#I would say I went overboard

[void-occupation]

Wish I Could Love You

HA, you though that just because the last thing I posted was fluff, that I'd ease off the angst train??? Well April Fools bitches, I'm back with even more angst than before!!!!!

Here's the Ao3 link

TW for some serious acephobia (internalized and otherwise) and references to conversion therapy. Also a bit of self-harm at the end, because Alastor has trichotillomania in canon (as seen during his meltdown). If you want to avoid that, it starts at "Crimson claws" and ends at "tears". It's just one sentence, so you won't miss much. There is also a brief non-con kiss. I just wanted to vent the aroace pain from close friends confessing romantic feelings, and I almost made myself cry at work, so fun times

(PS: this does not mean I think ships with Alastor are not valid. I myself am in a happy long-term relationship. Asexuality and Aromanticism are part of a spectrum which means there are many ways for it to be interpreted by those who identify with the terms. There are a few ships with Alastor that I love, but the people writing them have to be careful to consider his identity while doing so)

ANYWAYS, I'll stop rambling now and let you read the fic

An evening spent with Vox was always guaranteed to be interesting. That was part of what had drawn Alastor to him in the first place after all, the Radio Demon forever seeking entertainment. However, after twenty years of friendship even Alastor could admit he was no longer in it for the entertainment factor. Even through his lifetime of severe emotional repression, Alastor was smart enough to see that he had grown to genuinely care about the TV demon - which had led to quite the emotional meltdown on his part, embarrassingly enough.

All of that was besides the point. The point was that even though they were just having dinner in Vox’s apartment as they did at least once a week, things still had yet to become dull, which was quite the accomplishment for someone whose attention was as flighty as Alastor’s. 

As Vox rambled about this new guy he had met - Mateo? Stephano? No, that wasn’t it - Valentino! As Vox rambled about this Valentino character, Alastor mused on the relationship he had with the TV demon. The red-head had never had a positive relationship with another man before, besides Husker of course. That hardly counted though, considering he owned the former overlord’s soul. Vox was truly a novelty. 

“Hey, Alastor?” The deer demon was pulled from his thoughts by his friend’s slightly hesitant tone. He focused back in on Vox’s face, and was a bit confused by the way Vox’s gaze was darting around the room. It looked like he wanted to look at Alastor but was too flustered to do so, a slight red glow lighting up the lower portion of his screen where his cheeks would be.

“What is it?” Alastor asked, slightly wary of the strange atmosphere that had filled the air around the couch they had chosen to share. His ears pinning back was the only outward sign of his unease. 

Vox finally seemed to get over whatever was keeping him from making eye contact, but Alastor couldn’t help but wish he hadn’t. He didn’t know how to process the unbearably soft way the other was looking at him. His stomach lurched unpleasantly, as though he had missed a stair. 

Vox reached over and gently took Alastor’s hands in his own, and Alastor suddenly found himself wishing he hadn’t set his plate on the coffee table - it would have given him an excuse to avoid this soft contact that felt far too intimate, even with their long-term friendship.

“I’ve wanted to tell you this for a while, but it never felt like the right time.” Vox shifted one hand so that it gently cradled Alastor’s cheek, and as he continued, Alastor’s smile shrunk to the smallest it had been since he had been forced to maintain it - unable to turn downwards, but begging to reflect the dread blooming in his chest.

“But, I’m tired of waiting for ‘the right time’. So, I’m just gonna come out and say it.”

“Vox…please,” Alastor begged, voice refusing to rise above a whisper, and static mangling his words. Internally, he was screaming, begging on his knees for Vox to stop before he said something he couldn’t take back. Vox either didn’t hear him or didn’t understand what he meant, because the TV demon continued forward.

“I love you, Alastor. I have for a long time, and I want to spend the rest of my afterlife loving you. We’ve been friends for such a long time, and I want to move to the next step in our relationship.” Vox was positively beaming, warm love and sincere affection in his eyes as he peered deep into Alastor’s soul - unable to see the pain he had wrought with those three words.

Alastor was crushed. His throat closed up and it felt like a clawed fist had clenched around his chest, his heart aching and lungs unable to draw breath. He tried to choke words past his constricted throat, but couldn’t force anything out. His brows lowered as his scarlet eyes widened, burning with hurt and shock.

Vox’s own brows furrowed in concern at Alastor’s silence. “Alastor?”

Alastor could barely hear him over his rushing thoughts. He felt so…used. How long had their friendship been based around Vox’s desire to get into his pants? What parts of their relationship had been genuine friendship rather than a furthering of Vox’s goals for a romantic partner? Was this Alastor’s fault? Had he done something to encourage this?

The worst part was the guilt. Alastor couldn’t say it about very many people, either in the living world or in Hell, but he truly loved Vox. He loved him as he loved Rosie, and he saw the other demon as the brother he’d never had in life, but that was the problem. He could never give Vox what he wanted. Alastor knew he was broken - the doctors had confirmed as much while he was alive, and the medications and more aggressive treatments he had received for his dysfunction had never worked as intended. 

Vox deserved so much better.

His eyes burned and his stomach clenched with nausea, and Alastor fought back tears that hadn’t fallen since his mother’s passing. Alastor wanted to love Vox that way, if only to spare his feelings, but he just couldn’t. 

Vox leaned forward, taking Alastor’s silence as a positive answer, and as he guided Alastor’s face in for a gentle kiss, the deer demon panicked. He lurched back as their lips connected, accidentally throwing himself off the couch to lay in a crumpled heap on the floor. 

Vox looked startled as he took in Alastor’s panicked expression, and made to stand as Alastor scrambled to his feet. 

“Alastor, what - ?” he started, reaching for the shorter demon’s hand. Alastor jerked back as though he’d been burned.

“Don’t,” he hissed defensively, clutching his hands to his chest like he was afraid to be within touching distance of the other demon. “Don’t touch me!”

Vox looked crushed. Alastor felt as though a spear had stabbed through his heart: he caused that expression on Vox’s face. 

“I won’t - I can’t - !” Alastor growled in pain and frustration, unable to articulate his thoughts. He tried to think of something, anything that could salvage their relationship before things got out of hand, but the rage growing in Vox’s expression burned that possibility into mere ashes. The anger masked the hurt that had been there previously.

“Are you kidding me?!” Vox didn’t quite shout, but to Alastor, he might as well have screamed through a megaphone. The deer demon took two steps back for every advance Vox made, feeling uncharacteristically like prey. He was used to having control over every interaction, but this had quickly spiraled into something monstrous.

“Twenty years of friendship all for you to get pissed when I say I want to progress things like a normal person would?! I waited, wanting you to be comfortable because I know you need time to adjust to people, but you still don’t care about me enough to even consider it?! If you never wanted me, why did you lead me on? Why did you pretend to enjoy my company if you knew you would reject me? Is my pain really that funny to you? Fuck, Alastor - can’t you see how hard I’m trying?” Vox had backed Alastor into a corner, and the deer demon was reminded violently of his youth - long hours spent cowering beneath someone who wanted nothing more than to make Alastor wish he was never born.

Alastor hadn’t felt this small since he had made his deal, and he had never assumed he would feel that way around Vox. The Radio Demon was so overwhelmed with emotion, that he did the one thing he had promised himself he would never do again.

He ran.

As Alastor fled into his shadows, he felt Vox’s arms try to wrap around him and prevent his escape, and heard the TV demon’s frustrated and agonized cry as he slipped under the door. He didn’t stop until he reached his radio tower, and reverted back to his more solid form once he was safely inside.

Alastor backed away from the door until his back hit the wall, and he slowly slid down it until he was sitting on the floor with his knees curled to his chest. A soft, staticky whimper forced its way past his lips before he could silence it, and the tears he’d been fighting finally burned fiery tracks down his cheeks. Alastor’s breath hitched, and he buried his face in his knees, wrapping his arms around his head and legs in a futile attempt to muffle the choked hiccups.

Sobs tore out of his throat from a place deep within his chest, wracking his whole body with the force of them. Stitches pulled at the corners of his mouth, forcing him to grin through his tears, and he had never wished so strongly for the ability to stop smiling. Crimson claws fisted in his hair, scratching at his scalp in his panic and sending small rivulets of blood down his face to merge with the tears.

Alastor had just destroyed one of his closest relationships because he was so broken that he couldn’t even reciprocate affection normally. It was all his fault, and the guilt tore at him in ways he hadn’t felt in decades.

Drowning in grief for the bridge he’d set ablaze, Alastor couldn’t stop thinking about how - outside of his treatment plans - Vox had stolen his first kiss.

[nyatbinary-81]

@vulpixisananimal alters HATE them! solve every problem with this one neat trick! [gives the body a heart attack]

[imminent-danger-came]

My new hobby is skimming through seasons of Ninj//ago to induce a fever dream like state in my psychese

[lindalofbroome]

i started making one-star travel reviews as a joke for Kira’s dnd campaign but oh boy did i commit too much to the bit 😂😂

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

profile icons from Freepik: one, two, and three

btw feel free to make your own hahha doesn’t have to be as dramatic as this, can just be a textpost or whatever. thats what i originally had but then i made it,, like a compilation??

you can tag it as #roddaverse travel reviews like me, or not, your choice

[catmemey]

newness? maybe.

[doloridis]

i can’t tell if the show did a really shit job at highlighting the legal and social nuances of bastardry, if the majority of the audience is just genuinely stupid, or if the majority of the audience are so insane that they willingly overlook it in order to shit on the greens, but i truly am so tired of alicent being villainised for raising the valid point that nyra’s kids were not a product of her marriage, thus, they were illegitimate

[midshipmank]

never know how to feel when a student gets a 0 on an assignment, despite the fact that he clearly at least skimmed the reading and even spent a reasonable 15 minutes answering the 5 reading comprehension questions. but he just didn’t read closely enough to find the actual answers. like. what am i supposed to do with this. what am i supposed to tell his parents

[nimomo-mo]

Vent

[all4yoi]

𝒥ust a bet﹕hyung line

𝑒nhypen x fem!reader ︎︎⚹︎ cw: angst, no fluff (yet), reader is mostly viewed as a loser and nerd, lowercase intended, kinda went overboard with hoon's, reader gets called a bitch once, not proofread!

sypnosis﹕after a few months of dating, you find out you were just a bet.

part two !

★ LEE HEESEUNG (wc 0.3k)

you and lee heeseung has been dating for a total of five months, and throughout those months you can confidently say that you were the happiest. he was the perfect boyfriend, his family loved you and so did yours.

today, heeseung promised he would take you on a date after his basketball practice despite your protests on how he should be resting instead. you wouldn't have agreed if it weren't for the fact that he had shot you with his pleading big doe eyes that never fails to make you agree on whatever he asks for. 

so here you were, making your way towards the gymnasium with your bag hanging on your left shoulder. the lack of dribbling and smacking basketball noise from behind the closed doors told you that their practice was done.

entering quietly out of habit, you were about to approach your boyfriend when you overheard his teammates talking to him.

"don't tell me you're still with her?" asked one of boys, an amused smile on his face. heeseung only raised a brow.

"what? you won the bet, you can dump her now. you're ruining our image you know? plus she's a total nerd and loser, you're much better with someone like yunhee." and with only just a few words, you felt your world crashing down.

right, who would date someone like you? you always found it weird, that heeseung just approached you one day in your biology class with the cheekiest smile on his face. the fact that he wouldn't leave you alone until you've agreed to go on a date with him. it all made sense now, why the popular basketball captain suddenly gained interest on the school's "biggest nerd."

"speaking of.." another guy spoke, nodding towards you with a cheeky smile. heeseung turned around only to be met with your glassy eyes.

you didn't move, wanting to hear him defend you. wanting to tell his teammates that you weren't a bet and he actually liked you throughout the months you two have been dating.

his silence said everything and with that you turned away and ran out of the gym.

"shit." he muttered, running after you.

★ PARK JONGSEONG (wc 0.3k)

"i'll pick you up later, okay?" your boyfriend of almost a year said softly through the phone. you've been dating jay since the first week of your first year in uni, others found your relationship weird. maybe because back in high school, jay never and refused to even spare you a glance. he was an asshole who looked at you as if you were the epitome of disgusting.

but the past is in the past now, right?

"okay baby, see you." you reply and put your phone down on your table, knowing that he's usually the one who ends the call.

you go back to the papers scattered on your table. the silence in your room was disturbed by sudden noises in your phone, turning to look, you see that jay hasn't ended the call.

picking your phone up with a smile, you were about to call out for him but a voice stopped you.

"i can't believe you've gone this far dude." you recognized the slightly muffled voice, it was a friend of jongseong's.

"what do you mean?" your boyfriend grumbled. the audio was muffled, you figured he was moving and the phone was in his pocket.

"you're still dating her!" the voice exclaimed, as if amused. "seriously, i didn't think you'd take that bet seriously. fine you win, i'll clean your car for a month. but you've gotta cut it out, you're starting to disgust me." the boy laughed.

before you could hear what your boyfriend would say, you ended the call. your hand was trembling and tears were falling from your eyes unconsciously.

were all those months just a joke to him? were your feelings really worth a free car wash for just a month? were you that unworthy?

jay was an asshole back in high school, you thought he changed. turns out he didn't, you felt like a fool for falling for his antics.

★ SIM JAEYUN (wc 0.3k)

if someone would be asked who you were, they'd all say the same thing. a loner, pathetic loser, and a nobody with a pretty face.

because what was a pretty face if you had no friends and a social life?

you almost believed you would die alone, you were too socially awkward to make friends. so when sim jaeyun, the transferee, approached you with a warm smile and a hand outstretched for a shake, you were beyond shocked.

your relationship went from being block mates, friends, then next thing you knew you two were dating. at first you were reluctant to enter a relationship, scared that it would ruin your friendship, but he insisted you both tried. that was three months ago.

you didn't have any friends, but atleast you had jake.

jake who smiles at you as if you had carved the stars in your hands. jake who would never forget to bring your coffee every morning. he was everything you ever needed. he was it for you, you only hoped he felt the same towards you.

walking through the hallway of the school, you stopped infront of your locker only to be met with a sticky note on it.

HOW LONG CAN JAKE LAST WITH LOSER L/N?

A WEEK : 卌 - 卌 - 卌 - 卌 - III

FIVE MONTHS : 卌 - I

A YEAR : II

Furrowing your brows, you stare at the note as your breathing grew heavy. It was obvious that the paper was old, it had folds and it was only stuck on your locker with a washi tape.

"what are you doing l/n? go on, cast your vote." a mocking voice said from beside you followed by a bunch of laughter. "personally, i thought he'd last a day. i guess i'll vote for five months then." then the hand went and tallied on the five months category.

"what's going on here?" upon hearing your boyfriend's voice, you fled away immediately, not wanting to face him. everytime something good happens in your life, it's always ripped away from you. jake was just like them, you were just a toy for their own entertainment.

★ PARK SUNGHOON (wc 0.5k)

"i'm sorry baby, i really am busy with practice tomorrow." your boyfriend, sunghoon, says in genuine sorry. it was the fifth time you have asked him to meet your parents, who also by the way was so desperate to meet the boy you've been dating for seven months now.

every time you ask him, he's always busy. either with practice, a project, a family matter, or whatever excuse he can come up with. but you always brush it off, knowing he means well and he really is busy as he's an athlete student.

"i'll meet them next week, okay? i promise." that's also the same thing he says everytime too, and once again, you only nod in response.

you and sunghoon met in a physics class. he was clutching his head with a frown on his face as he desperately tried to understand what the professor was going on about.

you remember clearly the way he approached you in the library, a physics book on his left hand as his right scratched his nape. "can.. i noticed- uh, can you help me with this topic?"

that was where your relationship started. you tutored him and helped him improve his grade. when he got an A on the finals, he kissed you on the lips in glee. he was taken aback by his own actions but nevertheless asked you out after.

"i love you," he whispers, pressing a kiss on your temple. "let me get something from my room." you hum in response as he takes his arm that was previously wrapped around you before going up to his room.

you can't help but notice the way his phone was blowing up from beside you.

you weren't the type to snoop around other people's phones, especially your boyfriend. it just felt wrong, you trusted him fully. but the way it kept ringing with text notifications, you just couldn't help it.

looking back to the stairs, you note he isn't back and there was still rummaging noises from his room.

taking his phone, you enter his passcode and read the messages from one of his group chats.

JONGSU

lol don't tell me she asked again.. em ba rrah sing

DAEHYUN

hahah when is she gonna take a hint?? 💀

JOON

you gonna blame her? hoon's been at it for months lmao

DAEHYUN

i actually can't believe he went that far, wasn't it only supposed to be for a month? 🗿

JONGSU

a week actually, but ig that bitch y/n was so easy. yk hoon likes to get his ego fed 💀💀

putting the phone down, you exhaled in disbelief. you took your bag from the floor and threw it over your shoulder and went to the door of his apartment to put your shoes back on.

"baby?" sunghoon emerged from the stairs, looking at you curiously. "you're going already?" he asked, extending an arm towards you but you slapped it away. the tears on your eyes shocking him.

"hey, hey what's wrong?" he tried again but his hand was yet again slapped away.

"i don't want to see you ever again." was the last words you uttered to him (shakily) before leaving his apartment.

[carebearbussy]

𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙖 𝙗𝙧𝙪𝙞𝙨𝙚!

ᥫ᭡ 𝙨𝙮𝙥𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨: 𝙞𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝… 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙞𝙣𝙟𝙪𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙪𝙣𝙖𝙨 𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙚, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙤𝙪𝙩.

ᥫ᭡ 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙖𝙣 𝙚𝙧𝙖!𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙪𝙣𝙖 𝙭 𝙛𝙚𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

ᥫ᭡ 𝙘𝙬: 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙, 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝, 𝙘𝙪𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙪𝙨𝙖𝙜𝙚 𝙤𝙛 '𝙬𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙣' '𝙬𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙚', 𝙗𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙, 𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙨𝙪𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚

ᥫ᭡ 𝙬𝙘: 1.6𝙠

𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙨 𝙢𝙮 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

"I am so fucked" is something that immediately ran through your mind.

But as you were walking in the spaceous courtyard, you couldn't help but practically float to the source of that amazing smell coming from one of the estates many kitchens in the hallway.

You walk into the kitchen, head peeking curiously at Uraume cooking some soup in a large pot ,following Lord Sukunas request. This was your favorite, and he knew this very well.

Ever since you had moved into his large estate, your life has drastically changed. You were a normal person, with nothing remotely special about you. But you had Sukuna whipped. You were Sukunas favorite, which also automatically came with being the biggest gossip of the Heian Era. Everywhere you look, people would make assumptions about you and your status with the lord. Ever since your arrival, there was no more need for concubines. And it made them furious.

A group of concubines walked past you while you were peeking in the hallway, the ladies snickering to themselves and bickering about you for the 1000th time. You could even call them obsessed with you.

'i really don't get whats so special about her.'

'she's just some high class whore that happened to get lucky.'

'she must be some sort of witch.'

Are some of the things they would say. But as they walked by, one of the woman came up behind you and bumped right into your back, muttering an 'oops' before quickly giggling and running off. You went lunging forward, as your leg tripped, causing a large bleeding bruise. Uraume immediately ran to your side, quickly residing besides your shaking body.

"shiiitttt-" you muttered as you looked down at your leg, while Uraume held it up with their hand. "Don't move." they said as ice started forming around your fragile leg. You winced and whimpered in pain, as blood began trickling down your leg to your feet.

"Please don't tell Lord Sukuna... he cant know about this-" you say, as if thats the most important thing right now. "Y/n. You know I must inform him. That would be going against his wishes." Damn, you knew they would say that. You'll just have to try and hide your leg for as long as possible. But what that entirely possible? Considering he always had somebody watching you when he was not, and the fact that he can basically know for certain when something is wrong.

You knew how he would react, and that he would go overboard and blame it on those girls. And you took pity towards them. While they did practically vomit in your presence, you didn't want to be known as some prissy complainer.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

You had convinced Uraume to leave your side, as you layed in your futon, trying to distract yourself from the pain. Sukuna had granted you the privilege of sharing a bed with him. He was currently busy (as so you thought), with fornicating with important business matters. So what better time to get better than now? You had all day to yourself in your mind.

You toyed with your thumbs while staring at the ceiling. Due to the status your leg is in, your options of keeping yourself busy are quite limited. While your glad Sukuna doesn't see you in your current state, you wished he was here keeping you some sort of company.

Being Sukunas favorite came with its perks, but one of its downsides was being pretty lonely. People were scared to become close to you, due to Sukunas tendency to kill people on sight when it came to you. You are always being targeted, and people don't want to fuck up their chance at life.

You were lost in your own thoughts, when suddenly the sliding door slams open, with enough force to cause an earthquake. By the look ok Sukunas face, you could tell he was furious. Not at you, but to whoever did this to you. Next to him was Uraume, looking as unbothered as ever. They were holding a tray, consisting of soup, water, towels, and a mochi a servant picked out at the fancy market per Sukunas request.

"Show me your leg, woman." Sukuna demanded, making his way towards you on the bed. He sat next to you, as he tried pulling the covers out of the way, but glared at you when you tried to stop him. "Why must you resist? I already know what happened. Hurry up and show me."

Your felt your eye twitch, as your body stiffened at his gruff words. "Nothings wrong 'kuna. What are you talking about?" You say, as you look him into the eyes, but failing to do so fully because of how intimidating he got when he was mad. Sukuna let out a guttural sigh, looking over at Uraume. "Hold her down." He says to them. "Understood." As Uraume made their way over to you, holding your hips down with their hands. Sukuna pulled the covers off of you and you could see his eyes widen upon looking at your injury.

"The fuck is this?" He exclaims as he looks down at your leg. You look away in shame, as the blood dripping down your knee hits the mattress, and stains the white satin bedsheets a deep crimson. He then looks back up to you, looking for answers.

"Who did this." "...." you don't respond. "I said, who did this. Don't make me repeat myself." "it was the blonde girl... I dont remember her name all too much..." you say, as you look away from him. But his upper hand grabs hold of your chin, forcing you to look in his direction. You can clearly see he doesn't know who your talking about, not bothering to remember the looks and names of other woman, besides you. That was something Uraume had told you, and every time you think about it, it makes you warm up inside.

"Fuckin' hell woman... you're gonna be the death of me someday." He says, with genuine concern for your leg. "Uraume, run her a bath feed her, and get some of the nurses to take care of her. I have something I need to do." He says, as he gets up from the bed, quickly giving your already messy hair a ruff. As he stands int he doorframe, he gives you one last glance before leaving, leaving him with the last word.

You stare dumbfounded into your own thoughts, until your snapped back into reality by the sudden realization... 'holy shit, is she in danger?' But those thoughts are also occupied by Uraume lifting you up into their arms, and carrying you to the warm, steamy bath that usually accompanied you and Sukuna. But since he was busy doing god knows what, you were alone with Uraume and two other handmaidens.

As they scrubbed your body in the giant tub, you fell into your own thoughts. You tried to relax deep into the water, but the wooden walls ran thin in the estate, cauing you to overhear something you wish you hadnt.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

"My lord! Please, I apologize for my actions!" The girl had exclaimed. She was begging for her life at this point. Sukuna, as well as three butlers had the poor girl surrounded. She was on her knees, kneeling all the way to the floor, with her hands pressed firmly against her face. All she could do was pray that her life could be willingly spared.

"What is the meaning of this? You think its all fun and games around here, but you are simply wasting my time. It shouldn't be on such trash like yourself." He states firmly. Hearing Sukuna call her trash got to her head, and drove her deeper into a state of despair.

"You are merely incompetent, easily replaceable." Sukuna says as he kicks her head, with a harsh 'thud'. The girl grabs hold of Sukunas feet, as she rests her forehead onto his left. "Please! Ill take one hundred lashes! Just please don't kill me, i'm still so young-" "Tsk, i've heard enough." He says as he slashes the woman across the back, leaving her killed in a blink of an eye.

"Take care of this, I cant have somebody like her be around Y/N."

As he gestures the butlers to carry and clean the residue up, he walks towards your room, head held high, and feeling proud of himself. He doesn't feel the need to impress you, but he had to admit he felt really good right now. Not at killing the woman, but at the idea of your reaction. Will you be concerned? Happy? Angry? Who knows, but it always ends the same.

He walks into your shared bedroom, not even knocking, as he stares at your sleeping form, and sees your cute little silk pajamas. God, you were adorable. But he would swear on his life to never truly admit that. Your chest moves up and down as you are in dream land, your shirt riding up to reveal your stomach.

"Brat, wake up." He says, which immediately waking you up from your sweet dreams. You shoot your head up, as Sukuna glares daggers into your eyes.

"You awake now? Good. I slayed that brainless, ignorant woman."

He says, no feelings behind his words, as he slowly crawls his way up the bed, eyes still locked onto yours. He looks you up and down, seemingly staring into you, making you feel exposed.

"What did you do?"

"Thats not important right now. But I think I know what is."

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

[madelynraemunson]

pass the salt • e.m. smut

DAD’S BEST FRIEND!OLDER!EDDIE x FEM!READER

part two here

summary: you’re home from college and staying with your dad for the summer, spending as much time as you possibly can with him…and his hot best friend that you’ve never seen in your life.

authors note: okay have you guys ever seen those text posts like “when you say ‘daddy pass the salt please’ and your father and your man both reach for it” 💀💀 well this is inspired by that concept. also i went overboard and this is a LONG BOI

disclaimers — photo credits to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple 🫶🏼porn with plot, reader’s nickname is “sunshine”, reader has female anatomy, race unspecified, divider: @iluvpooks

NSFW — 18+ obv, porn with plot, daddy kink pls keep scrolling if it’s not ur thing, slight age gap (eddie is mid to late 30s, reader is in her early 20s), corruption kink, size kink, masturbation (m&f), p in v sex (protected), dirty talk, teasing, sexual innuendos, extreme flirting, eddie kinda being a perv, praise kink

The sound of breakfast on the griddle summons you downstairs.

Dad never cooks.

For as long as you can remember, weekends at your dad’s have always consisted of Lucky Charms cereal and powdered donuts. That tradition continued even after you started college.

Oh yeah. Someone is here, alright. Someone Dad desperately wants to impress.

Trailing after the commotion, your fuzzy pink slippers guide you down the wooden steps of your dad’s ‘bachelor pad’ and into the kitchen. And when you near the bottom of the steps, you can make out two distinct voices — one belonging to Dad, another belonging to someone who's identity is obscure.

“God, I fucking missed you, Jeff. Missed everyone so much.”

The smells of pancake batter, cigarette smoke, mint, and petroleum fuel reel you in, but not nearly as much as the sight of the man sitting on the opposite side of your dad. He's built, handsome with wavy brown hair, leather, black denim, twiddling a toothpick between his teeth as he listens to your dad speak with a smile on his face. That is, until you come into sight. It then that his intense focus circles in on you.

Funny. You don’t remember this friend. And something in your gut tells you that you won’t ever be forgetting him after this.

The stranger's grin curls into a wonder-filled smirk. You can feel your knees start to buckle.

“Uh oh. Looks like our shenanigans woke up Sleeping Beauty.”

When you get a closer look at Dad’s friend, you observe his faint brown beard — neatly kept and lightly peppered with some gray — delicious lips, shiny white teeth, and grooves along his laugh lines that would deepen with every theatrical cackle he belted out.

You can't help but freeze in your tracks as him and your dad continue on with their banter, reliving their glory days like it was yesterday. Man. What a damn dreamboat.

Your dad’s eyes light up with glee when he sees you.

“Hey, good morning, Sunshine!” Dad cheers. “Thought you’d never wake up. This is my friend Eddie. We were in that band together in high school. Come say hi.”

"Yeah, come say hi," Eddie agrees. feeding into the obvious tension in the room. "I don't bite."

The stranger laughs at his own comment as soon as he utters it.

There’s a charm — a magic — about Eddie that could only be found in Hollywood or the Big City. But of course, you didn't expect any less from Dad's supposed ‘Rockstar Friend’.

When your parents had you at 17, life went on for Dad’s band Corroded Coffin. And although he missed out on the ‘Sex, Drugs, and Rock&Roll’, Dad insists that tea parties and white picket fences were an ideal trade-off. Because — despite how things ended with Mom — it still meant a life spent with you.

You tell him your name as Eddie offers you his hand to shake. Electricity serges through you when your hand is enveloped by his firm, calloused one. Eddie smiles down at you, his presence all-consuming. It's almost as if he knows it. And as much as you were dying to, you resist the urge to fall into him.

Eddie's no better.

It takes everything in Eddie's power to keep his eyes above your collarbones, reprimanding himself with the utmost tedium. Because heaven knows he'd be TOAST if his best friend found out that Eddie thought that you were absolutely stunning — strutting around the house the way that you do, without a bra underneath that poor excuse of a sleep shirt — a sleep shirt far too tight for your own good. With tight, pajama shorts to match…

Of course, this is all an assumption…Not that he caught wind of it or anything.

“You know…” he mentions. “Your dad has told me SO much about little miss Sunshine.”

“Me, really?” is all you can say behind those fuscia cheeks.

“Really,” Eddie insists. “He never shuts up about you, darling.”

“Hopefully you’ve only heard good things,” you mutter faintly.

And instantly, your dad and Eddie share a laugh.

“Only good things,” Eddie assures you. He nudges your dad playfully.

Your dad doesn’t exactly deny the last part, basically confirming to Eddie that you’ve got a hint of spunk to you. The heat settles at your cheeks as you shy away from your father’s curious friend.

Taking note of how timid you’ve just become, Eddie furrows his brows.

“What — was that an implication that you’re not always good?”

“No comment,” your smile melts into an awkward one.

“Kept me on my toes back then,” your dad reflects with a sigh. “Keeps me on my toes now.”

“You don’t say…” Eddie smirks slightly, gaze panning back over to you.

Eventually your dad leaves you two alone, going into the garage to fetch something that he insists Eddie would like. But little did he know that such thing was already in the room, leaning…reaching into the fridge for some orange juice, not realizing its atmosphere caused your nipples to harden.

Eddie’s eyes proceed to follow you as you strut back to the griddle, flipping some hot cakes over before tending to your messy bedhead.

Eddie probably doesn’t know — or maybe he does, who knows? — that you feel him staring at you. It’s a burning gaze that practically impales you, but you’re too nervous to say anything. You’re better off pretending like it’s something you don’t notice.

You and Eddie continue to help yourselves to breakfast, enjoying the company of each other and your mutual silence. That is, until Eddie speaks up.

“Got some sausage for you if you’d like.”

“I’m sorry?” you sputter, looking up from your food.

Eddie shoots you a weird glance as he holds up some breakfast franks.

“Sausage?” he repeats. “Store was out of beef so I settled for turkey. Hope that’s not a problem.”

“Not at all,” you clear your throat. “I love turkey sausage.”

“Okay, good,” Eddie chuckles, seemingly relieved at how quickly the situation had diffused.

“Cool,” you chuckle with him while taking some links to cook.

The silence returns once more and is replaced by the sizzling of the grill. It’s short lived, however, because soon, the man nearly twice your age speaks again.

“What’d you think I said?” Eddie circles back.

“Nothing, why?”

“You just looked stunned.”

“I just woke up,” you shrug. “My mind’s somewhere else.”

“I can tell,” he smirks. “Get that thing out of the gutter.”

The coming days paved way for some more innocent flirting.

…Like when you make sure to wear the shortest skirt in your closet when running Eddie his afternoon beer in the garage.

“Well don’t you look absolutely darling…” he says as he peers up from his guitar.

“Hehe,” you smirk connivingly. “Thank you!”

“You are so welcome.”

Eddie downs the liquid guilt along with his pride, watching you strut around…the hem of that pleated cotton fabric just barely covering the roundness of your asscheeks. And as you blush a rosy pink when you process his little remarks, Eddie can only clear his throat in arousal, fantasizing about just how badly he wanted to turn your other cheeks that very shade.

…Or when you come downstairs the next day to help Dad manually wash his car.

While he and Eddie are harassing each other with soap and that god-forsaken hose, you decide to join in on all the fun.

“Watch out, Sunshine,” Eddie forewarns. “You’ve just entered the splash zone!”

And with the intention of cooling you off on a hot summer day like this, Eddie teasingly sprays you with said hose, your white shirt becoming transparent when lathered with water. He could see everything. Your erect nipples. Your perky tits bouncing in the sunlight as you jump around in excitement. How glazed your oil-nnuendo’ed skin looked when glimmering in the sun. All as intended.

“You got me,” you surrender yourself to him. “You got me good, Eddie.”

And when you walk away, Eddie mutters slyly to himself.

“Yes, yes I did.”

…And then there’s dessert after dinner.

Eddie watches as you lick your popsicle, his fingers curling at his thighs in arousal as you retract the wrapper before enclosing your lips around the bright pink dessert. And he swears he’s going to blow his pants when he envisions the melted sugar shooting into your mouth with the swiftest hollowing of your cheeks, the quiet suction noise you make with your pursed lips forcing him to adjust the way he’s sitting.

…The final instance takes the cake.

“What’s your major?”

You’re in the home library grazing some of Dad’s old books and vinyls, talking to Eddie while your father gets ready for the day. Meanwhile, Eddie is perched at your dad’s desk, rolling around in his expensive swivel chair and occasionally doing some spins on it to make you laugh.

“History.”

“Sounds boring.”

“You just haven’t found a topic that interests you,” you point out.

“Mm,” is all Eddie says. “Maybe I will eventually.”

Eddie watches as you waltz around in front of him, following your movements with his eyes as you get onto your tippy-toes in order to grab some books on the top shelf.

“Oh my god!” you yelp.

Your plan to entice him seemingly fails when you graze a book that’s halfway off the shelf. It’s already flying off of its platform, headed straight towards Eddie's lap before you can even stop it.

Eddie catches it before any damage can be done, saving Dad’s old campaign book with the hand furthest from you and snaking the other around your waist to prevent you from sinking any further into him.

Phew. Crisis averted.

Your eyes meet again.

“I’m so sorry, Eddie,” you gasp in embarrassment. “That book has a mind of its own.”

“You’re fine,” Eddie laughs. “Can’t defy the laws of gravity. Sometimes it betrays us.”

You feel yourself burning up a fever. Excusing yourself from the room, you leave Dad’s library and make your way over to the kitchen for a glass of water.

But you’re nearly taken aback when you feel tight, calloused hands wrap around your hips, and like a feather it’s like you’re whisked away into the air, and soon your body is pressed up against the wall.

Slam!

Breathing heavily against each other now — chest to chest, lips so unbearably close you can smell the whiskey — Eddie draws you even closer to him. You both study each other intently. It’s like you’re waiting for the other to say something. Eddie does the honors and speaks first.

“I wasn’t born last night, doll. I was also your age at one point.”

———

To his own despair, Eddie touches himself later that night. Facing your room, he strokes his rock hard cock with his lotioned-up hand, running his thumb across the slit of his head, pretending it’s your tongue giving him a little tease like you did the popsicle.

“Fuuuck,” he grunts quietly. “You like when I fuck your throat, baby? Gonna suck me dry with that pretty little mouth of yours?”

You’re playing make-believe just as much. Because at the same time, in your room, you’re a drooling, pathetic mess, riding your wall-mounted toy to oblivion in your bathroom, legs trembling when the thick, veiny piece of silicone slams into the spongy part of your heat, initiating shock-waves all across your body.

“Eddie,” you find yourself blubbering. “EddieEddieEddieEddie…”

You both know it can’t be like this, but that was the mere thrill of it all. And when you both have overcome your peak, just one mere wall apart, the floodgates of guilt outweighs both your arousals the way it comes pouring in.

So, so wrong. But oh, so right.

You’re anticipating…waiting…aching for Eddie to make the next move.

He doesn’t.

“Going to the store again,” Eddie announces. “Hopefully this time they’ll have beef sausage. Need anything?”

Need you, is what you think. But you end up shaking your head, a part of you disappointed that you and Eddie won’t be able to spend some time alone together.

“No,” there’s defeat in your voice.

“Are you sure?” Eddie questions softly.

“Mhm,” you nod.

“Okay,” he gives you a grin, one in the form of a tight-lipped smile. “I’ll be right back. You be good.”

“Ha-ha,” you roll your eyes.

——

Eddie leaves the door of his room open that night. Just a smidge. You end up following the sound of his TV that he’s placed at a low volume, making out that it’s Seinfeld just by Jerry’s voice and the laugh track.

Your heart skips a beat as Eddie laughs along with the show, shaking his head at a stupid joke. But he shifts his focus immediately onto you when he sees you at the doorway.

“Having some alone time tonight?” you ask him.

“Mmm…not by choice,” he responds. “Tuckered your dad out after dinner doing P90X.”

Eddie follows a crazy workout routine. He says that it helps with his stamina, especially when he does crowd work during his stage performances. Your mind can’t help but wonder what else he may be using it for.

You snort. “Yeah. Dad wasn’t what you’d call an athlete in high school.”

Eddie laughs at that too. Both you and him know that.

He then pats the space on his bed beside him. “Wanna come watch with me?”

Your stomach does a series of cartwheels when you process Eddie’s question. You know what’s bound to happen if you follow through. And it seems Eddie knows it too. Even if there wasn’t any sexual tension between you both already, the concept of it all would rub anyone that way.

But you still follow through with it. Just like Eddie knew you would.

“You comfortable?” Eddie asks you, eyeing you endearingly as you squirm around on the bed.

“Yeah,” you breathe.

“Good…” he replies, voice nearly at a strained whisper now.

You two watch the show in silence for a few minutes, exchanging commentary and pleasantries regarding the show every so often. It’s not too long after Eddie pulls a laugh from you that he starts closing up the space between you both, scooting himself closer…and resting his gruff palm over the base of your knee.

You inhale sharply as he does so. And evident by your refusal to pull away, it’s enough of a green light for Eddie to hike up further.

A soft moan escapes your mouth from the back of your flustered throat, but you bite your lip in restraint.

"I'm sorry," you whisper.

"For what?”

You shrug sheepishly as Eddie continues to graze your thigh. Your breathing falters even more.

“Don’t be scared,” Eddie coos.

“I’m not,” you insist.

“Then what’s stopping you from getting on top of me? Hm?”

He’s in between your legs now, the rough material of his denim jeans riding up your sex, teasing your clit with every calculated rub against it.

“And riding my rock hard cock til those pretty legs give out?” Eddie continues. “I see how you’ve been looking at me, doll. It's all over your face how bad you want it.”

“The bed is squeaky,” you answer honestly. “And that headboard is a lost cause.”

Eddie puts the dirty talk on pause, squirming around to assess the guest bed’s squeak factor. When it checks out, he gives you an understanding nod. You giggle.

Eddie wastes no more time. You watch as he grabs one of the pillows on the bed and wedges it between the wall and headboard. He issues you a sly smile.

“Oldest trick in the book.”

You're back to fooling around shortly after, your aching core burning with lust as you pine for him.

“The boys at school ever touch you this good?” Eddie quips rubbing circles around your puffy, needy folds as you hopelessly cling to him out of pleasure.

“No, Eddie.”

“Didn’t think so.”

He continues to tease, gliding his fingers along your slit before slowly inserting two large digits inside of you.

His calculated pumps into your needy pussy are steady, a pace so agonizingly beautiful that it makes you squeal sweet nothings into the crook of his neck.

"Shh, baby," Eddie hushes you. "Your dad's gonna hear us. Gotta be quiet for me, mkay?"

Your hot, messy, and muffled sounds cease as Eddie soothes your quivering lips with his tender ones.

The wet sounds that ricochet and fill the room in tandem is almost enough to send him over. And Eddie is sure to communicate that… with an abrupt curving of his three thick fingers.

Fuck.

Needing him direly now, you tug helplessly at his pants.

“God, Eddie,” you whimper. “Just fuck me already. Please.”

Eddie laughs at the desperation. He hasn’t ravaged you to his fullest extent yet, and you’re already a pooling mess beside him.

“Well since you said please, sweet girl,” Eddie obliges as he starts to undress himself. “Your wish is my command."

You watch Eddie as reaches over into the bedside drawer for a fresh box of condoms. Looks like the sausage links weren't the only things he went to the store for.

“Oh.”

Eddie chuckles at your observation before shrugging. Can you really blame him? You both knew what was coming.

You watch with absolute lust as Eddie slides the piece of rubber over his long, girthy, throbbing cock. He’s bigger than anyone you’ve ever had before, and the snarky, hooded-eye smile as he watches you fawn reveals to you that he knows exactly how to use it.

"On your stomach, babygirl. Will have you all nice and pounded out just like you wanted.”

You situate yourself in prone and spread your legs for Eddie to line himself up against them. He teases his wrapped cock against the entrance of your pussy, and when his soothing countdown is over, your lips part in disposition as you accommodate his ruinous stretch.

A throaty moan spills out of the both of you the moment Eddie snaps his hips in and out of you. Meanwhile, one of his hands lays tauntingly at your stomach, so the prideful man can feel himself wriggling inside you, glazing his shaft with your slick more and more with every pump into your weak cunt.

"Fuck, Eddie... yes..." you mewl. "R-right there, Eddie, please..."

And then it picks up. You can feel Eddie’s hips practically collapse right onto you, his balls slapping against you as he digs further into your body.

"God damn..." the man sighs in disbelief.

He can only beam down at you in awe. You were taking him so good, pussy swallowing him so nice and tight. And when you nestle your ankles between each other to keep him there in prone, the nearly cries out in pleasure, but refrains because he knows your dad is resting — just a thin wall over.

That still doesn’t stop him from going to town though. Practically seeing stars, the broken record of a mouth that belongs to you chants Eddie’s name like it’s all you know. Eddie attempts to keep you contained, offering you his fingers to suck on as he’s railing you dumb.

And when he fucks you through your climax, Eddie continues with his string of lust-filled praises, satisfied at himself that he was able to make you wet enough to soak the mattress.

“Did so good for me, angel,” he praises you as he sucks at your temple. “Always knew you weren’t all that innocent.”

The griddle comes out again on Eddie’s last day. But this time, for a homestyle southern dinner.

You and Eddie were on mashed potatoes and gravy duty at the stove, an ordeal that only opened doors for lots of innuendos on Eddie’s part. Meanwhile, Dad insisted on making the rest, having taken pride in continuing his Mama’s legacy.

“This is amazing, Daddy,” you rave. “I really missed this. Do you mind passing the salt, please?”

And to your horror, you watch as your father and Eddie automatically extend their arms, bumping into one another in the process en route to getting you the salt.

The gentlemen meet each other’s eyes.

“Ohp!” Eddie exclaims, letting out a slight chuckle. “Sorry.”

You try your hardest not to blush. Eddie kicks you from under the table, and softly he oh-so-seductively he mutters,

“I was just tryna help her out.”

[okay-babe]

Imagine alastor thinks his wife is just the most perfect, angelic being he’s ever met, so he’s downright shocked to fight out she also ended up in hell going “yeah I killed a man once” (he falls even more in love)

A Good Thing, Indeed

tags: alastor x fem! reader, established relationship, alastor and reader are married, angelic reader, protective/possessive alastor, brief human alastor x human reader, fluff, very mild angst note: I went a little overboard with this one, but I hope you enjoy, anon <3 Find a sequel (of sorts) to this fic, here.

Alastor had never quite understood how someone like him had ended up with a woman like you.

You were soft and understanding, utterly ceaseless in your kindness and love of near anyone who crossed your path, a true saint to be sure.

Alastor on the other hand, had always been quite the opposite.

Where you were soft, your lover was unyielding, where you were understanding, he was impatient, and when it came to the capacity for kindness and love within his heart, many would have gone on record stating that there was much to be desired in that regard.

Yet, even still, you chose him, and he, you.

Every. Single. Time.

It was as if the two of you were meant to be.

The proud and charismatic up and coming host of a brand new radio show, and the modest and soft spoken kindergarten teacher that was ever present upon his arm.

To Alastor, you were everything and more, and whether he was willing to admit it aloud or not, he all but worshiped the very ground that you walked upon.

There was so very little worth caring for in a world like the one that he lived in, and yet there you were, a shining beacon of light and hope to keep him from losing his mind over it all (well, at least in part, though he knew deep down that a portion had been missing since long before you'd made your way into his life).

For all of this, Alastor praised you and your love ceaselessly, his appreciation for your union a vast and endless thing that filled him with a sense of pride stronger than any other he'd felt before.

And how could it not?

You were his wife.

You!

The beautiful kindergarten teacher who worked in the public school just down the street from his broadcasting station, the one with the smile that lit up a room and the laugh that could make a man blush.

The one with the students who sung her praises to their parents during pick up and the coworkers turned friends who would utterly gush about her at even the briefest mention of her name.

You.

The woman that no one believed had gotten New Orleans' most prominent radio host to settle down after only just a year of courting, and whose stunning church wedding had been the talk of the town.

You were perfect, you were lovely, and the sweetest part of it all was that you bore his last name.

And oh, what whiplash that must have caused for those who hadn't known of your courtship earlier on. It nearly sent Alastor into a tizzy just imagining it.

The sweet, adoring woman that your son calls his teacher is also the wife of the ever unreadable and notably cold radio host from just down the street that scarcely any could say they truly knew?

How scandalous! Whatever is a woman like her doing with a man like him?!

Well, the answer, quite honestly, was being doted upon nigh endlessly.

If you wanted for even the smallest of things, it would be yours in an instant, and if you desired even the most useless of luxuries, he would have spared no expense to have it in your hands by the end of the day.

And even beyond that, there was the persistent desire to stay by your side, his presence always guaranteed the very moment you mentioned want for it.

An ice cream social at the school where you'd be meeting your new students and their parents? Alastor was there, conversing politely with a few mothers on the difficulties of parenting (in spite of his notable lack of children), making nearly everyone wonder what the hell a famous radio host was doing at the local elementary school.

Visiting Mimzy at her slightly sleazy little lounge in the shadier side of the city? Alastor was there, dressed to the nines, looking immensely out of place as you danced the night away with your friends (and him of course) to your little heart's content.

His love for you was nearly as endless as yours was for the very world beneath your feet, and in spite of himself he couldn't help but fall deeper and deeper in love at every borderline naive action you took.

You want to buy that man a drink because he looks lonely? Certainly darling, your husband would be happy to scare him off all night as the fool tries to make unwanted advances at you that he thinks are warranted thanks to your kindness.

You want to pick a fight with the burly man whose house is on your walk to work because he's been shouting cruel things at his dog nearly every morning for the past several weeks? Oh of course, just let Alastor prepare to use his most unsettling smile while he reaches for the leather sheathed knife he keeps attached to his belt so he can wordlessly threaten the oaf without you ever even realizing.

And so, knowing all of that and having lived such a love-filled few years at your side, how could Alastor ever have believed he might one day see you again once he came to in Hell shortly after his demise?

The short answer was, he couldn't.

And though he would never have been willing to admit such a thing aloud, it utterly shattered a portion of his heart to know he would never see your sweet smile or hear your perfect laugh ever again.

And to imagine what your reaction may have been once the police had informed you of all that he had done?

Well, he tried his best not to.

Because while he couldn't bring himself to regret those he had killed and the things he had done, he did regret having been left with no choice but to keep such a thing from you and leave you with such a mess upon his death.

Certainly you had deserved better, that much he knew.

But there was absolutely nothing he could do about that now.

Or, at least, that's what he had led himself to believe.

Until one day, he'd been broken out of his typical morning routine of brewing his black coffee and digging into a freshly caught deer by the sound of knocking at his door.

There were very few people who knew of where Alastor lived at this point, with him being multiple years removed from life and having firmly cemented himself within society as a powerful and merciless overlord, so honestly it hadn't come as very much of a surprise when he opened the door and found an old friend waiting rather impatiently on the other side.

Mimzy.

Having arrived in Hell not very long after the radio host, the former flapper, (who he had actually met through you), had become a familiar face throughout the past few years as he'd tried to grow accustomed to life without his darling wife at his side.

It was nice, in a way, to have that reminder of you near when he wished for it to be, and so he allowed the sinner to call him something like a friend and offered her protection when it was convenient enough for him that it didn't prove to be a hassle.

Although, today of all days the overlord was certainly a little less than pleased to see Mimzy's familiar face at his doorstep, and he was reasonably certain that she knew why that was.

It was your former anniversary after all, and today would have been your tenth year of marriage had he only lived long enough to reach such a landmark achievement with you.

A smile, strained and thin, descended upon his lips, and, in spite of his feelings, Alastor remained as cordial as ever, albeit rather cold with his words.

"Mimzy, my dear! How wonderful to see you! Whatever could possibly be so important as to have you at my door on a day like today?"

There was a certain level of threat to his tone that no doubt left the woman standing before him floundering for a few seconds, before finally, she mustered up her reply, her smile ever so slightly less confident than before.

"Alastor, just the fella that I was lookin' for!"

The sinner began, placing her right hand upon her hip as she inspected the condition of the nails on her left,

"Now I know ya like to be left alone and all on days like this, but I've got a surprise for ya back at my place that I promise you're gonna wanna see a-s-a-p."

She said with her typical air of confidence, immediately causing the Radio Demon to roll his eyes in response, his facade of interest slipping ever so slightly before he seemed to catch himself once more, ever the gentleman.

"Oh do you now? Well, as utterly transfixed as I am over this little mystery of yours, I'm afraid that I just don't have the time to stop by today. Lot's of things to prepare for the upcoming broad-"

"Alastor."

Mimzy said sternly, cutting the overlord in question off rather uncharacteristically with a glare of her own.

"I know damn well that you don't got nothin' planned for the day, so don't you start fibbin', mista, I can see right through ya!"

She began, quickly changing the subject when she seemed to recall exactly who she was talking to at the increasing sound of static.

"Look, I didn't come here to argue with ya or nothin', so you do whatever it is that you wanna do. I just wanted to come over and warn ya that if you don't come by for a visit by the end of the day you're gonna feel like a real fool, okay?"

She emphasized her warning with a dramatized raise of her brow before she grinned rather wickedly and stepped down off of his doorstep, wiggling her fingers in a teasing little wave as she climbed into the back of the very same taxi she must have used to get to his dwellings in the first place.

"I'll see ya around dollface!"

She called out as the car pulled away, leaving Alastor with quite a few more questions than he'd had upon her already unplanned arrival.

What a fantastic start to one's day.

By the time that Alastor made the decision to actually stop by Mimzy's lounge, it was already dark outside, the subtle chirping of crickets reminding him briefly of home as he walked toward his destination, ever a fan of the more simplistic methods of transportation.

He thought of the sounds of crickets and all of the moments with you that their seemingly endless chirps had backed until their sounds faded away with the increasing sounds of the busier section of the city, wherein Mimzy's place was located.

Just as sleazy and sketchy as it had been above, so it was below, and Alastor felt a sudden sense of longing and familiarity as he stepped inside, the smell of cigarettes and the sound of ever so slightly out of tune jazz music reminding him of his days of swing dancing with you on the cracked dance floor of the place Mimzy had owned and operated in life.

The Radio Demon had only just begun to contemplate what you might have thought of a place like this one when suddenly, he heard a familiar voice call out his name, and he turned to find the lounge's owner walking quickly toward him, a wide grin that nearly rivaled his own splitting her cheeks.

"Well would you look who it is, Alastor the Radio Demon here in my lil' lounge, what a lucky lady I must be!"

Mimzy teased as she shouted over the obnoxiously loud music, immediately forcing the man in question to hold back another instinctual roll of his eyes.

"Oh, nonsense, I should think that luck has very little to do with it, my dear."

Alastor drawled, dragging his gaze downward to find his friend standing there, all but vibrating upon her feet, clearly excited by something, though he couldn't quite fathom what in Hell it could possibly be.

That is, until he heard another familiar voice pipe up from somewhere behind him, this one far less anticipated than the last, and by a rather significant margin at that.

"Mimzy?"

It called, an edge of stress to it that had the corners of the overlord's smile twitching downward ever so slightly for the briefest of moments.

Alastor watched as the ex flapper standing before him grinned widely in response to his barely noticeable reaction, her eyes shining as she allowed the person speaking to continue with their question.

"Who did you say the whiskey on the rocks was for?"

The lounge's owner hopped up onto a stool beside where she had been standing, gesturing to the space at the bar near where Alastor was still firmly planted, the ears atop his head twitching ever so slightly as they took in the sound of a voice he'd never thought he'd hear again for the very first time since he'd awoken with them camouflaged within his hair.

"Right here, doll. Speakin' of which, why dontcha c'mere and meet one of my regulars, huh?"

She asked as casually as she could manage, gesturing slightly for the still reeling sinner standing beside the bar to take a seat, which, to her surprise, he actually did, eyes seeking out the source of the voice he was hearing as if in utter disbelief.

And then, much to his shock, there you were.

Sure, you looked different as a sinner, but he would recognize you anywhere, and it certainly helped that your beautiful smile was the very same as he remembered it to be whenever he closed his eyes and found you there waiting for him.

Busy with what was likely a fairly large number of orders that your fellow bartender seemed to be doing very little to try and keep up with, you didn't seem to notice him at first, walking quickly toward your old friend with a glass of whiskey in hand, moving to place it down in front of the ever so prominent Radio Demon absentmindedly when suddenly, you froze, your hand still wrapped around the chilled cup.

The two of you stared at one another for several long moments, eyes widened and breaths halting entirely, until finally Mimzy spoke up from Alastor's right, her laughter obnoxious beside his ear, though he could scarcely bring himself to care with his gaze locked so heavily onto yours.

"Happy anniversary, ya lovebirds! Didn't expect that, didja?!"

She all but cackled, causing you to break eye contact with your husband to gawk at your friend.

"Wait a second, you knew he was here the whole time and didn't tell me?!"

You cried, hand flying to your mouth as Alastor began to regard the woman sitting beside him with a hugely threatening glare, the frightfulness of which was only increased by his unyielding grin, which was beginning to appear more and more malicious by the second.

"Woah woah woah, hold your horses!"

Mimzy shouted, waving her hands all about as if in surrender as she looked back and forth between the two of you nervously,

"She only just got down here this mornin' I swear!"

She explained hurriedly to the overlord beside her, causing the man's eye to twitch with effort as he struggled not to tear his old friend limb from limb while her entire bar watched on in horror.

Alastor tapped one clawed finger against the bar in front of him, his sharpened teeth appearing even more threatening than usual at his apparent anger over the situation at hand.

"And you didn't think, my dear,"

He began, his voice low,

"That I may have wanted to know sooner?"

The sound of static overtook the lounge as the sinner's anger increased with each word he said, causing everyone, including those hired to play the live music, to flee out the front door, leaving the trio to their own devices within the confines of the now empty space.

This fact worked extremely well for Alastor, who was only growing more enraged with each passing second as he considered the implication of Mimzy's actions further.

Not only had this woman, someone who had dared call him a friend for so many years, betrayed him by keeping your presence unknown, but she had also clearly employed you at her poor excuse for a lounge, and was now acting as if she had done him a favor by allowing him to be in the presence of the very woman he'd married.

The urge to rip the sinner to shreds with his very own claws was immense, and perhaps he even would have done so had it not been for a gentle hand coming to rest upon his forearm, the weight of it felt even through his shirt and coat.

Immediately, he stiffened, the familiarity of the touch so jarring that his previous thoughts of murder ceased within an instant as he turned his head to face you properly.

There, illuminated by the dim and yellowed lights of the bar, stood his wife, a woman who he had never expected to see again after all that he had done.

What good deed must he have committed in life to deserve such a blessing as this?

Surely there was some kind of mistake and someone would be descending from the heavens to collect you soon, an angel sent to Hell on accident by way of some great failure on Saint Peter's fault.

Your husband stared at you for a few moments, as if afraid you might disappear if he so much as blinked, before finally, you spoke up, your lips curving into a slightly nervous smile.

"Let her explain?"

You asked gently, taking up the very same tone you used to when asking your beloved to make an exception to one of his many strict internalized rules for your benefit.

'Stay home with me?'

'Give him a chance?'

'A slightly less violent solution, perhaps?'

(the latter of which he'd heard more often than he was willing to admit).

And this time, as always, he caved almost immediately, giving a rather stern nod of his head before looking toward Mimzy with an obviously strained smile on his lips.

She didn't have long, that was for sure.

If she wanted to explain, she'd better do so quickly.

And that much must have been clear, because the ex flapper started talking just about as fast as she could manage while still remaining intelligible.

And what a tale she spun, indeed.

With hurried words and a remarkably nervous expression the likes of which neither you nor your husband had ever seen Mimzy wear before, the sinner apologized profusely for not telling either of you sooner, promising that she had only been trying to make it a surprise in celebration of your anniversary.

Apparently, she had vastly overestimated how persuasive she could be, and had assumed (rather incorrectly) that Alastor would be much more urgent in his arrival to her lounge after she'd paid him a visit, meaning she hadn't exactly intended to have kept the two waiting so long for the "grand reveal" of her surprise.

And, slowly but surely, as Mimzy explained her thought process, your confusion and your husband's apparent anger all but melted away, both reactions coming to be replaced with something located somewhere between amusement and exasperation.

How very like your friend it was to meddle in such a manner, after all.

You'd missed this.

(Alastor wished dearly that he could say the same, but having been stuck alone with it for several years, he couldn't quite relate.)

Still, even he had to admit that Mimzy's actions were something far more similar to misguided kindness than intentional ill will.

Though, there was still one issue that was still bothering him...

"Mimzy."

Alastor interrupted the sinner in the middle of her ramble, watching as she immediately shut her mouth and looked up at him, a familiar bout of nervous laughter falling from her lips as she wrung her hands together.

Seeing that she was paying attention, the overlord continued,

"I understand what you were going for with your..." He trailed off for a moment before hearing you pipe up from where you stood on the other side of the bar,

"Efforts."

How amusing, it seemed that even after years of separation, not even death could sever the almost supernatural ability you had to understand what your husband was trying to say before even he truly did.

Alastor nodded,

"Exactly. But that being said, I struggle to understand one thing."

He leaned toward his old friend slightly, watching her eyes widen as he did so, clearly unsure of what was going to happen next.

"Why, pray tell, my dear, is my wife spending her precious time working at your lounge if you had every intention of returning her to me?"

The possessive tone to his voice made you blush, eyes moving to the ground as you awaited Mimzy's response.

She was quick to answer.

"Great question, dollface!"

She laughed nervously,

"I uh, I guess I kinda figured she'd know if she was down here then you would be too, so I wanted to give her a little bit of a distraction... and maybe get some extra help for a few hours in the meantime."

She admitted quietly, though by the time she was finished speaking, Alastor wasn't paying her much mind anymore, his mind now occupied with what he considered to be a far more pressing issue.

Because now that Mimzy mentioned it...

"Dearest,"

He began, immediately catching your attention as he turned to face you fully, allowing you to take in the sight of him and his new "look" for the first time since your arrival.

You would be lying if you said you weren't a fan, as different as it may have been.

"Speaking of 'down here',"

Alastor continued, amusement dancing within his eyes,

"What exactly are you doing in a place like Hell?"

Your gaze moved downward once more at that, and you cleared your throat awkwardly as you tried to find anything else to focus on.

Eventually though, you gave up, and forced yourself to meet your husband's gaze once more.

"I uh, I killed a parent..."

You muttered under your breath, immediately causing Alastor's eyes to widen slightly in surprise, one of his ears twitching slightly atop his head.

"Pardon?"

He asked in utter disbelief, unable to even begin to comprehend what he was hearing.

You, his beautiful and darling wife, had killed a parent of one of the children you taught?

Utterly unbelievable, perish the thought.

You sighed, crossing your arms in a mix of embarrassment and frustration,

"I killed a parent, Al. Lucy and Arnold's father. He was beating on them and their mama something fierce, and I saw the opportunity to put a stop to it one night when walking over to the station after work... He went down the alley between the grocers and the tailor to take a shortcut home or something like that, and I just followed him before I even knew what was really going on..."

You sounded hesitant as you spoke, eyes downcast once more until without a word, your husband pressed his gloved index finger to your chin, raising your gaze to his own once more so you could see the utter awe present there.

He was positively enamored.

"You killed Harry Wells?"

He asked, shock still coloring his tone as he watched you for your reaction.

Slowly, after a few seconds of contemplation, you nodded, cheeks still pink as you did your best to keep from trying to avoid Alastor's heavy gaze.

"I uh, yeah. I did."

The overlord sitting across from you chuckled softly, a sound that slowly grew in volume and exuberance until he was laughing outright, the familiar sound music to your ears even as he sighed and wiped a tear from his eye afterward, something he had done often in life.

He grinned even wider at you than before, the pride in his eyes obvious as he shook his head as if still in disbelief.

"And to think,"

He began, reaching across the counter to grab both of your hands so he could pull you closer, your forearms resting against the bar countertop.

"I hadn't thought it possible to love you any more than I already did."

You laughed at that, pressing your forehead against your husband's with a sigh,

"Well in that case, I suppose it's a good thing that I have all of eternity to prove you wrong, huh?"

Alastor chuckled softly, humming as he took in the sight of you, as if trying to commit each individual detail to memory.

"A good thing, indeed, dear heart."

[chwylaven]

How would Lamb react if Nari dies??

To say hell breaks loose might be an understatement–

False alarm

If roles were reversed (I had to):

This took awhile since I went overboard it was supposed to be simple doodles 😔

Yes their hair wooltie snapped by the second panel just like my sanity

[uzurakis]

can u do how jjk boys (include megumi PLEASE) would react to you getting all pretty and dolled up to go out (and u just look soooooooooo good)

TOO PRETTY TO BE TRUE!

featuring: fushiguro megumi. gojo satoru. geto suguru. nanami kento. itadori yuuji.

n. your wish is my command nonnie, and ya don’t need to say megs cause i’ll ALWAYS include him in every shit that i write (he comes in one package okay) and.. I WENT OVERBOARD WRITING THIS HELPLEP i usually limit to 4 charas every post but yours made my creative space going and I HAD TO DO 5.. so thank you for that. i looooveee the idea mwah mwah i hope the writing makes justice for your cute hc <3

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. you were running late; a girl's usual problem before a date. your hands fumbled with the clasp of your earrings, and shit, you cursed softly under your breath. outside, you knew your boyfriend was waiting patiently, or so you hoped. the idea of keeping him waiting made you anxious, but you wanted everything to be perfect.

just as you finished adjusting your hair, you heard the front door creak open. fushiguro’s soft footsteps echoed through the hallway, and you felt a twinge of panic. he never liked to intrude, but his curiosity had gotten the best of him. "hey, what’s taking so long?" you heard him mutter.

you turned around just as he reached the doorway to your room. his eyes widened, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. fushiguro's usual stoic expression melted into one of pure surprise. his cheeks turned a delicate shade of pink, and his mouth opened slightly, but no words came out.

"is everything okay?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the sudden flutter in your chest.

megumi blinked, finally finding his voice. "a-ah, yeah, everything’s fine," his eyes remained locked on the ground while he stammered. how in the hell did this place get so hot? he thought to himself as he fiddled with his shirt collar.

"you look… um, really pretty."

"no, i mean, don't get me wrong though! you're al-"

you blushed at his earnestness, but you also smiled. "you too, gumi."

the guy scratched the back of his neck awkwardly but managed a small smile in return. "sorry i kinda barged in,” gently, he reached his hand to you and said, “next time, take all the time you need. i’ll wait.”

GOJO SATORU. "well, well, look at you," someone called out, sauntering over with an exaggerated attitude. "you really went all out for our little date, huh?"

you couldn't help but smile as you rolled your eyes. "aand you didn't even bother to dress up," you teased back, gesturing to his usual attire. “so lame for the gojo satoru, boo-hoo.”

"why would i need to dress up when i have the most gorgeous person in the world right here?" the guy stepped closer, taking your hand and spinning you around playfully. "you look soo good, i kind of want to take you home right now. can’t have everyone else stealing glances at my date."

a giggle managed to escape your lips, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. "you're ridiculous, toru," shaking your head at him.

then he leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, one that could captivate a soul. "but seriously, you look amazing. i'm the luckiest guy here."

you swatted at his arm playfully, but your heart swelled from his words. "alright, mr. smooth talker, where are we going?"

gojo straightened up, still holding your hand. "anywhere you want, as long as i get to show you off. but maybe we’ll head home a bit early, just in case," and of course, he didn’t forget to wink.

ITADORI YUUJI. a knock on your door sent a jolt of excitement through you. you had taken extra time to get ready for your date with itadori tonight in the hopes of surprising him. he was standing there with an enormous smile on his face as you opened the door.

“bless me!” his pink eyes widened with admiration. “you look beautiful as always, baby.”

your cheeks heated beneath his surprising compliment. "nah, baby, that’s too much."

his enthusiasm contagious, he practically bounced on his toes. “i’m serious! you’re soo pretty that i might die from your prettiness—is that an actual word—but look at me, i'm serious!”

as you stepped outside, itadori kept showering you with compliments. "that outfit is perfect on you. and your hair! you’re always cute, but.. you really shine tonight."

“you’re too sweet, yuu,”

"i mean it! you deserve to hear it every day baby!”

NANAMI KENTO. you were putting the finishing touches on your makeup when you heard a firm knock at the door. taking a deep breath, you walked over and opened it to find nanami standing there, his usual composed demeanor softened by a warm smile.

his eyes swept over you, taking in every detail. "you look beautiful, sweetheart." he said simply, sincere and direct. the compliment made your heart skip a beat.

"thank you, kento," goddamn, a gentleman is always a gentleman.

he stepped closer, his gaze never leaving yours. "i appreciate the effort you put into this. it means a lot to me." his smile widened just a fraction, but the warmth in his eyes spoke more than his words could.

you smiled back, touched by his straightforwardness. "it’s because i’m excited to spend time with you."

nanami nodded, offering his hand. "shall we go?"

you sensed serenity and joy as soon as you held his hand. "i’m glad you liked it," you said softly as you both made your way down the street.

GETO SUGURU. “fucking hell, you look so pretty,” he swore under his breath, emerald orbs wide as he took in your appearance. “too pretty to be true.”

“hmm, you think so, suguru?” a little teasing might not hurt, right? his usually calm and composed expression shifting to one of pure astonishment the moment he saw you. and there it is again, his usual up-to-no-good grin.

he stepped closer, his gaze intense and cocky with that smile of his. “oh, you’re mine,” he declared, voice firm yet filled with a protective tenderness. “definitely mine.”

your heart skipped a beat at his sudden possessiveness, yet you couldn't help but feel a rush of delight at his words. “i’m yours,” you confirmed softly, tippy toeing to peck his cheeks.

he pulled your waist gently into his hook, grip both protective and warm. “i just… i don’t want anyone else looking at you like this,” the words were murmured, his lips brushing against your hair. “you’re too beautiful.”

you leaned into him, feeling safe and cherished in his embrace. “i only want you to look at me like this, suguru.”

he smiled, a rare and genuine expression that lit up his face. “good. because i’m not letting you go.” he pulled back slightly to look into your eyes. “let’s go, princess."

@uzurakis

[koqabear]

For the 2k event I would love to see football player!taehyun x cheerleader! Y/N and idc what the scenario is I would just love to see some spicy smut 🥵🥵 thank you!

[2K Masterlist]

"How not to scare off the stupid flirt that won’t leave you alone."

football player!Taehyun x fem!cheerleader!reader // wc: 5.7K // genre: college au, one-sided enemies to lovers, smut, MDNI.

warnings: i glanced over it does that count as a proof read, slight himbo tyun, (?!) mans a munch, switchy/kinda sub leaning service top! tyun (!!!?), switchy/dom leaning! mc, strength kink, degrading, praise, oral (f. rec.), dry humping, hair pulling, begging, bondage, creampies, overstimulation, lmk if i should add anything!

notes: went just a bit overboard rawr

Taehyun— star player of the football team, a total womanizer and flirt— has taken an interest in you. 

It was only a matter of time before he set his sights on you, wasn’t it? The cute cheerleader who was nothing short of energetic and endearing, waving your pom poms excitedly and sporting a bright smile on your face that never ceased at every game— you were easily the smartest person there, given a full-ride scholarship and spending your weekdays cooped up in the library studying, a complete switch from the preppy persona you put on display for the students and families in the bleachers, never giving anyone the time of day and focusing solely on your studies— in short, you were entirely unattainable.

Which only served to entice Taehyun more.

You never gave in to any of Taehyun’s advances— every wave, greeting, or call of your name was strictly ignored; any attempts to be friendly with you were thrown straight into the gutter by a single glare of yours, and Taehyun found himself lucky on the days you would even look at him willingly. 

Of course, your withering glares and upturned nose as you walked away from every approach would have any sane person tucking their tail and giving up immediately— but Taehyun wasn’t just anyone, and he found that it was quite fun to try and rile you up whenever he saw you— in and out of uniform— and it made his friends wonder if he was simply a masochist. 

“Dude, she looks like she’s ready to blow you up with her mind every time she sees you,” Yeonjun told him once, recounting the way you sneered at Taehyun the moment he tried to interact with you after the game, yet another successful win under their belts, “you mean to tell me you’re into that?”

Taehyun never bothered to deny such accusations; why would he, when he felt himself smile a little wider every time you told him to get lost, or would feel himself eager to chase after you when you would simply turn on your heel and walk the opposite direction whenever you made eye-contact with him? And if he spent nights staying up and thinking about the way your bright smile lit up the stadium and the bow on your head would bounce cutely with each stunt you performed, that was no one else’s business but his own. 

To Taehyun, you were the most refreshing part of every game; to you, Kang Taehyun was a stupid tick you just couldn’t get rid of. 

All charming smiles and smooth flirty lines— you were warned of him by your team, you knew that he was nothing but trouble the moment the rumors of his reputation started swimming around from ear to ear— a cocky D1 athlete that couldn’t stick to a single girl for more than a few days. 

So how is it possible that he’s still bothering you? He’s been after you since the season started, following you around dumbly and trying to get you to cave with even dumber lines you know he’s used on other girls. You never even bothered to bat an eye at him— you’ve never spoken to him past a snide remark telling him to get lost; you’ve shown negative interest in him, but even so, you still catch him staring at you with stars in his eyes. 

“Hey,” Taehyun says, managing to catch you after the home game has ended; still in your full face of makeup, so tired that you haven’t even bothered to change out of your uniform yet— you sneer on instinct, turning on your heel and walking the opposite way you were heading, even if it meant taking the farther exit— but Taehyun simply runs after you, not fazed in the slightest at your behavior, “Great game today, right? You guys were awesome. Your routines were super cool.”

“They’re the same ones we’ve been doing for a while now.” you comment dryly, tugging your duffle bag’s strap over your shoulder more; Oh, you can hear Taehyun mumble softly— you wonder if this is the moment he decides it's no longer worth it to pursue you. But again— things are never that simple for you. 

“Still, I just never get tired of watching you.”

You falter; Taehyun senses it, just like you sense his searing gaze on your face. 

“You’re not supposed to be watching me,” is all you’re able to say, albeit softly, a lot weaker than your usual dismissive tone.

“I know,” Taehyun hums softly, tilting his head as he continues to watch you, analyzing your expression acutely, “it’s just hard not to.”

Alright, you find yourself thinking, coming to a complete halt the moment you feel your heart fluttering hopelessly, this has to stop.

“Wow. Smooth,” you say apathetically, pursing your lips in distaste and observing the man before you— his relaxed, cocky demeanor, the lazy smile that pulls at his lips, his head that tilts curiously, grown out hair covering his eyes and hiding what he might be thinking— and you scoff, voice dripping with distaste as you continue, “how many girls has that line worked on already?” 

“None. One, maybe,” Taehyun quickly says, taking a step closer to you, until you’re able to smell him, the natural musk mixed with the fading scent of his cologne, “if she decides to give me a chance.” 

Your lips press together, your face unimpressed; he raises a brow at you, as though asking for an answer— swiftly, you roll your eyes and ignore his silent queues. 

“Not happening.” you’re turning around again, your pace must faster now, “go bother someone else who’s willing to be part of your roster.”

“I don’t want someone else,” Taehyun groans, jogging after you and placing himself in front of you, just so you’ll actually give him the time of day, “I just want you.”

“Oh really?” you laugh mockingly, entirely unconvinced by this act he seems to be putting up, “So if I fuck you, will you finally stop throwing a tantrum over something you can’t have?” 

He’s stunned; with hands on your hips, you step closer to him, getting up in his face as you continue to taunt him. 

“Are you gonna get bored and dump me after? Hmm?” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest and taking a step back— Taehyun remains bewildered. “You’re probably not even worth it, actually.”

Just like he did earlier, you raise a brow; mocking him, waiting for him to respond as you tap your foot impatiently— instead, he remains silent, eyes scanning your face, as though waiting for you to say something else— you roll your eyes and shake your head, more than ready to push past him and finally go shower in the comfort of your own apartment. 

Your shoulder almost pushes against Taehyun’s body as you go to leave— but you’re stopped in your tracks before you can get the last say, a strong grip on your bicep keeping you still and turning your body around roughly— your duffle bag swings and the strap falls down your arm at the action.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” Taehyun says, leering down at you with dark eyes— he’s irritated, teeth gritted and brows knitted together as he speaks.

“Awh, is your ego wounded now?” you ask, pouting and batting your eyes at him, feeling his fingers dig into your skin as a result, “does it hurt your big macho pride to get rejected?”

Taehyun doesn’t say anything to that— his eyes seem to do the talking for him, narrowed dangerously at you, but even so, you still don’t care to take the hint. 

“Or— don’t tell me,” you make a point to lower your voice to a whisper, looking around skeptically for anyone else that could hear— but, the stadium was empty at this point, “did I hit too close to home? Oh no, are you that bad of a fuck?”

Taehyun’s jaw is clenched; he takes one look at your pouting, pitied face, at his fingertips that dig into the muscle of your bicep, and inhales slowly— and with one last glance around the area, he turns away and begins to roughly tug you along. 

“Woah— hey– hey, what the fuck do you think you’re doing—?!” 

You’re yelling and bitching at him, slapping at his shoulder and calling him names he could never come up with himself— and yet, you stumble along, refusing to take your arm out of his loosening grip— your actions speak louder than your (abrasive yet creative, Taehyun will admit) words; you’re curious, and Taehyun can already picture the look on your face the moment he finally brings the two of you into the empty locker room he previously raced out of just to look for you.

“What the hell man?” you yell, allowing yourself to be tugged further into the room, straight to a secluded corner that you immediately get backed up in; his hands are on your shoulders as he presses you firmly against the metal lockers, your back arching to get away from the uncomfortable feeling— he’s got you caged in with his body, unable to do anything more than press your hands against his chest in an attempt to keep your distance. You reluctantly take note of how firm his muscles feel. 

“What’s your deal?” you roll your eyes, noticing that he has yet to explain himself, resorting to glaring down at you with his stupid, big brown eyes, “Is this all you can do? Don’t know how to use your big boy words so you resort to force instead?”

“I should be asking you the same thing,” he suddenly says, his voice quiet and restrained as he eyes you carefully; your eyes widen, as though you weren’t actually expecting him to say anything, “all that talk for someone that doesn’t wanna be here.”

Your body heats up instantly at his words; you feel like a fish out of water with the way your mouth opens and closes, trying to find your rebuttal yet faltering under the heat of his gaze— he looks pissed, as though he’ll pounce on you the moment you say something wrong. 

“I don’t,” you finally say, the words not as confident as you wish they were, “you were the one that dragged me here.”

“Really?” he asks, raising a brow at the way you scoff and glare at him, standing your ground even if you both know you’re lying; his hands fall from your shoulders and he takes a step back, watching as you simply remain there, shocked. 

“Then leave.”

The look on his face is much too smug for your liking. He crosses his arms and smirks, taking another step back and nodding to the other side of the room, telling you that “the exit’s over there.”

You take a step forward, only to hesitate. Your eyes narrow at the sight of him, deep in thought before you finally kiss your teeth in distaste.

“God, you’re so fucking insufferable.”

Taehyun doesn’t get a chance to say anything to that because you’re all but leaping onto him after— you’re taking hastes steps to him and your hand reaches out for his nape, digging into his hair before pulling him in towards you for a kiss; to say he was expecting this would be a lie, but he’s more than prepared to melt into you anyway.

You’re nothing like the sweet and innocent persona you put up for the stadium; you’re insatiable, kissing Taehyun like you were starving, a hand reaching up to place itself on his chest, the feeling welcomed until he realizes something— you’re pushing him back, and before he knows it, he’s the one slamming back into the lockers.

His hand falls onto your hip, the other coming up to cup your jaw; his fingers wander endlessly, going from the pleats of your skirt to the elastic waistband, sly fingertips sneaking beneath before he’s pulling away and reaching down to cup your ass— he’s groaning into your mouth at the feeling, your teeth sinking in retaliation to him groping you like a bitch in heat. 

Taehyun’s mind is racing a million miles a minute; he never actually thought he’d get here, but now that he did, he’s found himself to be feeling ridiculously antsy— he wants to feel you, take his time to memorize every detail of you, but he also wants to perform ever fantasy he’s ever had about you, bad. 

And if he thinks he’s good at masking his desperation from you, he’s wrong. Very, very wrong. You could feel it from the way he kissed you back to the way his dick hardened in what you think is record time, his motions growing hasty as he couldn’t stop feeling you up, as though he’d die if he didn’t go from venturing up your shirt to grabbing at your ass, going back and forth and fucking up your balance completely— at this point, Taehyun was only left against the lockers because you were full on leaning on him.

When you pull away from the kiss, lips swollen and entirely out of breath, Taehyun chases after you; his eyes are low lidded and dazed as he looks at you, confused on why you look at him as though you’ll start laughing any second now. 

“Where’s that smooth guy from earlier?” you taunt, punctuating your words by pressing yourself firmly against him, listening to the quiet hiss you get in return, “you almost made me think that your reputation was actually true.”

God, he’s so predictable. You can barely hold back the smile that tugs at your lips, watching Taehyun’s reaction intently; it was like a light finally turned on in his head, glassed over eyes finally becoming conscious as he blinks at you, words registering in his head and grip slowly become harsher; his hand falls from your face and down to the small of your back, pulling you close and raising a confused brow at you. 

“What reputation?” he asks, the faux innocence making you roll your eyes.

“Oh y’know, just some girls saying shit. That you fuck the living daylights out of them, or whatever,” your hand that was braced against his chest trails up, fingertips going to the underside of his chin to flick his head up playfully— his eyes are pinned on you the entire time, and you giggle mockingly. “But all I see here is a horny teen that gets hard over a little bit of kissing.”

You’re baiting him— it’s so obvious and you both know it, but that doesn’t stop Taehyun from biting the said bait shamelessly, dark eyes glaring daggers at you challengingly as stares you down.

It all happens too quickly for you to process; your positions are being flipped around yet again and your back is slamming into the lockers, letting out a small yelp at the feeling— but it’s all washed out by the sight of Taehyun falling to his knees, pushing your legs open before he’s settling himself between them comfortably— his eyes sparkle under the lights as he looks up at you, the crude contrasting bringing a wave of heat throughout your body. 

“You have no idea how long I wanted to do this,” Taehyun rasps, grabbing your leg before he’s lifting it up, feeling your hand on his shoulder at the unexpected action; he merely chuckles, placing slow, wet kisses from your inner knee before he begins to trail in— once he’s at your inner thighs, he slings your leg over his shoulder leisurely, sucking and biting at the skin before mumbling against it, “fucking dreamed about this.”

His words are pathetically effective— your panties feel uncomfortably stuck to your cunt, and the anticipation of feeling Taehyun’s mouth there definitely isn’t helping.

“Bullshit,” you grit, your free hand reaching down to lace into his hair; your nails scratch along his scalp and pull at his roots, and Taehyun shivers at the feeling, “god, do your other hookups like it when you say this shit?”

Beneath your skirt, he shakes his head, fingertips digging into your thighs at the thought. You’re trying to provoke him, it’s obvious, yet Taehyun can’t help but get irritated at the fact that you seem to be focusing on everything but him. “You’re the only one I’ve ever talked to like this,” he says, pulling out from under your skirt to bring your panties down, dragging them slowly until they’re finally off— you note with wide eyes that he immediately pockets them. “I’m usually not much of a talker.”

“But if you hate it that much, I can be quiet,” he murmurs, beginning to go back to your cunt again, bunching your skirt at your hips so you can get a good view of him— his doe eyes flicker up at you, and you swear he must know what that does to you as he continues. “I can be whatever you want me to be.”

The dry laugh you let out comes out shaky and breathy; his affect on you is so obvious, yet you still seem to want to hide it all under this persona of yours, digging your heel in his back and tilting your hips closer to his face— he oggles at how visibly wet you are, a soft hiss leaving his lips as you pull at his hair, not giving him a chance to react before you’re pushing him in to where you need him the most. 

If you’re finally gonna give in to this stupid student athlete, it’s going to be on your terms. At least that’s what you tell yourself, a shaky moan escaping you and your grip tightening on Taehyun’s hair— he really doesn’t want to waste any time, you note.

His mouth feels like heaven; he’s quick to lick a stripe across your cunt, tongue digging at your needy hole before he comes up to your clit, licking at it teasingly until he finally hears you whine. His lips are soft and plump as he places messy kisses at your clit, his hands digging into your thighs in an attempt to stop you from shifting around so much— if anything, his bruising grip only serves to rip out another moan from you.

“S-shit, Taehyun— just like that, ah,” your moans are just as pretty as you— Taehyun feels like he’s in a daze as he presses closer against you, sucking your clit harshly and listening to the sweet whine you let out— he can feel his cock twitching pathetically in his pants, hips bucking at the air as his mouth moves down to your entrance. 

“Fuck!” your eyes screw shut as you feel Taehyun’s tongue enter you, the tip of his nose pressing against your clit as he nuzzles into your cunt, as though he could get further inside your pussy. The sighs and grunts he lets out aren’t lost on your ears either, cunt clenching desperately against him as you begin to wriggle out of his grip without realizing. 

“Mmmh, pretty face was meant to get fucked,” you groan out, the words slipping out of you without control. Your hips rock and grind against him, dazed eyes watching as his hold on you loosens and his tongue lolls out; watery eyes flicker back up to look at you, glowing from your compliment. 

Taehyun thinks that he could die happily like this. Your cunt is so sweet, so wet, the glide of it against his face enough to have him throbbing painfully in his pants. His jaw aches and it’s getting hard for him to breathe, but even then he refuses to stop— the sight of you is like a dream come true for him to pull away now. 

You’re so close— it’s evident by the way your hips start bucking against his face harshly, nails digging into his scalp as you push him closer, impossibly close— your mouth is left open, soft moans turning into curses as your leg tries to hook him in further, pressing against the firm muscles of his back— Taehyun’s eyes flutter shut, and before he can really second guess himself, he pulls away. 

The wet sound of his mouth leaving your dripping cunt should have you curling away and cringing in embarrassment. Instead, the only thing you can muster is a cry of his name, the sound venomous and disappointed as you glare down at the boy. 

“Sorry,” he says, voice broken and raspy, a panting and blushing mess, “I just— fuck, I need you.”

You’re left speechless at his desperation— but Taehyun doesn’t seem to mind, getting back up to his feet before he’s grabbing at your waist and leaning in to kiss you; you can feel how hard he is against you, and it allows you to snap into your senses as you go up to place your hands against his chest once more; pulling away, you push against him in order to get him to walk— he obeys immediately.

“Geez, you give a guy a chance and he starts acting like a little virgin,” you sneer, noting with a flip of your stomach that Taehyun only grins, unaffected by your jab. You’ve led him to the edge of the bench set in the middle of this small area, pressing down on his shoulders and getting him to sit down; he watches with stars in his eyes as you straddle his lap, sitting your dripping cunt over his bulge firmly. “Am I gonna have to put in all the work here?”

“I mean,” Taehyun trails off, his hands finding purchase on your ass and beginning to guide you to rock against him; his teeth sink into his lip and his eyes darken as he takes in the sight, drawing a gasp out of you as he bucks his hips up. Looking back up at you, his face is happy and sweet. “You really don’t have to. But it’s kinda hot to get bossed around by you though— just thought you were more into that.”

Your jaw ticks. Without warning, you push him down against the bench, hovering over him and placing your hands on his waistband as you begin to undo his jeans.

“Quite a weird way to try and play off that you’re my bitch,” you grit out, tugging at his boxers and watching his cock spring out— he groans, hips bucking up at the feeling, his tip a pretty pink that throbs and leaks pathetically.

Taehyun laughs softly, watching with awe as you spit in your palm and slowly begin to stroke him; his head falls back and his eyes screw shut, noting with coy satisfaction that your hand doesn’t fully wrap around him. 

“Yeah, I’m your bitch,” he sighs out, his hands flying to your waist and getting him to sit on his thighs, “fuck, you’re too good at this.”

God, he’s so stupid; giving in to all your taunts without much of a fight, sucked in entirely by the feeling of your hand that pumps his length so slowly, tightening your hold on him and twisting, squeezing his tip teasingly— his hands reach up to cover his face before he can stop himself, pretty hands obscuring his heated face and parted lips that let out soft sighs of pleasure. 

“Don’t hide from me now,” you say, reaching up to pry his hands away, his eyes fluttering open before locking with yours, “you look so good like this.”

His eyes widen, the tips of his ears reddening with a cute blush; your praise is so unfamiliar, yet it renders him weak and needy for more, reaching out to grab your waist to scoot you up more— your cunt is touching his length by the time you scold him to stop, though he doesn’t seem to care much for your orders as he begins to fuck his hips against you.

“C’mon, just fuck me already,” he groans, your eyes as big as saucers as he continues to whine and beg. “Aren’t you supposed to like, use me and stuff?” 

This… is not what you were expecting from him. 

You’re sure the words are written across your face too, the incredulous look you give him making him shrink slightly, as though he was just now realizing what he was saying. 

But before he can backtrack and say something monumentally stupid to cancel it out, you grin, hovering over his lap and grabbing at his cock, lining it up with your entrance and taking in the way he visibly shudders. 

“You sound so cute when you’re begging,” you say, running his tip along your slit, allowing it to collect your growing arousal, the sound loud to both of you, “y’know, I would’ve given you a chance much earlier if you acted all nice and cute like this from the start.

“That player persona of yours wasn’t really my thing.”

The head of his cock finally breaches your entrance; Taehyun moans at the feeling of you finally sinking on him, able to feel the way he stretches you out the further you take him in, wet and warm walls fluttering with each gentle push. 

“Mmh,” your brows are furrowing at the feeling, not expecting him to be so damn thick— but you took him in regardless, putting on an apathetic front even if you were on the verge of melting on top of him— you can feel him twitch inside you, a weak whimper escaping you as his hands dig into your thighs, digging into the flesh cruelly once he finally bottoms out. 

“God, you’re fucking perfect,” Taehyun breathes out, hissing through his teeth once you finally start moving; your hips are methodical, your movements cruelly calculated as you rise slowly, leaving him waiting for a second before you slam back down— his legs jump, your body bouncing from the motion. 

You can’t help but laugh at the sight of him; he’s the definition of fucked out, sweat that beaded at his hairline causing strands of hair to stick to his skin, chest heaving and teeth digging into his lips with every bounce on his cock— when you start to set a pace, you note with annoyance that Taehyun just can’t stop trying to take over, his hands traveling to your waist to try and guide you, his hips fucking up to meet your pace. It’s endearing, for a moment, but then you find that he begins to get too handsy, his hands now lost underneath your shirt and trailing over your breasts curiously.

“Okay now, don’t get too ahead of yourself,” you chide condescendingly, stopping your pace and sinking onto him, your weight fully on him as you swat his hands off. Taehyun begins to protest immediately, groaning about how mean and unfair you’re being. His hands attempt to go back to your waist, but you slap them off again, giving him a glare that makes him pout at you. 

Thoughts on how to get him to listen to you course through your mind, unsure of what to do until one hits you like a freight train. 

Taehyun watches in confusion as you reach for your hair, unsure of what to make of the sly smile on your face— it’s only once he sees the pretty bow unravel from your head that his eyes widen in understanding. 

“Oh no,” he mutters, your smile only growing wider as you reach for his hands— he retaliates, bringing his wrists together and just outside your reach, “oh hell no, c’mon!”

“Give me your hands,” you huff, lips pressing together in annoyance as he shakes his head and puts them over his head instead, just out of your reach, “give me your hands or I walk out right now.”

Taehyun knows how you are. You’re completely serious about that. 

“C’monnnn,” he groans, reluctantly offering his hands out for you to take. He watches with a petulant look as you wrap the ribbon around his wrists, tying them together so quickly he’s barely able to process what you’re doing, “please, I just wanna touch you.”

You ignore him, adding the final touch with careful hands; the bow on his wrists is just as pretty as the proud smile on your face, he notes bitterly. 

“Perfect,” you murmur to yourself, pushing his bound hands against his chest, holding onto them for leverage as you begin to move again; you can practically see all the thoughts leave his mind as he feels you around him, sucking him in and clenching with each prod against your sweet spot, hips angling so you’re hitting it perfectly. 

With a cruel curiosity, you shift on top of him, a hand holding his wrists down while the other drags his shirt up— though expected, you can’t help but whistle at the sight, running a hand over his abs, watching eagerly as he flinches from the contact. Without much of a thought, you bend down to place a kiss on his stomach, laughing at the soft whine you get in return. Sitting back up, you go back to the pace you set before, satisfied by the flustered man you see beneath you. 

Your nails are digging into his wrists; the orgasm he took from you is quickly building back up, your lips swollen and shining from how bitten they are— your cunt gushes around him, a ring beginning to form at the base of his length; Taehyun’s eyes roll back at the sight. 

The pretty moans you’re letting out and the tight grip your pussy has on him is making it impossible for him to last— he’s only a bit behind you as you feel your knees begin to become weak, your pace inconsistent as you grind on him in search of more.

“M’close… fuck…” you breathe out, hovering over Taehyun and caging him in— the roles have been reversed now, your elbows on each side of his head holding you up as you press yourself against him, your pace agonizingly slow as you lean down to kiss him— it’s sloppy and neither of you are entirely in your right minds, pathetically moaning into each other’s mouths the closer to your peak you get.

It’s nice to feel the heat of your body against his, but what you’re doing now simply isn’t enough for Taehyun. And though he knows you strictly forbade him, he can’t help himself from reaching down to grab your side, startling you and forcing you to sit up in confusion. 

“Sorry, I just— I’m so close, I need more,” he says, fingers digging into your side and thighs flexing beneath you— his brows furrow in concentration and next thing you know, he’s fucking up into you. 

The yelp you let out only makes Taehyun’s cock twitch inside you— you sound so good like this, overwhelmed and ruined, unable to stop or control the way he bucks his hips up into you, his hands on your side forcing you to come down on him with every thrust— you’re falling forward and pressing down on his chest in an attempt to not lay on him entirely, and Taehyun thinks that he might’ve just gotten the sight of you bouncing on top of him ingrained into his mind now.

“Oh fuck, you keep fucking squeezing me— are you close? Yeah? I am too,” he moans, watching as you hang your head and dig your nails into his skin— you’re both soooo close, Taehyun can feel it— and before he can second guess himself, words spill from his mouth in a desperate haste. 

“Can I cum inside you?” he asks, your eyes snapping open at the question— they meet his stupid, shiny round eyes, turned completely glassy as he tilts his head, his pace never ceasing for a second. “Can I, can I please? You’re so pretty, feel so good, c’mon, just wanna fill you up like you deserve—”

“Shit, yeah,” you whine, not needing much convincing in the first place to agree. “Fill me up, c’mon tyunnie, wanna be full—!”

The sound of the cute nickname coming from you sets Taehyun off instantly; his cock bottoms out and his hand slams your body down, your faint gasp barely registering in his mind as he finally cums— and it’s so much, spurts and spurts of warm cum filling you up and setting you off seconds after. 

When Taehyun feels your cunt fluttering around him, he helps you ride it out; even if it means his eyes get watery and his cock hurts with every thrust into you. He still does it, the overstimulation a small price to pay for being able to watch you fall apart on top of him, moaning out his name so nicely that he never wants it to be said by anyone that’s not you from now on. 

You’re an out of breath, sweaty mess by the time you finally come to your senses— well, kind of. You’d still rather not accept that womanizing student athlete Taehyun finally succeeded in getting in your pants. Maybe now he’ll finally leave you alone; you try to ignore the disappointed pang you get in your stomach from the thought. 

Beneath you, Taehyun simply pants, eyes closed in a sweet bliss; when they open back up, he looks at you with such fondness you can’t help but startle. 

“Can I take you out on a date?”

Your eyes widen, and you try to pretend as though the question doesn’t immediately lift up your mood. (Though the way your lips quirk up in an amused smile is definitely a giveaway.)

“You ask this now?” you say, crossing your arms and letting out a soft tsk, “I feel like it’s supposed to go the other way around.”

Taehyun smiles, and you can’t resist the contagious sight.

“I know. Sorry for being so irresistible.”

Your smile drops.

“Just for that, I’m saying no.”

“Waitwaitwait—” You make a move to get off Taehyun, but are stopped immediately with his hands on your side, forcing you to stay put the best you can— he tugs you back into him, cradling your face and ignoring your protests to let go.

“I lied, I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry,” he coos, smiling at the way you continue to glare at him; so cute, he thinks, unable to stop himself from craning his neck up and placing a peck on your lips— you melt instantly, giggling softly and placing a peck of your own on the tip of his nose.

“I’ll see you after practice then.”

[itoshiexx]

when you call them "husband" - part. 2

how the blue lock boyfriends react when you call them "husband" - part 2

pairings: itoshi rin, michael kaiser, mikage reo x fem!reader (no descriptions tho, just the words "wife" on rin's part) (separate) | warnings: established relationship, fluff, lovesick boys

notes: I'M ALIVE! i cant believe how long it's been since i had time/energy/creativity to write something, ohmy goddddddd. i'm so sorry for all the time it took to post this, but i wanna ty all so much for all the love on part 1 and all the requests for part 2! hopefully this will meet your expectations ♥ as always, i went a lil' overboard with rin's part. enjoy!

part 1 / masterlist

Itoshi Rin

rin was not a fan of social media. it was clear with the way his instagram only had 8 pictures despite being years since his career started, and even more so by the fact he had no other social media besides that. if he wasn’t so famous, people would say itoshi rin was a ghost or some artificial intelligence invention. 

it was one of the reasons people were very shocked when he started dating you, an influencer with millions of followers on every platform. rin was a private person, and you… well, you shared your life on the internet for everyone to see. to say you were polar opposites was an understatement.

however, you never forced your boyfriend to appear in any of your socials, only recording things for your own fun and memories and posting only what he allowed. rin was glad for that. he didn’t mind doing dumb things with you to see you smile, as long as the rest of the world couldn’t see how whipped he was for you.

also, you were kind of glad the professional athlete was so unaware of social media, because it meant you could do a lot of tiktok trends without the risk of him already knowing what was coming — which made everything more satisfying. 

and the trend you chose that day was especially good.

“hey everyone, it’s y/n here!” you chirped, waving your hands in front of your phone. however, you were actually recording rin, who was at the other side waiting for your sign to appear on the screen.

you continued speaking. “today i have a very special guest, who i’m sure you’re all very familiar with.” you gave the camera a little cheeky wink, and your boyfriend rolled his eyes with all your theatrics. “please welcome itoshi rin, my handsome husband!”

rin gave a step forward to start his way to you, but suddenly, his whole body froze, brows furrowing in what you could only call utmost confusion. silence took over the room for what felt like an eternity, and you had to suppress your laugh seeing the imaginary ‘loading’ wheel on his head.

rin.exe stopped working.

“baby?” you decided to intervene, honestly a little scared of how immobile rin was.

“you— i’m— did you just— did we—”

you could no longer hold your laughter, and rin’s favorite melody echoing through the walls of your shared apartment was probably what snapped him out of his trance. he immediately scowled and crossed his arms, cheeks burning red from his pathetic stutter.

“i am never doing these dumb videos with you again.”

“no, no, i’m sorry!” your giggles kept going, and you approached your pouty boyfriend, squishing his cheeks between your hands. the smooch you gave him was almost enough to make him melt. almost. rin still had some self respect.

he also didn’t want to admit how abnormally fast his stone heart was beating with the mere thought of being referred to as your husband — and, even better, referring to you as his wife. 

fuck. that certainly did make him feel lots of things. those stupid butterflies that were born the minute you met were roaming freely in his stomach, soaring with all the love he had harbored just for you. 

“i’m sorry, baby,” you said again, smiling like you swallowed the sun and all things good in this world. you might as well have. how else could rin explain the way you were his everything? “it was a prank i saw on tiktok.”

he arched his eyebrow, arms uncrossing to put his hands on your waist. “oh? so you don’t want me to be your husband?”

the itoshi was satisfied to see you flushing this time. “i— w-well, you see…”

and then you started rambling, just like you did every time something made you nervous. and rin could only look at you as if nothing else was worth looking at, because really, to him, it wasn’t. 

…well, maybe the sight of you walking down the aisle would get the cake. he might have to find out soon. 

Michael Kaiser

once you started dating bastard munchen’s star, michael kaiser, it was natural to have his world collide with yours. everything from football to blue hair dye to weird sleeping habits became a part of you as well, and you nourished every expanse of your world his presence alone was able to give.

your favorite part, besides learning all of him — his little habits, quirks and love languages that seemed to be crafted solely for you — was definitely immersing yourself in his culture. germany always seemed distant and quite detached from your life, and you loved to learn new things from different perspectives. 

food, traditions, language… michael loved teaching you things, giddy and secretly grateful for your excitement. it was his sparkly eyes that prompted you to learn a few things by yourself to surprise him and make him happy. 

the tiktok trend was just a nice coincidence. 

you phone was hidden on the kitchen balcony, camera recording and waiting for the moment your boyfriend would arrive in your shared apartment. luckily, kaiser was very punctual, and you didn’t have to wait much longer.

“liebling, i’m home!” you heard him scream from the front door, and you giggled to yourself, pretending to be busy chopping vegetables for dinner. 

you waited for his footsteps to near where you were, and, as soon as you felt he entered the camera frame, you answered:

“welcome home, ehemann!”

you didn’t have to turn around to see the way kaiser completely froze; arms stopping just before reaching your waist as if your figure was an illusion created by his tired mind. you fought hard to suppress your grin.

“what… did you say…?” his voice was low and uncertain, but there was no annoyance in it; just pure confusion. 

turning your head around to finally look at him, you were pleased to find your mikka with rosy cheeks and a bashful expression, so extremely unusual for a guy like him you couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter on your chest. 

you gave him your best innocent look. “huh? isn’t that how you say boyfriend?”

“i-it’s husband, liebe. you called me husband,” his tone was still incredulous, and this time, you couldn’t keep your smile off your face. 

“oh, did i?”

your countenance seemed to finally snap him out of his trance, and michael’s eyebrows shot up, scoffing slightly — albeit still endearingly. his arms circled your waist and he pressed a kiss on the side of your neck. 

“how mean of you, baby. playing with my heart like that.” he trailed more kisses on your neck and jaw, making you squirm. “you tryin’ to kill me or something?”

you giggled again, both from the ticklish kisses he was giving you and the huge amount of love you had harbored just for him. “of course not, baby. i need you alive to make you my husband,” you jested.

“oh, yeah? you wanna make me your husband?”

“yes.” you shifted, giving him a sweet kiss on the cheek. kaiser hugged you a little tighter, feeling something fuzzy inside his chest. “is that a problem?”

“never,” he answered immediately. because it was true.

boyfriend, fiancé, partner, husband… michael didn’t mind what title would be bestowed to him — as long as he could keep being yours.

Mikage Reo

being the heir of one of the biggest corporations of the country and a professional football player made your boyfriend’s schedule pretty busy. therefore, thursdays like these, where you and him could have a nice walk around the park under the warm sunlight, hand in hand, were extremely rare — hence why they were so appreciated.

reo knew how much his frenetic agenda was a hard toll on your relationship, affecting both of you with distance, longing and short periods of time together. and, well, everyone knew how much of a goner he was for you, so it wasn’t surprising to see him give in whatever spare time he had in his hands — even going as far as making such time exist if there wasn’t any — to be with you for as long as he possibly could.

how could he deny your pretty little eyes pleading to have a stroll in the park with him ‘just for a few minutes?’

god, you were so selfless. he wanted to give you all of his minutes, hours, days, weeks, months and years. and for all that’s worth, reo would never deny you of such a thing — he’d rather shoot himself than make you think you weren’t loved with every fiber of his being.

the weather was nice; a gentle breeze kissing both of your faces and making everything more pleasant. you were both chatting and appreciating the calm environment when you spotted an old lady a few feet ahead, selling different colored roses for the passersby. a smile was etched onto your lips, and you impulsively let go of reo’s hand to run towards her. 

“why hello, dear. would you like to buy a rose?”

your boyfriend watched you beam to the lady and slowly approached you, though still keeping his distance and trying hard not to intervene and buy all the roses for you. 

“yes, please! a red one would be perfect.”

“oh, who will you give it to?” asked the woman, already taking one flower from the bunch to hand it to you. 

your smile became slightly more bashful, “it’s for my husband!”

and fuck, if reo wasn’t already completely in love with you and thoroughly believed you were his soulmate until then, he certainly would after that very moment. he could feel his cheeks burning and his tongue rolling inside his mouth with how speechless he became. his heart soared with your words, excitement coursing through his veins with a love so overwhelming he nearly fell on his knees right there. 

heavens, he loved you so fucking much. and you made him realize it was about time he proved it to you (once again).

his hands easily found his phone in his pocket, and a quick call to the jewelry store was made while you busied yourself with paying for the flower. reo couldn’t stop smiling like a lovesick fool, but he didn’t mind.

“hey, mr. fuji, it’s mikage! you know, i think it’s time for that visit i mentioned a while ago…”

he might not fall to his knees right there, but he would drop at one knee very soon.