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[fillinforlater]

Blonde: Chapter III

Female Reader x Kim Gaeul

Length: 2500 words

Tags: angst/fluff, another bad day, losing your dignity, illness, someone who cares, there is a fever dream, Gaeul's relationship, struggling with your identity, we got a twist at the end

Inspiration: "Why Am I Like This?" by Orla Gartland

(A/N: Finally, another chapter to this slowly developing plot. I jope you enjoy it. @firagaarmor for obvious reasons)

"Didn't you say 108,000?"

"No, sir, it's 180,500 won."

"Oh, I see."

The old, fragile fingers of this confused, bald man creep back into his purse, trying to find another bill in what is probably a maze of money and plastic cards for him. You wouldn’t mind it one bit, you get paid either way and on usual nights, traffic is so little that barely anyone else gets inconvenienced. However, tonight is rather unusual. Apparently everyone forgot something and is now in a haste to buy said something. There is a long line of impatient stressed moms, annoyed teenagers and everything in between or beyond showing or voicing their disapproval.

It’s not you, you’re not the cause for their stress and discomfort, yet the customer’s toxicity still flies to you like you’re some kind of magnet. It all comes back to stab you, with passive-aggressive remarks or the glances up and down your small frame. Doesn’t really help that you only had cold ramen noodles, sweets and a little bit of bread in the past five days and that the ice cold showers make your nose itch with an impending cold. God, you must look pathetically miserable, even for your standards.

After the man finally gets his cash together, the checkouts are fast, heartless, and your heart aches for her to be at the end of the line. Gaeul—with her bright hair and even brighter smile to greet you when she is out buying drinks again—she could really save this evening. You yearn for her encouragement and presence more than for the next hot meal. Maybe even more than for the next two hot meals. 

But there is no blonde angel to save you tonight. With the last customer buying their groceries, the lights die one by one, leaving you in a mostly empty store, alone with thousands and thousands of tasty and not-so-tasty products you’d love to put into a pan and fry. The thuds of your sneakers on the floor almost drown out the grumble in your stomach or the sniffling of your nose as you walk into yet another cold night with nothing to look forward to. 

I fucking hate this shit. 

#

You want to vomit, throw yourself off your bed, tear every single strand of your dark hair out as you dial your mother's number again. You hope it’s over quickly, but one can never know with her, especially if she still stubbornly refuses to help you. Take deep breaths, try to keep your head straight though thinking has become more and more exhaustive with every calorie you’re missing. 

“What is it?” your mother groans, though you find her tone to be a lot more amused than last time. Someone is cheering and laughing in the background, drowning out even the loud TV. 

“The bills, mom. I still have no electricity, no hot water, no heater.”

“Oh right.”

A response colder than your room. You try to straighten your back to speak to her loud and clear, with at least some authority, but you feel yourself crumble when the clanking of bottles loudly booms through the speaker.

“Did… did your boss finally pay you?” you carefully ask, earning an immediate response.

“Yes, he did.”

“Then why didn’t you pay the bills?”

Silence, except for the crime drama running in the back, finding all the suspects and then the killer, as they always do. This case right here is totally clear, no one needs to investigate for more than five minutes to find out that she is at fault, yet it feels like you're on trial, awaiting your parole, which for some reason is still in the balance.

“You know, sweetheart,” your mother cheekily responds, her saliva loudly flopping around in her mouth, mixed with the disgusting flavor of cigarettes and beer. “I really worked hard for that money. It’s my money. In the end I can decide what happens with it.”

Oh God, don’t do that, please for the love of—and don’t call me sweetheart.

“You can’t be serious,” you barely chirp out, your heart throbbing, crumbling like your entire body as you can see your entire foundation, the fragile remains of your fake stability finally falter. You can never cover all of your expenses with this one job and you can’t quit school now, not after getting so close to finally finishing it. You need her money and she seems to finally use it against you.

“It’s just the truth,” she responds nonchalantly, her voice a lot lighter and higher in pitch than usual. You hear someone cackle in the background.

“Sweetheart.

Don’t call me that.

“How about you—

Don’t do this.

“—start begging for my money. C’mon! Get on your knees and beg for it! I’m tired of funding your lazy, incompetent lifestyle. You should be so grateful for my throwing money at you all these years. 

“I didn’t hear you! Get your lazy ass out of your bed now, and on your damn knees.

“Beg for it.”

Laughter from behind her. It's not the TV.

#

A hot shower, warm noodles, a cozy bed—they never felt so wrong, so disgusting. Even as your life objectively improves, it feels horrible, like you had to sell yourself and your soul for it to happen.

Your knees are still drawn to the floor. You might sit in a chair, listen to teachers all day or sit at the checkout, pulling items over the scanner, your knees still feel like they should get on the floor and beg.

Please let me pass.

Please give me more money.

Please leave me alone.

Please ignore my embarrassing existence.

"Hey."

"Uhhh, good evening, ma'a—Gaeul?"

Gaeul's dainty fingers catch your shoulders as you slump forward, against the checkout counter and almost fold over. Your body, devoid of energy, loses all tension.

“Hey, hey,” Gaeul calls out to you, and like the caring mother you never had, the warm palm of her hand cups your forehead. “Oh lord, you’re so hot! You’re definitely sick, what are you doing here?”

“I-I have to work,” you respond, a wave of something hot and heavy pressing down on your brain. This lava burns itself into you and makes every thought process excruciatingly hard. You haven’t even noticed it until now. “I’m not sick, every-thing is fine.”

Your smile is weak, dozy and fake, it cannot fool Gaeul a bit. Her beautiful face falls into deep wrinkles of worry as you can barely lift yourself out of her supporting arms. There is an awkward pause between the two of you, only interrupted by another customer clearing their throat. You try to get back to scanning, but one of Gaeul’s cans slips through your fingers a couple of times.

“I don’t think you should do this,” Gaeul says quietly, softly. “You don’t need to prove your toughness, it’s okay to be sick for a few days. I think your boss will understand.”

“Really, Gaeul, I’m okay.” The final can, straight into the blonde’s bag. Through your blurry eyes you can barely make out the color of her jacket, or sweater, or whatever it is—either way, it definitely suits her. “Thanks for worrying though.”

#

Why did I push her away like this? Why didn’t I listen to her? Why am I always like this?

Everything is hot and everything is cold. You need another jacket or the cold will get worse, but it simultaneously feels like you could die from overheating if you don’t start throwing away layer after layer of clothes. The way your body feels is close to how the inner mechanisms in your brain work in this fever haze. There is nothing, no thought, no conclusion, nothing that matters—yet everything is suddenly relevant.

Objects and details you’ve never actively released before come into focus of your decreasing sight, that one tile in the corner, just as dirty and unspecial as the rest, the second package of gum, purple and pink, the spooky hum when the door opens that never appears when it closes. So you stumble out of the store, tripping over your feet until the fever finally strikes you down.

The concrete, its gray color, is darker the colder it gets. It’s also harder, torturous to lay upon, scorching hot skin on freezing tarmac. Suddenly, brand new sneakers, black and white, small feet, about as small as your own, though they could be—

“Oh my God!”

—a bit bigger, judging by the length of the stockings covered legs that—

“Here, I’ll help you”

—disappear in a plaid skirt, above a combo of thick winter jacket and—

“I knew this was bad. Taxi!”

—a girl, whose hair is both silver and golden, a blonde close to whiteness, nonetheless it looks like a crown adorning and framing her perfectly formed features.

Gaeul.

#

You’re lost in a dream. A school full of students, their ages varying drastically and you do not recognize a single face. The teachers seem a lot more familiar, though they float through the room carelessly, gravity not applying to them. In fact, gravity only applies to you, as the rest of the students fly around the room with their chairs and desks.

A frame of an angel, her hands brushing your cheek, scorching hot, so she puts a wet towel on your face. That’s so nice of her, you must be sick. Sick or not, you cannot miss the day you go to the zoo with the floating class.

The zoo is filled with people, nothing but people. People that look at odd people. Those that have to stand on one leg, those that can’t talk properly, those who like weird things. You can hear your whole class laugh hysterically at all of them, so weird, so wrong, nothing better than to laugh at sickos and be glad that you’re not one of them.

“Uhm, hi.” A voice in the far background, damp, behind a shut door. “Care to explain why you have another girl in your bed?”

You feel like you have to explain yourself, but words are nothing more than concepts in your head, also the zoo is calling, you have to watch the lively corpses float through the water tanks. Luckily, someone speaks for you. The angel.

“She’s a friend and she is sick. That’s all there is to it, Yujin.”

"Oh, really?" The other voice is skeptical, eyebrows raised and she looks for a clever response. “I guess she got sick while laying in your bed? Gaeul, don’t lie to me, okay? Just be straightforward with me.”

“I—” the angel stutters and falls silent. You however found a new enclosure in this zoo which stretches in all directions. This one is rather empty and the enclosure is also no enclosure, just a mirror with a writing above it: ‘Sicko girls that like other girls’.

The reflection is you, of course, in all your—

“What am I going to do with you, hm?” The other voice, now a tall woman of incredible beauty, twirls a couple of golden strands of the angel and tugs them behind her ear with a weak—dishonest, you feel—smile. “The long hair suited you better. I really liked that.”

“I know, Yujin.”

The reflection is you, in all your fault and imperfection, far from perfection and any heavenly being. You are no angel, just a sicko girl that likes girls—and the whole class is laughing.

#

You open your eyes, but the aching, hot pain in your temple and a heavy, wet towel on top of it make actually seeing, realizing anything a pain in the ass. Just the outline of a small face looking down on you, very familiar, very pretty—oh, what a relief to have Gaeul be the first thing you see.

“Wh-where am I?” you ask past dry lips.

“Oh, you’re awake.” Gaeul turns around and quickly reaches for a bottle of water. “Here, drink this, your body needs a lot of water now. You’re in my—my friend's apartment.”

“Damn, then it must have been real fucking bad—”

You cover your mouth, realizing your loud curse in a foreign room, foreign bed, where are your manners, they might have foreign customs. Gaeul’s eyes fall shut when she begins to lightly chuckle. 

“Don’t worry, she’s not here right now,” Gaeul says. “You’re all good. B-but you can’t stay here forever. Just rest up and—you have somewhere to stay, right?”

You carefully remove the towel from your face, catching all the drops running down your forehead as you think about home, your home, finally warm because you threw away your dignity. You’d love to not go there, tear up the contract for rent and run away to something new—into independence.

“Yeah, yup, I—I have a place, don’t worry. Sorry for all the trouble, fuck, I don’t even remember what—I did it again.”

Now Gaeul is holding her stomach, laughing, hitting the blanket that covers your legs and you join her. Though you might sit upright, you feel like falling over, the dizziness, Gaeul’s laugh, they make you feel like you’re still in that dream with the angel. The angel, so ethereal, but made fragile by this voice. A woman.

Suddenly, yours and Gaeul’s face are almost touching, her arms are on your shoulders, yours on her side, her petite frame is in your palm. The laughs have faded, smiles remain but you feel your heart racing. The smile fades and you’re tense. Gaeul is right there and she is so, so pretty.

“You sure you’re alright?” Gaeul asks as she sees your blush. You blush even more and avert your eyes.

“Y-yeah, thank you. You helped a lot. But—

“—are you okay too, Gaeul?”

That’s a smile full of uncertainty, a hint of anger, a glow of hurt. Gaeul’s eyes sparkle and you’d love to blow some life into them. Even better, all the love you have for her, you want to pour it into her and give her power. But no, you have no idea nor any plan to do such a thing. So it’s Gaeul who helps you out of the bed and hands you one of her sweatshirts that isn’t drenched in sweat.

“You are the one with a fever, I’m as healthy as ever!” Gaeul is so bright and her smile shines like a star. In a different universe, she is already a celebrity with a perfect red carpet smile. Fake.

“I didn’t mean that.” In a surge of confidence and worry, you reach for Gaeul’s hand and everything's in slow motion. “I-I’m scared that you’re not happy, that something isn’t right, that—Gaeul, I heard you talk to your friend and she seemed—”

“Look, I—she isn’t my friend.”

Gaeul looks at you. 

“She is my girlfriend.”

Gaeul still looks at you. Now it’s your turn to fake a smile and get it over with.

...

(A/N2: Thanks for reading! Stay tuned for more chapters, though it will take time until the next release)

[sleepingdeath-hellaverse]

female reader marrying the demon she summoned after death and being shy about her attraction to him hcs

requested by : anonymous [15/03/24]

original request : ‘Could you do some headcanons of Paimon (Stolas's father) with a reader who had a deal with him a long time ago that implied that when he died she would be his wife and when he died she would have the characteristics of goetia thanks to their deal? She feels shy about it, but he thinks Paimon is pretty cute and wants to let her know but doesn't know how to express himself about it’

note : apologies if paimon’s characterisation is at all off here, this is the first time i’ve written for him ^^

pairing : paimon x wife!sinner!reader insert

content : paimon being a dick, reader coming to terms with her attraction to paimon and trying to figure out how to tell him she wants more from their marriage, reader being a generally awkward/shy person, some mildly suggestive parts but nothing explicit

warnings : references to demon summonings and forming deals with demons

masterlists : sfw nsfw

your relationship with paimon had been purely transactional from the moment you summoned him up until you took your last breath in the mortal realm — really you’d thought yourself lucky that all he’d asked of you was your eventual hand in marriage for the answers you craved, considering all of the horror stories you’d heard about demons and their dealings in the past — and you hadn’t really thought much about your side of the bargain… not until you died and came face to face with your patron for the first time in decades

he looked different now — though you supposed you couldn’t be one to judge as you certainly didn’t look very human anymore — with his imposing avian silhouette being much more corporeal and comprehendable than the mass of screaming, shifting shadows that had answered your call back on earth

of course you hadn’t been given much time to appreciate your new husband’s appearance in any real depth before he’d escorted you back to his palace home, droning on about something or another as you followed mutely a few steps behind him — struggling to match his long strides as you juggled the realisation of your death with taking in the environment of pentagram city and trying to glimpse more of your new form in the murky puddles (that didn’t look anything like water) and shattered shop windows that you passed on your journey

(a journey that didn’t last very long as paimon abruptly stopped in the middle of the road, scoffed out a derogatory comment about being surrounded by ‘poors’ and then opened a portal back to the palace gardens — had you been in a more collected state of mind you might have questioned why he didn’t just do that from the outset, but you were far too turned-around at the time and instead just let him shove you through)

after that came the obligatory tour of the estate, courtesy of your husband, ending with you being escorted to your new bedroom before paimon walked off to attend to some pressing matter that he refused to elaborate on — which, thankfully, gave you plenty of time to clean up and get to know the few members of staff that were directly ordered to attend to you

… it was quite the shock, to say the very least, to see a bird like creature staring back at you instead of the reflection you’d grown used to in life. thankfully the imps serving you were plenty understanding and patient as they helped you through that awkward adjustment period

from then on you find yourselves settling into a serviceable enough routine

a routine that meant that outside of the standard ‘couple’ activities (eating together, sleeping together, satisfying your husband’s needs, and attending/hosting formal events) you’d rarely ever get the chance to see or speak to your husband — a dynamic that was very common amongst the goetic families, and one that you’d been made aware of before you’d accepted his proposal, but as more time passed you started to resent the distance placed between you and long for something more

something more intimate

something more loving

something more human

something more than what you’d agreed to all those years ago because, damn it all, you’d somehow actually managed to fall for paimon — despite his callousness towards his family, despite his detached style of ‘loving’ you, despite his open disregard towards the lower classes in hell, you’d fallen fast and you’d fallen hard

and you had no fucking idea how you were going to deal with that fact

it wasn’t as if you had many chances to talk to your husband privately after all — the only times when you were alone weren’t exactly the place to discuss such a heavy and emotional topic, and beyond that you weren’t even sure that paimon was capable of understanding such a human emotion

(from his own recollections of how he’d treated his previous wives, and his interactions with his numerous sons that you’d seen firsthand, it didn’t seem very likely)

sure you could frame your affection for him as lust, and you certainly couldn’t deny that lust played some part in your physical attraction to him, but that also felt disingenuous… and the mere thought of approaching paimon and plainly stating that you thought he was ‘hot’, ‘sexy’, or some other similarly flirty adjective, was enough to leave you too flustered to speak so that was solidly out of the question

for a good few days you deliberated over asking some of the servants for advice, assuming that over their many years of service under your husband that they’d at least have a greater understanding of how he’d react to such a confession from you, but in the end you decided against it — heaven (hell?) forbid one of the imps accidentally revealed your feelings to paimon before you were ready, you dread to think of how he’d respond to hearing something like that from a servant instead of from you

in the end, after all of your planning and fretting, it’s on one of your rare dates that the truth finally comes to light — smiling fondly over a cup of tea in the palace gardens as he recalls a story he finds especially amusing about one of the cults that summoned him a few short centuries ago, half listening to the words he’s saying and half letting your mind wander as you appreciate his appearance more blatantly than you realise, when he suddenly breaks away from his tale just long enough to let you know just how poorly you’ve been hiding your feelings before casually going back to talking about the dumbest questions humans have asked him in the past

leaving you, naturally, far too flustered and dumbfounded to speak — and left with a realisation that should have come to you far sooner given your past dealings with the demon in front of you

paimon’s power comes from his knowledge on, well, just about everything… of fucking course he’d know you thought he looked hot

maybe he even knew before you did and that’s why he asked for your hand in return for answering your questions back when you summoned him

well… at least that’s one less thing to worry about going forward in your marriage

and based on the look he’s giving you — something dark, and hungry, and perhaps a little bit mocking — you’ll be getting much more of your darling husband’s attention from now on

lucky you

[ryuzakemo128]

Ghosts of the Past

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Marianna (Female Reader)

Prompt: "By all means disappear into the darkness, not that I'm scared or anything." and “These visions are a curse my friend, I know that now."

Prompt List: Link

Requested?: No

Trigger Warning(s):

Mild Violence

Possible mention of sh

Mention of smut

Drug Usage

Marianna's P.O.V

"My nightmares are making more sense than I would have wanted them to right now. I don't understand what happened or why they changed from what they used to be. I can no longer see into the future. I said into the tape recorder, "but I am constantly reminded of everything I have done in the past."

"What on earth are you doing in the bathroom?" Steve asked her knocking on the bathroom door.

"Nothing, don't worry about it." I replied walking out of the bathroom.

"Then why do you have a tape recorder with you in the bathroom?" Steve asked.

"Mrs. Kelley said recording what the nightmares are like, or even just what they were, would help." I said to him, debating whether to continue recording or redo it a third time.

"I thought you didn't need to see her anymore." Steve replied slightly confused.

"I thought that too. But that didn't last as long as I wanted it to." I replied.

"I'm guessing Eddie's still asleep?" Steve says changing the subject.

"Yeah. He's in his room at the moment." I replied wondering where the conversation would head next.

"I'll speak to you later." Steve says before heading back to bed.

"Good choice, see you later." I replied closing the bathroom door and returning to my dream diary.

I sighed thinking about it, what happened with Carver and Morgan. How easy life would have been if I wasn't there in the first place. As if I could have known how things would have played out the way that they did. Eddie, Steve or any of the others have never known how my own recovery is coming along. I didn't want to burden them with my own problems. My own problems being the intrusive thoughts that I have been having for a few months after Billy died.

I felt like a very useful hammer and that's about it. I started smoking pot at the beginning of the year even before Billy's death. I would state it was only to get the intrusive thoughts outside of my head. But he didn't need to know that part of it and part of me liked the fact that he never asked about it.

"If you don't talk about your own demons, no one will be able to help you." Darcy would state time and time again. But he's no longer around to lecture her about healthy habits and Kenny wasn't there to keep her in check.

"You're falling apart at the seams and no one is able to see it because you're not letting them." A voice said to her, sounding so much like Darcy it gave her goosebumps.

I was pulled away from my thoughts, as Steve was saying "How long are you going to be in there? I got to use the bathroom Marina."

"I'll be out in a few minutes." I yelled out in response, shoving my tape recorder and other stuff to take out of the bathroom. My head is spinning and my stomach feels like someone just punched it really hard.

Eddie would have known about it if I said anything to him, but I never did and he never really seemed to notice anything different. At least until he asked about it three weeks after her ex died. When he stayed the night.

Eddie would have known about it if I said anything to him, but I never did and he never really seemed to notice anything different. At least until he asked about it three weeks after her ex died. When he stayed the night.

"I'm surprised you'd ask about it." I said to him.

"You've been acting like a nervous wreck for the past few months, even when he was still alive." Eddie pointed out which made it sting more.

"I see. I didn't notice." I muttered petting Prince as he sat on my chest. Remaining adamant to swatting away Eddie's hand each time he tried to touch him.

"You haven't been that way since I met you a few years ago." Eddie stated.

"I can't see the future anymore, I haven't been able to for almost two years now. So I'm quite literally flying blind." I explained to him.

"So you're smoking pot because you can't see the future?" Eddie asked.

"No, because no my nightmares make sense now that I have to live with what I've done." I explained.

"You make it sound like you've killed someone before." Eddie says to her.

"Which I have done several times." I say to him.

"And you're only just telling me about it?" Eddie says moving further away from me.

"I'm literally high as a kite right now. You really think I'm trying to kill you?" I asked him confused.

"How am I supposed to know that?" Eddie asked in response to my question.

"By not assuming your friend is out to kill you that's how." I replied going to feed my cats.

We didn't talk about it again for a while as he stayed in his room and Steve used to watch from the hallway confused about what the conversation was about.

I walked to bed after Steve got into the bathroom and I didn't understand why things were showing up that I don't remember. But I have a feeling it's only going to get more complicated. I decided to just do some shopping for a few hours. While the others hung out at home.

I left a note behind saying where I would be and when I would be back. "Hey guys, I'm out shopping and I'll be back in a few hours. If my parents show up don't answer the door and most importantly there's lunch in the fridge."

On the way to the store all I could think about are the friends I feel like I have disappointed, “These visions are a curse my friend, I know that now." I thought to myself as I went to get the cart that someone else decided to leave in the middle of the parking lot.

I bought Eddie and Steve presents. Sometimes I feel like I'm just running from my own obligations and am burying what I should have told them a while ago. Just putting it off for another day each and every time.

After the shopping trip I went back home to think about whether or not to tell them everything I should have told them already. But part of me is incredibly afraid of how they might react to it and another part of me just wants to die in my own bedroom too.

I started hallucinating that Eddie was walking into the forest near the backyard. I thought to myself, "By all means disappear into the darkness, not that I'm scared or anything." As I went to follow what it looked to be like him until Eddie stopped me from going further.

"Hey, Marina" Eddie said to her snapping his fingers in front of her face.

"I thought you were over there." I said to him visibly uncomfortable.

"I was in there the whole time." Eddie replied just as confused.

"Weird." I thought to myself. "I need to to talk to you about something important." I say to him.

"You're not breaking up with me are you?" Eddie responded.

"What? No. It's about something else." I replied as I explained about what my nightmares were about and how much detail each one were.

"Well, that explains, a lot." Eddie stated.

"Pretty weird, I know." I murmured staring at the grass in front of me.

"The dreams are weird, but the sheer amount of strength you have is way scarier." Steve interjected.

"It's tame compared to Tanya's. Although she's slightly unhinged from what I remember." I commented.

It felt better now that I had off my chest and I felt a weight just lifted up from my shoulders afterwards. Maybe things are finally getting better now.

[obsesssedblerd]

You look up from your book to see your husband standing over the bassinet with his arms crossed, his brow raising as he looks down inside of it with a tiny scowl. He stays like that for about a minute. You sit up in your shared bed, then call out to him. “Ryo.” 

“Hm.” He doesn’t look up. 

“May I ask what you are doing?” 

“The little brat is staring,” Sukuna says matter-of-factly. “I am simply staring at her in return.” 

Inside of the bassinet, your baby daughter coos. Her scarlet eyes—exactly like her father’s—glitter with interest. You hear her giggle, and you scoff lightly and return your gaze to your book. “She thinks you’re playing a game.” 

“I am doing no such thing.” 

You flip a page. “Put a hand over your face for a few seconds.” He doesn’t respond, but you know he listens. “M’kay, now lift.” There’s silence for a few seconds, then your daughter bursts into a fit of giggles. 

Sukuna rolls his eyes. “I do not understand what is so entertaining about that.” When you look up again, you see that he’s covering his face again, then revealing himself to get the same reaction from the baby.

“It’s called peek-a-boo. It’s a game most babies love to play.” 

The little princess babbles as she lifts her arms up, and Sukuna tilts his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

You snicker. “One: You’ll figure out what she’s saying the more you talk with her. Two: She wants you to pick her up.” 

He sighs dramatically, then reaches into the bassinet to pick up the small girl. Though she has her father’s eyes, she has your hair, the shape of your nose, and your ears. She also has your fearlessness, because she smiles directly in the face of the king of curses. Now at his eye level, she reaches her arms towards him excitedly. “What is it now, you brat? I’m already carrying you.” 

He looks over at you in question, and your smile grows. “She wants to touch your face,” you say. 

“Why?” 

“Because she’s a baby, and she’s curious.” 

Sukuna pulls her closer, and once in range, his daughter lays her tiny hands against his marked face. She giggles more, and you can see his eyes soften. “Hmph. You have your mother’s smile.” 

— — — —

The next morning, you walk into the kitchen where you hear Sukuna speaking with someone. When he turns to the side, you see your daughter nestled in the crook of one of his muscular arms, staring up at him as he concluded whatever story he was telling her. 

“...At the end of the battle, only I remained. Victory was mine.” 

The baby babbles excitedly, and Sukuna scoffs. “Ha, you will do no such thing. How do you expect to join me in battle when you aren’t even a year old, brat?” 

Her face scrunches in what looks like annoyance, and she repeats to him what he taught her the night before. “Hmph.” 

You burst into laughter, and Sukuna raises a brow at the little girl in his arms. “Great. Your mother’s smile, and her attitude.”

[furuu]

◝　‿ 　　　You had been hired like the others—one of many women brought into Sukuna’s domain with the sole purpose of sitting on his lap while he reigned from his throne. It was a simple job: to run your hands softly over his skin, murmur praise, and worship the King of Curses with sweet words and gentle touches, making him feel like the god he believed himself to be.

It was supposed to be just that. You were there to flatter him, nothing more. Your touch was practiced, your words rehearsed. But today, as you sat between his large thighs, your hands tracing the sharp angles of his jaw, something slipped out—something that wasn’t meant to.

“I love you,” you whispered.

Your breath caught as you realized what you had said, horror and embarrassment flooding your senses. It was a mistake, an accident. You weren’t supposed to say that. Your heart raced, and you braced yourself for his anger, for the cruel laughter that was sure to follow.

But instead, Sukuna let out a deep, rumbling purr, his entire body vibrating with satisfaction. His lower eyes narrowed as a dangerous smile spread across his lips, and he leaned forward, his large hand gripping your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“Say it again,” he ordered, his voice a low, velvety command that left no room for hesitation.

You froze, caught between your fear and the intensity of his demand. “I… I love you, Sukuna,” you managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

His growl deepened, reverberating through the air, and his smile widened. The approval in his gaze was unmistakable, and to your surprise, his body seemed to relax, his muscles loosening as if your words had a calming effect on him. The air around you felt heavier, charged with something unspoken, and his eyes gleamed with dark satisfaction.

“Again,” he murmured, the command sharper this time, more insistent.

Your heart pounded in your chest, but you complied, your voice growing steadier. “I love you.”

Another rumble of pleasure escaped Sukuna, his growls and purrs filling the space around you, echoing through his vast domain. It was as if he couldn’t get enough of hearing it, as if those three words were more valuable to him than any amount of praise he’d received before. And that’s when you realized: none of the others had ever touched him like this. None of them had been allowed to.

You were the only one.

Out of all the women brought to sit on his lap, to worship him with words and praise, you were the only one who had the privilege of touching him—of making him purr, of bringing him this kind of pleasure. Something about you stirred something deep inside him, something he hadn’t expected.

He had never been loved before.

And now, with those words slipping past your lips, something within him awoke—a hunger, a need to hear it again and again. It was more than just your touch or your gentle words. It was the way you said it, the way your voice caressed those three simple words, filling a void inside him that no one else had ever reached.

“Again.” He growled, pulling you closer, his large hands tightening their grip as if you might disappear if he let go. His purrs grew louder, reverberating through his chest and into you, his pleasure palpable with every repetition.

You obeyed, whispering it once more. And with each “I love you,” he held you tighter, his growls of satisfaction echoing through the hall. He wasn’t going to let you go. Not now. Not ever.

You had become the only one he needed—the only one who could fill the emptiness he didn’t even know he had.　　𓈒 ꒱ა

[lapetitepatisserie]

cod × fem!reader ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᡣ𐭩

The familiar sound of keys in the door alerted you to your husband’s return.

“My love?” he called, looking for you, boots making heavy footsteps as he made his way towards you and your child. His eyes soften once they land on you and your baby girl.

“How’s my princess?” he drawls, voice deep with exhaustion from work.

You look down at the child sitting in your lap, occupied with trying to fit a chubby foot into her mouth. A steady finger reaches underneath your chin, lifting it to meet his warm, intense gaze.

“I’m talking about this one.”

[oceantornadoo]

simon riley with a very american girlfriend who gets very flustered at every british endearment he throws her way.

“yeah, love?” youre a puddle in his lap, even when you’re just telling him about your day. you tuck your chin and bite your lip to hide the embarrassment but he’s always too cognizant of you, tilting your chin up so he can see the look on your face. “like tha’?”

“here ya go, sweetheart.” all he’s really doing is feeding you a bit of pasta but you moan anyways, the sound going straight to his cock. your tongue peaks out to lick the sauce on your bottom lip, giving him doe eyes. “i like when you call me that.”

“alright, cheeky” he likes calling out your attitude, especially when you’re on your period. knows calling you cheeky will get you to stop talking back as your cheeks warm with a combination of embarrassment and arousal. you’re tucking your face in his neck to hide your feelings as he chuckles, pulling you in further, never letting you go.

shoutout to @peachetteprice who’s been teaching me british (LOL)😌

[jammyjen26]

Simon won’t ever admit it but he loves your cuddles, he loves shoving his face in between your tits and just falling asleep.

You usually initiate the cuddle session so today you don’t. You want to see if he’ll ask you or not.

He comes homes and does his normal routine, greet you, shower, eat, and cuddle you after you practically have to beg him to comply.

You’re lying on the bed, on your phone not paying him any mind. He climbs under the covers and just stares at you.

“What?” You ask, turning your head to look at him.

“Nothing.” He mumbles and gets on his phone.

You shrug your shoulders and get back on your phone, internally smirking. He continues staring at you for at least ten minutes before he just pulls you close and hugs you.

“What’s wrong?” You ask.

“Cuddle me.” He says without even looking at you, burying his face in your tits.

“You like my cuddles?” You grin and play with his hair.

“…Yeah..” He reluctantly admits.

You guys cuddle and eventually fall asleep in each other’s arms.

[dragonsholygrail]

Little Hatchlings

Dragon x fem!human - breeding, pregnancy discussions, cream pie, cockwarming, multiple orgasms.

Dragon husband who has no idea how humans have children like you assumed he did. You thought he had given how often he talked about spilling himself inside of you, how he needed to keep his cock inside you so as to not waste a drop.

But reality comes crashing down as your husband plows into your sloppy and spent cunt while lost in the throes of passion.

Dragon husband angles your hips with his clawed hands, making him reach that much deeper in your walls. You cry out, arms wrapping around his neck to bring him down to your height.

Your body starts to shake as you feel his scales brush against you with every thrust, coming closer to your peak. Breath hot as the fire that leaves his lips rumbles dangerously in your ear.

“Yes, that’s it. Take it. Take my cum and lay my eggs, sweet mate,” he hisses with a ferocious need. “Now be a good girl and paint my cock with your essence.”

As if your body was waiting for his order, you immediately start coming, your pleasure only heightening as you feel his release shoot deep inside your pussy.

It’s only when your Dragon husband wraps his arms around you tightly, molding your form to his, with his deep purrs echoing in your shared den do you realize what he had said.

"Wait— what?" You ask, mind whirling as you come down from your orgasmic high. A rumble moves through your husband’s chest as he nuzzles into your neck.

"Our hatchlings, my mate. I imagine you'll lay them soon after my seed takes root," he explains lowly, hand slowly caressing the curve of your stomach.

"Humans don't lay eggs, darling," you break the news to him before you automatically feel him tense. He looks down at you, worry etched into every line of his beautiful scales.

"Well then-"

"We get pregnant. Our bodies grow as our child does inside of us," you add, resting your hand on top of his on your tummy. Arousal pooling at the base of his member at the idea of him breeding you.

"So your body will begin to grow in size once I have successfully injected you with my seed?" Dragon husband asks slowly, scrambling to understand this change. Yet you can feel his cock hardening inside of you, the ridges on his length already brushing along your walls in a way that has you gasping.

"Yes," you breathe out, so heavily turned on by your husband. Your hands reach up to grasp onto his shoulders, knowing that images are pumping into his head as fast as he's about to be pumping inside your still sopping cunt.

"I shall keep a wary eye out. But until then..." His eyes flicker across your exposed body, his now rock hard cock moving as his hips regain their steady thrusts.

Showing he is more than ready to fuck into you, spilling load after load of hot semen deep inside your core. Not willing to let you rest until he sees your belly swell with proof of your unborn child.

[davinawritings]

Werewolf roommate with super sensitive hearing.

He doesn’t mean to be a perv but he can’t keep himself from stroking his cock when he hears you masturbating late at night. Your moans and soft whines just get him so hard.

He always tries to match his pace to yours, especially loving when you take your time and edge yourself. His knot throbbing with need but being denied.

He always swears it’s the last time he will do this but once he hears you again he’s straight back to jerking himself off.

He manages to keep himself under control until one night he hears you moan out his name. A fierce possessiveness takes over and within seconds he is swinging your door open.

You don’t even have time to get over your shock before his long and think tongue is buried in your pussy.

He spends hours fucking you in every possible way, laying claim to your body.

As you both drift off to sleep he decide that while he loves you moans and soft whines, nothing compares to the sound of you screaming out his name in ecstasy.

[zvdvdlvr]

imagine ur bd being out of the picture and your little girl running up to si ☹️🤍

   “Daddy!”

   Simon looked down, eyes wide at the little girl wrapped around his right leg. Johnny eyed him carefully. He was thankful none of the other café patrons paid any mind. “I’m not your daddy, love,” Simon said. He tugged his leg away gently but the strength of a child is hard to match.

     “Annalise, get off that man,” a woman cried. In the blink of an eye, she knelt near Simon’s leg and tugged the child away.

     “Dada!” She shrieked. Annalise’s chubby hands reached out for Simon’s. “Is dada, mama!”

     You shook your head. “I- I’m so sorry, sir. Her dad was in the military. Anna thinks everyone in fatigues is dada… Do you want me to get either of you a coffee to pay you back? I’m truly sorry.”

     Soap discreetly elbowed Simon harshly in the side. “‘M quite alrigh’ lass. Simon, here, would take a coffee if your serious. If you’ll excuse me, I got to go. Bye, little lassie,” the Scot rushed, face lightinf up at the way Annalise giggled as his parting.

     Annalise was still cooing and reaching for Simon. You just shifted her on your hip and rubbed her back. “Simon, yeah?”

     “That’s me, ma’am,” Simon nodded, feeling suddenly extremely exposed without the balaclava he had decided not to wear for one single occasion. “You don’t have to pay me back-“

     “Nonsense. I would feel like a bad person if I just let my kid latch herself onto your left and call you dad and then just swoop her up and leave,” you said, reaching for your wallet before walking over to the ordering counter. “What can I get you?”

     Simon ordered a small of his usual, watching you pull the money from your wallet without glancing at how much it costed. He observed you in that split second- a beautiful baby girl on your hip who thought any man in camo was her dad. So he had been in the service… Simon watched you smile kindly at the teen behind the counter who fumbled for your change. You murmured a quiet, “It’s quite alright, take your time.” A well-mannered, well put-together individual who was also very attractive. Simon knew what Johnny was doing when he left and Simon would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought you were a catch.

     “I seriously appreciate the coffee, ma’am, but it was unnecessary,” Simon said as you tucked your change back and waited for the drink. “As long as the kid’s alrigh’, I don’t need anything in return.”

     You smiled. You smiled at Simon and he swore his cold heart jumped in his chest. Clearly your bright smile disarmed Annalise as much as Simon because she let out a bubbly laugh and put her hands on your cheek. “What if I said I wanted to?” You asked coyly.

     Simon watched Annalise play with a baby hair near your face. “Then I’d say it’d be a cruel thing to tell a gorgeous woman no.”

[cumikering]

Ghost x plus-sized reader

2.1k | fluff, drink spiking Did you just call Simon weak? The rest of the 141 didn’t like that

“Can I carry you?”

At the pub table, you almost spat the last gulp of your drink at the question. You turned to the source of the gruff voice, meeting the man’s chest before craning your neck up to his eyes. He had to be over 6 ft tall.

You set your glass down. “I’m sorry?”

“My mates are betting I can’t get anyone to piggyback.”

“And you picked me?”

He nodded at your top. “Skulls are sort of my lucky charm.”

You scoffed, looking past him at the other ladies in the room. “Are you serious? There are plenty who weigh far less.”

His brow rose. “Are you calling me weak?”

You took in the width of his shoulders, how his loose black shirt couldn’t hide the thickness of his biceps – the left one inked. He was handsome, rugged with the scar across his cheek, his short blond hair and light scruff, but his stare and bluntness made him beyond intimidating.

How could you get out of this situation with the least fuss?

“N- no.”

His eyes softened a touch. “May I? Please?”

Playing along and getting it over with should be the safest bet. “Okay... But-”

He turned his back and squatted slightly. “Hop on.”

“Wait- are you sure you can?”

“Hop on,” he repeated.

At that point, it was not your fault anymore if he ended up embarrassing himself. So you gripped his hard shoulders and did as told before he swiftly hooked his large hands under your jean-clad thighs. He didn’t grunt or strain when he bounced you to position and straightened up. As if you weighed nothing, which was a feeling you never thought you’d experience.

You had to give it to him - his strength was impressive. You chuckled to yourself, seeing the top of everyone’s head amused you. Across the pub, the table of three men grinned at the massive stranger. The one with the mohawk was very much entertained as he gave him thumbs up.

It was then that Simon groaned, because his team was embarrassing the hell out of him. That, and he finally got to feel how soft and warm you were pressed up against him. A little creepy, but a man was allowed to fantasise about a birdie he’d been eyeing, right?

“That’s all, yeah? You just have to carry-”

He stepped towards the bar, making you latch onto him.

“Oh! Where are you going?

“I’m getting you a drink.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Please, I insist.” When he flagged the barman down, you held on tighter. “It’s the least I can offer for getting you involved.”

You laughed, your breath warm against his ear. “Are you going to set me down or am I having my drink on your back?”

“Don’t give me ideas.” He chuckled as he lowered you to your feet.

He leaned against the bar, arm folded as he stared at you on the stool, downing your shot before looking at yourself on your selfie cam.

“Would you… like something as well?” you asked after you tucked your phone back in your pocket.

He shook his head.

“Okay. Well, thanks for he drink. You could get back to your mates if you want.”

“I’m Simon,” he mustered instead.

“Hi.” You shifted in your seat. “Is something the matter?”

“No.” He frowned. “Why are you asking?”

“It’s just you’ve been staring, and there’s nothing on my face. I checked.”

Bloody hell, could he be any more awkward? He just wanted to ask why you were alone without being weird about it.

He looked away. “I didn’t mean to.” You make me stupid. It didn’t help that your previous drink had tinted your lips, looking even more kissable up close.

“I think your mates want you back though.” You chuckled, nodding at his table.

When he turned to them, they immediately busied themselves with their drinks, averting their gazes.

“They’re a nosy bunch, they are.” He inched closer to you. “The one in the beanie, that’s our captain. The other two are my sergeants.”

“You’re the lieutenant?”

He hummed. “The one with the mohawk is the prankster. He’s a bad influence. He’ll talk you into doing anything.”

“He put you up to this then?”

He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips.

As if on cue, Soap looked up with an uncontained grin, only to look back down when he realised eyes were on him.

”Seems like he can’t wait to say hi.” He swiftly picked you up off your seat, bridal-style. “Is this enough to show you weigh nothin’?” he asked, fighting the urge to grab a handful of your soft thigh and waist.

“Oh- oh dear!” You laughed, arm wrapping around his neck, pretty fingers grasping his bicep. “Wait, wait, put me down!”

When you were back on your feet, you pulled your phone out of your pocket. “Sorry, I’m actually meeting someone. He’s almost here.”

So that was why you were alone. You were waiting for someone. Disappointment anchored at the bottom of his chest.

“Right. Okay.”

You smiled. “Thanks for the drink, Simon. I’ll see you around, yeah?”

He grunted and you headed to the end of the bar. He stood umoving for another second before retreating to his table like a kicked puppy.

“L.T., wha’ happened? She was havin’ so much fun!” Soap shot as soon as Simon took his seat next to him.

“She’s meetin’ someone,” he said quietly.

“Aww… Sorry, Ghost,” Gaz said. “But hey, she let you carry her!”

With your back to him, you looked at your phone whenever a man walked in.

Huh, first date?

You flagged down some other blond man who walked over to you with a smile. The barman took your order before you chatted with him with a polite smile, keeping a respectable distance between the two of you.

Simon was in no place to watch and invade your privacy – he really should look away. But what was it that simmered in him when the bloke scooted closer, his arm along the back of your chair?

He laughed, pointing at something on the TV. You looked up, and your hand deftly covered your drink, like an instinct.

He smirked. Smart girl.

“I know she’s with someone, but I can tell she likes you more,” Price said, and Simon finally tore his gaze away from you.

“Ye should fight ‘im, L.T. He dinnae stand a fuckin’ chance.”

“You can knock him out with a slap,” Gaz quipped.

He chuckled, blatantly looking over Price to you again. “Rather just look.” While it wasn’t for him, at least he could watch your pretty smile from here and quench his thirst a bit.

With the bloke’s drink in hand, he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, his other hand inching to your covered drink now. He tipped his glass over you, causing you to jump and grab serviettes to dab yourself with. Just as fast, his fisted hand opened over your drink before helping you.

“No fucking way,” Simon said out loud.

“What?” Gaz followed his line of sight.

He marched over, yanking the man around by the shoulder. “What the bloody hell did you just do?”

He stumbled off his seat from the force, making the lieutenant tower over him even more. “What? Who- Do you know him?” He turned to you.

His finger jabbed the man’s chest. “What. The. Fuck. Did you put in her drink?”

“Nothing! What are you accusing me of?”

Simon didn’t miss the crack in the man’s voice. He raised your drink to the man’s face, a tiny white tablet swaying at the bottom of the glass. “Empty your pockets.”

“Simon, what’s…”

“I’m not repeating myself.”

The man fished out his phone, wallet and keys with trembling hands.

“That’s not all.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s nothing else, mate!” he said exasperatedly.

Simon’s patience ran dry. He patted his front pocket, hand bumping over something. “You need to see this,” he said quietly to you.

You hesitantly stuck your hand in the man’s left pocket, coming up with a bag of white tablets.

The man smacked the bag out of your hand. “You planted that, you slag!”

“If you didn’t do anything, drink it.” He spat, holding out your drink to him, now cloudy and fizzing.

He stared at the glass. “Fuck you,” he said, pushing it onto Simon’s chest before dashing out of the pub.

“Did he…”

“The fuck was that, Simon?” Price questioned from behind him.

“Fucking piece of shit spiked her drink.”

Price turned to you, a hand on your shoulder. “You got his name and number, love?”

“Yes.” You blinked. ”Yes, his number and dating profile.”

“I’m sending the coppas his way.” He picked up the evidence on the ground with a serviette. “Simon, get the details and make sure she gets home safe,” he said before approaching the barman.

You dried his ruined shirt with a wad of serviette. “I can’t even begin to thank you for your help, Simon. Really, thank you so much. I wouldn’t have-”

“You did good.” He squeezed your hand over his chest. “You covered your glass when you weren’t looking, but spilling his drink on you was something else.”

When you looked up at him with wide eyes, he dropped your hand.

“Would you like me to send you home?”

“I don’t want to trouble you. I don’t even live nearby.”

“Would you let me, if I want to?”

There was a pause before you smiled. “I think I’d like that, actually.”

When he grabbed his jacket from the table, Soap patted him on the back.

“Good catch, L.T. What a fuckin’ disgrace, the lad.”

“Have fun, Ghost,” Gaz teased.

Outside the pub where the streets were quieter, you forwarded the profile and chat screenshots of the man from your group chat to Simon.

“Can’t be too cautious. I’m not surprised if that’s not even his name honestly.” You shrugged, stuffing your phone back in your pocket. “I knew it was dodgy he insisted on meeting here when I said I’d rather somewhere in the middle, in broad daylight. That, and he was half an hour late too!”

It was disheartening to know this was the reality of dating, that all sorts of people lurked online, sometimes not with the best intentions. He’d show you his ID just to prove he wasn’t a creep, just someone smitten with a staring problem if any.

“If it was me, I’d have taken you anywhere you wanted.”

You chuckled.

“On my back too, if you prefer. I think you quite enjoyed that.”

“I did, actually,” you teased. “Is it a bad time to tell you I’m starving?”

“Yeah? That’s good news, because I’m always hungry. A kebab sounds about right at this hour.”

“Extra chips?”

“Extra chips,” he affirmed.

“You know what, I think this is my sign.” You pulled out your phone again, deleting an app. “Don’t think online dating was ever my thing.”

Is a stranger at a pub who shamelessly stares at you more your thing?

“Going out with someone who offers to carry me around is more like it.”

He bit back a smile. “So? Another ride on my back?”

You chuckled. “Next time,” you said, taking his arm instead.

As much as he enjoyed your touch, he couldn’t do with your fingers over his jacket. He needed to feel you. When he held your hand in his, you smiled up at him.

Simon had to thank his team for painstakingly convincing the stubborn lieutenant to approach the lady he’d been staring at. You didn’t have to know there was no bet, that asking to carry you was his own idea, an outrageous excuse to talk to you. But he wouldn’t complain if he ended up helping you, taking you for a little supper and even got to send you home.

“When’s next time?” he asked at your door, squeezing your hand.

You really shouldn’t have said it, because he was going to make sure there would be one. It had become a goal to show you how you deserved to be treated on a date.

“Is tomorrow too soon?”

“Right now isn’t even too soon.”

You laughed, pulling him down by the shoulder to meet your lips.

For @glitterypirateduck ‘s Ghost Challenge :D check out her page for fic recs!

Neighbour Ghost AU if he still had his family

Ghost's online fantasies came true Masterlist

[mrsbarnesblog]

just us

masterlist

summary: a situation between pogues and kooks at the beach made Rafe rethink his priorities

word count: 1.8k.

warnings: season 4 spoilers, established relationship, mention of the dead turtle, that hoe Ruthie, protective Rafe

a/n: i'm obsessed with season 4, y'all. absolutely in love with everything that's going on and especially with Rafe being in a better place with a girl that he actually likes 🥹 this scene at the beach with turtles just made me sob, so I really need someone to drag that bitch by her hair. sorry not sorry.

Your heart was beating with adrenaline from the scene that just happened at the beach, with Topper’s girlfriend almost running over the pogues and being the usual insane bitch that she was. Rafe stood beside you, silent but shaking his buzzed head in disapproval.

Kie was standing on her knees on the sand, in shock, with juice still dripping down her face and hair. She brushed off the help of her friends, instead standing and picking something up from the ground, without hesitation, going towards the group of people around you. They seemed absolutely delighted by the whole situation, laughing, fist bumping each other, and making you want to punch every single one of them in the face. 

You didn’t even want to be here in the first place, not with a bunch of people with whom you shared mutual hatred towards each other. Rafe was your only connection with them, and it seemed like even for him it was a bit too much. A fun day at a beach with a little surfing competition, where even Topper and JJ seemed to have some fun together, took the wrong turn way too quickly.

“Look what you did! Is this okay?” Kie stopped in front of Ruthie, reaching out her hand to show something that you weren’t able to see, but by the look on her face it was obviously serious to her. “There was a turtle hatch, you idiots! You drove right over it!” Your stomach twisted at the realization, and you took a step closer to see it yourself. 

“Oh my God.” You whispered, catching a glimpse of a tiny dead turtle with a crushed shell laying in the palm of her hand. So little and harmless that the picture of it brought tears to your eyes. 

“Don’t look, baby.” Rafe’s deep voice mumbled near your ear, with a warm hand sprawled across your back to try to distract you, but you shook your head, unable to take your eyes off it. 

“All right, but it was only one.” Ruthie said with her usual attitude, nonchalantly pointing to the rest of the turtles that, luckily, were perfectly fine. Your mouth opened in disbelief, and you looked at Rafe to see him uncomfortably rubbing the back of his head. 

“I’m so sorry, Kie…” You whispered to her, stepping further away from the kooks, eyes drifting again to the dead animal in her hand. No matter how hard you tried to fit in with Rafe and his friends, you could never be one of them if it meant to be a bunch of pompous and cruel rich kids. You thought that, maybe it was time for you to finally admit that. 

“It’s not your fault, Y/N.” She briefly looked at you, because despite not being friends, there never were any arguments between you and the rest of the pogues, always keeping cool and friendly with each other. “There’s something wrong with you, people.” Kiara looked back at the kooks with disgust written all over her face. 

“I’m leaving, Rafe.” Barely holding back your tears, you looked back at your boyfriend, before picking up your beach bag from the sand and turning around. “I’m sorry again for them, Kie.”

“No, wait, Y/N.” He pushed through the crowd, wide-eyed, quickly approaching you and grasping your wrist. “This is not—“

“I don’t want to be here. I didn’t sign up to hang out with your friends when I started dating you, okay?” You groaned in frustration, attempting to move, but Rafe stopped you. “I don’t even know why we’re here, why you are here, when you clearly don’t enjoy it anymore.” 

“Listen, this is not so easy, okay?” He rolled his eyes, but you knew it was not fully directed at you; Rafe was already struggling with trusting those around him, and the fact that you slowly but steadily made him reconsider his current surroundings did not help. 

“You are not like them, they are not your friends, don’t you understand it?” The pure desperation was speaking in you, searching for the answers in his eyes. You overheard some people laughing at you, as they were too confident that Rafe would never listen to someone like you, someone from the cut, not even realizing the war that was currently going on in his head. 

He was silent, thinking, making his already overwhelmed mind go hundred miles per hour to figure something out, because you were right. The more time had passed, the more the two of you were together, the less Rafe found himself enjoying the presence of his old friends, the less he wanted to do that childish bullshit. 

“This dumb fucking bitch almost ran over people and killed an innocent animal because her big ego got hurt, do you understand?! So I’m leaving. Alone or with you.” You almost whispered the last part to him, too scared that he'd not choose you. At the end of the day, you were a pogue, and no matter how much you tried, you would never be good enough for Rafe. 

“What did you just call me?” Ruthie arched a brow, now shooting daggers at you. 

“I called you a dumb fucking bitch, didn’t you hear me?” You spat, finally having a good enough reason to tell the truth right in her face. “Or are you too stupid to get that through your thick scull?” 

“That’s rich, coming for a pogue. It’s just a cycle of life. And if you, losers, are so offended by that, it’s not my problem.” 

“A cycle of life? Getting flattened by a truck is not a cycle of life.” Kiara pushed Ruthie with her hand, and it nearly turned into a fight, with JJ standing by his girlfriend's side. You turned away from them, too frustrated and drained to bother listening to the rest of the conversation, your gaze shifting to Rafe, who still held your hand.

“I want to leave. Stay here if you want to, I don’t care. I’m done with them, Rafe.” Your teary eyes met his blue ones, and he shook his head, pulling you closer with your forearms. The mere thought of you leaving him, angry and upset, triggered a whirlwind of panic within him.

“Hey, no, I’m not staying, okay?” Rafe's hands, now much gentler and delicate, touched your cheeks, wiping away a few tears that you could not keep back. Rafe had never been too comfortable with the display of emotions, and he was pretty sure that it was the first time he had actually seen you cry. And he knew how much you had always carried for animals, how you petted every stray cat or a dog on the street, and how you hated any form of violence against them. 

The pulsating and aching feeling in his chest at the sight of your tears made him want to drop everything, or rather, eliminate everyone who had upset you, and just hold you in his arms. 

“Aw, look at you.” You heard that annoying voice behind you back again, pulling you out of the bubble in which you fell, and turning around, you saw that Kie and JJ were no longer there. Your eyes instantly rolled back as Ruthie looked at you with her usual fake sympathy, crossing her arms over her chest. “Go back to your side of the island, you’re not one of us. Don’t even know why Rafe bothers to bring you here when you’re just another dirty toy to—“

Rafe left your side before she could finish her sentence, looming over her with the most furious expression you had ever seen on his face. Everyone and everything seemed to fall silent for a moment, and you held your breath, unsure what he would do. “Wanna say some bullshit about her? Try to do it right in my face and see what happens.”

“You’re not seriously protecting the pogue. She’s not on our side.” Her smile faded, her eyes now nervously looking between Rafe and Topper, who was standing behind her back. 

“C’mon, Rafe…” He started, but quickly shut his mouth as soon as Rafe turned his head towards him with a silent threat. You felt your heartbeat quickening as the atmosphere started to get even more intense. Everyone around you also started arguing and saying God knows what, but Rafe was awfully calm, and it frightened you even more. 

You moved closer to them as you made your way through the warm sand, until you were able to place a comforting hand on your boyfriend's back. He was so tense under your touch that it amazed you how the hell he was not shaking because of it. The only times you had ever seen him behaving that way was when people whispered something about his father behind his back.

“It’s okay, Ray.” You whispered, kissing his shoulder and sliding your hand down his back to take a hold of his bicep. 

“You’re lucky that I don’t hit women. But if I hear a single word about my girlfriend again, you will regret it, I promise you." Your stomach flattered from the way he protected you, from the way his friends opened their mouths in shock at his words. Even Topper and Kelce were too stunned to speak, sending each other weird glances. “Control, your crazy bitch, Top.” 

As if nothing had happened, Rafe stepped back, throwing a protective hand over your shoulders and guiding you away from the group. He was silent for a whole walk towards his truck, only stopping near the passenger door and turning you to face him. 

His worried blue eyes were almost shining under the bright and hot sun and you saw words forming in his head and sitting at the tip of his tongue. You waited another minute, while Rafe was focused on your necklace, thinking. His hands found a place on your waist, rubbing circles into your skin, until he finally took a deep breath and looked up. 

“You’re right.” He said simply. “I’m not this person anymore. That shit with racing with pogues was fun and all, but I didn’t like what happened today.” You half smiled, nodding and encouraging him to talk. “If—if I want to be like my dad, I need to have my priorities straight. No more of this bullshit, no more fake ass people, yeah? You’re the only one who's been here for me for a long fucking time. You’re the only one who I can trust, baby.”

His hand cupped your cheek, eyes focused solemnly on you, before he lowered himself closer to you to place a kiss on your lips. 

“This is the right decision. You’ve overgrown them, you’re a better man now. And i’ll be here for you whenever you need me, I promise. I guess it’s just us now." Your body sagged against his, too wrapped in the comfort of his presence to even care about anything else. Your lips brushed against his, making Rafe groan.

“Just us, baby.”

[obsesssedblerd]

“Wahhh!” 

“Nooooo!” 

“Bwahhhhhh!” 

“I don’t care, she was mine first!!!” 

“WAHHH!” 

“AHHHHHHH-” 

“Satoru Gojo,” you snap and glare at your husband, who’s burying his face in the pillow to muffle his laughter. Your seven month-old son also begins laughing. It’s so cute that you almost forget that the two were screaming at each other just seconds ago. 

Satoru lifts his head up to grin handsomely at you, feigning innocence. “Yes, wifey?” 

“Why on earth are you screaming with your son at eight o’clock in the morning?” You ask. 

“Because,” he whines, pointing an accusing finger at your baby boy, who had begun cooing adorably for your attention. “He won’t let me kiss you! Watch what happens.” To demonstrate, Satoru gently leans in, only to be stopped when the baby uses his tiny hands to push against his face with a loud whine. You stifle a laugh when he pouts, squinting his eyes at your son. “Listen, just because you’re laying here, doesn’t mean that you can just keep me from giving my wife a little smooch.” 

Your son doesn’t budge. “Bwah!” 

“Okay, and?!” Satoru exclaims with a tilt of his head.

You roll your eyes. “I cannot believe you’re actually arguing with him.” 

“Kid’s got a mouth on him.” 

“How do you even know what he said– You know what? Don’t answer that. Anyway, he’s your kid. I’d be surprised if he wasn’t sassy.” 

Satoru gasps dramatically. “I am not sassy.” Next to him, your son matches his pout with a hmph, and since he was born with Satoru’s hair and eye color, he basically looked like a tiny version of him. “See?” He asks, gesturing to his mini. “Even he agrees with me!” 

“Sure he does,” you say, then turn your attention back to your phone, scrolling through a grocery delivery app so you can start ordering things for the week 

“And back to you,” you hear Satoru continue with your son, “I just want to kiss her cheek, and you’re just– hey, no sticking out your tongue at me.” The baby babbles, and Satoru scoffs. “No, I’m not cryin’. What’re you talking about?” 

You laugh quietly. If this was how it was now, you couldn’t wait to see what it’s going to be like in the future.

[furuu]

∘ʚ ♡ You rested your head against Sukuna’s broad chest, your fingers tracing idle patterns across his skin. He wasn’t exactly the cuddly type, but over time, you had learned that in rare moments like this, he didn’t mind your touch. Today, though, your curiosity got the better of you as your hand drifted to the right side of his face.

The instant your fingers brushed over the jagged contours, Sukuna stiffened beneath you, his muscles tensing. He let out a low, rumbling growl, and you hesitated, thinking you’d overstepped. But the large eyes on that side of his face blinked up at you, wide and almost… expectant.

"Those eyes are so big," you murmured softly, tracing the edges of the eyelids with your thumb. Sukuna grumbled under his breath, his usual irritation creeping into his voice. "Tch. They're not meant for your amusement."

But the eyes weren’t listening. They blinked again, slow and patient, their gaze fixed on your hand as if silently pleading for more. You bit back a smile, gently rubbing along the hard skin. The eyes fluttered shut for a moment, the lids twitching in contentment, and you couldn’t help but let out a small giggle.

Despite his protests, his body relaxed beneath your touch. His jaw unclenched, his shoulders eased, and the low grumbling sound deep in his chest took on a different tone—one that almost felt like… contentment.

The eyes remained focused on you, tracking every gentle movement of your hand, as if yearning for more of your affection. Sukuna, for all his bravado, let you continue, his protests fading into quiet grumbles. You could feel his large form sinking into the moment, as though he didn’t want to admit how much your touch soothed him.

You shifted closer, pressing your cheek against his shoulder, fingers continuing their soft exploration of the extra eyes. “It’s okay,” you whispered, a smile tugging at your lips. “I’ll be gentle.”

Sukuna huffed in response, but there was no real bite to his words. "Don’t make this a habit."

The eyes, however, seemed to disagree, blinking slowly and lazily under your care, as if savoring the warmth of your touch. Despite himself, Sukuna leaned into you just a little more, letting the moment linger in silence, the growl in his chest fading into a quiet, reluctant acceptance.

You felt his arm wrap around you, pulling you even closer, his usual roughness softened by the quiet, vulnerable moment. “Tch, you’re lucky I don’t mind you as much,” he muttered, though the way his eyes closed and his breathing slowed betrayed how much he was actually enjoying this.

And maybe, just maybe, Sukuna didn’t mind this softness as much as he pretended not.・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

[chaosandmarigolds]

Simon Riley! who isn't traditional in the gross way but in the he wants to protect you and make sure you don't feel like you have to provide for yourself, he wants to be a safety net, something to rely on

Simon Riley! Who made it a point to buy your dream house as soon as you were married,

Simon Riley! Who didn't expect houses to require so...much...work

"Baby! The water won't turn off?"

"The fuck you mean it won't turn off just-" Simon grumbled as he dropped the moving box and walked into the kitchen, grabbing the handle of the faucet and trying to pull it, only for it to come flying off. Leaving him dumbfounded and you a giggling disaster.

Simon Riley! Who likes handy man tasks as much as the next guy but the people at the store are beginning to know his name

Simon Riley! Who didn't have a dad to teach him some stuff like plumbing and whatnot so he calls Price

"Oi, Cap-"

"She came to her senses and ran away, yeah?"

"No...I need you to tell me ho' to turn off th' water."

Simon Riley! Who does know how much you love watching him do yard work but doesn't dwell because these godddamn weeds-

Simon Riley! Who loves nothing more than watching you paint the walls of the house, finds it like to be a scene of a movie and it would be a lie if the reality was much better than the cinema

Simon Riley! Who hates facebook because you would randomly send him across the city because you found an old China cabinet you thought would be perfect

Simon Riley! Who doesn't care how his buddies tease him about becoming a domestic civilian so soon, because he would happily fix a thousand houses if it meant a thousand more years with you

(Comments and feedback make my day! annnd yeah that's it <3 )