#(imagine him being so young so tiny so innocent and him not knowing the pain that will eat him up and shape who he becomes)
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@thehollowwriter I ended up deleting your message in inbox by accident so...
💬 For Diaval!
. . .
Pwetty biwd!”
The small and defenseless baby, with silver hair as shiny as a blade, laughed playfully in the presence of the young imperial guard prodigy—The Prince's wings.
"kaKaKAKAKA! Why do you keep calling me by that silly nickname?" He knelt not too far from the baby, His intention was to match their heights.
The once merciless guard couldn't help but smile every time Lilia's son smiled at him innocently, would his heart have been softened by a simple human baby?
Lilia's voice could be heard in the garden of the small house, talking to Malleus—For some reason, he trusted Diaval enough to take care of this fragile baby.
Every time the raven fae asked why, Lilia would just smile and say he was responsible.
But, perhaps, the truth is that Lilia just wanted the ruthless young boy to learn how to be... Kinder
And no longer lonely
“You grow up really fast, you know?” Diaval crossed his legs, placing his elbows on his knees and resting his face in his calloused hands.
‘Maybe soon you'll start walking around alone”
Diaval's eyes were relaxed—No, his whole body was. This feeling was so pleasant, He missed being able to relax after his intense training sessions.
For a brief moment, he began to remember the first day he took care of Silver… God, he was so tiny and cute! Well, Diaval admits that at first he couldn't help but laugh at how weak Silver was, but that changed, really.
He would never forget the happiness that he felt when Silver smiled at him for the first time and the sensation of taking care of him… Or even Silver’s peaceful sleep after a crying fit that always made Diaval sigh in relief!
Maybe this is what it feels like to have a little brother? It doesn't look so ba-
Diaval!
"huh?"
And suddenly, Diaval's genuine and peaceful smile closed into a grimace, frowning in denial while he could swear he heard a voice in his subconscious that made his whole body shiver—That voice... He knows very well that he belongs to one of his superiors, but... they aren't here.
“Just obey the rules, how difficult it is?"
“Why do you keep making the same mistakes over and over again?”
“If you don’t take your work seriously
you will never be ideal to be at the prince’s side.”
"NO!" He frustratedly pressed his palms against his face, leaving only his wide fearful eyes visible through his fingers—Those simple but cruel words dominated his mind like a distant memory that always disturbs him.
“Biwd?”
Silver stared at Diaval with innocent piercing eyes that seemed to stare right through the raven fae soul as his little hands tried to reach him, who seemed to be so close, yet so far away for a mere baby to reach.
“You… you’re just a baby, I’m just taking care of you because It's an order... That’s all”
Diaval whispered to himself in an attempt to soothe himself, turning his face away shortly afterwards and straightening his posture—His fingers trembled with anxiety and his face seemed tense, fearing the probability of his every movement being closely judged by someone.
He doesn't need affection from a human—So why does he care so much about this child's health?
Worrying about whether Silver will grow up in a healthy environment with lots of love and food? What nonsense.
He dug his nails into his skin, counting on the pain to get those thoughts out of him. Diaval wouldn't sacrifice all the effort he's put in all these years for a baby, he can't lose everything he's achieved—He doesn't want to go back to his old life.
And then, the realization finally hits Diaval as his eyes darted around the small, yet comfortable bedroom—Comfortable sheets, baby toys scattered across the floor, a healthy environment to live in…
I never had these things before
Well, not before I was taken to the castle
That's why Diaval wants Silver to have a happy life so much? It's not possible, he's already overcome it, after all it happened many years ago. But imagining Silver abandoned... It just breaks his heart.
“I'm not really afraid of anyone, but the thought of being forcibly distanced from him..."
“No... Why am I scared at all?”
“I must only protect the ones I love, I shouldn't care what they think.”
“How could I even forget this?”
He took a deep breath, slowly relieving the anxious feeling he felt while banishing any bad thoughts—For now, he just needed to focus on taking care of the baby and forget for a while his castle duties.
Diaval's mind finally snaps back to reality, feeling relief at seeing little Silver standing on two feet...
Wait
SILVER IS STANDING WITHOUT SUPPORT?!?
He lets out a yelp as his instincts kick in to prevent the baby from falling by quickly raising his hands. However, the sign of Silver walking—a little off balance—caused Diaval's body to freeze reluctantly.
He's... He's really walking!
“Y-You...”
“You can do it, Silver! Come!” Diaval stuttered with joy, feeling a chill of happiness in his stomach.
The baby stands still for a while, his little legs trying to get more balance to walk towards the Fae raven, who was waiting with open arms. In a clumsy way Silver slowly took step by step, laughing happily as he took the last step before falling into Diaval's arms and being caught by a tight hug.
If for some reason Diaval ever felt scared before, this moment made him feel— even if only for a moment—the bravest person in the world
“You did it…”
“KAKAKA! YOU DID IT!”
Diaval couldn't help but smile widely as his wings wrapped around them like a warm shield, gently rocking Silver like a winner—If he hadn't been so emotional, he would have denied to death that he was tearing up.
“MALLEUS! LILIA! HE'S WALKING! HE'S WALKING!”
Perhaps, his heart has indeed softened for this human baby
. . .
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the ways of womanhood. [blurb.]
〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉
summary | curtis is set on making you a good little wife, perhaps even more.
pairing | dark!curtis everett x innocent!reader
warnings | filthy curtis things <33, very dark!curtis but also?? soft!dark curtis i guess :’-), dub-con? non-con? yeah, manipulation/lying, fingering (stretching), squirting, tiny bit of mocking/degredation, praise kink, breeding kink, implied non-con intercourse to follow, calling him “sir” !!
word count | 452
requested by @curbitkirby | For blurb night, how about a Curtis fic where he has a breeding kink and has picked a sheltered young woman (either from the train or an au) and when he breaks in, shes just like, “oh, new mentor, you must be here to teach me my womanly duties,” and he’s like, “ok, I can use this, we’ll start with the basics,” and feels her up and tells her what a husband should do, teaches her how to kiss, and when she’s all dreamy eyed and breathless, he starts tugging at her skirt and asks, “wanna play mommy and daddy? I’ll show you how, sweetheart,” and at first she’s skeptical, but he keeps her on her hands and knees as he scissors his fingers into her and assures her that its normal to be getting so wet and her legs are supposed to shake and of course three fingers hurt and a forth will hurt even more (and he can’t wait ‘til the tip of his cock is kissing her cervix, because if she’s mewing and crying now, his actual dick is gonna make her bleed), and how he’s so proud of her for being so good at their game, and the whole time he’s promising he’s just getting her ready for her future husband, and that he won’t fuck her, but of course he’s lying.
an | hey friend, thanks so much for this request and congrats on being the very first submission picked for blurb night! okay okay so admittedly this is my first fitlhy curtis piece, i hope i did him justice :’-) since this is a blurb i kind of condensed things and much is implied or left up to the reader’s imagination, but nonetheless i so so so hope you enjoy!!
You want more than anything to please your new mentor. He came all this way to show you the ways of womanhood, to make you into the perfect lady and wife.
But as he crouches behind you on the thin mattress of your twin-sized bed, one arm firmly secured over your back to keep you from moving while his other hand rams its fingers into your aching folds from behind, you’re starting to wonder if maybe you’re not cut out for the domestic role you’ve been so desperately seeking, after all.
“P-please, sir, it hurts,” you choke back tears, doing your best not to squirm under the man’s forceful tactics.
“I know, angel, I know,” Curtis hums almost mockingly as he curls his fingers up against the soft flesh of your virgin walls, savoring the feeling of your tight heat clenching around him helplessly. “But this is how all big girls take it, sweetheart. Have'ta get you nice and ready for me, now, don’t we?”
When he starts to add a painful third finger, your head falls in agony, tears dripping down your cheeks as your slick arousal coats your inner thighs. “Doin’ so good for me, babydoll. Gonna make such a pretty wife for me, aren’t you?”
“P-please, it hurts, I-I can’t take it,” you heave, jolting when his thumb moves to brush against your bundle of nerves.
Smiling, Curtis shushes you, working the tender bead in tight circles as he picks up the pace of his fingers inside you. Humiliating sounds of your wetness fill the room as your back arches, an incredible burning feeling building in your gut as you do your best not to scream. “There, just like that, pretty girl. Maybe one more and then we can see if I’ll fit, hmm? You gonna do that for me, angel? Gonna give me one more before I fill you up, make you all mine?”
“P-please,” you begin to protest, but before you can say another word, Curtis rams in a fourth finger, the terrible feeling of his fingers reaching your spongey ceiling sending you over the edge completely against your will. “Mmmph-!” you sob into your pillow, your legs shaking as you spill out over the grinning man’s arm.
“Good, that’s a good girl,” he sings, flicking feverishly over your clit as you ride out your high. “Gonna take my cock so well, aren’t you?” he croons as you begin to come down, your entire body twitching in spasms as you adjust to your heightened sensitivity. “That’s right, gonna take it all, even if it hurts, sweetheart. Gonna make you such a good little wife for me, baby. Gonna be such a good little mommy for my babies.”
#eun's writing#the ways of womanhood#curtis everett#curtis everett smut#dark!curtis everett#curtis everett fanfiction#snowpiercer#snowpiercer fanfiction#curtis everett x reader#curtis everett x y/n#curtis everett blurb#curtis everett drabble#curtis everett headcanon#curtis everett one shot#curtis everett imagine
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wowie they are attached—makes me wonder what would happen if she died.
Okay first of all, yall REALLY love your angst, don’t you? But to answer your question:
Given the absolute level of overkill that occurred when she LET herself be kidnapped by scumbags that were absolutely no threat to her…..if someone actually managed to kill her? Goodbye peace, hello Helen of Troy levels of vengeance. Not only do you have her enraged, grieving students out looking to drown the weight of their pain in blood, there’s also her other team, Kushina and Mikoto and Sakumo, there’s the entire Hyuuga Clan, there’s Orochimaru and Minato, there’s— well, it keeps going.
If the other side was smart, they’d just hand over anyone even peripherally responsible for her death, be like “here, do with them whatever you want”, and pray that that’s enough (likely, it won’t be. At least, not for everyone).
Reina, like Hisana (because she is Hisana, just another version of her), has the same tendency to underestimate how much she means to those she cares about. That being said, she knows her team well enough, has seen the way they operate without her enough times, to be aware of the fact that she is the only person capable of holding them back when they really get going (the other person with some level of influence over them being Orochimaru, but if you’re relying on Orochimaru to be the moral compass for a group of incredibly dangerous teenage boys who see murder as anywhere from a means to an ends to a pleasurable hobby, then you’ve already lost).
She doesn’t like to admit it, but the thought of dying terrifies her— not because she’s afraid of death (she’s experienced it before, after all; she remembers it being like a nap cut short) but because she’s scared of what her team will do in her absence.
On a slightly more crack note, can you imagine if she did die and then so many other people started dying that Death just threw her back and was like ‘nuh uh, you go back and fix this.’
There was a toddler in the middle of the battlefield.
Newly minted chuunin Sato Aoki stared as the little girl-- god, she couldn’t be older than two-- carefully walked through the blood-soaked field, stepping around corpses and occasionally bending down to check for a pulse (which was weird enough on its own even setting aside the fact that there was a goddamn toddler in a battlefield, because what toddler knew to check for a pulse?). She was an adorable little thing, bluish-black hair like magpie feathers tied back into tiny pigtails and bright blue eyes set in an innocent, cherubic face.
He wondered if he was hallucinating.
“Aoki,” his partner whispered from next to him, voice containing the same dumbfounded disbelief that Aoki was currently feeling. “Aoki, is that-- is that a child?”
That snapped Aoki out of his shock and he burst into motion.
“Kid! Hey kid!” Aoki shouted, ignoring Daisuke’s warnings to shut up, shut up, it could be a trap. “Over here!”
Her head snapped up to look in his direction, gaze automatically traveling upwards to take in his shinobi headband. Aoki felt a sharp pang of sadness at that. That she was so young, and she already knew to-- well.
“Konoha!” She greeted happily and started running towards him, her shoes making squelching sounds in the blood-soaked grass. Aoki met her halfway, picking her up and flash-stepping back to safety.
“Kid, where are your parents?” He asked urgently. He had a feeling he knew the answer, given that she was a toddler wandering through the middle of a battlefield, and the answering tremble to her lips confirmed it.
“Konoha?” She asked again, gazing up at him.
“Yeah, we’re Konoha,” Daisuke said, looking at her with slightly narrowed eyes. “Although you shouldn’t be, considering we’re in the Land of Water.”
The girl shrugged, unbothered by the clear implication in his voice.
“Have family in Konoha too,” she insisted. There was something odd about the way she was talking-- she said each word slowly, carefully, making sure to enunciate every syllable, as if she was taking great pains to avoid a toddler’s lisp.
“Who’s your family, sweetheart? We might know them,” Aoki asked, ignoring Daisuke’s sharp look his way. Trap or not, he wasn’t going to mistreat a toddler.
The girl straightened up in his arms, expression unusually serious for a girl her age.
“Kabuto. Kimimaro. Itachi,” she said, every word crystal clear. “Can you take me to them?”
Aoki inhaled sharply.
The Demon Trio. Each responsible for multiple massacres, each with an S-rank title carved out in blood.
“What did you say your name was again?” Daisuke asked, voice shaking slightly.
“Reina,” the girl said, no hint of hesitation anywhere in her voice. “My name is Reina.”
~~
The plan had been to take her to the Hokage first. Namikaze Minato and Kobayashi Reina had been friends, after all-- he’d be able to confirm her identity if this was some kind of bizarre ploy by Mist. Reina hadn’t seemed to have any issue with the plan when they’d told her.
“Okay. Minato-kun will be able to tell it’s me,” was all she said.
That plan fell apart approximately ten seconds after arriving in the village. Because of course the Demon Trio-- the infamous Team 4 (they’d insisted on keeping the name)-- had to return from their mission right after them.
Reina noticed them first.
“Itachi!” She shrieked. Aoki let out a grunt as she began struggling suddenly to be let down. “Kabuto! Kimimaro!”
Aoki felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise as he was suddenly pinned in place by three eerily intense stares. He trembled, feeling sweat start beading on his forehead. A tiny corner of his mind wondered how Daisuke was doing, if he was similarly affected, but he couldn’t turn to see. Not when they were looking at him like that.
So. This was what it was like to be noticed by monsters.
Reina seemed completely oblivious to all this as she finally managed to wriggle free.
“Itachi!” She called again. At the sound of his name, Uchiha Itachi blinked before looking down at the tiny girl making a beeline towards him and his teammates.
“What--” He began, a rare note of confusion in his voice as Reina skidded to a stop in front of him.
“I’m sorry,” she blurted out, sounding on the verge of tears. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to leave--” She choked on a sob, clenching her hands into fists as if she was physically restraining herself from reaching out. “I didn’t wanna leave you, I should’ve tried harder, I should’ve been better--”
“It can’t be,” Kimimaro murmured. His voice shook slightly. “Reina-sensei?”
Reina’s bottom lip trembled dangerously, eyes shiny with tears. She looked absolutely devastated.
“I’m so sorry,” she repeated. “Please-- please forgive me.”
“Leave it to you to blame yourself instead of the scum that killed you,” Kabuto laughed, laced with something raw and too desperate to be called sane. “How typical of you, sensei.”
Itachi remained silent, unmoving like stone, his eyes the only part of him that provided any insight into how he was feeling. Blazing crimson pinwheels spun wildly, an endless swirl of red and black, taking in every inch of her features with a greedy hunger-- memorizing them, capturing them, carving them into his brain until they became a part of him forever.
“I--” Reina swayed, her toddler’s body suddenly overwhelmed by the events of the day. Fighting against her exhaustion stubbornly, she raised her arms up in the universal toddler gesture to be held.
“Hug?” She pleaded, and buried her face in the crook of Itachi’s neck when he swept her up, cradling her oh-so-gently against his chest. “Won’t leave again. Promise.”
“You don’t have to tell us that, sensei,” Kabuto said, reaching out to brush the hair from her face with a fond smile. “Believe me, we’ll make sure of it.”
(If you’re curious why she asked for her team first, it’s because her team saw her die. Her last memory was of Itachi holding her desperately, his tears on her face, of Kimimaro screaming for her to stay with them, of Kabuto’s frantic attempts to stop the bleeding and save her life (he did manage to stop the bleeding, but she’d already lost too much blood to live by that point).
So when she woke up again, her first thought was that she had to go find her team to make sure they were okay and to apologize for leaving them)
*covers face* I’m spending way too much time writing for this verse. As always, I love comments, although I really shouldn’t be asking for them given that they only feed my inspiration and I’ve already written too much
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overlooked narrative themes
Ok the credits music is still playing but I can’t wait ANOTHER MINUTE to *SCREAM*
I just can’t stop thinking of the missing opportunities, but hey, that’s what fandom theories and fic is for!! *manic grin*
Under the cut in case someone hasn’t blacklisted the tag and spoil themselves by mistake:
Happy Memories
Ok, so when Max talked about happy memories I hoped they wouldn’t use the cliche of a romantic one. I was wrong. I hoped they would use one in which she was with all the people who loved her.
On one hand, it makes sense that a teenager would think the moment she kissed Lucas as the happiest one. I’m not saying is wrong per-se, the scene she used wasn’t one that only Lucas existed, butu all of her friends. Whaa I’m trying to say is that you cannot put all your expectations in one moment, you need something more to back it up.
Surprisingly enough the narrative kinda agreed with me, looking how the ballroom memory quickly fell down BUT her memories of all the people who loved her (included Lucas) had more weight than what she tought they had.
And this is when I came of the part 2 of the happy memories.
Use the source of your grief against him
I gotta admit that I loved Billy as a character. Yes he was an asshole of the highest calibre, but he also was a complex character that I would have loved to see surviving and adapting to the gang.
So when we got to see several scenes/memories of Billy, I tiny little spark of hope came to life in me.
And when we saw Max in that skateboard place? I had HIGH hopes for what that meant. Because, why show that memory if that didn’t have any importance? It had to mean something, right?
I thought how, after all what Max said about Billy, that maybe they did have some good memories, maybe when they were young and living in California.
What if Billy was the one who taught her to skate? What if there was a time when Billy wasn’t constantly abused by his father? What if there was a time when he wasn’t a complete asshole? What if? Max surely had to have some good memory of him, no matter how distant, otherwise she wouldn’t feel guilty.
And I know I’m projecting a lot of fandom headcanons into this, I know. But why show us (again) Billy’s memories of when he was young and happy and innocent? Why when Eleven got into Max’s mind the first thing she saw was that skateboarding place?? Just why? It seems so random.
So yeah, I had a lil tiny hope Billy, even in memory, would be important. But the more I think about it, the more this theory makes sense and I’m confused at myself right now!
We had the skateboarding memory (the first one!). We had flashbacks of Billy, him being used and in pain, him being happy. We had Vecna/Henry mock Max about how weak her brother was.
Then everyone was out of commission. Vecna was paying attention to everybody but Max, who was half unconscious. Narratively speaking it would been (to me) much more satisfying if in that moment Max found in herself a memory that Vecna wouldn’t even think about. Imagine Max taking something that Vecna used to hurt her and then Max just flip it and make it something that actually made her happy, something buried inside herself, something that was actually the root of her hatred for her bother. Because Max looked at Billy and thought “You weren’t always like this. I miss the brother that had my back and loved me. Give him back to me”
THAT would have been heartshattering to me. Vecna would be all like “Oh, you cannot even think of your brother bc all you guilt, and I’m gonna torture you with that” and then Max could have been all “Fuck you”
Because. Think of the first time Billy appeared to Max. Do you rememeber when his voice fucking cracks when he’s saying that Max sometimes wishes she was dead instead of him. Did you see THE FUCKING TEAR?!
Vecna don’t use emotional manipulation like that. He wants people to be afraid, terrified of him. Why would Vecna make a vision of Billy appear heartbroken that Max wish she was dead instead of him? It doesn’t make sense.
The again, if all his victims are inside of him and are part of him, that would have been another reason of that vision to be the real Billy.
My point is that if one of the main themes is generational trauma, all of this would make sense!
Max biggest fear and weakness was Billy’s death. What better way to overcome that than beating Vecna with an actual good memory of the person who makes her the most guilty?
Buuuut nope. Instead we got Eleven powering up and beating the bad guy. Which is good, don’t take me wrong, but lack originality and frankly? It clash with the theme. Eleven got closure (don’t let me start how they tried to redeem that asshole in his final moments), so why not Max?
.
What I mean to say in this convoluted rant, is that they wasted away the chance to expand the theme of overcoming your fears and making peace with it. (the missing potentiaaaaaall ngkjhgaskdf!!!)
They could had made Max use the very source of her grief against Vecna. Finding a good memory of Billy. And they literally gave us a lot of basics and hints and scenes to us to work out that precisely, and that’s why I was a little dumbfounded they didn’t go though. I mean *gestures emphatically at those scenes*, look all of that!
.
Anyway. I’m just very dissapointed they didn’t use the very scenes they themselves created (why the skateboard scene, why?!!) but not really surprised. Fortunately we always have fandom and fics! (anyone willing to use this to write fic is always welcome and pls send me a link i’m begging you)
Also we don’t talk about that other thing.
That thing didn’t happen. Nope. Absolutely not.
(they didn’t kill another of Steve’s potential bf/co-parent/co-babysitter, nope, I refuse to think that. Both of them are trapped in the Upside Down/Mind Flyer/Vecna/whateveridon’tcare, and ONE DAY THEY WILL BE SAVED GODDAMNIT!!!! *smash fist into table*
#stranger things#stranger things 4#stranger things spoilers#stranger things meta#stranger things 4 meta#max mayfield#billy hargrove#mine
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9/7/22 8:24 am
It still hurts.
I’ve been trying really hard to convince myself that I’m ok. It’s ok. This is all ok. I tell myself that he deserves this. To be free. To not be with me. He’s young. He has his whole life ahead of him. He deserves a long happy marriage, kids, someone his family will approve of…. Someone who is not broken and used up. Just because I felt something and saw potential doesn’t mean that the potential should be realized. It was a selfish dream. The equivalent of stealing his life, really. He deserves so much more. So much better. And even tho I hoped…I’m not entirely vain enough to think that I’m the best thing for him. That only I can fill a hole he needs filled. There will be better. Why fill something with dirt when you can fill it with gold instead?
I force myself to imagine him with someone else. Get used to that idea. I’m going to have to get used to that idea if we’re going to be friends. He’s going to find someone else. Love someone else. Touch someone else. Someone else is going to make him smile. Probably more than I ever have. Someone else will be in his life. Wearing his ring. Sleeping in his bed. Having his kids. I imagine him telling me he’s getting married. Having a baby. Being unbelievably happy.
Because he deserves all of it and more. I wish all of that and more for him. Things I can’t give him. He deserves a kind sweet woman. Maybe with a soft southern accent. Tiny and cute and innocent. Feisty but oh so kind. With a heart of gold. Someone he can lean on and trust and place above all others. A priority. Someone worthy of being his priority.
But it hurts.
Some days I almost think I’ve succeeded in walling up this pain, this love. Pretending it doesn’t exist. I try to convince myself it doesn’t exist. I tell myself that I never saw his face so it should be easy to convince myself that it was all just a lovely dream, right? It didn’t really happen? I mean, how real can it be? I don’t think it was that real to him. I mean…he was so nonchalant about it all. So easy to accept it and move on. Relieved even. Probably realized his mistake once he saw my face. Once he saw all of me. Just because a person has a nice personality doesn’t mean they will be nice looking. I’m sure I was a huge disappointment to him. So he never got attached. Never cared that much. Certainly didn’t fall in love with me like I did with him.
Idiot.
So now he’ll move on. Probably already has and I just don’t know it because he doesn’t like to talk about his life. Everyone else will know before me. He’ll probably drop it in a chat group and I’ll hear about it weeks later.
And it will destroy me.
But I’m trying to make it ok. This is what he deserves. Someone sooooo much better than me. Someone who will make him happy. Someone who will be so amazing that he’ll actually love her. He’ll want to give up time to her. Talk to her. Hold her. Be with her. That certainly wasn’t me. I didn’t inspire those things in him. I just gave him grief and shame and guilt and encroached upon his time. I gave him hated obligations. I tried to give him love, but it didn’t work. It wasn’t good enough.
Today, I realized-he’ll never let me in. I asked the name of his newborn nephew. A name. Not even the full name. He didn’t want to give it. It’s unique he says. And that’s when it hit me. I’m nothing to him. Just a random voice on the internet. Not a friend, like he tells me. I bet he told all his friends at his UFC night the baby’s name. People he meets in real life. But I’m just words on a screen. Someone to keep at arm’s length and never give any personal details to because I’m just a blip. I will never be a part of his life. If I disappeared today, he’d only be sad that there’s one less person to relieve his boredom.
And that hurts. A lot.
But what can I do?
Nothing. </3
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black magic [01]
REQUEST. arranged marriage + enemies to lovers (sukuna is a simp and lowkey a housewife)
CONTENT/WARNINGS. some suggestive scenes, but overall fluff and romance! slight crack fic, I guess? I was laughing when I wrote this lol
NOTES. I NEED A HUSBAND! SUKUNA I’M GOING TO CRY GOODBYE THIS HAS ME SOFT. also anon i’m not sure if you wanted something with more ~sexual tension~ since this is kind of just comedic, but I hope you like it anyway!
part one | part two (nsfw)
“This is new,” you comment with a glare, your ankle propped on Sukuna’s knee.
“Shut up,” he rolls his eyes, pushing your skirt aside to clean the wounds you attained through exorcising curses. You’ve taken a particularly strong curse today and you’re caught off guard, barely finishing the mission unscathed. Limping all the way back home isn’t easy especially since you live on top of the darned mountain, but if Sukuna’s going to kneel in front of you like this...maybe it wasn’t too tough a journey. “You should stop going to missions you’re not ready for. Look at you, all wounded and bloody.”
“You sound like you care.”
“You’re my wife,” he huffs while dropping the bloody towel on the floor. Sukuna wraps the bandage around your ankle and carries you bridal style even though you’re perfectly capable of walking, but he shoots you a silencing glare. You’d have knocked him in the face any other day, but he’s particularly warm and smells nice today – plus you’re beat – that you bury your face in his chest, ignoring that stupid fluttering in your stomach. “Of course I do.”
You snicker, mind tracing back to your earlier years of this dreaded marriage.
It definitely wasn’t the best – the memories blurring between strangling each other to making out as if breathing was never a thing – and it felt like forever ago when you first met him.
You’d never say it out loud, but... you don’t regret this arranged marriage. Not when Sukuna is tucking himself beside you on the bed, your head above his muscular chest a place similar to home. He covers both your bodies over with a blanket, pulling your body closer to him with a strong arm, his lips pressing onto the crown of your head.
Ugh, you think to yourself, giving in to the need to cuddle your husband after a long day of work. You still refuse to say it out loud, though, and you irk him further by muttering, “That’s not what you said two years ago.”
“I wasn’t in love with you then.”
“I refuse to be married to you!”
Sukuna fights back the urge to cover his ears. Ever since your clan decided to visit his land and started exorcising curses one by one, his life has been nothing but hell. Not only are your relatives the most arrogant people ever with a consistent god complex, they just had to let their little mortal child be in charge of taking on the stronger curses. Seriously, what were they thinking, sending you – who’s barely even out of their training bra years – to deal with curses like him?
Everyone knows Sukuna is a no bullshit man. He won’t hesitate to cut your head off the moment you came raging at him, but then he sees how young you are and decides to send you back to your family.
Expecting that everyone would just call it a day and he’d get offerings for his unexpected mercy, Sukuna is beyond stupefied when they send you back to his temple, all dressed pretty with a basket of fruits and flowers braided in your hair. He remembers growling because you look adorable, but that’s easily wiped away when you open your mouth, your voice scratchy against his ears as you stomp your feet like the young mortal you are.
Sukuna pushes a thumb to his forehead to ease the impending headache, and that’s just from your presence. Something inside him tells that you’re going to be a bigger pain than you look.
“You don’t have much of a choice. You should’ve thought of that before deciding to run rampage over my land,” he reminds, turning boredly to his lone servant from above his throne. Sukuna isn’t impressed, to say the least, especially with your clan’s audacious proposition to gain his favour just this once. “Is this really the woman you bring me – the one they insist to be my wife?”
“She is their best fighter, my Lord.”
Well, he can’t disagree to that. You did, after all, single-handedly give him a cut on the cheek. “She’s feisty indeed.”
“Don’t talk as if I’m not here!”
“Mouthy too,” he mumbles to himself, but your sorcerer senses are sharp and easily picks up on it. He sees you flush angry again, looking immensely adorable with your tiny fists clenched like that and he snorts, waving a hand in the air. “Whatever. Get the wedding over with,” he nods to his servant, his sigh loud and tired as he makes his way to you.
You don’t stiffen at each haunting step, his eyes only glimmering harder with entertainment. It’s rare to find a mortal that doesn’t quiver at the sight of him, the urge to break you only growing stronger.
Even as he cups your face, making sure to not let his claws dig into your precious skin, Sukuna smirks. You’ll be entertaining indeed.
So Sukuna makes a promise, four eyes surveying the way your body is starting to fill in curves at the right places, the swell of your flesh just perfect in his hands... He chuckles to himself, daunting you further as he leans down to your ear, taking pleasure in the slight way your breath hitches. “Maybe then I’ll get to teach you a lesson or two.”
You’re definitely something else, taking advantage of each presented opportunity and not wasting any time before you make your move. Right after the wedding and everyone’s left, leaving you alone with your new husband behind closed doors; you push him until he’s on the ground, legs straddling each side of his hips while you growl above him – the sound similar to a battle cry.
Sukuna merely smirks, barely moving a muscle as his large hands come up to rest on your hips to steady you. “I’ve imagined countless ways you’d be on top of me like this,” his eyes light up with humour upon feeling the cold blade on his skin, “None of them included a knife on my neck though.”
“Shut your mouth. I will kill you myself,” you warn, pressing your knife harder until it draws a slight tinge of blood.
You hardly look threatening above him like this, dolled up to look the best in your wedding with this cursed being. If anything, you look more divine than deadly, and Sukuna thinks that perhaps your beauty could be your best weapon. You are bewitching, after all.
“I refuse to be your Queen and sit next to your throne.”
“Then why didn’t you stop the wedding?”
“I—”
Sukuna’s teasing grin grows wider when you pull back, trying so hard to not trip over your words. It takes all of his self-restraint to not take you right then and there, but he does a good job of holding back, enjoying this view above him instead. “Could it be you’re attracted to me after all, hm, little one?”
“Do not test me, Curse. I’m more than capable of exorcising you myself.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that. You’re the strongest in the Gojo clan, are you not?” he prompts to appease you, “I don’t even want to see what you’re capable of, but maybe, just maybe...” just as his eyes darken, the edges of his lips turning up into a smirk, Sukuna digs his claws into your thigh in a possessive show of ownership, a painful reminder that you’re his now. “...You could put on a little show for me?”
“I hate you!”
Experienced and strong as you are, you’re nothing compared to a thousand year old curse who’s killed a lot more people faster than you could blink. Sukuna immediately notices the animalistic way you draw your blade, arm swung back with rage written all over your face. Before you could so much as bat an eye, he easily switches the positions until you’re under him, using only one hand to pin your arms above your head, your blade effortlessly thrown to the other side of the room.
“As I thought, you’re a lot prettier under me like this,” he observes, roaming his eyes shamelessly over the fabric clinging prettily to your body. You’ve fallen silent at his unconcealed attention, your compliance enticing him to lean closer just to inhale your intoxicating scent.
“Not so feisty now, little one? Where’d all your hatred for me go?” Sukuna pulls back with widened eyes, “Oh? Am I hearing it wrong or is your pathetic human heart beating so loud right now?” You refuse to look at him, wriggling your hips in an attempt to leave, completely unaware that the mere movement is hypnotizing the curse above you. Sukuna grips your hips in warning, not wanting to destroy you – not now, anyway. “You know all you need to do is say it. I’d gladly take you right here and then.” His words spoken with that deep, throaty voice immediately sends a wave of heat down your core, but you turn away from him, breathing hard and nervously; something Sukuna picks up on in an instant. “Little one...have you never had a man hold you like this before?”
“N-no...”
“I see. Pure and innocent behind that ferocity, huh?” He surprises you by pulling away, smoothening his white robes down as he leaves you panting still on the floor. “Fine. I won’t touch you unless you ask me to.”
“I’d rather die before that ever comes out from my mouth.”
“We’ll see about that,” he smirks, winking at you before he shuts the door. “Little one.”
There’s a lot of weird – and utterly inconvenient things – about being Sukuna’s wife. The man eats everything, absolutely everything, and it doesn’t help that he sucks at hunting too. For a man so huge and burly, he sure is lazy, preferring to do the laundry in the riverside instead while you go out every day to prepare your meals.
You actually don’t mind, but it’s very fun to complain around him.
You’re on your way back to the temple when Sukuna grabs at you, making you drop the freshly caught birds onto the ground. Your brows furrow, about to scold him for being too eager again when Sukuna stares at your arm, his lips pressing into a thin line.
Following his line of sight, your lips form an ‘o’ shape. There’s blood trickling down your forearm from his claws accidentally cutting you, guilt written all over his face. Another weird thing about Sukuna is that he babbles a lot when he’s emotional, and you’re too tired to hear him beat himself over it that you just drag him inside your room, sitting his ass down before taking a clipper.
Sukuna scoffs when you start cutting his nails. It irks him that you don’t even bother wiping the blood off first and he tsks, eyes narrowed at you. “You should have thicker skin.”
You roll your eyes as you file his nails; you’ve been married to him long enough to know it’s his way of saying sorry. Not wanting to let him wallow in guilt any louder, you pad kisses over his knuckles before swiping the black ink off your desk, using a pen brush to colour your nails instead. Sukuna hovers behind you, head tilted to the side as he watched you. “Are you painting your nails black?” he utters in disbelief, trying to ignore the fact he feels...proud and even a little smug. “Not so fitting for the angelic sorcerer now, isn’t it?”
“I’m only doing this so you don’t feel left out.”
“Maybe I’ll add markings to your pretty face too,” he cups your jaw to make you turn to him, landing a solid kiss flat to your lips which makes you sigh, pretending to be annoyed but leaning over for another peck anyway. Sukuna laughs and pulls you onto his lap, kissing your neck this time around, a little annoyed that you don’t stop in brandishing your nails. “Wife, what do you think?”
“I have work, Sukuna. You flirting with me doesn’t change the fact I need to go.”
“Come home safe for me, at least?” he breathes down your neck, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You’ve definitely changed since the first time he’s met you, starting from a mean (although he stands strong that you are still mean to him sometimes) temperamental little one to a mature, stronger sorcerer who’s secretly weak for his wife.
Unable to resist him as always, you turn around once you’ve finished painting your nails, rubbing your nose over his until your strong, scary husband is turning into putty at your hands. “Of course I will,” you peck his lips one last time, Sukuna’s eyes closing as he dives in for a deeper kiss. “I’ll always come back home to my handsome husband.”
If anyone were to ask how it’s possible that the King of Curses is actually very soft for his sorcerer wife, everyone would claim it’s impossible and a heresy – but if you ask Sukuna, it’s probably just black magic doing its wonders.
#sukuna x reader#ryoumen sukuna x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen imagines#ryoumen sukuna x reader imagines#ryoumen sukuna x reader fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#sukuna fluff#sukuna x reader fluff#sukuna x reader romance#sukuna imagines#ryoumen sukuna imagines#ryoumen sukuna fluff#sukuna x you#sukuna x you imagines#sukuna x you fluff#jjk#jjk x reader#suki: 500 milestone event#suki: scheduled
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A/N: Heyho there my lovelies! I’m finally back! I missed posting so much! This Imagine is based on a TikTok I found and what can I say? It inspired me! After this, next up, will be the 20k Special! Enjoy everyone!
Words: 3205
Warnings: colour-blindness
“What if I never find him?” You murmured, glancing at the fruit bowl with a saddened expression. Yellow bananas, green grapes, red apples. To you, they were all different shades of grey. Dull and boring, like you had been sucked into a 30s black-and-white film. Only you didn’t get a cheesy romance out of it.
You had been born with what doctors today would call a ‘remarkably rare, complicated and fascinating condition’, for you had lost all of your colour vision at the age of twelve. You still remembered what the world had looked like before—bright, rich, intense—then someone flicked a switch overnight and all you could still see was grey, grey, grey and greyer. The colours would only ever come back to you once you found the love of your life—your soulmate.
A sigh escaped your lips. Only a few people still existed with this… defect and to make things worse, you had had no idea you were one of them. Not until your twelfth birthday. Society admired and pitied you all the same and yet, being a hopeless romantic, at the end of the day, you longed to finally fall in love.
Tony chuckled. “Heads up. You’re too young to worry about settling down anyway.” He responded cheerfully and pointed at you with a screwdriver in hand. He had been trying to fix the dishwasher for a solid twenty minutes now and for a man who had built himself a pretty much indestructible suit that could fly, it was utterly amusing he couldn’t figure out why it had stopped working.
You were not an Avenger, mind you. The sole reason you were, as of right now, in the Avengers’ kitchen munching on grey chocolate chips was that your best friend, who in turn was friends with Clint’s wife, had managed to flood your shared flat over the weekend. It was utterly inhabitable now and it would take quite a while for the landlord to get it all dried up again—and since insurance would not cover the cost for staying in a hotel, for the time being, Clint’s wife had suggested you’d stay with them—right until Tony Stark had shown up and you had graciously offered you’d come hang out at the Avengers Tower. Okay, technically you had begged him but either way and needless to say, you had jumped at the opportunity and somehow even hoped that you would learn some dirty superhero secrets—but so far, nothing. Nothing but what superheroes did when they were not out and about saving the world. Truth be told, seeing Thor in Hello Kitty pyjamas and witnessing Natasha Romanoff of all people scream watching an Asian horror film had its perks but you had somehow expected for them to be called in for an urgent mission where they required a skill only you had and then they would rely on your help and you would fight and become an Avenger and… your fanfiction had always sounded too good to be true.
“Are you still there? How is that fruit bowl so interesting?” Snapping yourself out of your thoughts, you blinked.
“Sorry. What were you saying?”
“I was saying that…”
“Tony?” It was Bruce who interrupted you two, peeking his head into the kitchen almost timidly. You waved at him and he nodded, yet he failed to reciprocate your smile. Uh-Oh.
“Did something happen?”
The scientist nodded. “You might wanna put on your suit.”
“What happened?”
Bruce pursed his lips. “We’ve located Loki.”
-
Your eyes were still widened by the time you rushed after Tony even after he had told you explicitly (three times, to be exact) to stay put and hide until he had been put in custody.
The Loki. God of Mischief, Thor’s brother, Frost Giant, the I-tried-to-take-over-the-planet-guy. It was exciting, somehow, meeting a villain and oh, would it fuel you for your fan fiction. You almost bumped straight into Thor when they all came to a halt all of a sudden, his body a wall of flesh and muscle and making you grunt in pain—you might as well have hit a brick wall. With his hammer in hand, he ensured no one would approach his dangerous brother closely enough for him to try anything funky.
But the fact that Loki was even more handsome in person and the first villain you ever saw in person when he turned around the corner with a proud and arrogant expression on his face despite his shackles, was not what startled you to the core.
All of a sudden, there were colours. Everywhere.
Your lips parted, the impact of all the pigmentation around you making you dizzy. Loki’s armour was black, his cape was green, his eyes were blue, and his hair reminded you of the plumage of a raven. And your surroundings... The compound was silver now, the sceptre they had taken from him golden. Nauseous, you held on to Thor’s muscly arm for support. The God of Thunder frowned in concern. His eyes were blue too, his hair blonde, his cape red… too… many… colours. You suppressed a gag, overwhelmed by the sudden return of your colour vision.
“Are you okay?” Thor asked.
“G-guys… I can see colours.”
Every single head in the room, including Loki’s, turned in your direction so fast you flinched. Tony’s face was the first to fall in response.
“You are joking, right?”
Mutely, you shook your head. Your eyes locked with Loki’s, electricity rippling through you when they did. His blue irises froze you from the inside out, like each and every one of your limbs failed to resist the magnetic pull you felt towards him, and your cells longed for you to throw yourself into his arms—despite the fact he was handcuffed... and for a good reason too. Swallowing thickly, you forced yourself to look away.
Loki was your soulmate. That was impossible; and quite frankly, the god in question appeared to be thinking the exact same thing.
You chewed on your lower lip, anything to distract yourself from your predicament all the while everyone was still staring at you like you had grown two more heads.
“Take him to the cells, I’ll stay with her.” Clint’s hand on your shoulder did little to console you. Part of you still barely resisted the urge to start at Loki like a succubus, the other… the other was terrified and meant to hide in the archer’s embrace.
You could feel Loki’s blue gaze still resting on you when he led you away from the scene, staring daggers into your back and rendering you speechless until you were finally out of sight and Clint shook your shoulder gently.
“Are you sure it’s not one of the security guards that helped bring him in?”
“No… no, I saw them first. Loki was behind them. It’s… I don’t know how to explain it but somehow, Loki was in colour first, you know what I mean? First him and then, a split second later, everything else was colourful too.”
“And now?”
“Now what?”
“Do you still see in colour now?”
“Of course I do.” Clint sighed and buried his face in his hands.
“So what happens if you don’t… act on this soulmate thing?”
“Nothing. Nothing happens.” You said.
“So you don’t have to… stay close to Loki or anything?”
“No. Not that I know of. But Clint—“
“Good. Because he might find a way to use you against us. Stay away from him. Thor’ll take him back to Asgard soon enough. All we need to do first is find the Tesseract.”
Your lips were pursed when he turned to check on them and if Loki was wreaking havoc while they were trying to get him imprisoned.
Stay away from him? Of course… it was the most reasonable thing to do. Loki was dangerous, a criminal… but was that right? Now that you had found your soulmate in him?
-
You couldn’t get him out of your head that night. Screw the danger, you had to see him. And eventually, your curiosity and that inexplicable and strange pull you felt towards Loki got the better of you. With a deep breath, you threw your covers back and let your bare feet hit the cold floor before quietly tiptoeing out into the dark and empty hallway.
Your blood was rushing in your ears, making you hear things your paranoia and imagination cooked up to the point your heart was pounding in your chest so hard and fast you feared it might jump right out of your ribcage. No one could know, of course. Clint would positively kill you—he, along with Tony, somewhat considered himself responsible for you here. You couldn’t really blame them. If something happened to you, they’d never forgive themselves. You were an innocent civilian, after all.
And now you had been tossed into the greatest fanfiction yet. Shivering, for the cold slowly crept into your bare skin and through the tanktop and shorts you were wearing to sleep, you finally reached the corridor leading to the elevator. The prison cells, a rather new addition to Stark Tower, were located at the very bottom, the cellar, or… what you preferred to call it, a modern dungeon.
You found Loki with his back turned to you in his cell, looking pale through the glass pane. Your heart skipped a beat when he suddenly spoke up.
“I expected you would find a way to come and see me at some point. I’d dare say the Avengers have taken quite the precautions to keep you as far away from me as possible.” He mused. He lifted his chin, approaching the glass window.
It was quite ridiculous to assume that this tiny and meagre prison would keep the Trickster at bay after everything he had proven to be capable of. If only he wanted to, he could shatter that glass with but a flick of his wrist or break the heavy metal door posing as the only barrier between you.
If you were to just… unlock that door to touch him… it would be so easy. Blinking rapidly, you shook your head to chase the thought away.
“Who are you?” He asked and for just a brief moment, you believed to see genuine interest and curiosity sparkling in his stunning blue eyes.
“No one, really. You already know my name, I presume but that’s all there is. I’m not special—I mean, I don’t have superpowers. I’m just a regular human with a rare condition.”
“Oh, I see. Surely you had not hoped for a criminal of all people to be your soulmate then? A murderer? A monster?” His expression hardened.
Yes. But you were not going to tell him that. He was still the person to have made you see colours again, regardless of who he was and what he had done. There must have been a connection between you, you felt it after all! And you were certain that he felt it too.
“Thor will take me back to Asgard and the great King Odin,” he continued, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “will surely have me executed. You will never see me again. So do not worry.”
“I don’t want that.” You finally chirped, barely daring to look him in the eye. His gaze was scrutinising and intimidating… almost as if he was able to see right into your soul with but one single glance.
Loki frowned.
“I bet you’re not happy about this, are you?” A desperate scoff escaped your lips. “I’m not sure I am…” You confessed and sat down on the chair in front of the window. It creaked a little under your weight, the unpleasant sound echoing through the empty hallway.
This man right in front of you was not be trusted and yet, the desire to pour your heart out to him was so strong you felt it like a sea of emotions attempting to drown you.
“You know ever since my twelfth birthday I wondered when I would finally meet my soulmate. Who they would be, what they would be like… and then so many years passed I was beginning to worry I might never see colours again. That I’d be alone and grey for the rest of my life.”
Loki licked his lips and glanced up at you, listening intently to every single word you said.
“Now I met you and they all tell me not to trust you. I mean… I know who you are, I know what you’ve done. I can’t say I’m happy about the fact my soulmate is…” You stopped yourself, breathing in sharply. “What was the universe thinking? You are a god and I’m just… me. We live light-years apart!”
Eventually, after a moment of surprisingly pleasant silence between you, Loki hummed. “The Norns do have interesting ways.” He said, locking his eyes with yours, almost as if he was pondering if… if what? If he could imagine being with you?
“So what should we do? Never speak of it again? Pretend we have never met? I can’t just… come to Asgard with you.” You held your breath when you realised what you were considering here. Loki must have thought the same. He smirked in response—not mockingly but bitterly. “Odin would never allow a mortal on Asgard. If I was to survive my trial, that is.”
“Don’t say that. I don’t care you’re a criminal right now, I just found my soulmate, and I don’t want to lose him again right away, regardless of what happens between us.”
With a start, his face fell. “Nothing will happen between us. That would be unnecessarily cruel, would it not? Your life in the nine realms is but a heartbeat compared to mine.”
“So… this is goodbye?”
Loki hesitated. You noticed by the way his lips slightly parted without a single sound escaping them just yet.
“Yes. This is goodbye.”
-
The fruit bowl had become your new best friend. In the morning, tired and rather absent, you sat at the kitchen table holding on to a steaming mug of coffee all the while studying the different colours of the fruit before you like a complicated Maths formula.
“Did you have a good chat last night?” Clint barked at you when he entered the room, skipping the ‘Good morning’.
“Huh?”
“With Loki?” He probed, raising his eyebrows in an I-already-know-what-you’ve-done manner.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You said, shaking your head and focusing your gaze on the fruit bowl again. Yellow bananas, green grapes, red apples. In colour.
You flinched when Tony spoke your name. “We saw the footage on our security cameras. You sneaked to his cell last night knowing fully well why you should stay away from him, especially with… with… you know.”
Fuck… the security cameras. You had completely forgotten about those! Of course the legendary Tony Stark would have had security cameras installed all over the damn place!
Busted, you shrugged your shoulders as nonchalantly as you could muster. “I just wanted to talk him. I had to talk to him. I know what you’re all thinking—that he’s evil and brutal and cruel and ruthless… and… and you’re probably right? I… I don’t even know but… he is still my soulmate. I can see colours again because of him for Fuck’s sake! I can’t just… ignore that.”
“I get it. We don’t know what it must feel like. But it’s for the best. We don’t want him to hurt you.”
“I am his soulmate, too. He wouldn’t dare hurt me. You know maybe he’s not the monster you all think he is.”
“Are you saying that because you know him so well after last night or because that is what you want to believe?”
Both. “I just… have a feeling.”
“Right.” Tony clapped his hands. Your name left his lips almost like a plea. “You have to trust us.”
Thor nodded. “Loki is dangerous. You should stay away from him at least until we know he is not still plotting the domination of your planet.”
“What do you mean ‘at least until’? You can stop staying away from him when he’s back on Asgard and out of your reach.” Tony snapped.
“We’re just trying to keep you safe.” Steve intervened. You sighed.
“You know what? I’m getting a headache and I’m still tired, so I’m gonna go back to bed.” That wasn’t even a lie—well, at least the fatigue bit wasn’t. Besides, the blackout curtains in the room Tony let you stay in were heaven-sent.
That was until a loud tumult in the Tower woke you up again, even though you were not sure anymore you had actually fallen asleep once your head hit the soft pillow.
“W—“ Your scream of protest was muffled by a cool palm covering your mouth. You struggled briefly, ripping your eyes wide open in a weak attempt to make out who was assaulting you in the comforting darkness of your room when you suddenly heard a soothing voice shushing you.
“It’s me…”
“L-Loki?” You choked out when he removed his hand again. “Did you… did you break out of your cell?”
“It would seem so. Come.”
“What?”
He tilted his head. “I don’t have much time.”
You stood, throwing the covers back when he already reached for your hand and held it tightly, pulling you with him into the hallway and towards one of the more hidden exists of Stark Tower, a flight of stairs illuminated only by emergency lights.
“W-what are you doing?”
“I am proving to you that I am more than just a criminal.”
“Oh… but… um… where are we going?”
Loki smirked. Your eyes widened when he pulled out the Tesseract seemingly out of nowhere, its blue light glowing brightly in the dark and throwing artistic shadows on his face.
“Hold on tight.”
“Loki…”
The God of Mischief pulled you close, making you gasp. Your chest hit his, his arm wrapping around your waist. With his face only inches from yours, you could feel his warm breath on your lips, and suddenly longed to kiss him.
“You are my soulmate. I am not leaving you behind.”
“What happened to ‘goodbye’?” You chirped.
Loki tilted his head almost threateningly. “You are mine. Don’t you think I wanted to leave this place without looking back?” His expression softened. “But I couldn’t. Because of you.” And you might just be the only woman to ever love me in this way, he added silently.
“B-but… Y-you said Odin will never allow me on Asgard and… and…”
“I never said we were going to Asgard, now was I?”
Your lips parted. Could you trust him? The stranger who had finally made you see colours again? If you told him No, would he let go of you? Would he let you run to Tony and Clint and Nat so they could protect you from him? Swallowing thickly, you met his intense blue gaze and nodded.
Loki smirked and winked. “You are in for an adventure.” And you knew he wasn’t lying. Next thing you knew, you were both hurtled through space and into a shared future.
-
A/N: ☕
#loki#loki imagine#loki x reader#loki x female reader#loki x you#loki laufeyson#loki laufeyson imagine#loki laufeyson x reader#loki laufeyson x female reader#loki laufeyson x you#loki odinson#loki odinson imagine#loki odinson x you#loki odinson x reader#loki odinson x female reader#thor#thor imagine#the avengers#the avengers imagine#mcu#mcu imagine#marvel#marvel imagine#tom hiddleston
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can I request a lil something? during the end of the manga or after the timeskip if you haven't read it yet, reiner still has feelings for historia and reader has one-sided feelings for him.
pieck gives reiner a small hint, saying he's wasting time while there's someone close to him that cares for him and points to you. he doesn't understand at first and maybe is conflicted about his feelings for you because of historia. reader is cool about it as she doesn't expect him to reciprocate her feelings.
a rollercoaster of emotions later, maybe there is a happy ending tho? i am curious to see what you can come up with 😭😭 i have dreaming of this scenario before bed and i can't help but get jealous of his crush on historia abjdsndks maybe you can help reiner reciprocate reader-chan's feelings or not
thank u so much aly 💖🥺
reciprocation
pairing: reiner braun x reader
a/n: OMG yesss! honestly, i was kinda annoyed at how reiner still had a crush on historia. i know that isayama wanted to show how everything went back to normal, but i was hoping that reiner would have a bigger role in the allied nations instead of being "dumbed down" to having an obsession with her. MAYBE THATS JUST THE JEALOUSY SPEAKING LMAO 😭 i was hoping this would be longer, although school has been killing me so im really sorry!! i hope its okay 💗💕 thank you honey!
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as reiner is handed historia’s letter, you fold your hands on the table and watch him without a word. when he reads the lines and smells the parchment - jean saying something snarky afterward - you say nothing.
you want reiner to be happy: you want to see him at ease like this more, face soft as the leaf of the page flits from his pinched fingers.
and so you let the man speak about historia like she’s a damn goddess, gushing over her handwriting, and keep your goddamn mouth shut. ignore your jealousy. your feelings.
the truth is, you’re in love with reiner.
you can’t even remember how it happened, but you can remember the first time you looked into those hazel eyes, and how you knew that they were going to stick with you for eternity.
you’ve come to accept his crush on the queen, though. reciprocation was never an option in your mind.
when jean begins to chew reiner out for lusting after a married woman, and reiner says something about jean being a horse, pieck’s gaze lands on you. “you’re rather quiet,” she says softly, resting her head on her palm.
you shrug, turning away from her. “i’m just tired.”
pieck catches your chin between her lithe fingers, and turns you to face her with a tiny smile. the young woman is very perceptive, and you’ve known her long enough.
that’s when you notice the twinkle in her eye. she’s planning something.
pieck releases your jaw then, sitting up in her chair. “you’re wasting your time, reiner,” she says suddenly. “there’s already someone you know who cares for you.”
you pretend to not hear pieck - and definitely pretend you don’t see her faintly point at you through your peripheral. the movement of her fingers is barely there, but you catch it.
damn you, pieck.
the way you’re now pinned underneath armin, jean, connie, and reiner’s stares makes your stomach tie itself into knots with bubbling reluctance. shit, this is awkward. you want to run away.
still, you peer over to study reiner’s reaction. he looks confused at first, the contours of his face unreadable. you swear you see connie facepalm at the man’s cluelessness.
then reiner’s expression slowly changes: his eyes widen in awe, lips parting slightly, and brows knitting together. he seems genuinely surprised - and conflicted.
conflicted? why?
there’s no time to explain yourself though, because the door creaks open and annie steps in. her words fall on your deaf ears, and when everyone stands up to leave, you’re the first one out of the room. work beckons you as always.
two days pass.
you’ve been busy filling out tons of paperwork pertaining to the allied nations, so when you’re finally given a day off, you take it with open arms.
freedom at last.
you lean against a bench outside of headquarters, enjoying the salty breeze that flutters along your skin. it’s dusk, the sky covered in a gradient of neon colors as the sun dips below the horizon.
you haven’t seen reiner since that day in the conference room. you wonder how he’s doing, what he’s thinking, how he’s holding up -
“hey.”
speak of the devil. you glance over your shoulder toward the voice, low and familiar.
reiner approaches you, clad in his uniform: the suit hugs his large frame perfectly, showing every flex of his muscles, and his blonde hair is neatly parted. the black tie looped around his neck just pulls it all together. it has you weak at the knees every. single. time.
“hey,” you answer, giving reiner a smile as he stops beside you.
and that’s when your heart lurches at the sight of him.
the sunset highlights reiner’s profile in gold, a heavenly shine that settles upon his blonde lashes and the flawless slope of his nose. the flecks in his irises sparkle – a beautiful mixture of soft browns and muted greens. the only thing you can do right now is admire the man.
his words are what breaks you out of your daydream.
“work has been crazy lately, huh?” reiner says, focused on the candy-floss clouds and their fluffy shapes.
“well - yeah, pretty much. i don’t want to look at a pen or a piece of paper ever again.”
“that bad?”
“you have no idea. i almost regret marley and paradis reconciling.”
reiner chuckles gently at the joke, but it’s strained. his forehead remains creased, and he’s not really smiling. the emotion there is more … doubtful. it’s like he’s having some sort of inner conflict.
hopefully reiner’s not acting cautious because of the other day. you know he doesn’t return your feelings, and that’s totally okay. you’re happy enough being with him like this. “i’m not mad or anything, y’know.”
reiner stiffens at that. there’s a white flash of teeth when he chews on his lower lip. “i know.”
“good,” you hum, breathing out a sigh of relief. your core twists with envy when you force a grin. bite it back. tease him like always. “so about historia … ”
reiner’s eyes go wide almost comically, and you hear the breath in his lungs leave his firm chest in one exhale. there’s a light blush staining his cheeks now. it’s funny; he’s so goddamn big, yet he’s such a teddy bear.
“y-yeah,” reiner mutters. you observe the way his brows pinch together as he awkwardly shifts in place. it takes a while before the man composes himself again, which is strange.
is he scared or something? what the hell?
“pieck,” reiner hesitates for a moment. the golden strands of his hair ruffle in the wind and he appears ... well, lost. “was she being serious?”
the question is a shocker - jeez, he could have at least let you prepare yourself. a firm ‘no’ almost slips out, but you’ve never been much of a liar. not to reiner, anyway. crossing your arms against your chest, you inhale sharply and nod. avoid staring at him face-to-face. “yep.”
“ … why me?”
reiner says the words with a mixture of spite and anguish, a casual and rumbling voice. you immediately turn your head, frowning. “what?”
“i’ve done so many horrible things.” reiner exhales heavily and stares down at his hands; perhaps he’s imagining all the blood they’ve been stained with. “i betrayed everyone. i killed innocent people - all because i was selfish.”
it’s no surprise that reiner is broken after everything he’s been through, but it pains you to know that he continues to suffer in silence. whatever war is raging inside his ribcage tears him apart piece by piece, and you wish you could carry the burden.
there’s probably nothing you can say to convince reiner that he was just a kid, a victim of circumstance. there’s nothing that can persuade him to see himself the way you do.
so you decide to tell reiner why you love him.
you explain the amount of admiration you hold for him. tell him that you love the way he just wants to be someone his comrades can lean on, like a big brother. tell him that you think he’s the most gorgeous person you’ve ever seen and how you think he deserves the world.
the way you spill your guts out snaps every nerve in your body. you don’t say everything you want to – but you tell him enough. a dark flush spreading across your face, you find the courage to look at him.
the world seems to stop on its axis when you find reiner staring right on back. the intensity of his eyes is stunning; they’re lit up with astonishment and affection.
god, the affection. you see it clear as day. maybe one of the greatest regrets in his life is how he forced himself to see you only as a friend.
that’s when he reaches out to you.
reiner retracts his hand twice, unsure, before slowly brushing his fingertips against yours. the touch is so feather-light that you almost can’t feel it. it’s a test - he’s waiting to see if you pull away. you can’t even move if you wanted to, because his fond gaze keeps you rooted to the spot before him.
when you don’t recoil, reiner finally moves to gently hold your hand; his palm is so much bigger than yours, and your fingers slot together perfectly, like a jigsaw puzzle’s final piece.
heart thrumming like a hummingbird has been stuffed into your chest, you’re almost at a loss for words and come to a realization.
this utterly amazing man likes you. always has.
but reiner shoved away the feelings for one simple reason; you deserved ‘better.’ focusing on the old crush he had on historia was a distraction - an attempt to convince himself to stop thinking about you.
because looking at you everyday and not being able to act upon his feelings was too painful.
“is this okay?” reiner asks lowly. there’s a slight pinkness to his cheeks, the color of a selfless love.
by some miracle, you manage to nod dumbly. “yeah, of course. it’s fine.” it’s amazing is what you actually want to say.
reiner squeezes your hand at the reassurance, a sigh escaping from his throat. “i really—”
you wait for him to finish, but he doesn’t. reiner just searches your profile for signs of discomfort, and then untwines your hands to bravely swipe a thumb along the length of your cheekbone.
there’s no time to speak because he’s already leaning down.
the sensation of reiner’s lips pressing against yours lights your skin ablaze; you can feel the curling flames of passion sear your soul, made even more intense by the warmth of the sunlight on your back.
it’s natural, it’s tender, it’s warm.
reiner’s breath rattles into your mouth when you rest both palms against his solid chest and deepen the kiss. the musky smell of his aftershave and cologne envelops you completely, and fuck, it’s so good. your arms wrap around him, fingers passing over the sharp slopes of his shoulder blades.
as much as you wish the kiss could go on endlessly, there are people gathering outside. avoiding any unwanted attention from nosy strangers is very much appreciated.
you pull away to nuzzle your nose into reiner, and he rests his chin on your shoulder, protective arms moving to loop around your waist. it’s such an intimate caress that it sparks your brain into overdrive.
as the rushing sound of the breeze comes back to your ears through the quiet, you tuck the kiss away to be remembered forever. that’s all there is to it. being close to reiner like this - swaying together like wildflowers in the wind - is more important than anything else.
“i like you,” reiner murmurs.
the suddenness of it makes you laugh, and you can feel the upward quirk of reiner’s lips - a whisper of a peaceful smile and a sweet, sweet promise.
#timeskip reiner still sexy asf#I just wanna hug and kiss him ugh#reiner braun x reader#reiner x reader#aot x reader#attack on titan fanfiction#snk x reader#reiner braun#reiner x you#attack on titan#shingeki no kyojin
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So, I noticed you write for Peter Pettigrew,,, I was wondering if you could write something for him and a female s/o? Where he has to introduce his incredibly shy, Hufflepuff s/o to the other Marauders. Bonus points if she’s short, like 4’11-5’0. You can ignore this if you’d prefer not to write it. Have a wonderful day.
i will always write for my baby. your wish is my command. also sorry if this isn’t what you were imagining!
Young!Peter Pettigrew x fem!reader
summary: For days Peter had been non-stop talking to his friends about his girlfriend and for the life of them, they could never catch him with her. Peter hated getting bothered by them as much as he did so to put them at ease, he arranges an introduction.
word count: 2,307
warning: swearing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The hallways of Hogwarts were ones of great architecture and historic stories that the many portraits of old witches and wizards absolutely loved to talk and brag about. Students and ghosts alike walked along the corridors every day without really admiring it apart from when statues liked to jump out at them or portraits grabbed their attention with things varying from manic laughter to noisy singing. It truly was a work of art.
It looked like somewhere royals or people in high society back in the olden days would come to stay for their Honeymoon or just for a small change of scenery and no matter how strict the rules, how tidy the uniforms or how high the expectations, students definitely did not act as tidy or as civilised as a royal or a lady or lord would do.
A prime example would be groups of rowdy teenage boys thinking insulting innocent bystanders or making creepy comments about a girls body would be a proper thing to do in a hallway as grand as the ones in Hogwarts. Another example would be the much rowdier, much more irresponsible pranksters of Hogwarts that rivalled against the other boys in witty comments or just funny circumstances.
You often rolled your eyes at their work or mutter quietly about them under your breath when they passed, practically yelling for the whole corridor to hear unless they were about to pull a prank and whispering which is where you would normally make your leave from that particular corridor. But they seemed to be everywhere you went and you didn’t see why until a particular member of the group approached you in the Kitchens one night when you were getting your midnight snack from the house elves.
He said he liked you which made you look around for maybe a sign of the other boys in wonder if this was some sort of prank. But it wasn’t and he...actually liked you. It definitely didn’t escape your notice that the boy was one of the quiet ones and seemed to be holding his breath when he confessed. Sadly, the confession was right before the summer so all you could do was send letters over the holidays which were slightly awkward.
More so when you returned to school and found yourself glancing at each other from across the hallways before you turned and scurried off in another direction after smiling. Then he began to join you on your midnight snack journeys which developed into a beautiful relationship full of blushes, grins and soft, gentle kisses stolen before you had to separate.
Pranks your way were avoided and you were practically living in bliss until he proposed that he wanted you to meet his friends. As in the rowdy ones, as in the ones that get all the good scores no matter how hard you try and the ones that always disrupt your reading time in the library.
It was safe to say that you were nervous because you were nothing like them, loud noises weren’t your thing and you’d much prefer to curl up next to the Black Lake with a book in your hand then join the group of boys in the Great Hall where they probably threw food at each other and if someone else's food ever touched you, you felt like you might be sick. Not to mention the fact that all of them are giants compared to you.
“They are going to love you.” Peter promised, his grip on your hand tight as he tried to drag you down the hallway whilst you planted your feet firmly to the ground. For someone so small, he was amazed at how much you can resist his pull.
“They’re going to hate me.” You argued back attempting to pull him the other way but definitely not succeeding. “I’m awkward and lonely and weird and obsessed with bees which is definitely not normal.”
“It’s cute.” He chuckled, giving up on his pulling but being pulled towards you by your grip when he had given up. You stumbled but he grabbed you arms and stabilised you before you could fall forward and hit the floor. “You’re cute.”
“I am not like them.” You took yourself out of his arms with a mutter, frowning slightly whilst Peter frowned too. “They’re loud and you’ve been friends with them forever and I’m just new. If they don’t like me then we’re gonna...”
“I’m not gonna break up with you if they don’t like you.” Peter shook his head and stepped close, his hand reaching down to tilt your chin up so he was looking down into your eyes. “They’ll love you...I promise.”
“I’m just nervous, I’ve never even thought of being friends with them. They’re just so loud and I...I’m quiet and shy and I stick my face in a book every time they come near me. I just know that they’ll find me weird, Peter.” You covered your face with you hands, shaking your head.
“Oh, baby...” He wrapped his arms around you in a hug and you welcomed it gratefully, hopefully he would listen to you...but no, Peter lifted you up and put you easily over his shoulder as you yelped and kicked your legs. “Come on.”
“Peter, no, please.” You begged as he walked down the corridor with you over his shoulders and consequently receiving a lot of stares which you shyly leant your head on his back to try and get rid of the stares. You were just happy that it was the weekend and you were wearing jeans instead of a skirt. “Pete, please put me down.”
“Not until we’re at the hall and you see how excited they are to meet you.” He laughed as you groaned at him and nuzzled your head into his back as you turned a corner. Your palms were beginning to get sweaty and you felt your breathing pick up slightly at you nervousness.
“Peter, seriously.” Your voice had retreated to a small murmur, no longer were you joking around. You really didn’t think that his friends would like you, they were confident and charming and you were reserved, flustered easily and talked about bees all the time. Hell, in the summer you were in an environmental protest against pollution whilst they were probably having fun swimming somewhere.
“You’ll be fine, angel. We’re here.” He said and slowly lowered you from his shoulder, you nervously glanced around when you noticed you were outside the Great Hall and you looked into it to see the familiar three boys sat at the Gryffindor Table. “Hey.” You looked at Peter again. “I’ll be right there with you. They may be tall and slightly intimidating but they’re nice.”
“Sirius once spilt tea on my book and didn’t apologise.”
“He’s an energetic guy, he probably didn’t notice.” Peter tilted his head and you nodded in acceptance, pursing your lips. When he did it, you didn’t confront him and just moved away mumbling under your breath and shaking out your book. “Ready?”
You hesitated as he took your hand and started walking into the Great Hall, dragging you behind him with a small grin on his face.
“No.” You finally answered, gulping and stepping closer to Peter as you got closer to the three boys flinging pieces of bread at each other.
“Too slow.” Peter grinned back at you, tugging you along and you whined, deciding to catch up to him but walk behind him in an attempt to hide from the others. You were there in no time and tucked yourself behind Peter, hoping that your size would prevent you from being seen. “Hey boys, since you’ve been asking...here she is.”
You only heard silence as you stayed behind Peter, gulping nervously.
“I fucking knew she was imaginary, I called it.” The voice of Sirius Black came from in front of Peter before he exclaimed in pain after sounding like he was being hit with something.
Out of curiosity, you tried to peak out from behind your boyfriends shoulder as little as possible but a pair of soft brown eyes met yours instead and you found yourself frozen in place as you stared straight at Remus Lupin and he raised his eyebrows at you. You slowly went back behind Peter, knowing it was stupid because he’d seen you but you did it anyway, raised eyebrows could mean a million different things.
“She’s not imaginary, Padfoot, she’s just behind him.” Remus said and you shut your eyes in regret as your forehead fell forward and hit Peter’s back whilst he moved out of the way and you were faced with three pairs of eyes staring up at you. “Hi, I’m Remus.”
“James.”
“Sirius, but you can call me anytime.”
Peter took a daily prophet off of the table and hit him on the head with it as Sirius laughed and raised his hands in defence, you smiled awkwardly at it and avoided all eye contact. Your hand squeezed Peter’s slightly and he looked between you and his friends, frowning again.
“This is Y/N L/N, my girlfriend.” He introduced and gestured you forward slightly, you glanced up and gave a small wave at them. James was smiling at you, Remus was smiling only a little bit but mainly just examining you and Sirius narrowed his eyes at you before standing.
He towered over you and you gulped as you tilted your head up and his grey eyes examined you with a small smirk tugging at his lips. You backed up slightly, Peter’s hand on the small of your back as he stroked soft circles with his thumb. You continued to avoid eye contact.
“You are tiny.” He stated and you nodded with a small clear of your throat, your eyes trained to the floor. “Well, to me you are. I’m sure Pete has an easier time since he’s tiny too.”
“5′9 is not tiny.” Peter defended and Sirius snorted, sitting back down at his chair as you breathed out in slight relief and stood awkwardly for a second.
“Take a seat if you like, we don’t bite.” James smiled and you about to tell him that it was okay and you didn’t actually want to be there anywhere but Peter nodded encouragingly at you and you sat opposite Lupin, Peter sitting next to you and putting an arm around your waist to let you know that he was there and close.
“So how did you two meet?” Remus asked, biting a bit of his sandwich as James nodded from next to him, both of their gazes were on you and you could feel Sirius staring at you too.
You thought Peter was going to answer so you looked up at him but he was looking at you too, nodding his head and he gave your waist a quick squeeze. You gulped and turned your head back around, eyes trained to the table.
“Well, uh, I was getting...a snack at night and then he, uh, came in and yeah...yeah.” You mumbled, clearing your throat slightly and looking up at the boys before back at the table and then back up at the boys. Your hands were fidgeting together under the table and your knee was bouncing.
“You snuck all the way to the kitchens at night without getting caught?” James widened his eyes as he looked around at his friends and you glanced up, back down again and then up one more time.
“Well, I’m a- I’m a Hufflepuff so my common room is uh...right next to the kitchens.” You nodded slowly.
“Useful.” Sirius said and you glanced at him quickly, furrowing your eyebrows at his narrowed eyes as he looked at you.
“I-I don’t understand...useful for what?” You looked around at them all nervously, Sirius was the one to answer so you looked at him again and found him smirking down at you.
“Pranks.” He shrugged his shoulders, grinning and you gulped again, nodding and smiling awkwardly as you turned your head to Peter who smiled again and rubbed his hand on your waist. “So, Y/N my tiny friends tiny girlfriend, what do you like to do?”
“I’m uh, I’m a passionate advocate for environmental change.” You said, nodding as your eyes found comfort on the table once more. Glancing up once, you caught Remus’ smile as he looked at you and you awkwardly smiled back. “I like to read, anything really no genres. I love exploring different cultures and uh...I like bees.”
“Bees?” James furrowed his eyebrows with a grin as he leaned forward and you nodded awkwardly. “That’s adorable.”
“Why do you like bees?” Sirius laughed. “Is it because they’re yellow and black like your tie?”
“Well, almost 90% of wild plants and 75% of leading global crops depend on animal pollination so they do a lot for us and they look nice on the flowers in my garden.” You said and glanced up to them all smiling at you.
“I’ll have to see your garden sometime.” James mentioned and your eyes snapped over to him as your fidgeting hands slowed down but your knee kept bouncing. “I love flowers. Especially Lilies.”
The boys all laughed and even you managed to crack a small smile at James’ infamous crush on Gryffindor Lily Evans. You felt Peter’s hand squeeze your hip slightly and you looked over at him, your eyes managing to lock in comparison to how you avoided the rest of their gazes. You were sure that your cheeks were flushed at the attention you got but Peter only smiled and kissed your cheek as you scrunched your face up with an adorable smile in his opinion.
“I told you they’d love you.” He whispered into your ear, kissing your cheek again before you both directed your attention back to Sirius’ talking.
#peter pettigrew#peter pettigrew imagine#peter pettigrew x reader#the marauders#the marauders imagine#the marauders x reader#Remus Lupin#Sirius Black#James Potter
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request from @tyongf-sunflower99 ; Hiii how are u? <3 I'd like to request a mafia or racer thing for haechan or jeno? Like fluffy and lightly suggestive (if it's okay!) Idk much about the plot but I trust you 💗thank you un advance!!
thankyou for the request! i’ve chosen racer jeno hehe, i hope you enjoy it!!
racer!jeno + female reader (intended but can be read as gender neutral if ‘princess’ is omitted!)
word count: 1.4k
warnings: overuse of ‘princess’ — lots and lots of fluff, gets suggestive towards the end tho
//
“i can’t believe your parents let you come out tonight” jaemin teased as he walked closely behind you.
“you really think i asked for their permission?” you snickered in response, halting your movements once you reached the start line.
“that jeno kid really rubbed off on you” you gulped are the mention of his name. it was no secret that you and jeno had been ‘hanging out’ the past few weeks. it all started when you accompanied jaemin to one of these street races. personally, you had no interest in it, but when you caught the eye of the striking lee jeno, everything changed. he approached you first, charming you with his smooth words. it didn’t take long for him to capture your attention. the only issue was, you weren’t sure if it was just a friendship, or leading to something more.
“oh be quiet, he does NOT have an impact on me” you rolled your eyes, moving to scam the crowd, waiting for jeno to come in sight.
“keep telling yourself that” jaemin smirked, nudging your arm, causing you to turn back to him. before you could say anything, the person you were looking for, happened to be right next to your friend. you jaw was slightly ajar, you hoped he hadn’t eavesdropped on the prior conversation.
“evening, princess” jeno’s deep voice make your ears perk up. okay, maybe he did have an impact on you.
“h-hey” jaemin took it as his cue to leave, patting your shoulder softly, mumbling about going to grab a snack (to be honest, you honestly weren’t even listening)
“here to watch me again?” jeno stepped closer to you, making your breath hitch.
“i-well yes? i mean isn’t everyone else here for the same reason?” you try to play it off, making jeno chuckle softly at your rambling. he found you completely and utterly irresistible.
“that hurts me, princess. i really hoped you had come for me” he slightly pouted. you quickly moved to touch his arm gently,
“i did!” you blurted out, shutting your eyes in embarrassment. jeno moves his hand to hover over yours, that was on his arm.
“that’s what i wanted to hear” he muttered, rubbing his thumb over the surface of your hand. you finally looked up at him, your eyes meeting his glistening ones. he always liked looking into your eyes, there was something so comforting and innocent about them.
“i have to get ready soon, but meet me here when i’m finished?” he continued to hold your hand in his. it felt so natural.
“yeah of course” you nodded, feeling his hand slip out of yours, which made your heart sink. he sent you a quick smirk before he made his way to his car. jaemin snuck up behind you with a packet of chips in his hand.
“oh you’re whipped” you elbow his side, snatching the chips from him as he groaned in pain.
maybe you were whipped for jeno.
//
once jeno’s car passed the finish line, everyone started cheering. despite his cocky attitude when it comes to racing, he always performs. that was something else you liked about him. from the few times you hung out alone, he seemed to be off in his own world. he was always zoning out or mumbling about something random. you loved hearing whatever he had to say, which made him immediately comfortable with you.
his eyes were searching the crowd once he exited his car. despite being met with multiple people congratulating him, his main focus was you.
you timidly made your way towards him, struggling to pass the crowd. suddenly, you felt someone grip your wrist, pulling you towards them. you felt yourself slam into the figure in question.
“thought i was going to lose you, princess” jeno couldn’t wipe the smile off his face, you actually waited.
“i don’t break my promises” you gleamed, feeling instantly shy.
“wanna get out of here?” you nodded, rushing to the passenger side of his car. you also decided to sent jaemin a quick text, you knew he was going to tease you the following day, so you muted him before he could respond.
“sorry it was a bit crazy out there” he apologised, starting the engine of the car.
“it’s alright, i mean, i guess you’re famous”
he scoffed,
“highly doubt it. they’re just happy they’re getting money from betting on me” he shrugged, looking over at you to make sure you were all buckled up. this wasn’t the first time you had been in his car, but he could get used to this sight.
“where to, princess?”
“anywhere...as long as it’s with you” that caught him off guard. jeno didn’t get flustered easily, but you always hit a weak spot in him.
“the things you do to me” he muttered loud enough for you to hear. you chose not to respond, feeling heat rise to your ears. jeno slowly made his way out of the track, now travelling along the highway.
“do you actually like racing?” you weren’t sure what conjured you to ask him that, but you were curious nonetheless. he always played down his interest for racing.
“where’s this coming from? well if i’m being honest, it’s fun. i enjoy the adrenaline and sometimes the attention. the money isn’t too bad either. but it’s not a lifelong thing, you know? just something to do while i’m young” he goes off on this whole tangent about living your life the way you want to. you wish you could relate, but you were forced to study and take as many extracurriculars you could fit into one day. you rarely had any free time to be alone.
“i wish i enjoyed something as much as you enjoy racing” you sighed, fiddling with the keychain on your purse. jeno wasn’t sure how to respond. he turned to park at a random field, a singular street lamp hovering over the car, allowing you to see him a bit better.
“you’ll figure it out soon. i’m sure if it. you’re amazing like that, princess” jeno smiled softly, moving his fingers to brush against yours. you sensed he was slightly nervous, linking your fingers with his in response.
“i really like hanging out with you, jeno” you whisper slightly, pulling your face closer to his.
“i really like hanging out with you too. it honestly feels like you’re keeping me sane” he chuckled, moving so that there was a tiny gap between your lips.
“if i kissed you right now, would you kiss me back?”
“only one way to find out” and with that, jeno presses his lips to yours. at first it was quite gentle, his lips were definitely softer than you had imagined. his hand moved to graze over the side of your neck, resting it there as he continued kissing you. you placed your hands on the sides of his face, allowing his tongue to enter your mouth with ease. part of you wanted him to drive you home and continue this in your bed, but the thought of your parents catching you with a boy in your room had you shaking.
jeno pulled away first, his lips still close enough to brush against yours.
“you don’t understand what you do to me. being with you, it’s like a breath of fresh air. i cant really explain it” he wanted you to know how much he truly cared for you, before you went any further.
you pressed another kiss to his lips before trailing down his neck. jeno felt his breath hitch, his hands now balled into fists. this was only something he dreamed about, he didn’t think it would ever happen.
“you’re too good to me” he sighed, softly stroking your hair as you continued kissing his neck. you weren’t sure what came over you, but hearing him praise you, made you feel good.
“wanna take this to the back seat? only if you’re comfortable of course” he offered. you quickly made your way to the back, pulling him to hover on top of you. without another word, you continued making out. you let his hand rest on your waist, gently rubbing your sides as he kissed your neck. you softly whimpered every time he brushed over a sensitive spot. it made him more eager to make you feel good.
“jeno, be my boyfriend” you said in between kisses, making him smile against your lips. it’s as if he had been waiting for those words to leave your mouth, the moment you met him.
“i haven’t wanted anything more”
the rest of the night consisted of more kissing, more groping and a lot of compliments being exchanged. at the end of the day, you were able to score yourself a street racing boyfriend...now let’s hope your parents won’t be too mad.
#lee jeno#nct dream imagines#nct jeno imagines#jeno imagine#jeno fluff#nct dream fluff#nct dream au#nct au#nct imagines#jisungsmochi masterlist#jisungsmochiimagines
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The Goddess' Blessing (of a daughter)
Chapter One
(NOTES: the raylla adopts Tiffany fic everyone's been asking for
this is going on AO3 once I get home from my sister's but I wanted to post here first. If you'd rather read it there follow me and I'll post once it's officially in there.
Obs: Tiffany is six in this. Mostly because I wanted to write our witch moms carrying their baby and canonically she's like ten so..... and she's also like severely traumatized. We'll get to the healing soon enough though.
+ Edwin is the best papa. And Scylla has p much already adopted this kid, she just doesn't know it yet.
It's half past six p.m when their train screeches to a halt at the Chippewa station. In all the chaos of the last couple of weeks, Scylla hadn't realized Yule was well on it's way. It is still mid November, but the station has been prematurely decked in civilian Christmas decorations, and almost every wall and corner twinkles in golden speckles and fake pine.
Tiffany had been dozing in and out of sleep on the bench next to her, holding tight to her stuffed parrot as well as Scylla's coat sleeve with her restless small hands that spasmed in pure energy even as she slept. Since coming back from Nicte's mission, Scylla had been in a frenzy to get everything ready for their trip, and Tiffany had followed her around the (no longer safe) safe house, clinging on to her attention with wide blue eyes. She'd always liked kids. Before everything happened Scylla even used to babysit for dodger families.
It was never a lot of money, but she appreciated the levity and humor kids carried. They had hope Scylla prayed she could one day get back. Hope that could only come from the fleeting innocence of childhood. But even then, Tiffany was special, she still had all those wonderful, bright things, and she carried them in bulk, spilling out of her tiny little hands for anyone to see.
Yet she was also touched by things so horrible Scylla sometimes shuddered awake in the dead of night, when her mind conjured up terrible nightmares of being in her place. Of being squeezed into a tiny cage, fed dog food, strung up on a stage as masked psychopaths snickered and passed around stones bigger than fists. It showed, sometimes, in how every once in a while her expression became somber and reserved. How she stopped mid-sentence, and Scylla could see the glint of tears in the corners of her eyes.
It reminded her of Raelle - Raelle, who'd sat in her bed just yesterday and snacked on the stupid expensive popcorn her mother had bought - Raelle, who also carried so much darkness behind her strong, steady demeanor - those were the parts of her Scylla couldn't help but want to protect, and as a result, those feelings also extended to Tiffany. Scylla lost a lot of people in her life, and she'd decided the day she found the child's parents that she would do whatever it took to keep her safe. Just like she wished someone might have done for her. Because that sort of hidden, desolate pain could just as well transform itself into something entirely awful if exploited the right way.
People around her start getting up from their seats, reaching to the compartments for their luggage, there aren't many of them making their way up North this time of year but they still fill the cart in humming conversations, deciding on what to do next or where to get dinner. Scylla takes this as her cue to skim her fingers through Tiffany's hair, gently nudging her awake, "Hey, T, wake up, we're here."
The little girl sits up, bleary eyed, and yawns, looking around at the commotion, "it's already Christmas?" She asks, catching a glimpse of the boisterous decorations set up outside.
"Not yet, no." Scylla chuckles, getting up from her seat to retrieve their own bags - they had everything the two could think to bring, and yet were still not much. A duffel bag for Scylla and purple backpack for Tiffany, with unicorn stickers and colorful buttons sewn to the front. Scylla had retrieved it, along with some toys and clothes, from the girl's home, "People just love decorating early."
"Oh." Tiffany quips, as Scylla helps her fit her arms into the straps of her backpack, then takes her hand in a steady grip once they are done, pulling the young girl towards the door to leave the train, "The lights are pretty!" She exclaims happily, blinking in wide eyed wonder.
Outside, November has definitely made itself known, and Scylla is glad they are both warm in their coats as the wind bites her cheeks until they turn a dark blush. She looks around for Edwin, not sure she'll recognize him from the pictures she'd seen Willa scatter around the house, but still willing to try.
For a second, in that moment, she thinks this might not have been a good idea. When Scylla agreed to it, she'd admittedly not been in her full faculties, brain too preoccupied with seeing Raelle again after so long to completely comprehend what she'd been offered.
After everything that happened, she can't help but be a little nervous to meet the father of her ex (?), the same girl she still very much loved. The girl who had run back to her in that dark forest a day before and clung onto her face until all they could breathe was each other.
If she thought too much about it, Scylla could still feel the soft, almost painful impact of her lips as Raelle knocked her off her balance and breathed fire into her chest like molten lava. It'd been so long, she almost forgot the kind of power Raelle had when she kissed. Like she was always on the verge of tasting your very soul. Their whole day back together before was so very delicate and tentative, air fizzling with electricity like the tension of a bow, pulled tight with an arrow ready to shoot.
The time they've been separated her heart was squeezed tight under an elastic band. Whenever she stopped to think, even for a minute, she could feel it taught, so very strained, reaching from the very inside of her ribs. It was there from the very start. The tightness was what propelled her diaphragm into breathing Raelle in that very first night they spent together, even if she knew she shouldn't, and then, it was what kept them orbiting around each other like their very own solar system. Never too far apart. Always wishing to be closer.
When they kissed in the clearing, hairs messy with the wild strumming of the bat just a few feet away, for the first time, she felt like the band released. The invisible string, so very tight, loosening from under her heart to extend around the both of them and wrap them in what Scylla could only describe as exhilarating, shaking relief. The touch of Raelle's cotton gloves, that she never thought she'd feel again - the taste of her lips, like blood and rain droplets and a mouthful of just her.
It left Scylla running on a high since she walked away from Raelle just the day before, in the early hours of the morning.
It's not how she hoped she'd meet Raelle's dad. Deep down, no matter how much she tried not to, Scylla had imagined herself, more than once, coming to the Cession hand in hand with the blonde fixer. In love and together, going home to meet the parents. It's bittersweet to be here with Tiffany instead, and she has to squeeze the young witch's hand slightly to ground herself from the urge to run.
To just take the child's small body in her arms and run- leave the station in lieu of a cheap motel, one with vending machines, where they could hide from the world a little longer.
When the witch looks down, however, Tiffany smiles reassuringly back at her, squeezing her hand slightly in return, and Scylla can't help the wave of affection that washes over her.
"Excuse me? Are you Scylla and Tiffany?" A voice coming from behind wakes them back from the moment, and when they turn, both come face to face with Edwin Collar.
Scylla's sure it's him. If not because he does still look quite a lot like the pictures she's seen, then because the necromancer can definitely see the telltale signs of Raelle written all over his face. It's mostly there in the kind drop of his eyelids, and the way his mouth creates tiny wrinkles of soft skin when he smiles, but it's there, nonetheless.
"Yes, we are, nice to meet you, Mr. Collar." Scylla greets, settling down her bag to shake his hand.
"Of course, it's amazing to finally meet you. Raelle talked you up a storm," he declares, chuckling proudly, "only good things, I assure."
"Oh, I'm sure I don't deserve that." She let's out, hoping it sounded more playful than it feels for her.
"Nonsense. You seem like a kind girl." The man decides, with a solemn nod, before turning to Tiffany, "and you- Tiffany, I'm very happy to have you with me this week as well, I'm sure we'll have lots of fun together."
"Thank you, Mr. Collar." The small blonde replies, half-hiding herself behind Scylla's pant leg.
"Let's go then. It's getting cold." Edwin finally declares, taking Scylla's bag from the floor without a question. The girl goes to complain, but he cuts her off before she can - "and don't fight me on this. Raelle also never let's me carry her bags, for once I'd love to help."
Scylla still wants to protest. Mostly because she feels that they have already asked so much - and she doesn't quite deserve the kindness - but he seems sincere, so she nods instead, and with the affirmative, all three begin their way to the parking lot.
"Is Raelle your friend?" Tiffany asks innocently, skipping happily over her boots.
"Uh- she- yeah, I guess you could say that."
"Well, you said we were going to a friend's dad's house." Tiffany notes. "Where is Raelle then?"
"About that-" Edwin stops in his step, "did you see her? How is she?" He asks, an uneasy tension settling over his demeanor as he studies Scylla for answers, "they told me she was alive but that was it-"
"She's okay. I saw her yesterday, she was well." The brunette assures, and that seems to send a wave of relief over the man, who breathes deeply before continuing their walk along the various cars.
"Oh, thank goodness." He sighs, "when those people took her I thought- I'm so glad she's okay."
"Yeah. We were all worried." Scylla declares. And this, she can relate to. The way he cares so much for Raelle, it spills into the very movement of his expressions. It's familiar, and it warms her heart. She decides right then that she likes Edwin.
"Did the bad people take Raelle too?" Tiffany questions, frowning in scared surprise as they reach Edwin's old truck.
Scylla sighs, not having revealed much of the mission she'd gone on the day before. She knew it'd be scary for her. Tiffany was still very much traumatized, and rightfully so, after everything she'd been through. But Tiffany was also very smart- and observant. She'd catch up eventually and Scylla feels stupid for not dealing with this before coming.
"Yeah. They tried to hurt her, but me and her other friends didn't let them." The necromancer assures, as she helps the girl into the backseat and clicks in her seatbelt, "she's okay now. We're all safe here."
"Oh- Okay." Tiffany nods, but Scylla can see the doubt shining under her eyes.
Scylla wishes she knew what to say, but words fail her, so she squeezes the girl's hand reassuringly once more, winking in what she hopes is humorous solidarity, before closing the door.
***
Raelle's house is just like she imagines- small, rustic - surrounded by a thick canopy of trees and bushes. It reminds her of the places she used to stay with her parents, scattered over random cities all over the U.S. Scylla likes it.
"It isn't much, but we always have warm dinner and pancakes in the morning." Edwin quips, humbly, as he leads the pair of witches to Raelle's room, "you can stay here. Hope it is comfortable."
"This is more than enough, Edwin." Scylla smiles gratefully, "it's too much, really. Thank you for letting us stay."
"Nonsense." He waves his hand with a half embarrassed chuckle, "It's good to have people here again. After Rae and Tally left everything feels a lot quieter." Scylla nods in agreement, as the man turns to leave the room, the two witches inside watching him carefully, "You guys should change and rest a bit- I'll call you for dinner.
Scylla thanks him, and waits until the door clicks behind his back to turn her attention to the luggage that had been settled over a random chair. The room is filled with so much Raelle, she can't help but notice the letters, pictures, memories and song lyrics, glued to every single wall, from a time before Fort Salem, before them.
The blonde used to leave notes on her dorm walls back at Fort Salem. Lots of silly things like "I'll be back after training" or "You fight people in your sleep. It's cute.". Scylla wonders if they are still there or if they've been taken by the army when she was captured. It doesn't matter anymore, the necro realizes, and she shakes her head in an effort to bring her attention back to the room.
"You should put on some pajamas." Scylla says toward Tiffany, who sat, grievously quiet, at Raelle's bed.
She looked thoughtful, in a way regular six year olds don't quite show unless they have to go through way too much. Her small, bright eyes hide barely concealed darkness as she shifts her looks everywhere but at the older witch.
Scylla sighs, finding this place - this relationship - so very painfully familiar. She'd been the scared little girl last time, feeling so very small and alone. And now, as the adult, she was definitely going to try her best not to fuck it. As difficult as it might be. The world didn't need another suffering witch.
After a few minutes of silence, Scylla realizes she was not going to get an answer, so she opens the girl's backpack and fishes out a pair of mermaid themed leggings and t-shirt, along with the small bag that carried her tooth and hair brushes along with some other toiletries. Scylla places the items by Tiffany on the mattress, kneeling in front of the young witch and studying her clear, soft little face.
"Hey. Are you feeling alright?"
"Are the bad men coming here to hurt us?" Tiffany asks, instead of a response, and Scylla frowns in worry.
"No, of course no-"
"They came and took Raelle too." Tiffany notices, tears escaping from her eyelids that Scylla dries up with her thumb, "and they hurt Miss Willa, the other kids' at the office and my mommy and daddy. What if they come here again? What if they really hurt us this time?" As the questions stumble out of her mouth, sobs begin to wreck across her throat until she's shaking, ever so slightly, with the force of her tears and heavy, panicked breathing.
Scylla sighs and rises from the ground to cuddle the girl close to her chest, squeezing tight until she can feel Tiffany's little arms squeeze her back. Scylla's afraid too - most of the time, if she allowed herself to be honest - Ever since watching Raelle leave her in that cell the year before, the girl could feel even more perfectly the path of death and destruction that marked their (the witches') way through the world.
One of the bad things about being a necro - Death didn't like not being known, and it showed itself insistently, to anyone able to notice.
"We don't know whether or not they'll come again." Scylla ends up responding, sincerely, as she squeezes her arms even tighter around the little girl, "but I won't let them hurt you, you hear me? I dealt with them before, I can deal with them again."
"No" Tiffany shakes her head, frowning up at her in teary-eyed fear, "You too. You're safe too. I don't want you to get hurt either."
"Hey." Scylla forces out a chuckle, trying to lighten up the situation for the young witch's sake, "don't be silly, ok? I'm pretty much invincible."
Tiffany doesn't laugh, her breathing having somewhat returned to normal. The girl just stares back at Scylla with a seriousness that's all too unfair, coming from a six year old, and she reaches out, her pinky finger lifted in expectation, "Pinky promise you'll be safe too? Please?"
Scylla knows she shouldn't. The truth is, she doesn't know what will happen. After their plan to capture Nicte was said and done, Scylla barely had any idea what she would be doing now. But Tiffany obviously needs the reassurance, from the way she stares ever so desperately at the necro's face.
"Okay, I pinky promise." Scylla smiles, trying to convey some calm toward the other girl as she let her pinky link with the smaller one. It seems to work, as Tiffany's expression softens and her tense posture falls, "now let's get you under a shower and into some pajamas, ok? You're a very smelly little witch right now."
"Am not!" Tiffany replies, and Scylla can't help but full on laugh this time, pulling the small girl to Raelle's bathroom as she mockingly protests.
Second chapter is almost done, just needs to be read over for mistakes. For C2, Raelle calls home, Scylla meets old dodger friends and she also has an important conversation with Edwin.
Hope you guys enjoyed!
#motherland fort salem#scylla ramshorn#raelle collar#raelle x scylla#motherland: fort salem#raylla#taylor hickson#amalia holm#mfs tiffany#tiffany mfs
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Hi! More of a question that doesn’t really relate to the story but I thought it be interesting to ask. How do you think Toga, Dabi, and Shigaraki (even Spinner since we know more about his past then Compress’s) would react to seeing the child versions of themselves? Examples such as Shigaraki seeing a little boy seeking help, Dabi seeing one who’s just trying to survive with fresh burns, or Toga seeing a little girl with a group of friends trying to fit in (or whatever scenario you think would these encounters happen.) If your not comfortable answering, that’s alright!
Well
I think we kind of got an idea of that with Shigaraki in the vestige realm in chapter 270.
Shigaraki basically relived the few good memories that stuck with him right before everything went wrong.
His face in these moments was significantly softer than normal. It was the last comforting moments he remembers having. His reaction? He basically, in a sense, forgave Hana. Because he understands kids, and remembers what it felt to be like one (also, because he never got to grow out of really being one).
But, this is interesting to think about because BNHA has this thing about using children when delivering its messages. Children are innocent. And simple^^^. They don't have any control over their lives and are entirely dependent on the adults around them to keep them safe and guide them to making the right choices, with hopes that they'll become a productive/happy/comfortable adult. Unfortunately, for the villain trio that didn't happen, and it was because of the adults in their lives that failed them when all three of them very desperately needed them the most.
I'm not gonna touch on Spinner because, even though Spinner had a tad bit of his backstory shown, he wasn't shown as a child with hopes and dreams that were crushed by the adults responsible for him. He was crushed by a discriminatory society.
Back to the little kiddos at hand--Toga, Touya, and Tenko were all three ruined by rotten adults. They were just kids that wanted to have friends and be happy, and for two out of the three, wanted to be heroes--the coolest job ever in the eyes of a kid.
Unfortunately, none of that worked out for them. They were all let down in the worst ways.
So, Shigaraki reliving some of his (good) childhood moments, well, he seemed to soften up a bit. The memories of his mother and sister weren't a deception. They loved him unconditionally. They both accepted him for who he was, a kid who wanted to be a hero.
Touya's memories of his father are all a deception, because he was born not out of love, but for his father's pointless, ridiculous, selfish dream. And he wasn't able to find any sort of comfort or refuge in his home with any of the adults. He had to rely on his younger siblings, and they weren't capable of giving him what he needed (because they were kids).
Toga, unfortunately we don't have a lot of her family's history. But we saw enough to know that her parents, the people she needed, completely outcasted her and rejected her from an extremely early age.
So I guess my answer to your question is--I think seeing their little kid selves would affect them each differently. For Shigaraki, it looked as if it brought him a tiny bit of comfort, just for a moment. I think for Touya it would be painful. All that his childhood comprised of was pining for his father's love and attention and just being denied that over and over and over again. Toga's, while we have less to go on, I think it would hurt too. She had to have been like 4 or 5 in that little memory of her holding that bird, which is kind of the age when you start really holding onto memories. So, at that young age is when it all started to go to shit for her, so I would imagine seeing her little kid self would hurt too. There couldn't have been many good memories to bring her comfort.
I want to add onto this and say that I think we'll get to see this with Shigaraki a bit more. Especially because of the kinda cliche thing BNHA went with, where the main character can *see* the pain and memories of the enemy, before learning to empathize with them. It's kind of cliche, lol, but it works because BNHA is kinda cliche/cheesey to begin with--in a good way. I love it.
Anyway, Hori made a *realm* where the characters can essentially feel each other's emotions, which is how Midoriya changed paths from wanting to fight to wanting to save. And Hori used their child selves to show us that--
--and I've said before I really expect this moment ^^ to be completed in future chapters. It's too perfect: the magical realm vestige, feeling each other's pain/emotions IN said magical realm, an alternate scenario using their child selves. It's gotta happen. Lol. Whether we'll get a moment of their current selves watching their child selves complete this moment is either or, but I do expect a bit more Baby Tenko and Baby Deku in the future.
It's been used more so with Shigaraki and Midoriya than the other two hero:villain duos, so idk if we can expect it with them. Maybe Shouto and Touya, since they're brothers after all and they grew up in the same house. I'd love to see little Shouto talk to a 13 year old Touya, but that kinda seems to be Shig's and Dek's thing. Toga and Ochacko, I doubt it'll be used for them. But we'll see.
#bnha#bnha asks#anonymous#bnha lov#bnha league of villains#boku no hero academia#shigaraki tomura#toga himiko#shimura tenko#todoroki touya#dabi#bnha dabi#dabi bnha#bnha meta#mha meta#villain trio#lov trio
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Daddy-O
“Daddy-O! Thanks for picking us up.” Charlene threw her bags of shopping into the front seat of the gleaming blue BMW before joining her friend Rachel at the back of the car.
Mr Tan just smiled at her 18 year-old daughter. He is a successful businessman but he has spent so little time on his family that his wife left him a couple of years ago. Since then, he swore to spend more time on his daughter and less time making money. So when his daughter wanted him to fetch her home from a shopping trip, he cancelled his meetings for the day and left to pick her up.
Mr Tan looked at the rear view mirror. He knew Rachel. She was one of Charlene’s shopping buddies and had been to their house several times. She looked a bit like Charlene and can easily be mistaken to be her sister or cousin. Both were about the same height of 1.7metres and spotting a slim and slender frame. They both enjoyed water sports and so both were tanned with perhaps Rachel being slightly darker with slightly larger breasts than Charlene. Their mannerisms were quite similar too. Both were now giggling at some jokes and flicking their long hair back as they threw their heads back in laughter.
“What did you buy, girls?” Mr Tan asked from the front of the car.
“New bikinis,” Charlene replied immediately. “We are having a weekend pool party so we bought new outfits. And, Daddy-O, there was this beautiful designer bag that I just got to have. It costs a bomb but I don’t think you will mind, right?”
“Of course not. Anything for my daughter,” smiled Mr Tan.
“Rachel wanted it too but she spent all her money on the bikinis. She…oh wait.” Charlene stopped talking and looked intently at the message on her handphone.
“Shucks! I forgot that we are supposed to meet our lecturer for the group project discussion today. I am going to be so screwed.” Charlene whined. “Daddy-O, can you drop me off at school?”
“Oh. Shall I accompany you to school then?” Rachel asked.
“No. That is not necessary. I will be done in about an hour or so. Why don’t you head back to my house and wait for me?” Charlene replied without looking up from texting an excuse to her study group.
A few minutes later, Mr Tan dropped Charlene off at her school. “See you later, Rachel!” Charlene shouted before closing the car door and waving a quick good-bye to her father.
Mr Tan drove back to his condominium with Rachel in his car. He had never spent time alone with Rachel before as Charlene was always around. He found her to be quite charming. They shared a couple of jokes and laughed together happily. Looking at her through the rear mirror, he realised that she was quite pretty and attractive.
Once they reached his home, he opened the door to his condominium unit and invited Rachel in. “You have been here several times. Make yourself at home.” He left the shopping bags on the sofa. “Looks like you girls have been busy cleaning up the shops,” he smiled. “There are drinks in the fridge. Help yourself.”
Rachel went into the kitchen while Mr Tan sat down in on the sofa and switched on the television. He was feeling a little tired. “Do you want me to get you something, Uncle?” Rachel called from the kitchen.
“Oh, thanks! Can you get me a beer?” Mr Tan called out, surfing for a good Netflix movie.
He heard a Rachel coming out of the kitchen with two cans of beer in her hand. She set a can on the table and opened the other. The beer foamed out of the can, leaving a trail on the side of the can. Rachel instinctively licked the side of the can, stretching her pink tongue over the can. She pursed her lips and sipped off the excess beer. Mr Tan found that extremely erotic and his cock got hard, making an uncomfortable dent in his pants.
“Oops. Sorry about that. Here’s your beer, Uncle.” Rachel handed the can to Mr Tan. He took a sip, knowing that he just drank Rachel’s saliva mixed with the beer.
Rachel opened her own can of beer and again, the beer foamed out of the can. This time, it dripped onto her t-shirt, making a tiny dark patch on her breasts. Rachel licked the can again and this time, Mr Tan looked more intently at her tongue, imagining how it would feel if it was on his hard, warm cock instead of the cold, metallic can.
“Gosh. I am so careless. I need to wash this.” Rachel sighed. She took off her t-shirt, revealing a white bra covering a pair of perfect, round breasts. She walked into the kitchen to wash her t-shirt and returned to Mr Tan, still in her bra.
Mr Tan tried to appear nonchalant and not look at Rachel. “I didn’t know you drink beer. I thought young girls will go for Coke or something like that.”
“Nah. I drink beer once in a while. It is relaxing.” Rachel looked at Mr Tan. “Don’t worry. Charlene is not a beer person. She is a good girl.” Rachel laughed and reassured Mr Tan.
“No, you misunderstood me. I am not saying that drinking beer is bad. Just surprised. That’s all.” Mr Tan blushed in embarrassment.
“Are you blushing? Gosh, that’s so cute.” Rachel giggles. That made Mr Tan blushed even more. Was it the beer?
“Here, let me show you what we bought today.” Rachel reached over Mr Tan to grab a shopping bag. Mr Tan could feel Rachel’s breast resting on his chest. His cock was harder than ever and he hoped Rachel will not notice.
Rachel pulled out a red bikini. “Nice? Let me wear it for you.” She stood up and removed her bra, exposing her bare breasts. Mr Tan caught a quick glimpse of small, pinkish nipples before they disappeared behind the red bikini. Rachel pulled off her pants, revealing matching white panties. These were pulled off and for a short while, Mr Tan caught sight of a small triangle of pubic hair and a faintly visible slit before they were covered up by the red bikini again.
“Nice?” Rachel asked again? Mr Tan looked at the 18-year old girl, dressed in a red bikini that showed off her cleavage well. Rachel’s tanned, athletic and slender legs were made even sexier in the little red thong that Mr Tan knew barely covered her privates.
“Yes. Very sexy. I am sure all the boys would be attracted by you.” Myself included. Mr Tan thought to himself. Trying to shift his thoughts elsewhere, he asked “What is this bag that Charlene liked so much?”
“Oh. It is the latest model. Very pretty. Here, let me show you.” Rachel rummaged through the shopping bags before taking out a small, squarish blue bag out of a box.
Rachel caressed the bag lovingly, her eyes not leaving it for even a second. “I wished my dad was as generous as you, Uncle. I would have loved to have this bag too. Imagine if Charlene and I both went shopping with this bag.” Rachel sighed.
Rachel put away the bag in its protective case carefully before returning to her seat next to Mr Tan. She continued sipping her beer and watching the television, seemingly lost in thought.
She turned around and looked at Mr Tan. “Uncle, if I am your daughter, will you treat me like Charlene and buy me whatever I want?”
“Of course! Why not?” Mr Tan replied. “You are so pretty. Any daddy will want to spoil you with gifts.”
“Then, can you be my daddy and buy me gifts?”
“What do you mean? Adopt you?” Mr Tan was confused.
“Ha ha!” Rachel laughed. “That’s funny. I mean be my sugar daddy. Let me show you what I can do.”
Without waiting for his response, Rachel leaned forwards and unbuckled Mr Tan’s belt. Her fingers brushed on his hard cock. She turned up to look at Mr Tan with surprise. “Gosh! Are you already hard?”
She unzipped his pants, revealing Mr Tan’s hard cock straining against his underwear. She pulled down the underwear, releasing his cock. Finally, Mr Tan’s cock was free from the confines of his underwear.
“You have a nice, thick cock, Daddy.” Rachel was going with the flow now. “Can I please suck it, Daddy?”
Mr Tan did not know how to react. Here was a sexy young girl in a red bikini offering him a blowjob but this young girl was also his daughter’s friend.
“Pretty, please, Daddy? I promise to be good.” Rachel whined in the most innocent and seductive voice. Mr Tan heard himself say “Yes, be a good girl and suck on my cock.” Did he say that? He seemed to be in a daze.
Rachel need no further encouragement. She spit on the head of the cock and using her tongue, she smeared the saliva all over the cock, lubricating it. Slowly, she engulfed the head of the cock, pressing her lips tightly on the tip and drawing a sigh of pleasure from Mr Tan. Her left hand stroked the shaft slowly, drawing seductively lines along the length of the cock. Her right hand cupped his balls, squeezing them gently. Occasionally, she will gently scratch the base of his cock, just behind the balls with her fingers, making Mr Tan gasped in pleasure.
Slowly, she drew in more of his cock, all the while sucking and maintaining pressure on his cock. Finally, she had swallowed his whole cock in her mouth, with the tip of his cock touching the back of her mouth. She continued sucking with her left hand now alternating between squeezing the base of his cock and jerking it.
Mr Tan was moaning in pleasure from the blowjob. Rachel was very good at this. He held on to her head, guiding her to enhance his pleasure. Once Rachel had his whole cock in her mouth, he knew he could not hold back any further. He felt his balls tighten and shot his load into her mouth. Instead of pulling away, Rachel continued to suck and squeeze every drop of his cum. When she was done, she pulled away and smiled seductively at Mr Tan. She opened her mouth to show him his cum in her mouth, before swallowing everything in one gulp.
Rachel got up and sat on Mr Tan’s lap. She leaned over and whispered seductively into Mr Tan’s ear. “Thank you, Daddy.”
Mr Tan’s cock stiffened again, pushing against Rachel’s ass. Rachel turned and smiled when she saw the hard cock.
“Rachel is a bad girl. Rachel did not do a good job. Please punish Rachel, Daddy. Stick your hard cock into Rachel. Make Rachel cry out in pain, Daddy.” Rachel cried.
She grabbed Mr Tan’s cock with one hand, stroking it to its full hardness. With the other hand, she pulled apart her red thongs, exposing her love hole. With one practiced movement, she guided Mr Tan’s cock into her cunt.
Mr Tan groaned in pleasure as his cock pushed swiftly into the tight, young vagina. As Rachel started to ride on Mr Tan’s cock, she removed her bikini top, offering her bare breasts to Mr Tan. He did not resist the offer, squeezing both breasts with his hands, licking and sucking each pink nipple in turn.
Rachel was also moaning in pleasure. Mr Tan had a thick cock so it was stretching and filling her cunt, sending orgasmic pleasure through her. She grind herself on his cock, moving forwards and upwards, increasing her pace as her pleasure intensified.
“Do you want to be my sugar daddy? Can you buy me whatever I want?” Rachel grunted softly into Mr Tan’s ear as she rode him. “Yes, be my daughter. I will buy you whatever you want.” Mr Tan panted, his shirt now drenched in his sweat.
Rachel hugged Mr Tan tightly. “Thank you, Daddy. I love you.” She wrapped her legs around Mr Tan, positioning herself at an angle so that Mr Tan’s cock could enter her even more deeply. She increased her pace, squeezing Mr Tan’s cock with her cunt as tightly as she could. Mr Tan could not hold back any more. With a grunt, he shot his second load into Rachel, hugging her as tightly as he could as his little soldiers charged into the tight chamber.
They held each other for a while until Mr Tan’s cock became soft and plopped out of Rachel’s cunt. Rachel gave Mr Tan a kiss on the lips. “Thank you, Daddy.” She got up and sperm trickled down her legs. “I need to take a bath.”
“Follow me.” Mr Tan led Rachel into the common toilet. “Let’s take a bath together,” he suggested.
As Mr Tan showered Rachel, his hands roamed all over her body, caressing her smooth young skin and enjoying the touch of the contours of her tight, muscular body. His cock became hard again.
“Daddy, are you hard again?” Rachel asked innocently.
Mr Tan’s lust overcame him. He needed to fuck this girl again. “Come with me.” He pulled Rachel out of the toilet and into Charlene’s room. He took a towel and dried both of them hurriedly. Seeing one of Charlene’s large t-shirt on a chair, he took it and put it on Rachel. “Don’t catch a cold. Now lie face down on Charlene’s bed with your ass facing me.”
Rachel thought that perhaps Mr Tan was into SM. Was he going to spank her bottom?
“Is Rachel a bad girl? Don’t spank me, Daddy.” Rachel role-played as well as she could.
“You are now Charlene, not Rachel.” Mr Tan replied.
Rachel got it immediately. Mr Tan is living out an incest fantasy. She mimicked Charlene’s mannerism. “Daddy-O. I am such a naughty girl.”
Mr Tan’s cock hardened immediately when he heard the term “Daddy-O” used by Charlene. He hugged Rachel from behind, sniffing at Charlene’s scent from her t-shirt.
“Daddy-O. Fuck me! I want you to fuck me!” Rachel cried.
Mr Tan grabbed his cock with one hand and with the other parted Rachel’s cunt. Overcome with lust, he did not bother with foreplay but forced his cock into the tight hole in one swift stroke. He pumped Rachel furiously from behind, leaning forward to squeeze her breasts and taking in deep breaths of Charlene’s scent, all the while imagining that he was fucking his own daughter.
Rachel was swept up by Mr Tan’s animal lust and lost herself in her pleasure. She remembered her role though and occasionally moaned “Fuck me, Daddy-O!” for Mr Tan’s pleasure.
Mr Tan increased his pace and hugged Rachel even more tightly. Minutes later, he came a third time into Rachel. He turned Rachel’s head upwards for a kiss. “Don’t tell anyone and I will buy you whatever you want. When we are alone, your name is Charlene.”
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Imagine Naoya coming home a little bruised and is staggering. Forgetting etiquette and manners, you run towards him and helps him then POOF, Naoya turns into a child.
Getting Shoko to check him up and cue to Gojo laughing his ass off at Naoya's state to which you were a little irritated—no, you were ready to break Gojo's legs if it weren't for his infinity.
Maybe an hour later or the next day, little Naoya wakes up. To your surprise, he's so cute and innocent, staring at you with wide eyes, looking so lost.
crying. yes my heart is soft, i am in love. thank you so much for this, i really loved writing it and writing naoya always comforts me. thank you for making my day 💕
# soft naoya hours
# part of the trophy wife collection
Three hours. That’s how much time has passed since Naoya promised he’d come home. It had been three dreadful hours, and your husband still wasn’t home.
The servants have grown weary of watching you pace back and forth, your perfectly manicured nails chipped down from nibbling on it too much. He’ll be fine, they reassured, it’s Naoya-sama, he’ll come home safely. It’s not that you didn’t trust in his abilities – hell, you experienced his skills in speed and strength firsthand way too many times in bed before to know he’ll come out mostly unscathed – but he promised he’d be home three hours ago, and your husband never broke his promises.
Naoya himself knew better than not to keep his word. With you as his wife, he’s not worried you’ll nag or give him the cold shoulder should he come late since you’re perfectly content being submissive and meek, but the way you worry for him.
You always fret so much for him – not because he’s not capable of taking care of himself – but because you can’t handle the thought of losing him that if anything happens to him, you’ll quickly get rid of your trophy wife title in the blink of an eye and release the powers you’ve kept dormant since your marriage. Safe to say, you’re always so worried for him that he feels bad about it. It would’ve been better if you screamed at him at least once, but you’re too quiet, too gentle, that your perturbation manifests in anxious glances, endless pouting, and cold, trembling hands that he doesn’t have it in himself to make you worry any further.
But if such was the case, where was he?
The storm is unforgiving outside. Thunder erupts and claps even at the sturdy roofs of the Zen’in Estate, the lights blinking every now and then with each roar that wouldn’t simmer down to pit-pattering murmurs. Every now and then, lightning would illuminate the gardens outside, and still, not a sight of Naoya.
A few minutes later, just when you’re quite sure you’ve dug deep into the floorings from your endless pacing, your husband appears.
Bruises littered his face and neck, staggering forwards as he clutches his bicep. His feline eyes run across the room for a moment, the servants shock still upon seeing their master heavily wounded – and then there’s you.
He feels you before he sees you. Setting aside all etiquettes and manners drilled into your head that is becoming of the clan head’s wife, you lunge yourself into his arms. His pained groans and whimpers are heard, verbal protests absent. Softly, Naoya buries his cut cheeks into the crook of your neck as you quite literally lose it and cry as you pull him closer, almost muted whispers sorry I’m late disappearing into your silken robes.
You shake your head and fret over him once more, gesturing to the servants to get him a towel, call the healers and just do something. At your sudden commands, the servants come back to life and rush in all directions. Naoya begins to breathe heavily the further he weakens and you try to steady him, his eyes drooping close when – POOF!
Your husband shrunk.
Arms frozen in the air in the shape of Naoya’s figure, you stare wide-eyed onto the now crying child below you.
Blood and bruises are still matted on his skin, his clothes, his hair – and he’s peering up at you, small, chubby arms extended as his sobs grow louder.
“Oh, baby,” you coo and pick him up, not wasting another minute before you dial Shoko, cradling the tiny, vulnerable human that is now clinging to your robes like his life depended on it.
Unsurprisingly, Naoya hates it.
The moment Shoko arrives – along with goddamn Gojo Satoru who’s been taking pictures of a hissing red-cheeked Naoya, his chaotic howling painting the walls of the infirmary – Naoya refuses to leave your side. He doesn’t even want to be set down on the reclining bed where Shoko is supposed to take a look at him. He bares his tiny fangs to the healer at all times, glaring heatedly at the white-haired sorcerer behind you.
You’re strong – you know you are – and breaking Satoru’s legs really wouldn’t be difficult. But as if sensing your hostility – which is always expected every time people even looked at Naoya wrongly – the idiot (who wasn’t so stupid right now) had activated his Infinity.
“I can’t undo it,��� Shoko announces with a frown, “He must’ve picked up the curse somewhere when he weakened, but I’ve already healed his previous injuries. The stress probably let the curse manifest as well. It should wear off soon enough if he’s feeling better.”
“So he’ll turn back to normal?”
“Yes, of course,” Shoko’s smirk was mysterious. “With you as his wife, I’m sure he’ll revert back to normal quickly. Just keep taking care of him. He needs it now more than ever.”
The pair leaves not long afterwards, though not without Satoru forwarding you images of a young Naoya whose wide eyes were crystallized with annoyed tears. You hate to admit it, but he’s really adorable. That’s not your main focus though, and you immediately retreat back to your room where you wrap Naoya around your coats before settling him on the pillows.
His cheeks are round and glistening with tears, lips pouty and chubby fingers clutching your sleeves. It’s so rare to see him this vulnerable, so open, that your heart melts.
You scoot closer to him and pat his back as you sing lullabies, your lips hovering just about the soft tuft of blond hair. He yelps when another set of thunder booms like an explosion and he cries, head buried in your chest as he listens to the lulling sound of your heartbeat. It breaks your heart that he’s this unguarded, so exposed to everything that you do everything you can to comfort him, wiping his tears away with the pads of your thumb.
Singing a little louder to hopefully silence the storm, you let his cries dwindle down, the grip on your clothes loosening as he slowly falls into slumber.
“You’re safe, Naoya,” you promise, “I’ll never let anything happen to you. You’re safe now.”
The exhaustion of today’s events finally catches up to you, and it doesn’t take long before your eyes are falling as well. You dream of nothing that night, only stirring every now and then in the dead hours of the night to make sure you’re not crushing him with your weight (you’re a messy sleeper.) Thankfully, he’s fast asleep, breathing evenly and cheeks bouncing every time he huffed out from whatever he’s witnessing in dreamland.
You wake up hours later when you’re pulled into a warm, solid chest. Large, calloused hands brush over your exposed collarbones from when your clothes had ridden down in your sleep, and you freeze in his arms, about to turn and stir, to litter him with kisses but Naoya merely cages you in his arms.
“Naoya,” you croak out, almost shyly since you’re squished between his muscles that are somehow still so flawless despite his scars. “Your breakfast…let me prepare it for you. You need to heal.”
“Just a little bit longer,” his deep, morning husky voice resonates through the tranquility of the morning, and he pulls you closer with his bicep before he finally lets you pull away, his eyes nothing but soft and adoring as he smiles at you. “Let me be with you a little longer.”
You don’t know why you cried, but it’s definitely tears of happiness as you playfully pound a fist to his chest. “Silly. I’m not going anywhere. ‘Til death do us part, remember?”
“Hmm,” he nods once, “I’m not going anywhere either. And even if I leave for a bit to save the world, I’ll always find my way back home to you.”
#naoya x reader#naoya zenin x reader#naoya zenin#naoya x reader fluff#naoya zenin x reader fluff#naoya zenin fluff#naoya x reader imagines#naoya x reader scenarios#naoya zenin x reader imagines#naoya zenin x reader scenarios#naoya zenin imagines#naoya zenin scenarios#naoya best husband 💕#ugh i've been feeling sad but this made me feel better tysm#asks with naoya's trophy wife#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jujutsu kaisen scenarios#jujutsu kaisen x reader imagines
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