#they are both hope personified

[vorbarrsultana]

another headcanon: finrod and fingon became truly close friends in helcaraxë. they spent a lot of time together because someone had to step up and be fingolfin's right and left hands. (fingolfin is sure he would have gone mad without them. fingon and finrod are sure they would have gone mad without each other.)

#they are both hope personified #and the kind of elves that would go around during short periods of rest just chatting with their people #cheering them up and allowing them to cry on their shoulders #and making sure they keep seeing the promise of land ahead #also if i had to pick a finwëan cousin who could have known about /rescue maedhros/ plan #i would pick finrod! #he's the only other elf who would say #sure fingon go ahead a harp and faith in inherwnt goodness of the world is enough to take on melkor #*inherent #tolkien #the silmarillion #fingon #finrod

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐘𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐙𝐀 𝐅𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 ❞

❝ WHAT HAPPENS WHEN TWO YAKUZA HEIRS ARE FIGHTING OVER WHO GETS TO MARRY YOU ?? ❞

✧ pairing: yakuza!satoru gojo x f!reader x yakuza!suguru geto

✧ summary: you had no patience for the yakuza lifestyle your grandfather had -- you wanted to live a normal life, but when it leaks that your grandfather is in talks to have you engaged to one of two yakuza heirs -- you realize you're in deeper than you thought -- especially when they both fall in love with you.

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, fluff, inspired / dialogue / scene concepts taken from the manga “yakuza fiance,” (which the fic is named after), reader's age is ambiguous, but all are 20s+, violence (as expected from mafia / yakuza stories), blood, stsg have tattoos, implied satosugu (just a passing mention of dating briefly), stsg have sadomasochistic tendencies, a little ooc, switch! gojo (very sub gojo), switch! geto, oral (f + m), deepthroating, handjob (m), fingering (f! receiving), double penetration, sex (p in v), creampie, poly relationship implied ending,

✧ wc: 18,476

“I don’t want to marry either of you,” 

And your statement is met with confused stares — and normally stares like this wouldn’t be terrifying to the average person, but these were not average men you were dealing with. 

Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto were anything but average — in many ways. 

Both were incredibly handsome — Satoru was blessed with a piercing blue gaze of the heavens and snow white locks that could stun any person into silence, and Suguru was no slouch either — with long inky black locks tied into a neat bun and his sharp features and his almost all too alluring smile — the two of them looked like they belonged to a modeling agency. Both were also brilliant, attending one of the best high schools in Tokyo, before going to the best university, leading in their respective specialities (Satoru studying physics, while Suguru chose literature). 

And, the two were both the heirs to two of the most dangerous Yakuza families in all of Japan. 

But right now, they are your biggest problems, personified. 

Their families were both vying for your hand in marriage — thanks to your meddling grandfather who shipped you off to Tokyo to get a would-be Yakuza husband — your yakuza family hoping to broker peace after decades upon decades of fighting with one of the other two biggest yakuza families around — the Gojo and Geto families respectively. 

“Excuse me?” Suguru speaks first, a single eyebrow raised, arms crossed over his crisp white button up. 

“I’m not here for this yakuza bullshit. I’m trying to live my own life — and I’m not in the mood to get swept along in my grandfather’s wishes for me to get married,” your hand is in your bag, fingers curled around your collapsible metal pole, “and I don’t care to know either of you, I don’t really care to stick around you — especially because all its earned me is the disdain of all the other students who have crushes on you — so how about we simply tolerate each other for this year?” 

Satoru whistles, “how disappointing,” his eyes raking over you from head to toe, “you’re worse than your reputation — we heard you were a stuck-up, spoiled rich girl that would do anything to get her way, but turns out you’re just normal,” he sticks out his tongue and makes a gagging noise, “how boring,” 

“Truly tiresome,” Suguru hums, his bangs falling in his dark gaze, “I was looking forward to a woman who could match up to us — maybe fuck me up, punish me, and strip away my dignity — type of girl who’d ruin my life, do you understand?” 

You stare at him, lips parted, brow furrowed, “What?” 

“In other words, we were hoping you were much more interesting than you were — as you are now, you’re just useless,” Satoru sighs dramatically, his pink lips curled in a smile, “bor-inggggg,” 

“You might as well go back to Osaka, or wherever it was you came from,” Suguru shrugs, hands in his pockets, as he pulls a cigarette and a lighter, “you could stay, but as it stands, you would be better off back home — maybe it would even start a war — that could be fun, Satoru,” he remarks, his grin growing more sinister by the minute, as he places the cigarette between his lips, and lighting it. 

“Let’s actually not be so hasty, Suguru. She could have some use,” he holds out his fingers to frame you between them, “could be worth something if we have her work at one of our families clubs — selling her body. She could make some use for us,” he says cruelly, “Otherwise, go back home, and let them know we’re the ones not interested in you,” he says, brushing past you along with Suguru. 

And you couldn’t decide which one of their smiles were the most bone chilling — and why you couldn’t quite find your voice in that moment. And you didn’t — not until you finally reached home, your phone ringing. 

“How’s it going, dear granddaughter?” you could hear the grin of the old coot even over the phone — and how could you tell him you wanted to go home now? You had hoped to go there to give two rejections — not earn two of your own. You hoped to stick out the year before leaving this place behind, if only to appease your grandfather. 

“I’m fine, but I think…I think I’m homesick,” you sit on the edge of your bed, hunched over, hand holding your head up, propped against your knee. 

“Why’s that? Did something happen?” 

“Nothing, I just—” 

“You’re not coming back home,” and your hopes fall, “one year, you have to stay one year no matter what. Don’t care if you have to fight with every bone in your body and fiber of your being — last a year,” 

“But why—” 

“Make those boys fall for you, and then break their hearts, heh — your grandfather is a heartbreaker and I know you can do the same,” and you know his lips are curled in a smile not too dissimilar to the two men you met today, “don’t forget where you come from — and what you’re worth,” and he cuts the line, as you stare at your phone, before tossing it away and lying back. 

Well, you know what you had to do. 

~~~

“Morning,” you know where’d they be — the only free period they had together that they spent in the dining hall with their entourage — including some girls who had been harassing you about how you knew the pair — ones you had suspected in fucking with your locker, smearing mud all over your shoes. A small retaliation for capturing their precious crushes’ attention.

The two heirs only stare for a moment — it had been two weeks since they had seen you, “thought I had gone home?” 

“Surprised you didn’t,” Suguru remarks, utterly disinterested from the look in his eyes, despite the smile plastered on his lips, “guess I lost the bet, Satoru,” 

You raise an eyebrow at Satoru, “you thought I’d stay?” 

“Thought you'd stay to take me up on my offer to sell your body,” he holds out his hand as Suguru slaps a stack of bills in his palm, “did you?” 

“I did actually,” your lips curl, as their gazes slide to one another, before you drop a bag on their table, “one kidney, 5,000,000 yen,” and you take delight in the smiles that slide off their expressions, as they stare at you, Satoru looking over the lip of the bag before you knocked it over and let the stacks of money spill over the table, “it took two weeks since it took a while to arrange and recover, but it was well worth it,” 

The pair only can stare — expression unreadable and words seemingly stolen from their mouths, as you only smiled down at them, your gaze digging into their faces like daggers.

Suguru’s eyebrows knit together, “How did you—“ 

“Friend of a friend,” you shrug, “I’ll have to be on a low sodium diet and probably do blood work a little more frequently but you were right about one thing — I was being weak,” you lift up your shirt to show the bandage on your side, their eyes wide, as they can only stare, “I won’t be making that mistake again,” 

And you place your foot up on their table, leaning in, as the mask slips from your face, and your anger surges forth, “listen here, you masochistic fuckers, I’m not scared of either one of you. I don’t care if I have to crawl home choking on my own blood, I’ll be sure you’re choking on each other’s as I drag you both to hell. I’m staying here, whether either of you like it or not,” 

“You can’t talk to them like that—“ one of the girls pipes up, her lips twisted in a frown. 

“I can talk to them however I want - do you know who I am? I come from a family just like there’s but we actually know how to cover up our crimes,” you chuckle, head tilting, “do you know how easy it’d be to get rid of you two?” Your gaze slides to the other girl, “it’d be all too simple — and trust me, I’d get my hands dirty if it’s the two of you,” your lips curl into a wide grin as you add, “after all, you guys did me the favor of dirtying my shoes already,” 

And the two blanch white, all indignance replaced with genuine fear — and you had never known someone could look at you as someone to be feared. 

And you didn’t know you would like it so much. 

You staple the smile on your face again, as the two heirs still sit speechless in their seats, eyes glued to you,  “Well that’s all,” you slide back, “I have to head to class—” 

But then your wrists are caught — pulling you back, as you find yourself pinned on either side by the two heirs, your body tense, before your gaze slides between them, “What?” 

“Marry me,” they both say simultaneously — and you gape at them. 

You are pushing them back, palms pressed against their chests, but find yourself met with two immovable objects, instead trying to squirm out of their grips. “What?” And their grips loosen enough for you to take a step back, but their hands remain around your wrists. 

“I have to have you,” Suguru presses a chaste kiss to the back of your hand, dark gaze lidded as he looks up at you, and a shiver climbs up your spine, “I’ve never been so terrified or turned on in my life — it must be love,” 

Satoru is the same, mesmerized with eager words, “I want you to do what you promised, Princess — ruin my life,” Satoru’s lips curled in a wide grin, “want you to completely fuck me up, dominate my entire life — and there’s only one way to do that, marry me,” 

Suguru only scowls at Satoru, “You know Satoru, it’s very rude to propose after your best friend does,” Suguru’s gaze slides to him, “she’s mine,” and his other hand finds your shoulder, pulling you against his chest, even as you struggle against their grips, “her family reached out to mine first,” 

“Fuckers, I swear to god, let me go—“ but they act as if they can’t hear you, a current of possessiveness sweeping their thoughts away. 

“So what? Her family decided to ask for my hand — looks like yours wasn’t good enough,” Satoru only grins, pulling you against him instead, his breath warming your flushed skin, as you grimace, “and I’d make her happier than you ever would.” 

“Want to take this outside, Satoru?” Suguru’s glare sent chills down your spine, but Satoru’s lips split into a smile so wide, you were afraid his head would crack in two. 

“Why? Feeling lonely? Go by yourself,”

And finally you stomp on Satoru’s foot before elbowing Suguru in the stomach, drawing groans from both boys, as you stumble away from them, whirling to face them, “Don’t treat me like your goddamn property or that I’m a prize to be won,” your words slip like venom from your lips, “don’t ever fucking touch me without asking,” 

“Of course, we’re sorry,” Suguru only grins after, holding his stomach, but he still looks all too delighted, “you should reprimand us like the scum we are, isn’t that right Satoru?” 

Satoru nods, pouting, “Yeah we deserve more of a punishment,” and your skin crawls at their eagerness. 

“I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you two, but I don’t want anything to do with it,” you walk away, hiding your dumbstruck expression, but the two only followed you. 

“You can’t just walk away from us, you have to decide who you want,” Suguru calls after you, their long strides meant they caught up all too fast, and you’re armed with your collapsible pole now, pointing it at both of them. 

“Two minutes ago, both of you thought I was normal and boring,” your eyes narrow — was this another plot to just sell you to some club? 

“And I’m sorry about that sweetheart,” Satoru’s arm is around your waist again, while Suguru’s fingers intertwined with yours, “we were clearly wrong — and you have to take responsibility,” 

You stare at them, “for what?” 

And he’s leaning to whisper in your ear, “I’m so hard for you right now,” And you’re whirling on them with the pole, but they both expertly dodge your assault, before you’re hurrying away. But they let you go, watching after you with a grin. 

“This is going to be fun,” Suguru remarks, looking at his best friend, “I can’t guarantee I won’t kill you for her hand,” 

Satoru only smirks in reply, “You stole the words out of my mouth, Suguru.” 

~~~

It had been a week — a week of you trying skillfully to evade the two yakuza heirs. 

And you had failed. No matter how fast you left your classes, where you hid, where you sat — the two always found you. And now you have resorted to sitting outside to eat your lunch, being careful to avoid any stray glance of your presence. You sat, back against the building, as you held your head, bento box in your lap — how long until they would get the message? How long until they figured out you wanted nothing to do with them? 

Your grandpa had told you to make them fall for you, but you didn’t think you had too much more to do with how the two were following you around, dogging your every step. 

How would you last another year? 

You opened your bento — at least for once, you could enjoy your lunch without one of them— 

“There you are,” and your lunch nearly goes tumbling out of your lap, but you grasp it, keeping your food from spilling out of your bento, and you turn to meet the gaze of Suguru, leaning against the windowsill, “you’re a fast one, sweetheart,” his head tilted and lips curled in his signature smile. 

“How the fuck did you find me so fast?” you stare at him, brow furrowed, “it’s barely been five minutes, and this campus is huge,” 

“It’s the power of love, of course,” you cringe, and he laughs, bringing his knuckles to his lips, “oh rather, it’s the power of the tracking device I slipped in your bag,” 

And you blink, “You what?” 

He shrugs, “Well how else would I have found you so quickly? I’ll slip it in your shoe next time,” and he sighs, as you dig through your bag, before turning it upside down and letting your things spill out on the grass, “besides, there’s a good reason I’m tracking you,” and you find the tracker before stomping on it, digging your heel into it, crushing it into the dirt, “there’s been a kidnapping of another Yakuza heiress,” 

And your eyes flit to him, and he’s still smiling at you, “Who?” you continue to collect your things, shaking out textbooks and examining your things for any other hidden trackers. 

“You’ll learn tonight — come to the compound tonight — you’ve been formally invited by both my father and Satoru’s father,” and he’s hopping out of the window, fingers brushing yours as he hands you your pencil case, and he’s all too close now, his warm breath warming your lips. 

“And if I refuse?” and his lips curl in a smirk. 

“You’d be offending not only my family, but Satoru’s as well—” and he’s rising to his feet, offering you a hand, “and it might end in an all out war, but that would be just fine for us — would it for you?” 

You glare at him, taking his hand reluctantly, as he helps you to your feet, and you brush the dirt from your skirt and legs, “Fine, what time?” 

“After school, Satoru will be waiting by the gates for you,” he smiles, as he settles next to you, pulling out his own lunch, and you tilt your head, “oh are you curious about me? I have my own business to attend to,” 

“Is that what the other bastard is up to?” and he chuckles at that, taking a bite of his food. 

“Something like that.” 

~~~~

“Took you long enough, pretty,” the Gojo heir’s eyes drag over you like spotlights as he leans against the gate outside, the other students staring as you two speak, whispering as they walk by, slowing down to either catch a longer glance at Satoru or hear a bit of your conversation, “with being so quick to leave for lunch, I thought you’d be just as quick leaving the building,” and he’s offering you a drink from the vending machine that you reluctantly take. 

“Well, I wasn’t exactly looking forward to being a spectacle,” you grumble, as you power walk away from the burgeoning traffic jam that Satoru was causing, and he follows behind, “why do they all stare anyway? They know you're a yakuza, don’t they?” 

“Part of the draw,” he shrugs, the hiss of his own soda filling the air as he pops it open, “everyone wants what they can’t have, but don’t worry, I only have eyes for you, sweetheart,” you grimace as he sips at his soda, raising an eyebrow, “so what can’t you have?” 

You both finally reach the heart of the city, bustling with people left and right — the one thing you couldn’t get used to from the quieter life you led, “Some peace and quiet, apparently,” you adjust your bag on your shoulder in a tighter grip, if only you could lose him in this crowd and be done with all this shit, but it wasn’t that simple, and then it occurs to you, “did you put a tracker on me as well?” 

“Nah, I just used Suguru’s,” he smiles, as he downs the rest of his drink with his head thrown back, before crushing the can in his hand and tossing it away in the recycling bin nearby, “plus, I didn’t have time, been busy with other things, unfortunately,” 

“What things have you—” 

And you’re suddenly tugged into an alleyway, an arm around your neck and a hand clamped over your mouth, “Don’t struggle, it will only make it more difficult for you,” the man whispers in your ear, as another two men draw closer to your sides, “we’ll kill you if you do,” 

You can’t scream, but you don’t need to — because the man who grabbed you screams first. 

“Who the fuck are—” and he screams, his hands slipping from your side, the thump of his body against the pavement making you flinch, as you slowly turn to find Gojo, as he only glares at the other men, before his gaze slides to you, softening with a smile. 

“Sweetheart, it’s okay, come here,” and you swallow, before taking shaky steps to his side, and he’s pulling you behind him, “wait here,” 

It happens far too quickly.

Or maybe it’s just a blur now. Because now he’s beaten the three men into submission, their scarlet blood splattering against his uniform, the wet squelch of their flesh as he punches and kicks them, his shoe digging into their sides. He winds his fist back again. 

“That’s enough,” you say hoarsely, swallowing thickly, “they’re barely alive,” 

“More than they deserve,” he mutters, before sighing and grabbing one by his shirt, fabric straining against the dead weight of the man, and pulls him close, his hand connecting with his face as he slaps him awake, “You hear me? Listen,” he shakes him, until the man’s eyes blink open, bleary, “You see me? Don’t forget my face. You touch her again — and it’s the last thing you’ll see before the afterlife, got that?” 

“Yes,” the man slurs. 

“That’s my girl,” he jerks his head at you, “she’s mine and if you or any of your stupid friends or family see her, don’t talk or touch her, much less even look at her,” and his lips curl again, “or I promise my family and the Geto family will slaughter you — until there’s nothing left.” and he drops the man onto the ground, “let’s go,” he mutters, shaking the blood off his knuckles, before using the inside of his uniform jacket to wipe the rest off. 

“Your uniform, it's—” and he glances at the blood seeping into the fabric of his jacket and crisp shirt, and you’re digging through your bag, “I have my hand towel and some—” and he’s shaking his head. 

“I have a sweatshirt I can wear in my bag,” and he’s tugging off his uniform jacket and unbuttoning his shirt, and you can’t look away fast enough — not before seeing the tattoo littering his back. 

A large lion against his back, seemingly roaring, against a backdrop of bamboo, stared back at you, as your breath catches in your throat — he wasn’t just a spoiled heir, he was a real yakuza. And what he did to those men — his eyes met yours again, as he tugged the sweatshirt on, lips still in that ridiculous smile — it was likely the least of what he could really do to them. 

“Oh, sorry, guess I never told ya,” he pulls the orange sweatshirt down, pulling a pair of sunglasses on, and your horrified expression in the circular black rims stare back at you, “sorry for scaring you, sweetheart,” 

“You’re really—” you cut off, heart caught in your throat. Yeah, you had spent too much of your life surrounded by men covered in tattoos, but these two — their auras — were on another level that was simply — terrifying. 

“A yakuza?” he finishes, peering at you over the rim of his sunglasses, “Surprised it took you this long to figure out — thought you had that pieced together a while ago — what? I assume your family shielded you from that kind of violence — probably had guards on you 24/7 so no one would mess with you. Well you aren’t in Osaka anymore,” his fingers intertwined with yours, his larger hand engulfing yours as he tugs you along away from the alley, the faint groans of the men disappearing into the ambient noise of the city, “Stay close, princess.” 

And you flushed, biting your lip. There was a lot you didn’t know, but you knew you better learn — you spare one glance back at the alley — and quick. 

~~~

You both arrive back to the compound, as you’re funneled into a room, you get a glimpse of Suguru in an adjacent hallway, his clothes as bloodied as Satoru’s was, if not more. His dark eyes catch yours and his lips curl, as he holds his hand up as a greeting, mouthing, “Yo,” 

You’re shepherded away to sit, and soon enough, Satoru and Suguru join you, as you fidget in the middle of the room, the three of you sit on cushions, while another cushion directly in front of you. Your fingers can't help but toy with the ribbon on the front of your uniform — what if this was just a ruse to sell you off? Maybe they even found out about you selling your kidney? Anxiety swirled in your mind, dragging down your body to even the tips of your toes, your body buzzing and stinging with thoughts. 

“This really is just a talk to discuss the missing Yakuza heiress,” Suguru cuts through your thoughts, as you stare at him, slack jawed, and he only shrugs, leaning back against his hands flat on the floor, “you’re not hard to read, sweetheart,” 

“Besides, if we wanted to kill you, why not let you die in that alleyway?” Satoru chimes in, ever so helpful, as you glare at him, before his gaze slides to Suguru, “did you take care of that like I asked, Suguru?” and he nods, and before you can ask a question, the door slides open. 

Instead of the heads of the household, a yakuza comes in, sunglasses stare back at you, his dark brown hair slicked back, shaved on the sides of his head, as he stared down at the three of you, “The heads won’t be able to make it to this meeting — something has come up,” 

“Yaga, good to see you,” Suguru chirps, while Satoru only sighs, hands behind his head. 

“Glad to see you haven’t gotten yourself killed since you’ve been away, old man—“ and Satoru earns a fist to his head, “ow!” 

“Keep it up and you’ll get something worse than a whack to the head,” Yaga grumbles, taking his seat, “you must be the girl,” he eyes you up and down, “I’ll get straight to the point — the Akazawa heiress is missing. She’s assumed to be kidnapped,” he hands you a photo of her — shoulder length black hair, her eyes look past the camera, her head tilted downwards, but her hazel eyes pierce through the picture. 

“How long has she been gone?” Suguru asks, “any chance that she just ran off?” 

“There’s a chance she’s been sold off for a couple hundred thou,” Satoru remarks, crossing his arms, “people would pay a premium for a yakuza heiress,” and his eyes slide to you, and you glare back. 

“We don’t know — maybe she ran off, maybe she’s been sold, maybe there’ll be a ransom coming in at one point or another, or maybe she’s dead—” and you bite your lip, “but we can’t take the risk, especially since we have a similar heiress under our care now,” Yaga says, crossing his arms with a hefty sigh, “that being said, you’ll be staying at the compound until further notice— your things have already been brought here,“ you gape at him, mouth nearly hanging open, “and you’ll have Satoru or Suguru with you at all times — their schedules have been rearranged to have class with you,” 

“But—“ and Yaga shoots a look at you that silences your protests. 

“These orders came from the three heads, including your grandfather, would you like to defy them?” And your mouth clamps shut, your head falling. 

“No, sir,” Yaga rises, leaving, but not before ordering the two heirs to show you where you’ll be staying, “and any real threats to you appear, and your classes will be made online and you will remain under guard in the compound,” Yaga adds before disappearing behind another door. 

“It won’t be that bad, Princess,” Suguru grins, as they walk you to your room, “now we can really get to know each other before we’re married,” 

“Don’t you mean before we’re married?” Satoru says, as Suguru only smiles back at him. 

“I would rather not marry you, Satoru, dating you for a week was enough—“ and Satoru opens his mouth to reply. 

“I’m not marrying either of you,” you rub your head, feeling the beginnings of a headache creeping on your temples — you barely could make it through the day with enduring the amount of insanity these two already inflicted, you were sure you’d murder one or both of them if you had to spend 24/7 with them, “we should be keeping a low profile from now on, not going out—” 

“Except for the dates we have planned,” Satoru says, offering you the key to your room, and you unlock the door, stepping inside. 

“Especially not for those.” And you slam the door shut and lock it. 

Your eyes take in the boxes that surround you, full of the things from your apartment, and sigh. 

Fuck, this really was your life now, wasn’t it? 

~~~

“Why are you staring at me?” you can’t ignore Suguru’s stare in the subway, even when you refuse to meet it. The light from the windows flooded into the subway, flickering as the carts sped by, as the two of you hung onto the grab handles. Your usual peaceful ride to university was now impeded by Suguru who stood by your side, his eyes seemingly glued to you. 

“I see that your left side is slower to respond than your right,” and you shift under his gaze, “that’s why your bag is always on your left side, so you can spot a threat easier and have a stronger grip, smart,” 

You raise an eyebrow, “How did you figure that out?” 

He shrugs, “From observation — I also move a little slower on my left — I even blink slower,” and you face him, staring into his eyes, trying to notice any difference between the two eyes. The only thing you could see is how pretty they really were — dark and lidded, not as bright or striking as Satoru’s, but just as mysterious. 

“I can’t tell,” you tilt your head, and he only smiles. 

“There isn’t a difference, but I got you to stare into my eyes, didn’t I?” and you glower at him, your remark cut off by the influx of people flooding into the cart. Fuck, you never had seen it this full before. You forced yourself not to cringe under the tight quarters — you could handle this, it wasn’t a big deal, even as the people sandwiched themselves all around you, anxiety biting at your nerves. And then you’re knocked around by the crowd as the cart jerks, but then, Suguru is pulling you lightly so your back is pressed against a wall and he’s caging you in, his body protecting you. 

Your breath catches — he’s so close, “You don’t have to—” and your gazes meet again, your breath catching, your bag caught between your bodies. He’s nearly pressed against you, the heat from his form seeps into your own. And he smells good, despite the sticky heat of the summer lingering — something musky but sharp at the same time — what was that scent? 

“You seemed uncomfortable,” he says, his hand holding onto the grab handle above, “this seemed like the easiest solution, especially so I can protect you — it would be much easier to shield you with my body this way,” 

“Shut up,” you grumble, as he chuckles, before you’re sighing, “I’m not used to taking the subway — I used to have a car that took me back and forth,” you chew your lip, “I didn’t want you to think I couldn’t take care of myself,” 

“Makes sense to have you driven — as a yakuza heiress, they wanted precautions,” Suguru nods, his eyes sliding around the cart, “you never know,” 

“Is that why your eyes keep scanning the subway cart?” you raise an eyebrow. 

And his lips curl, “I did say I’d protect you with my life, didn’t I?” 

“Did you mean that?”

A chuckle escaped his lips, a noise that makes your breath catch, as the cart jerks again, pressing you both even closer, “I never say anything that I don’t mean, princess.” 

~~~

“Is following me around really necessary even after classes?” you hadn’t bothered to pull your usual disappearing act — it was counterproductive in multiple ways (the first being that either of them would find you and the second being you had to be glued to one of their sides at all times), “it’s not like someone is going jump from the shadows and kidnap me on campus.” 

“You don’t know that for sure, do you, princess?” Satoru drawls lazily, as he twirls his dinner knife around his fingers with a skill that said he’d done it a million times before — probably instead of doing the thing he was supposed to be doing, “a man comes up behind you while you’re studying or shopping, presses a weapon or gun to your side, just out of view, and he’s got the perfect hostage,” 

You raise an eyebrow, “You sound like you’ve done it before,” and the knife stops between his middle finger and pointer, the tip pointed at you, as he looks at you over the rim of his sunglasses. 

“Don’t get jealous, sweetheart, you’re the only girl I’d want to kidnap,” he leans forward and swipes a mochi from your plate — even though he had already ate his own — and you scoff, as you turn your attention back to your neglected dessert, choosing to use your brain cells to focus on your food instead of this psycho. 

“How lucky,” you mutter, as you stab your remaining mochi instead of your escort, “do the two of you have to take shifts like this? I’m surprised the two of you aren’t glued to my sides 24/7 together,” 

“We thought it was only fair the two of us split our time — and as much as I’d like to spend each and every hour with you, we both unfortunately have other responsibilities to tend to,” and he takes a bite of the mochi, “plus, this way, we get to spend time with you alone without the other interfering, and trust me, if I saw you with Suguru,” his lips curl, “I’d interfere,” 

“Well you don’t have to be worried about that, because I don’t plan on being with either one of you,” you reply, “I’m here to finish school and go home as soon as I can,” 

“You won’t be saying that once I make you fall for me,” 

You get to your feet, as you pull out your wallet — but Satoru waves you off, already pulling out his card for the waiter, “You’d have a better chance making me fall for you if you tripped me,” you roll your eyes, as you round the booth, and quick as a light, you trip right into his arms, your body bumping against his chest as his arms steady you. A hand tilts your face up to meet cerulean eyes filled with mirth, “did you trip—” 

And then you spot the chair leg you had tripped over oh-so-gratefully, “I don’t need to resort to those measures to make you fall for me, princess,” his finger traces your jaw with a featherlight touch, “I have plenty of other ways to do that,” 

You get to your feet properly and shove him away, as he chuckled, as you rolled your eyes, “Maybe in your twisted dreams, but—” And Satoru is tugging you away from the booth — a tight arm around you waist, as you stammer, “what the fuck are you—” 

“Guy’s been following you — just spotted him from a distance,” he murmurs, and your shoulders tense, resisting the urge to look back, “just keep walking with me, don’t worry,” his arm gently squeezed you, “won’t let anything happen to you, princess,” 

“Don’t call me that,” you murmur, as he leads you back inside the closest building, “where are we—” and he’s pulling out his phone, texting several people. 

“Getting us a ride in case I need to get you to safety, and letting Suguru know of the situation,” he offers you a small grin, “I could send you back, but that would be that and you will be on lockdown. Things might be getting a little more interesting from here — so it’s your choice, will you stay or go?” 

You considered your choices — you could run away from this, go back to the compound, but going back was a guarantee that you would be stuck 24/7 in the compound and stuck there for the remainder of your time here. And these two would take full advantage of that. Plus, your mind wandered to the girl who had been taken — you wanted to know more about what happened to her and why you were being targeted next. 

“Let’s go,” and his lips curl. The two of you round several street corners, Satoru’s arm remains tight around your waist, as he leads to a more and more secluded corner of the city, “is this the right move?” your hand wanders into your pocket, fingers around your collapsible pole. 

He sighs dramatically, “Do you have such little faith in me, sweetheart?” 

“Considering the two of you are insane, yes, I do,” and he clicks his tongue at you, “where—” 

And someone punches you, fist connecting with your left cheek as you stumble sideways into the wall of a nearby building. You hear the cock of a gun, your eyes catch sight of the weapon pointed at Satoru. You caught a glimpse as your eyes flicker open, several men stand behind him, all bearing weapons of some sort. 

Your ears ring, as you clutch at your head, as you struggle to get your balance, your vision in your left eye blurry from the impact,  “Come with me, and your girlfriend won’t have to watch you die,” you feel something warm run down your nose, and you touch it — scarlet stains your fingers. 

Fuck. 

Your eyes flicker back to where Satoru stands, eyes flickering to you, a shiver running down your spine at his hard gaze — not a hint of euphoria left — his lips a thin line, and his fists clenched, “I’ll fucking kill you,” his words leave in a whispered hiss, and quick as lightning, the gun is knocked from his fingers, and Satoru’s got him pinned down, fist winding back to punch his head in. The other men don’t hesitate to join the fray, just as Satoru doesn’t hesitate to take them down, blood spilling from their bodies as they fall one by one. 

You said you would be stronger — that you wouldn’t let this happen again. You weren’t some person who needed to be sheltered away. Your fingers clutched at the pole in your pocket, pulling it out, as you slowly uncollapsed it — you were a yakuza heir, just as much as these two were. 

One of them got up to shaky feet, lifting up his knife to stab Satoru from behind, “DIE!” and you slam into his side, hitting over the head with the pole — a grisly crack as the pole nearly snaps against his skull. 

“Fuck off and die!” the words leave your lips as you taste your own blood dripping from your nose. And you can feel Satoru turn to see you, eyes wide as he stares —  your words burn as much as your head hurts, as you wipe the blood from your nose. 

And the men are all down now, as Satoru walks over to you, and his fingers reach gently for your face, as he examines the blood dripping, “it’s just a nosebleed,” you say, and his gaze softens ever so slightly, before darkening, as a groan comes from the man that punched you. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” your heart flutters at his gentle touch, the calluses of his fingers against your cheek, as he pulls tissues from his pocket to wipe the blood from your nose. 

And his eyes linger on your face for a moment, before he turns to the culprit, fingers clenched tightly around the napkin soaked in your blood. 

He drags the man up by the collar, shaking him, a gurgled groan leaving his bloody lips, “You might want to go, sweetheart — I have to make sure I let this one die for ever laying a hand on my woman—“ and you clasp your hand on his shoulder, shaking your head. 

“He’s half dead already — you don’t need to finish the job,” and he pouts, shaking the man again for good measure. 

“You said he should die—“ 

You shrug, “People like this aren’t worth the trouble of killing. And you don’t need more problems on your hands — so if you’re doing this for me, don’t bother. Let’s just go,” 

And you see his lips slowly curl into a grin, as he pulls you into a hug, arms around you waist, as he runs his fingers through your hair gingerly, “I didn’t realize you cared, sweetheart,” and you frown, “don’t want me getting in more trouble, huh? If it’s for you, I’ll oblige, but you owe me one,” and his fingers slide under your chin. 

“Oi, is the party over without me?” A familiar voice calls, Suguru walks over, several other Yakuza in tow, his sleeves rolled up, as he takes a once over of the situation, seemingly uninterested in the scum, his eyes falling on you and Satoru, lingering on the blood that still was trickling from your nose. His eyes narrowed, “which one—” 

“It’s already taken care of, Suguru,” Satoru rubs the back of his head, “but for your information,” he kicks the one who had punched you in his side, forcing him to roll over, a slight groan escaping his lips, “that’s the one who hurt her,” 

Suguru nodded, stepping over the bodies as if it was nothing more than a spill that had been yet to be cleaned up, as his hand brushes over your chin softly, drawing close, a sharp gasp leaving your lips when his fingers decide to travel to your nose, “It’s not broken, just bleeding, but I should still get her checked out at the compound,” 

“You?” Satoru furrows his brow, “you’re going to leave me—” 

“To clean up your own mess? Yes, I am,” Suguru smiles, “because it’s my turn to keep watch,” as he shows his watch, already well past midnight, “and I should be getting her back to the compound,” the two glare at each other, a tension settling over the scene that you were far too done with. 

You sigh, stepping past both of them, walking over the bodies splayed out on the floor, “Let me know when you both decide,” you yawn, hands in your pockets now, “I need sleep,” and Suguru follows behind, and you don’t see him turn to smirk at Satoru. 

~~~~

You swore someone was watching you. 

A presence loomed over you, hovering slightly, as you shifted in your sleep, a sigh parting your lips as you turned, still caught between in realms of deep sleep as you drifted in and out, eyes fluttering open a moment, and caught sight of a shadow. 

No, it was nothing. It was nothing. And then you’d wake to sunlight filtering through your windows, eyes fluttering open, but you would still wake with the lingering touch of someone else against your face. 

But each morning you’d check the locks, and it would be locked, with no signs of tampering — and you’d be left wondering if it was a dream or not. 

It had been like this for the last week — you’d sense a presence, for a split second of what you thought was consciousness, and then it would be morning again. 

And finally, you decided to stay awake, a knife you had pilfered away from the kitchen under your pillow. You let your eyes drift shut, drifting in and out of a half sleep, until you hear it. 

The slow slide of the door opening, and the soft close of the door behind. The person takes nearly soundless steps towards you, before leaning above you and you feel the faint brush of hair against your skin, before leaning back with a quiet sigh. 

Suguru?

And his fingers slide through your hair softly. He watches over you, quietly, until you turn to face him, eyes open. 

“You know it’s really creepy to break into a woman’s room in the middle of the night,” and Suguru blinks, before his lips curl in a small smirk, “and it’s even weirder when you just sit there to watch her sleep,” 

“Just trying to make sure you’re safe, sweetheart,” 

“In a locked room?” And he shrugs. 

“I broke in easily,” and you scoff, as he rakes his own fingers through his hair, “who else would keep an eye on you?” 

You sit up, crossing your arms, “Surprised you and Satoru aren’t in here,” 

“We take turns,” and you stare at him, as he leans back against the wall, “all we do is keep watch princess — would you have let us in otherwise?” 

You open and shut your mouth, before you find words again amidst the haze of frustration, “I’m not so fucking helpless that you both need to sit here and watch me sleep,”

“We have been doing this since the threats began nearly and you only noticed recently,” he points out, his eyes catching the faint light of the moon, as cautious and patient as Suguru was — his expression as indiscernible as a new moon was, “and it’s only because Satoru had gotten sloppy,” he shrugs. 

You rub at your temples, “you’re not the only one who is a yakuza—“ 

Suguru tilts his head, “Princess, you don’t know what it means to be one — not even your fingers have never been bloodied, and it should stay that way—“ 

Your fingers close around the handle of the knife as you lunge at him — you snapped. You were tired — tired of the men in your life running your life — your grandfather, these yakuza heads, and these two idiots — all of them treating you as if you were spineless. 

And you weren’t. 

His hand darts out — and it happens quickly. The knife clatters against the hardwood, and he’s pinned you underneath him. 

You glare, embarrassment licks at your cheeks like flames — you had placed your fingers on the stovetop and what were you expecting other than to get burned? You can’t meet his gaze, and you’re expecting another lecture or sanctimonious attitude, but instead, his fingers skim your cheek, “You should pick your battles wisely, sweetheart — because not all of them will let you off the hook,” and he leans close, breath warming your lips, as your eyes can’t help but squeeze shut. 

Only to wince after a sharp flick to your forehead. 

And his weight leaves you at once, your head turning to find him examining the knife you had stolen, “You should also choose a better weapon than a kitchen knife — especially one as dull as this one,” 

You scowl at him, “Well, how else will I defend myself?” 

And he smiles, shrugging, “Isn’t it simple? Use the weapons already at your disposal,” 

Your brow knots together, “What weapons?” And his hand is sliding the door open, as he casts one more glance over his shoulder, lips curled in that insufferable smile. 

“The ones sworn to you.” 

~~~~ 

“You’re staying home tomorrow from class,” the thermometer is plucked from between your lips, the white haired yakuza scrutinizing your room, cerulean eyes catching the pile of tissues you had failed to stuff properly in your trash bin, “how long have you had this, Princess?” 

You lay bedridden and pouting as you draw the covers over your face — you had not been feeling well this whole weekend, but you developed a fever last night. You thought it would be gone by the morning, “Just since this morning,” and he’s tugging the covers away, his brow wrinkled, and then you see it, bandages on his forehead, “when did you get hit on the head?” 

And he blink, fingers running through his hair, “This? It’s nothing,” and you raise an eyebrow, “if you must know, it’s just my punishment for taking you into the thick of things the other day,” 

Your brow wrinkles, “Who—“ 

He waves you off, “It’s not important — the important thing is that you get better — can’t have my future wife succumbing to the flu, now can I?” And you scoff. 

“I’m not your future wife,” you mumble, and you hear a small chuckle from him. And then your muscles begin to grow heavy, eyelids fluttering shut under the weight of exhaustion, and your skin feeling far too cold for your burning insides, “Gojo, I’m not—“ 

And you slip into darkness. 

You can feel the world around you move, the sounds of wind brushing against your skin, and the flicker of lights in your eyes. Your lips part, a desert inside your mouth with no oasis in sight, “where—“

A voice quietly shushes you, fingers raking through your hair gently, lulling you back to sleep. Was it your grandfather? No, he never coddled you like this. Not even he had his yakuza to look after. You were expected to care for yourself —- you couldn’t show weakness. 

Not as an heir — even if you were just a kid. 

And when you do wake for a moment, it’s with some prodding, a voice whispering for you to open your mouth at the press of a medicine cap to your lips, and your eyes flutter open to catch a glimpse of blue eyes — so you do, swallowing it with water. 

You fall into the arms of sleep again, only waking to your head slightly aching, and a distinct void in your stomach. You reach around blindly for your phone, and find that it’s still Sunday, nearly the evening. Your eyes adjust as your gaze spots the last glimmers of the sunset in the window. 

How long have you slept? Like four hours? You sighed, slumping back into bed, as you stretched. Your fingers pressed to your forehead, still a slight fever, but it was definitely lower. Maybe you could sleep for a bit longer, and you turn on your side only to find a familiar, not-so familiar sight. Your lips can’t help but curl a little. Again there is someone in your room, but instead as your eyes flutter open you see that Satoru has dozed off.

You hold back a chuckle, as you slowly get up, drawing a little closer. His head was against the wall, slightly tilted, soft breaths leaving his lips, arms crossed. He had a prescription medicine next to him along with a water bottle. Your fingers reach for the medicine, and you glance it over — seeing that it was prescribed earlier today for you. 

Your brows knit together, when did you—and then it comes back to you slowly — the lights, the sound of wind and cars — he drove you to a hospital. And his shoulder starts to slip 

And then you reach for him, trying to make sure he didn’t hurt himself. 

That’s when he grabs you — his eyes fly open, as he grabs you by the wrist, pulling you close, his hard topaz gaze cuts through you, until it slowly fills with recognition. His fingers digging into your wrist loosen ever so slightly, as he blinks. 

“Sorry about that, sweetheart,” but his fingers don’t leave your wrist, “are you feeling better?” 

“I am,” you admit, as his other hand reaches up to brush against your forehead and then neck, sending hest crawling up your skin for a different reason. 

“Looks like the medicine worked,” he sighs, leaning back, “guess I can scratch beating up that doctor off my list,” and you furrow your brow, “it was a joke, Princess,” 

“Why did you take me?” You asked and he tilted his head, “I mean you could have had me looked at here, so why did you—“ 

“As much as my father pays for these services, they don’t work weekends, usually — we do have an on-call physician, but,” he shrugs, as his thumb brushed back and forth against your wrist, right where your pulse was, “I didn’t want to wait,” 

And your eyes slide to the bandages around his head, “but you couldn’t get that checked out?” 

“Worried about me? I’m touched, Princess,” and your fingers reach for the bandages and brush against his locks, “hey, you—“ 

“It’s coming loose,” you lean over and slide your hands until you find where it’s coming undone and tie it tighter, fingers brushing against his soft locks — noting the undercut you hadn’t noticed before, “there,” 

“Thank you,” he murmurs, as your eyes meet his and your breath catches, your face an inch or two from his. And he looks different in the dark of the room, illuminated by the last vestiges of sun that were quickly fading into the night — softer. 

“Why did you take care of me?” And he blinks a moment, taken aback and he tilts his head, “someone else could have—“ 

“I wanted to,” he cuts you off gently, “why would I let someone else do it when I could? It was the least I could do,” and it was your turn to tilt your head, as he adds in a whisper, “I let you get hurt. I should have sent you home,” 

“If you had tried, I would have stayed anyway,” and he chuckles. 

“I know,” he murmurs, “and I know what it’s like to tough through things as if you’re invincible — as if nothing can touch you — and it’s only a matter of time until it does,” and your fingers brush against the bandages on his head, as you dare closer, less than a breath away. 

“Maybe I should make you take your own advice,” you whisper, and his lips quirk upwards in a smirk. 

“I’d love to see you try, Princess,” he adds with a grin, “you know I’d love to submit to you anyti—“ 

And you swallow the rest of his sentence with your lips, a chaste brush that leaves your entire body burning for more — a spark to kindling that you told yourself you wouldn’t start. But, your lips part his to see his soft gaze meeting your own, before finding your lips again, how could you not? 

“I’m going to get you sick,” you manage between kisses, lips meeting and parting, as he chuckles against you, a vibration sending a shiver that definitely wasn’t from your fever.

“You’re worth it, Princess,” but he kisses you one last time, noses brushing, before your stomach rumbles loudly in the relative silence of both of your soft pants. You flush, and he can’t hold back his laugh, as you smack his shoulder.  

“Shut up, I haven’t eaten since breakfast, thanks to someone,” and he’s still laughing as you try to smack him again, but he catches you by the wrist. 

“Don’t forget, I really like it when you punish me,” his lips press to your wrist, your breath catching for a moment before you hit him again on the chest regardless. And he laughs, leaning on his hand, “oh what will I do with you, sweetheart?” 

You scowl at him, rolling your eyes, “You can start by getting me dinner,” you grumble, and he repents, getting to his feet, “Satoru?” And he pauses, eyes flickering back, “thank you,” you manage, biting your lip all the whole, unable to meet his eyes or see the smile on his lips. 

“Anytime, Princess.” 

~~~~

You hadn’t seen Suguru or Satoru all week. 

Once a sought after rarity l, but now a foreboding concern. Satoru had been away on business — you didn’t care to know what, but you knew he’d come back only more clingy than ever. You chewed on your lip — especially after the kiss. 

Fuck. You kissed Satoru, you buried your face in your hands, what the fuck were you doing? Could you use the excuse that your fever had rendered you momentarily insane? No, Satoru would only crack a joke saying that he’s crazy for you too. 

What was your plan? You were only trying to bide your time for a year — not become further entangled 

You lay back on your bed, as you scroll through your phone — but Suguru was a different story. You heard from Satoru that he had returned. Yet now there was some random yakuza checking in each hour  — and even worse, keeping you confined to the compound. 

And a small part of you did worry for them as you tossed your phone aside — those fools may have death wishes but that didn’t mean you wished the same. 

You leave your room, sighing as you explore the compound. You had done your fair share of exploring, but you had never wandered into Suguru or Satoru’s quarters. You had been told by each of them where their rooms were, only for you to glare at them for providing you the implication. But now…maybe it was useful. 

You walked through the halls — seemed like most people were away at the moment. When Satoru had captured those people who had attacked you both, there was information learned about who was targeting you and of where that girl who was taken could possibly be. But it’s not like you were able to find that information out — unless you went looking yourself. 

Satoru and Suguru’s rooms were close to each other’s — but Satoru’s room was locked, as you tugged at the door to no avail. You glared at the handle as if it was the white haired idiot itself, before turning to Suguru’s door. 

You pressed your ear to the door, it was silent, not a single noise inside. You pull at the door and it opens. You step inside — the room is neat, a desk in the corner, along with a bed on the opposite side, but not much else. There were a few other things — a dresser with a few containers tucked beside it and a small bookcase against the wall near the desk lined with books on each shelf. 

It wasn’t what you expected — though you didn’t know what to expect. You stepped into the room, glancing around, as you approached the desk first. You rifle through the papers, finding nothing relevant — only papers from class and a few scattered notes that had nothing but addresses and initials scribbled. 

And then the door opens, you freeze, before you slowly turn to see Suguru, his clothes tattered, blood dripping from his arms and soaked through his white button up. His gaze is dark and heavy, until he finds your eyes, his brow wrinkled. 

“What are you doing?” no ‘sweetheart’ or ‘Princess’ — just a question. 

“I was looking—“ but you bite your lips, as you watch his shoulders slump, “what happened—“ 

And he draws closer, as you slowly take steps back, until he’s looming over you, his arm pressed above you, “Princess, you shouldn’t get involved in these things, unless you want to end up like this,” and the smell of death rolls off of him, the heaviness of his gaze could drag you down to the depths of hell — but you didn’t care. 

“Sit down,” and he blinks, before you’re pressing him onto the bed, “I’m going to get a first aid kit and some bandages,” 

“Sweetheart—“ but you’re already out of the room, returning with a first aid kit and bandages, “where did you—“ 

“Well after that first time Satoru and I got jumped by those people, I figured it would be good to stock up on things,” you pull out scissors and tape, and you dampen a washcloth you had stored in the kit with a water bottle you had grabbed. “Take off your shirt,” he hesitates, “getting shy?” 

Suguru’s lips curl, before he sighs, unbuttoning his shirt, “You know I rather you hurt me than take care of me,” and you scoff, as you busy yourself with preparing the materials to tend to him. 

“Well it looks like someone else already did that for you,” and your eyes meet with his bare chest, the red and black ink of his tattoos encroached onto his shoulders, but more than that — bruises bloomed on different parts of his body, scars from old wounds of various ages littered his skin, and dried and fresh scarlet clung to his skin from fresh cuts. 

You take the washcloth, slowly starting to run it over his body, the white cloth marred with his blood, he doesn’t flinch even as it cleans his cuts or wounds.  

“Why are you doing this?” And your eyes meet his, his amethyst eyes cut through you. 

“Because you’re hurt,” 

“Just because I’m hurt doesn’t mean you have to help,” you sigh, as you urge him to turn so you can clean his back next, the sight of his tattoo on his back unsurprising now as you continue to clean it. 

“Doesn’t mean you don’t have to either,” he gives a soft chuckle, “what’s your goal here sweetheart?” You urge him to turn again, as you begin to clean the blood from his arms. 

“Do I need to have a goal?” And he turns to face you, leaning even closer, as his black locks fall in his eyes. 

“Everyone has one — didn’t you have one for coming in here?” And your hesitation is all the answers he needs, “curious about what’s going on with those people after you, huh?” 

There wasn’t any use lying now, “Wouldn’t you be?” 

“I would be, but I wouldn’t get caught, now would I?” and you scoff, as his lips curl, “we have been tracking the group that we suspect has the heiress, and we have been interrogating the people that you and Satoru secured,” ‘secured’ — more like nearly murdered by the way Satoru acted. 

“And where were you?” 

He sighed, “Dealing with some loose ends — and some other business that my father had me deal with,” and he adds, “I had to make sure a message got out — so no one would ever attack you like that again,”

And why does your heart squeeze at the thought, “Why are you so willing to tell me?” And your hands begin to clean and wipe his palms. And you set the washcloth down, beginning to bandage some of the larger cuts and wounds, and his fingers intertwined with yours, as you glance up. 

“Because you deserve the truth,” he shrugs, “and even if I lie, you’ll figure it out, so why not tell you to begin with?” And he leans even closer, fingers skimming your cheek, “plus I don’t keep secrets from my future wife,” 

“I’m not marrying you,” but you don’t pull away, as he’s even closer now. 

“Well, you said never before — and I’ve worn you down to a ‘not’ — it’s only a matter of time,” and his words make you want you to pull away, to scoff at his words and leave, but you don’t. 

Why can’t you? 

“And I thought Satoru was the one full of himself—“ and his lips find yours, his kiss was more insistent, his fingers find your jaw, featherlight before it finds purchase on the back of your neck. You could taste the faint taste of blood, lingering on his lips, 

“And you also thought Satoru was a good kisser,” he smirks, as his lips ghost down your jaw, nose brushing against your cheek, as you pause — how did he— “well now you know what a good kisser is actually like,” 

Your eyebrows knit together, “Geto—” 

“Suguru,” he corrects you, he tilts his head, his thumb cupping your chin, and your lips find the other’s, his forehead pressed to yours. Then his phone rings, and the moment’s broken. He pulls away just as fast, as he turns to answer his phone, “Hello?” he listens, a man’s voice on the other end, “I understand, okay.” and the call ends, as he offers a smile to you, “I have to deal with some business, but I’ll be back later. And then it looks like I’ll be your escort while Satoru is away.” 

“What business—” but he’s brushing past you, going to his wardrobe to grab a fresh shirt, buttoning it swiftly, before pulling on another jacket, as he turns to glance at you over his shoulder. 

“You know better than to ask me that,”

“But you said you would be honest,” and he shrugs his shoulders, a smirk on his lips, as he heads out of the room. 

“I didn’t say when.” 

~~~~

“We have to tell her,” Satoru stood, hands in his pockets, leaning against the wall of the compound. Suguru clicks his lighter again, flicking it on and off — he had quit a few months ago when you had told him that you hated the smell. And he didn’t miss it, but he still carried the lighter — old habits die hard, “the pictures we got — they are getting better at tracking her without us noticing. And these other fires we’re being sent out to deal with — it’s leaving us with less time to protect her,”

“Do you have to?” Suguru asked, flicking his lighter closer, the silver outside glinting in the low light of the moon, “isn’t it safer for her to stay in the dark for now?” 

“Staying in the dark doesn’t mean she won’t put herself in danger one way or another without us knowing,” Satoru shrugs, “she said even if I had sent her home that day that those men were after her, she would have came after me,” 

Suguru gives a terse chuckle, “I don’t doubt that she would,” he sighs, gaze towards the inky darkness of the sky, dotted with faint stars that he couldn’t see but knew were there — just as these threats were, “if she found out that her grandfather was threatened too? There’s no way she would wait,” 

“So what do we do?” Satoru scratched the back of his head, “we could send her back home — she might be safer there than here,” 

“Her grandfather told us—“ 

“I know, but what choice do we have, Suguru?” he sighs, and Suguru can’t help but quirk his lips. 

“You know if we do this, we may have to fight her grandfather to stay engaged with her,” And Satoru smiles, shrugging. 

“I know, but we can handle it, can’t we?” Satoru leans back, “we’ll just have to fight him on it. Why? Are you afraid?”  

Suguru gives a short chuckle, “Since when have you known me to be afraid of anything?” And he turns his gaze towards the door, “so when should we tell her?” 

But they don’t notice that you’re pressed against the door, your fists clenched. And they were right about one thing — you wouldn’t wait. 

~~~~

CRACK! 

Fuck, your eyes burned as you tried to open them, the sharp pain in the back of your head radiating all over, as your eyelids refused to open. What happened? You tried to hold your head, only to have your wrists strain against something rough — rope? The fibers dig into your wrists as you try to stand, only to find them bound to something else. 

“Finally awake?” it was a woman’s voice — and your eyes still can’t quite open — fuck, this wasn’t part of your plan, “take your time, they said they wanted you in pristine condition so I can’t have you falling apart on me later on,” she scoffs, her footsteps receding away, and you could hear the quiet murmurs of other voices — men, by the baritone. 

Your eyes burned as you adjusted to opening them, still fighting the urge to flutter them shut under the pain. The dim light swung overhead, a warehouse from the bare floors and even barer walls and ceilings overhead, barely illuminated in the flickering exposed lightbulbs hanging over the middle of the room. 

“Where am I?” You choked out, voice wavering in a way that made you want to grit your teeth and chide yourself for the fear that seeped into your words. 

The quiet click of heels came closer, “Don’t recognize me? Well I suppose you never did see my face in person,” and you knit your brows together as she stepped closer, leaning in far too near for your comfort, “I should thank you for your efforts in trying to find out what happened to me. It made it far easier to kidnap you,” 

Her hazel eyes were even more startling in person. 

“The Akawaza heiress,” you stare at her — her hair had grown a little past her shoulders now, ends slightly curling at them, “I thought—“ 

“I was missing? I was,” her lips curled, running her sharp lacquered nails through her black locks, “but it was my choice,” the screech of chair legs scraping against the floor makes you flinch ever so slightly, as she sits in front of you, her legs crossed, “I’m being rude — how is your grandfather?” 

“Fuck off,” you spit, and she clicks her tongue. 

“And here I thought you had manners, but I suppose the city’s changed you, little princess?” she hums, leaning back, wood of the chair creaking as she did, “or maybe your boyfriends did,” you say nothing, scoffing, as she sighs, “or knowing your grandfather, you probably didn’t have any to begin with,” 

Rage fills your veins, lava bursting from them as the venom leaves your lips, “Don’t talk about my grandfather like that—” 

“Why shouldn’t I? You never cared for the yakuza before, right? Is your grandfather not included in that equation? Or maybe it was because he kept what he did behind closed doors, and never bothered to tell you the truth,” and you’re not fast enough to stop your brow from furrowing, and she latches onto it, “Oh he didn’t tell you, did he?” 

“You really love the sound of your own voice, don’t you?” you murmur, and she laughs at your remark, her nails clicking against the forearm of the chair — lacquer on wood that began to grate on your nerves, “can you get to the point of all this shit? Why the fuck am I here?” 

“Because your grandfather is picking and choosing who he favors — and so I decided to take his heart, and I’ll only give her back if he gives me what I want — ” and then you see the way her lips curl and her jaw is cut, and it occurs to you. 

Your grandfather had said he was a heartbreaker. 

“You’re his granddaughter,” and she smirks, her nails falling still. 

“Do you see the family resemblance?” she leans against her hand, elbow against the arm of her chair, “it would be nice to meet you — if I didn’t have to possibly kill you,” 

“So you want to be the heiress? I never wanted to be one in the first place—” 

“Do you think that matters?” she scoffs, “what matters is the choice your grandfather makes —  and he’s chosen you — with no regard for the other children he has had,” her gaze falls downward, “do you know what it is like to watch your mother vye for the approval of someone who never truly cared for her in the first place?” 

Your gaze falls downward, “I don’t know,” you admit, “but is all this worth this? What do you think he will even do for me?” 

“He’ll meet my demands, and each hour he doesn’t, he’ll get another finger of yours,” she pulls a knife out, the blade glinting in the dim light, as she rises to her feet, your body straining back as she draws close to you, running the flat of the blade down your cheek, “should I start with your left hand or right?” she pulls the blade back, and you smile, “what—” 

And you lean your head back and smash your head against her own. The crack of your skulls colliding rung in your ears, along with the knife clattering to the ground, as you felt warm droplets ran down your face, and she stumbles back, clutching at her forehead, scarlet staining her face and fingers, “It’s funny you think that I came to you without a plan — how do you think I found you?” 

“It wasn’t on her own,” and a hand on her shoulder, before she’s pinned to the floor. Satoru’s eyes slide to you, a smile on his lips, as she’s struggling, trying to look for her men, “looking for your goons? Suguru has taken care of them by now, unless he needs my help,” 

“Akari isn’t the only one who likes to hear herself talk,” Suguru runs his fingers through his hair, “Satoru, you haven’t even untied her,” his footsteps echoing as he approaches you, bending down to pick up Akari’s knife. 

“A little busy at the moment, Suguru,” Gojo has Akari pinned with one hand, “unless you’d like her to get away,” and Suguru shrugs, as he slips the knife under your restraints and cuts them off, “are you doing alright, sweetheart?” 

“I’m fine, just my head’s aching,” and Suguru pulls a cloth from his pocket, wiping the blood from your face, your eyes closing and nose wrinkling as he does, “did you call my grandfather?” 

“Yeah, I don’t have a death wish,” Satoru replies as he hauls Akari up and hands her off to his associate to take her. 

You get to shaky feet, “Hold on,” you walk over, grabbing Akari by the front of her blouse, silk wrinkling under your grasp, “fuck with me or my family again, and I won’t be so lenient,” you shove her off, and then you add, “but I’ll talk to my grandfather about some sort of possible arrangement for your mother,” 

And then you wave the yakuza off and they take her away — assuredly to Kyoto to be dealt with by her grandfather. 

“Are you really going to talk to your grandfather about her?” Suguru asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“It’s the least he could do since he caused me to be targeted,” you grumble, rubbing your wrists, as Satoru takes his suit coat off and places it around your shoulders, before a smirk pulls at your lips. 

Suguru tilts his head, smiling, “Well, how would he feel if he knew you got kidnapped on purpose?” And you shrug. 

“He doesn’t need to know that.” 

~~~

“I’m surprised you guys agreed to my plan,” you hiss as Satoru takes a damp cloth to clean the dried blood from your face, while Suguru is knelt, bandaging your ankles — their rough and bruised hands somehow still gentle, “I thought you would never let me wander into danger,” 

“Well, we knew we had to do something when we realized you were listening to us, didn’t we, Princess?” Satoru snorted, and you could hear the smile gracing his features — even with your eyes shut — “and this was the best way to ensure you weren’t hurt,” 

“Relatively,” Suguru adds, as he finishes bandaging one ankle, “did she do anything else to you?” 

And Satoru’s hand pauses as they both wait for your answer, and you shake your head, “No,” and Satoru pulls the washcloth away, your eyes fluttering open to meet two skeptical gazes, “really, I’m fine,” your lips curl after the two of them look away, Satoru turning to grab a bag of ice for your forehead, while Suguru busied himself with bandaging your other ankle, “is this threat the reason my grandfather sent me to Tokyo?” 

The timing had lined up — Akari had started the threats not a few months before — after she had reached legal age, the perfect age to contend for the position of successor to her grandfather. And by sending you here, your grandfather thought he was putting you out of immediate danger — but he didn’t know Akari would make her way to Tokyo. 

“More or less,” Satoru sighed, as you flinched when he pressed the ice pack to your head, the condensation from the bag already clinging and dripping down your face, “the geezer wanted to find the source of the threats against you—and by sending you here, to your potential fiancés—“ 

“I would be safe protected twofold by two of the biggest families—“ and you blink, pulling the ice pack away from your face, “the engagements — that’s why they were leaked — it was to protect me,” you mumble, “so that means—“ 

“You can go home if you want, Princess,” Suguru says, looking up at you, expression as inscrutable as it always was, “the engagements were only pretense,” 

“You both knew?” And Satoru sighs, scratching the back of his head, and why does it feel as if his nails are carving out a piece of your heart. 

“The old coot swore us to secrecy, we didn’t have—“ 

“But, everything, the two of you…the engagement—it’s over,” you say slowly, gaze falling downward. You should be happy, relieved, thrilled — you could go home, what you wanted to do from the start. You could get your own apartment or transfer to a different university—and leave this behind, a bad dream washed away by the events of a new day. So why? 

Why did it hurt? 

“Don’t tell me you’ll actually miss us, sweetheart?” Satoru teased, a force more than anything — bittersweet worded coated in a sugary sarcasm, “because I very well may propose here and now,” 

You almost scoff, but Suguru beats you to it. 

“A proposal now? Seems like finishing early isn’t what you just do in bed, Satoru,” Suguru scoffs, as Satoru shoots a glare over his sunglasses, “she’s only eager to get home now isn’t she? "If she isn’t so eager,” he adds, “then she would stop the one she wants from leaving her room, wouldn’t she?” 

And Suguru is slowly getting to his feet, while Satoru also turns to leave — and you don’t think—but you were sure that you truly hadn’t thought a single sane thought since you had arrived in Tokyo—

You grab at the fabric of both their shirts, fingers clutching at it, as your lips curled when they glanced back at you. 

“Who said either of you could leave?”

~~~

“You’re going to have to use your words,” you murmured, fingers ghosting Satoru’s jaw, a delightful shiver parting his lips as you smiled at him, sat spread at the edge of your bed, “what do you want?” You stepped closer, between his legs, daring even closer. 

“Sweetheart, you know what I—“ and a low groan leaves his throat as your fingers slide to the nape of his neck to tug at his snowy locks, “please—“ 

“I know you love this,” you murmur, leaning to press a kiss to his throat, smiling against his skin, “you said you wanted me to hurt you, so it looks like you’re getting your wish,” your eyes slide to the other, sat in a chair, “I know you like to watch, Suguru, so you must be enjoying yourself,” and you’re further unbuttoning Satoru’s shirt all the same — crisp white button up definitely creased and wrinkled as it fell open, tugged out from his slacks. 

Suguru’s fingers flexed against the grain of the wood of the armrests, his muscles taut, his lips a tight line that only matched the fabric of his slacks straining against his erection. The corner of his mouth twitches, and you smirk. 

“I didn’t hear an answer, Suguru,” and you’re placing another kiss on Satoru’s neck, a whine leaving his throat, while your eyes find Suguru’s amethyst gaze darkened to nearly black, his knuckles white against the wood, as you lean down to lick a stripe up Satoru’s neck, who bites his bottom lip. 

“I’d enjoy it even more if I could touch you, or me,” Suguru adds through gritted teeth, “Princess—“ 

And you click your tongue, “You had such patience when you were watching me sleep — so where’s that patience now?” Your fingers graze Satoru’s erection through his slacks, and his head is falling back, as Suguru shifts in his seat, not so subtly adjusting himself. 

You undo Satoru’s belt, unbuckling it with ease, as his cock slaps against his stomach, and you didn’t know it was possible for a dick to be pretty, but Satoru’s was — a deep flush settled over it, pearly beads of precum dripping from the ruby tip. And a distinct heat begins to throb between your thighs. 

“You can touch yourself,” you tell Suguru, his legs twitching to get up, “but you can’t cum until I tell you can,” you run a finger up Satoru’s cock, teasing the weeping tip, a groan leaving the snowy haired man’s lips, “strip, Suguru,” 

And he does, you hear the click of his belt, the sound of fabric rustling, as your fingers tease the slit of Satoru’s cock, gathering precum on your fingers, drawing a grunt from his lips. You can hear the distinct sound of Suguru spitting in his palm, his hand beginning to work at his own cock. 

“Both s’good for me,” you murmur, as you stroke Satoru’s cock in earnest, the quiet moans from both their mouths sending a ribbon of need to your already dripping cunt, “can’t wait to fuck you both, make you my toys,” and you’re pressing a kiss to Satoru’s tip, his pretty, pink lips parting, as his head rolls back again, “but you’d both like that wouldn’t you? Maybe I shouldn’t let either of you cum, make you beg me all night,” as your tongue traces his lovely vein up the side of his cock, “what do you think, Toru?” And your mouth finally closes around his dick, sucking hard that draws a hiss from his lips, fingers fisted in the sheets. 

And Suguru isn’t doing much better, the sounds of his hand squelching and the moans leaving his lips growing louder and louder. 

“Please, Princess, I’m close, I can’t—“ and you click your tongue, a pout on your lips, as you pull away your touch, “baby, I—“ 

“Can’t let either of you cum so fast,” your eyes slide to Suguru, his cheeks flushed a lovely pink that reaches even his ears, as his hand slows, his cock twitching in his fingers, “gotta make you earn it. It’s only right after all the shit you put me through right?” 

It’s a cycle, a cycle of you bringing them both to the edge of orgasm, only to tell them to stop. Their sweat slicked brows wrinkled, as you worked them up once again and again and again — you had lost track of how many times. 

“Please, please, sweetheart,” and you knew you could get Satoru to beg, but you didn’t think it would be this easy, and you let his dick brush against your throat, as you let him fuck your throat, hips jerking, “fuuuuck, I need to—” 

And you’re pulling your lips from his cock with a pop, glancing at Suguru whose black locks are beginning to come loose from their neat bun, more of a mess now than he had been fighting yakuza earlier, and all because of you. 

“Suguru? Wanna cum?” you ask, smirking as his gaze raises to meet yours, a desperate look that tells you everything you need to know, “be a good boy and tell me,” 

He swallows, adam’s apple bobbing, as pre drips down his knuckles, “fuck, Princess,” he’s shaking his head, “ I want to cum, please — I need—” 

And your lips curl, “cum for me,” you murmur before you’re wrapping your lips around Satoru again, his tip brushing against your throat, sucking hard, his fingers finding purchase in your hair. And he’s cumming hard, his hot release slides down your throat, nails digging into your scalp, nearly never ending — even as you pull away, his cum paints your face and lips, and drips onto your clothes. His cerulean eyes glazed as he looked down at you between his legs, a string of spit and cum connecting you to his cock. 

And Suguru was no better. He had cum hard all over his hand and the floor, his cock still somehow half hard, his body slumped back in the chair, as his chest heaved. His hair tie had long fallen away, his long black locks brushing against his shoulders. 

You lick your lips clean of Satoru’s cum, wiping the rest away with the back of your hand, “Made such a mess,” you tsk, as you get to your feet, slipping off your shorts and shirt, before leaning down to kiss Satoru, and he’s still sensitive by the way he jolts against your touch, before melting into it, his tongue parted your lips with ease. And fuck, you hoped he couldn’t see how wet you were — nearly dripping down your thighs at this point. 

And you’re pulling away, your thumb dragging down his lips, as his teeth try to catch the finger between them, but you’re too quick. You turn, a smile on your lips, you make your way over to Suguru. 

You’re wiping up the mess on the floor with your shirt before kneeling, “made such a mess, Sugu,” and he’s staring at you through half lidded eyes, his fingers brushing your cheek, “did I say you could touch me?” 

“You never said I couldn’t,” he murmurs, and god, his voice is far gone, raw and nearly guttural, as his fingers found purchase in your hair, “and I think I earned it after your little performance—“ and he hisses when you lean in, tip of your tongue teasing his slit and licking the dripping cum off his half hard cock, “fuck—“ 

“Not yet,” you smiled, as you started to lick his cock clean of his cum, “but maybe if you’re good,” he grunts as you sink is cock into your mouth, tongue swirling around his length, licking and sucking — and fuck, he was already twitching in your mouth. 

And then he’s easing you off his dick with a tug of your hair, and you’re glancing up at him, a question on the tip of your tongue, but he’s swallowing it with a kiss, as his hands slip down your body to haul you nearly into his lap. Calloused palms find their way to your hips, squeezing lightly, as he pulls away, cupping your chin with his thumb. 

“Suguru—” and you yelp as he picks you up with ease, placing you in Satoru’s lap whose hands wind their way around your waist, his fingers already beginning to tease your hardened buds through your bra, a gasp leaving your lips, as Suguru placed his on your neck with a smirk as he murmurs:

 “Let me show you how good we can be, sweetheart.” 

~~~~

“Tell us what you want, princess,” Satoru murmured in your ear, his warm breath doing nothing to help the needy heat between your thighs, the one that Suguru was knelt between, his large palms spreading you before him, “is she as wet as I think, Suguru?” 

And Suguru catches your gaze, a wicked smile on his lips as he replies, “Wetter, she’s a mess, aren’t you?” you bite your lip to stop a whimper from leaving your lips as his fingers graze the growing wet patch on your panties. And your squirming only makes Satoru grunt, his erection pressed against you, the friction doing little to help either of you. 

“Fuckers,” and Satoru clicks his tongue, a smile on his lips as he turns your head. 

“Think I have a better use for that mouth of yours, sweetheart,” and his lips find yours, right as Suguru toys with the elastic of your panties, snapping it against your skin, Satoru swallows the small noise that escapes your lips, his tongue slipping into your mouth as it does. 

And god, you already can’t even think straight. 

Satoru’s fingers are pushing up your bra, teasing your nipples, as Suguru pressing a kiss to your dripping cunt through your soaked underwear. 

“So pretty,” Suguru murmurs, and Satoru’s lips part from yours, gaze darkening as he drags his thumb down your kiss ruined lips, and he tugs your drenched panties down, “and your cunt is even prettier, isn’t it princess?” 

And you were — your gorgeous pussy was glossy with your pre, dripping all over his fingers when he parts your messy folds, “Bet she’s even tighter, isn’t she?” Satoru murmurs, as his dick twitches against your ass, “

You whine as his words warm your aching pussy, your eyes flickering downwards, as Suguru’s lips graze your inner thigh, and you already know Satoru’s pouting. 

“You’re taking your goddamn time, Suguru, when do I get my chance?” He grumbles, nose brushing against your neck, as you can’t help but chuckle. 

“You got your turn, and now it’s time for you to watch,” and your giggle turns to a soft gasp when his lips press a kiss to your clit, “and sweetheart, can’t wait to see how you’ll punish me for this later — because I’m not stopping until you beg me to,”

Your lips part with a reply, but he pulls a moan from your lips instead as his tongue drags up the length of your weeping entrance. God, fuck, how did you taste this good? His tongue flicked against your puffy clit, drawing lazy circles, your slick already drenching his chin and lips. 

“So fucking good, baby, s’good f’me,” and your fingers are threading their way into his dark locks, pulling him even closer, his lips closing around your clit to suck, “could live in this pretty cunt,” he grunts, the tip of his tongue teasing your entrance. 

Your head falls against Satoru’s shoulders, a groan fell from his lips as his cock dragged against your ass, your slick drenching his thighs and cock alike, “can’t wait to sink my cock into you, fuck,” Satoru murmurs, the wet squelch of your cunt rang in his ears, and he could imagine how wet and warm you’d be once he sunk into you, inch by inch. 

And he couldn’t wait — he needed to do something. 

Satoru’s fingers found their way down your body, tweaking your nipple before one large palm dragged slowly down your front, until he found your clit right above Suguru’s face. 

“Toru,” you gasp, as his fingers pinch your clit and Suguru glares, pulling his lips away for a moment, only to sink a finger back in insteas, drawing a moan from your lips, “Sugu—fuck—“ 

And it’s too much, one more touch and you’re cumming, body falling back into Satoru, as Suguru fucks you through your orgasm. Your release runs down their fingers, as Satoru lifts his hand a moment to lick his fingers clean. 

God, you’re too pretty for your own good, Satoru’s eyes drag over you — your kiss ruined lips, skin shiny from your sweat, and the way your eyes were lost in an endless pool of lust. 

“Suguru was right, you’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted,” Satoru grin, gently turning your head, and you’re panting, nose wrinkling ever so slightly at his words, and he tuts, “don’t believe me? Well I can fix that,” and his lips find yours again, letting you taste yourself, swallowing your moans, as Suguru continued to finger fuck you. 

Suguru’s finger stretches you open, fluttering, knuckle deep, as your precum drips down his fingers. 

“Remember who’s fucking this cunt, sweetheart,” and Suguru is, another finger parting your needy folds, and between Satoru rubbing your clit and Suguru’s fingers curling to find that one spot, drags against your insides, “fuck, how are we going to fit, Satoru? She’s still so tight,” Suguru grunts. 

You pull your lips from Satoru’s, a whine leaving your lips, “More, please, I need—“ and a third finger joins the other two — but it’s not Suguru’s. 

“Fuck, you’re so fucking soft,” Satoru groans, pressing soft kisses to your skin, only serving to make you keen at their touch, and your walls flutter around their fingers. 

“Fuck, we’re trying to fuck her open and she just keeps getting tighter,” Suguru grunts, while Satoru’s lips find your earlobe, sucking, just as he adds another finger, a moan escaping your lips again. 

Suguru’s fingers fuck at a steady pace, fucking deeper and deeper, while Satoru’s are faster, pistoning in and out while dragging against your walls — and it’s not long until they are working you up to a second orgasm, it’s too fucking good — and they both find that spot in you that has you seeing stars. 

“I’m g’nna—” and Satoru finds your lips in a sloppy kiss, saliva slipping from the corner of your mouth. And you cum, even harder, your swollen folds clamping down on their fingers as they continue to fuck you unendingly through your orgasm. Your lips pull away, only to moan their names, again and again, until they finally slow down. 

“Good girl,” Suguru murmurs, pressing sweet kisses to your thighs, while you come down from your high, walls flutter around nothing at the praise, while Satoru nips at your neck right above your racing pulse. And your eyes find Suguru lazily palming his weeping erection, as you lift your bare foot to rub against it, making him hiss, while you rub against Satoru teasingly. 

“Don’t forget who’s in control,” you kiss Satoru again, before biting his bottom lip, and he’s melting into your touch, “and, you were good,” your foot rubs against Suguru’s cock again, drawing another pretty groan from his lips, “but now it’s time to be obedient.” 

And they are — as you have Satoru sit back against the pillow lined headboard, because if it was anything you knew now — Satoru loved to be controlled, while Suguru liked the illusion of control, even if he didn’t have even a bit of it. So you have Suguru kneeling behind you, as you climb into Satoru’s lap, a small groan leaving his lips as your cunt grazes his hard cock. 

“Such a good boy, aren’t you, Toru?” your fingers run through his hair — and god, his undercut was so fucking hot, as your fingers found his cock, letting the tip tease your soaked folds, as you line yourself up, “tell me what you want,” 

“Fuck, princess, y’know what I want,” and a whine leaves his throat when you let his tip sink into you, only to pull out. 

“Come on, nothing else to say? You always love running that mouth, don’t you? You wanted this, wanted me to ruin you, didn’t you? Well here we are,” you hum, as you press a teasing kiss to the corner of his mouth, “beg me,” 

And his dick twitches, painfully hard, and the words spill from his lips, “Please, please, sweetheart, use me, use my cock as a toy, want you to fuck me so bad, make me yours—” and you’re sinking onto his cock, his length parting your folds, as moans fall from both of your lips. And he bottoms out, your hips meeting his as you do, and you can feel every vein, every ridge, every inch notched inside your walls. 

“Toru, fuck, s’good, s’big,” it feels too fucking good, and he’s so long — god, he was brushing against places you never even dreamed of reaching. And your pussy clenched at the thought of how deep he would go when he would start thrusting. 

“Sure you have space for me, Princess?” Suguru leans back over to press kisses all over your face, before finding your lips in a heated kiss, “might be too tight of a fit,” his nose brushing against your cheek. 

“I’ll make you fit,” you murmur against his lips, your hands against Satoru’s chest, as you shift to cup his chin, “get behind me, Sugu,” 

Suguru smirks, slipping behind you, pressing himself against your back, dragging his cock teasingly against you, “So needy — you’re worse than Satoru,” and Satoru makes a noise of protest, but your walls flutter, making his back arch, “want me inside you, sweetheart?” And his tip teases at your entrance, brushing against Satoru’s cock, causing all three of you to moan, “tell me how much you want us to fuck you, how much you want both of us inside you,” 

“Fucker, I swear to god,” you turn your head, your glare undercut by the desperation on your face, “just fuck me— 

And Suguru sinks into you, your head falling back against him, as both of their cocks stretch your cunt out. You were so fucking full. And the way your walls clenched around them was nearly enough to make them cum. Their groans come in unison. 

“Fuck, Princess, you don’t have to break our dicks off — we’ll fuck you again,” Suguru grunts, his rough palms sliding to your hips to squeeze them. 

“S’good, sweetheart, so fucking right for us,” and you can’t think straight with the two of them inside of you, and you’re moaning. 

“Please, move—“ and they oblige, beginning to fuck you. You moved against Satoru, riding him as best you can, while Suguru fucked you from behind, his balls slapping against your ass. 

Suguru drives into you at a steady pace, causing you to rock against Satoru, your hips pressed against his, as they both drive deeper and deeper into your wet cunt. 

“S’good, so pretty,” Suguru presses sweet kisses to your neck, while Satoru’s eyes flutter open to meet yours, “I’m close, Satoru—“ 

“Me too,” Satoru manages, and his hips begin to meet your thrusts, “you gonna cum for us princess?” And he finds your gaze, the fucked out expression enough to nearly make him cum right there. 

A whine leaves your lips, as they continue to fuck you, and you know you’re so close. And then they find that spot in you again, and you’re falling apart, lips parted in a moan, both their names on your lips. You clamp down on them, toes curling as you cum, and neither of them can last. Their hips stutter as they give sloppy thrusts, until they both cum, 

They groan your name as they spurt their thick cum inside, notching themselves as deep as they could, continuing to fuck their cum inside you with messy thrusts. 

A whimper escapes your lips between pants, as your arms and legs shake from your position, utterly fucked out. You three stay like that for a moment, both of their sweet nothings they murmur to you falling on deaf ears.

And then finally they are shifting you onto the bed, pressing soft kisses to your face and neck, as your eyes flutter shut. There’s shifting on the bed, as one of them leaves for a moment, and you make a noise, only to be reassured that he’ll be right back. 

Your eyes finally flutter open to find Satoru and Suguru cleaning you up with a wet washcloth, and your gaze finds both of their own. Your lips curl at the sight of them, their gentle gaze enough to make your heart ache. 

“Come back,” you whine, and they both chuckle, as they begin to finish drying you off, before tossing the washcloth into the wastebasket, and crawling back beside you. They help you pull a shirt on, before settling in. 

“So needy,” Satoru murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead, even as he buries his face in your chest, his warm breath tickling you as you run your fingers softly through his white locks. And Suguru presses himself to your back, pressing a soft kiss to your neck, his arm around your waist, and yours resting on top of his. 

“What will we do with her?” Suguru mutters, and you can hear the smirk in his tone. 

“Shut up,” you mumble, your eyes beginning to feel heavy, as you give into the warmth that enveloped you from their bodies, as it lulled you to sleep. And your lips curled into a smile, a smile that had you wondering right before you slipped into sleep—

When was it that you fell for them? 

~~~~

You couldn’t do this. Not to them. 

That’s what you had decided come morning — waking up between entangled limbs and soft breaths against your skin — how could you? You felt Satoru shift closer to you, as you leaned into his touch, running your fingers through Suguru’s black locks. You were addicted to their touch only after one night, and now you had to spend the rest of your life without it. 

It was the only way. 

This whole thing was ridiculous to begin with — you never cared to be involved in the yakuza to begin with. You wanted a normal life — or at least as normal of a life you could have with who your grandfather was. You had never expected to end up wrapped up in all of this — and in both of them. 

But you didn’t know if you could choose between them — and you knew, you had to. It wasn’t fair to either of them — not when they had asked you to choose last night and they had indulged you in both of them. And now, you didn’t want to let either of them go. 

So you had to let both of them go. 

You shifted slowly to sit up, Your fingers traced Satoru’s cheek lightly, as you toyed with a strand of Suguru’s hair. They both still stayed fast asleep, quiet snores filling the silence of the early morning, deep in the embrace of sleep after the events of last night and the last few weeks. You didn’t want to be someone like your grandfather — you didn’t know what you wanted and that was enough of an answer wasn’t it?

The two shift in their sleep, and your body grows heavy, your back still aching from last night, as you lie back down beside them, running your fingers over both of their arms. 

Even if you had your answer, you didn’t have to face it for another few hours. And their bodies shifted, Satoru burying his face in the nape of your neck, while you rested against Suguru’s chest. This was enough — enough to last you a lifetime, wasn’t it? Your eyes fluttered shut, sinking slowly back to sleep. You had told your grandfather you’d break their hearts — 

—but you didn’t know you would be breaking yours as well. 

~~~

“What do you mean she’s gone?” Satoru narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms, as Suguru stepped aside to show the empty room you had left behind — a bare husk with nothing left behind, not even a note. 

It had been a day. 

When Satoru had woken up beside you, he could have sworn he was still dreaming, even as he grazed your skin gently with the back of his knuckles, he still couldn’t quite believe it. And when he spotted Suguru pressing kisses to your cheek, he knew it was real. 

“How long have you been awake?” Satoru raised an eyebrow, “it’s not fair to have your fun while we were asleep,” 

And Suguru rolled his eyes, as he rubbed the back of his knuckles gently against her cheek, “I just woke up, and all I did was kiss her, you idiot,” 

“Not fair, that means I have to kiss her too,” Satoru murmurs, pressing gentle kisses to your forehead and cheek, and one even to your nose. Your nose wrinkles in your sleep, and Satoru’s lips quirk upwards, “she’s so exhausted from last night still,” 

“She is,” Suguru hums, as he tilts his head, “what are we going to do about last night?” 

Satoru pauses a moment to consider, “Well, what is there to discuss? She chose us both, didn’t she?” Satoru leaned close to you, to press a kiss to your head. 

“She did,” Suguru props himself up with his elbow on his side, “I thought you weren’t one to share,” 

And Satoru shrugged — he wasn’t one to share, he wanted what was his to be his alone, but with you — the more people to protect you, the better, “If it’s what makes her happy, I don’t mind,” and he adds, “and I don’t mind if it’s you that I’m sharing with,” 

Suguru raises an eyebrow, a chuckle on his lips, “Is that so? Well, good,” as he runs a finger through your hair, “because I feel the same.” 

But Satoru supposed you didn’t. 

“When did she—“ 

“My father told me she contacted her grandfather this morning, and let them know she was leaving — and her single request was to send us away on business so we wouldn’t be able to stop her,” and Satoru gives a bitter chuckle. 

“So that’s it?” Satoru crosses his arms, “why did she—“ and he cuts himself off, “have you tried to call—“ 

“I’m blocked, I assume you are too,” Suguru shook his head, a silence settling over the two of them that Satoru chose to break. 

“Do we go after her?” And Suguru pauses, his brow wrinkling a moment, before he sighs, shaking his head. 

“If she comes back, it has to be her choice,” Suguru slid his hands into his pockets, “otherwise, we’re back to square one,” and he adds, “and I don’t think I can go back after last night.” 

Suguru steps away, heading back down the hallway, and Satoru follows. 

No, Satoru thinks, sparing one glance at the empty room, before pulling the door shut, neither could he. 

~~~

“Why did you come back?” You set another box down, wiping the sweat from your brow, your grandfather simply watching as you brought your things back into your room. 

“What a warm welcome,” you scoff, as you head back out to pick up another — the other staff had offered to help, but you had waved them off, lifting another box, your back still aching — and now you were starting to regret it. But you knew if you didn’t do something to distract yourself — your phone taunting you on the top of your desk — you’d do something you’d regret. 

And you’d already filled your quota for the next six months at least. 

“Don’t get me wrong, kid,” the geezer sighed, as he watched you bring the last of the boxes in, “I’m glad you’re back and the matters are all settled — but,” he tilts his head, “you seem more miserable than before,” 

“I’m just tired,” you reply, but his furrowed brow says he’s unconvinced, as you grab a box cutter and begin to open up the boxes, beginning to sort through your things, “and still trying to wrap my head around the fact you lied to me,” 

And he sighs, “this isn’t about me right now — it’s about you—“ 

“How convenient,” you mutter under your breath. 

“You’re in love, aren’t you?” And you can’t help but freeze for a moment, until you force yourself to continue unpacking, pulling out some of your clothes from the box, “which one is it?” 

The question stabs between your ribs like a well thrust sword between the ribs, finding the center of the problem — along with your heart. 

“Gramps—” 

“So it’s both of them?” and you whirl on him, your eyes narrowing, and he chuckles, holding up his hand, “I didn’t spy — I just took a guess,” he sighed, as he pulled out your desk chair and took a seat in it, “and it looks like I was right,” 

You swallow, your eyes falling to the floor, “I didn’t cheat, if that’s what—” 

He laughs, “I know you aren’t like me, little one,” he leans back in the chair, hands folded in his lap, “you aren’t one to lie — because I know there’s more you hate than liars,” and his gaze grows a little sadder, “And I’m sorry I had to become one of them,” 

You grit your teeth, “I’m not mad at you — I’m just—” you choose your words carefully — because you’re angry, you were upset — upset that he felt as if he couldn’t trust you, “wondering why you didn’t tell me the truth,” 

He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck, “My past isn’t something I’m proud of, and I wanted to deal with it without involving you,” he sighed, “after everything with our family — I didn’t want to give you another reason to distance yourself from me,” 

“Lying to me isn’t a better option than that,” he rubs the back of his head, “you have to make it right for Akari and her mother — as well as if you have any other kids—I don’t need to know,” you add, when he opens his mouth, “it isn’t fair to them,” and it would be no fairer to not choose between Satoru and Suguru. 

“You’re right,” he raises a brow, “is that the problem? You can’t choose between the two of them, eh?” and your gaze refuses to meet his, “have you talked to them about it?” and your silence serves as an answer, “then I think you should take your own advice and talk to them about it,” 

“What will that do?” you murmur, “they still will want me to choose—” 

“Do you know that for a fact?” he crosses his arms, “I think you owe it to them and to yourself to talk to them, and to your grandfather who can’t stand to see you this miserable at home,” 

“Do you think it will change anything?” and he shrugs. 

“Maybe it will or maybe it won’t,” he tilts his head, as he pulls out his phone to call you a car, “but if it’s a chance for you to be happy, isn’t it worth taking?” 

~~~~

“I want to marry you both,” 

And again, your statement is met with confused stares, as you had all but pulled up to their compound and entered to find them seated together discussing business in a side room — and their stares were still anything but average — but to you now, they meant so much more. 

“Not marry you right now, but maybe eventually,” adrenaline was surely pumping through your system, right? That’s probably why your hands were shaking and your mouth was dry, but even so you knew you needed to say it before they spoke, “I’m sorry for leaving the way I did. I told myself after we first met I wouldn’t be a coward, but I was when I ran away, and I don’t have any excuse,” you swallowed, “but I know what I want — and I want both of you, as selfish as that feels,” guilt crawled up your throat at the statement of that sentence, as if begging you to swallow the words that spilled from your lips back up, “and I don’t know how either of you feel — but if we were to do this, I would want us to be honest and—” 

And the screech of their chairs takes you aback, and you felt your cheeks burn, was this it? 

But instead of brushing past you, they stand in front of you, one of them tilting your head upwards to meet their gazes. 

“Took you long enough, sweetheart,” Satoru’s lips curled, his hand cupping your cheek, “I know we said we wanted you to hurt us, but not like that,”

“Sent us away just to ghost us,” Suguru clicked his tongue, his fingers still under your chin, “I’ll have to plant a tracker on you again,” 

You shake your head, “Wait, what? Are you both okay—” 

“We did say we’d kill the other for your hand, but,” Suguru presses a kiss to your forehead, “But now we realize the more eyes watching you, the better, and,” he shrugs, “we don’t mind sharing if it’s just with the other,” 

“And I know you’ll prefer me sooner or later,” Satoru adds, earning a glare from Suguru, as you only chuckle, “Suguru is always so grumpy—ow!” Suguru smacks on the back of the head, as the black haired yakuza wraps his arms around you, pressing your back to his front. 

“And you are always too busy running your mouth,” Suguru replies, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “sure you can handle both of us in your life?” and you pull Satoru close too, letting his lips brush yours, before turning and pressing a kiss to Suguru. 

“Shouldn’t you be asking yourselves that?” you say, as the two of them wrap an arm around you, “I am supposed to ruin your lives after all.” 

✧ a/n: so this has been a longtime coming. i was supposed to be working on prof geto (5) + my nanami celebration fic but this took over my life and wouldn't let go until i finished. so i hope you guys enjoy!! and this is my reminder why i don't write multi partner scenes like this often because its....difficult. thank you to @gaylatteart for reading and putting up with me <333

✧ taglist: @midmourn, @whore-for-hawks, @ekaterinatepes, @satoryaa, @mandysfanfics, @sodoney, @sukunasfavoritehole, @kazbrkker, @satorugirlie, @itsbokutosjuicyass, @santos4, @levanadragoneel, @talkativetranscendant, @abiiebibie, @simply-a-s1mp, @jolynelovesrain, @deegausserr, @xxemmarldxx, @biancaness, @satoniko, @ackermanbby, @rintoriss, @kentocalls, @marionettte, @bear-likes-mushrooms, @forest-hashira, @catsgomurp, @k1t0u, @rat-loves, @forest-fruits-jam, @wishingforanother, @roseified, @spider-fan72, @caelestine-the-caelicatto, @gojolvrr34, @chosobun, @chuuyasboots, @nanamis-baker, @hanxyy,

#sab [mlist] #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo smut #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto smut #geto suguru smut #gojo satoru smut #stsg x reader #satosugu x reader #satoru gojo x you #suguru geto x you #jjk x reader #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #geto fanfiction #gojo fanfiction

[burst-of-iridescent]

zuko and katara’s narrative symmetry drives me insane every time i think about it, actually. you rise with the moon, i rise with the sun; her power waning as his grows, and vice versa. zuko becoming disillusioned with the fire nation as katara learns the truth about the evil that exists within the other nations. how they both orbit around the avatar, the emblem of all their hopes; katara pulling aang forward to his destiny while zuko pursues on the other end, driving him onwards. the way their parallel lines intersect at the end of every season before diverging once more, each one only able to rise when the other falls. circling one another, so close yet so far, until they finally come together in the agni kai, two halves becoming whole at the crux of their individual arcs and their journey together — balance forged in sacrifice, an eternal push and pull finally brought to stillness. and all of this beautifully personifying the show’s most fundamental themes in the process. how the fuck were they not canon.

#zutara #like i know why they weren't canon but HOW #i'm literally incapable of being normal about this

[headkiss]

I LOVE the idea of protective Hotch constantly having an eye out for younger bau!agent who’s literally sunshine personified and the complete opposite of him!! Do u think u could write something along the lines of that—maybe him protecting her from something or just their dynamic?

i also love protective hotch!!! tysm for the request i hope u like it baby :D | 1k of fluff, tw for a small burn!

You’d been surprised when you got a job at the BAU. You didn’t have that much faith in yourself at first. Not to say you don’t believe in your skills, but it’s a widely known part of the bureau. A lot of people wanted the job.

And then, there’s Agent Hotchner, unit chief and intimidating though you’re sure he doesn’t mean to be. You were insanely nervous at the beginning.

That was before you started, before the team welcomed you as the new media liaison after Agent Jareau became a profiler. You met Garcia and her collection of fun high heels, Reid and his never ending supply of facts, and you sort of fit right in.

Hotch became much less intimidating. A kind man who cares so deeply for his team that you couldn’t help but like him the way you do. Not to mention the dynamic that built between the two of you.

The small things he does for you that are impossible to ignore. A hand covering the edge of your desk to protect your head when you were searching underneath it for a dropped paper clip, the way he physically places himself between you and danger if he ever gets the chance.

He’s always there, protecting you in ways both big and little, and you enjoy it more than you should.

It’s even brighter on nights like tonight. Drinks and snacks at Penelope’s after a tough case. Nights when you get to call him Aaron instead of Hotch, when he smiles and laughs freely without restraint.

The beep of the oven cuts off yours and Garcia’s conversation, and when she shifts to take care of it, you stop her, “I got it! You’re already hosting, just relax a little.”

“Thank you,” she smiles, squeezing your arm as you walk by.

The smell of food in the oven hits your nose as you walk into the kitchen, humming along to whatever song spills through the speakers.

You pull the oven open, reaching in without thinking and touching the pan with your bare hand. You drop it quickly, metal clanking as it falls back onto the rack in the oven.

“Shit!” You say it loudly, and then, even louder, addressing the team in the next room, “I’m okay!”

They all laugh a little at your reassurance, and then, like they know he wouldn’t let anyone else check on you before him, pretty much every set of eyes in the room lands on Hotch.

He shakes his head and heads to the kitchen, because he would’ve gone either way.

“You okay?” He asks, finding you with an oven mitt on your non-burnt hand, reaching into the oven, and your burnt hand shaking by your side.

“Oh!” You set the pan of nachos on top of the stove and slip off the mitt, turning off the oven and looking at Hotch. “I forgot oven mitts were a thing for a second there. Burnt my hand, I think.”

He’s on you in a second, his hands gently grasping your injured arm, pushing back your sleeve and guiding you over to the sink. His hold is light, never bruising even though you know he has the strength to do so.

It’s the kiss of sunlight on skin.

Aaron turns on the sink, places his fingers under the water to make sure the temperature’s okay before guiding your hand under the stream.

“You still took out the nachos first?” He asks, even when he knows that’s what you’d do, because of course you’re worrying about everyone else before yourself.

“I didn’t want them to burn.”

You’re trying to be brave, though your hand hurts so much there are tears misting your eyes. You’re bouncing on your feet a little to try and deal with the pain.

“How bad does it hurt?” Hotch checks.

Aaron’s felt this sort of protectiveness over you ever since you started. A little younger than him, this ball of light that’s come bursting into his life. You’re always the positive one, even in the darkest situations and he can’t help but want to shield you to keep it that way.

There’s this thing in his chest that tugs and tugs when you’re around, that makes him stand next to you in any room, in front of you in darkness.

“It’s okay,” you say, though your voice cracks a little. “I’m sure you’ve seen much worse, Hotch.”

“Aaron,” he reminds you gently, “and you don’t have to pretend. It’s alright if it hurts, I just wanna help.”

The sink running mingles with the music coming from the next room, the background noise to your moment with him.

“You could bring the nachos out? I told Garcia I would, but we see how that turned out.”

“Okay, I'll bring them out.”

“Don’t forget oven mitts!”

He huffs with a smile, somehow always surprised with how easily you can turn something around. A smile on your face even with tears shining in your eyes and a hand that’s surely stinging.

Aaron carries the tray of nachos and drops them off, then turns to Penelope, “you have a first aid kit?”

“Oh my gosh! Yeah, bathroom cabinet, I can grab it.”

“It’s alright, Garcia. I’ll get it.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Don’t worry. Nothing major, I’m taking care of it.”

He grabs the first aid kit and heads back to the kitchen where you’re still holding your hand under the stream of water.

“Okay,” Aaron sets the kit down on the counter, opening it and then turning off the tap. “Let me see, honey.”

The word melts into you, sticky sweet, and you hold your hand towards him, palm up.

He starts by drying your hand with a piece of paper towel, pressing your skin lightly. His other hand is under yours, his palm against the back of your hand a painkiller in itself.

You hiss when he hits a sensitive spot, and he’s quick to apologize, his voice low and quiet. “Sorry. I’m sorry. Almost done.”

“It’s okay, Aaron. It's not your fault I thought I was heat-proof.”

“You’re cute.”

A smile spreads over your face, your head tilted down to stare and his hands around yours. You watch him spread some Polysporin over your burn, his fingertips featherlight over your skin, soft apologies leaving him every time you flinch a little.

By the time he’s done, the first aid kit shut on the counter, you’ve both forgotten about the rest of the team in the next room. Aaron’s happy to bask in your sunshine.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x bau!reader #aaron hotchner imagines #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner blurbs #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner request #aaron hotchner requests #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch fluff #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds hotch #criminal minds imagine #hotch criminal minds #agent hotchner #hotch x reader #hotch x you

[moltengoldveins]

ok but I have Thoughts about the way Minecraft usernames translate to actual names, both irl and in fanfic. They’re definitely ‘obsessed with structure and grumpy at inconsistency flavor autism’ thoughts but still. I find it weird how we cut and paste the media we’re given to fit what we view as functional worldbuilding, and how that gets screwy when translating online names.

like, you’re working with several categories here. The person’s actual real name, their irl nickname, their gamer tag, a name possibly contained by or possibly the entirety of that gamer tag, and any extra pieces or symbols in the gamer tag. And you have the weird situation where those categories might not easily translate to a ‘First Name Last Name’ structure. For an example, we’ve got Phil Watson, who’s gamer tag is ‘Ph1LzA,’ and is called Philza Minecraft or Philza. The ‘Minecraft last name’ is a…. Bit? A joke? A reference to a bit of lore? It’s unclear. The ‘Za’ bit was put there for flair and is now an integral part of his name. Sometimes it’s his last name. Sometimes his real last name is chucked in there. the 1 in his actual username is literally never referenced in nicknames or fic it’s like it’s not even there. But that’s a simple one. What about Tubbo_? because we call him Tubbo Underscore. Like. We say the ‘_’ aloud. Why do we do that. What has possessed us to make that decision? What about FitMC? I’ve usually heard it said ‘Fit Emsee.’ Why say that, and not say ‘Minecraft? That’s not even really a last name, it’s just like…. His full first name. Fit is used more like a shortened nickname. BadBoyHalo. Like. ‘Bad boy’ is a slang term, not a name. It would make the most sense to call him Halo, that’s the distinct noun in the name, the term the ‘bad boy’ bit is referring to. Like ‘GoodTimesWithScar’ but noooo. Bad. Halo is usually a last name, if it’s there at all. Skeppy on the other hand is… just his name. No last name ever. Technoblade is also weird. Technoblade is his full name. We call him that. We ALSO call him ‘Techno,’ and use Blade as a last name. We also use Blade as a title. What the heck. GeminiTay. We call her Gem. We use Tay as a last name sometimes. Her name is a Zodiac constellation. Literally nowhere I’m have I seen that affect her naming conventions. IJevin. We just… remove the I. For everything. This wouldn’t bother me except we don’t do it with everyone and I’m starting to get annoyed by the inconsistency. GoodTimesWithScar. Ok. This one also bugs me. Like, most fics call him Scar Goodtimes when they need a name. I’m not gonna dig into it but that’s…. Why? Why that? Grian never gets a last name. Ranboo sometimes gets chopped into Ran and Boo but usually he’s an Underscore or he’s last nameless. Wilbur Soot functions wonderfully (until the get involved shhhh) but it’s too close to his real name it gets very confusing.

anyway, all of this sucks, I hate it all, we’re a terrible fandom /hj

all that nonsense aside, yknow who has a functional Firstname Lastname username? It’s even got a space, and proper capitals: Mumbo Jumbo. That’s who. Look at that. It’s perfect. Everyone should be more like Mumbo Jumbo. Thank you and good night.

.

Edit: I know about Ranboo Beloved and Grian Dreamslayer and the various other characters whose names I didn’t mention perfectly in this post. This was no piece of journalism, this was an old man shouts at cloud meme personified. I was very overstimulated and this was what happened to catch my autistic ire. I’m not upset, just figured I’d clarify, a lot of people seem distressed at my not mentioning Beloved. Hope y’all are having a lovely day 💜

#molten rambles #mcyt #Dsmp #qsmp #hermitcraft #mumbo jumbolio #Weird rant

[chrisevansonly]

𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫 | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜

ఌsmau

ఌ charles leclerc x female reader

ఌ apparently being younger than your F1 boyfriend is getting under the skin of some…

ఌ i just thought of this idea and wanted to get it out, i hope you all enjoy<3

yninstagram

liked by carla.brocker, F1gossip, charles_leclerc and 216,000 others

ciao italia 🇮🇹🩷

see 32,000 comments

username okay so cute!

username isnt she leclerc’s rumoured gf?

>username yeah and she’s 19….

username she’s younger than kika💀

carla.brocker the prettiest angel🩷

>yninstagram love and miss you!!

waggossip new wag alert?

>username would be better if she wasn’t a child🤣

>username shes literally an adult wdym….

charles_leclerc ❤️

yninstagram added to their story!

*comments disabled*

charles_leclerc

liked by yninstagram, leclerc_pascale, apmmonaco and 645,000 others

my happy place is with you❤️

tagged yninstagram

see 87,000 comments

username he’s dating a child lmfao

username charles you could do so much better

leclerc_pascale c’est très jolie mes bébés❤️

>yninstagram merci maman😘

username she’s so pretty!!

username this is gonna be such a train wreck

lilyhme ugh so jealous when is it our turn for sunset hikes?!

>yninstagram next week?!

carlossainz55 how early did he give up @:yninstagram?

>yninstagram 30 mins in😂

>charles_leclerc LIES

username she’ll be gone faster than we can blink 😂

charles leclerc added to their story!

*comments disabled*

wagsofF1

liked by username, wagsgossip, francisca.cgomes and 15,000 others

formula 1 driver charles leclerc was spotted comforting his girlfriend y/n y/l/n after being seen out enjoying some time with friends and family this evening in Monaco. a fan said she looked really upset, distraught and was crying, charles looked really angry and pissed off…lately y/n has been getting lots of hate for her age and being in a relationship with the scuderia ferrari driver.

what are your thoughts?

see 5,500 comments

username i think she’s really sweet:(

username LMFAO ofc she breaks down in public attention seeking much?

>username grow tf up

username what did she expect!! she’s basically a child!!!

username i feel really bad for her:(

francisca.cgomes i think everyone needs to shut the hell up. mind your business and stop bullying people online. get a job.

>username KIKA!!!!!

>username she really said not today hoe

username i was there, charles was yelling at a group of people for harassing y/n as they all ate dinner…i felt so bad hearing her cry…she doesn’t deserve it :(

yninstagram

liked by charles_leclerc, voguefrance, pierregasly and 115,000 others

laisse moi seul.

*comments disabled*

yninstagram added to their story!

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charles_leclerc

liked by scuderiaferrari, yninstagram, landonorris and 645,000 others

i should have said something a long time ago but the things i have been seeing being written and said about my girlfriend are just not acceptable. seeing and hearing her cry almost everyday because people cannot be respectful breaks my heart. everyone knows I am very private with my life and with her, for this exact reason that’s been shown again and again. the night people decided to verbally attack her while we were out was completely disrespectful and i couldn’t believe what i was hearing. you all have no place to make comments, opinions or assumptions.

y/n you are sunshine personified and you are the love of my life. i will continue to protect you and your heart for as long as i’m around. je t’aime tellement mon fleur❤️

see 300 comments

francisca.cgomes we love you y/n❤️❤️

>pierregasly charles and I will go to war for you!!

>yninstagram i love you both 🩷

scuderiaferrari sending lots of love and hugs y/n❤️❤️

liked by yninstgram and charles_leclerc

lewishamilton love seeing you at the track on race weekends, keep smiling sunny🤍

>ynisnstagram i’ll try lew❤️

arthur_leclerc we’ve got your back always, you’re family

>leclerc_pascale and we love having you be apart of our family🩷

>yninstagram im going to cry i love you all so much:(

yninstagram i love you charlie:(

>charles_leclerc i love you more chérie❤️

*comments on this post have been limited*

yninstagram

liked by charles_leclerc, joristrouche, lilyhme and 89,000 others

just me, some watermelon and my favourite person❤️🍉

tagged charles_leclerc

see 500 comments

lilyhme gorgeous gorgeous girl🩷

>yninstagram see you tonight🥰

charles_leclerc watermelon or me?

>yninstagram you…always you baby😘

joristrouche save some for me

>yninstagram hurry up!!!!

leclerc_pascale❤️❤️❤️❤️

liked by yninstagram and charles_leclerc

francisca.cgomes i can’t wait to see you tonight🩷🩷

>yninstagram me either 🥰🥰

*comments on this post have been limited*

#rueswrites #ruesanswers #ruesanons<3 #ruesasks #charles leclerc au #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x girlfriend reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x wife reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc social media au #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc fake instagram #charles leclerc fake social media #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc f1 #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 #formula one

[coralinnii]

Can I please request Cater, Ace, Deuce and Epel helping you after a rough break up (with someone else, not them)?

‧₊˚✧ Let me love you until you love yourself ‧₊˚✧

↳ Helping you after a rough breakup 

feat: Cater ❋ Ace ❋ Deuce ❋ Epel genre: hurt/comfort note: no pronouns were used with the reader, reader is implied to be Yuu!reader, depictions of toxic relationships, implications of violence,

Similar prompt: finding out you got brutally rejected

2.7K Followers Writing Event 2023

You see, Cater already had a suspicion that your boyfriend wasn’t the greatest pick. Years of listening to his older sisters talk about red flags to look out has honed his sixth sense about these kind of stuff.

But what was he supposed to tell you? He’s not going to just barge into your relationship and tell you that he feels some off vibes about your man. All he could do was be there for you when you needed an ear to hear you out. 

But he started to notice that you were less like yourself as the relationship went on. Your Magicam account wasn’t as active and soon even your close friends weren’t sure when was the last time you hung out with them. Cater could only catch you in class or with your glaring boyfriend clinging to you. 

Your relationship finally hit an ugly crescendo when your boyfriend publicly humiliated you and ended things in the open hallway. The reason Cater learned was because you wanted to go out with your friends again, even if he didn’t want to. 

Night Raven College has a knack for choosing students with rather vindictive personalities and no matter how subtle it is, Cater is no different. The sociable redhead may not always be the type to step up to lead or start something, but he is more than willing to teach a tactless underclassman a lesson on respect.

It doesn’t matter which dorm your ex is from since the extrovert Cater has friends and contacts of all the Housewardens, vice Housewardens and other notable students with authority. Call it his privilege for his chatty nature and years on this large campus.

With a charming set of words and implications from the smooth-talking Cater, most of them picked up the hint that a certain jerk needed some well-deserved punishment. For disgracing the dorm’s dignity, they all claimed. 

With the personified ick dealt with, all of Cater’s attention is on you. The versatile upperclassman can be anything you need in your time of healing. Cafe dates, unhinged frustration venting, screaming karaoke sessions with a chill support group (an exclusive privilege courtesy of the Pop Music Club), or a judgeless crying session as he held you together both metaphorically and literally. 

The screaming karaoke and dessert binging was fun and all, but the feeling of Cater’s warm hands as he gently rubbed your back as you hiccuped through your tears was a healing moment that left you raw but appreciative. 

Perhaps there was a little bit of guilt, or even something deeper within his heart for you, but as he wrapped his arms around you closer whilst you fell asleep in comfort, Cater thought to himself to protect you from something like this for as long as he can stay with you, for as long as he could do to stay with you.

“Hey now, no tears. Cay-Cay to the rescue!” 

Oh he hated your ex from day 1. No, it wasn’t because of his personal feelings for you, it was just literally everything about that jerk. At every chance, Ace would snidely comment and jeer the as*hole. The only reason he would stop was if you personally asked him to get along with him. 

“Tch. Fine, I guess” 

So Ace is a liar, but at least he’s a good actor. He’s willing to smile and laugh but he never lets the suspicious feeling fade. 

That suspicion quickly became rage when Grim told him that jerk of yours broke up with you over text. 

Turns out your (ex) boyfriend was dating you in hopes to catch the attention of a crush from his hometown, sending pictures in hopes to stir up some jealousy. Questions became screaming matches in your room and soon you were left a broken mess alone in your bedroom.

When Ace knocked on your door sometime later, you saw him in a familiar heart-shaped collar which wasn’t a surprising image. Without saying much, all Ace offered as a vague explanation was that he got into a fight with some jerk student.

As Ace was getting comfortable on your sofa, Cater later texted you, giving full details of what happened. Turns out the “jerk student” was your ex who was running his mouth oh how you were crazy and unbearable out in the courtyard, where Ace was passing by.

“Riddle is pretty pissed right now. Ace just went crazy on him and wouldn’t let up until we pulled him away. But still, be kind to him, k? He had good intentions.” 

Sitting together on the sofa, the two of you made quite an interesting image. Your eyes were red with wet tracks all over your face from crying while Ace had swollen patches of blue and black on his normally boyishly charming face. 

You broke the tension. “You didn’t need to do that, you know.” 

Ace brushed your words off. “What are you talking about? I did it for me. That dude always rubbed me the wrong way.” 

Ace is a liar, but strangely you didn’t mind it when he did it.

“Just so we’re clear, I didn’t do it for you. Alright? Good, so don’t go thinking too deep into it…”

A model student would support all of his peers, Deuce convinced himself. It was why he kept himself from just straight-up wrecking this punk that you found yourself dating. But Deuce trusts you. Maybe Deuce’s misjudging him since he can’t imagine you falling for someone beneath you, and he assumed that despite how he feels about your partner, this dude wouldn’t be stupid enough to not treat you good. 

But unbeknownst to Deuce, arguments were common in your relationship with your insecure partner. From complaining that you don’t spend time with him (um, because you were busy saving your friends from overblot?) to outright blaming you for emasculating him in his own relationship because of your popularity in school for your accomplishments. 

The breakup itself was honestly anti-climatic, and everyone could see it from a while away so it came to the surprise of no one. 

It was the aftermath of all of the arguments with your ex that truly hurt you. What was once a source of pride to you became reasons of your anxiety as you wondered if your ex held truth in his accusations. 

“You think you’re perfect ‘cause you’re doing a little better than me? Get over your high horse, you pretentious b-“

“Are you ok?” Deuce’s voice snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts, bringing you back to the library where you were helping Deuce with a subject he was failing. 

You tried smiling but Deuce noticed the tenseness of your features and try asking once more, which led you to ultimately voicing your worries. 

“Maybe I was being too boastful, I shouldn’t just talk about me- Wait, Deuce?!” 

You managed to catch Deuce by the hem of his sleeve before flinching at the sight of the glaring rage in Deuce’s fiery eyes. 

“Where is that no-good coward! That punk’s getting what's coming to him!” 

It took some time (and getting kicked out from the library) for Deuce to finally settle his rage. Still, he was muttering some choice words to describe your ex which made you chuckle just a little. You wanted the breakup to be civil and simply pass as an unpleasant memory but you admit that seeing someone get mad for your sake was…nice. Almost heart-warming, really.

Suddenly, Deuce turned to face you. Back straight and his strong fist firmly pressed to his chest, Deuce looked to you with pure honesty as he promised to protect you from your worthless ex with everything he’s got. 

It took you quite some time to admit that when Deuce made that promise, you felt your heart skip a beat. 

“If anyone gives you grief for that, just ignore 'em. Let me handle them, I’m pretty strong.”

Romance honestly flies over Epel’s head. Afterall, the relationships he’s seen are his town’s couples who've been married for decades with kids all grown up, and the ones he’s seen in films and books. All he knew was, if you like someone and you’re dating them, you should be counting yer lucky stars and make sure you treat them right.

So, imagine the genuine look of surprise on his face when his dormmates whispered rumors that you were caught in an ugly argument with your boyfriend, with accusations that your man was actually cheating with someone supposedly prettier than you. 

Now, imagine his unbridled rage when Epel found that it was true. Your ex-boyfriend apparently held high expectations of himself and the partners he deemed to be worthy by his side. While he settled for you, he was looking around for another companion that “best suits his standards” as he said. 

It took a strict scolding and promise of harsh reprimanding from Vil to calm the young freshman down as his hometown habits rushed back to him. How he wanted to give that no-good son of a backyard mutt a mighty beating for what he did to you.

Instead, Vil suggested that Epel rather hit him where it would really hurt for unsavory fellows like him, through his pride. 

“If he thought he was better off with someone that “best suits his standards” as he put it, try proving to him he ended up with what he deserved. ” 

After deciphering what Vil meant, Epel used his noggin to hurt your ex where it really hurts. No longer was he the runt of a small village, but a man with various connections and skills to get a leg over his enemies. 

With his persistence, he convinced his Spelldrive captain, Leona to sit with you during lunch, and have the Vil Schoenheit spoil you with high-end gifts in public. With the attention of the most famous students showing you favor, everyone in NRC whispered and commented on who really won in the breakup. 

“He cheated while dating someone like that? What a mistake.” 

Behind his soft expression, Epel mentally smirked at the plummeting image of the man who prioritized fame over love. "You darn right a mistake it was, he thought.

In the entire time Epel treated you like the most important person on campus…in public at least.

In the privacy of your dormroom, you worked hard in holding in your laughter as Epel swore up a storm like a drunken sailor about the worthless ex of yours. Like Vil, it’ll be up to you to make sure he won’t go off picking a fight with your ex. 

Still, there was something undeniably true to Epel’s character to defend your honor, however he does it. 

“I ain’t too good at these sneaky schemes, but you gotta admit I got ‘im real good. Don’t cha think?”

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #cater diamond #twst cater x reader #ace trappola #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade #twst deuce x reader #deuce x reader #epel felmier #epel x reader #2.7k followers event

[mahtharula]

✧･ﾟ— nailtech!connie headcanons

starring: nail tech!connie x black!fem!reader wc: 627 cw: purely fluff 🫶🏾

nailtech!connie was the tech all of the girls wanted to book with. yeah, he knew how to get your hands right, but everyone wanted to book simply to get a closer look of the man. from his dyed buzz cut head that always had a different design every time you came into the shop, to his tall, to the tattoos that decorated his arms and hands perfectly and his eyes. oh his hazel eyes is what gets them.. but most importantly, his nails! 

nailtech!connie is both a great listener and conversationalist! Honestly, he should add being a therapist to his qualifications because the amount of advice he has given his clients is insane. most of the time, they complain about their man and his line is, “you too pretty to be dealing with that.” (which have the girls swooning out of their minds).

nailtech!connie who definitely plays music during his appointments. of course, he caters to his clients preference of music and rocks from there, but baby if you give him the aux you will be far from disappointed. his music is so diverse, it ranges from partynextdoor to bossa nova, depending on his mood. his main goal is to make the client comfortable, so when booking with him he has a section where he asks if you want a talkative or silent session.

nailtech!connie who learned to do nails after watching his aunt  do it for some time. at first, he only learned to expand his creativity as an artist since he dabbled in many mediums, but once he got the hang of it he was hooked. as he continued  perfecting the craft  and posting his work, two  years and a half later he had enough money to rent out a studio and widen his client intake.

nailtech!connie because of the overwhelming number of clients who began booking with him since the opening, trying to squeeze in new clients was a tricky task. most times, connie would be booked for weeks making it hard to even get a taste of his talent on your nails. so when his homegirl was begging for him to do her best friend's nails, all he had to say was that she was lucky one of his regulars canceled. 

nailtech!connie was absolutely floored when you walked into his studio. of course, he catered to many women due to his career, but something about you just had him stuck. from your smooth, dark skin to your locs that ended at the middle of your back, your plump lips that revealed a pearly white, gem decorated smile. you were like a dream personified. As you were explaining your vision for your nails to connie, he was trying his very best to focus but your scent of shea butter and florals was distracting him, “you paying attention, con?” “huh? yeah, yeah, i am!”

nailtech!connie trying to learn everything about you. from your favorite foods to what you do as a career, all of it. when he found out you were a rapper, he only wanted to go harder pulling out some exclusive charms he was saving. something he did love was how despite giving him an idea of what you wanted, you basically gave him freedom to present your idea into his vision, which he absolutely loved.

nailtech!connie who kept refusing to take the full payment and insisted on giving you a discount (because he can). after a few times, you finally convinced him to take the payment, but asked if you could become a regular because his work was so good. it only took a flutter of your lashed extensions for the man to fold,  but he only had one rule: don’t cheat on him.

✧･ﾟ— author’s note • hey y’all!! i hope this was good, i’m super proud of it but please give me feedback 🙏🏾. do y’all want more nailtech!connie? do ya’ll want more connie & y/n 😗? let me know and i appreciate y’all, until next time 🖤

tags : @yourrfavzxri , @theemrsjaeger , @hqkalon , @1h3artm3

#✧･ﾟ—mahwrotethis #nailtech!connie #nailtech!connie headcanons #connie x black reader #connie x black y/n #aot x black reader #aot connie #connie imagine #connie fluff

[bones4thecats]

Hey, I was wondering if you could use your writing skills on a scenario with Apollo, Hades, and Buddha, where they meet the reader (a goddess of the cosmos), who hasn't interacted with other deities(and humans)?I hope you will consider it.

A/N: Hello there, Anon!! I always consider the requests that are sent into my inbox! I really did like your request, as the Goddess of Cosmos thing is really cute. Uranus is used as the Reader's father here! I do hope you enjoy this!!

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☀️ He had heard about you from both his nymphs and fellow Gods

☀️ You were known as the Greek Goddess of the Cosmos, and the daughter of Uranus, the previous God of Cosmos

☀️ Unlike many Greek Gods, you were very introverted, straying far away from Gods, only seen speaking to the sky, supposedly to your father, who personified the sky

☀️ All Gods were pretty much required to go to Gods’ Council meetings, but nobody had ever seen you join the meetings, with the excuse from Hades that you were resting in one of your father’s temples

☀️ And it surprised everyone when stars started falling from the ceiling and you popped up, sitting on a cloud, bundled up by a cute comet blanket

☀️ He stared at you with hearts in his eyes, you were the most beautiful Goddess he had ever seen before, and in his opinion, you surpassed Aphrodite

☀️ Your eyes shimmered with stars and your cheeks were littered with small sparkles

“ Ah, Y/N! It’s a pleasure to see you decided to join us for once! “

☀️ Apollo ignored Zeus’ comment and watched as you waved lightly to other Gods before Aphrodite sat beside you and began to caress your hair, with permission of course!

☀️ The God of the Sun then decided, you were going to be the one he would marry and have children with, after all, opposites attract, he just hopes maybe you’d return the feelings

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💀 Hades knew of you because he had seen you around as he grew up

💀 As the God of the Dead, he knew of your history, as your mother was mortal and your father was the original God of the Cosmos, how that worked? No clue

💀 You were known around the Greek Pantheon as a kind and quiet individual, never really showing up to meet anyone, including Zeus when he beat Cronos and took over the head

💀 The only person you had ever really spoken to that he knew of was Aphrodite, and that was because she had come across you inside of one of Uranus’ temples one night while she walked around

💀 Hades was just taking a stroll throughout Helheim when he heard a small voice singing by the river STYX

💀 He cocked an eyebrow and immediately turned and walked towards the noise, expecting to find a possible nymph of a visiting God or Goddess, but, he found you

💀 You had a blackhole-themed outfit on, it fanning out by your feet as the cloud of stars underneath you slowly were sucked in and exported out of the middle of it over and over again

💀 He froze in place and caught your attention with how he stood by you after finally gaining the confidence to move towards you

💀 After speaking for a while, you both realized you liked one another, and you swore to visit him more often. And during one of those visits, he discovered his feelings, now, all he hopes is that you like him back

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🍭 Buddha knew of you, but he didn’t actually know you

🍭 He had heard about you mainly through Gods’ Council meetings, as some Gods would complain about having to be there while you weren’t obligated like them

🍭 He had decided to head out for a walk before the 4th round of Ragnarok ensued, and that was when he had met you

🍭 You were sitting on a star-formed cloud that was letting stars fall into the ground, leaving slight burn marks, then flowers grew

🍭 To say he was curious was an understatement, he was getting nosy

🍭 Buddha looked at you from behind and tapped your shoulder before swiftly moving to the front saying ‘boo’

🍭 The way you jumped and looked behind you in surprise amused him, and seeing you then turn around once again in shock before getting flustered and backing away

🍭 The way your cheeks flushed and the sparkles that littered your cheeks began to brighten made him chuckle

🍭 Ever since that day, he had a habit of meeting up to speak with you, and you seemed to enjoy his presence

🍭 He loved to mess with your hair which was littered with many different kinds of things, from clips symbolizing planets to small stars

🍭 During his match of Ragnarok, he smirked, looked at you and laughed as stars enveloped Zerofuku’s head as you leapt in front of him, declaring your alliance with Humanity, and ever since then, you guys have been inseparable

🍭 It was that form of honor and determination that made him realize his feelings for you ran deeper than friendship, so, now, he plans to ask, if you felt the same. Oh how he hopes you do!

#Record of Ragnarok #RoR #Shuumatsu no Valkyrie #SnV #RoR Dharmic/Buddhism Pantheon #RoR Greek Pantheon #Record of Ragnarok Gods #RoR Gods #Record of Ragnarok x Reader #RoR x Reader #Shuumatsu no Valkyrie x Reader #SnV x Reader #RoR Greek Pantheon x Reader #RoR Dharmic/Buddhism Pantheon x Reader #Record of Ragnarok Gods x Reader #RoR Gods x Reader #F! Reader #God! Reader #RoR Apollo #RoR Apollo x Reader #RoR Hades #RoR Hades x Reader #RoR Buddha #RoR Buddha x Reader

[tarjapearce]

A Wacky Spider

Miguel O'Hara x SpiderPersonfem!Reader

WARNINGS: Sexual language, sexual depictions of genitals, research about spiders, wacky behaviors of spiders, implicit heavy breeding kink, established relationships, wacky request.

Requested Here

P. d. Learned a lot of shite of spiders that might be useful for later 🤭♥️. Hope you like or at least make sense of this (No proofread at all) And yes, The Evarcha is a real spider 🫶🏻.

If there was something Miguel surely understood is that some Spider people under his command were a bit more spider than they actually let on. Some radioactive spiders were so different that had their host acting partially like them.

The biggest example? You. You had been bitten by an Evarcha Culicivora, aka. The Vampire spider. A jumping spider that fed of blood fattened mosquitos, a natural pest control. He'd sometimes would catch you eating steaks in the cafeteria with enough blood cells, that for some reason made you smell so damn sweet afterwards.

His arachnid DNA reacted so well to it. His talons were out whenever you approached him, smelling like heaven personified, the urge to be around you just increased. He couldn't help it. But other spiders rather to stay away from you as their spider senses tingled too often.

Oddly enough he had been discovering things about yourself that secretly unleashed a whole new level of fascination for you. Like your aphrodisiac venom.

You had chomped Miguel by accident as he was in a sparring session with you, much to yours and his dismay, he ended up having a raging and borderline painful boner. Of course you'd help him in the only way you knew, took one stroke of his cock to convince him.

Riding him eventually had turned in one of your favorite things to do. You loved when he hissed both in pain and pleasure as your walls tightened around him while you had him under the spell of your sweet and delicious smell.

It was addicting to have him as your personal fucktoy, just as he was addicted to you. You had been the only spider that truly rivaled his stamina, meaning you could get at it for hours if it was a slow day.

-----

Even though Miguel was into you, he was still a scientist at heart. He didn't select random spiders to join in his task force, no, he selected those that had loyalty, skills and brains.

You were more of an action sort of Spider, but always offered a different approach and input to his issues when needed. The first time you had arrived at the Lobby was uneventful, nothing too out of the ordinary except for different spiders, from around the world, periods of times, even some random things you didn't think possible like a Spider-Rex, A Spider-cat, and of course a horse.

It was nice, to find your kind of gang.

The first thing Miguel had noticed from you besides your skills and the little fangs under your pouty lips, was your smell. Something that triggered a mating-like behavior on his spider side.

He would spend hours subtly watching you, trying to find what triggered that scent on you. And much to his surprise, it was blood. He'd noticed that after eating a particular juicy steak, you'd smell like if cotton candy was turned into a perfume and you were doused in it. One would think it was overwhelming, it was to some other spiders, but to Miguel, it was perfect.

Then, he discovered about your aphrodisiac venom. And to this day you still felt embarrassed at how things displayed. A wannabe knock off Vulture had infiltrated in your dimension, and had caused a ruckus. Despite the man looking ridiculous, his grip was steely and out of despair you had bit him. Hard.

Miguel and the other people couldn't believe what they were seeing. The man panted as his groin started to grow painfully tight in his pants, lust splattered all over his face and a needy voice that far from insulting, was charmingly pathetic for the way he begged for help.

"Ew..." Jessica mumbled

"What the actual fuck" Peter followed

Miguel just watched both curious and disgusted at the man's reaction. But experiencing it himself was just something else, he felt primal, needy, low key possessive and oh so ready to give your womb it's almost daily dose of him.

But he had been acting different, almost bummed out.

"Hey, Miggy"  He groaned at the nickname, and let you sit on his lap.

"Something troubles you?"

"You, actually."

"Me? How come?"

"Results are different each time, they don't give me exact information. I need exact data."

"Hm... Are you worried about something in specific?"

"Yes. By this point, considering your menstrual cycle, and the many times we have fucked, you should be pregnant by now. But you aren't."

"Wait... hold up, you been trying to breed me?"

"Hard to not when you're always smelling like fucking candy and letting me cum inside, bonita. You doing it on purpose?"

You laughed and shook your head

"Not really. I just love the cafeteria's steak. But seeing you so set for it, makes me-"

"Sick?" He groaned in disapproval of himself, "I know it's fucked up, I should've-."

"Don't worry, maybe we can find a way to make the breeding effective?"

He blinked at you for a second.

"Are you really...?"

You shrugged and giggled

"I mean, by the amount of sex we have been having being preggers would just be a matter of time. You though I wouldn't notice?"

He rubbed his face with a groan.

"Right."

"You aren't as subtle as you think you are, O'Hara." You'd smile and stood up.

"Wanna run more tests and find out why I'm not bred yet?"

He'd chuckle with a nod.

-----

He'd take a blood sample, analyze data, but nothing out of the normal showed. Then he grabbed a little ultrasound machine.

"Mind to stay still?"

"Im ticklish."

"Quédate quieta, solo un ratito" (Stay still, just a moment)

His hand stopped abruptly as his breath was caught in his throat.

The imagery of your womb showed one thing. There wasn't the typical outline of a baby, instead, there was a little cocoon like texture surrounding the baby.

"Is that..."

"A baby..."

"Dios mío.... wait" He zoomed kn the picture, "For all we know it could be more than one"

The eagerness in his voice didn't go unnoticed by you

"Congratulations, daddy"

He just smirked. He'd take you later to the spider doctor.

Spiders indeed were wacky beings.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 #t writes✨ #spiderman 2099 x reader

[cherryblossom-enthusiast]

Retribution (The Kidxf!Reader) - Monkey Man

A/N: I said I was writing it and it has been done lol If you haven’t watched this film yet, please do! I indulged and wrote a small fic about it lol (Don't mind the abyssmal pacing of this, I barely edited and added anything) I hope you all enjoy it and can someone please indulge me more by writing more fics about this man!? Dev Patel absolutely killed it! Put him in a rom-com! I tried to write the hijra with as much care as possible. Please let me know if there’s something I can be more educated on in terms of this!

Synopsis: A mysterious man arrives at the temple you call home and makes quite an impression.

Warnings/ Tags: Angst. Fluff. Allusions to sex work. Descriptions of violence and blood. Coarse language. Kissing.

Word Count: 3.2K

Masterlist

The cheers of those around you interrupt the hanging of your laundry.

Peeking through the shoulders and the shadows, you sneak a glance at the subject of commotion, and it doesn’t surprise you.

The way he moves is equal parts graceful and aggressive. His punches are meticulously messy, a choreographed war drum thrumming to the beat of his own heart. This man is far removed from who you remember gazing upon a few days ago. His eyes were lost, sunken, like a child looking for guidance or divine judgement for all that’s led him to this point.

This was not that man.

This man was vengeance personified.

And through him, you felt hope.

You knew nothing about him. Alpha was able to garner all of your help, quietly and quickly instructing to pull the man out of the river. You were there when they cauterized his wounds. His screams were pure agony, making you cringe, and somehow you felt that his pain went deeper than physicality.

He walked like a ghost when he first came, aimlessly walking, like trying to just bump into something that would give him an answer.

Now, it seems he walks with purpose.

He throws his last punch and receives a mighty applause. The crowd recognizes the show’s over for the time being and they disperse as he keeps heaving, staring at the bag like he wants to hit it more. Like he never wants to stop.

You pick up a basket and walk over to him. Whether to strike up a proper conversation or feeling annoyed at the dirtied shirt on the ground you had just washed, you don’t exactly know. But something about him is magnetic, pulling you in, just like the first time you saw him that night, all bloody and bruised.

You nod at his white shirt. “I’ll take that.”

He breaks from his spell and turns to look at you.

His heaving slows, his breaths getting deeper by the second. For what you think is a few minutes, he just stares are you, and you at him, both of you taking each other in. You realize his physique really is something to awe over, but more importantly, that his eyes are far gentler than what you thought possible.

You tilt your head. “The shirt?”

He bends and picks up the white cloth, simply extending it to you as he continues to stare. You gesture for him to drop it into the basket. With an amused scoff, you start to turn away. “I’d appreciate it if you hung the next shirt you tore off on a wall.”

“Your name?”

His voice surprises you. You’ve only heard him speak a few times before. He sounds rough, and scratchy, like he doesn’t use his voice often.

You introduce yourself and after a few moments, he repeats your name back to you. Slowly, quietly, as if he’s scared of offending you in any way. Listening to it fall from his lips is like listening to dripping honey and you’d be lying to yourself if you said it didn’t make heat crawl up your neck.

To save face, you again start to walk away from him. “Widen your stance.” You advise, not waiting to hear a reply.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Several days pass until you have another full conversation.

You’re caught up with mundane chores. He’s caught up with punching that bag and doing god knows what else when he’s not at the temple.

Though there was that one time you almost slip and he catches you effortlessly by the waist and it definitely made your stomach flutter.

You smile the first time you depart to wash laundry and see his shirt hanging over a nearby wall.

He’s getting better. His posture looks strong, immovable. Sometimes you think with all that’s happened to him, that he must be invincible. Surely, no one can lose that much blood and still maintain their sanity.

But then you see his movements wain by the end of his exercise and it’s like something powerful overcomes him as he loses all finesse and he punches that rice-filled bag for all its worth with no rhyme or reason. You sense his frustration as he suddenly stops and puts his hand on his hips, breathing erratically.

You approach him cautiously. Pulling out a bottle of water from your laundry basket, you offer it to him. “Consider taking a break?”

He’s slow to take the bottle from you but he does so anyway. After almost draining the whole thing, he splashes the rest of the water over his head. Only as he shakes the droplets off his curly locks does he try to return it to you.

“An actual break.” You reiterate, stuffing the bottle of water back into your basket. “Your drummer needs one too. He might have built up his callouses, but he should eat something.”

The man turns to look where your eyes are directed and though you don’t have a clear view of his face, you can tell from the way that his eyebrows ease that he feels a sense of guilt. The drummer simply raises his palm and stands. “Take some time to clear your head, I’ll be here whenever you have.” He leaves the courtyard until it’s just the two of you left.

The weather is oddly cool today. There’s smoke and a mugginess that’s expected from being close to the heart of the city, but if you were to look around, it’d almost seem like you were transported decades into the past. The temple acts like a sanctuary, shielding you all from the outside world’s noise and it does a good job.

You walk towards a small wooden bench off to the far side and take a seat. You set your basket down and pat the space next to you. “Come,” You beckon “I’d appreciate some company while I fold all of these white shirts I’ve had to add to my load.”’

Something like embarrassment flashes on his face as he follows your command and sits right next to you. His posture is stiff like he wants to make an impression. It’s obvious your newfound companion doesn’t like to talk, or more accurately, isn’t very good at starting small conversation.

“I’m sorry for the bother.”

He has a tone of bashfulness, unable to turn in your direction. Your smile widens as you continue to fold “I didn’t say it was bothersome.” You refute. “In fact, I’d rather say I don’t mind you taking your shirt off.”

You try to make direct eye contact then, but he swallows thickly and doesn’t meet your eyes. It makes you giggle, but you decide to pull back on the joke, not wanting him to take offence or cause him more uneasiness. “Besides, each shirt is a testament to how much work you’ve put into bettering your skills here.”

That gets him to scoff and drop his head in disbelief “I’m still not where I need to be.”

“No,” you reply earnestly “but you will be.”

This earns you another bout of silence.

 For a while, you both just enjoy each other’s quiet company. He stares blankly ahead and you give him the time to examine whatever it is he’s battling through in his own thoughts.

Eventually, he sighs and inclines his head towards the sky. “How long have you lived here?”

“Ever since I could remember.”  You answer honestly. “Alpha says they opened the door and there I was, miraculously alive, left laying on a dirty blanket.”

“You’ve been here ever since?” He carefully asks.

“I’ve never lived anywhere else if that’s what you’re asking.” You pass an unfolded shirt to him and to your surprise he starts to fold it with no question. Bitter memories start to glaze your view. “And for someone as uneducated as me, there’s only a few jobs out there that I’d be considered for as a woman.”

A knowing silence passes through you both at the statement. Yatana was unforgiving. A real dog-eat-dog society with no time or need for those who couldn’t stomach it or keep up. Truth be told, most of the time you couldn’t. Very often would a prostitute or child be pounding on your doors for help or asylum. Hungry, beaten, thrown away like a speck of dust not worth anyone’s time.

“Doesn’t it make you angry?”

You’re unphased by the question. “Of course it does.”

And you mean it. There are days when you scream at the sky or dunk your head slightly longer underwater to try and get away from it all, try to release it in some way.

Eyes still trained to the sky; he confesses “Because that’s all I feel. Anger and pain, and I can’t-“ he struggles to finish his words. “I can’t-‘

“I know.”

That makes him look back down and finally turn in your direction. He patiently expects you to explain.

 You swallow thickly but continue to talk anyway. “To feel helpless, like you can’t do anything no matter how hard you try.” Gritting your teeth, you realize your hands have stopped folding. “But it doesn’t matter, because there are people who need me more strongly than the pain I feel.”

He considers your words thoughtfully and waits for you to speak once more. “Amidst all this chaos, this temple stands. People need me here. Children, mothers, the beautiful hijra who gave me a home, and when they leave this place with the tiniest glimpse of hope on their faces, then I know I’ve done my job. I don’t fight as well as the hijra here, I don’t expect to get much better, but I want them to know that they have refuge with me.”

You pass him an unfolded sari and for the rest of the time you are sitting together, you both fold quietly, basking in the sun and each other’s presence.

He continues to train harder after that. Each step is quick, each punch as sharp as a bullet. When he isn’t training, he’s watching. The news, the protests, the speeches, like he’s reassuring himself, learning the best way to approach.

 It’s obvious everyone here, including you is taken with this stranger. Though, you don’t really know if you could even call him that anymore.

It’s like he seeks you out. It doesn’t matter if it’s simply sitting together for dinner or him deliberately waiting for you to walk through the courtyard with your basket under your arm. Both of your eyes are trained on each other with an eager sheen.

Maybe it’s fear or maybe it's an understanding that your pairing would most likely never work out in the end. Either way, whatever it is, it disappoints you because you so badly want to believe he wants you the same way.

The mood becomes slightly flirtatious and you catch sight of a boyish grin here or there, especially when he’s surrounded by the hijra.

But anytime you think he might ask you something, or just when you’re on the cusp of telling him your interest, something stops you in your tracks, holding you back.

A recollection plays in your head of last night.

It’s just him and the drummer again today. You wait near a dark window before you pass so as to not to disturb his concentration.

He has a beat to the way he fights, a brutal rhythm, and it astounds you every time you watch him. If this is how he looks punching a bag, you wonder how he’d look fighting against others. You find the thought oddly attractive, and it makes you flush.

For all his skill in the ring, it seems that’s where all his artistry in footwork stops. Surrounded by laughing and beaming faces, with the sound of softer drumming in the air, everyone takes a turn dancing. No one cared about how sloppy anyone was. You sure weren’t the best dancer amongst the hijras, but this seemed unsubstantial when you were all drunk on each other’s company.

The children present that evening and you form a small circle. You’re swinging your arms around when you notice your mystery man with a smile of his own. It knocks the air out of your lungs. It’s one that gives him crinkles around his eyes and all at once he doesn’t look like a hardened killer, but someone you’d see on a billboard or a magazine cover.

You crook your finger at him, inviting him into your little dance number. He tries to politely decline, his once beaming face turning something sheepish, but Alpha bumps him shoulder to shoulder, and soon the rest of them urge and tease him to dance along. When he gets to the center begrudgingly, it’s already too late for him to back out. Two children start to pull him until he lands directly opposite of you.

The circle of your intertwined hands spins, it twirls here and there, and when you all raise your hands to shrink the circle, you land face-to-face with the most fascinating man you’ve ever seen. It lasts all of five seconds, but everything around you dims as you look at this man’s face illuminated by firelight.

His eyes are his most emotive feature and they always seem to twinkle. Right then, they almost looked like jewels from the way they glossed over.

You pick up on the way those eyes slowly dipped down towards your lips and suddenly you wonder if he’s thinking about the same things you are. If he really does want you the same way you do.

But before you can tumble into that path of thought, cheers and hoots pull you out of the little bubble of enchantment you’d created. You turn to reject the idea of it all, but when you glance back at the man in front of you, your breath catches.

He continues to stare intently at your visage, not minding or caring about the extra attention one bit.

And then a scream erupts in your ears.

Seeing him punch the bag until rice grains stick to his chest reminds you of what he’s capable of.

When he shares a nod with the drummer, you know that he’s finally achieved what he came here at the temple to do.

Dropping your basket, you immediately rush indoors, following the cries of the hijra around you. Lakshmi lays in the center of the temple room floor, blood dripping from them like a fountain. You crouch and gently put their head on your knees as the weeps continue all around you.

They explain that they put a notice on the door, Shakti’s men, and all you can see is an unbridled tint of red starting to form. Your heart is pounding, Lakshmi is struggling to fight for air, and in front of this statue, an indescribable wave of pain crashes into you.

It’s loud, far too loud. With your thoughts, the cries, the blood staining your shirt.

Your one hand on the floor clenches into a fist. You try to remind yourself that you can be better, that there must be something more to all of this than just pray, than to just keep taking what they serve like impotent little ants. The hopelessness starts to creep in, slowly etching itself into your thoughts.

But before it can take hold, you distinguish a face in the shadows. It’s observing as everything around you starts to crumble and in that moment you try to push all that anger onto him as you directly glare into his soul.

And when you see him break open the donation box much later during the humid night, you know you’ve put your faith into the right person.

He tries to leave as silently as he came, but you meet him at the entrance. He holds a crude, dirty children’s bag and you can only assume that’s where he’s keeping the money.

He tries to explain, but you start to approach him which stops his needless rambling. In an act of boldness, you grab his hand in yours and flip it to look clearly at his scars. If he’s uncomfortable, he doesn’t show it. He doesn’t even flinch.

“Alpha was right.” You agree. “You do have the hands of a warrior”

You enclose his hand between yours, putting it up against your lips. “I wonder how such gentle hands fight with such ferocity.”

He starts to twitch and as you loosen your grip, expecting him to pull back, he instead cups the side of your face and despite his scarred calloused hands, his touch is pure velvet. His thumb brushes the tears you didn’t notice were starting to fall freely down your cheek.

Please, you pray. Whatever it takes.

“Fight for me.” You croak thickly. “Fight for all of us.”

He clenches his jaw. “I promise you.”

You pull him towards you by grasping his neck and your lips meet in the middle. The kiss is like him. Equal parts sweet as it is harsh. His lips were warm and soft, but the urgency in the way you both kissed each other was anything but. You bury your hand into his hair and feel his curls unmake themselves even further. His smell of soap and sage infiltrates your senses.

It was a dizzying feeling. It’s what you felt while you were dancing exploded ten-fold. It was the culmination of tension and grief exploding into something technicolour. As your noses bump against each other, you think you want to draw more of this kindness from this man.

Your breathing quickens and he groans into your mouth. It’s almost like you two are fighting. With each other, against each other, for each other. Exploring this hungry need has only made you more insatiable.  

And that becomes particularly dangerous, especially when you know he has a job to do.

Reluctantly you pull back. His eyes stay closed and you press your foreheads together, listening to the crackles of the torches around you. “Your emotions are strong.” You quietly whisper. “But do not let them control you. Let them guide you.”

He blinks his eyes open, full of clarity.

Letting each other go hesitantly, you take one last look at him and he at you. “Come back to me,” you say with all the confidence you can muster.

You can tell you’re both skeptical about your claim, but he nods his head anyway. He walks around you and you don’t turn to look at him leave for fear of wanting to hold him back. You hear the creak of the door, but before he can take another step away from you, you mumble “Give them Hell.”

There’s a slight pause before you start to hear the crunching of the ground beneath him, each step lighter than the last until you can no longer hear him creeping into the night.

Please, you pray. Whatever it takes.

- - - - - -

When you see the money-filled bag hanging on the statue the next day, it’s attached with a note.

His presence overflows through your every pore.

Alpha looks at you with a determined expression on their face, as do the other hijra around them.

It seems they don’t just want repayment, they want a reckoning.

They want retribution.

- - - - - -

A/N: Please let me know what you think by leaving a note, comment, or reblog! Or we can just geek out about Monkey Man lol I definitely won’t be opposed to that lol

#fanfic #x reader #smut #dev patel #fanfiction #fluff #monkey man #monkey man 2024 #monkey man spoilers #the kid #y/n #monkey man fanfiction #monkey man fanfic #the kid x reader #angst #retribution

[sanhwaism]

bf!ateez and that one specific habit they do that highlights their love language

pairing ⟡ bf .ᐟ ot8 x gn .ᐟ reader

genre ⟡ established relationship, romance, fluff

author's note ⟡ haaaaapy valentine's day 💌☁️ not long ago i have reached 100 followers eeek ^_^ so so grateful for every single one of you!! take this as my gift for both this milestone and valentine's day <3 (the specific habit of theirs will be written in italics just so it can be easier to spot hehe)

k. hongjoong — quality time

ah yes, the busy and very hardworking captain :,)

he's aware of the time spent in his studio; composing and producing music are in his nature after all!

so he feels very thankful that you are understanding and always there for him to cheer him up or reassure him that he doesn't have to feel guilty even when he's pulling all nighters there

yet he still feels bad deep down

at the same time he can't abandon his work

so every chance he gets — and i mean EVERY — when he's not that overworked he makes sure to learn about what you're into so he can spend time with you in a way which you'd enjoy the most

whether it's a new game you're into, or a tv show or a book or

the moment you mention it ONCE???? be sure he's taking a mental note and paying the closest attention to it

because he acknowledges that it will be useful for later

no matter what it is, he'll try his best to pick up on it so you can have a great time together

"oh is this the new video game you started playing? guess what i actually got into it as well so we can play it together now!! :D!"

"oh i know you told me about this book you're reading so i bought a copy as well and i started it whenever i took breaks at work!! let's talk about it!! :D!"

sobs

he's genuinely so thoughtful

so yes, knowing how much time he spends away from you makes him want to learn more about your interests so the moment he has you back in his embrace, he will make sure to repay you in the sweetest way possible!

p. seonghwa — words of affirmation

the type of boyfriend that always makes sure you know how great you're doing and how proud he is of you :(

he wouldn't go a day without praising you

if he is away from you because of work, expect a very early morning message from him in which he wishes you a good day ahead, that you will do great no matter what and he hopes you get to eat some yummy food in the meantime

and then later that day more encouraging words to keep you motivated and to also remind you that he loves you dearly

sobbing again

he wants you to tell him every detail about your day so he can praise every single effort you're making out there, no matter how small or insignificant you think it is

he'd tell you that just thinking of you gives him enough energy to go throughout the day

and he'll try his best to comfort you with his magical healing words if there is something you're going through

one thing about seonghwa is that he will validate your feelings no matter what. and that makes you feel so safe and appreciated and so so loved :(((

he's just comfort personified

he feels like hot chocolate served with marshmallows on top in front of the fireplace

if he's home and there are no miles that distance him from you, every single affectionate word that comes out of his mouth sounds even more soft hearted if that's possible

because not only does he know how to pick the best words and when to use them, but also the tone of his voice is just so soft and soothing

and now that no screen separates you both, his praises feel even more meaningful

he'd gently smile while caressing your cheek and whisper that he missed you so much and now that the day is over, everything that you have accomplished makes him so proud <3

j. yunho — physical touch

oh my god

PLEASE listen to me

when i say that i keep seeing those specific cutest clips of yunho that altered my brain chemistry

i mean it

they altered it so badly to the point where my opinion on his love language changed

everything clicks in your head the moment you realize that yunho has been doing this gesture to you after you two got more comfortable with each other

you walk baside him while holding his hand?

all of the sudden you feel his large, soft hand on the top of your head

he looks at you all smiley while you talk to him?

the next second his hand is moving towards the crown of your head, cutely ruffling your hair

you're eating and paying attention to the food before your very eyes?

headpat.

another headpat.

cute little soft headpat

is it the height difference that just makes him unable to control his hand from such sweet gesture?

probably

most certainly, actually

he just can't help it :( one look at how cute you look and you don't even get the chance to finish your sentence be–

yup. headpat!!!!!

it's never enough for him, there are times where he feels the urge to just start speedily yet gently tap the top of your head countless times while your head just bops up and down

the way people do with their pets when the cuteness aggression hits (please tell me you know what i mean)

if you dont i gotchu i provide with visual representation here! (volume warning!!!! its loud!!)

he finds that HILARIOUS and so adorable at the same time

he'd just start giggling and you can't help but enjoy his laugh and playfulness

but if he doesn't stop you're gonna get dizzy a bit so he'll recieve a headpat in return!

... just a more aggressive one

call it a cute bonk ^_^

emotionally prepare yourself not to get TOO affected by his sudden puppy eyes because how dare you do such thing to him :<

apologize with a forehead smooch and he'll get all shy and so cutieful

k. yeosang — acts of service

your personal trainer angel fairy dreamy looking like boyfriend

fondly sighs

yeosang's love for you is so gentle and thoughtful

he's your safe haven

his best way to express his feelings is by making sure you're always taking care of yourself, especially reminding you daily to take your supplements and vitamins!!

one day while you were cuddling him on the couch, you expressed your desire to have a more balanced and healthy lifestyle because he inspires you to do so

that was the moment a big shiny lightbulb lit up above yeosang's head

because he had the perfect idea how to help!! :D

the next day you'd already have in your hands a cute storage vitamin box that he got for you where you can organize your vitamins by days so it can be easier for you :(

of course he has one as well

he is always the one that helps you buy them once you run out

and he'd try his best to do his research based on your preferences and what seems to work best for you

when you tell him how much of a big difference they've been making and how much more energetic you feel, his smile melts your heart

he gets all bashful and giggles to himself, waving his hand as if he doesn't consider that he has done a lot

(well i consider eating him in one bite)

after all, that's what a good boyfriend should do! no biggie!

but yeosang has no idea how much it means to you; for him to always check up in you, to be your daily reminder just in case you forget about the vitamins, to diligently help you achieve the healthy lifestyle you strive for

c. san — physical touch

everyone please act shocked

of course it's physical touch

i feel like i'd commit a crime if i didn't pick it

he's just a cute clingy cat :(

you figured out his love language quite fast, a little bit after you have made your relationship official and gave him your consent

he was shy at first

VERY shy

at first he could feel satisfied enough even with just your hand in his, or a timid hug

honestly he just wanted you near him!

but after some time when both of you got more comfortable with each other and after lots of showers with affection,

he started attacking your cheeks in the cutest way possible

every time he would have you near him, you'd see him suddenly leaning towards one side of you

next second you'd feel the softness of his cheek touching yours

and not only touch

but he would push himself even closer to you if that's possible, smushing your cheeks together while he's pouting

as if he wants to fuse both of your bodies into one because having you like that against him?? clearly isn't enough

also starts gently rubbing it against your own cheek, humming to himself because of how nice the feeling is while his eyes are closed in content

with time you got used to it and even started to like it and look forward to it

(every time i see clips of him doing that to other members i can't help but giggle)

he's just the cutest <3

no one cats the way san cats

s. mingi — quality time

the type of boyfriend that if he could, he would attach you to his hip like a lucky charm forever and ever

because you always bring him luck, inspiration and hope whenever he has you near him :(

he feels a bit lost in your absence, always looking for ways to hear from you one way or another

so a lot of times when you two would blissfully share each other's space, mingi would ask you to attend his dancing practice, so you can witness what impressive moves he came up with and what choreographies he has been working on ^^

he is truly sososososo talented

and you'd just watch him with your lips slightly parted, amazement written all over your face as your eyes would follow the way his flexible body moves like water, with such calculated and striking motions

or other times, when he'd willingly share his personal space with you in his studio where he worked on so many new instrumentals and demos that might be useful for the group's future releases or his solo projects

every minute he would turn his head towards you just so he could catch a glimpse of your face expression

and he would smile to himself as he'd gaze at the endearing way you enjoy the rhythm and overall vibe of the music

his eyes would start sparkling in the dim lighting as you praise his efforts and works

and the biggest, cutest smile would adorn his bare face

sobs mingi.. mingi!! ^__^ mingi :3 MINGI!!!!!!!!

from that moment on, he only grows more confident to have you partake in any type of project he's crafting

you soon realize that you're the only one that gets this treatment

that's how big of an effect you have on song mingi. and he loves you dearly. always share your feedback and space with him. pretty please with a cherry on top <3

he said that not me

j. wooyoung — BITING gift giving

sorry let me get serious

WOOYOUNG.

this man emanates love through every single pore so it was SO hard to pick only one love language

but it had to be done!

he's typically in his sugar baby era

but when it comes to you????????

i hope you're prepared to get spoiled ^^

his love for you is just too strong

but so is his credit card!

even before both of you confessed to each other, wooyoung had been giving you subtle hints that he was having a crush on you

and a lot of his hints were consisting mostly in him buying something for you

you eyed a cute plushie through the shop's window?

"waa, wooyoung, this plushie is so cute don't you think!!!!"

wooyoung thinks that he is buying it for you!!!!!

and you know what

he's getting two plushies actually, because they remind him of you and him

once he steps out of the shop, he hands the plushie to you with the cutest smile plastered on his lips and a twinkle in his eyes

"look, it's us," he exclaims as he brings his plushie close to the one in your hands and, to your utter surprise, makes them aggressively kiss.

(i just made myself SO devastated by writing that oh my god)

that was actually the day you two admitted having a crush on each other

from that day on, wooyoung's need to spoil you only grew

he'd want to match with you not only when it comes to a pair of plushies or ten, but clothes as well

not those that are SO visibly matching, instead more subtle ones that sort of compliment each other's looks and make you two match perfectly, like two puzzle pieces :,)

yes, wooyoung would be the one that would buy the clothes for you and surprise you with soooo many bags in front of your door, so excited for you to try on everything

he's whipped! can you blame him :(

you are his happiness and he wouldn't have it any other way, you deserve every single gift, end of discussion!!

c. jongho — acts of service

the acts of service king

i said what i said!!

also the king of americanos yup yup iktr!

speaking of americano coffee :>

in the beginning of your relationship with jongho, you'd often have dates at the prettiest, comfiest cafes in town

you'd both order your usual drink of choice, and whenever you'd get coffee, he would pay extra attention to what type of coffee is it so he can get a cup for you next time and impress you with it

not just coffee but shh this is about coffee shh

after some time, you took the relationship to the next level, moving in together;

and whenever jongho had to leave earlier than you for his schedule, the mornings would smell like the best freshly made coffee you had ever smelled

because your sweet and attentive boyfriend would try his best to copy the recipe of your favorite coffee drink

from scratch as well

grinding the best coffee beans he could find into grounds

using water heated between 195°F-205°F

aiming for a total brew time between 3-5 minutes

like this is serious for him.

because he NEEDS it to be perfect and he NEEDS to cutely brag about it and he NEEDS to make you feel very pleased!

"hey, y/n, would you like some coffee?"

"no, thank youuu, my boyfriend made me the best cup of coffee this morning !!"

he would also leave a lovely note next to the mug :(

what more could you ask for. seriously.

you're gonna have some people become jealous but hey! choi jongho THE choi jongho chose you <3 and you will always be the only one he would make coffee for, from scratch, at the first glow of the sunrise

you are the apple of his eye

the only apple he would never break in half

see what i did there :D

𓏲 ࣪₊♡ taglist: @yuyusuyu

{💌ྀི} masterlist.

#ria.snhw #ria!drabble ateez #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez headcanons #ateez x gender neutral reader #ateez x you #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader

[artemis32]

Duplicity

Dabi / Touya Todoroki x reader (ft. Tomura Shigaraki & Keigo Takami)

****

First fic in yonks, and it's a dark one (seriously. read the warnings)

i have three other fics i'm working on that i'm hoping to have done in the next week or two :))

word count - 7.5k

tw: dark content, noncon / dubcon (mostly noncon), (pseudo) incest??, yandere, threesome, gangbang, vaginal sex, oral sex (both m and f receiving), throat fucking, slapping (not in a sexy way), praise, degradation, they're all pretty mean, voyeurism, choking (not in a sexy way), Dabi is called Touya pretty much the entire fic, and he has a Jacob's ladder, the big dick Shiggy agenda continues, violence, creampie, no protection (wrap it before you tap it kids), chasing, Touya has a thing for tits, some head injury (reader should really have that checked out), Keigo's kinda just there for the vibes tbh

bnha masterlist

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

The mumble is dejected, barely uttered under your breath, and promptly followed by a heavy huff.

Your day had been hell personified, to put it lightly. 

A slew of unfortunate events had been what made up your day, bad luck from the moment you’d opened your eyes that morning - late, might I add.

All of your bad luck had culminated into what had probably been the worst day of your life, and to top it all off, you’d been forced to walk home in the rain. Twenty minutes of trudging down a bunch of empty streets saw your already terrible mood plummet, becoming ten times worse.

You’d been looking forward to the day’s end - all you wanted was to get home, for some peace and quiet and whatever leftovers you could find shoved in the back of the fridge. 

That’s why, right now, you feel yourself itching with barely concealed irritation.

There, sat far too comfortably on the sofa, was your brother.

Step brother.

As if you’d ever call that waste of space your brother.

Worse still was the fact that he had two of his creep-fest friends with him.

That wasn’t what annoyed you, although you hated that they had decided to spend their time here instead of elsewhere.

No, what annoyed you most was-

“You couldn’t have picked me up? I had to walk in the rain. Twenty minutes Touya!”

He glances over at you, barely registering your words, his attention more focused on the game he’s playing with one of his friends - the blue haired one who has a habit of seemingly undressing you with his eyes everytime you see him.

You shiver in slight disgust as he eyes you up.

“And? How’s that my problem?”

You groan in frustration, kicking off your shoes in the entryway and stomping up the stairs towards your room. 

“Fucking stupid, waste of space, dumbass, idiot - I’ll shove that damn controller up your ass.”

You take a deep breath, calming yourself. 

It’s fine. This is fine. 

After you’ve calmed yourself and changed out of your soaked clothing, you head downstairs again, pausing on the landing to stare out the window.

The rain pelts down in thick sheets, so heavy you can barely see beyond the window.

You preoccupy yourself with grabbing something to eat, shoving a few slices of leftover pizza onto a plate and into the microwave. While it heats up, a thought hits you and you head back to the living room.

“Hey Touya, when’re mom and dad getting home?”

He doesn’t answer. You wait a while, thinking he’s preoccupied. 

Still nothing.

You ask again.

“Touya-”

“Fucking hell!” he yells, slamming his hand down on the coffee table. 

The screen flashes as his character dies and Shigaraki snickers next to him.

Touya turns to glower at you.

“Stop bothering me.”

You roll your eyes.

“When’s dad getting home?”

He leans back, flicking at the controller as another round starts up. Shigaraki hands his controller over to Keigo, or Hawks as his friends mockingly call him.

“Eh? He’s not coming home. Him and your mom left for a business trip this morning - didn’t they tell you?”

You still.

A business trip?

You hum out a distracted thanks, heading back into the kitchen as the microwave blares. You grab the still-hot plate before heading back up to your room, crawling under the pile of blankets on your bed.

****

You put the thought of your parents and their last minute business trip out of your mind. Instead, you think about other things.

Like the fact that Touya refused to call your mom ‘mom’.

You didn’t blame him, per se. In fact, it was probably better that he didn’t.

It was just strange - Shouto, Fuyumi and Natsuo all called your mom theirs, so it was always jarring to hear Touya call her ‘your mom’, or even worse, by her first name. But it never seemed to bother her, so you never mentioned it.

It wasn’t as if he was even around often enough for it to be a big deal. 

Mostly, he stayed with one of his friends, coming home only when no one else was around or if he needed a change of clothes.

It was an arrangement that suited everyone, though your father never seemed to appreciate his son’s flighty nature.

Whatever, it was none of your business.

All you knew was that whenever he was around, he made your life a living hell.

Before your mom had married his dad, you’d never had any siblings, so the only image you had of that type of relationship before was the stuff you’d seen on tv. 

Shouto and Natsuo were nice enough, adopting you as their younger sister. You’d joined their family early enough that it felt as if they really were your siblings - you were barely four years old at the time, two years younger than Shouto.

Fuyumi had smothered you in the beginning, coddling and cooing at you like a pet. 

Once the novelty had worn off, she’d become somewhat of a normal older sister, though still far more affectionate than what you expected.

Touya though - he avoided you like the plague, at least for the first few years after you’d been forced to live together. Sometime after your tenth birthday though, he’d turned into your own personal tormentor, teasing you like some stereotypical middle school bully, pulling at your hair, tripping you while you walked up the stairs, locking you in the basement if you went down alone to get something out of your dad’s office. Once or twice, he even managed to get you into a headlock, letting up only once you were seconds away from passing out.

It was horrible, and your siblings stepped in wherever they could.

He seemed to lose interest after a while, settling on slinging insults your way whenever he was near. Eventually even that seemed to lose its appeal, and, as of late, he’d gone back to ignoring your very existence, as he had when you’d first met.

It might have hurt your feelings, if you’d had any type of relationship with him. Now, you were just thankful he wasn’t trying to wrestle you to the ground whenever he saw you.

Your musings are cut short by a loud clap of thunder, and you flinch as the windows rattle.

Thunder never bothered you, but the storm seemed to be getting worse, and in the back of your mind, you registered that Shouto still wasn’t home.

You fidget with the blanket on your lap for a few more moments, trying and failing to distract yourself with your phone. You find yourself tapping Shouto’s contact, calling him before you can think twice.

Most of the time, you were concerned your siblings would find you clingy and annoying, as Touya had no problem reminding you, but you cared for them, and that meant you fretted over every little thing.

You pull at a loose thread on your sweater while the line rings, staring vacantly out the window as rain continues to streak down, blurring the view of the garden.

Will it flood? They might have mentioned something on the weather report this morning. I really should start paying more attention.

“Hello?”

You lurch forward. “Shouto? Hey, what’s up?”

He greets you, asking why you called.

“Well, you aren’t home yet and the weather’s looking pretty bad. I just- I was wondering if you’re coming home tonight?”

If you were talking to anyone else, you’d be worried about sounding pathetic - needy.

But it’s your brother. Your older brother who loves you and would never mock you for your concern.

He hums before answering. “Oh, yeah, I forgot to let you know, I’m staying over at Midoriya’s tonight. We have a project to work on and it’s just easier to stay here for the night.”

“Oh,” you say.

There’s a long pause, neither of you saying anything for a long moment.

“Okay, I just- um, wanted to check in.”

You take a deep breath, pulling yourself together.

“Well, have a good night. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He’s about to put the phone down while you scramble to keep him on the line.

“Wait!” you exclaim, “Mom and dad are away on a business trip”

“Yes, I know,” he says evenly. 

There ‘s another pause. 

“Natsuo should be home soon though - his classes ended about half an hour ago, so you won’t be alone,” he reassures you.

“Okay,” you say, sighing through your nose. “Okay, I- goodnight Sho, see you tomorrow.”

He bids you goodnight once more before ending the call. 

You stay still, not moving from your spot for a long moment.

The truth…

The truth was that you weren’t exactly comfortable being alone in the house with Touya. Well, Touya and his friends.

Not that he’d ever done anything beyond bullying you, but - well, you hadn’t been alone with him for more than ten minutes since you were seven years old, and you weren’t eager to try your luck.

Bruises healed, but his scathing words took longer to soothe.

You shake your head.

No. 

No, grow up - there’s no need to be so scared. It’s just for one night. And besides, I can just stay in my room and he’ll stay downstairs. Far away from me. And Natsuo will be here. I won’t be alone.

This is fine. 

It’s fine.

****

After taking your dishes to the kitchen, you make your way back upstairs and head to the bathroom you and Shouto share, locking the door before stripping and jumping into the shower.

The hot water helps work the knots out of your neck, and you sigh heavily as you stand under the jets of water. 

After scrubbing your hair and body, you leave the shower and brush your teeth. Enveloping yourself in a massive towel, you unlock the door and pad over to your bedroom. 

A hot shower had unsurprisingly done wonders for your mood, and you felt much better now. Although, a part of you wished you’d properly relaxed and taken a bath instead - you were sure your muscle aches would be a thing of the past if you had.

You stop short in the middle of the hall.

The door is ajar. Your door.

You’d shut it. 

Before you went to the bathroom, before you’d gone downstairs to the kitchen, you had shut your door.

Hands shaking, you reach for the handle and push it open.

Nothing.

It’s empty.

You sigh through your nose, closing the door behind you and heading over to your closet.

After changing into your pyjamas - sleep shorts that could just as easily pass as underwear for how short they were, and a ridiculously oversized shirt, stolen from either your father or Natsuo - you head over to the hamper in the corner of your room, dropping your towel into it and-

You let out a strangled sound, and it dies in the back of your throat as you freeze with your hand still outstretched.

Laundry was a chore you kept up to date with at all times, preferring to keep your clothing separate from the rest of your family. 

You tended to wash your underwear in a separate load too, so it often took longer to get to. 

That being said, you were supposed to do a load today, and there, on top of the full hamper, was a pair of panties.

Your favourite pair.

The lacy white undergarment lay crumpled up, discarded in a hurry. And it was covered in something thick - both creamy and white.

You feel yourself gag.

Anger- No, rage blinds you as you move to the door.

****

You storm downstairs, unthinking as you march into the livingroom and stand with crossed arms in front of the TV, ignoring the indignant yells that follow as both Tomura and Keigo die in the game. 

“You’re disgusting.” You spit out, your words venomous and your tone scathing as you keep a tight grip on your soiled underwear.

Touya regards you with a bored, uninterested look, pausing for the briefest moment to eye the panties crumpled in your hand. The two other men take the unprompted disruption as their chance to take a break, Tomura standing up and heading towards the bathroom.

“Hm? Did someone upset the poor sensitive baby?” He asks in a mocking tone, rolling his eyes as he holds out a hand for the controller.

“You and your disgusting degenerate friends are the ones who upset me. Stay out of my room, and keep your goddamn dicks in your pants.” You snap scornfully, glaring down at him.

He pauses, his eyes narrowing as he sits straight and leans forward, his voice dropping an octave as he stares you down intently.

“What?”

You scoff and roll your eyes. “Don’t ‘what’ me, you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Tomura returns from his trip to the bathroom, flopping down on the couch with a grunt as he restarts the game, craning his neck to peer around you at the TV.

“No. I don’t. What the fuck are you talking about?” 

“I’m talking about the literal cumstain one of you left on my underwear. Just because none of you have ever felt the touch of a woman doesn’t mean I appreciate you using my underwear to get your rocks off.”

His eyes lighten in amusement at the words, and the smug smirk he wears as he glances at his friends makes your blood boil.

“The kitchen, huh Shiggs? You dirty freak.”

Somehow, you don’t think the words are meant as an insult. The three laugh, ignoring you completely. Keigo even claps the blue haired reprobate on the shoulder in an almost congratulatory gesture.

Rage roars in your ears, and any sense of civility evaporates as you glare at them.

“I’m telling my mom.”

The words, however childish they may be, slip out before you can stop them. It’s all you can think to say at that moment.

Touya pauses, wrinkling his nose in an expression similar to disgust as he scoffs.

“Your mother? Ha, fuck off, I don’t care what she thinks. She’s not my mother. She’s nothing. She’s a brainless bimbo whose only purpose is to spread her legs for my asshat father.”

The words sting more than they should, considering you know they’re not true, and you bite back, uncaring of how you might hurt him as the words spill out of you, trembling hands clenched so tightly your nails dig into your palms, drawing blood.

“Yeah, well, at least she actually loves me. It’s more than you can say for your mother. And at least the rest of the family actually want me around. Fuck, at least Dad looks at me- he’s too disappointed in you to even look at your face.”

Tomura and Keigo’s reactions tell you everything you need to know. You just fucked up. Royally. 

The only sound besides the constant battering of rain against the large windows is the sharp intake of breath from Touya’s two friends, and they sit deadstill, staring between the two of you as they wait with bated breath for Touya’s response.

He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t look at you. He doesn’t even move.

The room seems frozen in time. No one moves, no words are spoken to break the silence.

You move. The smallest of steps, a miniscule shuffle to the side, towards the staircase.

It seems that’s all he needed. 

Touya is on his feet in an instant, darting towards you, but you’re already making a mad dash for the stairs.

He tackles you down before you’ve even made it halfway, grabbing your ankle and jerking you closer midstep. Your forehead collides painfully with the edge of a step and you let out a pained, strangled whimper. 

Much of what Touya tells his friends is lost to the ringing in your head. All you really register is him picking you up, feeling near weightless as he carries you past the living room, his friends’ leering gazes digging into your scalp as the two of you descend into the basement.

Your attempt at wriggling out of his arms is pathetic and half-hearted, and when you try to grab at the door frame to halt his movement, he cruelly twists your wrists, his expression unchanging at your cry of pain.

The last thing you see before the basement door closes is the enraptured gleam in Tomura’s eyes.

****

You weren’t ever really allowed in the basement, not that you had a reason to enter the restricted space.

Regardless, you never wanted to be down there. It was cold, and dark, and it sent a stab of unbridled panic down your spine. It only really contained your father’s old office space and a spare bedroom which had been used as a storage space for the better part of the last twelve years. All in all, it was an empty, forgotten space.

The handful of times you’d been down there never ended well.

And as usual, the problems had to do with Touya. 

Always Touya.

He’d locked you down there for hours once, before it had become essentially abandoned.

You’d been five years old, still young and believing the best of him. He’d told you it had been a game of hide-and-seek.

Only, you’d spent the better part of eight hours screaming and sobbing, completely unheard in the soundless backroom of the basement. You’d passed out on the bed sometime after the six hour mark, sleeping soundly until you were found.

Your mother had been in a panic by the time she’d found you, letting out relieved sobs of her own as she scooped you up into her arms and cradled you against her chest soothingly.

Your parents had thought, completely unaware of the truth, that you’d strayed down there alone and managed to lock yourself in. Since that moment, you’d been banned from wandering into the basement by yourself.

Similar things had happened over the years, and unsurprisingly, Touya had been the root cause of many of the problems you’d dealt with.

Presently, he tosses you uncaringly on the bed, scoffing in bored amusement as you scramble over the bed and huddle against the headboard.

Despite your earlier brashness in confronting him, you were terrified. The reality of the situation had set in, and you felt your stomach roil as Touya stared you down with heavy lidded eyes, his gaze contemplative as he scans your half-bare body.

You’d seen that look before, and it made your skin crawl. It terrified you.

It was how Tomura looked at you when he brazenly palmed the bulge in his pants.

How stupid of you, marching downstairs and confronting three grown men, as if you had any chance of winning an argument. You wished you’d had the forethought to at least put on a proper pair of pants.

You swallow thickly, clenching your trembling hands into tight fists as you straighten your spine, attempting to appear calm and unaffected.

“Okay Touya, you’ve made your point. You can stop now, I-I won’t tell anyone.”

It’s an effort to swallow your pride, but you manage the words through gritted teeth, bowing your head as you continue. 

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry for being, uh- For being mean.”

Touya rolls his eyes as he leans forward and grips your ankle tightly, his palm calloused and warm, pulling you closer in one quick jerk, your ass teetering on the edge of the bed. “Imoto…” he trails off, his tone far too sultry for the situation, caressing the inner side of your ankle with his thumb, stroking the soft skin as he tilts his head, deep in thought. 

His grip tightens again, to an almost painful extent, and you suppress a cry as the delicate bones of your ankle groan under the pressure. His voice is cold and condescending as he speaks.

“You’re so stupid.”

You lean further back as he hovers over you, surveying you with flat, emotionless eyes. 

“I don’t care that you were mean. Just like I don’t care if you tell anyone. I don’t care if they believe you either. You know why? Because no one will do anything,” he whispers, toying with the hem of your shirt as he regards you with cool indifference.

“I could do anything I wanted, and no one would say a thing. In fact, I will do what I want… Do you know what I want?”

You shake your head, hesitant and silent in your state of panic.

“Aw, imoto, you know you shouldn’t lie to your big brother,” he murmurs patronisingly, gripping the hem of your shirt as he slowly lifts it up, leaving it to rest just above your bare breasts.

His pupils are blown wide as his hand trails down your waist, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“Y’know, you’re pretty grown now, aren't ya? I wonder… Have you let anyone touch you yet?” 

He hums to himself, not pressing you for an answer as he continues in a stupor, seemingly unaware of your silent horror. You’re completely frozen, too shocked to move, to speak, to do anything. You can’t even bring yourself to lower your shirt as you listen in abject horror as he continues on.

“I really hope you haven’t. Not that it really matters… Touya-nii will take real good care of you, don’t you worry… It’s about time I treat that bad attitude of yours too.”

You’re frozen in disbelief and fear, completely paralysed as he shoves a leg between yours, keeping them open as he shifts his grip from your ankle to your hips.

The stupor is short-lived, and your struggles renew twofold as he paws at your clothed cunt. There’s a satisfying thwack sound as your foot connects with his jaw, though the sense of victory quickly fizzes out within the long bout of dead silence. Touya tilts his head to the side staring at the wall blankly, and after a few long moments, he moves, slowly facing forward again, rubbing his jaw, seemingly completely ignoring you as he works his jaw.

He huffs, the sound reminiscent of an amused scoff as he looks down at you with rage simmering in his eyes.

“Like I said: You’re so fucking stupid.”

You don’t see the slap coming. All you register is the blurred sight of his arm flying towards you, his numerous rings glinting in the lowlight of the room, and the sudden burn of his backhand striking you across the face. A short, surprised huff is all you can manage, the sharp taste of blood and the stinging pain of rapidly developing welts on your cheek distracting you from reacting.

A trembling palm presses to your tender cheek, and you look up at him with shocked eyes.

“You… hit me.”

He lets out a sardonic laugh, rolling his eyes as he clicks his tongue and caresses your cheek, condescending in his tone.

“Aw, my sweet little sister. You sound so surprised. If I’d known you were such a baby, maybe I’d have taken my rings off for you. Here-”

He pauses, pulling away as he discards his rings haphazardly, turning to frame your face with his calloused palms. His eyes soften slightly as he looks down at you, caressing your tender, reddened cheek for a moment, his fingers lovingly stroking the warm flesh before digging into the fat of your cheeks and his gaze hardens. 

The next slap feels worse than the previous, if that’s even possible.

You’re still reeling from the rough strikes, jolting out of your daze as you feel Touya’s palms ghost over the inside of your thighs. 

His gaze is focused and razor sharp as he soaks in the sight of your scantily clad core, his palms encasing the tender, soft flesh of your thighs. 

Squirming uncomfortably does nothing as he pins your hips down, shifting to kneel on the floor before the bed, yanking you closer and throwing your legs over his shoulders.

Dread drops into your stomach like a stone, making your head spin. As badly as you try to keep them at bay, tears bubble up, dripping down your temples as you sniffle, staring up at the ceiling as you beg.

“Stop– Stop!” You wail panickedly, thrashing beneath him, making no attempts to disguise your sobs. “Stop or I’ll tell Dad!” 

He lifts his head from where it was descending between your legs, grinning wickedly at the words.

“Dad? Aw, you sweet, innocent thing. He’d do the exact same thing if he could. Where do you think I get it from, huh?” he says mockingly, condescending as he slaps your cheek lightly before moving back to his previous position, his mouth dangerously close to your centre despite your tightly clenched thighs.

“Come on now, open up for me. It’ll only hurt more if I have to make you.”

A pleading whine is all you can manage as you shake your head, keeping your legs pressed together.

His eyes turn cold at that, all playfulness and teasing leaving him in an instant. He cruelly digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your thighs and huffs in annoyance at your yelp of pain, leaning forward as you jerk your legs apart from the pressure.

A moment later, his warm mouth envelopes your clothed sex.

Your hips jolt, and you gasp in surprise, eyes wide and rounded as you stare down at his bowed head between your legs.

This… This was wrong. So wrong. 

Even if you didn’t like him, even if you were loathed to admit it- He was your brother.

Your brother.

“Touya… Stop, please. Please,” you beg quietly, your voice quivering with effort as you reach down to his head, intent on pushing his face away.

You don’t get very far.

His grip is like a vice on your wrist, and he doesn’t look up and he squeezes down painfully, tutting in mock disappointment.

“Did your mother never teach you it’s bad manners to interrupt someone’s meal?” he murmurs, not looking up at you as he massages your hips, hooking his fingers over the hem of your sleep shorts.

It’s torturous. A sick, twisted punishment, the way his focus is wholly dedicated to undressing you.

Shame floods your chest, burning up your neck and over your ears.

He pulls your shorts down, inch by inch until you’re exposed to him, shivering in the cold, stagnant air of the basement. He looks up at you then, regarding you with cool indifference as he kneads the fat of your thighs.

“Itadakimasu,” he purrs softly before descending on you.

A breathy, strangled garble is all you can manage as he licks a smooth, confident stripe up your slit, twirling his tongue lightly around the bud of your clit before returning to your cunt.

His tongue is teasing, punishing as he laps at your core, slurping loudly as if to humiliate you. It works, tears of shame burning your eyes as he pulls away after a few minutes to stare up at you with an appraising eye.

“Someone’s enjoying this, hm? Look at how worked up I’ve got ya…” he hums softly, shifting his hand to rub tight circles on your clit as he stares you down.

“You’re a disgusting whore, getting off on this. Like mother, like daughter, huh?”

The words snap something inside of you, and you decide in that moment, you want to hurt him- kill him. Gouge his eyes out and shove them down his throat.

“I hate you.”

You glower and slap him across the face with as much force as you can muster, not giving him a moment to react as you kick his shoulder, sending him careening back before you jump off the bed, yanking your shirt down in the process.

Though you try to sprint for the door, your relief is short lived.

At least the floor is carpeted here, you think gratefully, sparing your head the aching reverberation as your skull bounces off the ground for the second time that evening.

He wrestles you onto your back, keeping you pinned with frightening ease.

You realise in that moment, he’d been allowing you to put up a fight. Though he seemed somewhat lanky at first glance, his torso and arms were corded with muscles. Muscles he used to keep you restrained beneath him as he ripped off your shirt, tearing through it like paper and leaving you stark naked beneath him. Your struggles had been little more than a game to him, one which he’d played along with all evening.

Screams and pleas fall on deaf ears as he snarls down at you, hatred simmering in his eyes. A thin trail of blood drips down from his cheekbone and onto your bare chest, the scratch on his face red and angry from where you’d struck him.

“I was going to be nice, get you all prepped and ready, maybe even give you an orgasm or two. But you’re such an ungrateful fucking whore,” he spits, wrapping his hand around your throat to quieten your wails.

When you continue struggling, thrashing beneath him with flailing limbs, he lifts you up slightly by your throat before slamming you down, knocking the last of your breath from your lungs. 

“Now, here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to punish you for that little stunt just now, and then I’ll let my friends upstairs have their way with you too. It’s the least you could do after you were so rude to them, hm?”

You have no words left. No hateful insults, no pleas, no threats, nothing.

All you can do is cry soundlessly as he unbuckles his belt, the metal clinking as he yanks it off and shoves his pants down his thighs, lining himself up with your mostly unprepped entrance.

He slaps your cheek lightly, shaking your head as you try to dissociate from reality.

“Nuh uh, none of that now. I want you here. Pay attention,” he hisses, gripping your jaw tightly before shifting his palm back down to your neck, his grip bruising and painful.

A pained squeak is all the noise you can manage, clawing at his hand on your throat as his cock shoves into your core.

It’s agonising, painful, feeling him force his way into you, violating you.

His hips jerk forward in short spurts, fighting against the resistance of your unprepared core with every stroke, his Jacob’s ladder rubbing your walls raw with each vicious stoke. Tears dampen your temples, burning your eyes, and you wait for the pain to subside as he pushes in to the hilt and stops with a puff, his breathing evening out after a long moment.

The two of you lay there in silence, and you suck in a shuddering, wheezing breath as he released the column of your throat. His hand travels down your bare body, coming to rest on your pubic bone as he uses his thumb to massage tight circles into your clit.

His ministrations leave your legs quaking, and your orgasm overtakes you without warning, slamming into you like a tidal wave as you whine and arch your back off the ground, begging him in broken babbles to stop.

Your pleas fall on deaf ears, and he seems to double down, grinning cruelly as he continues to flick your swollen clit.

“Come on now, you can give me one more,” he coaxes teasingly.

And you do. You cum again, your walls fluttering around his cock as your eyes roll back in your head. 

His fingers stop their tortuous movements while you pant, but you’re not granted a reprieve as he grips your hips, lifting them slightly to position the back of your ass on the top of his thighs. He jerks his hips forward, snickering as you gasp and whine before drawing his hips back and slamming forward.

The movement makes your breasts bounce, and he immediately sets an arduous pace.

You dig your fingertips into the carpet beneath you, clinging onto it for dear life as he fucks his way deeper into you, pressing your thighs to your chest. 

The noises you let out are disgraceful, moans and whines that would put a pornstar to shame, but your mind feels blank, empty of all thoughts besides the feeling of his cock filling you up, the mind numbing massage of his piercing against your gummy walls.

Touya isn’t much better off. His bottom lip is caught between his teeth and his brow is furrowed, twitching as he grunts and moans each time he bottoms out inside you, feeling your walls suck him in deeper with each stroke. You’re both covered in a light sheen of sweat, panting heavily and trembling with the exertion, and your cheeks still shine with tears.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs. “My sweet little sister, nothing but a dumb little cumslut. What would everyone say if they could see you now, huh?”

His words are hateful and meant to hurt you, but you can’t think, can’t respond in anything but breathless moans as he pulls you closer and picks up the pace. 

“Say thank you. Say ‘thank you big brother for making me cum’. Say it.” 

He’s as demanding as ever, tweaking your nipples in punishment when you make no attempt to respond, insead laying dumb and drool covered beneath him.

“Say it,” he orders you.

“T-Thank you- fuck- thank you Touya.”

He scoffs, slapping your tits with an open palm.

“Thank you Touya-nii,” he corrects you, squishing your cheeks together with one palm as he shakes your head back and forth.

“Thank you Touya-nii,” you whine, writhing beneath him.

He rewards you by leaning forward and spitting into your squished open mouth, clamping his palm over your mouth as you gag and try to spit it out.

“Ah ah, swallow.”

You do.

He pats your cheek in a gesture that seems almost loving, shifting his fingers down to your clit once more.

“You wanna cum again? Wanna cum on your big brother’s cock?”

It’s a rhetorical question, he’s already forcing you over the edge for the third time that evening, leaving you a twitching, overstimulated mess beneath him.

"It was me, by the way. I used your underwear- I came to tell you Natsuo wouldn't be home tonight, but instead all I find is some lacy white shit."

He chuckles at your horrified expression, groaning at the feeling of your fluttering walls.

“-’m gonna fill you up,” he grunts to himself, gripping your thighs, digging his nails into the tender flesh as he uses your body.

His words fill you with cold dread, but you don’t have time to interject before he stills with a throaty groan, slumping over you as his cock twitches inside you and warmth floods your belly.

“F-Fuck, so good-” he mumbles into your chest as he presses kisses against your tits, still grinding into you as your walls twitch pathetically around him.

He huffs a spiteful laugh at the whine you let out as he pulls out of you, his cum dribbling out of your spent cunt. He lightly slaps your cunt, smirking as your legs twitch, before he sits back on his haunches and tucks his now limp dick back in his pants.

“Up. Get on the bed.”

Your mind, somewhat coherent once more, is in a frenzy.

What the fuck had you just done.

This was wrong. So, so wrong.

What would your parents say? What would your siblings say?

Oh God, if they saw this, saw you…

You feel sick, your stomach roiling as you sit up, shoulders shaking with cold realisation.

Another harsh slap to the face pulls you out of your panicked reverie.

Touya looms above you with cold eyes and an unimpressed expression.

“Get on the fucking bed. Right now. We’re not done here.”

You know by now that fighting is useless. He was so much bigger and stronger than you, so easily able to subdue you. Not to mention the other two men upstairs-

No. Please no.

But your suspicions are confirmed as Touya walks to the door and leaves the room, coming back a moment later with his two friends in tow and a cruel smirk on his face, tutting mockingly at the anguish on your face.

“I did warn you. You have to apologise for your bad manners. Come on sweetie, be a good girl for them, yeah?”

None of them wait for a response, both Keigo and Tomura pulling their aching, leaking cocks from their pants as they hover above you, leering down like a pack of hyenas. 

Touya doesn’t slap you when you try to dissociate this time, content to let his friends use you while he lounges in the armchair in the corner of the room, watching with a disinterested expression. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he seemed bored.

Keigo seems to have some sick fascination with your mouth, shoving his cock down your throat without warning or preparation and letting out a throaty moan as your throat convulses around him.

His palm remains locked around your neck, watching with rapt attention as your throat works awkwardly around the thick intrusion.

You’re almost thankful for the distraction of his cock, for the way Touya had stretched you out minutes prior, when you see the length bobbing between Tomura’s legs.

How it was possible for someone to be that big, you didn’t want to know. 

Your eyes remain transfixed in muted panic on the monstrous member as Tomura makes his way around the bed, propping you up on your knees before he spits on your cunt.

The feeling of a fat glob of spit hitting your entrance and sliding down the length of your slit makes you cringe, shivering in disgust at his actions. You’re not given a moment's warning before you feel the fat head of his cock rubbing against your entrance, trying to pry its way into your tight heat.

A panicked, muffled garble escapes you as you jerk forward, only serving to fit more of Keigo’s length down your throat in your attempt of escape.

Tomura lets out a hiss of displeasure, digging his fingertips into the fat of your hips as he jerks you back towards him, forcing the head of his cock into your pussy.

It hurts, you want to say. It won’t fit, please.

But you can’t. All you can do is choke down gags and sobs as Tomura rips through you. Everytime you think he’s bottomed out, he just keeps going. He keeps going until it feels like he’s pushed through your cervix, until he sits snugly in your stomach. 

He doesn’t give you a chance to catch your breath, doesn’t grant you the smallest of breaks like Touya did. Instead, he immediately sets a harsh, forceful pace, and each stroke feels like a punch to the gut.

From his spot in the corner of the room, Touya lets out a low whistle, leaning forward with his forearms resting on his knees.

“Look at ya. You’re loving this, aren’t ya? Hm, if I’d have known being dicked down was all you needed to shut up, I’d have done it ages ago.”

His words flow in one ear and out the other, your sole focus on not choking around Keigo’s length as he bottoms out and keeps you pinned in place with his palm planted on the back of your head.

As much as you try to ignore it, his throaty, vocal moans make your core clench around Tomura who scoffs. “You were right, she really is a whore. I can feel her sucking me in.” Touya only hums in response, watching now with an almost enthralled expression as his two friends plough into you simultaneously. “You probably love this, hah? Dumb little slut.” 

The swat he places on your ass leaves a stinging red welt on the smooth flesh.

You’re too lost in the unwanted pleasure to even think about responding. You let your mind wander elsewhere, losing yourself in the toe curling sensation of Tomura’s dick rubbing up against your walls, filling you completely.

Maybe if you pretend it’s someone else, anyone else-

You cum so hard you black out for a moment, losing any and all sensation in your hands and feet as your limbs fill with a strange fuzzy feeling. Your orgasm was so sudden, so unexpected and all-consuming that you struggle to keep yourself conscious and up on all fours, arms and legs trembling as Tomura whines through his teeth.

Keigo grips your hair at the roots, bringing your attention back to his cock as he moans, tilting his head back and flooding your throat with his cum without warning.

He tuts, pulling out of your mouth with a sigh and tapping your chin with his fingers.

“Be a big girl and swallow now, will ya?”

You wince, grimacing as you swallow down his thick, salty seed.

His smirk is devious as he pats your cheek, zipping up his pants and walking over to Touya. He leans down and whispers something in his ear, though their conversation is lost to you as Tomura flattens your chest against the mattress and picks up his pace.

You can’t stop your tongue from lolling out your mouth as he rails into you, your drool forming a puddle beneath you, soaking into the cream duvet. All you can manage is breathless, whiny moans - the only sound in the room besides his own grunts, the slick pattering of your cunt, and the banging of the headboard against the wall.

The thick duvet lays twisted beneath your fingers, and you cling to it desperately as Tomura pants above you like a dog in heat, using your cunt like some glorified fleshlight.

By the time Tomura finishes inside you, you’ve climaxed twice more. He collapses on your back, breathless as he licks a stripe up the ridges of your sweaty spine.

You’re too exhausted to even whine or wrinkle your nose in disgust. It’s all you can do to fight from passing out, puffing from the exertion.

Goosebumps cover you as the sweat cools on your skin, leaving you shivering and sticky.

Touya approaches the bed, murmuring something to Tomura, who grumbles and gets off of you with a grunt before ambling out of the room.

Once only the two of you are left in the thin silence, Touya speaks. His voice is little more than a low murmur as he crouches down next to you, softly brushing the sweaty strands of hair off your face.

“You look so pretty like this. All vulnerable and used… I hope you know how this changes things. You’re mine now. All mine.”

The sentiment makes your stomach curl. If he sees the cold dread on your exhausted face, he doesn’t comment on it, instead pressing a soft, small kiss to your temple.

“Come on, I’ll carry you to your room.”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, lifting you off the bed with ease before leaving the basement and making his way through the house, to your room. The sight of the soft, baby pink walls feel surreal after the past few hours. You feel as if you’re violating the clean, pure space of your bedroom, soiling the sheets as Touya sets you down on your bed. 

He bustles around your room, grabbing another sleep shirt and tossing it your way before coming to settle down beside you on your bed. You make no move to put on the shirt.

You don’t do much of anything but stare blankly at the wall opposite your bed.

Touya hums softly, stroking your hair.

“Ya not gonna say anything?”

There’s a pause.

“Huh. Okay then… I think you’ll move in with me. Well, Tomura and me, that is. It’s a nice place, you’ll like it.”

Again, a pause. He seems to be waiting for a reaction, a change in facial expression, something.

…

Nothing.

He sighs heavily.

“Come on, don’t be like that. It’s not as if you didn’t enjoy it. You’re lucky it was storming outside and no one’s home. I’m sure the entire neighbourhood would’ve heard you moaning like a whore.”

It’s a jibe, one meant to get a rise out of you.

Nothing.

“...whatever. You’ll come around sooner or later, hah?” he hums, ruffling your hair.

He stands and stretches, seeming to contemplate something for a moment before he sighs again, covering you with a blanket and leaving your room without another word.

Only once the door clicks shut, do you allow yourself to cry, your small sniffles muffled by your pillow.

Despite your fear, your strained emotions, the ache between your thighs and in your jaw…

You fall asleep, curled up in a tight ball beneath a pile of blankets.

Unconsciousness welcomes you with open arms, and you pray that you stay asleep indefinitely, not wanting to wake up and deal with what had happened. 

You dream of shadowy figures, larger and faster than you, with glinting silver jewellery and cruel smirks, all looming over you.

And when you wake up hours later, you awake all your belongings packed up in cardboard boxes, and to Touya next to you in bed, his fingers pumping in and out of your core, his other palm massaging your breast.

He nips at your ear, smirking against your neck. "Morning imoto..."

#yandere #dark content #female reader #bnha #mha #dabi #touya todoroki #tomura shiragaki #hawks #keigo takami #x reader #yandere dabi #brother dabi #tomura shigiraki x reader #dabi x reader #hawks x reader #touya todoroki x reader #keigo takami x reader #yandere touya todoroki #yandere x reader #yandere dabi x reader #.noncon. #.pseudo incest. #stepbrother dabi #stepbrother dabi x reader #.stepcest.

[luvtak]

baby i'm yours, lee felix

✧ pairing lee felix x gn!reader

✧ genre/tw fluffy fluff! kinda hurt/comfort, reader has a migraine and felix is a little lovebug as always, too many petnames, kissing and sleepy cuddles

✧ w/c 1000

✧ a/n something small inspired by my own migraines, i hope anyone who relates starts to feel better and feels comforted by the sweetest boy <3 title is after this song it reminds me of him 💗

The house is filled with sound, circling around the space with laughter and music and video game noise. Lively melodies of boyishness, teasing and yelling; roughhousing so loud you’re sure the neighbors can hear.

The house is filled with sound, all except for your place in Felix’s room. Behind the door it’s silent, no sound but your gentle breath hitting his skin. He’s always so warm, a space heater personified, heating you everywhere his star-studded skin touches. You can feel his smile moving across your neck, placing soft little kisses on his path from your clavicle to your throat, all the way up to the side of your mouth.

“Feeling better?” he asks, his voice is gruff from lack of use and his eyes are light when they meet yours. His question seems more like a wish than an inquiry, he always worries when you get these headaches. Pain throbbing underneath your eyes and inside your temples, sometimes you feel so sick, nausea begins to accompany the migraine, and the only thing your boyfriend can do is wrap you up in his arms and his blankets and hope for the best.

You both know it’s easier to cure these moments away from the boy’s dorm. The cozy quiet of your apartment is much better suited to comfort the constant pounding, but there’s something magic to the noise. A curious familiarity surrounds the home, in some ways it reminds you of being a little kid and going to bed to the sounds of your parents still awake. A memory from an easier life, a moment trapped in time, but relived in these hurtful days inside this room.

“Just a little, I’m sorry I’m not very fun right now.” Your voice is a whisper, and your eyes are still squinted shut, but you hope your words are enough to convince him to stop worrying.

“Don’t be sorry, my love, I’m having a blast laying here with you.” Felix’s grin is sunlight, as bright and pretty as the rest of him, and you think it doesn’t matter if he’s lying—your head is already starting to ease just from the sight of your starshine boy smiling down at you.

His hands are in your hair and his smile is on your forehead, and you think you’ll be better in a few minutes. When you came over you had plans to watch movies and play Mario Kart with the rest of the boys, and maybe in just a few more minutes you can. You can almost envision it, opening up your eyes to a clear head and telling Felix that you feel so much better, joining the rest of the dorm in their night of laughter instead of this sickly quiet you currently inhabit.

You can tell your boyfriend doesn’t mind, he’s always happy to take care of you, but you’re sorry that another fun night has become the opposite.

“Really, Lixie, Go have fun with the boys… I can do all this by myself.” You don’t want him to go, but you need him not to feel trapped. Popping one eye open, you can tell what he thinks about that offer—if the slight squint of his eyes having anything to do with his emotions, he must think you’re crazy for even posing it as an option.

“And what? Sit in the living room with people I see every day instead of lying here with you? Are you insane?” He’s laughing as he says it, and his arms escape from your hair to gently play with your fingers. “You must be, my crazy little love… where does it hurt?”

His touch is light as a feather, pulling at your hands and rubbing up and down your arms. The skin to skin contact makes you shiver, even after all this time all it takes is a few gentle touches to start up the butterflies in your belly. You tell him about the pain under your eyes, huffing and whining when his body moves too much atop yours, but you stop as soon as his lips land softly on your eyelid; pressing down gentle and tender where the pain started.

“A kiss to make it feel better, okay baby?” Even through the pain his voice (so deep and quiet in the dark room) makes you smile. So typical of him, to be as sweet and sugary as the treats he cooks up. A boy who grew up on kiss cures and tickle fights, what a blessing to have him lay with you in the dark.

You’ve been smitten with him from the first time he shot his shiny smile at you, in love with each picture perfect piece of him. With hands grasping out to hold his, you kiss wherever you can reach: his shoulder first than the divot of his adams apple, all the way up to his uplifting lips.

“I love you, sweet boy… thank you for being with me.” You can’t tell if you mean here in the moment, or just in general, but either way it’s true. You’ll never stop being grateful for his place in your life, a light in the darkness and a heart to hold you when you don’t feel good.

He kisses you again instead of a response, slow and closed mouthed—desperately trying to express his feelings in all the ways he knows how.

“I love you too, you know I do.” He rolls off you, tucking you just underneath his chin; keeping you as close as possible. Legs on legs and hands clasped together, you can’t seem to find where you begin and he finishes—you’re as close as you could be with your warm pajamas on.

Everything is burning up, his skin and your love for him. So, cozy you can’t help but feel your eyes flutter close again. This close you can hear all his sounds, his heartbeat and his breath, and his sweet voice like a lullaby lulling you to sleep.

© luvtak

#skz fluff #skz x reader #felix fluff #felix x reader #lee felix #skz imagines #skz scenarios #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #felix #✧ drabble

[mediumgayitalian]

“You haven’t been sleeping, again.”

Nico hums, eyes fluttering shut under Will’s gently touch. His thumbs are calloused — years of endless determination with a bow and a guitar — and tickle the sensitive skin of his eyebags, but he welcomes the feeling. He goes so far as to lean into his touch, grinning when he hears Will’s fond huff.

“Why haven’t you come to me?”

“It’s just started,” Nico promises, turning his head to press a kiss to Will’s palm. He smiles, although it doesn’t reach his eyes, worry swimming in lakes of blue as he continues to gently brush his thumb just above Nico’s cheekbone.

“Still.” He exhales deeply, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment; when he looks back over his expression is urgent. “You worry me, darlin’.”

“You’re a worrier.”

“Still,” Will repeats. He presses their foreheads together. “Can I help? I want to help.”

“Hm.” He takes Will’s closeness as an opportunity, wrapping both hands around his hips and tugging him forward, gently, until Will gets the hint, wrapping his arms around him in turn and clinging tightly. He lifts his head and tucks it back into the crook of his head. Nico tips forward just slightly enough to press his lips in the dip behind his ear, lingering, more of a press to skin than a kiss; somewhere more to touch.

“I want you to sleep well,” Will admits, voice small, almost lost in the wrinkles of Nico’s heavy sweater. “I want — ease. I want you to eat ‘till you’re full and smile when you feel like it and sleep through the night. And be healthy, and feel strong, and —”

“I know, vita,” Nico interrupts softly. Will’s hold tightens, and his does in turn. “I know.”

“Let me spend the night.”

“…Okay.”

He feels the bob of Will’s throat as he swallows, feels the slightest tremor across his broad shoulders. “I’ll keep watch. That way you can — you can —”

“Thank you.”

Will nods. Nico pretends he doesn’t feel the wetness that drips onto his neck, doesn’t feel the way he shakes. He knows he feels — useless, sometimes, when Nico is plagued by nightmares, when he struggles. It frustrates him not to be able to fix it. Nico doesn’t know how to explain that it will never be fixed — but he helps. He always helps.

“You’re like morphine personified,” he teases — the closest he can come. “Relieving, addicting, sweet, and deadly in high doses.”

As Nico had hoped, Will snorts, swatting him gently on the shoulder before straightening. He sniffles, once, swiping the tears under his eyes.

“That doesn’t even make sense, you loser.”

Nico grins back unashamedly. “Doesn’t need to. I met my goal.”

He’s rewarded with a slight pinking of Will’s cheek, even as he rolls his eyes; clearly, obviously pleased. Nico can’t help stretching to his tiptoes and pressing a long, lingering kiss to his lips.

“I love you,” he murmurs.

“Love you too, baby.”

#pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #solangelo #nico/will #will/nico #nico di angelo #will solace #soft solangelo #fluff #fluff and angst #established relationship #my writing #fic #i imagine they’re older in this #eighteen maybe

[animeyanderelover]

Hello can I request a yandere indra + madara, obito, sasuke, itachi and shisui x goddess reader. The reader is a goddess of serenity, beauty, strength and healing. Thank you very much.

I just love how the Uchiha blood line has just the whole Naruto fandom in a chokehold. I have never not met a person who wasn’t at least down bad for one of them.

@shumidehiro @swagenemyartisan

Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, stalking, clinginess, delusional thoughts, threats, manipulation, paranoia, death

Goddess s/o

Indra Otsutsuki

💜Indra is one of the last people you will see bowing down to anyone after he has abandoned his father and brother. Instead he is the one who expects people to bow down to him as he is essentially a god with the powers he has obtained after having killed his two close friends in exchange for more power. It is that very arrogance that keeps him from even bowing his head to you. It is almost ironic how he has cursed his father for claiming that love would be the greatest power yet finds himself going through a similar experience when he is face to face with you for the first time. There is an ethereal glow around your body that sets you apart from the mortal humans, that sets you apart from him as he stares at you. Even after you fade away from his vision, his gaze remains fixated on the spot where you just were a few seconds ago. His mind is spinning, drowning in the images of the short glimpses he was able to catch of you. He wants to see you again. In your otherworldly presence he has finally felt something he hasn’t felt ever since he left his village and has been plagued by restlessness. He feels peace.

💜He doesn’t plan to join your group of worshippers but he sticks around them and the shrine they have created in hopes of catching a glimpse of you again. As enchanted as Indra may be, there is a volcano of twisted emotions that is just brooding inside of him. Your status as a goddess disturbs him and that disturbance has been inside of him ever since he has been humbled and humiliated by Ashura in the fight that tore all bonds he had previously held. Deep down he fears a repeat of this experience, of another loss of his, if he were to ever try to force you to join his side. He feels an overwhelming need to dominate you, to stand above you and force you via that into submission. He needs the reassurance of holding control as he would otherwise be too paranoid about you eventually beating him just like Ashura. Yet you two live in different worlds as you only rarely visit the realm of humans and it fills him with a poison called helplessness that he despises. His mind spirals into violent insanity as he will gladly burn down all of your followers and even your own shrine if you will answer the call of his obsession.

Madara Uchiha

🌑Madara has never prayed to anyone before. He has trained to stand as the head of his clan and he has achieved it all with his own strength and willpower. Yet his interest is immediately captured when he actually finds a real goddess that personifies strength and beauty. In a way he is almost instantly enraptured but don’t expect him to go down on both knees for you as Madara has never shown submission to anyone. Even your status as a goddess won’t force him to throw away his pride. Your ancient position as a goddess is still enough to earn you his respect, especially if he sees your powers in action. You carry yourself with a wisdom and elegance he would expect from someone who has existed for millennia as you have and you possess such beauty and serene composure that any mortal woman pales in comparison to you in every category. Ever since the day he has seen you, he hasn’t been able to give his attention nor interest to any women the clan has offered him as a potential bride. None of them could come even close to you so he ruthlessly rejects them all. He has only one woman in his heart he wants as a bride. You.

🌑Even if he may be blasphemous for yearning to claim a goddess as his possession, Madara doesn’t care. He has set his sights on you and nothing can stop him now. He’s persistent and stubborn, determined to marry you. Unfortunately you aren’t that easy to detect as you reside in a realm where humans can’t follow so he instead tracks down your followers and your shrine. Perhaps your subjects can be of use to help him to see you again. Now, Madara will be man enough to ask you for your hand in marriage when he sees you again and he isn’t opposed if you would play a bit hard to get so he can prove himself to you. If your opinion would stand firm that you don’t want to marry him though, things will look not pretty. In the traditional Uchiha fashion Madara’s feelings burn brighter than the sun and nothing can extinguish the fire in his heart. Once he has decided that only you will do for him, he will do everything in his strength to have you. He knows that he is potentially picking a fight with a goddess but he doesn’t fear the risk of such a battle. If he must fight against you to force you to stay by his side, so be it.

Obito Uchiha

🔥Ever since Rin’s death, ever since his innocence has been shattered, Obito has been living in hell. Life on earth has become synonymous with suffering and evil for him as his heart hasn’t known peace and joy since years. That’s when you two cross paths as he finds your abandoned shrine within the woods. As soon as he lays his eye on you, it’s like his crippled heart is healing as he feels serenity and calmness wrapping itself around him like a warm blanket. All caution and hostility melts away as the Uchiha can only stare at you in dreamy awe as you look at him with such dazzling eyes. The moment you disappear, it feels like a hole has opened in his heart that is aching. His gaze lands on the dirty and old shrine and suddenly there is a rage filling Obito as he realizes that the followers who used to care for your house on earth have abandoned it and have abandoned you by doing so. You poor thing. How must it feel for a goddess to be slowly forgotten? He starts tending to the shrine from that day on as he cleans it from the moss and visits it daily. He knows that you’re watching him whenever he feels his heartbeat calming down.

🔥He feels like the shrine is the place where only the two of you exist as your aura lulls him into a peacefulness he didn’t know that he could feel. Obito actually starts praying to you and he feels empowered whenever he does so as he likes to imagine that you bless him with the strength he needs to change this world. Soon he finds himself becoming addicted to your presence that fills him with such bliss and starts feeling stressed out when he can’t sense you. He likes to delude himself into thinking that both of you have suffered from the ignorance of the humans around you and that soon leads him to the conclusion that only you could ever understand him and he could only ever understand you. Whenever you show yourself to him, he’s talking like you are a frightened baby deer as he promises you revenge for the people who abandoned and forgot you and that he will never do as your former followers did. He will never allow anyone else to intrude in his little paradise where only him and you exist and longs for the day when you will finally allow him to show you the loyalty and love he feels for you.

Shisui Uchiha

🍂Religion can truly become a terrifying thing when it is used to oppress people. It is your cult that falls victim to Shisui on a mission as he is sent to the village they have temporarily settled down to enforce the laws of their own beliefs there. It is in the very temple they have been building by using the villagers as workers that Shisui has his first encounter with you. You have a heavy aura around you as you stare at him, as dignified and proud as a goddess standing for strength is meant to be even if your facial expression is a mellow one. Then there is Shisui, standing in the half-finished shrine of yours with the corpses of your followers lying around his feet. There is a thick silence where Shisui is silently preparing himself to be attacked by you yet he only receives a nod from you that almost looks like a sign of gratitude before you vanish. No one else has seen you yet he’s convinced that it wasn’t an illusion. Too troubled to leave the village without getting his confirmation that you were real, he steals necklace from one of your followers which is meant to help your followers to stay in contact with you.

🍂Visions and glimpses as fleeting as a shooting star haunt him from that day on and if anyone else but Shisui would have stolen the artifact, they would have probably lost their mind already. He knows exactly that he can’t tell anyone about your existence as they wouldn’t believe him and label him as a lunatic in the worst case. It’s like you are constantly observing him. Your presence is like a warm gentle rain that engulfs him constantly and the occasional brush of your hands against his skin a delicate sensation that has his whole body tingling. Until eventually Shisui finds his eyes constantly searching for you, an almost queasy feeling in his stomach when he can neither see nor sense you. You have given him your blessing and your protection after he has cleared your name of the traitors who have been abusing your image for such crude actions. Shisui wonders if you already know that his own strong feelings you have admired upon first meeting him have already been twisted because of you. He secretly builds you a small shrine where he also hides the necklace, well aware that they will tie you one way or another to his village.

Itachi Uchiha

🍡Itachi, despite his normally cold facade, is deep down also a deeply troubled person who is drowning in the sorrow of what he had to do to his own clan and family. Around you the silent ache gets soothed, even if it’ll never fully disappear. From the Uchiha clan Itachi is most likely one of the calmer ones and the one who will actually put the respect on you that you deserve without overwhelming you. He has enough on his mind already after all but he at times feels a tad bit honored that you decided to show yourself to him out of curiosity when you saw him passing through the forest with your shrine. Your presence is quite enjoyable and that isn’t only because you are a goddess of serenity and beauty but also because you could almost be mistaken as a normal human if it wouldn’t be for the halo around you. You don’t act like what he would have expected from a goddess of your caliber but instead you are curious, humble and get childishly excited when he brings you food because you normally don’t get such stuff in the realm where you live. Your curiosity about the most mundane stuff is sometimes downright amusing.

🍡As an Akatsuki member, Itachi is already put under a lot of isolation. He only has Kisame as a work partner and now there is also you with whom he can spend time with. Itachi really appreciates this. The fact that you have an entire cult at your disposal yet you only really show yourself to him flatters him more and more as time passes on. Even if he can’t see you, he can certainly sense you and even that is enough for him. It is quite ambiguous coming from him but despite the crimes that he has committed, Itachi has still morals. He got too comfortable with you, has allowed himself to delve too deep into those emotions and now he has no way out anymore. You two are so different. You are a celestial being that is essentially immortal and he is only human. He’s probably only going to be a fleeting moment in your life but his emotions has long left his control and act unreasonable. Despite applying all logic to his case, his own emotions don’t want to listen to him as they long to be with you. His determination to die at the hands of his brother waver greatly the longer he spends time with you, a gravity pulling him towards you.

Sasuke Uchiha

💙If Sasuke becomes fixated on a person, he is ready to go to great lengths and throw everything and everyone around him away to reach his goal. It applies to his desire for revenge as well as the intense obsession he develops that is centered around you. He has never believed in any celestial existence as the extermination of his entire clan has taught him that there is no such thing as a god protecting the people in his land. But your existence proves him otherwise. Even amidst his obsession, there is this burning bitterness and rage he holds against you though. Where has been your protection when his entire clan was eradicated? Why didn’t you do anything? There is pain even amongst his anger as he lashes out on you and blames you. He doesn’t care about the fact that you are a literal goddess. Your powers can’t be good for anything after all if you just allow the people in the Leaf Village to commit such a genocide. He wants answers, demands them, just to understand why it had to be his clan that had to suffer so much yet you can’t give him those answers. Instead there is a pitiful look on your face that almost drives him mad.

💙He hates how your mere presence always manages to drain all negative energy from him as he feels like his own emotions are controlled when he is around you yet it has never stopped him from approaching you. The grudge he holds against you and others of your kind for doing absolutely nothing to prevent the death of so many people. You probably think that you’re better just because you are a goddess, don’t you? Despite this, his anger almost seems to fuel his obsession with you. Sasuke yearns to have you, to be in possession of you and he is also steered by a desire to be in control of you. You are used to everyone being beneath you and as if to punish you for your ignorance about his own clan’s tragic fate, Sasuke wants to show you what it feels like to struggle and to experience helplessness. He doesn’t know just yet if he can beat you in a fight and he is wise enough to not underestimate you but he swears to you that one day he will gain enough power to keep you permanently by his side and to teach you not to pity him. And he’s getting stronger and stronger with each passing day…

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