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joekeeryswife · 4 months

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arranged marriage 1 - f.c

hey honeys! i hope you enjoyed my last imagine. writing for Felix legit has me in a chokehold. dickhead!felix (im sorry!) mean reader at the start then she turns sweet, i also suck at endings so please ignore how bad it is and the spelling mistakes lol.

anyways, here’s another angst to fluff imagine, Felix is 22 and reader is 20! enjoy reading 🩰

taglist🩰 (add yourselves here): @hummusxx @lalademie @kikiandbella @anamiad00msday @saltburntt @livvy256 @gee72sstuff please make sure your @ are on otherwise i cannot tag you!!

“mum seriously? Felix? as in the only person i absolutely hate with a passion Felix?” your mum rolled her eyes at your outburst. it wasn’t a shock to her that you were mad, you and Felix had grown up together but for some reason the two of you never got along. your parents had grown up together and had obviously been planning this for some time.

“i’m sorry sweetheart but yes, it will be good for the two of you to finally get along, he is a really sweet boy you know” you huffed “we could get along without getting married? i mean, i’m only 20 years old. i have my whole life ahead of me to get married” you ran a hand through your hair.

“why do i not get a say in this? shouldn’t i be able to say yes or no to this?” you were frustrated, you hated Felix. and no marriage certificate was ever going to change that. “stop being silly y/n. Elspeth is so excited to have you as a daughter in law, she loves you” your mum tried to end it there but you were not giving up.

“dad please tell her she is being irrational, there is no way you have agreed to this as well” you looked over at your dad “i’m sorry honey but i have agreed and so has the Catton family. you have no idea how good this would be for us, you will be bringing two very strong bloodlines together” you wanted to scream.

marrying Felix was the worst possible thing to probably ever happen in your life. Felix was an asshole to you, rude, snobby and ignorant. he thought he was this incredible man but in reality he was just a bastard, and you would be marrying him? you wanted the ground to open up and swallow you.

“i’m sure the two of you will get along just fine, you’re being a little dramatic honey. you’re going to have a beautiful dress, a beautiful ceremony, it’ll be amazing. and Felix is a very a handsome boy and you are a gorgeous girl, your kids will be absolutely perfect” you choked on your saliva

“kids? mum are you joking? i’m begging you, please don’t force me to marry him, my life will be a misery” your mum shook her head. “enough. this is final. you will marry Felix, end of story” your dad said making you and your mum look at him. you did not ever think that you would be in an arranged marriage with Felix Catton.

“now, get ready darling, we are going to saltburn to celebrate” this was going to be hell.

-♡-

“Felix darling, will you come here for a moment please?” Felix heard his mother call out as he walked past the living room. he saw his mum and dad sat on the sofa next to each other with huge smiles on their faces. he walked into the living room and sat on the sofa opposite the two of them “should i be worried?” he said jokingly, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

“no of course not” his mum laughed. “we have some news for you which you may not like the sound of at first, but, i think the idea will grow on you” his dad said, excitement filling his voice.

“we have been speaking to y/n’s parents” Felix rolled his eyes at the mention of your name. “and we have all collectively decided that it’s time for the two of you to finally know that you will be getting married” Elspeth squealed in excitement.

his jaw dropped “isn’t that amazing? oh god it’s so nice for the secret to finally be out” his father seemed just as ecstatic as his mother.

“you are joking right?” his mothers smile faltered “no, it’s not, you two are getting married. oh i am so thrilled Felix, we have been planning this for ages and now that you both know i think it’s really set it in stone.” he shook his head at her.

“no, absolutely not. i’m sorry but there is no way in hell that i am marrying y/n” he shook his head and laughed. “this is bullshit, we fucking hate each other, why the fuck would you two even think that is a good idea?” he felt sick. “Felix, don’t use that type of language please” Elspeth said.

“mum, she’s a bitch. you really think i want to marry her?” James shook his head “she is a lovely girl. it’ll be good for us Felix. and it will be nice for you two to get along” Felix scoffed at his father. “you guys can plan this as much as you want, but i am not marrying that girl. i am 22 years old and i am old enough to make my own decisions, no is no”

“you will be, sorry Felix but it’s already started to be planned. the two of you will be getting married so you best start to try and get along. you guys will be moving into a lovely house after your honeymoon, you two will be fine” Elspeth said, her voice stern.

“now, since you know the news, go get ready. we are having a huge party to celebrate your engagement” he scoffed and walked away from his parents. this was going to be a long night.

-♡-

your mother had already picked out your engagement party dress and to be honest she did a good job of picking it. the dress wasn’t too over the top which you were grateful for. this whole idea of getting married to someone you hated was a lot of getting used too. you didn’t even have a ring yet which you knew would make it feel more real.

when you envisioned yourself your life you didn’t expect to get married for a few more years, and you would be getting married to someone you actually loved. you never thought your parents would force you to get married to anyone, let alone Felix. “are you excited for the party?” your mum said pulling you out of your thoughts.

you gave her a tight lipped smile and nodded “look, i know it’s not what you wanted but we wouldn’t do it if we didn’t think it would work out. you and Felix will love each other in no time. i think when you two spend time together you will start to really like him” she grabbed ahold of your hand.

you were honestly willing to try the marriage thing for the sake of your parents, Felix was nice to everyone but you and you wanted to find out why. “oh, we invited practically everyone we know so be prepared to show fake smiles” she added as you stopped outside of Saltburn. knowing that you had to be lovey dovey with Felix made you anxious, it’s not like it was going to be easy when the two of you despised each other.

“right, let’s get this over with” you said as you exited the car, your mum scoffed “don’t speak like that y/n, you will enjoy yourself” she said as she linked her arm with your fathers. you followed behind the two of them and looked around the front garden of Saltburn, it had been covered in all different types of gold decorations.

Duncan the butler was waiting for you all at the front of the house, even though it was a party his face was still nonchalant. “theyre all waiting for you in the back garden, guests have already began to arrive.” your mother and father thanked him and made their way inside “not even going to break a smile for me, this is a party after all” you joked “enjoy the party y/n” he said making you laugh and brush past him. there was no breaking Duncan.

you made your way to the back garden which was just like the front, covered in gold decorations with guests slowly filling every section dressed in their party attire. you spotted Elspeth, James and Felix with your parents and you knew you would have to go over there. you put on your best brave faces d made your way over there.

Felix looked miserable as he stood next to his mother his eyes fixated on the grass. he hated the thought of you, he hated the thought of the two of you getting married even more. “aww there is the beautiful bride to be” he heard his mother say which made him look up from the ground.

now, even though you and Felix hated each other, there was no way he’d lie and say you weren’t beautiful because you were. you were one of the most beautiful people he had ever met. but that didn’t change the fact that he thought you were the most annoying person he’d ever met.

“gosh you look gorgeous” Elspeth said as you finally stood next to your parents. she pulled you into a hug and kissed your cheek. “now that you are here we can talk to you both. we know that the two of you don’t get along but we are very happy that you are going along with the arrangement. we promise you both that it will be all worth it in the end” James spoke quietly but loud enough for you all to hear. they obviously didn’t want people knowing that it was an arranged marriage.

“we will see about that dad, this is the worst day of my life” Felix said shaking his head. hearing him say that hurt you a little bit and you didn’t know why. you didn’t show the hurt on your face and you were quick with a comeback “likewise, i’d rather drown in bleach then have to marry you but here we are”

“why don’t the two of you go talk to one another about it? it might be good for you two to have an actual conversation instead of arguing all the time. go to the library, there isn’t anybody in there” Elspeth said looking between the two of you. “oh and if you see any guests and they congratulate you, please act like the two of you love each other” she added as the two of you started, asking your way to the library.

the walk to the library was silent until one of the Henry’s and his wife stopped the two of you “there is the happy couple. we have been waiting for the two of you to get together since you were young. you look gorgeous together” Henry’s wife said. your sour expression was quickly forgotten and you tried your best to show you were happy by putting the fake smile on your face.

you felt Felix’s arm go around your waist. “thank you, it didn’t take too much convincing” you said as convincing as possible. “let me see your ring dear, it must be beautiful” your eyes widened, you did not think about that at all. “it’s at the jewellers, i accidentally got the wrong size so we need to get her a temporary ring until her real one comes back” Felix was quick with his answer.

“how did you propose Felix? was it romantic?” you both nodded “very, we were on a couples holiday. we went for dinner and then we went for a walk along the beach and i just got down on one knee when i felt like the time was right” how was he so quick with these answers?

“wow, that is truly romantic. anyways, we don’t want to keep you guys for any longer. congratulations you two” with that the two of them walked toward the garden. “how the fuck did you come up with that so quickly?” you said as you both also continued walking. “dunno, i just made it up” his voice was flat and his arm dropped from your waist.

the two of you reached the library and Felix closed the door behind him. you sat on the sofa and he sat next to you awkwardly “so, how are you feeling about this situation then?” you spoke trying to stop the awkwardness. “how do you think? i’m being forced to marry a girl who i despise” he scratched the back of his neck.

“well, i’m not ecstatic about it either but, we have to do it. we just need to try and be nice to one another and i think it could work out. it’s gonna be awkward but-” he cut you off quickly “do you really think i’m gonna try work this out? with you? you must be out of your mind” he started, you didn’t like where this was going at all.

“you are the most annoying person i’ve ever met, you do realise this marriage is just to make our parents look good? there is no way i will try work this out with you. i will never like you, i will never love you. you��re just going to be a person i’m being forced to live with” you looked at him “you are unlovable. no one will ever fall in love with you, you are that frustrating. your parents probably agreed to this marriage because they know no one else will fall in love with you” his tone was harsh. hearing him say that broke you.

you could feel your eyes filling with tears which you tried to conceal as best you could but it was no use. even though you hated him his words cut deep. “that’s a really fucked up thing to say” you shook your head and got up to walk away, slamming the library door as you walked to the nearest bathroom. you could feel your chin quiver as you sniffled, trying your best to keep your tears at bay.

Felix knew that was a low blow, and he regretted his choice of words as soon as they left his mouth. he was left in the huge library, the deafening silence making him feel even worse for how he spoke to you. the two of you always threw insults at each other but nothing like that, ever.

he could tell that you were trying to make the best out of a shitty situation and he had to ruin it by overstepping the mark. he knew that he was going to have to apologise to you because he did, that time, take it too far. he spotted Theo, another butler stood at the end of the hallway. “did you see where she went?” he asked him as he shoved one of his hands in his pocket.

“she walked into the bathroom down that way sir” Theo pointed in the direction you had gone, he nodded “thanks” he started making his way to the bathroom and once he was outside the door he could hear your quiet sobs. he didn’t know what to do, he didn’t think the person he was about to comfort would be you let alone for something he said.

he knocked on the door gently, he heard your sobs stop. “who is it?” you called out, trying your best to hide the waver in your voice. “can i come in?” he questioned. he was stood outside the door for a couple of minutes before he heard you unlock the door. he walked into the bathroom and saw you sat on the floor next to the door.

he cautiously sat down next to you, not knowing how you were going to react. “look, i’m sorry for what i said. that took it too far and i am truly sorry. i’m just stressed about the situation and i took it out on you and i shouldn’t have done that” you just nodded and looked down at your lap.

he sighed, he knew that both of you would have to figure out a plan. the two of you were getting married which seemed scary to both of you and if you went through with it with out a plan it would just crumble. he spoke “so” you looked up from your lap to look at him “we need a plan” you nodded again. “how do you wanna do this?”

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suzukiblu · 8 months

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Excerpt from the one where Kon meets pink kryptonite and decides to fuck Tim and his boyfriend about it.

(The read-more is definitely necessary, length-wise. I . . . got very into this idea and frankly this is barely a third of it so far, lol.)

"So, uh . . ." Kon says, skeptically eyeing the softly glowing rock in his hand. Metallo, like, threw it at his head. He has no idea why. "Is this supposed to do something or . . . ?"

"It's pink," Kara says leerily, staying very firmly back. Like, unexpectedly far back, in fact.

"Yeah, I'm not actually blind, thanks," Kon says, turning the rock over and squinting at it. It continues not to do anything, aside from the glowing thing.

"No, it's pink kryptonite," she stresses.

". . . it literally doesn't hurt at all, though?" Kon says. Though he probably should've figured it was some kind of kryptonite, given that Metallo had it and had apparently thought he could hurt him with it.

Seriously, though, his gloves are fingerless and he's got it right in his hand. It should be hurting him, if it's actually kryptonite.

"Pink kryptonite doesn't work like that," Kara says, edging a little farther back. They're floating a few hundred feet in the air right now, but from the way she's acting Kon's vaguely concerned that he might be about to explode or something. "It just affects our sexual . . . urges."

"Oh," Kon says, frowning in confusion. Weird, but . . . "Is that all?"

"I don't mean like it makes you horny, Kon, I mean like it makes you homosexual," Kara hisses, looking mortified. "And don't ask how I know, alright?!"

Kon . . . blinks.

"What the literal fuck?" he asks incredulously, just staring at her. "How does that even–are you telling me Metallo went and chucked gay kryptonite at me in the middle of a fight?"

"Yes!" Kara says, still clearly mortified. "So just–just stay over there with it until somebody shows up with a lead box, okay?! The effects will stop after we get it contained."

"Alright, alright. So then do you think the dude was flirting with me or is he just a fucking idiot?" Kon jokes, balancing the kryptonite on his index finger with his TTK. "Although I really don't think he'd be my type either way. Like, nothing against cyborgs in general, obviously, just the whole thing with him being a murderous supervillain who literally runs on kryptonite seems like it'd make us totally star-crossed. I want somebody I can actually commit to, you know?"

"Sure," Kara says, still eyeing the kryptonite with serious trepidation. It's really not helping Kon feel less like a time bomb, to be honest. Is there like some other side effect that he should be worrying about right now or something? Like, is he missing something here?

"You seem kinda high-strung about this," he observes, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Look, you'd have avoided it too if you'd dealt with it before!" she says protestingly. "So stay over there and definitely keep it away from Kal, I don't know if Jimmy ever really recovered from the last time."

"Oh, well, congrats to Jimmy, I guess," Kon says, since he can't really see a downside to scoring a one-night stand with Superman. Like, a downside for somebody who isn't literally his clone, he means. The clone thing would definitely make it weird.

Just it's also Clark, though, so he'd probably be the generous type in bed. Like, the sort to really take care of somebody. Be as gentle as happened to be appropriate but also be down if his partner maybe wanted it a little rough for whatever reason. And he'd definitely be able to go all night. Again, Kon isn't gonna go there himself, it really would be too weird, but he can make a logical conclusion. Extrapolate one. Whatever.

Then again he'd be down with Power Girl absolutely destroying him whenever the fuck she wanted to and she's genetically his . . . some form of cousin or something, he guesses. His half-cousin from another reality. So really, Clark's not even that weird an option. And like, all appearances aside Kon's a binary clone anyway, not even a one-for-one match, sooooo . . .

Actually it's probably weirder that he thinks Power Girl is so unspeakably hot but comparatively Kara is just . . . fine? Like, that's a little odd, isn't it?

Maybe it's an attitude thing. Or the costume.

Might be safe to blame the costume, yeah.

It's just such a good costume. Like, Kon aspires to reach that level of costume.

But really, all that aside he still doesn't even know what the big deal about temporarily going gay is, although to be fair he's also currently talking to Supergirl and not, like . . . literally any dude whatsoever. So like, who knows how weird this stuff might actually make him under those circumstances. Maybe it like fucks with inhibitions and stuff too?

Yeah, hell if he knows. He's really only dealt with green kryptonite before. He was vaguely aware that other colors existed and apparently did different stuff, but . . . this just seems very different, put it that way.

Maybe best to avoid Jimmy Olsen for a little while, Kon decides privately. The guy probably doesn't need that.

Besides, Clark apparently got there first anyway and Kon just really doesn't want to be worrying about measuring up. Miss him with that, thanks.

. . . although maybe he'll go visit Tim later.

Eh, no, Kara made it sound like the pink K's gonna stop affecting him pretty quick once they box it up, so not much point in bothering. Though maybe he'll visit just to hang, come to think of it; they haven't seen each other in almost a whole week. Well, he hasn't seen Tim, at least–who knows how much Bat-surveillance Tim's seen him through.

Kon should maybe sweep his room for bugs again. Note to self.

Although would it be weird to just like . . . keep the pink kryptonite, maybe? Since it apparently doesn't actually hurt anyone or anything? Because that could be, well . . . just interesting, that's all. Like, Kon is open to exploring that experience. Just–as an experience.

"Actually, you're surprisingly not high-strung about this," Kara says.

"Am I?" Kon asks. "I mean, it's not that big a deal, is it?"

She stares at him.

"Kon," she says slowly. "Pink kryptonite affects your sexuality. It makes you attracted to people you're not normally attracted to. It confuses you and everyone around you and it is really freaking embarrassing to explain afterwards."

"I've been mind-controlled into shaving my head and breaking my best friend's arm," Kon says, continuing to not really see what the big deal is. "That was embarrassing. And fucking traumatic. This? This is just kinda weird."

"Only kinda?" Kara asks incredulously. "You're one of the straightest guys I know! How are you just fine with this?!"

"I mean to be fair, that's probably making some unfair generalizations about straight guys," Kon points out. Kara stares at him. "What?"

"I don't even know how to respond to that," she says.

"Sorry?" Kon says, then tucks the pink kryptonite into his jacket pocket with a shrug. He's not trying to hide it or anything; just getting kinda sick of holding it. And it's that or he either ditches it somewhere or starts tossing it around and that'd probably be . . . just, well, absolutely epically stupid of him.

Or it seems like it would be, anyway. Whatever color it is, it's still kryptonite.

"I mentioned keeping that away from Kal, right?" Kara says.

"Yeah, on that note, are they like . . . done down there yet?" Kon asks, glancing down towards the mess of the street that Clark's standing on a few hundred feet below with a whole bunch of randos from S.T.A.R. Labs, for some reason. Somebody mentioned something about neutralizing Metallo's kryptonite heart without actually killing him, but mostly it was science talk and clearly theoretical anyway so to be honest Kon'd kinda tuned it all out as "not currently relevant", and that's all he knows.

"Definitely not," Kara says.

"I'm gonna call Robin while we're killing time, then," Kon says, pulling out his phone.

"You're going to call your closest male friend," Kara says. "Right now. While you've got pink kryptonite in your pocket."

"Yup," Kon says, already pulling up Tim's contact.

"Can you not see how that might be a bad idea at the moment?" Kara asks. "Not in any way whatsoever?"

"Well I'm not calling Impulse," Kon replies reasonably. Kara stares at him again, for some reason.

Eh, whatever.

He calls Tim.

"Hey, Conner, what's up?" Tim answers distractedly, which Kon doesn't hold against him because when isn't Tim distracted, really. Dude's got too much going on in that head of his, for real. He's just glad the guy ever picks up the phone at all.

"So apparently I'm gay right now," Kon greets conversationally, figuring he should lead with that just in case he actually is about to do something embarrassing to explain. "Pink kryptonite is fucking weird, man."

". . . uh," Tim says as Kara covers her face with her hands. "What?"

"Pink kryptonite makes you gay, Kara says," Kon says. "And we're both just kind of chilling above downtown Metropolis waiting for Kal to finish up with the science-y people so we can get said pink K locked up, so I'm bored out of my mind right now and calling you to complain about it."

"You're calling me," Tim says slowly. "While you're . . . gay."

"What, is he asking to come over?" another voice asks from the phone, sounding amused. It takes Kon a second to recognize it, but–oh yeah, that's the mysterious Bernard, isn't it?

Right, Tim has a boyfriend now. Kon's never actually met him on account of being the worst at secret identities and the whole thing that is Bernard living very firmly in Gotham, land of "no metas allowed unless you're either a supervillain or Batman's too dead to stop you", but he's heard him over the phone a couple times now, although they've never actually personally talked. So maybe thinking about Tim while being high on pink kryptonite isn't actually, like, kosher? Or polite. Or whatever.

. . . then again, Bernard did ask.

"I don't know, maybe?" Kon says thoughtfully, considering the idea. "Are you open to me coming over?"

"Yes," Bernard says.

"Bernard," Tim says.

"Babe, I know we're pretending I don't know you're an ass-kicking vigilante and all but come on, don't make me turn down Superboy," Bernard says wryly.

"We're–wait, pretending?!" Tim sputters.

"Pretending so, so hard," Bernard confirms, sounding nothing but fond. Kon's actually a little jealous of that tone of voice, he's gotta admit. Like–it's been a bit since anybody's talked to him that way, is all. "But like, if you actually thought you were being subtle maybe you shouldn't talk about kryptonite on the phone right in front of me or put themed emojis next to all your superfriends' civilian names in your contacts list?"

"Oh my god, you do that?!" Kon asks with a gleeful cackle, immediately forgetting everything else in favor of that absolutely delightful piece of information. "You're the worst! Batman just rolled over in his grave and Oracle is absolutely losing her shit on the other end of her wiretap!"

"B's not even dead right now," Tim says in exasperation. "And if O cared she'd have already hacked my phone and changed them. And for the record plenty of people put random superhero emojis next to their friends' names, that's a totally normal thing to do!"

"Usually the random superhero emojis aren't associated with contact pics that are dead fucking ringers for said superheroes," Bernard says, sounding amused again. "Just as a thing and all."

". . . anyway so you're gay today, how's that going for you, Conner?" Tim says as Bernard laughs gleefully in the background. "Triggering any unfortunate mental health crisises or anything? Making you worry about the validity of your masculinity? Because I can safely assure you that's all bullshit and you're fine."

"Naw, I know all that, being gay is just a thing," Kon says with a shrug. "Kara's being a little weird about it but honestly it's going way better than, like, the times supervillains mind-controlled me into being into them. Like just as an overall experience, I mean."

"Wait, how many times has that come up?" Tim asks in bemusement.

"I dunno?" Kon shrugs again. "I mean you were there for the Poison Ivy incident, and then Gorgeous Gilly happened to me a while later, which was, uh, genuinely horrifying because she tried to literally marry me during all that, so . . . I think just the twice, probably? But don't quote me on that, I don't even remember what I had for breakfast."

"And how is Kara being weird, exactly?" Tim says in his very unsubtle "assessing my teammate's psychological condition" voice.

"Oh, she's mostly just avoiding me?" Kon says, as a guy who's personally not really all that concerned with his psychological condition at the moment. "Because I've got the rock in my pocket on account of not wanting to just leave it lying around somewhere and she doesn't want to get affected by it. I don't know why, I don't really get why it matters."

"I mean it matters, definitely," Bernard says. "Like it very strongly matters to a lot of people."

"Fair, but I think we're all too invulnerable to really have to worry about getting gay-bashed or anything," Kon reasons. "Like, at least not as a heat of the moment thing."

". . . god can you imagine the world we would live in if every piece of shit gay-basher had to deal with the consequences of punching fucking Superman?" Bernard says feelingly. "For real."

"Oh, pink K's temporary," Kon clarifies. "Kal's not gay anymore."

"Hold up, I'm sorry, are you saying that at some point he was?" Bernard demands in obvious delight. "Is that what you're telling me right now?"

"I guess he was into redheads?" Kon says, tilting his head. "Slightly twinky redheads, specifically. Which I don't blame him for, I'm gonna be honest."

"Well now I know that forever, thanks," Tim says dryly.

"Alternate option: he could've been into Batman," Kon points out.

"Redheads it is," Tim says. "You just . . . redhead away over there."

"I mean I thought about it, kinda," Kon admits.

"Ngh," Tim says, for some reason.

"No thinking about Batman, though?" Bernard asks with a snicker.

"Not so much," Kon says, making a face. "Did consider having some Superman thoughts but I'm apparently not that narcissistic, surprisingly enough."

"Kon!" Kara chokes.

"Tell me you've never considered having Superman thoughts and I'll tell you you're a fucking liar," Kon snorts, shooting her a dry look. "Weren't you like totally naked when you first showed up on Earth? And then he found you like that and wrapped you up in his cape all nice and gentlemanly and took you home with him?"

"He is my baby cousin and you're being affected by pink kryptonite poisoning!" Kara accuses, her face bright red.

"Wait, is it actually poisoning me?" Kon says with a frown. "I feel like you should've led with it actually poisoning me, if that's actually a thing."

"Well no, not actually, it's physically harmless," Kara says grudgingly, folding her arms. "But you're still being affected! You're having Superman thoughts, of all things!"

"He just seems like he'd be considerate," Kon says reasonably. "Like, you know. Biblically."

"Ngh," Tim says, again for no apparent reason. Bernard sounds like he might be laughing. Or choking? Or maybe both; it's unclear.

"Please don't hit on Kal," Kara says. "Especially don't hit on Kal with pink kryptonite in your pocket. I don't want to know how that situation would end up."

"Ideally with him being considerate," Kon says. Tim chokes. Kara covers her face again.

"Does pink kryptonite affect your inhibitions too or are you just always like this?" Bernard asks curiously.

"Eh, pretty sure I'm just always like this, going by the things I've definitely still not been forgiven for saying to Power Girl," Kon says, idly tapping a finger against the side of his phone case. "Like, pretty damn sure at this point."

"That is unfortunately accurate," Tim agrees resignedly.

"So you're saying it is ethically okay to have Superboy over while he's gay," Bernard says in a promisingly speculative tone. Kon grins. Just a little, but yeah–definitely he grins. Kara grimaces, because she is absolutely no fun whatsoever.

Spoilsport.

"I did not in any way say that," Tim retorts dubiously.

"I mean that's what I heard, man, and I'm the one with super-hearing in this conversation," Kon says with a wider grin. "My inhibitions are all inhibited and my personal opinions of people are all the same, I'm just currently batting for the other team."

"So your normal opinion of me is that if you were gay, you'd come over," Tim says dryly.

"Yeah?" Kon says, raising an eyebrow. "I mean, obviously."

"How is that obvious?" Tim says.

"Because I already come over every time you let me," Kon reminds him.

"Oh yeah?" Bernard says slyly. "And how often does he let you come, exactly?"

"Not often enough," Kon replies honestly, and doesn't even bite at the obvious dumb sex joke Bernard so thoughtfully set up for him even though it is frankly painful not to.

"Ngh," Tim says. Kon continues not to understand the reason for him repeatedly making that same weird little noise, but whatever, he guesses. It's Tim, maybe he's stitching his own bullet wounds again or something. Guy's a multi-tasker like that.

"You know this would probably make for a fascinating case study about sexuality, actually," Bernard says musingly. "I mean, all I intend to do is abuse the situation to get into your very tight tights, but seriously, maybe we should all be taking notes or something."

"Ugh, hell no, Rob'll go full Bat if we let him do that," Kon snorts, then smirks. "He can take pictures, though, I know he's into that."

"Ngh," Tim says yet again, accompanied by a weird random "thump". If Kon didn't know better, he'd think he'd just fallen off a chair or something.

"Aw dammit, dude, I think I actually like you as a person now," Bernard says, sniggering. "Are you keeping the kryptonite? Please keep the kryptonite. Like, just for Valentine's and Tim's birthday, that's all I ask."

"Honestly don't know if Superman's gonna let me but I do kinda wanna," Kon admits. It seems pretty convenient, really. And definitely fun.

". . . and you're sure his inhibitions and opinions aren't being influenced in any way, Kara?" Tim asks suspiciously.

"He's really just like this, yeah," Kara says resignedly. "Well admittedly Kal spontaneously developed opinions on window treatments and used the word 'smashing' in cold blood when it happened to him, but that might've just been him sucking at flirting. Because he really does suck at flirting."

"What about when it was you?" Kon asks curiously.

"No one ever said it happened to me," Kara says.

"You kinda implied–"

"No one ever said it happened to me," Kara repeats, narrowing her eyes at him and doing an impressively bad job of acting like she's not blushing.

So it definitely happened to her, yeah.

"Okaaaaay, we'll pretend about that too then," Bernard says. "Well, what are your opinions on window treatments, Conner?"

"That I don't know what they are," Kon says.

"Sounds like he's in his right mind to me," Bernard says.

"He is absolutely not," Kara retorts dubiously.

"I really don't feel weird or anything, I swear," Kon tells her, since he still doesn't get the problem but also doesn't actually want to worry her either. "I don't even feel any different."

"Kon, you are hitting on your best friend and his boyfriend," Kara says. "Together. At once. Simultaneously, one might even say."

"You've met Wonder Girl and Arrowette before, right?" Kon says. "And both the Batgirls? And–"

"Oh my god, Kon," she cuts him off.

"Just saying," he says, then pauses for a moment and frowns consideringly. "Actually, question, how gay is this stuff making me, because while we're on the topic of threeways I kinda always wondered about what Starfire and Nightwing get up to together and if–"

"KON!" Kara yells, covering her ears.

"I'm just asking," he huffs.

"I don't know if it's actually possible to be gay enough to not be into Starfire," Bernard says musingly. "Like I can't imagine how it ever could be."

"Right?" Kon says.

"It's possible to not be into Starfire," Tim says. "Like, theoretically. Asexuals and aromantics both exist, for one."

"Do they?" Kon says doubtfully. "Like in general, sure, but when around specifically Starfire?"

". . . I can't technically prove you wrong due to a lack of reliable evidence but still," Tim says. "The possibility is there. If nothing else the multiverse is a thing."

"Last time I saw her she was wearing half a gold lamé bikini and I am not going to tell you which half or define how loosely I am using the term 'wearing'," Kon says.

"I said it's possible, not probable," Tim says.

"What about you, man, are you the gold lamé type?" Bernard asks with a teasing snicker. "Just while you're gay and all, of course. That's like, practically a cultural thing. Gotta be authentic to the experience, yeah?"

"That is in no way whatsoever a cultural thing, babe," Tim says dubiously.

"Please, like I've never worn freaking lamé," Kon scoffs. "I've worn collars and loincloths and leather and crop tops and enough unnecessary belts to tie up a Bat, lamé is nothing."

"Collars and . . . loincloths?" Bernard repeats, sounding confused.

"Yeah, this one time I crash-landed on a lost isle of beast-men and they kidnapped and enslaved me for a few months," Kon explains, waving a hand distractedly. "Frankly I count myself lucky they even let me have the collar, much less the loincloth."

". . . um," Bernard says.

"You, uh, never mentioned the collar part of that story before, Kon," Tim says, clearing his throat. "You very definitely never mentioned the collar part of that story before."

"Oh yeah, the prince kinda kept me as his pet for a little bit?" Kon tells him with an easy shrug. "Like he and all his buddies ganged up on me and then took me home with them, but I was kinda . . . feral, I guess? Technically? So like, collar and chain setup. But he was cool, he took real good care of me."

"Ngh," Tim says just barely faintly.

"Yeah you should definitely come over," Bernard says. "Tim, get the check. Conner, exactly how super is your super-speed?"

"You can just call me Kon," Kon says. "And . . . mach 3, last I clocked it?"

"Isn't that like two thousand miles per hour?" Bernard asks.

"Two thousand two hundred and twenty-three point three," Kon replies with a pleased smirk. "Faster than a speeding bullet. Or so they tell me."

"We'll just meet you at Tim's, how's that," Bernard says. "That work for you, Kon?"

"That works for me, Bernard," Kon confirms, smirking wider.

"Oh my god, Kon, you cannot possibly be serious right now," Kara says in exasperation, rubbing at her temples. "Just because you're temporarily gay doesn't mean you should do anything about it!"

"I mean, I'm feeling pretty serious?" Kon says, shrugging again. He still doesn't get why she's being so sensitive about this. "It's not like this is the weirdest thing I've ever done in pursuit of a good time. Like, holy hell, lemme tell you about the Ravers sometime."

"You're going to have to look Robin in the eye after this!" Kara says. "And work with him! And be a normal person in his presence! Normally!"

"I'm aware?" Kon says, vaguely bemused by her concern. Like he's never been normal around somebody he's slept with before, geez. "Tell Kal I ran off with the pink K, if he wants to lock it up in the Fortress or wherever I can bring it back tomorrow."

"Maybe Monday," Bernard says.

"Or maybe Monday," Kon amends.

"It's Thursday!" Kara sputters.

"So it's a long weekend," Bernard says.

"I'm not explaining this to Kal," Kara says. "I'm not explaining this to Batman."

"I really don't see why you'd have to," Kon says. "Rob, you cool with the long weekend thing? Not too much of an imposition?"

". . . I got the check," Tim mutters in obvious and absolute mortification.

Kon's gonna take that as a "yes".

"Cool," he says, grinning broadly. "See you soon, Boy Wonder."

He ends the call. Kara drags her hands down her face and continues to stay very far away from him and the pink kryptonite in his pocket.

"When you go back to normal and freak out and make everything weird with Robin and your team and even Robin's literal boyfriend, I'm going to say so many 'I told you so's," she swears vehemently. "So don't say I didn't warn you."

"Your objection is on the record," Kon says, then tosses her a lazy salute with another grin and takes off, kryptonite and all.

Best to just scarper while Clark's distracted, yeah?

Definitely best.

#kon el #tim drake #bernard dowd #timberkon #timkon #timber #superboy #dc robin #rinfic #wip: think pink

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pepsiboyy · 24 days

Text

CRUISE CONTROL.

pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader summary: with your parents arguing and the volume growing increasingly loud, you text your boyfriend matt to take you on a drive to clear your mind. warnings: established relationship, use of y/n lol, parents arguing, fluff, reckless driving if u squint a/n: i was driving home one night. really sad. and wanted to stick my head out the window. and got this idea. it's litterally just a little drabble sorry it's kinda bad but i think it's cute lowkey ANYWAY ENJOY

it was times like these where i allowed my mind to wander. staring at my ceiling, led lights on their lowest setting and alex g desperately trying to make its way into my head at full volume through my earbuds. no matter how high i turned it up, nothing tuned out the sounds of screaming and clashing and banging on the other side of the wall.

the deep circles under my eyes were particularly prominent about now. no matter how hard i tried, i couldn't seem to fall asleep.

the distortion in my earbuds due to the loud volume began to annoy me and i ripped them out by the cord for some relief, but i was immediately reminded of the sound of my parents.

i quickly reached for my phone and unlocked it, going into my messages and finding matt. i began typing, attempting to get my mind away from the sound of my parents screaming.

i dropped my phone in my lap as i took a deep breath.

now for the hard part.

i carefully sat up and made my way to my closet to grab one of matt's hoodies that he had left over and pulled it over myself, keeping my pajama pants on.

i carefully slipped on some socks and checkered vans before making my way to my bedroom door.

a deep sigh escaped my lips.

gently, i pushed the door opened and tip-toed out of my room, ignoring the increasing volume of my parents shouting. i flew down the stairs and to the front door, biting my lip harshly as i slipped out and quickly shut the door behind me.

silence.

i pressed my back against the front door and slid down it, my hands covering my face as i took in a deep breath and let out a shaky breath.

all that i could hear was the soft breeze and the sound of my breathing.

the outdoors is such a peaceful place, i thought. i should come out here more often.

the sound of tires against the gravel caused me to lift my head and quickly scramble to my feet, making my way to the van in front of my home.

matt met me halfway and pulled me into a tight hug, gently resting his head on top of mine and allowing a hand to rub my upper back gently in circles.

"you okay?" he questioned softly, his voice so gentle as if i were going to crack if he spoke any louder.

"'m okay." i mumbled against his chest, gently pulling away and smiling at him reassuringly.

matt's eyes scanned my expression, and he nodded softly as he caressed my cheek and gently took me by my hand. "let's go for a ride, okay?"

nights like these were my favorite.

nights where matt gave me the aux, his hand on my thigh as we drove absolutely everywhere but at the same time, nowhere. flying down the road going heinous speeds, no set destination, matt and i simply had each other and that was what mattered to us most in these moments.

with all of the windows down and the music all the way up, i bit my lip as i smiled at matt.

a thought ran through my mind that i couldn't seem to resist.

my hand gently ran over matt's that was on my leg, taking his hand in my own and setting it to the side.

matt shot me a glance in confusion. "you okay?"

i smiled and nodded as i unbuckled my seatbelt.

"y/n-"

"don't worry," i smiled as i sat up and pressed a button, opening the sunroof and sitting up.

for the sake of matt's sanity, i gently held his hand and lifted my head out of the window, smiling as i felt the wind immediately hit my skin and my hair. my eyes felt like they desperately needed to close, but i didn't care.

most would think this is psycho, or i look stupid.

for some reason, each gust of air that brushed past me felt like a wave of relief.

about fifteen seconds went by and i sat back down in the car, smiling at matt who couldn't help but giggle at my expression.

"you feel better?" he questioned, and i nodded happily. "can i fix your hair?" he chuckled, and i nodded as my face grew warm.

matt, after pulling into a gas station and parking by a gas pump, gently reached over and took my stands between his fingers as he flattened them and fixed the stray ones. he gently ran his finger against my cheek and smiled at me, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to my lips.

i smiled against his lips and gently squeezed his hand, our fingers tightly intertwined, before he pulled away and smiled at me.

"go get your gas, i'll be waiting here for you." i whispered.

matt nodded as he rolled the windows down and pressed one more quick peck to your cheek before opening the door and getting out.

i let out a deep breath as i looked at my fingers, smiling to myself.

matt always knew how to make me feel better. whether it be talking through emotions with me or as simple as just existing beside me, he was the best.

matt leaned into the car, his arms against the bottom of the rolled down window as he smiled at me warmly, and i turned to him.

"wanna spend the night tonight?" he questioned.

it was tempting, but i knew i needed to be home tonight. if my parents were going to be angry at me any night, it would be tonight.

"i'll go home tonight, but i would love to tomorrow if the offer still stands." i smiled.

he held out his pinkie with a soft smile, and i locked my pinkie with his.

"the offer is always standing for you, y/n."

i sighed as i undid my seatbelt.

"you gonna be okay?"

i turned to matt and nodded with a soft smile, beginning to get out of the car. matt did the same and walked with me to my doorstep, gently taking both of my hands in his once we arrived.

"call me if you need anything, or anyone to talk to.. i'll be here, okay?" he smiled.

i nodded as i let out a deep breath and leaned into matt, pulling him into a tight hug.

"thank you matt." i whispered, and matt smiled as he hugged me back tightly, hands running against my back again.

"of course, my love." he bit his lip as he pulled away and smiled at me, leaning down for one last kiss.

i hummed softly against his lips before we both pulled away.

"drive safe." i told him before opening my front door and stepping inside.

the silence was loud.

i assume my parents fell asleep.

i made my way up the stairs carefully and let out a deep sigh as i kicked off my shoes and laid against my sheets.

sometimes some loud music and company is all you need, and tonight helped me with my loud thoughts and parents. but it also helped me realize how much matt truly means to me.

i couldn't be more grateful.

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #matthew x reader #matt x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fluff #fluff #matt fluff #matt x reader fluff

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darkbluekies · 9 months

Note

Now that you mentioned drunk Silas, I would like to know what would happen if he came home drunk, lol

And I really like your work

Like literally to die for

Drunk off of you

mafia!yandere OC x fem!reader

Summary: Silas comes home drunk and has a need for you

Warnings: nsfw, possessive behavior

Word count: 0.8k

A/N: my very first sexual scene that I managed to complete!! I really liked it but I'm very nervous to show it so don't be surprised if I become a coward and take it down later</3

Silas fumbles through the door late at night. He grunts sluggishly. You wake up when he accidentally drops his keys on the floor. Quickly, you sit up and look at his dark shadow.

“Oh, sorry”, he mumbles drunkenly. “Didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“Where have you been?” you ask quietly.

“Nowhere, don’t worry about it, darling.”

You know better than to ask questions about his whereabouts. You should consider yourself lucky that he isn’t covered in blood as usual.

He drags himself over to the bed and lies on top of your legs, hugging them. Silas presses his cheek against your knees while sighing out. By the way his fingertips dig into the covers, you can already tell just what type of drunk he is tonight.

“Touch me”, he mumbles with his eyes closed. “Run your fingers through my hair.”

You listen. Carefully, you touch his black strands and let your fingers massage his scalp. Silas breathes out and relaxes. He snuggles closer to your legs and smile.

“I love you”, he whispers.

You can’t bring yourself to say it back. Telling a mafia leader that you love him will lock you into a prison you will never get out of, you know that. Better to keep those words to yourself … for now. Instead, you touch his hair again, which seem to be the only answer he needs. Silas opens his dark eyes and looks up at your face. The lustful sparkle makes you gulp. You damn the butterflies that hatch in your stomach.

“I want you”, he says calmly, surely. “I want to feel you.”

You don’t answer. If you do, you’ll start to babble. Silas lifts himself up and crawls closer to you, until you can feel his whiskey-filled breath on your face. He glances down at your lips before meeting your eyes. The way his black eyes burn with lust intrigue you.

“Will you let me?” he asks softly.

You nod. Silas doesn’t waste a second before pressing his lips to yours. He breathes in your air until your lungs burn. His tongue corrupts your mouth with a taste of expensive whiskey. You can feel his fingers dig into the side of your throat and jaw. He wants you closer.

Silas’s every movement is careful — as careful as a wasted person can manage. Your bare body press against his much warmer. Silas wraps his muscular arms around your waist, holding you close. He wants you pressed up against him — be one with him.

“Doing okay?” he breathes out and pulls back to look at you.

You nod. Silas smiles lazily and dives into you. For a moment you’re certain that you can see sounds and hear colors. Suddenly you can feel every single fiber in your body. You hide your face down in Silas’s shoulder, trying to come back to reality. Silas chuckles and runs his hand down your back.

“You flatter me, darling”, he smirks. “Do you need a moment?”

You nod against his shoulder, feeling more flustered than you’ve ever been. Silas laughs lovingly and kisses your cheek. You can feel how he draws circles on your back while whispering sweet affirmations in your ear.

He takes your hands as he starts to move, squeezing them harshly. You're not sure if he does it to soothe you or himself. In reality, he feels as overwhelmed as you. There's nothing he likes more than to be filled with you. You, you and only you. His darling. His sweetheart. His reason to live. His. Silas loves to call you his. You're his and no one else's, will never ever be. He's the only one allowed to be inside of you, and the very thought of it makes his brain jump. He wants to show you off and brag to the world and at the same time keep you all to himself.

You don’t know what to do with your body, you can’t control it. Silas grabs your hands and holds them above you in an attempt to stretch you out and keep you on the mattress.

“Feeling good?” he whispers in your ear and you nod quickly. “Good.”

He continues to talk and talk and talk, until his words turn darker and darker. From sweet nothings like ‘you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me’, ‘you’re doing so good’ to husky promises of ‘I will never let you go’ and ‘you’re mine only’. The more the alcohol leaves his body, the drunkness of you enters — and that’s much more dangerous than any kind of drug. Despite his words turning more and more possessive, his body language stays the same.

Maybe that’s why you can’t seem to hate him. Despite his actions, he will always be sweet to you. But even if he wasn’t, he said it himself: he will never let you go, you’re his only.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere mafia #yandere fics #yandere stories #yandere oc x reader

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invidiia · 9 months

Text

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ "you're obsessed.." 𖤐 various bsd yanderes // reader.

bsd yanderes ada, pm, doa, hd + the jealousy scale.

[ a/n; hi i was bored and gotta feed the people bc my next big post is takin a bit 🏃‍♂️]

[ warning; jealous yanderes lolol ]

atsushi is a 6 of 10. definitely hides any jealous thoughts, at least until you're both home, but is absolutely bitter about it after

dazai is a fair 7 of 10. i don't have a lot to say about him, but he most definitely gets jealous easily

kunikida is a 5 of 10. when he's with you and you get hit spoken to by someone else, he just takes control of the situation and leaves with you. obviously against your choices, but he doesn't trust you.

ranpo is a 6 of 10. doesn't get too worried about other guys because he knows you wouldn't go for anyone else other than the greatest detective ever, but when another guy flirts with you, he just feels the need to.. step in.

yosano is a 7 of 10. she doesn't mind when others speak to you, as long as they aren't flirting with you, and that's a loose term with her. asking for directions in a large mall could get someone's fingers chopped off if she was in a particularly annoyed mood.

fukuzawa is a 4 of 10. he doesn't care if people talk to you either, but flirting is off the table with him. even so, he'll just leave the area and take you with him, he can't just let some other guy talk to you, are you crazy?

akutagawa is a 8 of 10. if someone's making small talk or something he doesn't care, but even speaking to you or looking at you for too long is just like asking for him to beat them senselessly.

chuuya is a 8 of 10. like akutagawa, small talk doesn't matter to him. you're socializing, who cares? but he's absolutely jealous of your friends, especially your close ones. strangers, he can beat the shit out of those, but your friends? he can't do anything there, so he just sits in silence.

higuchi is an 9 of 10. she hates when anyone else talks to you, she just can't stand it. she'll openly tell you how much she hates it when other people beside her 'flirt' with you, and makes you promise not to hurt her like that again.

gin is a 3 of 10. she does get jealous of other people like your closer friends, but doesn't act on anything, just sits in silence. maybe she'll express to you she was jealous, but she won't hurt anyone unless they make advances on you

tachihara is a 6 of 10. he does get jealous of your friends, but doesn't hate them. he just wants to be in their place. who says you should spend all your time with them? leave some room for him, won't you?

sigma is a 7 of 10. he won't make direct moves if he's jealous, he'll only tell you he's jealous afterward, or work behind scenes to get rid of the certain person he thinks talks to you a little too much for his liking.

fyodor is a 9 of 10. he doesn't think you'll talk to anyone else, it's about others talking to you. he just can't have you talking to anyone but him. why would you need to anyway?

nikolai is a 8 of 10. i don't have a whole lot to say about him either, but he's not afraid to be... himself,, if someone talks to you a little too much.

jouno is a 9 of 10. he knows you won't actually speak to other guys.. but still. he isn't chill when other guys talk to you, and gets worse when they eye you the wrong way,

tecchou is a 4 of 10. this man sees no reason to be jealous of your friends, or anyone who says they don't want you. why would they lie to him anyway? look at him, he's strong as hell. would you lie to him? didn't think so

[ a/n; sobs im so tired can you telllll ?? i only wrote doa trio bc.. fukuchi is strange, bram is just.. bram, plus i kinda only see him as platonic yandere loll, didnt do teruko cuz idk her actual age.. sorry this is so rushed lol its 2am i gotta go to beddd, but next post is dazai fr!!!!! ]

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lovelyney · 1 year

Text

─────DATING THEM !! SUMERU GUYS───────

CHARACTERS: al haitham, cyno, kaveh, tighnari

SCENT: headcanons

WARNINGS: suggestive themes on all of them, LOL.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯2023 !! #©LOVELYNEY

꒱₊˚ 𝐀𝐋 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌 !! 𝐀𝐃𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

𖠵𝟎𝟏: Literally a grouchy old man, LMAO. And I’m not just saying this because of his hair ‹/3

𖠵𝟎𝟐: Almost nobody believed you when you said you were dating Haitham ‹/3 Merely because people thought of him as seeing relationships as a “waste of his time.”

oh, did he prove them wrong as he walked up behind you and kissed your cheek, eyes boring through the back of their heads.

𖠵𝟎𝟑: Kaveh didn’t believe him for a second when he said he had a s/o; he had to meet you in person for him to accept it.

“You must be, (NAME). I can’t believe you’re actually real and not some imaginary person Al Haitham made up to make himself feel better. Archons, you’re pretty too. Are you being hypnotized? Forced, maybe?”

“You are testing every last drop of my patience, Kaveh.”

𖠵𝟎𝟒: Incredibly sassy and cocky; he purposefully gets on your nerves, LMAO.

𖠵𝟎𝟓: Acts like your overly strict parent rather than your boyfriend sometimes ‹/3

𖠵𝟎𝟔: He isn’t a very touchy person (if at all), however, he doesn’t necessarily mind if you cling to him.

an exception to this is if he’s around other people like Cyno or Dehya. not because he’s ashamed of you or anything, he just rather keep his cool guy persona up and not get teased, LOL.

𖠵𝟎𝟕: Gives you his cape without any hesitation whenever you get scared or cold ‹3

𖠵𝟎𝟖: “Baby/babe,” “darling,” and “bluebell.”

❝ Oh, welcome back, bluebell. How did your meeting go? I saw you were talking with Cyno. What? No, of course, I’m not jealous. I just don’t trust him with you—both because of our rivalry and because of how. . . enchanting you are. It’s natural for him to want to steal you from me. ❞

𖠵𝟎𝟗: He doesn’t get jealous very often since his trust in you runs strong.

𖠵𝟏𝟎: (↑) However, he will get impatient if you’re not giving him your full-blown attention when he wants it, LMAO.

𖠵𝟏𝟏: Flirts with you with literally no shame—doesn’t matter when or where.

𖠵𝟏𝟐: Acts annoyed whenever he has to get you out of trouble, but he doesn’t really mind; he’s just worried you’re going to get yourself seriously hurt one of the times.

𖠵𝟏𝟑: Often pulls you in his lap whenever he’s reading or studying something—letting you fumble with one of his hands as he continues doing whatever.

𖠵𝟏𝟒: God forbid anyone hurts you or says something bad. He will either obliterate them or humiliate them horribly.

𖠵𝟏𝟓: Whenever he goes to hold your hand, he’ll always bring his lips to your inner wrist ‹3

𖠵𝟏𝟔: Let’s say you were with him and Aether when traversing to Aeru Village when Cyno tried to uh. . . ambush him. He immediately pushed you behind him.

“Haitham, stop glaring at Cyno. I’m sure he didn’t expect me to be there.”

“He could’ve seriously hurt you, (NAME). That is a matter I do not take lightly, and you know that.”

𖠵𝟏𝟕: Always has his hand resting on you (mostly on your thigh) when you two are in a meeting.

𖠵𝟏𝟖: You’ve had a few encounters where people selling Canned Knowledge tried to threaten you for Haitham’s whereabouts, and boy when he finds out, he is far from pleased.

𖠵𝟏𝟗: Listen,,,, LISTEN. He probably fucks you in Kaveh’s bed, LMAO.

𖠵𝟐𝟎: He says he helped out for “his own personal reasons.” However, when he found out what the Akademiya was doing, his thoughts wandered to you and how you were doing.

𖠵𝟐𝟏: Probably tugs on your lower lip when he pulls away from kissing you.

𖠵𝟐𝟐: He’s a tad emotionally constipated ‹/3 Try to be patient with him.

𖠵𝟐𝟑: Arguments with him are a pain in the ass cause he thinks he knows everything 😑Bitch, maybe you should know a therapist.

he’s also one try to provoke and make you flustered in arguments.

꒱₊˚ 𝐂𝐘𝐍𝐎 !! 𝐉𝐔𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐒

𖠵𝟎𝟏: Cyno is quite literally your personal bodyguard ‹/3

𖠵𝟎𝟐: God, you two definitely play TCG together !! Your first few games, he tried so hard to go easy on you, LMAO; man’s is competitive ‹/3

after that. . . however, he uses that as an excuse whenever you beat his ass; LMAO.

“How did you so effortlessly wipe out my perfect deck? What do you know that I don’t?”

“Cyno, I love you, but maybe your ‘perfect’ deck isn’t so perfect if you keep losing.”

“I—I told you. . . I just was going easy on you this time. I don’t normally play like this.”

“Yeah, that sounds just as believable as all the other 10 times you’ve said it.”

𖠵𝟎𝟑: He was initially so awkward around you; Tighnari had to be his wingman because he quite literally wouldn’t get anywhere without his guidance, LMAO.

𖠵𝟎𝟒: Another one where people didn’t believe that you were dating him; he came behind them and was like “🤨”

𖠵𝟎𝟓: Looks out for you 24/7 !! His mom-boyfriend mode turns on whenever you get in his line of vision, LMAO.

𖠵𝟎𝟔: Always questions if you’re taking proper care of yourself; he will not have you neglecting yourself in any way, shape, or form.

“(NAME) you haven’t moved from this spot since I’ve left—that was four hours ago. Have you eaten at all? No? I figured as much; now, come on and get up. I’m making food and you’re putting down that paper.”

𖠵𝟎𝟕: When you first met Al Haitham, you literally thought Cyno was going to start barking with how he guarded you.

HAITHAM: “Oh? You must be Cyno’s significant other, (NAME), right? Hm, it’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Al Haitham, your boyfriend’s assassination target. I’m sure he’s told you about me.”

“Why in all of Teyvat would I mention anything of you to (NAME)? Given that I'm in love with them, I'd rather not drive them mad by discussing you with them.”

𖠵𝟎𝟖: Definitely teaches some of his intimidation and fighting techniques to you so that you can properly protect yourself.

𖠵𝟎𝟗: “Doll,” “(sweet) dove,” and “love/love-bug.”

❝ Oh? Welcome back, dove. How come you look so worn out? Did someone give you trouble on your way back? Oh, you don’t say. Did you apply some of the techniques I told you? Yeah? Heh, that’s my girl/boy. ❞

𖠵𝟏𝟎: Always keeps a watchful eye on you wherever he goes, especially on the more dangerous missions you set out on.

𖠵𝟏𝟏: Similar to Haitham, people normally steer clear of messing with you because you’re the General Mahamatra’s s/o, but also will purposely do so because of that reason.

“They did what to you? You’re kidding. . . Doll, you don’t happen to remember how they look, do you? Or the direction they went in? In no way am I letting this go unpunished. They can threaten me all they like, but getting you involved is crossing the line with me.”

𖠵𝟏𝟐: Whenever he’s working on paperwork, he’ll always pull you on his lap without second thought—absentmindedly drumming his fingers against your thigh when he’s deep in thought.

𖠵𝟏𝟑: He loves your fingers through his hair ‹3 Especially when you slightly scratch his scalp—it’s one of the things that truly relaxes him.

𖠵𝟏𝟒: Thrives in intimate moments between you two ‹3 I mean bathing together, make-out sessions, sex.

𖠵𝟏𝟓: I can see him being a jealous/possessive type. ESPECIALLY if you’re laughing at the person’s jokes. that sets off a fire in him he never knew he had.

sometimes he’ll actually just walk up to you, grab your hand, and drag you away from whoever you’re talking to. and sneak you away into an alleyway to make out with you.

𖠵𝟏𝟔: He will so nonchalantly say things that fluster you and then act confused why you’re so red.

“Love? Why did you grow so quiet all of the sudden? Did I say something wrong?”

“Cyno, you literally just said if it weren’t for everyone being here, you’d have me pushed against the wall.”

𖠵𝟏𝟕: Loves whenever you’re sleeping on top of him; he relishes in your body heat.

𖠵𝟏𝟖: Always grabs your chin before kissing you; if he wants to kiss you, he’s kissing you, LMAO.

he's a strangely good kisser. . . he's rough with his kisses, but he's also incredibly passionate with them.

𖠵𝟏𝟗: Very awkward when he’s comforting you; the one thought that sticks to his mind is: “who dare hurt the only one love? I swear on Lessor Lord Kusanali, they will receive the most cruelest judgment.”

𖠵𝟐𝟎: Loves whenever you’re working out in the desert so he can see you all sweaty.

𖠵𝟐𝟏: Has a weird adoration for your shoulder blades and collarbone; it’s where he loves to leave his marks.

𖠵𝟐𝟐: Always slips his cape around your shoulders whenever you fall asleep on him or while you’re working.

𖠵𝟐𝟑: If your legs are tired after walking for a while, you can guarantee Cyno will carry you the way back 😭 (Mom, I love him, can I pls have his hand in marriage.)

𖠵𝟐𝟒: Surprisingly clingy, in public and not. he doesn’t really care what people think of him, so he’ll love on you as he wishes.

𖠵𝟐𝟓: (↑) One of his favorites is holding your hand !! He loves how soft and small yours feels compared to his.

𖠵𝟐𝟔: Always gives you a kiss before he or you leaves (: Doesn’t matter who’s in the room.

“(Sighs.) Be careful out there, okay, doll? I love you.”

HAITHAM: “How disgustingly sweet…”

“At least someone loves me, Al Haitham.”

HAITHAM: “…excuse me?”

𖠵𝟐𝟕: His favorite places to kiss you is your collarbone, the backs of your hands, and your neck.

𖠵𝟐𝟖: Smiles against your lips whenever he kisses you and HDJDJDKD.

𖠵𝟐𝟗: He is a great secret keeper !! and he's also very non-judgmental. He'll take whatever you say to him to his grave.

𖠵𝟑𝟎: Also a wonderful person to gossip too because he always has a stoic expression, lol.

𖠵𝟑𝟏: Incredibly cheesy and stupid pickup lines </3 Tighnari prays for you every day.

꒱₊˚ 𝐊𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐇 !! 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐘𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

𖠵𝟎𝟏: An incredibly dramatic hopeless romantic. (Me, LMAO.)

𖠵𝟎𝟐: A literal koala when it comes to you; he’s attached to your hip 24/7 when he’s available. Al Haitham questions your taste in men. (He’s secretly happy that Kaveh’s so happy with you.)

𖠵𝟎𝟑: Would probably do anything and everything for you ?? He’s literally like a lost puppy dog without you.

𖠵𝟎𝟒: You’re number one gossip partner !! He loves to gossip, but he always promises to keep whatever you say to him in between the two of you.

𖠵𝟎𝟓: A big cuddle bug !! Especially after work or in the earlier mornings. It’s nearly impossible to pry him off you in the mornings. . .

𖠵𝟎𝟔: Likes to hug you from behind whenever you cook. That way he can smell the delicious food and relish in your warmth.

𖠵𝟎𝟕: “Angel,” “baby/babe,” “mi amor/amor,” “my love/love,” “sweetheart” and probably like a thousand more.

❝(NAME)! Thank the dendro archon, you’re here! You won’t believe the attitude Al Haitham gave me today! I told him how we started dating, and get this. . . He didn’t believe me! Can you believe that? So, therefore, I’m taking you to meet him tomorrow to prove it! Then we’ll see who’s laughing now!❞

𖠵𝟎𝟖: Needs reassurance that he’s enough for you.

𖠵𝟎𝟗: Kisses everywhere !! His favorite places are right beneath your ears, the inside of your wrists and of course, your lips.

𖠵𝟏𝟎: (↑) A feisty kisser !! He can get needy after long times without seeing you. (Deeper kisses, hands clutching you a bit more tightly, whining.)

𖠵𝟏𝟏: Get’s jealous prettyyy easily. . . Especially if it’s around Al Haitham or anyone he thinks is better than him ☹️

“Hey! Find your own lover to hit on, jackass! This one’s mine!”

𖠵𝟏𝟐: (↑) If the flirting or stares are continuous, he’ll beg you to let him mark you just so that it’s something when he’s not there. With enough puppy eyes and begging, you’ll let him. . .

𖠵𝟏𝟑: Loves making out with you. He also can’t keep his hands off you no matter what. His hands are always busy when he’s kissing you.

𖠵𝟏𝟒: Dreams about the day where he gets to design his and your baby’s room. ☹️☹️☹️☹️.

𖠵𝟏𝟓: Likes to drag you to the group’s TCG hangouts. They don’t mind, not unless he won’t shut up about you or is showing immense amounts of PDA. 😭😭

𖠵𝟏𝟔: (↑) Speaking of PDA. . . He loves it, especially if you’re the one to initiate it.

𖠵𝟏𝟕: Tries to hide it, but he gets super worried about you when you’re not around. . . One of his biggest fears is losing you.

꒱₊˚ 𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈 !! 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑

𖠵𝟎𝟎: I love this sassy fox sm omg 😡😡

𖠵𝟎𝟏: As I just said, Tighnari is incredibly sassy, LMAO. He was when you first met; he is now when you two are dating ‹/3 although his sass is more manifested in a loving way towards you.

𖠵𝟎𝟐: He lives to tease you—both flirtatiously and not. He loves to watch your expression shift and face flush.

𖠵𝟎𝟑: Fennec foxes mate for life, so there’s no escaping him when you’re together ‹/3

𖠵𝟎𝟒: Will always subconsciously wrap his tail around your waist or thigh whenever you’re standing close to him.

𖠵𝟎𝟓: (↑) Whenever you’re going out somewhere, he’ll always brush his tail against you multiple times; it’s his way of scenting you.

𖠵𝟎𝟔: Flirty !! Like surprisingly flirty—and like Cyno, he doesn’t do it without much thought. He loves to see your face redden because of his comments.

𖠵𝟎𝟕: Obviously, being best friends with Collei !! You always spend lots of time with her whenever he’s being petty—which is all the time 🙄

𖠵𝟎𝟖: Speaking of Collei, she thinks you two are the cutest together ): She loves asking him or you how you two are doing !! You’ve basically adopted her.

𖠵𝟎𝟗: Brings you home lots of different jewels or plants from the expeditions he goes on, then gives you an entire lecture on what type is it and how to take care of it 😭😭

𖠵𝟏𝟎: “Cutie,” “(little) kit,” “(my) butterfly,” “(my) flower,” “rose/rosebud,” “sunflower,” or “sweetheart.”

❝ You’re finally back. . . Where exactly have you been all day, rosebud? Hm? With Collei, you say? And you didn’t care to tell me? You had me worrying like a madman all day, you lummox! Don’t roll your eyes at me! You know how much I love and care about you. Don’t play dumb with me, kit. I make my love for you very apparent, do I not? ❞

𖠵𝟏𝟏: Any stupid decision or antic you make is never unnoticed by Tighnari, LMAO. He’ll always give you a 10-minute lecture as he’s bandaging you. he is your mom-boyfriend.

𖠵𝟏𝟐: Despite his sarcastic nature, it’s apparent to anyone in Gandhara Ville how his voice softens when talking to you or how his ears always perk at the mention of your name ‹3

𖠵𝟏𝟑: He loves speaking of your accomplishments to others !! As I said, he is your mom-boyfriend 🫶🫶

CYNO: “So, how’s (NAME) doing? You haven’t talked them to death, have you?”

“Oh, (NAME)? They’re doing alright, I believe. Did they tell you that they finally perfected their flower revival process? Gosh, they’ve been trying for months, and they finally got it just last week. The joy in their eyes as they showed me was unmatchable, Cyno. And…” doesn’t stop talking for 10 minutes.

𖠵𝟏𝟒: He’s very clingy in the mornings !! He’ll latch onto you and won’t let you go until he himself gets up.

𖠵𝟏𝟓: You’re the only one privileged to pet his ears and tail !! He even lets you brush them !! He thinks your focused expression is oh-so-cute ‹3

𖠵𝟏𝟔: Goes on high alert whenever he smells another guy’s scent on you.

𖠵𝟏𝟕: Purrs whenever you scratch at the base of his ears; he melts right into your arms.

𖠵𝟏𝟖: Hates seeing you upset because he feels incredibly helpless ): Especially if you’re fighting against your own emotions and/or thoughts.

𖠵𝟏𝟗: Adores leaving marks on places that’re visible to the public eye. He hates sharing you but bares with it by marking his territory (you.)

𖠵𝟐𝟎: Takes really good care of you when you’re sick, having the best remedies and making the best food; however, he will not shut up—tread carefully, LOL.

𖠵𝟐𝟏: Being a respectful person, he won’t normally result to violence if he hears someone disrespecting you. He will humiliate them in every way he can, though.

“What did I hear you say about (NAME)? That they’re talentless, correct? Did you know they can completely bring plants back to life? No, of course, you didn’t. And what have you done, hm? Didn’t you mistake poison ivy for mint leaves one time? Would you like me to recite that incident word for word for you? No? Then I’d advise you to keep my lover’s name out of your mouth.”

𖠵𝟐𝟐: He’s very patient with you !! If you’re struggling with something, he will go over it with you as many times as you’d like.

𖠵𝟐𝟑: Likes to take you with on his ranger’s duties so you can’t get yourself hurt. Or so that nobody can get too close to you.

𖠵𝟐𝟒: He’s the type to get angry at you whenever you put yourself in danger—his worry of losing you manifests into anger.

𖠵𝟐𝟓: Whenever he senses danger, his tail will wrap around your waist and he’ll pull you closer against his side.

𖠵𝟐𝟔: Protects and guards you as if you were his actual kit.

𖠵𝟐𝟕: Loves to hold your hand whenever you two are out—giving it a gentle tug if you were to wander too far from his side.

𖠵𝟐𝟖: Whenever he teaches you archery, he’ll always kiss your cheek before pulling away from you, laughing if you were to get flustered and mess up.

𖠵𝟐𝟗: He acts kinda blandly whenever receiving gifts from you, but he guards them with his life 😭 He finds it really cute whenever you bring him something that reminded you of him.

𖠵𝟑𝟎: Since his days are usually spent patrolling the forests and researching, he tries to make every date of yours count and perfect; he feels guilty he isn’t with you very often.

𖠵𝟑𝟏: If you’re resting on him while he’s working, he will do everything he can to ensure you stay asleep—glaring at anyone who’s being too noisy.

𖠵𝟑𝟐: Before you nap or go to sleep, he’ll always make your bed and fluff up the pillows to make sure you rest comfortably ‹3

𖠵𝟑𝟑: Has a dedicated notebook filled with stuff about you: your likes, dislikes, habits, etc.

5K notes · View notes

singmyaubade · 10 months

Text

Lovegame

Poly!Marauders x Female!Reader

A/N: Hello! I've wanted something like this for a while, but I didn't have the time, but now I do, LOL. I hope you enjoy this <333

Summary: What's wrong with having them all if you have the time?

Warning: Containing smut: blowjobs, giving head, p in v, etc... Cursing, and other things. Viewer discretion is advised.

You awoke to kisses along your jawline, down to your neck as a smile grew on your yawning mouth, "Jamesy, it's so early," You said, looking into his eyes as his eyes peered back at you, sinking down your body.

You groaned as he circled your clit before attacking with his mouth, sucking on your clit, causing you to almost scream.

Thank god he was a prefect.

Your finger entangled James's hair, pulling on the strands of his curly hair as he groaned, and you knew James liked you doing that.

You were still sore from last night, and you knew James liked eating your pussy, but in the morning? You knew he was undoubtedly eager this morning for some reason.

He was drinking you like his favorite drink, and it was getting harder not to come.

You rose, holding yourself using your elbows as you watched James devour you.

As he shoved two fingers inside you, you lost it, feeling yourself closer to your orgasm as you came, and you could feel James grinning from ear to ear.

You laid back onto the pillow, breathing harshly as James kissed up your body to your mouth. His tongue is inside of your mouth as he always loved for you to taste yourself.

You pulled back, "What was that for?" You asked him, raising an eyebrow.

"Can't I just be happy to wake up with you?" He asked, kissing your neck.

"Of course you can," You moaned, "But in the morning? Am I missing something?" You asked as he laughed.

"Trust me, I'm just happy to see you," He kissed you before getting up and going to the bathroom.

You watched his bare ass walk away as you were mentally in awe of how you could've ever got him in the first place when he used to fuck girls and never be exclusive.

You and James had met after one of his Quidditch games, where you congratulated him and asked if you could be his trophy.

Of course, but since James Potter is corny, it worked on him entirely.

So you gave him a blowjob in the locker room, and since then, you have enchanted him; it was like no other girl could ever level up to you.

He said you tasted of sweet nectarines in the summertime, and your mouth tasted like cherry, you always thought he was delusional, but since he ate you out so much, you didn't consider it a joke anymore.

You remembered the time, getting up and putting on your school uniform, "Jamesy, I have to go study with Remus! I'll see you during potions," You yelled as James yelled a quick 'okay' and that he loved you.

You yelled it back before rushing out with your book bag hanging off your shoulder. You run to the library to see Remus sitting at one of the tables.

You walked over to the table as Remus had his pointer finger and thumb over by his temple; he looked more stressed than usual.

He always worked too hard for his own good.

"Remmy?" You said as he smiled at you.

"Hey, I got you the books you needed for your essay on Thestrals," He said as you grinned.

"Thank you, I appreciate it," You replied, going over to him and kissing him thoroughly. He was a bit surprised as you held the back of your head.

You were glad it was too early for the library to be crowded.

"Are you making it up to me that you couldn't meet me last night?" He asked with a chuckle.

"Well, I was busy, but trust me, I did miss you in a way," You winked as he laughed.

"Can I really make it up to you though?" You asked, dropping your pencil under the table as you went under the table.

"Y/n." He said as you unbuckled his belt, pulling down his trousers a bit, "We should really study,"

You gripped him in your hand, "Don't worry, go ahead and study; I'll catch up," You said, sucking on the tip of him.

You could feel his leg tense as you rested your free palm on his thigh, swirling your tongue around his tip.

You heard him groan as you took him in entirely, and you could listen to his palms lay flat on the table as you heard, "Hey Moony, do you know where Peter and Sirius are?" You listened to the voice being James as Remus stuttered.

"Uh- they should be out on the field," He took a deep breath, "I think Sirius wanted to try a new move," He said in a small voice.

You cupped his balls in your hand, squeezing them while gagging down on his entire cock.

"Oh, okay," James answered, "Are you okay?" James asked, concerned, “Isn’t Y/N supposed to be studying with you?”

"Yeah, I just am r-really stressed out over this test," Remus answered, “She just went to the bathroom really fast,”

You smiled, doing small licks on his tip as the head of his cock was an angry red color, and you could tell he was close.

James still seemed suspicious, "Okay, I'll see you later, mate, good luck on the books," James laughed before heading out of the library.

You put his length down your throat, and you could feel him spurting into your throat as you swallowed every drop, sucking on the tip for any leftovers.

"Fuck Y/N," Remus sighed as you giggled, sitting back in your chair.

"I really thought you were going to break when James came in," You giggled.

"That was not very nice of you," He laughed back as you began the study with his hand caressing yours.

Two hours passed before you had to head to Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Remus was sad to see you go.

You gave him a light peck on his lips, "I'll see you at potions, yeah?" You said as Remus nodded, going in for a full kiss as you responded with a smile.

You met Remus when you truly needed help with Muggle studies; you were thankful that he was willing to help you and even offered to pull an all-nighter.

And during that all-nighter, he would squeeze on your thigh every time you got an answer right, and you would kiss him on the cheek for helping you.

Eventually, the squeezes on your thigh would turn to something more, and you started kissing somewhere else on him.

You started walking to DADA as you felt an arm grab you into the broom closet; your head hit the back of the closet wall lightly, "What have you been up to?" Sirius asked as you smiled.

"Nothing really; I've been looking for you," You said as he laughed.

"Bullshit," You said, putting his hand around your neck as he kissed your jawline, his other hand groping your boobs, "You wanna say what you've really been doing?" He asked.

"Fucking your two best mates," You responded as you felt him grin.

"Oh really?" He asked, still sucking on your neck.

"Mhm," You hummed, moaning.

"Think you need a punishment," He said, hand squeezing your neck.

You beamed, "You mad at me?" You teased.

"Furious," He said, squeezing your ass as your hands moved to his belt, but he swatted them away.

"Nuh-uh," He said, touching your clit, "No panties? Such a bad girl," He said, rubbing your clit in circles as you moaned loudly, covering your mouth as he moved your hand away, "Let them hear what a dirty slut you are,"

"W-We are going to be late to class," You squeaked as his fingers moved faster.

"You'll be fine," He responded as he unbuckled his belt, stroking himself, kissing your mouth as he lifted your legs around him.

He put his cock inside you as you were sore, and the stretch made your entire body tingle.

He began pumping inside you as your moans progressively got louder, to which he began kissing your mouth to suppress your sounds.

Your nails clawed into his shoulders as he went faster, his tongue inside your mouth.

"Harder," You breathlessly said as Sirius obeyed, going even faster.

"Fuck," You cried as Sirius began going longer with his pumps, signaling he was about to enter you.

You came on him simultaneously as you felt his cum and yours intertwined, dripping. He pulled out of you, tucking himself back in his trousers.

You put your legs back on the ground and felt both of your releases going down your thigh as he searched for a rag, bending down to clean your legs.

"You okay?" He asked, making sure he didn't misunderstand you at all.

"Yes," You grinned, "I'm okay,"

You ran your fingers through his hair as he made sure you were fully clean before he stood up to give you a kiss on your forehead, "I'm just gonna clean up, and then I'll meet you at Potions, okay?" You said as he nodded, kissing you before exiting.

You went to the broom closet, ensuring the hallways were clear before entering the bathroom and providing your makeup was intact.

You and Sirius met at a Gryffindor party where you started grinding on him during your favorite song, and then you guys went back to your dorm, and what was a one-night stand turned into something that was happening continuously.

You left the bathroom to go to Potions, and as you made it there, all of the boys looked at you coming in, smiling on each of their faces as you sent them a wink before you sat next to Mary.

"What have you been up to?" She snickered as you giggled.

"Just playing with the Marauders," You answered before writing in your notebook.

2K notes · View notes

angry-geese · 4 months

Text

The Weight - Sukuna x Reader

Warnings: smut//not osha compliant. arranged marriage au. blood/cannibalism mention. biting/size kink. unprotected sex, creampies. afab reader

synopsis: an arranged marriage au where the reader chooses sukuna instead of one of the men from her village

word count: 10.3k

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts since probably last february and I finally got around to finishing it lol

jjk masterlist

As mid-afternoon turns to dusk, you realize you have nothing to show for your hours in these woods. You know, reasonably, you should cut your losses for the day, and return home. In a little over an hour, it’ll be dark, and navigating these woods will become a challenge. But winter has come and gone with a vengeance, leaving food stores low. The thought of fresh meat is too much for you to quit now.

Fresh tracks mark the once-smooth creek bed. Deer. At least three. They’ve bedded down here, as evident by the smell, and flattened patches of grass. For several meters, the tracks nearly overlap themselves, before heading off in separate directions. It's been years since you’ve traveled this deep into the woods, and those few times were accompanied by your father, or uncle. Your solitude has you jumping at every rustle of a leaf, and snapped twig. It's when the woods fall silent that you need to worry. That means a predator is near. As long as you can hear bugs, or birds, you'll be okay.

Further ahead—maybe twenty yards—is a buck that stopped to drink from the creek.

You knock an arrow, lining the broadhead up with your target. Something feels wrong. The string feels too taut. It slips from your fingers prematurely. The arrow hits just behind the front shoulder, and—in theory—should puncture the heart. A shot like that—in theory—should drop an animal like this where it stands. Today it doesn't. The buck takes off running.

Between the footprints, and little droplets of blood, a clear trail is left behind. When you do finally come upon your prey, the crickets have fallen silent. The buck lays on its side in the grass, chest heaving. You ready your knife to put the poor thing out of its misery when something—someone—emerges from the treeline on the opposite side of the clearing.

Your body is moving before you can fully process the situation. You flatten yourself out on the ground, hiding under the cover of some bushes. If the man does see you, then he makes no note of it. He draws closer, stopping to kneel beside the buck. It’s too dark to make out his face. Something about him has the hair on the back of your neck on end. He hauls the carcass up onto his shoulder, turning to return in the direction in which he came.

The absurdness of it all has you frozen. You blink several times as if to make sure this isn't your mind playing tricks on you. Once reality sets in, you’re back on your feet, chasing after him.

“That's mine!” You say, hoping the volume of your voice is enough to scare off the thief. It isn't.

What you first assume to be another trick of the lighting becomes a horrifying reality as you notice the true size of the man. The man—being, or whatever he is—towers over you, completely dwarfing you in size. Mild annoyance is all that is visible on his face as he turns to you. From the deer, he rips out your arrow, tossing it at your feet. The broadhead has snapped off, as well as the shaft is bent. If you so desire, you suppose you could repair it. Not that you have any wish to. Sometimes it is simply better to cut your losses.

But you have more pressing things to deal with right now.

“And just what do you plan to accomplish, little lamb?” He asks. “A deer like this can weigh as much as a grown man. Do you plan to carry this back all by yourself?”

It’ll be tiring, but not impossible. Gutting and dressing it here would remove a lot of unnecessary weight, but would render plenty of valuable meat and organs useless. All that extra meat and skin could be used better elsewhere…

You are overcome with the urge to run, yet his gaze has your feet firmly planted on the ground. Your eyes fall to a small red splotch on his kimono—a blood stain. It can't be from the deer, it's far too old. It’s not until your knees knock together that you realize you’re trembling.

The action of him moving closer causes a cry of panic to leave you, unintentionally calling out for your father.

“What—who are you?!” You ask as you scramble backwards.

“I am Ryoumen Sukuna, the King of Curses, my dear,” he says. “Now, shall we get this back to your home?”

Fear threatens to overcome you. Even if you could draw an arrow in time, you doubt it would truly hurt him. Yet, in spite of your fear, you know he has no plans to harm you. Once you’re in sight of the village, he sets the deer down, and gestures for you to take the lead.

“Why are you helping me?” You ask. You’re certain the look on your face suggests you still expect him to eat you.

“Why do you ask?” He says. “Maybe I wanted the location of your home. It seems there are plenty of sacrifices here for me.”

“Wait a minute!” You say, eyes widening with fear. A mix of panic and guilt consumes you. “You can't-”

A look resembling amusement crosses his face. “I mean no harm to your village,” Sukuna says, “but in five years, I will return to claim what is mine.”

The strange man would vanish upon reaching the outskirts of your village, and in the nearly five years that follow, you would not once traverse so deep into the woods. On several occasions, you would try to retrace your steps, but would never once come across that clearing. When you would bring it up to your father, or any of the other village elders, your concerns would be brushed off, or outright ignored. Years would pass and slowly, achingly slowly, you would forget about the man in the woods entirely.

The coming spring brings your twenty-eighth birthday, and the looming threat of being an “older” unmarried woman.

If you had any say in the matter, you wouldn't get married at all. Plenty of older women exist, happily unmarried, yet your mother insists that you must find a husband. Any attempts to convince her that you’re fine with the way things are, fail. Once it became clear you weren't going to seek a husband on your own, your mother took upon the task of finding a suitor for you. Over the course of several months, meetings were arranged with various men, and with each rejected one, your mother grew more desperate to find the perfect match.

Your mother insists you're cursed. Your father thinks you’re simply unlucky. When you asked how marriage was supposed to fix that curse, she had no answer for you.

In the months prior to your birthday, your mother proposed a deal to you: meet with another man—the son of a wealthy merchant. That if this meeting went well, even if you didn't marry him, she would stop pestering you about getting married. Tired of her pestering, you relented, and agreed to meet him. And as the days draw closer, you only feel dread towards him.

The outcome of tonight has already been decided by you: failure. Whether your mother knows this or not is hard to tell. Judging her tense nature, you suspect she knows your plans.

“I was already married at your age,” she says, tightening your obi, “I used to have a dress just like this.”

“The difference is, you knew him already,” you say, “and I am meeting a stranger.”

“I am simply doing what I think is best for you,” she says. “This is your chance to get out of this village—to live a better life! Don't you want that?”

Her eyes meet yours in one last pleading glance. It makes you wonder; did she have such a conversation with her mother? Did your grandmother go through such trouble to match her to your father? Or did this come easier to her, than it did to you?

You suppose he’s handsome. The silks he wears are clearly expensive, with threads like woven gold. His features are sharp—what one could describe as noble, but you find him truly dull. But he is scrawny—squishy, with hands that show he has never worked a day in his life. The little conversation he makes is dreadfully boring. His father is an older man, with a graying beard, and sagging eyes. His mother is considerably younger, dressed in blue, with a small scar on her chin. Her silky black hair falls down her back. The little conversation you do have is short, but polite. The typical small talk you would have with a stranger.

Your mother does her best to talk you up. She’s gotten pretty good at that over the past few years. Your father interjects here and there, but it's your mother that does the majority of the talking.

“She’s strong. A talented hunter. Good with a knife.” Your father says. This time, you’re paying attention when he speaks.

Your potential father-in-law seems unimpressed with your father’s attempts to talk you up. Perhaps if you were a son, this conversation would go differently. If you were a son, your mother wouldn't be so stressed about you being married before 30. Your growing irritation mounts when you set down your cutlery, turning to look the old man in his eyes.

“And what about him?” You ask, motioning to his son. “Look at him—how is he supposed to give me a strong child?”

The energy in the room seems to shift entirely. Your father nearly chokes on his wine, but his eyes are firmly trained on your mother. She glares daggers at you, gripping her spoon so tightly that her knuckles turn white.

“What?” You ask. “I am the one getting married. Don't I get a say in this?”

Are you trying to screw this up? Your mother’s face seems to ask.

“A good father controls his daughter,” the man says, “especially one with such a sharp tongue.”

“I can serve this village, or I can control my daughter, but I cannot do both,” your father says, “she’s not a child anymore, she can make her own choices.”

That earns a small smirk from you. Leave it to him to stand up for you.

“That is exactly why this is so grievous,” the man says, “my son will not marry an old maid with an attitude problem!”

“And I will not have in-laws as insufferable as you!” You bring your knife down on the table, narrowly missing his fingers. This little outburst of yours at dinner will certainly have consequences. Your mother’s wrath is only the beginning.

They don't leave in nearly as big of a hurry as you’d expect from a man who was just threatened with a knife, but they do hurry out, making certain not to look back.

“Maybe we should have offered to let them stay,” says your father, “it’s not safe to be out on the road after dark.”

“We’re lucky to not have them send guards after us for that,” your mother says, and for once, you agree with her. “Threatening a man like that is a new low, even for you.”

After such a disastrous dinner, you’re not particularly eager to go find your parents. You linger towards the outskirts of your village for as long as daylight allows you to. Once it grows too dark to stay out, you begin the trek back to your home, praying your parents—or at least your mother—have simply gone to bed. Maybe your father will forgive such a night, but your mother certainly won't. Over the past year you’ve done enough to earn her ire, this will not help your case.

Sitting outside is your mother, her eyes trained on a dying fire. Although she doesn't acknowledge you, you know she’s noticed you. Part of you wonders if you should speak first. Would that even improve your situation, or simply make it worse?

“You win.” She says.

“What?” You ask.

“You win. I told you I’d stop after this, remember?” She asks. “Besides, I stopped liking him after that comment he made about your father.”

You still don't believe it's over. No tone of accusation clings to her voice, yet you can't help being suspicious.

“I don't get it.” You say.

“I just want what's best for you.” She says. “I want you to live a long and happy life. Are you really content to spend the rest of your life in this village? Stuck taking care of your brother and father?”

“That sounds like the preferable outcome,” you say, “compared to having in-laws I can't stand.”

“Where does he get off calling you an old maid anyway?” She says.

A small smile crosses your lips. This is about the best she'll get, and she knows this, a grin crossing her own face. A moment that should be one of triumph—at least for you—seems to be more sorrowful. The older you grow, the further apart you drift from her, and with that comes a strange, aching loneliness. You long for a time in your youth; the days when she would play dolls with you in-between house chores. You miss the tiny clothes she’d sew for them. The furniture made of timber scraps she’d hand paint. Oh how long has it been since she last braided your hair? Or brushed it? Or helped you wash it?

Did she have these same feelings about her own mother? Or was it easy for her? Does she too mourn those moments you used to share?

You don't remember her always looking this old. That’s not to say she isn't beautiful still—age does not nullify beauty. But she looks tired now. The dark circles under her eyes are more prominent than ever. The skin around her eyes crinkles when she laughs, or smiles. Her hair is littered with grays—like little silver threads. She looks like you.

From within the nearly pitch-black woods comes a scream; not that of an animal, but of man. When the scream rings out again, it’s much easier to understand. It’s a cry for help.

Emerging out of the treeline, and following the main road is a man, half hunched over and clutching his stomach. He makes it several yards into the village before collapsing. Enough blood pours from the wound on his side that you can smell it. A metallic taste lingers in the air, stuck to the back of your throat. Blood.

You’re the first to run over, followed shortly behind by your mother. The injured, shambling figure collapses upon the road. It’s only as you draw closer that you recognize him, albeit barely: the man from dinner. His clothes at one point in time were yellow in color, but are now stained a deep brown in color from a mix of dirt and blood.

“We need a doctor over here!” Mother cries out, her voice echoing against the wall of trees.

Someone must hear, because eventually a group of men burst out of a nearby house. They make quick work of rolling him onto his back, granting you a better look at his wounds. Three long slashes across his stomach. From your mother comes a gasp, followed by her clamping her hand over her mouth. The young man succumbs to his wounds before anyone is able to help him. He’s lost too much blood. People don't come back from that.

“Was he stabbed?” One man asks.

“Looks like knife marks,” comments another.

“Not a knife,” the oldest of the three says, “claws.”

“Do you think a mountain lion got to him?” You ask.

The oldest of the men shakes his head. “Cats like that don't get this close to towns. They avoid people if they can. A bear, maybe; if he got in between a mother and cub. But even that seems unlikely…”

This is why you don't go into the woods after dark. This is why you lock your doors and close your shutters tight when the sun sets. Bad things lurk out there, but they are not bears, nor are they mountain lions.

Something about the height of a person bursts from the treeline. Atop the legs of a chicken is a head only humanesque in the way corpses are. Sunken eyes sit atop a shriveled nose, and cracked lips. Its skin seems to be hanging off bone. Still, it takes you a moment to register that it’s fear you feel. Your palms prickle with sweat, the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. The urge to flee is nearly unbearable.

More of these creatures emerge from the direction of the nearly-set sun. They appear to come in all sorts of horrid shapes, and sizes, the smallest being no larger than a bird, and the largest about the size of a cow. Fear threatens to overcome you entirely. At least twenty of the creatures leave the treeline, although you suspect more remain hidden within it. The temperature must drop by ten degrees. It’s as if all the moisture has been sucked from the air. Those who dared leave their homes to look at the source of the commotion have now retreated, locking their doors behind them.

The collar of your dress jerks backwards as your mother struggles to drag you back towards the house. “Get your father!” She says. “Hurry!”

“What about you?!” You ask.

“Just get your father,” she says.

And you do so, running as fast as your feet will take you. The chilly night air renders your fingertips numb, and your face burning. He’s asleep in his chair, and wakes with a gasp as you shake him, motioning frantically to the door. The words that leave you are incoherent, but he must understand your panic. He retrieves his sword, telling you to lock the door behind him. You don't listen. You never listen, you can hear your mother say now. A sudden burst of light draws your attention—a nearby house has caught fire. Those strange, horrid creatures swarm around it like flies. Several neighbors have exited their houses, and begun throwing buckets of water upon the blaze, but the fire is too strong.

And from the treeline emerges that man from the woods all those years ago.

In five years time, he has not aged a day. His cruelly sharp features appear the same within the flicker of the firelight. They fall before him on their hands and knees, heads bowed in fear. You only realize you’re shaking when you move closer to the window, peeking out through the crack in the shutters.

The King of Curses, he called himself, all those years ago.

His mouth moves as if he's speaking, but you can only make out about half of what he says. The ringing in your ears is too loud to make sense of much.

“My offerings lessen, my shrine lies defiled,” he says, “and you humans sit here complacent. I gave you five years to make amends and this is what you do with it?”

You know, logically, that your father is going to die. He is no match for the creatures, let alone that strange man. You must do something. Even if it is beyond logic, or reason, you would not forgive yourself if you did not act.

“Then what is it you require of us?” Asks father, his hands trembling slightly. You can tell it’s more than just the dancing light of the fire. He is truly frightened.

“An offering,” says the King of Curses. “A sacrifice.”

“We have nothing to offer,” says father, “the river has run dry of fish—our crops have withered! We have nothing to offer, we’re starving regardless!”

The King of Curses eyes drift to your hiding place, before landing back on your father. “You said it yourself.” He says. “You’ll starve regardless. What difference does it make that you should give up one of your own? Won't there only be less mouths to feed?”

Your arrows rattle loudly as you pull one from your quiver, knocking it. From this angle, and sitting half crouched on the ground, you can't bring it to a full draw. Not only does that mess with your aim, but alter the power of the shot too. That can be accounted for. You adjust your angle to be a little higher—right above his head. When you release the string, the arrow gives way with a thunk! The shot is dead on; your arrow whistling towards the demon king’s head. He brings his spear up, knocking it aside. Several heads whip back towards you, their faces contorted in a mix of anger, and fear.

You’re not quite sure who grabs you first—it must be more than one person. Several sets of hands are upon you, dragging you from the house. Any attempts to fight it fail on your part, there are simply too many people to kick off. They drop you in the dirt beside your father. You don't dare look at him. You know his eyes are filled with fear.

“We’ll—we’ll put it to a vote,” says one of the elders. “All those in favor of sending this woman as an offering…”

Two other elders raise their hands. Then several of the men. Then, reluctantly, the mother of a neighboring family. Even more hands pop up after that. Although maybe a minute passes, it feels like hours. At least a dozen sets of eyes are on you.

“Out of all of you,” the demon king says, eyes following across the crowd that’s now gathered, “she was the only one of you to fight back, yet you punish such an action?”

Silence is the only response the crowd can conjure up. A groan so loud that the ground rumbles beneath it rings out as the house gives way, collapsing in on itself in a rain of ash and embers.

“Wait!” Your father cries out, “let me go in her place!”

Several more incomprehensible sentence fragments leave him. He pleads and pleads to no avail. The last view you get of your village is of the spirits retreating back into the woods.

It must be hours before your state of shock wears off. Dawn breaks bleak and gray over the horizon. The temple he brings you lies in ruin. You must be one of the first people to set foot in here in years. A cracked foundation gives way to walls overtaken by vines. Dust and ash layers the ground, and every surface imaginable.

Sukuna must not expect you to try to run. Nothing is done to prevent you from escaping. There are no doors to lock. No ropes or cages. The only real barrier of escape is the trek home through miles of woods. Should you wait until sunrise, the trip won't be impossible. It is the fear of what remains for you that prevents you from returning.

Would there even be anything to go back to? Is it even worth it after what they did? They did not hesitate as they offered you as a sacrifice. Whatever happens to them… they have it coming.

Such thoughts do little to comfort you. If anything, they make you feel worse. What little strength you have left goes into stopping the tears that threaten to spill down your cheeks. You manage. Barely.

Unable to find it within you to do anything else, you sit. Only a thin, woven mat separates you and the hard floor. Footsteps draw closer down the hall, the noise only amplified by the high ceilings of the temple.

Uraume. That’s what Sukuna called them. A strange being that looks human, but appears to be more than such. They enter the room, a shock a white hair visible before the rest of them is. They wear the kimono of an unmarried woman, in vibrant shades of orange, blues, and pinks woven in the pattern of flowers. Hooked around one arm is a pail of water. Under the other arm is a roll of cloth. Contained within the cloth is a mix of hygiene supplies; a sponge, comb, various vials of oils and creams.

Uraume treats you like one would treat a frightened animal. They kneel on the ground before you, leaving about the distance of a foot. When you don't flinch, or shy away, they move closer.

“You’re covered in ash,” they say, “let me help.”

With the sponge, they dab away the bits of dirt and ash that have caked to your skin. Human contact like this should, in theory, be intimate, but in this situation it feels like anything but that. Uraume’s touch feels cold, and clinical. With them comes a strange, uncanny feeling, like you are not looking into the eyes of a human, but of a corpse. The reason behind their kindness is a mystery to you. It feels wrong to question them, but you can't help but think there is something sinister behind their actions. Their casualness suggests this isn't the first time they’ve done this. That thought does nothing to comfort you, so you quickly push it aside.

Next, they move on to your neck, then down to the exposed bits of your chest, and shoulders.

“Such a beautiful dress,” they comment. You reply weakly, saying it belonged to your mother. Their response to that is little more than a hum.

They take your hands, scrubbing the dirt from under your nails with a small brush. After that, a comb is worked through your hair, taking great care to not pull on any knots that have formed. Once they can work their hands through your hair with no resistance, they stop.

Uraume leans back to examine their work, deeming you presentable. Gathering what they brought with them, they make their way towards the door, turning back once to say: “I’ll bring something to eat.”

The events of the night have left you without an appetite. You probably should eat something. It’ll be important to keep your energy up. The little adrenaline left within you has you jumping at any small noise, or shadow. Sleep feels like an impossibility right now.

About ten minutes pass before Uraume returns carrying a platter. Tea, pickled vegetables, a hunk of bread, a bowl of some kind of stew. It smells quite good, but you merely pick at it. Like your hesitation to sleep, you can hardly eat. Uraume sits with you, picking at their own food, but never finishing it. A million questions race through your mind, although you can barely bring yourself to ask them.

Would they even answer you? Or does this have a more sinister plan behind it?

Finally, you find enough of your voice to ask: “Where is…?”

“I’ve prepared a bath for master Sukuna,” they say, “he’ll be joining us shortly.”

Your attention turns back to the bowl in your hands, which soon slips through your fingers, breaking upon the floor. What little appetite you had is soured entirely. This is it. You’re nearly certain you’re going to die here.

Your attempt to clean up the mess is stopped by Uraume. They insist upon cleaning it themselves, taking great care not to cut their hands on the shards.

“Why are you helping me?” You ask, shocked at how small your voice sounds.

“Master Sukuna likes to play with his food before he eats it,” they say.

Uraume leaves shortly after, taking the leftover dishes with them. You remain seated, eyes moving between the two exits of the room. One takes you to the entrance of the temple; you’re not certain where the other leads. The first is almost guaranteed to be guarded, though. Trying to run now is a bad idea. But when will you get another chance?

You will not sit idly by as death draws closer. Like the previous night, you feel as if you must do something. It was your own foolish actions that got you into this mess, says a small voice in the back of your head.

Trapped under your heel is a small pottery shard, left over from the shattered bowl. It’s small enough to conceal in your palm. Sharp. Better for stabbing than it is slashing, but it will be good enough at either. Once Sukuna returns, you’ll get your chance.

The rush of adrenaline has started to wear off now, rendering your arms weak, and your legs shaky. If you were to sit down now, you’re certain it would be a while before you get back up. It is the body fighting itself; fight or flight mode mixing with exhaustion. If you do not stop and rest, your body will give out on you eventually.

So you stand there and pace, clutching your shard of pottery close. Maybe thirty minutes pass in the time it takes Sukuna to enter, but it feels like hours. Adrenaline turns into fatigue.

Tears burn at your eyes again, but you’re able to blink them back. A mix of shock and betrayal has left you nothing short of exhausted. Sukuna’s towering stature only helps to make you feel like a lamb about to be devoured by a wolf.

“I trust Uraume has been of assistance,” Sukuna says.

Unsure of how to respond, you simply nod.

“What now?” You ask. “Is this the part where you’re supposed to eat me?”

That earns a laugh from him, although it’s strange sounding, as if the very action is foreign to him.

“Many decades ago, the people of your village—among others—would hold a festival during harvest season,” he says, “it was meant as a sign of peace. An offering in return to not raze their homes,

“The people of your village have grown laze, and complacent. They have forgotten their place as humans, and needed to be reminded of it. You are simply another offering. Something to tide me over.”

Sukuna draws close enough for you to feel his breath across the back of your neck. You shudder. Adrenaline courses through you once again.

This is it, you think, you are going to die.

In one last attempt to preserve your dignity, you aim for his jugular, and swing the shard of pottery towards it. A hand wraps around your wrist before it can make contact. A second set of arms are trapping you against his body before you can even register it. His breath is warm against your cheek, teeth inhumanly sharp in the dim light.

“You are entertainment.” He says.

That same set of sharp teeth drag up your neck. Some sick sense of pleasure runs up your spine at the feeling: being a little lamb in the jaws of a predator. It would take so little effort from him to render you lifeless that it’s almost comical. Adrenaline turns to delirium in your mind.

What happens if he finally grows bored of you? It’s not a matter of “if” in this case, it’s a matter of “when”. You have an idea of what will happen once he does.

You don't hear him leave, so much as you notice his lack of presence.

Sukuna is gone for most of the following day. In that time, you explore much of the temple in an attempt to gain your bearings. It’s sparsely furnished, and dilapidated for the most part, but there are some signs of life. On a lower level of the temple is a bedroom, where the bed alone is as big as a room in your home. Must be Sukuna’s. Another, smaller room appears to be Uraume’s quarters. A small kitchen branches off the hallway not far from this.

The later half of the day is spent trying to familiarize yourself with your surroundings. Thick woods surround the structure, spreading out for what must be miles. To the North is a creek. If you followed it, you might possibly meet up with the river by your village. Whether you could do so before nightfall is another question entirely. Finding yourself stuck in unfamiliar woods past dark may prove to be a death sentence.

Even if you could go back, would you want to? Their lack of hesitation towards sacrificing you still rings clear in your mind.

Sleep seems to be the best way to pass the time. There isn't much else to do around here. In the hours before dusk, you manage to drag yourself out of bed, and into the woods that surround the temple. You justify it by saying that fresh air will do you good, not that anyone asks you. The only person around to do so would be Uraume, though you don't see much of them.

Heavy fog settles upon the trees, causing the day to take on a quiet, sleepy nature. Little cream-colored mushrooms pop up through the layer of moss and dead leaves that blanket the forest floor. Carved out over years of use is a dirt path, barely wide enough for a person to walk through. Following it for about ten minutes brings you to a pond. At one end, the start of a small creek leads downhill. Little fish are visible just under the surface. Leaving your socks and shoes at the shore, you wade out into the water. It’s cool, but not chilly. The mud feels soft underneath your feet. Being outside helps settle your nerves a bit. Outright terror is replaced with uneasiness now. While not entirely better, it’s an improvement to your previous mood.

From the treeline opposite of the path you took, a figure enters the clearing. Sukuna. Adrenaline spikes through your body at the sight of him. Your pulse quickens, and fear prickles in your palms. Every cell of your being is telling you to run.

Sukuna motions with his hand for you to follow him. It is not an offer, so much as it’s a command. Following a short walk on a stoney path, you find yourself overlooking a rock cliff-face, and a small wood hut. Scattered about are several steaming pools, which bubble up from the ground, layering upon the cliff-face like stairs.

Sukuna undressed at the wood hut, leaving his clothes hanging upon the rafters. Your gaze remains firmly on the ground. You should not be seeing him like this. This feels far too intimate. You try not to let your gaze linger too long, but can't help it. The sight of his back alone is hard to tear your eyes away from; the muscles, the tattoos, the curve of his spine. There is a strange, supernatural beauty to him. You eye him with caution, yet curiosity.

Why has he brought you here? What does he want? Is this simply a ritual before he eats you?

Certainly, if you were to scream, no one would be nearby to hear you.

It strikes you just how easily his teeth could tear through your jugular. How his sharp nails could shred your flesh to ribbons. Sukuna is far faster and stronger than you, outrunning him is not an option.

Following his lead, you undress, and leave your clothes folded neatly upon a rock. Next comes the task of taking down your hair, and combing through it with your fingers, finding it still knot-free from the events of the previous night. Only then do you approach the largest of the three pools, and wade into it. At its deepest, it's a little above your waist. You could walk all the way across and never once have your feet leave the ground.

You settle upon a rock towards the edge, half submerged in the pool. The hot water feels nice upon your sore muscles. Your eyes trail ribbons of steam as they curl off the water. A wave of self consciousness rolls over you. You sink further into the water, crossing your arms in front of your chest. It’s up to your chin now. Sometime during this, it starts raining. The droplets leave little ripples across the surface of the water. Fall brings the smell of damp earth, and decaying leaves with it. Something that should be comforting only makes your stomach turn.

“You look frightened, little lamb,” Sukuna says.

Is it so obvious?

“I still don't believe this isn't some attempt to eat me.” You ask, though you’re not certain you want the answer.

“Had I wanted to eat you, I would have had Uraume make preparations.” He says.

You still don't believe him. How many people met their fate at his hands before you? There is no reason why you would be lucky—why you would escape your fate.

“Then what is it you want from me?” You ask.

His expression softens, shoulders lowering with a sigh. The space between his eyebrows is not so harshly creased anymore.

“I am not like the typical curses you have met,” Sukuna says, “I require your permission.”

“Permission for what?” You shrink back as he draws closer, stopping mere inches from you. He’d tower over the tallest man, let alone someone like you.

A kiss. Hungry, and overbearing, but a kiss nonetheless. Sukuna has to lean down, and you have to crane your neck up to complete the action. His movements feel stiff, clinical, as if he hasn't done this many times before. The action causes warmth to bloom in your chest, and spread out to your limbs. The hands that cup your face are nearly large enough to encompass it entirely. He tastes like wine, and something vaguely metallic. The thought that it might be blood crosses your mind for only a moment. You’d much rather think about other things.

“Will you devote yourself to me, completely and entirely?” He asks.

Funny, you think, had a human man asked you the same thing, you would have laughed in his face. Yet you find yourself bewitched by the King of Curses. Curious, and cautious all the same. This is not a feeling of love. It is something else entirely. You are a sacrifice, you remind yourself, this is the fate of a sacrifice.

“I devote myself to no man,” you say, “I don't see how you'd be any different.”

He hums in amusement, circling around you in the water. He stops behind you, slightly to your right. Sharp teeth graze across your shoulder. Large hands trace their way up your hips, then your body, coming to rest just below your breasts. You squeeze your thighs together in an attempt to relieve the strange pressure that has built up. Your heart rate picks up in pace. Sukuna must be able to sense this. A low laugh leaves him as he pulls away.

“Well then,” he says, “do I have your permission to continue?”

Continue what? You wish to ask. As if against your mind’s wishes, your head moves in a nod. “Yes,” you say.

You can only imagine the look on his face as you have your back to him. He’s close enough you can feel the warmth radiate off his body. Is he pleased? Amused? Smug that all it took was a kiss to make you let your guard down?

Hands that should be calloused and rough are quite gentle with their touch. One comes to rest upon your hip, before trailing down to the space between your thighs. Seconds in and your knees seem to give out, your body supported only by him. One finger presses into you, then a second. You sigh at the intrusion. There’s little resistance as he presses into you. You’re too wet. Sukuna’s fingers are much larger than your own, though the stretch you feel is pleasant, not painful. Your thighs squeeze around his hand, drawing a low laugh from him. You can feel it rumble within his chest, which your back is pressed flush to.

Being so close to another being feels odd. The only intimacy you know is a platonic one. A familial one. This is different. Stronger. More intense. He finds the spot that makes you squirm and abuses it, toying with you like prey. It must be a game to him, you think, like cat and mouse. With one of your hands over your mouth, you try to muffle the lewd noises that spill from you. It’s a losing battle. All sorts of pleased sounding noises—from both you and him—echo through the clearing. Secretly, you’re glad this place is so remote. Should someone hear the lewd noises you’re making, you wouldn't recover from the embarrassment. He brings you just to the edge, but refuses to let you cross over. Frustration turns to desperation as you grind against him, chasing your own release. Sukuna doesn't appear opposed to your actions. He lets you work yourself up to—and through—your own release, the noises you make growing gradually more obscene until they come to a head in the form of an orgasm.

You remain in the water for a while afterwards. The layer of fog overhead makes the day take on a lazy, sleepy nature. His hands comb through your hair as you lay against his chest. Such a moment feels uncharacteristically tender for him. While you expect them to be sharp, his nails feel nice against your skin. The mouth on his stomach resembles a smirk, although the expression on his face is flat. Unreadable. A slight pang of disappointment shoots through you. You know it’s unreasonable of you to expect humanity from someone inherently inhuman. He does not—he can not—process things the way you do. Humans must appear so small and fragile to him.

You’re uncertain of how much time passes as you lay there, your limbs tangled with his. It doesn't feel like long enough. No time would feel long enough. You crave the touch of another being whether you want to admit that or not.

“It’s getting late,” he comments. Without another word, you watch as Sukuna dresses himself, and leaves.

You follow him as quickly as you can. You’re not quite fast enough, arriving back at the temple long after him. Dusk follows soon after.

You find no sign of the King of Curses upon your return. Finding yourself with not much of an appetite, you head straight to bed. Uraume stops by once to offer tea, but you decline, insisting you’re tired, and just wish to sleep. Whether or not they believe you, you can't tell. That’s about the extent of every conversation you have; polite, but short.

Sukuna must not need to sleep. Not in the same way you do. You dress down into your underclothes, leaving the rest folded neatly upon a chair. They’re not dirty, just slightly wrinkled from the events of today. You crawl into the bed much larger than you, and attempt to sleep. When he crawls into the bed beside you, you do nothing to protest.

As time passes, you grow used to his presence. Falling into a routine takes mere days. In that time, you don't see much of Sukuna, or Uraume. Maybe it’s for the best. You’re not certain what you’d say to either of them. You figure it best not to question what Sukuna gets up to in his free time. If the events at your village are anything similar, you figure it best to pay them no mind.

The longer you spend here, the more curious you find yourself. At least twice you find your way back to the hot springs. Familiarizing yourself with the surrounding woods has you growing more confident when navigating it. Animal tracks and trails reveal themselves, bringing more life to the woods.

Fall turns to winter. Rain gives way to snow, bringing in a bitter stormfront. It’s hard to tell how many days pass as the storm hits, rendering the three of you confined to the temple. Sukuna doesn't appear bothered at all by the cold, but you spend many bleak nights huddled by a fire. Sukuna approaches you on one of these nights; perhaps the bleakest and darkest one before the storm finally breaks. Your inability to leave the temple has you ready to claw out of your own skin. Never were you one to stay in one place very long.

Days have passed and you haven't spoken much to one another. Not since the day at the hot springs. You find yourself especially longing for them on a day like this, where the cold makes your joints ache, and your lips cracked. Winter is among your least favorite of the seasons. A hot and sticky summer day was always preferred over a day like this. Sukuna must sense it. He finds you curled by the fire, wrapped in an assortment of quilts and fabrics. You can't tell if it’s morning, or evening. Snow has rendered midday as dark as dusk.

You know you should get up, and toss more wood onto the fire. Should you let it die any further, it’s unlikely you’ll get it started again. Sukuna joins you in the room, sitting on the mat to your left. Finding yourself searching for warmth, you move closer to him. It’s an unconscious action at first. Once you recognize it, you can't find the willpower within you to stop.

You offer the edge of the blanket to him, basking in his warmth as the quilt is wrapped around both of you. One of his hands comes to rest upon your knee. Your gaze is trained on his face, while his remains on the dying fire.

“I don't suppose you do this to every sacrifice you get,” you say, not expecting an answer.

The corners of his lips twitch into something that resembles a smile. Much life his laugh, his smile is stiff, and rather foreign feeling. Like he hasn't done such a thing in centuries.

“You are different from the sacrifices I have received in the past.” He says.

You get the impression he is still figuring out what to do with you. Such a thought doesn't inspire confidence on your part, though you assume your situation could be worse.

You're nearly in his lap now. The hand on your knee soon moves upwards onto your thigh. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch as he palms himself through his clothes. Some sick part of you wishes to taunt him. To tease him in the same way he has done to you. You part your legs just enough to encourage him. There must be something wrong with you, you think, no normal woman would enjoy the company of the King of Curses.

This is not your typical virgin sacrifice. It is little more than that. Pleasure for the sake of pleasure. To fuck without the intent to procreate.

“I always assumed you wouldn’t have these… urges.” You say.

“Many things lost their potency,” he says. “Food was never enough to satiate, drink was never enough to quench thirst. Sex has remained the same. Primal pleasure never loses its potency.”

So he was human. At least at one point in time…

“Like I said,” he hums, “I am not like the typical curses you have met. I require your permission.”

“You have it,” you say.

Oh how dearly you wish to recreate the event at the hot springs. To feel the same build-up of emotions, and the following release. Such mindless pleasure has remained in your head, unable to be stifled by your own hands.

Off comes your kimono, guided down your shoulders by his hand. Your nipples stiffen when exposed to the open air. It is not the cold that has you shivering, but the expectation of what’s to come. His size, and calloused hands suggest his touch would be harsh, but you find to be the opposite. Sharp nails graze down your sides as he moves to kneel before you. You prop yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at him.

His own clothes are left among the growing pile on the floor. He pumps his stiffening cock in his hand, the head of which weeps across his palm. A different kind of heat blooms in your stomach.

Sharp teeth graze across your jaw, down your neck, before eventually nipping at your shoulder. A sting both painful and pleasurable radiates from the bite. Blood beads from the two points where he managed to break the skin, quickly lapped away by him. Part of your brain is telling you to push him away. The other part is telling you to expose your neck further. You’re not certain which to listen to as you lay under him, caged within his arms. Your breaths grow ragged, turning into quiet moans as his knee nudges your legs apart. This is different from the day at the hot springs. Sukuna is seeking something more—he is seeking his own pleasure this time.

A hand finds its way into your hair, gently tugging at it. Guided by his hand, you expose your neck further to him. He laps at the droplets of blood that form, sucking dark marks into the skin of your neck. Pain and pleasure overlap in your mind. Your thighs are a mess of your own slick, and the precum that leaks from the heads of his two cocks. It’s almost comical how you work yourself up in knots at only the slightest provocation by him.

You taste yourself on him as he kisses you. The bleeding from your neck has mostly stopped now. What remains will barely leave a scar. His lips trail down your neck, through the valley between your breasts, and down your stomach, before eventually stopping just shy of your cunt. The look of him alone has you growing as wet as a virgin; his hair disheveled from your hands running through it, the muscles in his shoulders appear more prominent now. His arms hook around your thighs, although he doesn't need to bother holding your legs open. You’d do it without prompt by him. Eager for your own release, and worked up into a soaked mess, you’d do anything to please him.

You shouldn't be enjoying it as much as you are. You know you should be afraid. It would take no effort from him at all to tear through your femoral artery, and let you bleed out. You would be helpless in the matter anyway; you’re nothing more than a little lamb trapped under a big bad wolf.

The feeling of his tongue is strange. With him on his knees, bowed in what resembles worship, has your stomach in knots. The lewdness of it all has you more worked up than anything else. A strange, pleasurable tension builds within you. He is not toying with you this time, but working you over. When you do finally cum, you cum hard, riding out your high on his face. The noises he’s making suggest he’s enjoying this almost more than you do.

He must be painfully hard now. The head of his cock is an angry shade of red, and leaking precum. Using his hand to guide him, the head of his cock presses into you. You’re too wet from his previous actions to notice much of a stretch. What little pain there is crosses over with pleasure in your mind. He groans as he sheathes himself within you fully. His expression softens just enough for you to take in the features of his face. He’s quite handsome now that you’re close enough to appreciate his looks. It makes you wonder what his life as a human was like. Was he royalty, or a commoner? What was his job? Did he ever have family?

You won't get an answer out of him no matter how hard you try. This is the most human the king of curses will ever appear.

His thrusts are slow at first. Lazy. More like grinding, not proper fucking. With as sensitive as you still are, this doesn't make much of a difference. You’re still a writhing, moaning mess beneath him. Judging by the noises he’s making, he’s not far from cumming himself. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, and that seems to only encourage him. The muscles in his arms and shoulders gradually grow more tense before he shudders, then visibly relaxes. A warm sensation in your cunt follows soon after; he’s cum inside of you.

You lay like that for a while: limbs entwined, bodies curled around each other. He lets himself soften inside of you until the desire to pull out hits. You can tell your hips will be sore in the morning—whenever it decides to come. What little of his seed spills out of you is forced back in by his fingers. You assume it ties into his possessive nature. It must be a way of marking you as his. The fire has long since died out, though you find the warmth from his body adequate enough.

“I don't think I can walk,” you lie, “carry me?”

Sukuna feigns annoyance, but relents, carrying you to the bed too large for any human. You quickly find your way under the covers. He finds himself in the space beside you. Fatigue hits you soon after, yet you find yourself unable to sleep.

“You were human once?” You ask.

The mood in the room seems to shift entirely. Sukuna is not one for conversation. You expected no different from a man like him. He looks at you with mild annoyance, as if deciding on his answer.

“I was. Once.” He says.

Your fingers trace across the tattoos on his wrist. “Do you miss it?” You ask. “Being human, I mean.”

“I am far stronger now than I was when I was a human.” He says. “I no longer need to eat, nor drink. I have the gift of eternal life so long as I am smart with my actions. I do not miss the fragility that comes with humanity.”

His words almost irritate you. So much more exists to humanity than what he says, from little things like sharing a summer even with a friend, tearing into ripe persimmons. Spending an evening hunched over a stew pot helping your mother. Kisses shared between a lover in the woods, or out in the fields. Stories exchanged by firelight. Intricately woven fabrics and paintings that might as well be indistinguishable from real life. So many beautiful things exist within humanity. Maybe he’s been away from it so long he’s forgotten the extent of it.

Would the King of Curses even admit he’s lonely? Or would he be too prideful to admit such a thing?

“You're sad. Why?” He questions.

“Was just thinking about my mother. That's all.” You say. “She wanted me to get married before I…”

You’re mad at her. More mad than you’ve been at anyone in your life. Yet you wish for nothing more than her comfort in this moment. A wound exists that time won't heal. Anger is not productive in fixing it. Anger only makes it worse.

This time, you are the one to initiate the kiss. You wish for it to distract you, but it only amplifies the ache in your chest.

“If you were to lose what little fight you had left in you, then this would no longer be fun,” he says.

You grow used to the ever-present shadow that is Sukuna, talking to the space beside you as if he is there because hell, sometimes he is. He is more than a mere man. He exists on a level different from you or anyone else. Your existence at this temple feels less like confinement and more like living.

“Will you join me?” He asks one day by the river.

The two of you sit upon the riverbank, watching as the water swirls below you. Spring snowmelt, combined with a recent storm, has stirred up the river bottom, turning the water murky. What was meant to be a fishing trip has proved unsuccessful.

“I would be lying if I said I haven't grown used to your presence.” He says.

“Don't be getting soft on me,” you say, half joking.

The most emotion you get out of him is an amused sounding huff.

“I want you to join me,” he says, “not in life as human, but in eternity as a curse.”

“I will,” you say.

No thought is needed for your answer, nor is there any hesitation on your part. Sukuna simply nods. That is what love is to him. Devotion. Worship. Throwing away your humanity means nothing if humanity is so quick to reject you.

Gifts begin appearing around the temple after that. Priceless jewelry, and expensive dresses. Hair pins and cosmetics. Seasons pass in what feels like no time at all. Before you know it, your third fall here is quickly approaching. Winter comes and goes—uncharacteristically bitter this year. Spring brings a sense of rebirth. The ground thaws slowly, and plant life is in full bloom. Animal life returns to the surrounding woods, showing signs in every trail around the temple.

A hunting trip brings you further out into the woods than you’ve traveled before. You don't realize you’re nearing a human settlement until you’ve stumbled upon it.

The village has changed drastically in the time you were gone, so much so that you almost don't recognize it. A full blown mill has sprouted up along the river. At least twice as many houses stand now. Years ago this street was little more than a dirt path. Sometime over the years it has been paved over with river stones. Children play in the streets. Men walk home with pails of fish slung over their shoulders. These strangers notice you and pause, returning to their homes quickly.

Your house remains mostly the same. Age has not been kind to it. One corner of the roof sags, and the wood trim has grown bleached with time. The path up to the front steps is overgrown. Sitting outside, hunched over a wash bin, is your mother.

Her hair is mostly gray now. Wrinkles mark her skin, and her joints are knobby, but you would still consider her beautiful. The face of the woman she once was is still there. The clothes she wears are of rich fabrics, suggesting your family has not hurt for money. Her sturdy figure suggests they never lacked food either.

When she sees you, her eyes grow wet with tears. And it’s as if the weight of the world has lifted off your shoulders. You want to be angry at her. You want to unload years of anger upon her. You want her to feel just a fraction of the fear you've felt. But you can't bring yourself to do it. The look in her eyes tells you she’s felt all the emotions you have.

Her movements are laced with hesitation, as if she’s deciding whether or not you're real. One of her wrinkled hands takes yours.

“I love you,” she says, “and I am so sorry.”

“I know,” you say.

She invites you in for tea, setting the table up with the nice dishware—the kind she only uses for guests. The interior of the house hasn't changed much. Your room is eerily the same, as if it hasn't been touched since the day you left. Your father’s boots, and hunting coat remain by the door, although they look as if they haven't been moved in years. Makes sense, you think, hunting is a task that grows difficult as you get older. There comes a time in every hunter’s life where they grow old, and it becomes their turn to stay home and tend the fire.

“Where's…?” You never get the chance to finish your question, the solemn look on your mother’s face is enough of an answer.

“He passed,” she says, pausing to think, “two springs ago now? Maybe three.”

Believing you would never see them again, you grieved your parents long ago.This particular grief is like an old wound to you.

“The village looks prosperous,” you comment. A bitter tone clings to your voice.

“Yes,” she says, “the past years have been kind to us. I suppose we have you to thank for that?”

She sits across from you, her eyes still wet with tears. It feels like you are holding a conversation with a stranger. Your mother regards you with a certain weariness she only reserves for strangers. Maybe it would hurt more if you had more room within you for grief.

“He never stopped looking for you, you know,” she says, setting a cup of tea in front of you. “Even after the village held a funeral for you. He never wanted to believe it. Until the day he died, he was out in the woods thinking he could bring you home.”

“I was under the impression I wasn't wanted here.” You say.

“You know that’s not true,” she says. “What happened that night was a result of fear. The elders did what they thought would preserve the safety of everyone.”

“Except for me.” You say.

Fear. Right. To them, you were simply a sacrifice. You drain the last of your tea, standing from the table. Your mother stands as if to stop you, but freezes before she can.

“Does he treat you well?” She asks.

“Yes,” you say.

“Better than any human man?”

“Yes,” you answer, although you can tell she doesn't believe it.

“Do you love him?” She asks. “Does he love you?”

“I suppose so.” You say. “As much as he is capable of loving something.”

“But do you love him?” She asks again.

“As much as I am capable of doing so, yes.” You answer.

It is not the answer she wants, but the one that is the truth. With her hands folded in her lap, she nods solemnly.

That following night you leave your village not as a human, but as a curse.

Enough time would pass that the story of a young sacrifice would be forgotten by its people; what would remain, is a tale of a love so infamous that it survived centuries.

#jjk x reader #sukuna x reader #ryoumen sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader smut #not osha compliant #jjk #my writing

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leviscrybaby · 1 year

Text

The Demon Brothers finding MC asleep in various places around the House of Lamentations and moving them to bed.

I feel like you can 100% tell who my favourite brother is here (if my url doesn't give it away lol)... sorry if it's a little repetitive.

Lucifer

The last thing Lucifer expected when he walked into his study was to find you, curled up on one of the chairs by the fireplace, fast asleep. You were still in your RAD uniform, and were it not for the serene look on your face, he’d be worried about it creasing.

You’d been having a rough time of things lately, there were one or two subjects you were struggling with, but somehow you were keeping on top of things at RAD. Your homework was always submitted on time and your grades, while not stellar by a demon's standards, were still very good, considering you’d never studied these subjects before.

You must have been exhausted.

Still, it was hardly appropriate, nor could it possibly be good for your body to sleep here, all scrunched up in that chair. He should wake you and send you off to bed, but your sleeping face was so sweet, he just couldn’t find it in him to disturb you.

Instead, he crouched down in front of you, gently tucking his arms around your shoulders and behind your knees and lifting you up.

What he should have done, was carry you to your own room. But, his was so much closer, he reasoned, and with the pile of papers on his desk, it’s not like he was going to be using his bed any time soon. And, even if it was just to himself, he had to admit, the thought of you spending the night in his bed filled him with a comfortable warmth, regardless of whether or not he was there to hold you as you slept.

With his mind made up, he carried you into his room, pushing back the covers with his foot before placing you ever so gently upon the mattress, and covering your sleeping form. He gave your head a few soft strokes, before leaning down and pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Sleep well, my love.”

Mammon

Mammon was so used to waltzing into the common room and vaulting the couch before dropping himself onto it without needing to check for sleeping humans, that he very nearly landed right on top of you. Sure, he might have to be vigilant of a sleeping Belphie, but if his brother didn’t want to be sat on, maybe he shouldn’t sleep on the couches in the common room. You, on the other hand, he was a little more worried about crushing.

“What’cha think you’re doing, sleeping here?” he grumbled at you, folding his arms as he plopped down on the opposite couch.

You, being asleep, didn’t answer him, opting instead to groan and turn over, facing the back of the couch.

“Oi, don’t ignore me!” Mammon snapped, his voice raised just slightly. He frowned when you gave another disgruntled groan, curling in on yourself.

He should wake you. Shouldn’t he? Sleeping there couldn’t be good for you, even with the fireplace lit it wasn’t exactly the warmest room in the house, you might catch a chill, and then what would happen? Humans are so weak, after all. Can’t they die from being cold?

But you looked so peaceful, and he didn’t want to risk upsetting you by shaking you awake.

Okay, maybe he didn’t want to wake you. I mean, you were tired enough to fall asleep in the common room, so it would just be rude to wake you, wouldn’t it? Besides, you looked happy and comfortable, and waking you would just bother you, and maybe you wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep, then you’d just complain about it to him, and that’s too much hassle right now.

But he definitely couldn’t leave you here where anyone could just wander in and see your adorable sleeping face. Err, I mean, anyone could just wander in and disrupt your nap.

Maybe he should just take you to your room? It’s the best place for you right now, after all. Ah, but any moment now, he could almost guarantee one of his brothers would be around to demand your attention. You were too tired to deal with that.

Then, it was decided, he’d take you somewhere where you’d be able to get some decent sleep. That place being, of course, his room. It’s not possessiveness, he just knows that no ones likely to bother you there!

Lifting you into his arms with your own arms over his shoulders, he manoeuvred his way through the halls, taking special care to avoid anyone he may encounter. Once he reached his room, he faced the real challenge. Those damn stairs. Honestly, he’d always thought having stairs down into his room was pretty sick, and never factored in the possibility of having to carry an unconscious human down them.

He took careful steps, keeping you clutched close as he very slowly descended into his room. It took longer than he’d have ideally liked, but eventually, he had his feet on the floor of his room and he could lower you onto his bed, expecting you to relax against the soft mattress, which you did. What he didn’t expect, is that you wouldn’t let him go!

Now he was stuck, hovering awkwardly above you with your arms holding him in place. Shit, this was gonna look really bad if you woke up.

As gently as he could so as not to wake you, he began trying to pry your arms off him, eventually managing to de-tangle himself from you with a sigh. “You’re gonna be the death of me, y’know,” he grumbled, gently brushing your hair out of your face with a fond smile.

“G’night, ya nightmare.”

Leviathan

“I’m home,” called Levi, tightly clutching an Anidaemon bag to his chest as the front doors closed behind him. Honestly, he was glad in-store only releases were getting rarer. Going out was too much of a hassle, people were too loud and it was impossible to talk to anyone without ending up a stuttering mess. Still, he had to keep telling himself it was worth it for Ruri-chan.

He moved into the house, ready to put the day behind him, when he spotted you, stretched out on the couch that sat in the entry hall, sleeping soundly. What were you doing there? Why was there a couch in the entry hall anyway? Who sits in the entry hall?

Now, Levi was faced with a dilemma. On the one hand, he wanted to be your dependable senpai, and part of that was taking good care of his cute kohai and putting them to bed when they fell asleep in the entry hall like a dork. On the other hand, his mind was screaming no, don’t touch them, leave them alone, that's creepy!

Although, he only wanted to help. I mean, surely it can’t be good for you to sleep here? It’s pretty breezy, and there’s probably people coming back and forth a lot, so you can’t be getting any level of quality sleep. You’d understand him wanting to help, right? You wouldn’t hate him for moving you? For picking you up?

The obvious answer was just to wake you up so you could walk to bed yourself, but just as he lay a hand on your shoulder, he hesitated. No. He couldn’t do that. Just look at you, looking so cosy despite the draft from the door. You just looked too cute, he couldn’t wake you.

So, he was back to square one. It looked like the only option he had was to move you himself.

You wouldn’t be mad, would you? It’s not like he’s moving you for some weird or gross reason, he just wants you to be comfortable and safe, and the entry hall is not the place to accomplish that. He’d just have to move you to your room.

Yup, he’d just have to pick you up, and move you… Just have to pick you up…

Nope, couldn’t do it! He couldn’t just… I mean, it’s weird, right? Even with the best of intentions, just picking you up like that… He’d have to touch you, and you’d probably hate that, wouldn’t you? And what if he dropped you, or bumped you against something, or someone saw him carrying you and assumed… Ugh, no, it couldn’t be done! You’d just have to stay there. Sorry.

But… it did get awfully chilly in the entryway, and humans got sick so easily, it was cruel to just leave you there… Or, maybe he could get you a blanket or something?

No, no, no. Then, you’d be covered and warm, but you’d still be in the entry hall, where anyone could disturb you. The only option he had left was to… to pick you up and… and move you…

Mustering all his courage, Levi hung his Anidaemon bag on his arm, moving it up into the crook of his elbow, before crouching down. Okay… he was really gonna do this… and you can’t be mad at him…

Slowly, he eased his arms under your sleeping body and gently lifted you, holding most of your weight against his chest. “Ohhh, don’t drop them, don’t drop them, don’t drop them,” he muttered, clutching you as tightly as he could. Honestly, if his muttering didn’t wake you, his shaking might.

Now, he just needed to move you as carefully and as quickly as possible…

He did, very briefly, think about taking you to his room so you could get some more sleep – no one would look for you in his room, after all – but quickly quashed that idea. Absolutely not! He felt creepy enough moving you at all, he wasn’t about to hide you away in his bedroom like some creepy yandere.

Levi shook his head with a frustrated groan, and started towards your room. When he arrived, he struggled with the door for a while before finally managing to get it open and hurrying inside, kicking it closed behind him.

As gently and as quickly as he could, he placed you on the unmade bed and pulled the covers over you.

With a soft sigh, you stirred, stretching your body before curling yourself into the downy bed.

Levi smiled, watching as that sweet, peaceful look settled on your face. Would you be mad if he… No, he couldn’t! No matter how much he wanted to kiss you right now, he physically couldn’t. It was just too much. Besides, did he really want you to be asleep the first time he did that? No, instead, he settled for gently brushing his thumb over your cheek.

“Sweet dreams, Henry.”

Satan

It wasn’t the first time Satan has found you asleep in the library, nor did he suspect it would be the last. He had to admit, it always made him feel a little warmer inside to see you curled up with a book on your chest, particularly if it was one he had recommended.

Today was no different. You were sat in your favourite chair by the fire, with your legs tucked beneath you and a blanket over your lap. You neck was at an angle that Satan was sure couldn’t be comfortable, with half a cup of tea waiting on the coffee table, cold as ice by now.

Kneeling down in front of you, Satan gently pried the book out of your hands, marking your page with your bookmark and placing it on the coffee table. He removed the blanket from you and folded it over his shoulder, before scooping you up into his arms. As he moved passed the coffee table, he caught sight of the half empty cup. He probably should take it out to the kitchen, but you were his priority right now. Besides, as petty as it was, a cold, half empty coffee cup left in the library was sure to rub Lucifer the wrong way.

As previously mentioned, Satan had found you this way many times before, and each time he’d done the same thing, carrying you to your room and tucking you into bed. Initially, he’d intended to tuck you into his bed, but when faced with the cluttered and hazardous reality that was his room, he decided it would be best to put you somewhere where you were less likely to be buried in a book avalanche.

He carried you, as planned, to your bedroom. He placed you down on your neatly made bed, pulling the blanket from over his shoulder and laying it over your sleeping body.

Part of him wished to join you, but he restrained himself, knowing how disorienting it would have been for you to wake up, not only in a different room, but with him at your side. He gently stroked your arm, before tucking the thin blanket further around you.

“Enjoy your nap, kitten.”

Asmodeus

When you invited him to a small picnic in the garden, just the two of you, Asmodeus was already planning how he’d arrange all the photos he was going to take on his Devilgram. He was thinking maybe scenery shots first, then pictures of the snacks you’d prepared, then selfies.

He was really looking forward to spending some quiet time with you, eating some sweet snacks and taking some good selfies. However, when he joined you in the garden, he found you curled up on the picnic blanket, sleeping soundly with petals from the surrounding flowerbed in your hair.

You looked so sweet, and so… aesthetic… Part of him wanted to take a picture of you like this, asleep among the flowers, looking downright ethereal. He didn’t know if he’d even want to post it to Devilgram – he knows his followers would adore it, but he wanted to keep this sight for himself.

He didn’t take the picture. As much as he wanted to capture this moment forever, taking a photo of you when you were asleep and vulnerable was a little invasive. He’d just have to hold this moment in his heart, eternally.

At first, he didn’t want to move you. He sat down, cross-legged beside you and just soaked in the peace of the moment. It wasn’t until he lay his hand on your arm that he realised he couldn’t leave you here. You’d grown cold in the chill of the early evening.

“Oh, dear,” he muttered to himself, tucking his DDD into his pocket and easing you into his arms. “Let’s get you somewhere warm, before your skin dries out.”

He carried you into the house and to his room, where he placed you on the bed. He folded the duvet over you, keeping you wrapped up warm. He joined you on the bed and began running his hands through your hair.

It was a shame he wouldn’t get to enjoy the picnic you’d made for the two of you, but spending time with you like this was good, too. And the picnic wasn’t going to go to waste, he’d make sure of it.

Fishing out his DDD, he sent a text to Beelzebub.

'MC and I left in picnic basket in the garden. It’s yours, if you want it.'

The reply was instantaneous.

'I’m on my way. Thank you.'

Asmo locked his DDD, tossing it gently to the foot of the bed, before turning his attention back to you, still sleeping wrapped up in his duvet, warm and cosy.

“Dream about me, my darling.”

Beelzebub

When Beel found you sat at the dining room table with your head in your folded arms, his first instinct was to make sure you’re okay. While he couldn’t hear anything, you did look a bit like you might be crying, and he hated to see you sad.

He lay a hand on your back to try and comfort you, and that’s when he noticed your soft snores. Beneath your folded arms was your Devildom History textbook, your slightly chewed pen resting between your teeth. You must have fallen asleep while studying, he deduced.

He was glad you weren’t upset, and you did look kind of sweet, fast asleep at the dining table like that, but sleeping hunched over like that couldn’t possibly be good for your spine.

Beel was used to finding Belphie asleep in all sorts of positions, and even he got sore after sleeping hunched over like that. Humans were far more delicate than demons, so he just knew your back was going to ache like death if he left you here.

With his hand still on your back, he gently shook you. “MC, you shouldn’t sleep here,” he called, but you just whined quietly and turned your head, tucking your face into the crook of your elbow.

Beel smiled. Yep, that’s exactly how Belphie would have responded, too.

Alright then, if he couldn’t wake you, Beel reasoned that he’d just have to move you himself. Ever so slowly, he eased the chair out just enough for him to wrap his arms around you, taking great care not to let you fall as he gently lifted you up, your head resting on his shoulder. Balancing you on one arm, he closed your Devildom History book and notebook, dropped your pen beck into your pencil case and tucked the three under his arm.

Beel wrapped his arm back around you and carried you through the corridor and into your bedroom, where he placed you gently on your bed before moving to leave your things on your desk. As he moved back over to you, he pulled a fleece blanket from the linen basket at the foot of your bed and draped it over you, placing a kiss on your cheek as he tucked it around you.

“See you in the morning, sweetheart.”

Belphegor

A five minute rest had turned into a thirty minute nap, and Belphie was late. Nothing new there, he was often late for this exact reason. But this time, he was late for plans he’d made with you, and that was the only reason he felt guilty about it. You two had planned to meet up in the planetarium twenty minutes ago, not to do anything in particular, but even so, he felt bad that he’d unintentionally stood you up.

“Sorry, MC,” he said as he walked into the room mid-yawn. “I didn’t mean to—” he cut himself off when he opened his eyes, unable to see you. He sighed. You must have gotten bored with waiting for him and gone to find something else to do. Understandable, he guessed, but it still pissed him off. You could have come to wake him up, after all. Anyone else he’d get mad at, but for you (and Beel), it was okay.

He turned to leave the room – might as well go back to sleep now – but stopped when he heard something. It sounded like a soft whine, and it was definitely your voice. He turned back around and scanned the room once more, finding you stretched out on the floor of the planetarium, fast asleep.

He smiled. At least you’d both been asleep, he supposed.

He knelt down beside you, dropping his pillow just above your head before gently looping an arm beneath your shoulders and lifting you just enough to slide the pillow under your head, and laying you back down.

Leaving one arm under you, he settled down beside you, holding you close as he pressed a kiss to the very tip of your nose.

“I’ll see you in my dreams, starlight.”

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