @harperdoodle @ravenclaw617 @lunaticgurly @mattmurdocksstarlight @ebathory997

#michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella x you #michael kinsella x f!reader #michael kinsella #kin amc #kin rte #michael kinsella angst #x reader #charlie cox #chaos theory

[ateez-ana]

i can do it with a broken heart

i'm always sad when something about that interview pops up in my… wooyoung is perfect and deserves all the love in the world

..........

The air in the dorm room was thick with unspoken tension. Wooyoung, the usually boisterous member of ATEEZ, sat hunched over his phone, his gaze fixed on the screen, but his mind a million miles away. Ana watched him from across the room, a silent observer to his distress.

'It’s just... it’s just that they said I looked like a pig,' Wooyoung finally mumbled, his voice barely a whisper.

Ana’s heart sank. She knew this interview had gotten to him. Wooyoung, with his infectious laughter and boundless energy, was so confident, but beneath that facade lay a deep insecurity about his appearance.

'What are you talking about?' Ana asked softly, trying to hide her own anxieties. 'You look amazing.'

Wooyoung shook his head, his eyes downcast. 'No, Ana, they actually said it. In the interview. It was live, and it was on camera. I know they meant it as a joke, but it hurt.'

His words echoed a familiar melody in Ana’s own heart 'You know, Wooyoung,' she said, her voice soft but firm, 'I’ve been there too. People constantly compare me to the other idols, make comments about my looks, my talent, even my presence in the group.'

He looked up, surprised. 'What do you mean?'

'I'm the only girl in the group,' she said, her voice softening. 'There's a lot of pressure to be perfect, to be good enough. I get so many comments about my appearance, about my talent, about everything. It's exhausting  I get it. I've been called everything from 'fake' to 'talentless' since our debut. People said I wouldn't last a month, that I was just a pretty face. But I'm still here, fighting for my dream.'

She continued, her voice barely a whisper, 'Right after we debuted, I seriously considered leaving. I felt so lost, so alone even if I had you guys” Her gaze softened, meeting Wooyoung's directly. 'The first fan meeting was the scariest, you know? Two girls came up to us, completely ignoring me to talk to the boys. I felt so invisible, so unimportant. It made me question everything.'

'But then I realized,' she said, her voice gaining a strength that surprised even her, 'I was the only girl, the only one who could be a role model for other girls who dreamed of being on stage. And I wouldn't let the negativity dim my light. I wouldn't let it steal my joy.'

Wooyoung was silent, absorbing her words. He realized that he wasn't alone in his struggles. Ana, the girl who always seemed so confident and strong, was carrying her own burdens.

He reached out and took her hand, his grip firm but gentle. 'You're not alone, Ana. I'm here, and we'll face this together. We're a team, remember? We're Ateez.'

Ana smiled, a flicker of hope lighting up her eyes. 'Yeah, we're Ateez. And we'll fight this together, as a team.'

'It's okay to be insecure, Wooyoung,' Ana said, her voice gentle. 'We all have those doubts. But the important thing is to talk about them, to support each other. You’re not a pig, you're amazing. And I know you see the best in me too.'

Wooyoung nodded, a single tear tracing a path down his cheek. In that shared moment of honesty, the weight on their shoulders seemed to lighten. The room, once heavy with unspoken pain, now vibrated with a newfound sense of understanding. They were two idols, facing the world together, each other's anchors in the storm.

'You're perfect just the way you are, Wooyoung,' Ana said, her voice soft but firm. 'Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.'

Wooyoung looked up, his eyes still damp from the tears he'd tried to hide. He'd been so hurt by the interview, the word 'pig' echoing in his mind like a cruel taunt.

'But... what if I'm not?' he mumbled, his voice barely a whisper.

Ana reached out, her hand resting gently on his arm. 'You are. You're strong, funny, and incredibly talented. You light up every room you walk into. You're the best damn dancer I know.'

And as the first rays of dawn painted the sky, the two roommates sat side by side, their shared vulnerability a silent promise of strength and support. They knew, in that moment, that they were not just bandmates, they were friends, allies, and each other's solace. Their insecurities, once seemingly insurmountable, now felt smaller, lighter, a part of their shared journey. They had found healing, not in denial, but in acceptance, in the warmth of shared vulnerability, in the simple act of being seen and understood.

The weight of her words lifted something heavy in Wooyoung's chest. He looked at Ana, her face illuminated by the soft glow of the day , and he knew, deep in his heart, she was right. He didn't need to change for anyone. He was perfectly, beautifully himself.

#ateez #ateez 9th member #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez ninth member #ateez fake texts #wooyoung

[kakashixhatakesxwhore]

hi! could you do the husband headcanons but for sasuke and suigetsu? ty <333

aight lets pop a lil part 2!!! thank you for the ask!!

Husband Headcanons II

for Sasuke and Suigetsu, with additions of Shikamaru, Neji, and Naruto (GN!Reader)

Your fav isn't mentioned? Check out Husband Headcanons 1, or shoot me a request!

Warnings: Crude language, swearing, alcohol mentions, cigarette mentions, lmk if this sucks

Masterlist💿

Sasuke

A very extravagant ceremony, but only populated by a select few people (friends and family)

The reception lasted until the sun started to shine over the horizon, leaving both you and Sasuke too inebriated to comsumate your marriage that night - the two of you hust stumbled home, tripping over each other's feet, and then threw yourselves onto the Queen bed you shared, falling asleep instantly

Your honeymoon would be a nice week spent in the Tea Lands of the Land of Flowers, sampling various blends and discovering a whole new world of aphrodisiacs

He would give you the time of day, every day, even a decade into your union

Every night, unless he absolutely couldn't, Sasuke would be with you, adoring you and teasing you, helping you care for any children the two of you may share

After so much time and so many events, Sasuke still finds you to be the most beautiful person in the world, and strives to prove his love to you in any way he can, whenever he can

Be that a prolonged embrace, or conversations that stretch forever, Sasuke would provide all the company in the world to you

On the few days he had to call his own, he would spend every waking second with you, taking you anywhere your heart desired

Sasuke would shower you in material love as well, ensuring that no matter which corner of your home you turned to, you'd see something from him and be reminded of his eternal promise

Suigetsu

He wanted a massive wedding, and to invite every living creature on the mortal plane - you talked him down, of course, getting him to settle on an open ceremony

A good chunk of people sent their RSVPs back, but you were boggled by how many people indeed turned up - it seemed Suigetsu had friends around the globe, all terribly excited to watch a beautiful ceremony and get totally fucked up at the reception

You and Suigetsu spent most of your reception dancing, with you having to discard your shoes an hour or two deep to properly get into your groove

He carried you home happily, just peaking with vigour, describing the rest of your night in salacious detail

To your joy, he delivered, almost having undershot his own capability

In the day to day, Suigetsu finds that it's easier to just not deligate homely tasks - if it's an issue now, it's your issue, Noticer

That said, he doesn't shirk responsibility by feigning ignorance; Suigetsu is actually very helpful around the house, cleaning up the mess before he left any room

Every few months, he'll come home with a huge bouquet of multi-coloured flowers, with one glass flower, hidden in the lively petals

"When the final flower dies, I'll stop loving you."

You have a collection of the glass flowers on your night stand - they greeted you every morning and whispered about love every night, always reinforcing Suigetsu's commitment to you

Shikamaru

You and Shikamaru, being from hauty clans, were sick to death of the arrangement-talks

So, you eloped

At the break of dawn, you and Shikamaru began traveling to the Land of Lightning - you made it to the Land of Hotsprings and got a room at an inn in the Hidden Steam, staying the night, before making it to the Hidden Cloud before noon the next day

The two of you signed the paperwork and paid the fees for an International Marriage License then spent the rest of your wedding day walking around the Hidden Cloud

You had to go back to the Hidden Leaf soon enough, and when you did, you presented the marriage license to your father and told him there was nothing to be done about it - he could keep the dowry and expect no bride price

Both clans were unimpressed by the impulsiveness of your actions, but soon you and Shikamaru were allowed to honeymoon in the Land of Frost, the land which you skipped over in your journey to the Cloud

Despite never making any grand gestures, or writing any sonnets about you, Shikamaru lets you know he loves you in a multitude of other ways

He takes you out constantly, always needing to show you off and find things that you both could enjoy - he's always complimenting you, no matter the audience, just so you know that he thinks you're the most divine sight in the world

The most frequent pastime the two of you share is rolling cigarettes - talking for hours and hours, you and Shikamaru fold, load, and roll the white papers into perfect cylinders

You two would roll too many for one smoker to ever keep up, and you had to stop buying metal tins for storage, switching to folding up paper boxes to put the blems in

It became something of a business, selling the pre-rolled cigarettes in paper boxes to the adults of the village

The dimes you two got for your work and tobacco didn't matter to Shikamaru, he was just content, being present with you in the moment

Neji

Sweet darling Neji would have no choice but to invite the entire Hyuga clan, even though he wanted an intimate ceremony

It's okay, it's alright, so long as you're the one coming down the aisle, Neji would be happy

He cries when he sees you, overwhelmed by loving emotions and hope for a future as bright as your smile

Once the wedding guests left, and the ceremony switched to reception, Neji got to cut loose in front of only his closest friends and celebrate the victory of his union with you

He was insatiable at the bar, for only an hour

Then he was pasted to your side, just waiting for the reception to be over, whispering and teasing you about how excited you must be for the after-afterparty

It was projection, but he was right

You two called off the reception early, antsy to get back to your shared home

For the honeymoon, Neji takes you to the Southern border of the Grasslands and Waterlands - to a village that sat at the junction of a waterfall and a luscious field

The village was breathtaking, and Neji took you all over, even behind the waterfall

Neji's constantly taking you different places, allowing you to take the advantage of his position as a DIPLOMAT (yeah, he didn't die, he needed a job) that he wished he could

After every long meeting, he comes back to you, and will always suggest a walk at some point or another, no matter where you are in the world

But your favourite place to walk, and Neji's, was around the Hyuga compound in the Hidden Leaf, and just outside to where you two met - neither of you could turn down a chance to reminisce

Naruto

Huge ceremony, literally everyone who's anyone is there - Naruto organized firecrackers to shoot off during the uniting kiss, which scared the hell out of you but made him laugh, taking you safely into his arms and placing a reassuring kiss to your lips

The reception seemed to be even bigger, not a soul leaving, and a partying spirit vibrant in the air

You and Naruto wowed the crowd with a series of dances, but settled to watch the communal joy together after a little while

Gentlemanly, Naruto whisked you away from the recption, not wanting to disturb the party but not being able to spend another second not ravishing you like the treat you are

Not just wanting to take you to some stupid Land for your honeymoon, Naruto purchased a sail boat to take you out for a month

On the ocean, the two of you quickly got your bearings and grew even closer than before

You traveled from Land to Land, stopping to port every few weeks to pick up some food and put empty crates back into circulation

At one point, your path crossed with that of a pirate ship - Naruto made quick work of them, ensuring your safety without doubt

It's an entire adventure, out where the horizon blends, melding sky and sea together

Whatever you enjoy, Naruto will not only supply, but try to enjoy, himself

If you like to read, he'll get you every book his wallet can stretch for, and then he'll read the books right after you're done with them, readying himself to talk about themes and motifs with you, even if the concepts don't quite click for him

He's always trying for you - trying new foods, new things, new experiences, new looks

Naruto can't believe you're really in love with him, even after being married for so long, so he feels the need to constantly improve for you, to be the man he thinks you deserve

That's his favourite thing about you: the way you incline him to further his abilities, always encouraging him to be the best he can be

Naruto would just be smitten with you, and always would be, and you would always be his personal cheerleader

#sasuke x reader #suigetsu x reader #shikamaru x reader #neji x reader #naruto x reader #sasuke uchiha #suigetsu #suigetsu hozuki #shikamaru nara #neji hyuga #naruto uzumaki #uchiha sasuke #uzumaki naruto #hyuga neji #nara shikamaru #naruto headcanons #naruto hcs #headcanon list #naruto fanfiction

[its-in-the-woods]

Chapter 3 of down the rabbit hole

Chapter one here , two here , four here

MDNI

Pairing: Walton Goggins x You

Rating/warnings? IDK: Will just keep mature okay. Minors get out. Heavy mention of alcohol, blackouts, drunken shenanigans, hints at SA, awkwardness,

Slow build like novel damn length okay, Very Fluffy, Pinch of Angst, Relationship Development, Hurt/Comfort, Older man/ Younger(30s) women, Alternative universe, fictional work (IDK WHY BUT I AM PUTTING IT) Probably more as I go.

Synopsis: Working in film as a make-up artist is hard enough, but then Walton Goggins requests you, well it's way too easy to fall down the rabbit hole.

Note: they are both single, all for fun.

WARNING I do not have this all written out, I do have it plotted out, but it may be a little slower for chapters to come out. Please bear with me. If you know a Beta to edit please send them to me.

Thank you all for the support! This gets cute and flirty. Let me know what you think. ***

The bar is a hole-in-the-wall place, with the fifteen or so crew and four actors the place is packed. It’s laid out with a bar at the front, couches, and comfortable chairs in the back. You find a spot closer to the back, a gin and tonic in hand. Trevor is talking with Decon at the front, the two men are practically making out. You chuckle and sip your drink. Rebecca from Costumes sits beside you, the woman is all fluid grace. 

“Hey, how’s it going?” She smiles and sips her drink, short hair with sides buzzed, various botanical tattoos draping down her shoulder. Piercing brown eyes and a soft face that always had a small smile. She was draped in all black, which was of course fitted perfectly. 

“It’s going pretty good, nice to get out after a long week.” You reply, watching people mill around the place. You knew almost everyone here, aside from a couple of the extras. Most folks were chatting and drinks were flowing. 

“Oh man, it sure has. I am happy they stuck me in the studio for the next week.” 

“I will take the studio over driving any day. The city is atrocious to get around on a good day. Add in construction I would rather take the studio regularly.” You reply, having lived here for close to a decade and there was never not construction. You weren’t even sure what the construction was for anymore. 

The two of you chit-chat for a while, going over different projects. Discussing a little about the union politics and the fact that the industry was saturated because of the fifteen film schools. It’s nice, even welcomed. You’re now on your third drink and the world is getting a little tipsy. Rebecca has moved over, and Neal from props is talking to you. He was discussing some builds he was looking at doing for a Sci-fi show coming up at the end of the year. You listened intently, you had always loved props and had considered moving to that department at some point. 

The night carries on, you are buzzed now. The realization that you are going to need to get an Uber is at the front of your mind. You make your way to the bar in sesrch for some much needed water. When you look over to see Trevor grinning and moving towards you. 

“Hey sweety,” He says, words tripping over each other. The man was also as drunk as you are. “Me and Decon are gonna probably share an Uber to his place. Do you want to catch a ride with us?’

His eyes are bright if a little fuzzy, Decon is staring at him with hunger in his face. You can’t blame the man Trevor was fine as hell. If he wasn’t gay as a unicorn, you’d be tempted. 

“Umm, I am pretty sure that you both live at the other end of town from me,” You are surprised you can actually remember where Trevor lives, much less that Decon was in the same area.

“Oh. Well,” His face screwed up like he was trying to solve world hunger and not how to get home. 

Walton emerges from the groups of people, his face is slightly flushed, but out of all of them, he is probably the least inebriated. He takes in the three of you, you can see the wheels turning. 

“What is going on, if you’re arranging a three-way I will have to excuse myself, I hate being a fourth wheel,” The man chuckles at his own joke, Decon looks slightly confused looking between all of you. 

You let out a small snort, “No, just figuring out rides home. I live in the opposite direction of these two.” You gesture to the two men who are heavily leaning against each other. 

“Nonsense, I will make sure you get home safely,” Walton says looking at both of them. “You two lovebirds go and have a wild night. I will make sure the lady will get home.”

“You sure Mr.Goggins,” Decon asks, he is a good head shorter than Trevor but built thicker with shaggy blonde hair.

“Walton,” He smiles, “Definitely, she will be taken care of.”

“The lady also agrees,” You sigh, leaning slightly against the older man. You can feel how warm he is, it’s hard not to rest against him

“Okay,” Trevor chuckles, “Have fun, don’t do anything I would do. Or. You know do.”  

You watch Trevor and Decon stumble out of the bar. Part of you is jealous that they had someone to go home to. You relax and going to find yourself a spot on the couch. A moment later Walton slid in beside you. You’re happy your face is already flushed from the alcohol as his thighs touch yours. 

“Hey,” He says in a hushed tone, sipping of what smells faintly of scotch. He hands you a glass of water which you greatly appreciate. 

“Hey,” You reply, meeting his gaze. “How are you fairing?”

He smiles and looks around the room, “Honestly, I am kind of over it.”  

You giggle looking around at the same time. A few people had left, some people lingered in groups, and a few had divided into pairs. The mood has chilled out a little, the music dropped down a few notches. It’s comfortable and cozy, but that might be liquor. 

“It could be worse, we could have to work tomorrow.” You look back at him. The man was now staring at you as if every word you said was important. You fail to hold his gaze, damn liquor was making you melt.

“Mmm but at least I’d get to hang out with you,” He said with a crooked smile gracing his lips. You were pretty positive the man new the effect he had on you. 

“Oh stop,” You giggle, shaking your head and taking another sip of water.  “I know you enjoy the days off as much as any of us.”

“Suppose I do, it doesn't change the fact I like getting to spend time with you.” The Southern slipping in, making you almost choke on your drink. 

You roll your eyes but relax beside him, part of you just wants to lean against his chest and let the alcohol relax your inhibitions. You both talk about traveling, you had spent a few months traveling around the Philippines, Taiwan, and Korea. He talked about being in Japan, and China. Sharing info on some of the favorite foods you had a chance to eat, and how you both looked forward to traveling again in the future. You decide in haze to have a few more drinks, as the two of you continue to chat about the future. 

When the bartender calls closing you go to stand and the whole world spins around. You nearly fall over but someone grabs you before it all goes dark. 

***

Light is peering around the blinds, and you groan at the splitting headache and nausea filling your already foggy brain. Reaching around you find the side table, a bottle of Tylenol, and a glass of water. You take two tablets and bury yourself under the covers, falling into a restless sleep. 

There is more light now, and though your headache is marginally better you still feel like you’ve been run over by a truck. Blinking a few times you realize you’re not in your room. This room is fairly close to the size of the apartment you live in. The walls are basic contractor beige with generic artwork. There is a closet, two side tables, a darkened bathroom, and a chair near the end of the bed where you can see your jacket and purse sitting on it. Your phone is on the side table, plugged in, beside you along with a powerade and glass of water. Swinging yourself out of bed you are grateful to see you are still dressed, sans shoes, socks, and your jacket. Your clothes are uncomfortable but not as if they had been taken off and put back on. You straighten yourself a bit, rubbing your aching forehead. You grab the water and drink most of it. It makes your stomach lurch and for a moment you briefly wonder if the water is going to come back up. 

Settled, you quietly walk over to the attached bathroom. You don’t bother turning on the light, already knowing that you look like hell. You grab a face towel and wash what was left of last night's eyeliner and mascara off.  Making sure to clean the towel well so that it doesn’t stain. You take out your braids and rub at your sore scalp. Giving yourself a moment on the toilet before washing up and rubbing more cold water on your face. You feel a little more human than when you walk back to the room. That cold stone of anxiety rolls around and you try and push it away. Whoever had brought you here hadn’t done anything. You were currently safe and could catch an Uber home. 

Gathering up your things and the bottle of Powerade you slowly open the door. There is the faint sound of music coming from down the hallway. You tiptoe down the way hoping to see a front door to slip out of. At the end of the hallway, the place opened up into a kitchen/living room area. A man was standing in the kitchen singing the song that was playing. The door out was across from the kitchen.  

It wasn’t just any man, it was Walton. Hair fluffed up, wearing a pair of christmas pjs, and white cotton top. Singing and dancing around the kitchen. You freeze and wonder if you should go back into the bedroom and throw yourself out the window. Maybe there would be a fire escape, or maybe you’d just let yourself be swallowed up by the pavement instead of facing him. Letting out a small breath you push yourself into the light of the day, feeling completely at a loss. You weren’t going to be able to sneak out, might as well get the awkwardness over with. 

“Umm. Hey,” You squeak, placing your things onto a chair at the small dining table. 

Walton jumps and turns back to you, his glasses nearly falling off his face,a brief moment of fear is erased by a big smile. “Hey! You’re up. Sorry, did I wake you?” Pushing up his glasses with the back of his wrist. 

You shake your head taking a small sip out of your bottle. The smell of bacon and pancakes makes your stomach growl. How you could be both be hungry and hungover should be studied by scientists.

“No, I am usually up early.”  You give a weake smile. It was true, even on your days off you were usually up between seven and eight. 

“I made breakfast?” He looks so out of place and nervous, pointing to a couple of plates. His usual charisma was replaced with jittery energy. Then again you’d probably be nervous too if one of your drunk co-workers slept at your house.

“That sounds amazing.” You say grabbing both full plates and taking them over to the table. You have no idea what the hell you’re doing, all you wanted to do was leave. At the same time, you were not going to turn him down. The thought of him being disappointed was worse than the awkwardness of staying. 

He slips into the seat beside you handing you a fork and knife, placing some maple syrup on the table. Getting up, again, to grab two mugs and the pot of coffee, he whirls around the place grabbing some cream and sugar too. 

“Thank you, umm for breakfast,” You say, not really sure how to feel about the whole situation. You had very hazy memory about the rest of your evening at the bar. Most of it was just blank. “How did I end up here?”

Walton’s face falls as he looks at you, “Oh, shit. I should have told you. Probably don’t remember coming here.”

You nod your head, suppressing a smile at how flustered he is.

“I tried to bring you home, but you won’t give me your address or wallet. Kept saying you weren’t bringing home ‘no random man’. Kept trying to convince me to just put you in a cab .” 

You laugh at that. “Of course I did.”

“Trevor wasn’t answering so we brought you here. Ahh- I promise nothing happened. I just took off your shoes cause they looked uncomfortable. Plus socks in bed always feel weird.” The jumble of words spilled out as he looked at you for reassurance. 

Your hand finds itself resting on top of his wrist. “Thank you, I appreciate you not leaving me at the bar.” It was kind of him, most people would have just dropped you into a cab and be done with it. But of course, Walton would make sure everyone got home safe, the man was gentleman. 

Walton looks shocked at the last statement. His hand slips up and takes yours. It feels weirdly natural, his larger hand engulfing yours as he rubs his thumb of your fingers absentmindly.

“Oh no. I would never leave you- at a random spot.” He says quickly adding the last bit as his cheeks go slightly pink. You briefly wonder why he would be so flustered, you wouldn’t have blamed him for just letting you take a cab. 

“You're a good man and the food smells amazing.” You smile back, squeezing his hand slightly. It felt so easy just to sit here at the table holding hands. 

Both of you dig into the food, and despite still feeling hungover the food hits the spot. Walton explained as best he could the rest of the night.  You had apparently also hit Leonard, his driver when the man had held your waist trying to help you into the vehicle.

“I will make sure to apologize to him on Monday.” You make a face. “Probably a good reason for me not to go out so much.”

Walton looks taken aback by this, “Leo will be more than fine. I can guarantee he has dealt with the worst. Plus besides that, you were very much welcome company.” 

“Still though.” You shake your head. You grab his plate and stack it before bringing it to the sink. 

The habit of putting things into the dishwasher is in full effect. You help him clean up, and it all feels much too easy. You take a sip of water, the headache still lingers and all you really want is a shower and some sleep. Silently you scold yourself for letting the night get away from you. You had never been a bigger drinker to begin with, and letting yourself get black-out drunk was not exactly something you wanted on your resume. 

“Thank you for- umm- looking after me. I should really get going.” You say feeling flustered, thinking about the fact that you’d love to just crawl into bed with him. Let him tell you stories of his travels as you drift off to sleep. Maybe you could both have a shower and then-

“Can I drive you home?” Walton wakes you from your daydream. “If you are comfortable with me knowing where you live-”

You blink a few times, trying to get your brains to string a few words together. “Oh no, I couldn’t ask you to do that. You’ve already done so much for me.”

He shrugs, “It’s really not a big deal. I promise” 

Your resolve crumbles, what were you supposed to do to disappoint him and say no? No there was not disappointing this sweet man. You’d do near anything just to see him smile. 

***

Walton drives you home, you’re surprised he drives something as utilitarian as a Toyota  4runner. At the same time, who are you to judge, you have been driving the same Honda Accord for almost a decade. You both chat about the city, Walton seems enamored with the mountains, so close to the sea, and tons of places to explore. You talk about your favorite hole-in-the-wall restaurants, and Walton recommends a few decent bars. The chatter is easy, it’s always been easy you realize. The pace and flow were as if you had been talking to him for years ike you were old friends. 

“That’s me,” You say with a weak smile, the idea of having to go home wasn’t as appealing. Your tiny little studio apartment, with its leaky windows and smoke-smelling hallways. At the same time, you know you can’t stay in the vehicle all weekend. 

“So it is,” Walton says, he looks almost as disappointed as you do. “What time should I pick up Monday?”

Taken aback by the question you look at him with your mouth open.

“Your car is still at the studio.” He replies that little mischievous glint in his eye. You wonder if this was his plan all along. 

“Oh. Dang-it. It’s alright I will catch a bus.” You say, trying not to be dismissive but also not wanting to bother him. Realistically he probably had better things to do then pick you up. 

“No. I insist. I was the one that invited you to the bar.”  Walton states a small smile growing as he watches you. You realize that you aren’t going to be able to say no to him, and at the same time, you don’t want to either. 

“I will be outside around 6 am if that works?”

His smile widens, making your heart do little backflips, “Sounds good, I will see you then.”

Chapter four

*This was so much fun to write. I am excited to see where things go next! As always likes comments reblogs are greatly appreciated .*

#down the rabbit hole #walton goggins #walton goggins x you #walton goggins x reader #fanfic #Writing #Writer #Au #alternate universe #Fiction #Romance #Idk what to rag #Fluff #domestic fluff

[sailoms]

and if i fall in love with his love, then what?

#userdramas #asiandramanet #tong thanayut #kinnporsche #barcode tinnasit #build jakapan #nodt nutthasid #jj chalach #userbillkin #userkhao #usernuria #lextag #usergooseras #tonanons #kanaphanz.gif #bas might be my hyperfixation but i will give the world for tong thanayut if he asks me #he just carries all the love and will share all the love to the world #and giving him back the world he has genuinely taken care of #is the least that a man could do #and no i dont love him like how i said i love a character #i love him like a kid loves their foods when they're starving #in tgcf words #i'd be his huacheng and he can be my xielian fr #i worship his love #kinnporschesource

[noxtivagus]

I LOVE FINAL FANTASY SO MUCH

#🌙.rambles #coping mechanism!!!! all left i have to do for school this week is just smth easy for math :] then after that it's the weekend n all #i will use fiction ! as an escape ! wooooo . my thoughts are suffocating. n i am so goddamn tired c: #fuck i am so tired of being trapped in my mind n being bind down by my past n everything. just everything #wait i feel like crying why is dynamis playing god i love ff sm.... i am actually crying rn it saved me. it really saved me back then. n no #i am such a goddamn slave to sentiment. to nostalgia. to memories n the past n everything i have lived through. it all means sm to me n #that's one reason why it hurts. i love it all so much but it's so fleeting it hurts.... oh this is bad i am actually crying a lot right now #how do i carry it all? how do i remember it all? i can't die i can't forget i can't deny all these bcs as much as it hurts #it reminds me that i'm alive yk? these memories these words serve as proof that. in the past. once upon a time it really was real #n the concept of reality is something i'm so weak to bcs it feels so lonely in my inner worlds #oh despite all this pain i'm still soft at heart huh. i'm crying so much. #so much thoughts i have. that i don't know how to write. but i try so much to share what i can despite how afraid i often get #when you live a life i have. in these worlds i have. in my head. it's so lonely. it's so so lonely #n. god ffxiv makes me so vulnerable in a way that. fiction is something that's. i really grew up with it being #sometimes even stronger or more present than my own reality #i've always loved the stars too. the moon. celestial beings. everything i've read in those books; whether it be fiction or non-fiction #but always. always something far from my reach. so to have something so real to be a part of #wait i'm crying even more i remember again HAHA fuck wait listening to dynamis rn is making me even more emotional #hermes as a character. i feel like he felt like he didn't belong. he wanted answers. to be understood. to understand. #n we're so similar in that regard. n i'm so weak to those sort of similarities yk? it means sm to me when i've always felt so different #ffxiv here is. it's fiction. so i can freely lose myself here. fly as high as i can without fear of. idk. maybe the #vulnerability n ephemerality of reality...? it's so beautiful. it really is n i wonder if i ever really belong there #sob i realize. there. i've been so accustomed to always reaching out futiley to something i can't have. does not exist. or yeah #reaching out to a past i cannot relive. just to remember again how it was exactly in those moments. or a future i'm uncertain of #or the present. which i'm not ever quite sure about what exactly it is. or what's going on. or myself. #understanding. understanding.... until i understand all i can of this world n finally accept that i too am living n real. i won't give up. #there's so much to life that will forever be left undone. i'll do as much as i can. so i can hold unto my humanity. unto reality. im crying #i did not expect to cry so much tonight;;; but maybe i still underestimate the pain i carry. i deserve too the kindness that i give others #because i'm human too. i'm young. n i know what that means to me. sm thoughts sm words it hurts sm im crying. but fuck that i'm still alive #i'm so confused i'm so lost. on what really is my reality. on who i am. god it's so overwhelming i don't know where to start it hurts .

[zarameraki]

♡₊˚🥀₊✧ 𝘀𝘂𝗸𝘂𝗻𝗮 𝗶𝘀 𝗼𝗯𝘀𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗰𝘂𝗯𝗶𝗻𝗲 ♡₊˚🥀₊✧

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 king x concubine 𖥔 lots of plot with porn 𖥔 mentions of abuse 𖥔 mentions of sexual assault 𖥔 normal form sukuna (sorry yall but next time ill do his big boy one) 𖥔 he only has eyes for you 𖥔 you're his darling 𖥔 he would kill for you 𖥔 breeding (!!!!) 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 smut

: ̗̀➛ words: 8.8k

: ̗̀➛ notes: this took a whole WEEK to edit. im so obsessed with this story. it's my favourite thing ive written because i love period movies and dramas and really got to challenge my writing skills to give it more a fantasy-esque element. if you have any requests, don’t hesitate to send them. pls follow, reblog, like, comment—whatever you want! okay love you and enjoy.

The diligent hands of Lord Sukuna Ryomen’s palace attendants scrubbed away the grime that clung to every inch of your weary form. There were no traces of tears in your eyes, despite the discomfort of the cleansing process.

Perhaps it was the residue of gratitude for an escape from a foster family who saw fit to barter you away for a pittance to fuel their vices.

The water surrounding you had transformed into a murky haze, carrying away the evidence of your former life's hardships.

Yet, amidst this cleansing ritual, you couldn’t shake the puzzling thought of why the guards had singled you out from the other young women within the household. Uraume, the overseer of palace affairs, had arrived alongside them, their presence looming over the proceedings with an air of mystery.

That morning, you were subjected to abuse in front of everyone at the central market, longing for someone to stand up for you. And someone did. They offered you an escape from that hellhole and into a world of luxury.

You weren’t going to complain now that you had accepted this new fate of yours.

“Ya’ got too many scars, girl,” remarked one of the elderly attendants, gently assisting you out of the steaming bath, her hands wrapping a towel around your shivering form. “Our powders will struggle to conceal ’em all. How did ya’ come by such marks?”

“From my foster family,” you murmured, gaze fixed upon your toes as if they held the weight of your past. The plush carpet beneath your feet offered a small comfort, a luxury unfamiliar to your upbringing.

Memories of their harsh discipline flooded back—the blistering gravel underfoot as punishment for daring to voice dissent. It was a brutal introduction to a world where obedience was paramount.

“A wretched lot,” the attendant muttered sympathetically.

Enveloped in a silk robe, she led you into a chamber shared by a cohort of women, a realm far removed from the confines of your previous abode. Here, space was ample—the expanse excessive, with beds lining the walls and a high ceiling adorned with a single chandelier.

As you entered, a symphony of pretty faces and inquisitive gazes greeted you. Women of all colours and shapes reclined luxuriously in plain robes, their hair intricately braided or cascading freely down their backs. Conversations paused, curiosity piqued by your arrival, as all eyes turned to welcome you into their midst.

Beneath the weight of their scrutinising stares, you found yourself shrinking. These women, draped in silk and adorned with jewels, were the king's favoured concubines, a fact repeatedly emphasised during your journey to the palace and even in the fragrant confines of the bathhouse.

Every instinct urged you to rebel, to refuse to be just another ornament in the king’s harem, but you understood the value placed on purity by the monarch.

Unfortunately, your innocence had been cruelly stolen from you by your foster father, leaving you tarnished in body and spirit. Lord Sukuna would have no use for a damaged flower in his garden of perfection.

In truth, you couldn’t even imagine an image of his face in your mind. His Lordship remained a mystery to those beyond the palace walls.

“Here ya’ are.” The attendant guided you to your bed. “That vanity there’s yours to use.” She gestured toward the communal area by the window, where two other young women were preparing themselves. “Once your hair dries, one of my girls will assist ya’ in preparin’ for your audience with His Lordship.” Her touch was gentle as she caressed your cheek. “Rest assured, dear, ya’ safe now.”

You attempted a smile, though the effort seemed Herculean amidst your weariness.

As the attendant departed, her scolding to the rowdy girls fading into the background, you nestled into the comforting embrace of your soft bedding, ignoring the hushed criticisms trailing in your wake.

She’s feeble.

Her hair lacks refinement.

The king would never entertain a lowly pauper.

She’ll be gone by tomorrow.

Their words, like venomous serpents, slithered through the air.

Amidst their degradation, you succumbed to exhaustion.

But your slumber was interrupted by the bustling commotion of handmaidens assembling around you.

Disoriented and scarcely given a moment to collect your thoughts, you found yourself swiftly escorted to the vanity, where the clamour of girls jostling for space filled the air.

They manipulated your locks, weaving intricate patterns into your hair, fashioning a crown braid atop your head while allowing the remaining tresses to cascade freely down your back.

Meanwhile, other attendants removed your robe, their hands moving with practised efficiency as they anointed your skin with fragrant oils, infusing it with the delicate essence of lavender.

Between the flurry of activity, the whispers of your fellow concubines hung in the air like a veil of awe and trepidation. Their eyes were drawn to the scars marring your skin, as they speculated about how the king would perceive your imperfections as repulsive.

Good.

You craved precisely that outcome.

If the king recoiled at your sight, it meant he wouldn’t desire you to bear his heir. If the tales circulating in the town about his monstrous nature held any truth, then he’d likely offer you death as a reprieve—and you’d welcome it with open arms.

Before facing the king, you stole a glance at your reflection, the final moments of solitude before your fate was decided. The powder concealed the imperfections of your skin, rendering it smooth and flawless. Your cheeks and lips bore a muted hue reminiscent of crushed cherries. Delicate white blossoms adorned your hair, woven into your braids by nimble fingers.

As you stood, the other women adorned you in a robe of silky fabric, its floral pattern draping over your form, cinched at the waist to accentuate your curves. Barefoot, you followed them out, the chill of the floor beneath your feet a stark contrast to the warmth of anticipation and trepidation swirling within you.

“Good luck, pauper,” taunted one of the concubines, her voice dripping with disdain, echoed by a cacophony of mocking laughter.

Palms clammy with nerves, you shifted your gaze to the opulence of the palace corridors. Adorned with countless chandeliers and swathes of velvet drapery, they offered a stark contrast to the blooming back garden. Memories of tending to the earth and nurturing life back at your foster family’s home flooded your mind.

“Quickly now,” one of the maids urged, her voice tinged with urgency. “His Lordship detests tardiness.”

“I apologise.” You hastened your steps to keep pace with the group of attendants.

She halted before a grand set of double doors, guarded by imposing sentinels clad in formidable armour. With a flick of her wrist, the guards swung the doors open. She gently nudged you forward, and only as you crossed the threshold did the doors seal shut behind you.

You blinked, adjusting to the dimness within, scanning the chamber until your gaze alighted upon a pair of crimson glimmers opposite you. “My Lord?” You inclined your head and took hesitant steps toward the source of those fiery eyes.

“Come closer,” his command echoed through the chamber, sending a shiver down your spine. The low resonance of His Highness Sukuna Ryomen’s voice was unexpectedly rich and velvety. You had envisioned a voice tinged with age, but instead, it possessed a rough texture that awoken something within you.

With hesitant steps, you approached until you stood at the edge of his bed, your fingertips grazing the diaphanous curtains that enveloped him in a cocoon of privacy.

“Closer,” he urged, coaxing you to unveil the enigma lying beyond the veil.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you obeyed, parting the curtains and gracefully crawled onto the mattress. The silkiness of the sheets were a blatant contrast to the roughness of your foster house’s. A pang of guilt tugged at your conscience as you realized the irony of finding solace in this luxurious confinement of being his concubine.

“Enough.” His abrupt order halted your thoughts, drawing your attention back to the present moment.

As commanded, you obediently settled into your posture, folding your legs beneath you in the dimness. Within his shadowed realm, only the luminous crimson irises pierced through the gloom, studying you with an intensity that made your belly churn. Despite the curiosity burning within you, you restrained the impulse to voice your questions. Instead, you settled in the tranquillity that crowded the space between you.

“What is your name?” His inquiry cut through the hushed air.

“Y/N, my Lord.”

As your name slipped from your lips, he captured it delicately, repeating it like a sacred prayer. Each syllable danced on his tongue, imprinting itself upon the very essence of his being. In that moment, you observed a subtle shift—the shadows that had cloaked the chamber seemed to dissipate.

A soft, golden luminescence filtered through the parted curtains, cascading across half of Sukuna’s face.

You blinked in astonishment.

He appeared . . . young?

The age difference between you and him was not a chasm of decades, but rather a modest gap of no less than five years.

Physically, at least.

His appearance was striking, with locks of hair dyed a subdued pink hue, contrasting with a streak of darker shade beneath. His hair was styled into rugged spikes, lending an air of defiance. Intricate black markings adorned his features, tracing a path from his cheekbones down to his chin, while similar patterns wove across his strong shoulder, cascading over his defined pectoral muscles and sculpted abdomen.

As your eyes fell upon him, your heart quickened its pace, each beat a vicious drumming against your ribs. Gone was the expectation of a lord showing the signs of wisdom, with wrinkles upon his brow and a body marked by the passage of time. Instead, before you stood a vision of breathtaking beauty, defying your preconceived notions and leaving you breathless in awe.

With a graceful gesture, he swept aside the curtains, allowing them to unveil his entirety.

The same markings mirrored the other side of his face and cascaded down the length of his body, a mesmerising display of symmetry. Dark bands encircled his wrists, and his nails bore the same deep hue.

Poised against the headboard, he reclined with an air of effortless elegance, one knee raised as his elbow found a comfortable perch, while the other leg extended out. Though he was unclothed, a veil of silk sheets cloaked the lower half of his form.

“Remarkable,” you unknowingly whispered. Your hand clapped over your mouth. “I apologise, my Lord.”

Sukuna’s lips curved into a sinister grin, his flawless teeth gleaming in the golden light. While many would flee at the sight, you remained rooted in place, unable to tear your gaze away. A delicate flush spread across your cheeks, betraying the undeniable attraction simmering between your legs. He was absolutely divine, and the path of being his concubine suddenly didn’t seem so terrible.

Yet, the reality of sharing Sukuna with ten other women loomed over your thoughts like a shadow. The thought of him spreading his affections among so many others kindled a small flame of jealousy within you, mingled with confusion. Why hadn’t he impregnated at least one of them with the promise of an heir?

“Have you not been schooled in the art of lowering your gaze in the presence of nobility, Y/N?”

Your lashes fluttered as you registered your lapse in decorum, hastily averting your gaze. “Forgive me, my Lord, if my oversight has caused offence.” Surely, he wouldn’t punish you for a momentary lapse of admiration.

Would he?

A gentle touch beneath your chin guided your face upward. His fingers spread across your cheek, the warmth nearly forcing you to curve into his touch. Despite the temptation, your eyes remained obediently downward.

“Look at me.”

Your gaze lingered on him, tracing the delicate patterns etched over his cheek, the fiery hue of his irises, the elegant contour of his nose, and the soft curvature of his lips. Never before had you felt such a rousing desire towards any man. Yet fate had chosen to ensnare your heart with the one most forbidden to you.

“You bear a sadness that weighs heavily in your eyes,” he noted softly, his hand descending to the curve of your neck, his thumb caressing the frantic rhythm of your pulse. A low, melodic sound produced from his throat. “Tell me, my love, does the face before you stir fear within your heart?”

“It does not, my Lord. The fear of your appearance holds no dominion over me,” you declared with quiet resolve. “You’re quite . . . beautiful.”

Sukuna’s gaze sparked with a mixture of surprise and intrigue at your response.

Suppressing a nervous gulp, you silently reprimanded yourself for speaking so boldly to one of noble rank. Back in the confines of your former life, such defiance would have earned you swift punishment, yet here, in the presence of royalty, it could lead to your demise.

As you prepared to avert your gaze, ready to accept whatever consequences may come, Sukuna’s voice cut through the tense air before you could retreat.

“Don’t.”

In that moment, you found yourself questioning your instincts.

Why did you not cower in fear? Why did your body not tremble in the presence of a man who had slaughtered the lives of his enemies without hesitation? And most perplexing of all, how could you maintain unwavering eye contact with a figure of such formidable power?

“Remove your robe.” His grip remained firm around your throat, his thumb delicately tracing your pulse. “And do not stray your gaze elsewhere.”

“Yes, my Lord.” Your fingers loosened the fabric’s bindings, allowing it to cascade down your frame. The robe slipped from your shoulders, revealing the soft curvature of your form beneath. As it pooled around your lap, your breasts stood exposed to his scrutiny.

A shiver danced across your skin as his eyes traced the contours of your body, a faint smirk teasing his lips.

He brushed back strands of your hair, his touch trailing down your vertebrate. His eyes narrowed into thin slits, brows knitted together in contemplation, fingers repeatedly tracing the ridges of your scars.

“Turn around.”

The dreaded discovery that sent ripples of revulsion through the concubines had finally come to pass. Your scars lay exposed before the gaze of a powerful lord. Not only would he slit your throat, but also those of the maids who had tended to your needs, and perhaps even Uruame, who had brokered your purchase from the bastards responsible for your imperfections.

“Never before have I been compelled to repeat myself for a concubine.” His voice carried a lethal edge as he increased his grip around your throat. “Turn the fuck around.”

Your compliance came in slow, measured movements as you turned away, presenting your back to him in a gesture of submission. His hands gathered the strands of your hair, lifting them aside to reveal the raw truth etched into your skin. His fingers traced the jagged remnants of whip lashes, the seared imprints of cigars, and the cruel reminders of knife wounds inflicted by a foster father turned tormentor.

Silent tears traced a path down your cheeks, as you sat in a state of numbness, your gaze fixed upon the closed door of Sukuna’s chamber.

A tender sensation, soft and moist, grazed your back, prompting a reflexive twitch in your left shoulder.

Turning slightly, you beheld Sukuna pressing his lips against the scar that marred your shoulder blades.

“My Lord—”

“I did not ask you to speak,” he murmured over your skin, sending a tremor through your frame. “Rise onto your knees.”

Obeying his command, you ascended onto your knees, feeling the weight of his hands settle upon your waist. His lips trailed a path of reverence, bestowing kisses upon each mark that scarred your skin, from your marrow to your nape.

Your breath caught in a delicate dance of exhales, a whispered symphony escaping your parted lips. The wet caress of his tongue sent ripples of sensation coursing through your being.

His arm circled your waist, drawing you into the sanctuary of his embrace. A fleeting kiss graced the nape of your neck, followed by the suction of his lips upon the tender side of your neck. His soft hands possessively held the curve of your breasts, cradling their weight.

Your head reclined against his strong shoulder.

With his gaze fixed upon you, his lips glistened with a hint of moisture, while his crimson eyes locked onto your own human-like ones. You dared not divert your gaze as he previously ordered. His fingers pinched and pulled at your nipples, sending lightning strikes through your frame.

Unlike the non-consensual encounter of the past, there was no hint of agony; only a tantalising blend of pleasure that left you breathless, without a protest or helpless whimper. Instead, a sigh of pure rapture escaped your lips, encompassing your body in an embrace.

Sukuna’s gaze narrowed, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as if he had stumbled upon a long-sought treasure.

His fingertips skated down your torso, gliding toward your centre. You captured your bottom lip between your teeth. Holding his gaze became a daunting challenge as he skillfully teased your sensitive nub, causing your breath to quicken and your chest to rise and fall with each exhilarating sensation.

Sukuna slid his middle finger into you. “You’re incredibly tight, Sad Eyes,” he murmured, the endearment he had bestowed upon you almost provoking a smile. His lips grazed your ear as he continued. “Perhaps I should stretch you out”—he pushed in his ring finger, forcing a sharp gasp to tear from your throat and an involuntary arch of your body against his chest—“so that your cunt is able to welcome my cock.”

You stifled the knot rising in your throat as Sukuna plunged his fingers into you. Such profound bliss seemed inconceivable with mere digits alone.

“My Lord.” Your breath caught as he increased his tempo. “My—” Each thrust intensified the knot in your stomach, threatening to unravel you entirely. You teetered on the brink, dangerously close to staining his fingers with your release. A sharp gasp choked out of you as he struck a wondrous chord deep within. “Please, my Lord. I beg of you—I will soil your hand if you persist—” But your plea dissolved into a cry of ecstasy before you could utter another word.

Sukuna’s laughter danced teasingly in the hollow of your ear, leaving you utterly spellbound.

You were overheated, overstimulated, overridden by the explosive undoing of his fingers. Breathless and consumed by lust, your world spun as he seized your jaw and crushed his lips to yours.

In that electrifying moment, his tongue invaded your mouth, initially startling you, yet you surrendered to the rhythm.

Sukuna leaned back slightly after planting a tender peck on your lips. Exhaling softly, he threaded his fingers through your hair, his touch sending shivers down your spine. As his lips met yours once more, gentler this time, your hand ventured to trace the contours of his adorned chest.

“You are quite the vixen.” A playful glint danced in his eyes. “How valiant of you to seduce a lord into bestowing kisses upon his concubine.” A broad smile graced his lips, leaving you uncertain whether his words were playful jest or genuine admiration.

“Do you not bestow your kisses upon all your concubines, my Lord?”

“I do not pleasure their cunts, either.”

His speech carried the brashness of a tempest, a departure from the expected decorum one associated with royalty. Sukuna Ryomen defied conventions. It was a trait uncommon among lords, yet one that intrigued you deeply. His demeanour, both in battle and in the intimate confines of the bedchamber, lacked the softening. But you found yourself drawn to his unfiltered honesty, appreciating the absence of cryptic speech.

As you sat before him, considering your next words carefully, a surge of courage emboldened you to reveal your truth.

“My Lord,” you began, your voice quivering with uncertainty, “I . . . I am not pure.”

“Given the sounds you were drawing out,” he quipped with a chuckle, “I wouldn’t have surmised otherwise.” He assisted you in rising from where you rested against his chest, positioning you before him. Observing your solemn expression, he arched an eyebrow in curiosity. “Was your satisfaction not fulfilled?”

“Indeed, my Lord, it surpassed any expectation,” you confessed, worrying your lip as he sighed impatiently. “But I must disclose . . . I am not chaste.”

Sukuna’s response was subdued, save for the faint twitch in his jaw. He averted his gaze from yours momentarily, reaching for the decanter on his bedside table and pouring himself a measure of spirits.

“Speak,” he instructed, his tone clipped.

“It occurred before I reached maturity,” you murmured softly, your arms wrapped protectively around yourself. “My foster father—” Your words faltered as Sukuna raised a hand, a silent acknowledgment of his comprehension of your unspoken anguish.

“I need not hear more.” He swiftly consumed the crimson liquid in a single gulp. “You are dismissed for the night.”

“But my Lord’s desires remain unmet—”

“Leave,” he commanded, his tone final and unwavering.

With a gulp, you hastily gathered your robe around your form, delicately extricating yourself from his expansive bed.

Just as you thought to retreat, a firm hand seized your wrist, drawing you back into Sukuna’s embrace. His lips melded with yours in an intoxicating kiss, causing both your gazes to flutter open when he pulled away. A faint smirk played upon his lips as he adjusted the robe over your shoulder.

“Next time,” he murmured, plucking a flower from the adornments in your hair and placing it upon his bedside, “you shall grace my chambers without such distracting embellishments upon yourself.”

“As you wish, my Lord,” you replied with a respectful bow of your head, awaiting his dismissal until he gestured for you to depart with a casual wave of his hand.

In the shared chambers, your fellow concubines swirled around your bed, eager to hear of your inaugural encounter with Lord Sukuna.

Each girl shared their own vivid tales, painting scenes of ecstasy under the cloak of darkness, where the king’s touch invoked sensations akin to celestial bodies colliding, or where unfamiliar pleasures erased the boundaries of their throat—whatever that latter entailed.

Though a twinge of jealousy flickered within you, it was swiftly overshadowed by a swell of pride. The concubines pleasured Sukuna in darkness, the same darkness you had willingly entered, before his touch had set ablaze a world of gold for you.

They were merely beautiful means of physical gratification for their lord, devoid of the intimacy you shared—his fingers delving deep into your core. And never had any of them spoken of kisses exchanged. Sukuna had spoken true when you questioned if others received similar treatment.

But why you?

Why, after a mere span of ten hours within the palace walls, did you find yourself, dare you entertain the notion, as his favoured? What magic did you possess that drew him to you, and how had you managed to seduce his lips, his fingers, to meet yours in such an intimate embrace?

“Did he spend himself inside you?” one of the girls whispered, prodding your knee to rouse you from your silence.

“No.”

“Aye, he never does,” remarked a golden-haired girl with a resigned sigh. “He sees to it that we consume some berries afterward, claiming they prevent conception. Strange, isn’t it? Especially if he’s so eager for an heir.”

Another girl hushed her, leaning in with a conspiratorial tone. “Did he take you from behind? That’s his favoured position, you know. He’s had us all that way.”

You stumbled over your words, unsure how to respond.

“And did you savour his taste?” came the next question. “It’s quite rich in sodium—”

“Girls!” A booming voice echoed from the doorway of the bedroom, startling you and the other concubines into immediate attention. You caught sight of the elderly attendant who oversaw your care, hands planted firmly on her hips as she observed the chaotic scene before her.

With a disapproving huff, she pivoted sharply on her heel and departed, leaving a lingering sense of reprimand in her wake.

As the frenzied chatter about Sukuna’s body attributes gradually dissolved into the quietude of sleep, morning arrived with its routine of communal showerings.

Throughout the shared bath, you silently scrubbed away the remnants of the night, indulging your fellow concubines about your previous life in town.

Upon drying off and exiting the bathing chamber, you were met with an unexpected sight: a gathering of the girls clustered around your bed.

Navigating through the throng, you reached your space to discover a resplendent scarlet silk robe embroidered with intricate black floral patterns.

Gingerly lifting the note placed atop the fabric, you read Sukuna’s precise handwriting. Curious glances from the other concubines peered over your shoulders in anticipation.

No distracting embellishments, Sad Eyes.

“What does that mean?” a curious whisper floated through the air, followed by murmurs of intrigue from the other girls. “Why does he call you ‘sad eyes’?”

You clutched the letter to your chest, suppressing a grin as you ignored the questions, the mockery, and the jostling of bodies around you. Your attention was fixated on the magnificent robe gifted to you by His Lordship.

For the remainder of the evening, you slept without any interruptions, seeking to compensate for the countless nights spent battling insomnia within the confines of your foster home.

You observed with a keen eye that none of the other girls were ushered to Sukuna’s chambers; their time seemed to veer toward strolls in the back garden or spent in the dormitory, indulging in wine-fueled scandals about the palace staff, as was their custom.

As the clock struck eight in the evening, a troupe of maids entered the chamber bearing dinner trays. A wave of anticipation swept through the room as the other girls eagerly accepted their meals and accompanying pitchers of water. Your own stomach rumbled in hunger, awaiting your own turn.

But that moment never arrived.

Instead, the maid bypassed your bed entirely, moving on to the next. A surge of apprehension rippled through you as a handmaiden approached, guiding you away from the mattress and toward the vanity.

“What about my dinner?” you asked as the attendants groomed your hair.

“His Lordship has extended an invitation for you to dine with him tonight,” came the reply.

The room fell into a sudden hush.

Dine with him?

The notion sent a flurry of thoughts racing through your mind.

Before you could process further, you found yourself pulled upright, your garments removed to be replaced by the scarlet robe.

Envy flickered in the eyes of the other concubines as they observed, their resentment palpable as they stabbed at their food with exaggerated aggression. It wasn’t your doing that Sukuna had taken an unexpected interest in you.

With no adornments save for a dab of crushed cherry paste upon your lips, you were escorted to Sukuna’s chambers.

Once more, the imposing doors swung open, and you found yourself gently ushered into the chamber. As they sealed shut behind you, the room was flooded with light. Sukuna’s figure stared out at the moonlit gardens outside, clad in a billowing white silk robe.

“My Lord,” you greeted respectfully, inclining your head in deference.

“Draw near.”

Complying with his directive, you approached and stood at his side. His presence loomed over you, his stature commanding and formidable, capable of engulfing you entirely with a single embrace. Not that such thoughts dared to linger in your mind.

“Why is your face flushed?” he asked, his gaze penetrating.

You blinked, attempting to dismiss the telltale warmth creeping up your cheeks. “It’s nothing, my Lo—”

Before you could finish, Sukuna turned your chin towards him, his palm coming to rest against your forehead. A nervous swallow traced its way down your throat at his touch, his eyes trailing down your form, a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as they settled upon you in your robe.

“Thank you for your gracious gift,” you murmured, feeling the warmth rise to your cheeks.

His fingers trailed through your hair, a mischievous glimmer dancing in his eyes. “I anticipate nothing less than thoroughly enjoying the privilege of removing it off of you.”

You blushed deeper at his statement.

“Come now. I’ve brought a surprise for you.” He took your hand in his with a tug, guiding you towards a doorway. With a simple flick of his fingers, the door parted, revealing a dimly lit hallway beyond.

Your gaze widened in astonishment. “How did you do that, my Lord?”

“Do what?”

“You opened the door without laying a hand on it.”

Sukuna’s striking blood-coloured eyes cut to you. “There is much about me that will be unveiled in due course, my love. What you perceive is but a guise for my true nature.” His smile, oddly childlike, sent a chill down your spine.

Was he some sort of sorcerer? You’d only heard whispers of human anomalies lurking beneath the earth’s surface or sealed within vessels, but historical accounts weren't exactly your cup of tea.

“I ventured into town today,” he said.

“Oh.” You swallowed hard, recovering from his previous statement. “I hope it was a fruitful trip.”

“Indeed, quite fruitful.”

In the soft glow of the distant hallway, Sukuna’s face came into view, casting a spell of trepidation upon your heart. His features were drawn into a mask of stoicism, his eyes devoid of warmth, and his lips pressed into a firm line, jaw rigid with tension.

Parting the curtains, Sukuna drew you near, his arm sweeping out to reveal a horrifying sight: your foster father, bound to a chair with chains, bearing the cruel marks of torture.

His face marred by countless wounds, an eye cruelly absent, and teeth scattered at his feet. His dignity stripped away, his vulnerability laid bare in his nakedness, and his manhood amputated.

The sickening lurch in your stomach threatened to betray your composure. “F-Forgive my intrusion, my Lord, but is he . . . is he dead?”

Sukuna’s response was a gilded dagger from within his robe, its handle decorated with a jewel reminiscent of your own captivating eyes. Nestled within the hilt was the very flower he had plucked from your hair. Upon the blade, your name was inscribed.

“Do as you wish, my beloved,” he whispered, his voice stained with dark fascination, offering you the instrument of your foster father’s fate with a chilling sense of detachment.

You couldn’t possibly bring yourself to commit such a heinous act.

Despite the unspeakable cruelties inflicted upon you by the bastard, the idea of taking another’s life filled you with a trembling dread.

Yet, the itch to end the torment, to rid the world of such a vile presence, simmered just beneath the surface as you stood before him, his life slipping away.

A hand trailed down the back of your head, guiding your trembling fingers to grasp the dagger tightly.

Looking up, you met Sukuna’s gaze, his expression hollow, his features obscured by shadows. This was the face of the Devil that cursed his enemies on their knees and had them willingly submit to death.

With a push from behind, you stumbled forward, drawing closer to your step-father’s prone form.

Glancing back at Sukuna, you were met with an incongruously bright smile. Quite a twisted paradox, His Lordship.

Your step-father sat unconscious, the stench of his bodily fluids assaulting your senses. His wounds oozed with a sickening mixture of blood and pus, his laboured breaths the only indication of life remaining within him. The scene was painfully familiar, a mirror image of the torment you had endured countless times before.

But now, someone had intervened, offering you a chance at liberation, a chance to end the cycle of abuse once and for all.

You glanced back again.

Until Sukuna.

Your gaze reluctantly returned to the true embodiment of cruelty before you. With a steady hand, you raised your arm, wielding the dagger with purpose.

It found its mark in your foster-father’s chest, a chilling silence punctuated only by the sound of steel meeting flesh. Ignoring the strangled cry that erupted from him, you withdrew the blade, then drove it back into his heart.

Out.

In.

Out.

In.

His lifeblood painted your face and stained your pristine garments, mingling with the fabric in a macabre dance of crimson. To the untrained eye, it could easily be mistaken for a mere splash of vibrant colour upon your robe.

No one would dare suspect the truth.

No one would dare come near if they knew of your sin.

No one, except Sukuna.

Once the monster over your bed was consigned to the depths of hell, his guts spilling onto the floor around your bare feet, you allowed yourself a moment of grim satisfaction.

With a contemptuous snarl, you spat upon him, a visceral response to the years of degradation he had inflicted upon you for every misstep.

A comforting warmth touched your back.

Startled by the sudden contact, you tensed before easing at the sight of Sukuna’s faint smile.

As he reached to caress your cheek, you instinctively recoiled, lowering your gaze in deference.

“Forgive me, my Lord,” you murmured, “but I cannot permit you to spoil your hands with the blood of this man.”

Sukuna’s shoes entered your line of sight as he tilted your chin upward, his moon-white sleeve wiping away the traces of blood from your mouth and its vicinity. “You appear rather exquisite painted in blood, Sad Eyes. Perhaps I ought to designate you as my prized assassin instead of a mere concubine.”

“I beg your pardon, my Lord, but I cannot partake in killing . . . again.”

“You need not worry,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear as he drew near. “I will defend you from any who cast their gaze upon you, let alone lay a hand upon your delicate form. Those who dare cross that line will face my wrath, their very existence extinguished before your eyes. Not a single tear shall stain your cheeks.” His lips brushed against yours. “From this moment forward, fear shall not reside within you. By my side, you shall command fear itself, my love.”

That night, Sukuna bathed you in the sanctuary of his chambers, washing away the traces of blood from your skin as you gazed at him with a sense of wonder. It wasn’t the superficial admiration the other concubines whispered about—it was a profound affection blossoming within you, nurtured by power and protection.

He draped you in the luxurious folds of one of his silk robes, summoning servants to prepare dinner. Seated upon his lap, he fed you spoonfuls of rice and chicken, even as your stomach protested its fullness. Soft kisses peppered your neck like a sweet dessert, culminating in one upon your lips before he reluctantly released you to retire to your dormitory.

In the ensuing weeks, Sukuna would consistently send a crafted robe ahead of each meeting—in the serene seclusion of his chambers, where the flickering candlelight cast shadows upon the walls as you dined together.

Over the course of these intimate dinners, he eagerly absorbed your musings, whether they revolved around the narratives of books discovered within the palace library or your adeptness with herbs and plants, nurtured by your profound knowledge.

On occasion, as the first light of dawn painted the sky with hues of pink and gold, Sukuna would summon you for a stroll in the haven of the back garden. Woven between the fragrant blooms, you’d dance about with childlike enthusiasm, identifying various flowers and tracing their lineage.

Ever the attentive listener, Sukuna trailed behind you, his gaze fixed upon your animated figure. He would only speak when you fell silent, demanding you to continue sharing the familial ties between apples, plums, and the roses they stemmed from.

Within the crevice of your soul, the once withered garden of affection had flourished into a lush wilderness, blossoming with untamed wildflowers and clouds that spelled out his name.

Sukuna inhabited your every waking thought, his intoxicating mouth that worshipped your body left you giggling in delight behind your hands.

Yet, each encounter with a fellow concubine, flushed and eager with tales of their rendezvous with him, felt like thorns piercing your tender heart. Jealousy, like ivy creeping upon stone, entwined itself around your every plagued thought. Your gaze often strayed to the bedside drawer where the dagger lay dormant. The mere mention of his physique by the other women tormented your soul relentlessly.

Why hadn’t Sukuna taken you as he had with every other concubine? You had grown accustomed to his presence, even eager to reciprocate the pleasure he gifted you every evening. You had offered yourself willingly, aching for the intimacy that would bind you even closer to him. But he had not claimed you in the same manner, not entered you fully, not seeded his legacy within you.

Did he question your worthiness? Did he see you merely as a transient pleasure? Were you destined to remain just a concubine, forever denied the honour of carrying his child?

“Why do you remain silent?” Sukuna asked, turning the pages of the book you had suggested to him; he was already half-way through.

You were seated snugly between his legs upon the bed, your back rested against his chest, fingers idly toying with the strands of your hair. “I find myself devoid of words this evening.”

“Hmm.” Sukuna took a leisurely sip of his drink before placing it aside. “Surely you can conjure something. You know well enough that I cannot endure your silence.”

With an exasperated sigh, you rolled your eyes. “Well, I apologise for failing to provide you with amusement, my Lord.”

Sukuna snapped the book shut.

You instinctively pressed your lips together, silently chiding yourself for the unintended sharpness in your voice.

With a heavy sigh, you resigned yourself to maintaining your composure, forcing yourself to take slow, steady breaths. Deep down, you believed that he wouldn’t inflict harm upon you or cast you out of his chambers. But the nagging thought chewed at you.

This was Sukuna Ryomen, and you . . . well, you were merely a shadow in comparison.

“If you crave my touch,” he breathed softly into your ear, “all you need to do is utter the request.”

With a determined resolve, you turned to face him, settling yourself upon his lap. Sukuna regarded you with a quirked eyebrow, a quiet acknowledgment of your unconventional audacity.

“I do crave your touch, my Lord,” you confessed, your voice a hushed plea, “but not only with your hands or lips. I long to feel you in a different manner.” Your gaze drifted down to his pelvis, the unspoken appetite evident in your eyes. “I crave that.”

Sukuna exhaled heavily, his gaze piercing as he addressed you. “So, you’ve been withholding your words simply because I haven’t fed you my cock?"

Heat rose to your cheeks at his blunt proclamation, though you had grown accustomed to his coarse mannerisms over time.

“Yes, my . . . Lord.” Your voice carried a mixture of embarrassment. “I’ve endured three long months of anticipation, patiently waiting to share in the pleasures enjoyed by your other consorts. Yet, with the arrival of autumn, I find myself still untouched by the experiences they so openly boast about.”

His lips curled into a smirk. “Are you asking me to bed you merely for the purpose of becoming a notch in your bragging rights?”

“Never, my Lord!” you protested vehemently, a hint of hurt flickering in your eyes. “I would never demean you with such vulgar talk in public. I’ve spun tales to the others, concealing the truth of our encounters. They remain oblivious to the pleasures you’ve granted me.” Your fingers traced the intricate markings on his chiselled abdominal muscles. “If my spoiled state displeases you, if I am deemed unworthy of your touch, pray, inform me now. Regardless, my sole wish is to fulfil His Lordship’s needs.”

Sukuna disentangled your hands from his chest, a gesture that caused a fissure to form within your heart, forcing your body to instinctively withdraw from his touch.

Just as you began to pull away, he swiftly encircled his arm around your waist, tugging you back onto his lap with a firm grip. Before you could utter a single word, his lips descended upon yours, silencing any protest with a passionate kiss.

With a purposeful touch, he skillfully divested you of your robe, revealing the curves of your form beneath. His hands, warm and adept, began to massage your supple breasts, kindling soft gasps from your lips. His own trailed a wet path downward, leaving a bridge of feverish kisses along the expanse of your throat, lingering over the rapid pulse beneath your skin.

As his lips found purchase on the tender flesh of your neck, his actions became more urgent, his touch more demanding. A pinch at your pebbled nipples sent a shiver of sensation coursing through you, followed by the heat of an open-mouthed kiss.

Your gaze drifted downwards, enchanted by the sight of his tongue encircling the sensitive spots, suckling on the swollen buds like a babe. Already, heat was building within the depths of your being, igniting a flame that spread between your legs.

Sukuna laid you back, relishing the delicate flavour of your lips as his fingers skillfully sought out your throbbing clit, stimulating it with unhurried circles.

With practised ease, he slipped two fingers inside you, quickening his rhythm without preamble. Your hand instinctively traced down to his chest, undoing the fastenings of his robe.

“Take it,” he whispered against your mouth, his breath mingling with yours. “Satisfy your lord, my love.”

Your fingers curled around his pulsating cock, the very object of desire that the other girls had passionately recounted. The knowledge of their previous intimacies with him only stoked the flames of envy within you, spurring you to intensify your ministrations.

With a surge of determination, you quickened the pace of your caresses, applying pressure with your thumb upon his sensitive tip while fondling his sacs.

Sukuna’s grin widened against your lips as he reciprocated with equal zeal, slipping a third finger into your slick heat until he was fully engulfed by your swollen core.

Together, you sailed upon the waves of raw carnal desire, locked in a lecherous race to reach your climax, each vying to be the first to cross the finish line—

Sukuna’s low, guttural moans resonated throughout the chamber.

You had achieved victory.

His essence spilled forth into your waiting hands, his cock convulsing with the intensity of his release. Moments later, you succumbed to your own climax, a soft cry escaping your lips.

With care, Sukuna withdrew his hand from your centre, and you instinctively examined your palm, noting the striking resemblance of his essence to your own.

You tentatively brought your fingers to your lips, savouring the taste of him.

“I did not instruct you to do that,” he growled, his gaze blazing as you tasted him. “But I suppose I’ll permit it.”

“It is salty,” you murmured, almost absentmindedly.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, are you women incapable of discussing anything besides my cock?” he exclaimed, frustration evident in his tone.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension dissipating as he cleaned his fingers with his tongue before tenderly cradling the back of your head, drawing you to sit upon his lap. Your laughter softened into chuckles, a smile playing upon your lips.

“Did I please you, my Lo—”

“Sukuna,” he interrupted firmly. “Only you may address me by my given name.”

“My L—”

“I command it.” His tone left no room for argument.

You affirmed your agreement with a nod.

He was Sukuna.

Your Sukuna.

“Very well, Sukuna.” You felt a subtle shift in the air between you. His chuckle rumbled softly. “Shall I turn around for you?”

“And why do you deem such an unnecessary act necessary?”

“Because—” You suppressed the urge to divulge the whispers of the other concubines regarding his favoured position. “Never mind. How would you prefer me to present myself to you?”

“As you are,” Sukuna answered, his grip tightening around himself. “How you managed to have me spend by your hand in under five minutes is a marvel beyond my comprehension.”

Internally, you gave yourself a congratulatory pat on the back.

“Now, my love,” he said, inclining his chin towards his erection, “will you do my cock the honour of sitting on it?”

Licking the grin of your lips, you nodded, rising to your knees. With nimble fingers, you positioned his hardened length at your entrance, gradually lowering yourself onto him.

A sharp intake of breath escaped Sukuna’s lips, his hands instinctively grasping your hips. You bit down on the inside of your cheek, enduring the initial sting of penetration. Perhaps every touch of his fingers had been a meticulous groundwork for this pinnacle moment.

As you settled into your seat upon him, you granted yourself a minute to acclimate to the sheer magnitude of him stretching and filling your tight, supple walls.

Sukuna tilted his head back, impatience evident in his eyes. “Will you begin moving at a pace befitting this century, Sad Eyes?”

“Just a moment,” you retorted, your tone tinged with irritation.

“Unfortunately, the sight of your leaking cunt is testing my patience,” he remarked, his gaze lingering provocatively on your flushed form.

Collecting yourself, you affirmed your resolve with a nod before subtly adjusting your position, and swaying your hips forward. His strong hands guided you, aiding your movements as you sought a rhythm. “Gods, you’re—you’re quite large. It’s rather discomforting.”

“Ah, where has the enthusiasm to please your lord vanished, my love?” His laughter echoes through the chamber as he leaned back, amused by your scowl. “I must confess, your defiance is perhaps your most alluring trait. It has crossed my mind more than once during moments of handling myself in the bath.”

Your brow furrowed in dismay.

It was evident that the other concubines possessed far greater expertise in pleasuring him than you ever could. All you could manage was to feign enthusiasm, your movements faltering and disjointed, as you struggled to produce even a fraction of the satisfaction they effortlessly blessed him with. His laughter, which wasn’t helping your cause, bore an uncanny resemblance to the mocking tones of the girls who had taunted you in the past.

You no longer wished to endure this charade.

You halted in your tracks, unable to muster the courage to meet his gaze, your eyes fixated instead on his throat. “It appears . . . that I may not be adequately versed in fulfilling your needs. I shall endeavour to educate myself further before making another attempt. For now, I request permission to retire for the evening, my Lord.”

Sukuna’s grip tightened as he seized your jaw, compelling you to meet his gaze. “You dare to defy my command to address me by my given name?” His smile remained wicked as he drew your face closer to his own. “Remember, my love, there is a boundary to which I tolerate your rebellion. Do not allow my affections to cloud your judgement. I remain your Lord, above all else. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you managed to gasp out.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Sukuna,” you replied, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

With a swift motion, he released your sore jaw, and before you could even consider easing the ache, his lips crashed against yours.

In that moment, control slipped from your grasp entirely. His hands gripped the flesh of your buttocks possessively, guiding your movements as he claimed you with a primal savageness that left you shaking in his embrace.

“Does it pain you, my beloved?” Sukuna growled, his fingers curling around your nape possessively. “Do you feel the strain of my cock as I breach your tender walls?”

You whimpered softly, your head nodding against the curve of his neck.

“Fear not, my darling. I will diligently train this cunt of yours to accommodate every inch of me, dusk, dawn, and twilight. Your throat, too, shall be honed to fulfil my every whim, wherever and whenever I demand.” With a swift motion, he tugged your hair, forcing you to meet his glare. “And should you dare to entertain thoughts of defiance with any other man beyond the confines of my chamber, rest assured, there will be consequences.”

“Sukuna,” was all you gasped, eyes rolling back as his tip probed the depths of your womb. His tongue traced the delicate curve of your throat before shoving into your mouth, drawing out your own to suckle on. In the heat of the moment, your hands roamed aimlessly, torn between grasping at his waist, clutching his shoulders, or caressing his cheeks.

“Oh, how I love the sight of your breasts greeting me in my face.” Sukuna tightened his hold on each of them with a deadly grasp, savouring the melodious cry that escaped your lips. He lowered his head and teethed each nipple, drawing it out and relishing in the masochism of your sharp nails clawing down his back. “Deeper, my darling. You alone hold the privilege of marking my flesh. Let my scars mirror yours.”

With caution, you shifted your hands to rest upon his firm pectoral muscles before you could accidentally claw out his spinal cord.

Sukuna’s touch drifted from your bruised breasts to cradle your face, guiding your gaze to meet his crimson one.

Encouraged by his comforting presence, you arched your hips forward with newfound confidence. His fingers swept through your hair, pushing it away as he offered reassuring nods.

Now, the reins rested firmly within your grasp.

“Fuck . . .” Leaning back against the headboard, he released soft sighs. Warm breaths escaped his parted lips as you continued increasing your ministrations. Your gaze momentarily flickered to your favourite book resting on his bedside table before returning to his face.

Suddenly seized by an impulse, you leaned forward to plant a tender kiss upon his lips, trailing upward to gently brush against his cheekbones, tracing the intricate markings lining his skin.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Someone must play the role of the tender one between us, Sukuna,” you answered, mirroring the attention he had given your scars during your initial encounter. With each kiss, you felt his eyes tracing your movements, following the path of your lips as they journeyed across his face, landing upon his nose or the pulse of his neck.

“My beloved,” Sukuna’s voice caressed your ears, drawing your focus entirely to him, “listen closely to my words.”

You halted your movements, a curious expression dancing in your eyes. “What troubles you?”

With a deliberate motion, he guided your hips forward, his gaze unwavering. “Throughout the night, I will fill your womb ceaselessly, and in mere weeks, you shall carry my legacy within you.” Your heart leaped into your throat, fluttering with an overwhelming rush of emotion. “Peril will shadow your every step. Those who oppose us will stop at nothing to eliminate your life and the life of our child. Do you comprehend the gravity of our situation?”

You blinked back the tears, resigning yourself to the inevitable.

“But I vow upon my honour, such an atrocity shall never come to pass. I will sever entire bloodlines if even a single strand of your precious hair were harmed.” His movements quickened as he thrusted into you.

Your grip tightened on his shoulders again, gasping for breath between erratic pants.

“At dawn’s light, all concubines shall be reassigned to palace duties. You need only point out those who have dared to trouble you, though their transgressions are already known to me.” His motions became more intense as he pressed you onto your back, pinning your arms above your head. “And when the sun graces the horizon, you, my beloved, shall be proclaimed as my queen.”

Your voice wailed through the chamber as you cried out his name, drowning in the waves of scorching pleasure never before experienced.

Instead of seeing celestial bodies colliding, your gaze met the deep crimson of his irises, those same eyes that had captivated you on that very first night.

“Sukuna . . . ”

With a smile mirroring his own, you tilted your head upward, silently beckoning him to seal the moment with a kiss. As he obliged, his cock pulsed within you, filling you with his warmth until every fibre of your being was tethered with his.

But he didn’t withdraw. Just as he had promised, he intended to keep you close throughout the night, to claim you as his own.

And in that moment, as you laid with him, you welcomed the dawn of a new chapter standing beside him, prepared to reign as Sukuna Ryomen’s queen.

#sukuna ryoumen x reader #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #sukuna imagine #sukuna x female reader #sukuna smut #jujutsu kaisen x female reader #sukuna x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #jjk x female reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x y/n #zaraswriting #sukuna x concubine

[altruisticalastor]

↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴

☒ Summary: The Radio Demon proves to be quite a doting husband as he and his doe expierence many firsts together. Exploring his softer sides, may bring out a more posessive side of Alastor in the process.

☒ Warnings: fem!reader, she/her pronouns used, doe!reader, the reader is shorter than al, implied size difference, soft!alastor, posessive!alastor, lots of tooth rotting fluff, sexual themes but i wouldn't consider this smut, first times, alastor in a rut, knotting, breeding, pregnacy, many domestic moments between reader and alastor

☒ Word Count: 2,337

Alastor was drawn to you the moment you crossed paths. The spotted ears planted atop your head, heart-shaped antlers, and a plush tail to match were striking. The Radio Demon hadn't ever seen a fellow deer hybrid in hell until you. But Alastor just knew that he had to have you all to himself. 

Since your first meeting, the two of you were inseparable. It didn't take long until you wed, and anyone who dared to try and cozy up to The Radio Demon's darling doe joined his next broadcast. Alastor was insanely possessive of you. He always had you tucked underneath his arm, crimson eyes following your every move. The only time they weren't on you, was when The Radio Demon was busy... taking care of business.

You were timid and pure. Alastor had no clue how you even ended up in hell. Surely, the gods were mistaken by not taking you. But alas, that softness you carried only made The Radio Demon's obsession for you all the more extreme. You were his weak spot, his darling wife. The love of his afterlife. 

You adored waking up next to Alastor each morning. He didn't rest often but snuggled into you each night to appease you. Which just made your heart flutter with delight. The only time you awoke to an empty bed, was when your husband slipped away to make breakfast for you. 

For the most part, you would sleepily wobble into the kitchen. Wrapping your arms around Alastor's waist from behind while he cooked his heart out. Alastor would hum a soft tune while he finished making your breakfast. Reveling in the warmth his cute wife emitted.

The Radio Demon would often spin on his heel. Encircling his large palms around your waist. He loved lifting you, so the tips of your toes planted flat against the top of his shoes as he spun you around the kitchen. Your laughter and his singing filled the sacred space you shared. You may have been in hell, but anywhere you were with Alastor was heavenly. 

Alastor never failed to notice how flustered you got as you gazed up at him. The man was over seven feet tall, so typically, he was taller than most. However, you were adorably short in comparison. His hands blanketed yours entirely. Alastor absolutely loved to bend down before you. Treasuring how your ears tipped back coyly as he met you at eye level. You were so easy to read. You couldn't hide anything from your husband. Even if you tried. 

You came to notice that physical touch wasn't something Alastor particularly liked. Except when it came to you. Your husband was constantly all over you. Holding your hand, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you into his lap anytime he sat down. You name it. Knowing that you were the only exception made you feel special.

But even still, you never pushed the matter. If anything, you waited for Alastor to initiate the physical intimacy, which happened more frequently than one might think- considering The Radio Demon's reputation. 

Sex wasn't something you discussed much at the beginning of your relationship. Alastor briefly mentioned that he never desired such things when he was alive. But once he became a demon, a deer hybrid at that- he started experiencing ruts. He explained that he would usually tuck away from the world until his rut passed, but that was as far as the conversation went. Relief washed over you, knowing that you weren't alone in that aspect. Your periods of estrus always made you feel shameful but, most of all... unbearably needy.

Alastor prided himself on knowing that he was a man of great composure. However, when his routine rut hit after you both had tied the knot- he expected to be able to control his urges. But that proved to be impossible for The Radio Demon. At the start of his rut, he kept his distance. Avoiding all physical contact with you. Naturally, you understood and tried to support him the best you could from afar. 

But it didn't take long for Alastor's poise to completely crumble. Your scent was all over your shared home, and any glimpse of you had him throbbing in his pants. 

Before you knew it, your husband was on you. Nipping and kissing up the expanse of your throat. Grumbling and groaning against your neck, begging you to help in through his heat. Your body trembled with need as Alastor's hands roamed along your frame in a way he never had before. 

His touches were prompt, frantic, and perverse. You wouldn't dream of denying your darling husband during his time of need. Knowing that Alastor would be your first and last lover; as you would be his, sent your heart pounding against your ribcage.

As desperate as your husband was for release, his touch was undoubtedly gentle. Alastor was slow to undress you, laying you flat atop your shared bed. He placed chaste kisses on every square inch of your skin, making your ears twitch with delight. Your husband whispered sweet nothings into your skin as he worked a finger into your tight heat for the very first time. 

Alastor's deft digit stretched you out slowly. The copious amount of slick dripping down your thighs made it easy for him to add another finger. You were on cloud nine being touched by your darling husband in such a way. You could feel the need he had for you, and it only added to the pleasure. 

Your husband was a bit hesitant the first time he pushed himself inside your welcoming walls. His hands were trembling around your waist as he buried himself to the hilt inside you. You could tell he was unfamiliar with such things; it was endearing. Alastor's face loomed over yours as he beckoned into you slowly. He gazed down at you with so much adoration as he succumbed to pleasure. 

You didn't fail to notice the tears of merriment trickling down Alastor's flush cheeks as his pace quickened. Carefully, you wiped them away. Moaning in pure ecstasy as you and your husband reveled in the unforgettable moment you shared. A gasp escaped you as you felt him begin to swell from deep within you. 

From the look on Alastor's face, you could tell he was just as perplexed as you were. The base of your lover's length swelled so much, that he could hardly pull back. You were quite literally stuck together. It didn't take long for you to understand what had happened once Alastor released his seed deep inside you. 

The feeling of your husband being so close, enveloping and marking you as his, pushed you over the edge. Once Alastor's knot deflated inside you, finally allowing him to slip out of your heat, his eyes averted from yours. He was uncharacteristically quiet as he attempted to regain his composure. 

Slowly, he explained that he had no clue that he was capable of knotting until only moments ago. You couldn't help but flush as you admitted to liking it more than you probably should have. Your confession unlocked something from deep inside your husband's psyche. Safe to say that you both shared a long night of exploring one another's pleasures and eccentricities. 

Your husband began craving you sexually even when he wasn't in a rut after your first night together. Alastor seemed to have developed a fixation with breeding you, which you weren't opposed to. The thought of starting a family with your doting husband plagued your mind often. 

So it wasn't a massive surprise to you when you discovered you were pregnant only a couple months later. When you broke the news to Alastor, he was elated. Your husband lifted you in his arms, spinning you around the kitchen as you both grinned brightly. Alastor wasted no time pitching name ideas for your fawn, melting your heart entirely.

You were about seven months along when your husband informed you of his next prospect at the Hazbin Hotel. Happily, you joined your husband in his endeavor. At first, the people you met who resided at the hotel didn't believe you were Alastor's spouse. For crying out loud, he was the infamous Radio Demon. The ruthless overlord that moved up the ranks faster than ever before. 

But to you, he was simply the doting husband that took pride in loving you. Who rubbed your feet from how much they swelled during your pregnancy. The man who hummed his favorite tunes to you as you dozed off each night, caressing your ears lovingly in the process. 

It took a good while but over time you developed a good relationship with the residents. Charlie was so caring and helpful. She did tons of research on pregnancy to be able to aid you. The Princess of Hell loved rubbing your belly, feeling the little kicks, and humming happy songs to your little fawn.

Vaggie was overly protective of you. Not to Alastor's level- but certainly up there. She acted like your bodyguard at times, even in the safety of your and Alastor's room. It made you giggle, but you appreciated it nonetheless. 

Angel was a hoot. At first, he would ask you indecent questions about your and Alastor's sex life. But Husk always put him in his place at times like that. Eventually, Angel became somewhat of a brother to you. He and Fat Nuggets would sit on your bed with you late at night while Alastor worked in his radio tower. Angel would put on all the best rom-com movies, laughing and crying alongside you.

You knew Husk beforehand, having a civil relationship for the most part. But as more time passed at the hotel, he began to warm up to you. If anything, Husk feared for you. He didn't like Alastor in the slightest- and he didn't want you to get caught in The Radio Demon's crossfire. So he kept a watchful gaze on you, especially now that you were pregnant. 

A small smile etched into your features as you heard the bedroom door swing open. Alastor was home early, something that didn't happen often. You sunk lower into your bubble bath, letting a soft sigh escape you as your husband's footsteps got louder. A moment later, the bathroom door swung open. Revealing the one and only; Alastor. 

"How is my darling doe and fawn doing on this wonderful evening?" Alastor boomed, approaching the tub swiftly. Wasting no time kneeling beside the tub. You giggled as your husband slipped his gloves off, dunking his palms beneath the water to caress your plump belly. 

"Hmm, better now that you're here," You whispered. Rubbing your palms over the back of his hands. Alastor craned his neck, giving you a chaste kiss. You couldn't help but smile against your lover's lips as your little fawn kicked right at that very moment. "See! Our little one is happy too, now that daddy's here." 

Alastor gazed at you with much adoration as he felt another kick, further solidifying your words. "Well, in that case! I suppose I should strive to get home earlier from now on, hm?" Your husband remarked, slowly pulling his hands from the tub. Alastor didn't miss a beat as he grabbed a washcloth. Lathering it up with your favorite soap before dipping his hands below the water once more. 

"Miss falling asleep next to you, Al," You sighed, eyes fluttering shut as your husband washed you. Alastor was so gentle as he scrubbed you clean. Making sure to massage your sore muscles in the process. "I know, my dear, I know." He cooed. Humming a gentle tune as he slid behind you from outside the tub. Working the knots out of your tense shoulders. 

"Our little fawn will be here soon... you nervous?" You asked softly, letting out a pleasant hum as Alastor massaged your back. His lips ghosted along the shell of your ear as he whispered, "Quite the contrary, my darling! I'm over the moon with excitement. I simply cannot wait to meet our little one."

Alastor's words caused your heart to flutter against your ribcage. You were the nervous one. You just hoped your child would be happy and healthy. "Don't worry your pretty little head, my dear! Our fawn is in good hands. Don't you see how much the patrons here adore you and our unborn child?"

Your husband always knew when you were nervous. It was as if he could read your mind. The sound of the soapy water sinking down the drain caused your eyes to flutter open. Alastor now stood with a towel outstretched in his arms. He beckoned you toward him, wrapping you in his arms as you stepped out of the tub. Your tail wagged with joy as your husband dried you off. 

"You're right... thanks for reminding me, my love," You smiled, tilting your face up against your husband's chest. Alastor took the hint, craning his neck to press his lips against yours. The kiss was warm and loving. Making you feel safe in his embrace. "No need to thank me, my dear! Come now, let's get you tucked in."

You squealed as your husband scooped you in his arms. Carrying you bridal style toward your shared bed. Alastor softly placed you under the duvet, wasting no time getting you warm and cozy in one of his button-up shirts. It smelled just like him, your favorite scent. Your husband stealthily removed his overcoat and shoes before making himself comfortable beneath the sheets.

Alastor cuddled up into your backside, wrapping his slender arms around your waist. He caressed your tummy lovingly as he kissed the top of your head, pulling your back flush against his chest. "There, now my darlings are ready to rest!" Your husband quipped, allowing his droopy eyelids to flutter shut. All you could do was hum in agreement as sleep overtook you. "Night, Al... love you..." 

"I love you more, my dear."

tags; @danveration @celestial-vomit @jyoongim

comment if you're intrested in being added to the taglist^^

#hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel smut #alastor smut #alastor x you #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor imagine #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x y/n #hazbin hotel fluff #alastor fluff #alastor the radio demon

[fragileheartbeats]

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ 𝐔𝐏 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀

♡ ⭒ㅤ𓈒 上下 ㅤ𝅄ㅤ ㅤ྄

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀꒰͡ ⠀ ִ 𝐽 𝐽 𝐾 𝑀 𝑒 𝑛 𝑥 𝐹 𝑒 𝑚 𝑅 𝑒 𝑎 𝑑 𝑒 𝑟 ⠀ׂ ⠀ ͡꒱

♡ㅤ𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮ㅤ۫ㅤ𝅄ㅤೀ

— 𝘚𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘶, 𝘔𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘮𝘪, 𝘠𝘶𝘫𝘪, 𝘚𝘶𝘬𝘶𝘯𝘢, 𝘒𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘰, 𝘚𝘶𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘶, 𝘛𝘰𝘫𝘪, 𝘊𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘰, 𝘠𝘶𝘵𝘢, 𝘛𝘰𝘨𝘦 <3 (All characters are adults)

˚꒰🌼꒱‧ Hi there! Before you read this, you should know that English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

ㅤㅤ ��� ﹒𝆋 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 | 五条 悟 ─ 𓇼 . ♡𝆬

It was a typical evening, with the moon looming large in the star-studded sky, and a warm breeze gently caressing the couple's skin. As they stood in front of the fireplace, he couldn't take his eyes off her, her curvaceous body on full display in a barely-there lingerie set. He felt himself grow increasingly aroused as her hand grazed his chest, her lips leaving trails of hot kisses down his neck. Unable to resist any longer, he lifted her up and carried her to the bed, laying her down with a thud. He watched as she writhed under his touch, teasing and tantalizing him with her every move. But it wasn't long before the tables were turned, and she straddled him, her warm breath tickling his ear. 'You ready for me, Satoru?' Y/n purred, her voice sending shivers down his spine. He could only nod, his mouth too dry to form words. He was completely under her spell, eagerly waiting for her next move. Without any hesitation, she lowered herself onto his throbbing member, taking him in inch by inch. A loud groan escaped his lips as she started to move, her hips grinding against him in a tantalizing rhythm. His hands gripped her thighs, trying to hold on to the now intense pleasure coursing through his body. Her movements were slow and deliberate, each time she rose and fell, taking him to new heights of ecstasy. Their moans and breaths were the only sounds in the room, and the anticipation was building with each passing moment. He couldn't take it any longer. 'F-faster,' he stuttered, his words barely audible. With a wicked grin, she obeyed, picking up the pace and driving him wild with desire. The feverish intensity between them only grew as y/n leaned down to capture his lips in a searing kiss, their bodies moving as one. As they both reached the peak of their passion, he felt himself losing control, his body wracked with pleasure. 'I-I'm gonna... I'm gonna cum,' he stuttered, his voice hoarse. With a final thrust, they both exploded together, their cries of pleasure echoing in the room. They lay together, tangled in each other's arms, their bodies spent but their hearts overflowing with love. With a satisfied smile, he buried his face in her hair, whispering, 'I love you' over and over again. In that moment, nothing else in the world mattered except for the two of them, lost in their shared pleasure and love. And with the moon still shining bright, they fell asleep in each other's arms, ready for whatever the next day had in store for them.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔��𝐎 | 伏黒 恵 ─ 𔒌 . ♡𝆬

Megumi laid on his back, breathless as his lover, rode him with a wild abandon. His hands gripped her hips tightly, pulling her closer, as he let out a loud moan. Tears streamed down his face, a mix of pleasure and overwhelming emotions. Her body moved seamlessly on top of his, her hands tangled in his hair as she rode him harder. She leaned down to capture his lips in a heated kiss, their moans muffled against each other's mouths. His body trembled as she hit a particularly sensitive spot, causing him to let out a cry of pleasure. But it wasn't just the physical pleasure that had Megumi in tears. It was the intensity of their connection, the way their bodies moved together as if they were made for each other. He held her tightly, wanting to be as close to her as possible, not wanting this moment to end. 'Y/n,' he gasped out. 'good...so good.' Her only response was a throaty moan as she continued to ride him, her movements becoming faster and more frantic. Megumi's breathing became erratic, his body trembling with every thrust. He couldn't hold on much longer, the pleasure was too intense. With one final cry, he reached his peak, spilling over the edge with a mind-blowing orgasm. He held onto her, his body shaking as she rode him through his release. He whispered her name, his voice filled with love and adoration. 'Y/n, Y/n, Y/n,' he repeated, his voice stuttering with emotion. 'I love you, I love you so much.' Y/n slowed her movements, her body still as she leaned down to kiss him tenderly. She could feel his tears on her cheeks, and it only made her love him even more. She brushed her thumb across his cheek, wiping away his tears as she gazed into his eyes. 'I love you too,' she whispered, her voice filled with sincerity. 'You mean everything to me.' They stayed there, wrapped in each other's arms, for what felt like an eternity. They didn't need words to express their love, their bodies and actions said it all. In that moment, they were lost in each other, and nothing else mattered. Megumi's cry of pleasure had turned into a cry of love, a testament to the deep bond between him and Y/n. And as they lay there, spent and breathless, they both knew that this was just the beginning of their passionate and intense love story.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐘𝐔𝐉𝐈 𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈 | 虎杖 悠仁 ─ 𓐐𓎩 . ♡𝆬

As she climbed on top of him, straddling his hips, his whole body quivered with anticipation. She leaned down and whispered in his ear, 'Do you want me to ride you, baby?' He could only nod eagerly, his breath hitching at the thought of her taking control. She moved her hand down between their bodies, guiding his hardness into her slick heat. With a moan, she sank down onto him, her movements slow and deliberate. He gripped her hips tightly, his eyes squeezed shut as she began to move. She started off with a gentle rhythm, her hands splayed across his chest for balance. But as their passion grew, so did her pace. She threw her head back, her long hair cascading down her back as she rode him faster and harder. He couldn't hold back any longer, his body trembling as he neared his peak. 'Fuck, baby,' he groaned, his words coming out in stuttering bursts. 'You feel… so good… oh God…' She grinned down at him, her own pleasure evident in the way her jaw was tense and her eyes squeezed shut. With a final thrust, he reached his climax, his whole body shuddering beneath her. 'Wow,' he gasped as she collapsed onto his chest, both of them panting and sweating. 'That was amazing.' She chuckled, her breath tickling his skin. 'I'm glad you enjoyed it,' she said, her voice husky with satisfaction. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. 'How could I not?' he replied, a lazy smile playing on his lips. 'You ride me like a pro.' She laughed, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck. 'I love you,' she whispered, kissing his skin softly. He stroked her back, savoring the feeling of her skin against his. 'I love you too,' he murmured, his heart swelling with love and contentment.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 | 宿儺 ─ 𓇢𓆸 . ♡𝆬

'Look at you, my little slut,' he growled, his voice dripping with superiority. 'Riding me like the whore you are.' She gasped, her cheeks flushing red with embarrassment and arousal. But he didn't let up, holding her hips in a firm grip as he guided her movements. 'You think you're in control, don't you?' he sneered, thrusting up into her hard. 'But we both know who's really in charge here.' His words only made her moan louder, her body responding eagerly to his touch. He reveled in her, reveling in the way she surrendered herself completely to him. 'Tell me how much you want it,' he demanded, punctuating each word with a forceful thrust. 'Tell me how much you crave my cock.' And she did, her words coming out in a desperate, needy plea. It only fueled his desire. 'You're just a little plaything for me to use,' he hissed, gripping her hips tighter. 'A filthy little whore to satisfy my every whim.' But as their bodies moved together in perfect sync, it was her moans and cries that drove him over the edge. With one final command, he gave into his pleasure, his body shaking as he released himself inside her. Afterward, they lay together, tangled in sheets and each other's arms. 'You're mine,' he whispered possessively, his lips brushing against her ear. 'Never forget that.' And she never would, always eager to please him again and again, knowing that he was the one who truly owned her.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 | 七海 建人 ─ ☘︎ . ♡𝆬

He gazed up at her, admiring her beauty and the love that radiated from her eyes. 'This is all I've ever wanted,' he whispered, as she slowly lowered herself onto him. He closed his eyes, savoring the feeling of her warm, wet embrace. With each movement, they both moaned in pleasure. She leaned down, kissing him softly as their bodies moved in perfect synchrony. He ran his hands up her back, feeling the softness of her skin, wanting to remember this moment forever. As she rode him, he could feel the heat building up inside him. 'I love you,' he gasped, as his body trembled with pleasure. She only smiled in response, her own body beginning to shake with the intensity of her pleasure. Their moans grew louder, as her bodies moved faster and harder. He reached up to caress her face, bringing her in for a passionate kiss. With one final thrust, they both reached their climax, exploding in pure ecstasy. They lay in each other's arms, spent and content. He looked into her eyes and saw nothing but love and adoration. 'You are my everything,' he whispered, stroking her hair. She smiled and kissed him once more, sealing their love in that moment. As they laid there, tangled in each other's limbs, he couldn't help but think how lucky he was to have her in his life. She was his soulmate. And he would do anything to make her happy, for the rest of his days.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 | 夏油 傑 ─ 𓆉 . ♡𝆬

He could feel the nervousness radiating off his lover as she straddled his lap, her delicate hands gripping his shoulders for support. It was her first time, and he wanted to make it special for her. He gently caressed her cheek, leaning in to whisper sweet nothings in her ear. 'You're so beautiful,' he murmured, his lips grazing the shell of her ear, 'I'm honored to be your first.' She blushed at his words, her eyes sparkling with adoration. He pressed a soft kiss to her lips, hoping to distract her from the pain she was about to feel. As she winced, a single tear escaping her eye, he kissed it away and murmured words of comfort. 'Shh, it's okay sweetheart,' he whispered, 'I'm here, I'll take care of you.' He kissed her tongue gently, coaxing her into relaxing as she lowered herself onto him. With one hand on her waist, he used the other to rub her clit, sending waves of pleasure through her body. She moaned, her hips starting to move in sync with his fingers.  'Good girl,' he praised, 'You're doing so well, baby.' She blushed and bit her lip, her innocent shyness only making her more alluring to him. As her confidence grew, she began to slowly ride him, her hands now roaming his chest, playing with his nipples. He could feel his pleasure building. She eagerly riding him with a newfound confidence. He watched as her petite body moved against his, her moans becoming more urgent. She leaned down to whisper in his ear, her warm breath tickling his skin. 'I want to make you feel good,' she murmured. With that, she started to move faster, her hands now gripping his shoulders for support. He could feel his release approaching, and he couldn't hold back any longer. With a final thrust, he came undone, his lover following soon after. They collapsed onto the bed, both panting and sweaty. He wrapped his arms around his lover, pulling her close to him. 'You did so well, love,' he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. She smiled, snuggling into his chest. He kissed the top of her head, feeling grateful for the trust she had given him. This was a memory he would cherish forever, and he couldn't wait to make even more beautiful moments with her.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 | 伏黒甚爾 ─ 𓆤 . ♡𝆬

He watched with hungry eyes as his lover straddled him, her hands gripping his chest for stability. She slowly lowered herself onto his rock-hard cock, relishing the feeling of his throbbing member stretching her walls. She moved her hips in a slow, tantalizing rhythm, causing the man beneath her to let out a deep growl. 'You're so fucking tight,' he groaned, his hands tightening on her waist. 'Ride me, babydoll. Show me how much you need me.' She complied, increasing the speed of her movements and bouncing on him with reckless abandon. His hands roamed her body, squeezing and caressing every inch of her skin as she rode him. 'I want you to scream my name,' he whispered, his voice thick with desire. 'Louder, baby. Let the whole neighborhood know who's cock make you feel good.' His words sent her over the edge and she screamed his name, her body shuddering as waves of pleasure washed over her. His eyes rolled back in his head as he felt her walls clench around him, pushing him closer to the brink. 'Fuck, I'm gonna cum,' he said, his hands gripping her hips tightly. 'So fucking close.' With one final, powerful thrust, he spilled into her with a loud moan, his hips bucking uncontrollably as he rode out his orgasm. The two of them collapsed onto the bed, their bodies tangled together in a pool of sweat and satisfaction. He wrapped his arms around his lover, pulling her close to his chest as they both tried to catch their breath. 'You're amazing,' he whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. 'I can't get enough of you.' She smiled and nuzzled closer to him, feeling loved in his embrace.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎 | 脹相 ─ 𖤣𖥧 . ♡𝆬

The sun was setting behind the tall buildings, casting a golden glow over the city. In a small apartment, he lay on the bed, his heart racing with anticipation. He could hear the click of heels approaching and knew that she was about to enter the room. The door opened and in walked his master, clad in a black leather corset and thigh-high boots. She had a mischievous smirk on her face as she sauntered towards him, her hips swaying seductively. His arousal was evident as his master climbed onto the bed, straddling him. 'Hello, my little pet,' she purred, running her fingers through his hair. He let out a low moan, his body trembling with desire. He knew he was in for a wild ride. Her hands roamed his body, teasing and taunting him as she leaned down to whisper in his ear. 'You belong to me, and I'll make sure you remember that tonight.' His breath hitched as his master began to ride him, her movements slow and deliberate. Their bodies moved in perfect harmony, their passion building with each thrust. His hands gripped the sheets as his master whispered dirty words in his ear, sending shivers down his spine. 'You feel so good inside me,' she moaned, her pace quickening. He couldn't hold on any longer as he reached his climax, her name escaping his lips in a cry of ecstasy. She continued to ride him, drawing out his pleasure until he was completely spent. As they lay entwined in each other's arms, he whispered sweet words of love and gratitude to his lover. She smiled down at him, her eyes filled with affection. 'You are mine, my little pet,' she said, stroking his cheek tenderly.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐘𝐔𝐓𝐀 𝐎𝐊𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐒𝐔 | 乙骨 憂太 ─ ✉ . ♡𝆬

Her hands gripping his wrists, her nails digging into his skin, all while she rode him with determination, left him helpless to her embrace. 'Who do you belong to?' she whispered seductively in his ear, her lips barely grazing his skin. 'You,' he gasped. 'Say it louder,' she demanded, her pace quickening. 'I belong to you!' he cried out, his voice echoing through the room. She leaned down, her lips crashing onto his as she continued to ride him, her powerful movements driving him closer to the edge. The way she controlled him, taking him to heights of ecstasy he never thought possible, consumed him completely. 'Tell me what you want,' she panted, her eyes locking with his. 'I want you,' he groaned, his body trembling with desire. 'That's all?' she teased, her hands moving down his chest, towards his most sensitive area. 'I want you... to make me cum,' he struggled to get the words out, his body begging for release. With one final thrust, she brought him to the edge, his body convulsing as he spilt himself inside her. She continued to ride him, milking every last drop until he was completely spent. Collapsing onto the bed, he couldn't help but smile as he looked up at her, still glowing with satisfaction. 'You are mine,' she stated, her eyes filled with love and possession. 'Yes,' he replied, his voice filled with adoration, knowing he would happily submit himself to her again and again.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈 | 狗巻 棘 ─ ♬ . ♡𝆬

Her hips rolling and grinding against his. He was powerless under her, his body responding instinctively to her touch as she rode him. 'God, you feel so good,' she purred, her voice husky with desire. 'Do you like it when I ride you like this?' He could only nod, his words lost in a jumble of pleasure and desire. She had always known how to push his buttons, how to take control and leave him weak and trembling beneath her. And now, as she moved with a fluid grace, her hands gripping his hair tightly, he was completely at her mercy. 'I love you,' she whispered, her lips brushing against his ear as she leaned down towards him. 'I love making you mine, taking what I want from you.' He shivered at her words, his body responding eagerly to her touch. Every movement sent waves of electric pleasure coursing through him, building him towards a climax he knew he couldn't hold back. With each thrust, she stammered out his name, her voice growing louder and more desperate. He could feel her nails digging into his skin, marking him as hers as she rode him with an unbridled fervor. And as she pushed him closer and closer to the edge, his words came out in a jumbled stutter, his mind consumed by the overwhelming pleasure she was giving him. 'I-I'm gonna...I can't...' he gasped, his eyes rolling back in his head as he felt himself reaching the point of no return. 'Yes, let go,' she growled, her own climax near as she rode him harder and faster. 'Cum for me, my love.' And with those words, he was powerless to hold back any longer. He cried out as he came, his body trembling and shaking as she continued to ride him through his release. They collapsed onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, their breathing heavy and their bodies spent. She leaned down to kiss him softly, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest. 'You're mine,' she whispered. 'And I'll always take what I want from you.' He smiled up at her, knowing that it was true. With her, he was always hers and he wouldn't have it any other way.

MASTERLIST

@fragileheartbeats . Don't plagiarise, repost, or translate any of my works on here or any other websites.

#ㅤㅤ𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ 𝒟 eαr dıαrч 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀ #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo smut #megumi x reader #megumi smut #itadori smut #itadori x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #nanami x reader #nanami smut #suguru x reader #geto smut #geto x reader #toji fushigro x reader #toji x reader #toji smut #choso x reader #choso smut #yuta x reader #yuta smut #inumaki x reader #inumaki smut

[writing-in-glitter-pen]

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ what I know to be true ⋆｡˚ ೀ⋆｡˚ ༘

Childe wasn't a big fan of the Tsaritsa's demand for him to find a wife, until he'd come upon the perfect girl for the job. You—a lady he knew in his childhood to be a horrible nuisance and demon on Earth. Not only would this marriage fulfill his duty, but would let him settle a long-time grudge as well. Little did he know, he stood more to gain from this partnership than he thought.

Childe x fem!reader II arranged marriage, angst? to fluff, childhood enemies to lovers, romance!

Childe was never one for romance, and especially not for commitment.

He just had so much else on his plate, much bigger dreams than that of settling down in a household and abandoning his place on the battlefield.

He was always looking ahead to a future of bloodshed, of power, of someday ruling the world.

That wasn't going to happen if a distraction stood in his way.

He would sometimes muse about having kids, loving the idea of continuing his lineage and watching a bunch of mini-me's run around, but ultimately, he decided his duty to the Tsaritsa would stand in the way of him being a good father. So he'd just have to settle for being an amazing uncle to the children his siblings would eventually have, spoiling them with presents at Christmas time and teaching them how to protect themselves out in the wild.

So when he was called into the Tsaritsa's throne room and received the news that a harbinger of his status was to be married, in order to keep up with regal airs the nobles of Snezhanaya, he was, respectfully, very unhappy.

"You'll be seen at balls and lead battalions. Your role must be carried with honor. Nobody will respect an old lonely man.", she claimed, then drew out a long, thin arm to hold his chin with a bony hand—long pointed nails pressing divots into his skin. Though her touch was frigid, she looked down at him with a certain fondness in her eyes, though the sincerity of it was undistinguishable. "You need a pretty thing by your side to elevate your status. You know I only want what's best for you.", she cooed, like she was addressing a child.

He new better than to disobey her commands, and something about the smoothness of her voice assured him that this was the right choice. He only nodded, though his fists clenched at his sides in dismay.

Childe read over the listed names of eligible young ladies for him to marry with contempt; scrolling through the meaningless last names and accompanying statures, ordered from top to bottom by how highly they stood in the totem pole of nobility. Like he cared where the girl would come from.

He felt guilt for the miserable thing that would have to marry him; though he could care less about who these women were, he believed that they deserved a partner that loved them, or at least a good man that could stand to take care of them. All they would be to him is a nuisance, a label which they had done nothing to earn.

Though, when he neared the end of the list, a section devoted to common folk who had certain merits like striking beauty or some sort of fame, that he found a name he recognized.

Your name.

Oh, how he remembered you.

You were the daughter of good friends of his parents. Your families would often gather for holidays or dinner parties, sharing what little they had in the name of kinship. The gatherings were lively, full of happiness and cheer...

But you had a certain countenance that stood out to him and branded your name into a special part of his brain to be remembered for the rest of his life.

You were a little brat was what you were.

Though you were only a toddler when he met you, having only just taken your first steps while he was already halfway through being eight, he found you to be the most insufferable little human he'd ever met.

Your parents would always gab and brag about what a good little girl you were; how you never cried or screamed, how you were sweet and patient and loving—a wonderful surprise for parents preparing for the "terrible two's.".

They had to be lying, because every time Ajax would come into view you'd immediately throw a fit, wailing and swiping at his face with a kind of rage an entire army of men could not match.

He had no idea why; he never touched you, or spoke to you, all he did upon your first meeting was draw back in repulse.

You weren't a pleasure to look at; with your beady little eyes and thick eyelashes that lined them, your thin eyebrows and piercing gaze. You looked like some haunted porcelain doll. And there was a certain consciousness behind your eyes that children your age were not supposed to have.

His little siblings were much cuter.

And he did not hesitate to say that.

"Tonia was a prettier baby. What's wrong with her?", he piped up, humiliating his mother and father who immediately scolded him for his rudeness. Your mother only laughed.

"Trust me, she'll be a beauty when she grows up. I won't be surprised when you come around here in sixteen years asking to marry her."

This started a little musing session between your mothers, giggling about the possibility of their children being wed and how wonderful that would be for their friendship and their families.

Meanwhile, Ajax was dwelling on how that would absolutely never happen—if the look on your face was any indicator.

You were red as a tomato, nose scrunched in distain as your eyes pierced his. Like you'd understood him.

How was he supposed to know babies could take offense?

Whether or not your infant brain could comprehend his words, your hatred was clear, and before he could react, your soft little hand went flying towards his face and landed with a resounding THWAP!

Even though you struck him, you immediately burst into tears, bawling crocodile tears that ran down your face and dripped off of your chin.

All of the adults in the room immediately ran to your aid, hushing and petting you while scorning Ajax for "tormenting the poor girl."

Never before had he felt so cheated.

That begun his feud with a two year old.

Your detest for one another ran deep. So much so that every gathering between your families ended in you receiving plenty of sneaky pinches to your fat baby skin and him risking a bald spot with the amount of hair you'd rip out of his head.

It was a nightmare you could walk too, since you'd often seek him out just to babble in annoyance and tug at the knee of his trousers.

"See? Look at how much she likes you!", his mother would coo, but he knew better. Your grappling with his pants was your pea-brained strategy to get him to bend down and remove you so you could bop him one on the nose.

He swore you were such a strong baby. He'd rather take a hit from a club than suffer the force that your tiny fists could bring down on his head.

That's why you were the perfect girl to be his wife

If he were to marry any other woman, the guilt of leaving her alone at home for long stretches of time, depriving her of having the good husband she deserves rather than a man who could never love her, would be overwhelming.

Sure, he was a monster, but he wasn't about to let some innocent bystander be collateral damage.

But you? The evil, horrible little wench you are? You more than deserved it.

In his mind, he'd actually be doing his fellow man a favor by saving an unsuspecting bachelor from accidentally marrying a grisly thing like you.

So, although his retainers were already in the process of scheduling meetings with his potential brides, he plucked your name from the list without hesitation.

"Set the wedding date. I'll have that one."

The organizers looked between themselves warily, deciding whether or not they should challenge him on this monumental decision.

"And nothing too grand—it'll just be family.", he cooly added, leaning back in his chair to rest his feet upon his desk and crushing the list of names under his dirty boots.

In the end, the harbinger always gets what he wants, so his retainers retreated with quiet nods and quick steps.

Though Childe acted aloof towards the decision to have you as his bride, when the day of the wedding actually arrived and he found himself standing at the altar of a small church in Mosepok—his home town, his palms were sweating and eyes darting around nervously. He shifted his weight on his feet as the congregation waited for you to enter; this was supposed to be a small ceremony, but leave it to his mother and father's proud announcements to their friends and neighbors to draw a crowd. As his eyes scanned the faces of those who'd known him in his youth, he realized near all of the small port town was packed into the pews. He wracked his brain for the answer as to why these people would want to watch their old town troublemaker's union, but he supposed it would be the most interesting thing to happen in the town since his era of delinquency.

It was a miracle that the budget the Fatui gave Childe for this wedding greatly superseded the amount he'd needed for the original plan of a small gathering; it was more than enough to feed the whole town for a night, which actually brought a flicker of joy to Childe's chest.

He was pleased that he could give back to the community that handled him like a family in his childhood.

But that flicker was immediately quenched when the creaking sound of the heavy oak doors that led into the chapel reverberated through the room—revealing the silhouette cast in white of his bride.

His stomach turned with anxiety. Childe had led battalions into what could be considered suicide missions if not for their miraculous victorious outcome, and yet, somehow, the fear he felt standing in front of a girl that, though she may not be small by definition, definitely looked so standing next to him, significantly surpassed that of which he's ever felt.

His cold body shook like he stood inches from death.

Suddenly, he remembered the fury your little body had when you were only a baby, and it dawned on him that you've only gotten bigger, smarter, stronger. A little arbiter of the apocalypse couldn't have grown into the meek woman he imagined, if anything, her bloodlust grew with age.

What did he get himself into? Was he an idiot? Did he, blinded by his scheming for revenge, land himself in a lion's den?

With a light tap on the shoulder from the priest, he jolted out of his stupor and found you standing in front of him already, suddenly remembering that he was now to lift your veil.

His hands shook as he reached out, bracing himself for the hideous face he'd been forced to associate with at every friendly gathering between your parents in childhood, and now, due to his own brashness, would have to associate with every time he returned home or attended public events.

He took a deep breath and shut his eyes as he took the fabric between his white-knuckled fingers and threw the thing up and over your head. The procession hummed with awe and approval—some more boisterous men from the docks whistling, to which their wives jabbed an elbow into their ribs.

The sounds of adoration resounding from the audience perplexed Childe, drawing his interest and encouraging him to open one wary eye and peek at you.

But his cautious peek grew into an owlish gawking and dropped jaw when the woman before him shined like an angel.

This couldn't have been the girl he knew in her infancy; her once-beady eyes now twinkled like stars, her red puffy face was now sculpted and the only remnants of her discoloration resided in dusted pink pigments on her cheeks. They were so perfectly placed that they could be mistaken for a painting by an artist with a keen eye. He pried his gaze from your enrapturing eyes to ogle your lips—plushy and inviting. He'd give anything to kiss a gorgeous woman like you.

And he remembered with an unexpected delight that he would by the end of this ceremony.

Before he knew it, the soft ring of your voice settled upon his ears. Having been caught in a trance, he hadn't realized the procession already arrived at your vows.

He only tuned in after the opening sentences of your declaration had passed, your words blurred by his reverie.

"I promise to wait for you when you go and embrace you when you return; to make a warm, solace of a home for you that you can always come back to, whether there be a roof over our heads or not. I promise to follow you through this life and meet you in the next, to be by your side when you need me, no matter how far apart we may be forced to exist. I promise to love you and only you, to be true as long as your ring encloses my finger, and promise to keep it there forever. I will take your family into my arms just as you will me, care for them—as they are an extension of you, to love them just as I do you. I'll hold you ever close to my heart, speak to you with nothing but kindness, recognize your face as that of my partner in life, my one and only, and..."

Childe jumped when he felt your warm hand sneak up on his and gingerly intertwine your fingers, to which he did not resist, nor want to.

"I promise to love you as you are; no matter how much the years we spend together may change us."

To his puzzlement, Childe felt a certain wetness roll down his cheek, causing him to look up at the skylight above the both of you to check if it was raining. When another droplet ran down the other side of his face, he realized he was crying.

Childe never cried, he couldn't even remember the last time it had happened; maybe it was sometime when he was a boy, but the memory simply did not exist. These were not tears shed in misery, they were spurred by your words of devotion, words he'd never been blessed with before. He truly wondered now if you may be divine, but all he beheld of you told him you were, in fact, human, and not a vision of absolution sent from the heavens above.

You tilted your head to the side and blinked your dollish eyelashes at him, obviously waiting for something, to which he remembered that is was now his turn.

He had neglected to write vows beforehand or memorize the traditional vows spoken by couples bound by marriage as an arrangement. He had, in fact, planned on skipping the process altogether, but your profession of love caught him off guard and incentivized him to speak his own.

So, with a blank mind, he resorted to letting the few truths he knew spill from his mouth.

"I'd only known you during our childhoods, but how you've blossomed and changed has..."

He had never been one for words, so making something up on the spot in front of quite literally a hundred people was daunting. His voice seized with trepidation, but he took a breath and moved forward.

"Has...left me speechless. My mind is empty, and all I can think of now is...that I am blessed."

He swallowed a lump in his throat and continued, struck by your endearing gaze on him—it made his voice quiver as it resounded from his chest.

"I'd assumed I knew you, but it's clear to me now that I have so much more to learn."

He unconsciously squeezed your hand for comfort, and, with a gentle smile on your face, you reassuringly squeezed back; making him sigh and yearn to feel more of you—imagining that you felt like warm cotton, soft and homey, something he could bury himself in and happily stay there for eternity.

"And I want to learn it. I...want to spend my whole life in awe of you, discovering as much as I can, knowing you like I know myself."

He could not hesitate before he blurted his next statement, his voice getting carried away from him and spilling his most personal beliefs.

"And loving you as you love me."

Your cheeks turned an even brighter shade of pink, and your eyes glimmered as your perfect lips stretched into an even more enticing smile. He could hear your soft, happy sigh, a sound that not even the priest beside the two of you could catch, almost like a secret meant just for him.

Your sweetness enthralled him like nothing he'd ever experienced— slowly convincing him that you very well may be the best thing that's ever happened to him.

"I'll take care of you.", he promised, and meant it. "I'll spend the rest of my life ensuring your safety and happiness. Despite what you promised before, I will always put a roof over your head. You'll be forever warm and safe. I will fight for you, die for you, do anything you ask. You will want for nothing as long as you're mine."

His vow had come upon its conclusion with one final promise he all but growled, like it was somehow in danger of being broken—that he would go to any length to protect.

"And you will forever be mine."

His pause at the end indicated to the priest that the his vow had ended, and the way your lips parted in wonder and your wide eyes remained locked on his made him want to lean in and kiss you like every inch of his body burned to do. But he had to, begrudgingly, wait; hoping the ceremony would end as soon as possible so he could finally have you to himself and ask you all the questions he was dying for the answers to.

Did you really mean what you said? He sure did, and he didn't even know he had the capacity to not only promise, but want, desperately so, the fulfill the oaths he had declared to you.

Soon enough, the priest announced it was now time for the bestowing of the rings—a symbol of the bond you will share for eternity.

As the ring bearer, Childe's dear brother, Teucer, brought the rings resting on a white silk pillow over to the altar and held it over his head while he balanced on his tippy toes so the two of you could reach the rings with ease. Childe immediately felt awash in shame. All he'd purchased for you was a simple silver band—no precious gems, no original detailing, just a band. He didn't expect to want to take pride in the symbol of his loyalty you'd wear for him on your finger. He'd get you a new one, a better one—one he could admire as he kissed your hand, held it with adoration and smoothed his fingers over it.

But although the ring fell below expectations, there was no disappointment on your face. You barely glanced at it, your eyes trained on his face with a fondness he'd never received before. Your gaze had his heart spilling over with exaltation.

You took his hand in yours and slipped the perfectly fitted ring around his finger, giving it a small squeeze when you were done—as if to brand your affection deep into his hand.

He returned the gesture, taking your other hand in his and, carefully, securing the ring around your finger as well; he breathed a sigh of relief and felt a weight he hadn't known was resting on his shoulders alleviate. His heart thundered in his chest, threatening to leap out in a desperate attempt to be ever closer to yours.

The priest spoke, but his voice was drowned out by Childe's inner voice, wailing for you.

All he could register was the sound of your silver bell-like voice, piercing through the fog in his head like a star's light in the void of the night sky above.

"I do.", you said.

He couldn't tell if he'd rushed ahead of the priest's announcement of his turn or not, but he followed your statement blindly.

"I do.", he whispered ardently, brushing the backs of those precious hands of yours softly with his thumbs.

After the final blurb recited by the priest, a sentiment he couldn't bring himself to listen to in his anticipation, he finally heard the words he'd been waiting for.

"You may now kiss the bride."

Without a moment of delay, he brought both of his hands up to cup your cheeks, a look of ache in his face as it felt like you had reached an invisible hand into his chest and gripped his heart, and kissed you.

Fervently, passionately kissed you.

It took your breath away, left you panting when he finally pulled away after remembering he was, in fact, in front of his parents and broader community.

But cheers sang from the crowd for your union as he led you back down the steps of the altar and out of the church, eyes trained on your feet with your hand secured in his—watching carefully as you descended to make sure you wouldn't fall. He treated you as if you were sculpted from crystal glass.

After the two of you crossed the threshold out of the church as one, Childe gently tugged your hand to draw you closer so that he could whisper in your ear.

"Could we take a walk in the garden?"

While the guests made their way to the reception hall for their lavish dinner, you and Childe strolled through the church's garden together, hands still intertwined as the two of you gazed at the various winter shrubs and evergreen trees sprinkled with snow. It was beautiful in its own kind of way; the way life persevered through otherwise uninhabitable conditions, how even the bear oak trees existed as intricate silhouettes against the grey sky—providing cover as the sun sank down and gave way to a grim dusk, it was wonderful, and in this moment, it was yours to share.

The two of you came to a halt at a marble bench next to a large, frozen fountain, adorned with swirling details and moulding from an older, more fanciful era. He swiped off the snow that had built on top of the bench, then removed his large, fur-lined cloak to rest on the surface. He led you down to sit on it, having fashioned a dry, warm seat for you as he stood.

"Won't you be cold?"

"I'll be fine.", he assured you. He'd grown used to the frigid air of his home country, having entered various conflicts with nothing but thin linen to cover him for the sake of his movements not being burdened by thick, heavy fabric.

"Thank you.", you spoke, softly, and the words warmed his chest more than any coat could.

He stood there for a long moment, just taking in the sight of you. He just couldn't believe you were real, and couldn't believe you were his at so little a cost—he'd done nothing but bellyache and pluck your name off of a paper, and somehow the situation ended up being the best decision of his life. He'd found someone that claimed to truly, deeply love him by sheer chance.

And that thought brought him to the question that had been weighing on his mind since your vows.

"Did you really mean what you said?", he asked, quietly, hesitantly. After the words left his mouth, he wished he'd never said them. He didn't want to know the answer; if he could live in a fantasy where a miracle like you truly adored him, he'd seize the opportunity and hold it close to his heart for the rest of his life. He felt like such a fool.

"Of course I did.", you chuckled, like the question was ridiculous.

"I thought you hated me.", he confessed, his curiosity for your change of heart getting the best of him when he knew better than to ask too many questions. You only quirked your head and blinked at him, indicating that he needed to clarify. "When we were younger, you acted like you wanted my head on a stick."

To that admission, you laughed heartily. It was a lovely sound, one his mind would no doubt play on repeat in his darkest of times, sending sparks to his heart that would keep him moving forward—back to you so he could hear it again and again. "I was a toddler, dear. I didn't understand my feelings! And you were pretty nasty to me, too.", you said with a playful, pointed look.

The term of endearment made his heart bubble, craving to hear you say it again, but his mind was desperate for more answers. "But...how did you...", he coughed awkwardly, "fall for me?".

His carefully spoken question only made you giggle once again, but you could understand his confusion.

"Oh, Ajax. You were the most entertaining person I've ever met. I know we fought, but I remembered your presence in my life so fondly. And I'd look at pictures of us from our old gatherings, where our parents would force you to hold me on your lap and smile, or take candid shots of us chasing each other around, and I'd wish for you to come back so we could fight again.", you laughed at the memory. "I thought of you all the time, you know. And, as I grew older and life passed by, I'd keep looking back on those photos and...", your cheeks turned even redder than the chilly air had already done, flushing your cheeks and nose. After this conversation, Childe would make sure to rush you inside so you could warm up by a hearth. "Well, my heart would beat for you. And I wished you would come back for different reasons...so I could see you again and fall in love with the man you've become."

Childe gulped in shame. He knew the man he'd become was...cruel. Wicked. He'd never thought so little of himself than when he stood before you, your glorious, pure eyes assessing him like Celestia would upon the day of his death.

But how you looked on at him was not in judgement, but affection. "And when I met you at the altar, I did. I truly did."

He was so swayed by your words, so caught up in your devotion, that though he knew he was undeserving, he leaned down and connected your lips with his once again; his large hands warmed you where they caressed your cheek and the side of your neck, his lips thawing your frozen ones. The flavor of you was intoxicating, but as much as he wanted to prolong this moment, your icy skin pushed him to get you inside immediately.

So he drew back, drawing the most angelic whine of protest from your lips. It made him grin in pride.

"Let's warm you up, huh?"

Though you wanted to stay in the privacy of this isolated garden, continue to live in this moment that only existed for the two of you, you couldn't deny how you shivered and your stomach growled. It was time for your reception, and you couldn't keep your guests waiting.

So you, albeit reluctantly, let Ajax pull you up into his arms and throw his cloak around the both of you before taking you back to the church where he married you, now entering sharing one heart, one life, one love. Forever.

#genshin x reader #childe x reader #genshin x you #genshin childe #genshin impact #genshin fluff #genshin ajax #childe x you #genshin tartaglia x reader #tartagalia x reader #tartaglia x you #tartaglia x reader #genshin tartaglia #childe angst #childe fluff #enemies to lovers #genshin childe x reader #childe genshin impact #childe imagines #childe x fem!reader #tartaglia x fem!reader #tartaglia fluff #tartaglia genshin impact #ajax genshin impact #tartaglia imagines #childe fanfiction #tartaglia fanfiction #genshin impact fanfics #genshin impact fluff #genshin imagines

[chuluoyi]

✎ daddy-to-be

- gojo satoru x reader

in which you're worried about how he'd react to you carrying his baby

genre: fluff and comfort, mentions of pregnancy and dizzy spells

note: i feel soooo warm writing this *sigh* thank u anon who asked this!

a part of gojo's love entries

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

"Gojo-sensei! Must we do this?"

"For real?!"

"Okaka..."

"Yoohoo! Hehehehe~"

You sighed at the sight of your tall paintbrush of a husband. Satoru was supposedly teaching his first years—Maki, Panda and Inumaki—and yet, from where you were standing, it looked more like he was bullying them into following his whims more than anything.

A kind reminder that… this silly man is the father of your unborn child.

He didn't know that you were pregnant yet, because you had discovered it just a few days ago and chosen to keep it a secret for the time being.

In theory, this was normal. You two were married and engaged in a high level of sexual activity—something Satoru made sure of—and therefore, conceiving a child was bound to happen sooner or later.

Admittedly, accepting the fact that you were carrying his baby wasn't as easy as you thought, even knowing that. You hadn't seriously talked about having kids, and sure, your husband might have just taken a young cursed boy Yuta into his care—and way before that, Megumi, but it wasn't the same with your own child. It can't be the same.

And not to mention that you two were jujutsu sorcerers. Where would raising a baby fit in this bloody, cursed world you lived in?

...and above all, as things stand now, does Satoru even want a baby?

You released another sigh as you walked away, but then your vision tipped and you had to grab the wall for support. Right, you hadn't even been feeling well these past few days. You got queasy easily, and you experienced sporadic bouts of vertigo too.

"Sensei?" Yuta's worried voice greeted you, and you forced yourself to remain upright. "Are you okay?"

"Ah, yes, I'm fine," you assured him with a smile.

"Should I get Gojo-sensei? You seem pale..."

"No, no, that's—"

"Ooh~ Wifey!"

You cursed his impeccable timing as the striking white hair of your husband came to view. A mischievous grin adorned his face, a bundle of sunshine and trouble as always, as he wrapped an arm around you.

"Don't you have to teach the second years? My pretty wife, you can't be slacking—"

His smile abruptly fell when you subconsciously leaned on him and he noticed your shallow breaths. Satoru promptly tightened his grip on you.

"Yuta," his tone had taken a sharper turn. "Go to the training grounds and train with the others. Class ends after that."

As Yuta nodded and proceeded on his way, he immediately turned to face you. "What's wrong?" he asked with genuine concern. "Are you not feeling well? Can you walk?"

"I'm fine," you insisted, even though the edges of your vision started to blur.

Satoru pursed his lips, and you could tell even with his blindfold on, he was staring at you hard. "Don't be stubborn. Come on, let's get you home."

In an instant, he teleported you back to your shared home, his arms securely under your knees. You didn't know when the dizziness started to ramp up, but you were sure to fall if he didn't have a secure grip on you.

"How long have you been feeling unwell?" he inquired as he carefully lowered you onto your bed.

Realizing there was no point in hiding it any longer, you squeezed your eyes shut as your head rested on the soft pillow. "...since this morning."

Satoru expressed his dissatisfaction with a grunt. "In that case, you shouldn't have gone to school. From now on, you're on leave."

He fussed over you—removing your shoes, fine-tuning the air conditioner, and ensuring you were snug in bed. "What is causing you to feel this bad? Is it something you ate? We had dinner together, and I feel perfectly fine..."

You raised your gaze to him just as he tore off his blindfold, his eyes locking with yours. The blue of his eyes scrutinizing and assessing you, and suddenly, you felt insecure as he quirked an eyebrow, seemingly suspecting something. “Is there something you aren't telling me?”

This is it. You couldn't keep this from him any longer. This was his child as much as yours, he had to know for you to be able to decide on the next steps.

You exhaled. "I'm… pregnant."

Silence. For the next five seconds, you could've sworn that Satoru held his own breath.

"Pregnant?" he repeated, stunned, widened cerulean marbles blinking several times. "You...?"

You sat up, reaching for your nightstand and retrieving the five pregnancy tests you had stashed in the drawer, handing them to him.

Satoru fixed his gaze onto the two red lines on the sticks, examining them and then shifting his eyes between you and them several times. You didn't dare to look at him, feeling your hands starting to shake and your gut twisting.

But contrary to your dread, before you could blink, he pulled you into his embrace. Your heart melted as he softly murmured, "Dummy, why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I... I was worried. I didn't think I..."

He nuzzled into your neck, breathing in deeply. "Silly... I'm supposed to be your safe space. You can and absolutely should tell me these kind of things..."

A lingering fear persisted in your gut as you croaked out, "Are you... okay with it?"

Satoru snapped his head so quickly, his brow furrowed. "What do you mean—of course I am! Why wouldn't I be?"

You didn't know why, but his impromptu and steadfast declaration brought tears to your eyes.

"Stupid," he chided, his voice tinged with slight giddiness and overflowing fondness, and doubled with the wide grin on his face, you were starstruck. Holding your hand, he pressed a tender kiss on your knuckles, and then on the wedding band resting on your ring finger.

His sincere, warm eyes spoke volumes as he said, "You are my beautiful, lovely, and amazing wife. And now you're about to make me a daddy. Why wouldn't I be thrilled about that?"

You had given him love that saved him in countless ways, some of which you might not even realize. And now, you were about to gift him another piece of you to love—his own family to cherish. Satoru was convinced he couldn't love you more than he did in this moment.

You cried even harder, wiping your face sloppily as you pouted at him, voice clogged with tears, a mixture of relief and happiness overwhelming you. "Why are you so s-sweet? You're u-usually... such a menace..."

"Hey! That's slander! I'm always nice to you!" he protested with a mock frown, trying to lighten the mood.

Satoru brought you into his arms again, affectionately stroking your hair. His excitement was palpable as he chuckled gleefully at the very idea of becoming a father to a mini-him or you in a not-so-distant future.

With that sentiment in mind, he genuinely meant every word of what he softly uttered in your ear:

"I love you, sweetheart. And mark my words—with everything I have, I won't let anything happen to you or our baby… I swear it."

#𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 #gojo satoru x reader #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk x you #gojo x reader #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #gojo x you #gojo #gojo fluff #gojo satoru imagines #jjk fluff #gojo satoru fluff #dad!gojo #satoru gojo fluff #jjk gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jutusu kaisen x reader #satoru x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo

[ponderingmoonlight]

Satoru Gojo purposely keeping the scar you gave him instead of using reversed technique

Pairing: husband! Gojo x reader

Word Count: 1,6k

Synopsis: When his skin gets busted by your sheer excitement, it doesn't feel right to Satoru to use his reversed technique and simply heal.

Warnings: fluff fluff fluff, Yuji's "death" scnene in season 1, blood lol

Thank you dear anon for aggressively reminding me that it's canon for Gojo to not have any scars, it really helped me cooking up that fic! 🤍

Every step feels like hell, the only thing that keeps you from collapsing onto the floor being the reassuring hand of your husband on your shoulder.

This can’t be true, it’s just impossible. Yuji Itadori was a member of Jujutsu High for a few weeks, just started to get to know this world better. This was supposed to be an easy mission, the three of them should have made it out alive with ease. But apparently, Sukuna decided to show up. And apart from injuring Megumi, he violently took Yuji’s life by ripping his heart out. A heart made of pure gold, a heart so precious that you couldn’t help but care for that boy the minute you saw him.

But now he’s dead.

Your hands start shaking immediately the minute you step into this cursed room you visited far too often, gazing at Yuji’s body covered by a cloak. This isn’t a bad dream. No, the blood covering the white cloak tells you more than urgently that Yuji Itadori isn’t there anymore.

“Please tell me that there’s a chance he’ll come back”, you mutter.

Oh, how much both Shoko and Satoru hate to see you like that. It’s not a secret to anyone at Jujutsu High how deeply you care about your students, loving them like your own children. Of course, this isn’t the first time you’ve seen a student die in front of your eyes. In times like these, jujutsu sorcerers pass away like flies. But Satoru knows what you’ve seen in Yuji, that he somehow reflected parts of yourself. And still, you weren’t able to protect that boy, both Satoru and you coming too late to rescue him.

“I really wish I could, but he shows no signs of life. I’ll move on to autopsy now. If you want to say goodbye…Maybe do it now and leave afterwards.”

Satoru wraps his arms around you just in time before you slide onto the ground, holding you tightly against his chest.

“This is not fair”, you breathe out, head still not able to accept Yuji’s farewell.

He was so young, so full of life. He doesn’t deserve to die, he still had so much ahead of him. There needs to be something you are able to do. Aren’t Satoru or Shoko able to use their cursed technique?

“He didn’t show any signs of life for hours by now, (y/n). Not even Shoko or me are able to bring him back to life. I’m so sorry”, he mumbles against your ear out of nowhere.

So this is really how it ended? With Yuji getting killed by none other than Sukuna himself? Like in trance, your wobbly legs carry you to the autopsy table his lifeless body lays on. You want to stretch out your arm, want to look at that precious boy one last time before Shoko does her job.

But you can’t.

“I can’t look at him”, you blurt out.

With a swift motion, you turn around and burry your face against your husband’s chest.

“It’s okay babe, just look at me, okay? You don’t have to do this.”

Satoru’s arms keep you from losing yourself completely, soak up your falling tears while his head rests against yours. Oh Yuji, you’ll never be forgotten. All the laughter’s both of you shared, his potential, how he always cared about others. You will think about him every time the sun starts to rise, when new students get greeted, when you kill another curse-

“Hey, what’s up? Huh, what are both of you doing here, Gojo-sensei?”

This voice…

That was Yuji Itadori.

Out of instinct you turn around rapidly, not even noticing how the back of your head crushes into Satoru’s forehead with full force. He sees starts, blood taking his sight in an instant while his mind isn’t even able to comprehend it was Yuji who just spoke.

“Yuji! Are you okay? Are you hurt? You’re back!”, you babble out, embracing the boy in a tight hug.

“To be honest I don’t even know what happened last and I’m pretty hungry…Oh, you’re bleeding Gojo-sensei!”

You’re…bleeding? You turn around in confusion, following Yuji’s eyes.

“OMG SATORU!”, you cry out, the sight of your husband covered in his own blood shocking you to your core.

When did that happened…Was it…you?

“I guess you were so happy to see Itadori that you’ve forgot about me standing behind you”, he mutters amused.

“Babe I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just got so carried away and-“

“Don’t worry about me. Reversed technique, remember? I’ll be whole in seconds. Just look after Yuji, I love you.”

You let out the breath you were holding, the bright smile forming on your gorgeous face making Satoru forget the world around him for a moment. You are so caring, so passionate. And you are his wife.

“I’m a lucky man”, he mutters to himself while pressing the tissue Shoko handed him against his wound.

There you sit, gently caressing Yuji’s cheeks and asking him over and over if he’s okay.

“You really are. This isn’t a problem for you, right?”, Shoko questions with one glance at the laceration on his forehead.

The shocked look on your face replays itself over and over in his mind, lets a chuckle escape his lips. With the help but his reversed technique, it would be way too easy to get rid of that minor wound. Within seconds, there wouldn’t even be a scar left, just his flawless skin. But…it was you who did this to him out of sheer excitement. It sure would be nice to look into the mirror and get reminded of you daily, right?

“Oh, I might as well keep that”, he replies with a sly grin.

- a few weeks later -

You sit on the edge of the couch, desperately waiting for that time of the day. Even after being married to that force of a man for 4 years now, you find yourself getting all excited when he announces that he’s going to shower. Because going to shower means that he’ll come out just wearing boxers with his body still a little wet and his hair sticking to his face in that delicate way.

“Still waiting for me, huh? It’s not like you can see me naked every time you want, babe”, he finally purrs.

Your heart skips a beat. This man…How is it even allowed to look so breathtakingly gorgeous? The way a single droplet of water runs down his cheek, how he gently strokes his damp hair back.

Wait. You squint your eyes a little harder. What is that on his forehead?

“What do you have there?”, you question, rubbing your own hand against the ride side of your forehead.

This almost looks like a scar. But Satoru shouldn’t have scars. After all, he’s able to use reversed technique, healing himself in the matter of seconds. Is it just dirt? No, that definitely looks like scar tissue.

“Oh, it’s nothing”, he immediately tries to brush you off, pulling his hair back into his face.

“No way Romeo, come back here right now”, you demand.

With a swift motion you lift yourself off the couch and hunt after him.

“Is that a scar?”

“It might be…”

“Why didn’t you just heal it? Show it to me!”

When you finally catch him, you slick his hair back again. Only to be greeted what indeed looks like a middle-sized scar. But why and how did this happen, why didn’t he just heal like he usually does?

“You really don’t know where this came from?”, he challenges you.

You blink a few times. What the hell is your husband talking about?

“Why would I know where this came from?”

“Because it was you, (y/n)?”, he playfully bites back.

You? Your mind races, searching for a single moment you ever hurt your husband. You were never really able to even hurt him, no matter how berserk you went in training. When was the last time you even wounded him? But wait, there was this one time you made him bleed, that one time when…

“This was when Yuji woke up-“

“EXACTLY!”, Satoru cries out and gives you a round of applause.

“But why did you keep it? You said you’d be able to heal it…”

“Because I didn’t want to. This scar right here”

Gently, he takes your hand in his and traces the soft scar with your fingertips.

“will always remind me of what a wonderful human being you are.”

Oh. Your eyes turn glossy in an instant, staring up at your loving husband while he gifts you with the most breath-taking smile you’ve ever seen.

“Satoru”, you breathe out.

There is no time to waste. You wrap your longing arms around his tall frame tightly, aiming to never let him go again.

“Every time I look into the mirror, I think about my wonderful wife”, he mutters into your hair.

“Y’know, you could just take a picture of me or something-“

“No. I would rather just keep that scar of my wonderful wife smacking me over a student.”

You hit him playfully over his comment, a giggle escaping your precious lips.

“Come on, it wasn’t like that…”

“I’ll always tell the story like this.”

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Dividers by @saradika 🤍

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