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risuola · 5 months

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I — NOT YET — F. READER x SUKUNA RYOMEN, who is a mob boss

When a guy in the club tries to assault you, you ask a random stranger to pretend to be your boyfriend. Little that you know that out of all people, you chose a mob boss.

cw: smut, mafia mob!au, briefly mentioned assault and tiny bit of violence, Sukuna (yeah, I consider him a warning), reader discretion is advised — 2,7k words

a/n: mada... mada mada~ the very second I heard this menace toying with Panda, Kusakabe and the rest in Shibuya, not allowing them to move unless he say so - my head went straight to the idea of him playing the same game in bed.

series masterlist

Sukuna never had to get used to being interrupted. Never. Anytime it happened in the past, all he had to do was to glance at the person and it usually got the message across. His gaze has enough power in it to quickly inform the intruder why invading his personal space or cutting him half-sentence is a damn bad idea. One look from him usually was enough to make anyone reconsider if they really want some problems. Sukuna had his eyes trained to be sharp and cold, his body strong and intimidating and his aura dangerous. He spent years building his reputation, earning a position in his world that now guaranteed him calm. Now everyone and their mothers know that he’s not the one to cross paths with. He’s a VIP, he’s allowed everywhere and he has no qualms about killing someone. Ryomen Sukuna is a brand, he’s a threat, he’s untouchable, invincible. No one in the right mind would ever try to start anything with him at this point. That’s why, when he tried to relax in one of many clubs that he owns in Tokyo, he couldn’t believe someone had the guts to push onto him at the bar.

“Hey, sorry, can you please pretend to be my boyfriend for a second?”, he heard near his ear and following the sound and the soft tug on his elbow, he turned his head towards you. Lucky girl, he thought while quickly assessing the view. You were too god damn pretty to be killed, looking at him with those pleading eyes that glistened in the harsh artificial lights. You were visibly scared of something, or someone, and oddly enough it wasn’t him who brought you to the verge of tears.

“Your boyfriend, huh?”, he mused, allowing his eyes to trail down your figure. The dress you had on left little to imagination and yet he wished to tear it off to see more of you. It hugged the shapes of your body perfectly and the silky fabric betrayed the lack of bra underneath. You were attractive, but clearly not smart enough to think twice before approaching a stranger.

“Please, I beg you, this guy—“, you tried to explain, squeezing your perfectly manicured fingers around his veiny forearm, but your sentence was cut in half when a man grabbed you by the waist, pulling you away just a little and harshly pressing your back against the bar. Sukuna watched as you winced when your spine hit the edge of the wooden countertop, he watched for a moment how you tried to push the guy away. With no effect, you weren’t strong enough to stand against him, you were trapped between the unwanted body and the furniture behind you, fighting the hungry hands that were groping your figure.

“Naoya, get off of me—” you tried, pushing his face away from where he was trying to suck a spot onto your neck.

“Oh, shut up woman, I know you want it,” the blonde-ish idiot grinned, twisting your arm enough to make a space for himself. He wasn’t bothered in the least with the fact he was trying to get between your legs in the very center of a club. Sukuna’s club.

Ryomen zeroed the whisky in his glass and got up from the chair. Usually, he would ignore situations like this. Other people’s problems were none of his business and he had enough his own things to take care of, to bother himself with anything else, but you. You were a problem he was willing to explore.

“Zenin, huh?”, he asked, connecting the name he heard falling from your lips with the wannabe gangster he heard about many times before. There was a certain reputation tied to Naoya’s name, mostly regarding his treatment of women but as long as he wasn’t touching his women, Sukuna couldn’t care less about this trash of a man. You definitely were not his woman. Yet.

“The fuck you want, I’m busy,” Zenin groaned, pulling his nasty mouth away from your shoulder for just a moment, only to shot a glare to the club owner.

“I can tell that you’re busy,” Ryomen grabbed one of Naoya’s wrists. It wasn’t looking like a hard grip, but the face of the blonde betrayed the sharp, bone-breaking pain he felt.

You felt some kind of relief when the stranger you just met stepped between you and your unwanted date. The large body of him towered above you completely, he was bigger than you thought when you approached his sitting form, but you couldn’t think about it for too long when he dealt with Naoya so easily. Once the blonde was gone, he turned to you.

Your heart skipped few beats once you took the image in. The man was huge, way taller than you and built like a greek god. The sharp outlines of his muscled torso beautifully showed through the dark graphite dress shirt. Looking up, you could finally see his face clearly. His features were attractive, dangerous with the black tattooed lines around them. He could easily be a gangster or something.

“T-thank you,” you spoke finally, snapping out from the initial impression of him. He was a red flag, you knew that. If not for the circumstance, you’d probably be the first to run away from him. He was hot. An absolute smokeshow, but he was certainly bad news.

“Was he your date?”, he asked, pulling a chair that he was sitting on previously and twisting it to position, before his large hands landed on your hips. There was no effort whatsoever when he lifted you and sat you down on the seat. He opted to stand next to you.

“No… I came here with a friend, but she left earlier. I was just about to leave as well, but this guy stopped me,” you sighed. “He wouldn’t let me go, I was afraid that he’ll just walk after me to my home. I’m sorry I interrupted you.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. The gesture in itself was soft, but you shivered underneath his touch nonetheless. You couldn’t quite tell what made him so… scary. Was it his overwhelming frame? Or maybe the calm, distant demeanor? He had authority, he was expecting submission and when he was looking at you, you felt like a prey of him. Strangely, you were quite fine with that. You had no wish of doing anything with Naoya, but this man… he was different, he was interesting, he made you cross your legs just to feel any kind of pressure between your thighs. “Your name?”

“Y/n,” you replied.

“Y/n. Nice,” he gave it a soft nod and ordered two drinks. “Ryomen is my name. Sukuna Ryomen. Memorize it.”

“Sure…”

At this moment, you had no guts to ask why was it important to imprint the name he told you into your brain, but it all became clear just barely two hours later. You couldn’t exactly recall the moment Sukuna led you out of the club and into his car. There was something so enticing about his entire aura that made you lose your ability to think. He made you break every rule you ever had for yourself – to not talk with strangers, not go with them anywhere. Before that night you were doing exceptionally good in avoiding danger, you somehow slipped through your life up until that point without any major problems, but once you faced the problem, it was a big one.

The talk was good, it flowed easily and the menacing aura that Ryomen had all around him kept you interested. You had no idea that you’re attracted to bad boys, and maybe you were not exactly into school hooligans. Turned out, you’re aroused by the much worse kind – the kind that keeps a gun behind his belt, drinks pure whisky and makes people run away just by shooting them a glance. Yeah, that seems to be the kind of men you are into, because if there was any common sense left in you, you’d be out the door and running towards the safety of your dormitory. If there was any self-preservation instinct in you, you’d be probably anywhere else, rather than in here.

In the most luxurious house you’ve ever seen, not to mention been inside of; somewhere in the outskirts of Tokyo where you were not even sure how you can get back to your home from there. If you were just a little smarter, you’d for sure be in your own bed right now and not on the dark leather couch, with your silky dress scrunched up around your waist and your underwear torn to pieces and laying on the floor. If you had more braincells, maybe you wouldn’t be bouncing on that stranger’s dick right now, gripping onto his muscular shoulders as one of his large hands kept your hip in a dead grip, leading your moves up and down his girthy length and the other one tightly squeezed around the back of your neck, from where he was keeping his head close so he could kiss you so hungrily it took your breath away. But that’s just where you were. And you wouldn’t change a thing.

He felt so goddamn good, filling your tight hole to the very brim, stretching you to the point of delirium and he wasn’t even fully in yet. His moves were aggressive and yet sensual; he made you feel small even if it was you who was on top of him. You had no control, he made it clear with the way he was holding you and every time you tried to dominate him in any way, he quickly showed you your place back. Maybe later, he’ll let you have your way with him, but now, he was in charge.

“Think you can take all of me?” He asked against the delicate skin of your neck, now painted in red and purple marks he nibbed onto it. You could feel him grinning at the way you squeezed your little hands on his clothed biceps. He got you all exposed and yet he only allowed you to free his dick; his shirt was still buttoned up, his pants were still on his legs. There was a certain dominance shown in the way he got you all naked on top of his suit.

“N-no,” you breathed out, “too big.”

“Oh, I’m sure you can.” Sukuna doesn’t exactly accept no as an answer and he for sure gave you enough time to accommodate to his size. “You’ll take it and thank me for it, yeah?”

“Yes,” was all you could mumble, before both of his large hands landed on your hips. The iron grip, you were sure, was going to bruise you but now, it felt grounding in a way.

“Good girl,” he praised, his purr vibrated against your skin as he sucked yet another mark along your collarbone. It distracted you for a moment before he pushed your pelvis even lower, fully bottoming into you. Your clit made a contact with his lower belly, the harsh brush of his skin against the swollen bud making you moan louder than you were meaning to. You felt like all of your organs were moved out of the way just to make more space for his dick and Sukuna couldn’t be more satisfied by the way you took him in. “See? As if you were made to take this cock.”

Something incoherent left your mouth, a tear stained your cheek and the man was happy to lick it away, tasting the saltiness before he bucked his hips up, keeping yours in place. He took full control, thrusting into you with all the power he had in his muscular body and you held onto his shoulders with your little hands. The filthy, wet sounds were filling the interiors, bouncing off the walls and mixing with all of the whines and whimpers that were leaving your lips. Some grunts added to the melody, but you barely heard any of it, too consumed by the exploding pleasure between your legs.

Sukuna’s name was leaving your mouth like a prayer, you felt so close, you felt like falling and you had no intention to stop. The man grinned, licking a long stroke along your throat, his tongue curling upwards as it reached the tip of your chin. The taste of your skin felt intoxicating to him, he wanted to devour you whole, to keep all for himself.

“You wanna cum, huh?” His voice was taunting. “You’re clenching around me so fucking hard, you’re gonna milk me as well.”

“Yes, yes, please,” you near damn begged, chasing the bliss that you could almost taste on your tongue right now. It filled all of your body cells, rushed through your veins in ecstatic waves of lust.

“Not yet,” he ordered and it felt almost painful to force yourself back from the state of climax. You could tell he was playing with you, toying with his dominance, reminding you that it’s him who pulls the strings in here. And yet, he was still rutting into you, his movements completely different to what he was saying, he was fucking you like he wanted you to cum in that very moment. “Still not yet,” he teased, feeling your little fingers digging onto his shoulders, your manicured nails nearly making holes in his shirt as your eyes fell shut.

“Oh god, Ryomen, please,” you whined. Your thighs were shaking, your spine arching and the incredible tension below your stomach threatened to burst any second now.

“Now,” he ordered and just like that, all inside of you snapped. You came all over his dick, and you came hard. It felt like nothing you’ve ever experienced, like you were suddenly shot into another dimension and if not for the way he sped up his movements, you’d probably just get lost in the lustful feeling. Ryomen came just few moments after you, wrapping his arms around your waist and painting your walls white. You felt him throbbing, spasming inside of you, the hot seed gushed out of you as he was pumping it in, staining your thighs and the bottom of his black shirt. Then he pushed you down, fully onto his cock, plugging the way out for his cum.

You found his lips, swallowing his quickened breath as you kissed him with desire and he gave in, quickly dominating the kiss. You were tired, the muscles in your legs were burning from the intense exercise, but you couldn’t shake off the feeling of still wanting more. He made you hungry, he made you unsatiated and you were sure, you won’t be able to recognize yourself after you’re done with him. You were never such a greedy lover but frankly, you never had a chance to feel that good with anyone. The boys you’ve been with had no skills and if not for the orgasms you gave yourself with your fingers, no one else ever brought you over the edge like Sukuna.

“Can you undress?” You asked him, your lips brushing against his as you mouthed the question and he chased your kiss with his head, grabbing your lower lip between his teeth. There was a certain expression painted all over his dangerously handsome features, the menacing aura amplified as he took his sweet time before replying.

“I can undress,” he began, yet there was a but hanging in the air. He had conditions and you were open to hear them. “I’ll give you two options, little kitten. Wanna hear ‘em?”

“Yes.”

“I won’t undress. You can pull yourself together and I can drive you back to your home now. But I can also take the suit off, carry you to my bed. Then you’ll stay with me till morning, but don’t have any hopes for a calm sleep, no. The night will be as filthy as it can get. You’ll be sore tomorrow, most likely exhausted.”

You blinked hearing the options. It was clear as day, stop there or continue? You knew the answer already, your body decided for you even before he came up with an offer.

“Will you drive me home as well if I pick the second option?”

“Of course.”

“Then let’s get you naked.”

» PART TWO

13K notes · View notes

casiia · 4 months

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༉‧₊˚. — simon 'GHOST' riley; newlyweds.

warnings .: x reader, smut, mdni 18+, afab! reader, v! penetration, heavily unedited

.: masterlist.

simon was not thrilled when you told him you didn’t want to sleep with him before the wedding, something about it being “bad luck”. at first he didn’t understand but he was willing to oblige, sleeping in the guest room didn’t sound too bad; although he didn’t like the idea of sleeping in a cold bed while you were just a room away — but fighting with you was never a battle he won.

except, when you clarified that you didn’t want to ��fuck’ before your wedding, he was not having it. he couldn’t stop the baffled laugh that slipped from his lips. it didn’t make sense, you weren’t a virgin; he had the pleasure of stuffing you full of his cock many times while dating. to say he was confused was an understatement.

but, what the bride wants, the bride gets. so weeks go by where simon has to take care of his growing problem by himself; just to tease you, and hopefully make you regret your decision, he’ll get off in bed, right before you go to sleep.

simon will have you watch the way he tugs at his cock with need, his head tilted back with grunts and an uneven breath. his chest heaving as thick ropes of his cum spurt onto his exposed abdomen. he’ll give you a sly smirk before climbing out of bed, his boxers tugged up but hanging too low revealing his v-line.

it takes everything in you to stick to your word, watch every night as simon adds the lewd task into his daily routine. eventually, he’s the one that breaks, the way he stumbles into your shared bedroom and finds you with a hand between your thighs – his name spewing from your lips when you catch sight of him.

he wishes he could say ‘i told you so’ when you’re begging for him, needing to relieve the ache that’s been dwelling in your tummy for so long. he takes one look at your sopping cunt and wonders how long you’ve been trying to stuff your fingers inside of you knowing that they couldn’t reach that gummy spot only he could.

simon shakes his head with a chuckle, taking his time to settle himself between your legs. he kisses your knees, hiking them over his shoulder and winding his arms around your thighs to keep you still. with his thumbs, he’s spreading your folds – a teasing tut and tilt of the head are all you need from him to know that he’ll never let you hear the end of it.

he has to swallow a groan, hard eyes glued to your leaking hole. your juices dribbling from your cunt and dripping onto the bedsheets. “you sure you wanna keep up with your stupid idea? i can make you feel good, take care of you the way you need.” simon asks, almost begging for you to quit being stubborn this once and let him relieve you – to let him fuck you stupid so he can spill his cum deep inside of you instead of wasting it and wiping it off of his chest with a towel.

he just wants to feel your tight cunt wrapped around him, hear your moans as his fat tip nudges against that one spot that makes your walls flutter around his cock. simon’s rutting his hips into the mattress, too lost in his lewd thoughts to hear you reject his suggestion. when he does he’s dropping his head with a low growl.

he never thought he would hate your friends, but he could kill the person who told you about this stupid suspicion. simon is a good boyfriend, he’ll show you how good of a husband he will be too. reluctantly accommodating to your wishes, he stuffs his fingers inside of you instead of his throbbing cock.

oddly enough, he finds himself loving this more. the way your slick coats his hand – his engagement ring. simon is moaning at the sight, his simple soon-to-be wedding band glistening in the dim light as he finger fucks your tight hole.

“aw, honey. s’too much?” he coos, curling his fingers inside of you and pressing his thumb to your clit. he nips at the inside of your thigh and grins at the way your legs tremble, your back arched off the mattress. with his free hand he wraps it around your wrist, squeezing it lightly so you’d loosen your tight grip on the bedsheets below. intertwining your fingers with his, he works you up to another orgasm, talking you through it.

“just like that, baby.” “cum all over my fingers, soak this pretty lil’ ring.”

as much as he enjoys fingering you with his ring on, he loves it when you take a bit of control and take care of him the same way. rubbing over his clothed erection with your left hand, the big diamond on your engagement band looking small next to his sore, hard cock.

simon’s eyes flutter when you squeeze his shaft, precum leaking from his slit and slowly dribbling over your fingers – over your ring, coating the big diamond. he’ll guide your hand up and down his shaft urging you to go quicker, he loves the way your soft hands feel compared to his calloused ones.

he’s bucking his hips upwards into your hand, his head tilted back while he’s whining desperately. simon normally keeps his noises under control but he hasn’t felt your touch in so long.

“fuck, a-ah. can’t wait to marry you and fuck you right.”

his breath hitches when you squeeze his angry red tip, the cool metal of your ring rubbing against his slit. with a deep groan he’s cumming all over your hand; watching with wide eyes, the way your fingers play with his hot, sticky cum.

after your wedding ceremony, simon drags the both of you into the bathroom. shamelessly, he’s bending you over the sink, unzipping his trousers, and hiking your wedding dress up.

“si, we can’t. people are waiting for us.” you squeal when he snaps the garter against your thigh, his rough hands squeezing your hips and pulling your thong down. simon only rolls his eyes, leaning down and spitting on your exposed pussy. he rubs his cock between your folds, using his spit as a lubricant.

“they can wait, m’gonna take care of my wife first.”

how could you say no, especially to your husband?

AN: i know nothing about weddings or marriage, but i heart hubby si

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phyrestartr · 27 days

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Icarus, I Am Devoted | Sukuna x M!Reader

Main Fic W/C: 5.9k Bonus Drabbles W/C: 1.6k

[#Modern AU, ABO dynamics, Mob Boss!Sukuna, Alpha!Sukuna, Street Doctor!Reader, Omega!Reader, toxic relationships, age gap, sukuna is mid 30s, yuuji gang and reader are mid 20s, sukuna and yuuji are brothers, sukuna has FEELINGS, but he is BAD AT FEELINGS, nsfw, fluff, hurt/comfort, I KINDA EDITED BUT I JUST WANT THIS TO BE YEETED INTO THE OPEN OK BYE SORRY IF PARTS ARE CLUNKY]

@better-imagination-9 I summon thee

Sukuna didn't like Yuuji getting caught up in his business.

He was too brash, thought himself too badass for the world to take down, thought gang life wasn't as bad as it was made out to be, just because his older brother was involved. Sukuna didn't know where the fuck he got that idea–the tattooed menace had killed people, stolen money, sold shit that ruined lives. It was fun for him, sure, but not so much for bystanders.

“You're an idiot,” Sukuna growled as he dragged his brother into his office and threw him at the chaise lounge while they waited for their doctor on demand.

“H-hey, come on, man! It's, uh, it's not even that bad–” Yuuji grimaced, though, holding at the wound gushing blood from his arm. “You've had worse!”

Sukuna laughed bitterly as his henchmen flooded the room and made necessary preparations for their aid's arrival. “You and I are fucking built different, Yuuji--you’re too damn soft for–”

“I'm not,” Yuuji snapped, honeyed eyes blazing. “I'm not.”

Sukuna laughed again, then ripped his plush, leather chair across the room, sending it hurtling into the expensive ebony walls he encased his place of business in. He roared in overwhelming fury as it clattered to the floor.

“How hard is it for you to listen? How come you can never just fucking–”

“Yelling won't solve things,” your cool voice interrupted as you hurried into the room, medical bag in hand. “I thought you learned that by now.”

Sukuna whirled on his heel. His hands were still fisted in his hair and his blood boiled, but now, there existed an explosive tension with you in the room.

You, his pretty little omega. The one he chased away. The one he still craved. The one that drove him insane.

“Uraume,” Sukuna growled, crimson eyes locking onto his most devoted.

“My apologies,” they said with a pensive look and deep bow, “he was the only one willing to come.”

“So mind your manners, or I'll let your brother bleed out,” you said airily, so haughty and bitchy and annoying. But Sukuna knew you wouldn't let Yuuji die. You wouldn't let him suffer with a wound like that–you were too fond of the little brat.

Sukuna snarled in frustration and fixed his jacket with sharp tugs. “Just fix him.”

He stalked away, ignoring the way Yuuji yelled at him before preening at you as you tended to him. Sukuna knew his brother had a bit of a thing for you, his bitch, which caused more than a handful of problems with the two arguing and fighting for your affections. Naturally, you chose Sukuna. Of course you would.

The alpha's frustrations boiled, reducing the rage in his gut into simmering desire. He leaned his head back against the elevator mirror with a sigh as it shot up toward the penthouse--the one you, too, used to occupy. The one where you'd spread your legs for him, drowning in expensive, black silk sheets while he bred you like the good little thing you were. The one where you'd cook for him if (when) you woke up before him the morning after. The one where you first whispered I love you against his skin when you thought he was asleep.

The elevator doors dinged open, and he stormed out, eager to rid himself of the tightness pulling at his slacks. A cigar and a drink sounded good, too.

–

Ding.

He knew it was you. It had to be you. You were a good person, willing to let Uraume rest while you gave your ex the update he needed about his brother. After all, you didn't fear him, nor did you yearn to please him. You were more than capable of delivering shit news and getting off scotch free.

“So?” Sukuna took a deep puff from his cigar and leaned further into the balcony railing as you approached.

You hummed as you sidled up next to him, tucking some of your hair behind your ear as the breeze tugged at it. “He'll be fine. Yuuji's tough. He's a bit shaken up now that the adrenaline’s worn off, though.”

“Maybe that'll teach that idiot not to get shot.”

“Probably not.”

“Probably not,” Sukuna sighed, tapping off a dash of ash from the butt of his cigar just before it was plucked from his hands. “Oi.”

“These things'll kill you,” you scolded airily. “So will that.” You tried reaching for the crystalline glass of amber, too, when Sukuna scoffed and took a sip to spite you.

“Don't,” he snarled. Any normal omega would have backed away. Any normal omega would have keened. Any normal omega would have tried to please him up with a sweet scent of submission. But you were a different breed entirely.

“Don't growl at me–” you gaped as Sukuna downed the expensive liquor before whipping the glass at the skyline. “Sukuna.”

He stalked back into his penthouse with heavy steps as he ran his hands through his hair. He had to busy his fingers, his palms, just so he wasn't tempted to touch you, to grab you like he was used to. It'd been years since you were properly together–properly engaged in fact–but he still couldn't shake those infuriating fucking habits. You were a cancer in his mind, plaguing his body and thoughts.

But he didn't want you to leave. Maybe he liked the chase. Maybe he just liked how his entire, explosive world narrowed down to just one infuriating thing that he wanted so badly. He didn't know. Maybe he didn't need to know.

Sukuna poured himself another drink and collapsed onto his soft leather couch with a deep sigh. His arms draped along the back, one hand still holding the glass by the rim. He let his head fall back, and stared at the ceiling.

Thankfully, you wandered in. And you wandered toward him, not to the door like you usually did when his temper flared and he acted out. Something small and pathetic in him uncoiled and settled down, purring in content when you took a seat beside him.

“What's going on?” you asked quietly. Your fingertips singed sparks of pleasure against his skin where you touched: his cheekbones, his hairline, his furrowed brow.

He lolled his head to the side to look at you, his stupid pretty boy. “Nothing.” Not even Sukuna believed that.

You brushed his hair back, and the stupid alpha in him rose to the surface and moaned. “Yuuji’s not behaving?” Your warm palm cupped his cheek, and he leaned into it.

“That little shit never behaves,” he mumbled through the vibrato of purrs rumbling from his chest. “Gonna make me die young.”

“Hm. Is that why you haven't slept?”

“I'm sleeping.”

“How much?”

“Enough.”

“Sukuna.”

“I said–”

“You and I have different definitions of ‘enough,’” you chided lightly, like you were scolding one of your cats. “You look tired.”

“Maybe it's because my mate scampered off in the middle of the night.”

“Don't blame this on me.”

“Why not?” Wine-red eyes glowered at you, deciding whether he should dominate or decimate you. “It's your fault.”

You recoiled the slightest bit, your top lip twitching in that oh-so familiar way it did whenever you were close to snarling and snapping at him. You had such a temper for such a calm thing. Sukuna would be lying if he said he didn't try to rile you up on purpose.

“Ho? What,” he started, grinning wickedly when you made a move to get up, but his arms snaked around you and held like wrought iron. “Feelin’ guilty?”

“No,” you hissed, half-pissed by his drink spilling on you, half-pissed by his accusation. “Let go. I'm leaving.”

“Leaving?” He crooned. “You always get so pissy when I don't wanna talk, ‘n now that I'm in the mood, you're tryna leave? Come on, sweetheart, that's not fair.”

“I don't feel like fucking fighting tonight,” you snapped, and Sukuna stayed quiet for a change. “Yuuji got shot. You look like shit. And we--I haven't–” you took a deep breath. “Can't we just be civil for a night? Can't we just talk about–”

“About what?”

“About whatever.”

“Fine.”

“Alright. Okay.”

Somewhere behind the haze of alcohol, Sukuna's consciousness celebrated–this could be his shot at starting to fix things. This was his moment to rebuild that lost relationship and maybe clean up a space in his life for you to sit safely in. Your expectant expression agreed with him. You looked quite cute, what with your big eyes and the way you leaned into him. But instead–

“Was it a boy or a girl?” Sukuna asked before taking a sip of whatever remained in his glass.

You blinked and shook your head, eyes narrowing the slightest as you looked over his face. “What?” You asked.

Sukuna snorted and turned to face you, one arm gesturing with his scotch glass while the other arm stayed slung across the back of the couch. “I said,” he started, gesturing to your stomach and chuckling through his low, bassy words, “boy or girl? If it was a girl, then maybe the world did you a favour. You know how it is for women in this day and age.”

You stared blankly like you were shellshocked, and Sukuna bubbled with near-manic, reedy laughter until you got up and walked to the door.

“Oi, where the hell are you going, huh?” He got up and followed you, hastening his steps when he saw you b-line for the door. “Omega.” He grabbed your wrist and pulled you back, purring into your ear as he pressed his chest to your back. “Come on, we can make another one. You'd like that, huh?”

“Get off,” you barked, ripping his arms away from you. But he grabbed you again and spun you back to face him. You shoved him back, your mind whirling in a chaotic waltz drenched with grey thoughts and crimson rain that almost drowned out the words he barked at you until–

Whack.

He hit you. Backhanded, fingers adorned with thick, bulky rings and knuckles that'd seen too many fights. A natural disaster contained in the vessel of a mortal man–sometimes, he didn't know his own capabilities.

“Shit,” Sukuna mumbled, scrambling to set down his glass to, what, tend to you? Rewind time? Sure. “Babe–”

But you, too, were a natural disaster. The tsunami that came after an earthquake, raising tides high and staring down at split earth with a taunt: you think you're bad? Watch this.

Thwack.

You snatched up that bottle of fancy scotch and hit a home run, watching Sukuna collapse to the floor.

–

Sukuna woke up with a concussion, his wallet missing, and one of his favourite cars torched.

It got him riled up. He was too ready to hunt you down and make you rectify your mistakes–that is, until he remembered why you did what you did.

Boy or girl?

Maybe the world did you a favour.

Fuck. He flew way too close to the sun this time.

He watched you stack up expenses on his card instead of hunting you. Your little rage-filled crime spree was kind of funny anyway, and he couldn’t help but hope it made you feel at least a little better.

Though he knew it could never. Nothing could make it better.

–

“You should quit messing around with him,” Ieiri said as she tended to the half-dead gangster laying on her operating table. “He's bad news. A kid like you shouldn’t be getting involved.”

The one little, wiggly lucid part of Sukuna wanted to strangle Ieiri; you were young, sure, but not stupid. Sukuna wouldn't go so far as to say you were mature for your age, no, but you'd been beaten down by life and forced into the role of an adult for long enough that it'd changed your way of thinking, of perceiving the world. You could make your own choices–just as long as it involved him.

“You're not the first person to tell me that,” you said softly, words rising with a small, warm chuckle. “Good guys try way too hard to put on a show, to hide how garbage they can be.” You squeezed Sukuna's hand and ran your thumb over his split knuckles. “Guys like him show you who they really are right away. Then, you get to figure out what his good side is like.”

–

You were there again. In the elevator, looking a little pensive beyond your cool exterior.

Sukuna took a drag from his cigarette as he stepped in beside you. The button for his penthouse leered at him and whispered, “you have time.”

All he had to do was think of what to say. The right course of action was obvious, but–well, was it really his fault? He couldn't accept that 100%. You clocked him upside the head with a fucking glass bottle and stole his–

“Those things'll kill you.” Your fingers snatched the smoke from his lips before he realized it. He caught you butting it out on the fancy gold railings.

“I like things that can kill me,” he hummed, lighting another cigarette and chuckling when you snatched that one too. “What, scared of a little competition?”

“Yes.”

Oh. Sukuna liked that.

“I, uh,” you started, fumbling with your pockets before handing something over. “Found this.”

Sukuna glanced your way finally. He couldn't help but laugh as he plucked the wallet from your hands.

“Found it, huh?”

“Mhm.”

“Such a benevolent, pious thing. I would've kept it.”

“Yeah, well. You're a dick. ‘Course you would.”

“Where'd you find it?”

“My pocket.”

“No shit.”

“Yeah. Weird.”

The elevator doors dinged open, revealing the empty hall leading to the penthouse. He glanced down at the door before looking back down at you.

“Have a drink with me.”

Your expression soured.

Sukuna threw his arm against the doors to keep them open. “Coffee?”

Your brows lifted, the creases smoothing from your face. “Coffee.”

Sukuna's alpha bloomed with pleased content. He sidled up next to you and rested his broad hand on the small of your back, leading you down the hall.

“With a bit of Baileys.”

“No Baileys.”

–

He let you try to sooth his stress while you waited for your favourite, poor-person coffee to brew.

You straddled his thick thighs as you kissed at his neck. Your hands roamed and threaded through his gelled hair, your blunt nails dragged along his scalp, coaxing rumbling purrs out of your alpha.

“Shit,” he moaned, leaning back into your hands, digging his head into your digits and grumbling like an old dog. You hummed in sympathy, and gave him harsher scritches, making his knee bounce in double time like a dog getting the spot scratched.

You weren’t done, though. You licked at his neck’s scent gland and coaxed more of his natural musk to the surface to mix with yours–a classic way to get one’s partner to calm down. You were methodical as fuck about it, too, knowing how Sukuna’s stress abruptly blocked any good scents in favour of excreting foul, angry odors into the air when he was pissed. Or, sometimes, he’d shut down completely, the only scent coming from what clung to his skin and clothes.

And so, he needed a little more TLC to get things flowing again, to make his body disarm and let the good vibes flow.

You nipped the swollen spot lightly, eliciting a strangled growl from the man. “Too rough?” Your tongue pressed at the spot again, and pulled more of that deep purring out of him. “Maybe not.”

“By all means, rough me up.” That was as close to a warning as you would get from a greedy bastard like Sukuna. He wanted you to bite harder, to break skin and set the wild tornado of a mating rut into motion. You were careful to avoid him when your unholy heats crashed down on you, but being in the presence of your estranged man when he was set off–well, it’d jumpstart your sex-crazed frenzy, too.

“Raincheck,” you murmured.

He huffed and rubbed circles in your hips before grabbing your ass and squeezing. “When's the last time–”

The coffee maker sang a tune and you got off, saved from your warm, fuzzy marking daze. “Does it matter?”

Sukuna got up and stalked after you, rubbing the ache out of his shoulder. “Like it or not, we're stuck with our binding vow.” His chest pressed to your back, his arms slipping around your waist as he leaned down to nuzzle into your skin. “Mated for life.” He couldn't help the smile that branded into your neck.

You cleared your throat and snatched up two mugs. “There're surgeries–”

“No.”

“How do you take your coffee again?” Hah. You didn't even try to argue it.

Sukuna's ego boomed. His scent grew more dominating and demanding in tow. “You know how I like it. You know the way I like everything.”

You scoffed and slapped his hand away, the sweet, teasing omega that happily marked him up and scented him to high heaven gone, now replaced with your annoying, bratty self. Ugh. He loved it as much as he hated it.

“You used to be cuter,” Sukuna commented, quiet and breathy, so out of character. His hands retreated back to hold your waist instead of keeping you trapped against him. “What happened to–”

“You know what happened.” You sounded tired, too. Angry. But not at the Sukuna standing with you right then and there.

Sukuna's old friend, unyielding frustration, bore down on him. He sucked his teeth and beat down the urge to snap, to yell and scream, claim it wasn't his fucking fault and that you never filled him in, so how could–

His forehead pressed against your shoulder. “I don't,” he sighed. “I don't fucking know, (Name). We lost our kid, I know that much, so what the fuck else is there?”

For a moment, he thought he'd lost you again. He expected you to whirl around, throw a cup at his head and curse him to hell to start off another fight; instead, you slipped out of his hands gently, and replaced your warmth with a cup of coffee.

“Come sit.”

Sukuna complied.

You tucked your legs up under you when you sat down. Your own mug was held snugly with both hands, yet your fingers fidgeted, twirling around whatever rings you had on while you thought of what to say.

“So,” you started. “How much do you know?”

Sukuna leaned back and thought. “Uraume called. Said something was wrong.” He could remember their voice ringing in his ear, that usual, frigid demeanor exploding into something panicked and tortured as they tried to comfort you, order idiots around, and explain the situation. “They didn’t know what, but said you were bein’ taken to Ieiri. I met ‘em there, Gojo wouldn’t let me come in.” He sighed, the memories pricking his nerves. “Told me you miscarried, and–well, that’s more or less it.”

You nodded a little, digesting the scraps of knowledge that’d been given to Sukuna. “I was alone,” you breathed. “I was–I’d been cramping. A lot. I thought–I didn't know–I just–I thought it was normal.” You cleared your throat, fidgeting more and only stilling when Sukuna's palm rested on your leg. You covered his hand with one of yours. “There was a lot of blood. I thought I was dying. Uraume and Yuuji took me to Ieiri.”

Sukuna remembered that, too. He remembered catching sight of you just before his brother carried you away from him. It was hard to forget the sound of your wailing amidst all that red–that damned noise came from hell itself, from the burning, fetid pits of agony and despair and up through your beautiful voice. For something so foul to touch you was nothing but blasphemous.

Sukuna tried to follow you in, but that moron Gojo wouldn’t let him in, spouting some bullshit about how he’d make things worse. Needless to say, Sukuna snapped, and Ieiri suddenly had more than a mourning omega to deal with.

“I pinned it on you to cope. I didn’t know what else to do.” You spared a shy glance at him before staring down again. “...Uraume filled me in, though. You were dealing with so much shit. All that crap with the Zenins. And you didn’t even–you didn’t even know I was knocked up until I wasn’t.” You sighed and sipped your drink before setting it aside. “Guess it was easier to blame you for everything than it was to just accept I got unlucky.”

“‘Unlucky’?” Sukuna repeated lowly, void of mirth for once.

You nodded. “Chromosome bullshit, garbage genetics, a shitty cervix. Coulda been anything.” Sukuna watched your expression shift from desolate to bitter. “And if you fuck up once and lose your pup, odds are it’ll happen again.”

“Says who?”

“Science. Doctors.”

“You really gonna take their word like that?” Your eyes met his, doey and expectant. “I'll gut ‘em myself if they say that shit next time you're knocked up.”

You looked a bit bashful then, looking away from him with pursed lips and glossy eyes. For a second, Sukuna thought you were about to snap and argue with him about how you vowed to never get pregnant again (which he'd indulge in), or maybe even bolt for the door (which he wouldn't allow), but instead, you grabbed the remote.

“Tch. Don't say such stupid shit. It's annoying.”

Sukuna could only grin to himself as you settled in beside him, tucking up against his side. Neither of you could swallow your pride enough to properly apologize for anything ever, but that wasn't necessarily needed–understanding was what was needed. Things had just become a little bit clearer.

–

For once, the alpha found himself at ease. Sure, you had your petty and some less-than-petty spats, but there was a coil of contentment that stayed at the forefront of Sukuna's mind through it all. Now, he no longer fumed nor bristled, no longer wondered if you really belonged to him, no longer thought about how to trap you if he wanted to keep you around.

Because you made more of an effort to see him, to call when you couldn't, to set his vicious wolf's heart at ease so he could rest soundly. He rested the most when you were so gracious as to curl up in those black, silken sheets with him, too.

Don't get too excited. It's just because we're mated; we'd go insane otherwise, Is how you rationalized it. And, honestly, it was cute to see you act so flippant and uncaring when Sukuna knew you were so the opposite.

Little liar. Loves playing pretend. He gently tucked stray hairs behind your ear as you snoozed soundly beside him. It was unlike you to sleep in so late (“late” meaning past 6am), and it was unlike Sukuna to wake up before you, so it must have been kismet.

Because this moment was the first in a long time where he got to touch you. Beyond the playful ass slaps and grabs at your hips, you never really let him feel you. Or did he just never try to touch you like this? Gently, just for the sake of feeling your skin and your warmth?

Sukuna was a brutal man. He didn't often have a chance to be careful. If he'd had that kid, then he might've learned how; he could've learned not to throw glasses at skylines, not to lash out at his omega, not to expect you to still love you when he broke you.

He brushed his thumb along your cheek and down to your jaw, admiring the soft skin and strong angle that led him to the curve of your chin, and your perfect lips. God, he wanted to kiss you. It'd been an eternity since he had a taste of you. Maybe if he was gentle–

I can do gentle. Sukuna shifted the slightest bit towards you until his nose lightly brushed against yours, until he felt your light breaths fan against his skin. Ah, why was his heart beating so fast now?

He did his best to ignore the way his pulse thundered in his ears when he brushed his lips against yours once more, before he kissed you softly. Gently. Perfectly. And he took his time parting. He had to savour the taste of your lips against his because who knew when he'd get to kiss you again?

I love you, he heard echo in his memories when your lips parted. But he never heard himself reply.

“Love you too, brat,” he murmured. “Don't you dare think otherwise.”

Your eyes opened a moment later. “You mean that?” came your reply, just as light and whispered. Sukuna felt waves of heat come off your skin–were you blushing?

Crimson eyes flickered from your bashful look to the slight parting of your lips and back again. “Always.” Even though he never said it. But he let you get away with everything to show that love–credit card theft, cracking him upside the head with a bottle, abandoning him for months on end.

A soft ‘hm’ hummed through you. Your sleepy gaze melted from Sukuna’s, and down to his lips, too, while your own pursed, pensive. Thoughtful. Christ, you were really something else–just a single look from you had his mind reeling, his chest easing into a warmth so reminiscent of a campfire, the sort you both used to sit around when you’d bullied Sukuna into buying one for his too-big balcony.

Back then, you were just “friends,” though the flirting and meaningful touches said otherwise. You were still a street doctor, introduced to him by Yuuji of all people, but you had more pep in your step, especially when you worked to try and swoon the hardened, deranged alpha you’d decided belonged to you. You’re mine, you said simply after shooting whatever whore the big, bad boss had hired for the night. The look in your eyes, cold and determined, got Sukuna achingly hard in an instant. He never wanted you to look at anyone else like that–your rage, your obsession, it could only ever be for him.

“‘M I still yours?” You still want me? You still love me? Am I still just for you?

You looked a little sentimental. A little sad, too, maybe. But maybe it was just the culmination of your fears and worries, your wants and desires finally breaking through your solemn being.

“I'm a minimalist at heart. I've only got room for so much.”

“Don't tell me you're back on that Kondo Marie kick–”

“But you're something I can't do without.” Yeah, I love you. I want you. I don't want much, but I want you. You're mine. “You bring me joy, or whatever the saying is. But I wanna beat the shit outta you sometimes for being a dumbass.”

Sukuna laughed and nudged your nose with his–a small, primal gesture of fondness. “Yeah, yeah, I'm aware. Tch. You're gonna have to be careful--you're gonna send my old ass to an early grave if you keep up with all this fiery youth shit.”

“Then I can inherit your fortune,” you offered airily before kissing him teasingly. Sukuna growled when your small fangs dug into his bottom lip playfully. “That'd be nice.”

“Hah. Everything's going to family–Yuuji, the old fart.” Sukuna pulled you in closer and purred as you complied. “You'd have to–”

“I'll marry you if that's what it takes,” you cooed, and Sukuna froze. You paused for a moment, too, before lifting yourself up to look down at his dumb face. “Oi.” You pat his cheek lightly but he scowled at you, half-cranky, half-defeated. “Eeeh? You mad?”

“Tch.”

“Awe, big alpha's mad.”

“Don't.” A command. A warning. One that had your subgender reeling and whimpering behind you, but your human side smiling, ready to mock.

You slid on top of him, straddling his waist and splaying your hands out on his broad, solid chest. Sukuna still kept his gaze elsewhere. Honestly, you couldn't blame him--you were in a mood.

“Oi,” you prodded, poking at his ridiculous pecs and tracing over the dark lines of his irezumi. “Hey. Don't pout.” But he grabbed your hands when your stupid fingers threatened to assault his nipples, and he continued to pout. “Come on, I said I'd marry you.”

“Tch.” You've said that before.

“I mean it.”

“Tch.” You’ve said that before, too.

You leaned down, and nuzzled the hollow of his cheek while he grumbled and grumped. “You don't like the idea of breeding me anymore? You don't want me to yourself, all caught up in your bedsheets with you between my legs? Hm? You don't wanna fuck me through my heat, knock me up a few more times, make me bare your children for the world to see how I belong to Ryoumen Sukuna? You don't want me to be drenched in your scent–”

You squeaked when your man flipped you around, pinning you before ripping off the sleep shorts keeping your skin from him. His rough fingers dove deep into your slicked up hole (apparently your long list of hypotheticals had worked you up into a soft, wet, pliant thing) and hurried to stretch you wide.

“Such an annoying little shit,” Sukuna grumbled. And you laughed, lightly and so achingly genuinely through your fluttery mewls and moans. “If you try ‘n back out this time, I'll break your fucking legs and tie you down to the bed, you got that? I'm not gonna be so fucking nice this time.”

“Eh? You were being nice last–” you whined when his wet fingers jammed into your mouth. But you obediently sucked and bit at them, holding onto his muscled arm for leverage while he kicked off his bottoms and pressed his sweltering tip to your soft entrance.

“You got no idea, princess.” Sukuna pushed in, groaning with ancient, cursed need as your insides welcomed him and obeyed, letting his uncomfortable size push you open. Seemed your body still remembered him. Wanted him as much as your stupid pretty mouth claimed.

You were gasping, your molars chewing into his fingers as your missing piece slid back into place, filling you up until it hurt to breathe. Strong thighs clamped down against Sukuna’s sides as he dragged you down, forcing the last bits of his cock into your very depths, squeezing a reedy whine out of you, before he pulled out and slammed right back in again and again and again.

Your cry nearly sent him over the edge. It was a loud, bassy thing, something like a cello toppling or having its string plucked too hard by a callous touch–a sound Sukuna reveled in. You were the only partner he'd had that was like this, so demanding and bitchy, absolutely horrible and as poisonous as alphas were, and he loved it. He lived and died by your gospel, by the very life that thrummed underneath his touch.

And you promised to be all his. Sukuna could have everything, anything and anyone, and that apparently included trapping and claiming a god. One that only he prayed to. One that'd only smile upon him. One that only delivered to him divine blessings.

What a divine gift.

He folded you in half with ease and blanketed your trembling body with his own. The fingers fucking into your mouth slipped out and down to your throat where they squeezed lightly; then, they traveled to the back of your neck, found your cute little nape, and squeezed.

Your eyes rolled back as your body arched up into him. Words left you in some ancient tongue neither you nor Sukuna could decipher. But it was a language of love and pleasure, the sort that brought delicious submission coiling through your blood in offering to the lowly creature devouring your holiness.

“Sukuna,” you choked out. Your fingers dug into his shoulder and fisted in his hair, pulling him closer to the old, scarred mark left there by him a decade ago. “‘Kuna, I need–”

The boss laughed low, but with fluttery, manic high tones warped throughout. “Need me to bite you? Mark you mine again?” He taunted. His nails dug into your soft side as he fucked into you harder, lifting your waist up to meet his brutal angle as his base started to swell. “I wanna hear you say it–say you need it, you want it. Say you need me to fill your guts every fucking night. Say I'm the only one who can get you there. I'm the only one–” his other hand grabbed your nape harder, forcing your submission further, forcing your neck to the side to present it to him.

Then, with a snarl, he added, “say ‘I do.’”

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you murmured those very words into his ear.

I do.

Sukuna's heart howled with the beast living inside him. Blood flooded his mouth when he tore into your shoulder, digging deeper than needed to brand you his again just before his pulsing knot squeezed into you and locked into place, stilling his wild rampage and holding you hostage beneath his hulking body.

You shifted and writhed against him, so obviously overwhelmed by such an archaic, crazed union–your omega must have been going wild, willing you to fight against the monster pouring his seed into you, locking you in place, taking away your autonomy. But a short, rough warning growl settled your inner self the slightest bit and straightened out your thoughts enough for your human pettiness to urge you, too, to sink teeth into flesh and mark up your alpha to complete the re-bonding.

Good boy. Sukuna's hips rutted against you in light pulses, attempting to jam his knot further into you to ensure you'd take everything he so graciously offered you. But every little move your bodies made together tore more hot strings of cum out of him and into your core. Apparently an eternity of not having you was culminating into this one moment.

You were the one to let go first. You collapsed onto your back with a loud sigh, and the crushing constriction of your thighs laxed just slightly.

“Fuck,” you gasped, wholly content and pleased. Your hand wiggled between your bodies and rested on the still-inflating curve that your partner had oh-so loving built out of cum and obsessive dedication. “That's gonna make a mess.”

Good. Sukuna's chainsaw purr reverberated against your bloodied skin. He chewed into you further and relished in the taste and smell of you, the way it mingled with his own scent of existence and made him feel so irrevocably whole.

Your fingers laced through his hair as you laughed. “Oi, let go already. Your knot's not gonna go down for like thirty minutes. I'm not going anywhere.”

Your mate obliged, dislodging his chunky fangs from you and lapping at the wound dutifully until the bleeding staunched. Next, he got to work leaving an array of dark hickies and light bites all over your neck and shoulder, just in case the gnarly bite mark wasn't enough to ward off idiots who thought they had a chance with you. He grumbled at the mere idea of it.

“So?” You cooed, running your hands up and down his muscled shoulders. “What do we do for half an hour?”

Sukuna scoffed. He tried to pull out just a bit, just to see if he was seriously locked in there, and you spat a vile hiss his way, your nails digging into him at the same time. And, fuck, you were tight–

“Fuck.” He didn't think this through.

-- DRABBLES --

“You're dumb as fuck, you know that?”

“Ah, such romantic words to hear from my wife.”

“Husband, jackass.”

Sukuna managed to open his eyes through the pounding of his head. God, he felt like shit. But that probably came with the territory of getting shot point-blank before bailing out of a moving car on the highway. Honestly, he was lucky only one car hit him when he hit the pavement.

Still, it was bad enough to warrant him a ticket to the hospital. Uraume worked behind the scenes, ensuring their boss got a private room and that the police would stay the fuck away if they knew what was good for them, and it all somehow worked out. Uraume was definitely a sorcerer of sorts.

“Can you save it for home? Fucking hell,” Sukuna groaned, letting his eyes fall shut again. “Too tired to argue.”

“That's a first,” You huffed, and marched up to his side, sitting down in the cozy seat waiting for you. Your careful touch prodded at his hand gently, as if assessing the damage, guestimating if you could hold his hand without hurting him, but he made the choice for you. He caught your hand weakly, and you held him safe with both of yours.

“Missed you,” he grumbled, squeezing back lamely. “Have fun on the trip at least?”

“Yeah, until I heard what happened.” You sighed, watery and warbled. “I shouldn't have left. You're too stupid to survive alone.”

Sukuna laughed, then coughed. He felt you tense. “F-Fuck you, little shit. I'm fine.”

“You got shot.”

“Been shot before.”

“Jumped out of a car.”

“I've jumped outta faster.”

“Then got hit by another car.”

“That was a first.”

You sighed to fight back either a sob or ill-placed laughter, or maybe both. “This is so fucking ridiculous. Never make me take a vacation again. I can't be off fucking around in Hawaii when my baby daddy's getting hit like it's GTA.”

“Christ, I already–” he paused, though, and cracked an eye open to look at you. “What did you…”

He lost his words when he saw you. Your skin glowed in a way he hadn't had the luxury to see before. Your face looked rounder, too, like you'd put on a little bit of weight since you'd been gone. But your scent–your usual sweet, full-bodied scent of flowery coffee was cranked up to a trillion. If Sukuna's nose wasn't busted, he would've noticed the way it filled up the room, and he might've noticed how his own scent rose to meet it in greeting. Something strange was happening.

“Oh. Right. Uh…” you cleared your throat and hastily tucked some hair behind your ear. You looked a little bit lost for words too, in all honesty. “I’m pregn–”

Sukuna sat up. You barked at him to lay down, your voice rising a few octaves when something that was probably important dislodged from his wrist as he reached forward when you stood. And you froze when his palm pressed against your stomach–a natural, maternal thing to do. Sukuna remembered when he caught your cat for you when she was trying to dart out the door whilst pregnant, and how she froze dead in her tracks when his hand caught her by her kitten-filled stomach, and let him carry her back inside.

But this was different. This wasn’t his partner’s cat’s kittens he was feeling, it was yours. His. A shared little nugget doing its best to grow big for its expectant mama–and now expectant papa.

“How long?” Sukuna rasped. When did his throat get so dry?

“Two months. Ish.” You rested your hands over his again despite the awkward angle he caught you at. “I didn’t know until last week. I tried to call, but–” You got obliterated and couldn’t answer your phone.

“I get it. Don’t gotta explain.” Sukuna gazed at your stomach a moment longer with droopy, half-lidded eyes before looking up at you as nurses burst into the room. “You’re moving in.”

And for once, you didn’t argue.

–

“Dude, you guys can't fuck when he's pregnant! You'll crush the baby like a tin can!”

You snorted and tried to cover your mouth as your tea shot out your nose. You coughed and wheezed, turning away and waving at the brothers in a desperate plea for them to not look and continue their petty argument.

Sukuna, caught between the urge to mock you and kick the shit out of his annoying little fucknut brother, sighed and rubbed his face before handing you his fancy handkerchief he kept tucked in the breast of his jacket for nothing but looks. These days, though, the damn thing had been paying its dues.

“You think I'm gonna listen to a fuckin’ virgin about this kinda shit?” Sukuna quipped back as he watched you clean up before trying to take a sip of your drink again.

“Hey, man, I'm just saying. Your dick is like a third leg.”

You slammed your hand down on the table after spitting a mouthful of tea back into your cup. “Yuuji. Please. Why do you even know that?”

Yuuji pouted and scooted closer to you under the kotatsu. “Wh--we're brothers! It's not even that weird!”

“It's weird as shit,” Sukuna offered as he reached out to rub your back.

“So not weird.” His honeyed eyes locked onto the small affection the older showed you. “Man, so not fair you guys are ganging up on me now that you're, like, a thing,” Yuuji whined and let his arms and chest flop across the table like a petulant child.

Sukuna smirked. “Jealous?”

You grumbled. “Sukuna. Don't start.”

Yuuji's ears turned bright red. “Jea–what?! No! I like girls like Jennifer Lawrence, not--I don't–”

“N'awe, little pup's tryna cope with losing.” Sukuna grinned wildly when Yuuji's head snapped up, pinning a deadly stare onto the older alpha. “Oh? Finally grow a pair?”

“Sukuna,” you warned again.

“You better shut it, dude,” Yuuji threatened next, and you knew it was a lost cause; two alpha brothers, both incredibly competitive, both pining for the same omega, spelled disaster.

Your partner laughed that familiar, ugly laugh–the sort that was too genuine and sounded borderline insane. “Or what? You gonna make me cry–”

Yuuji launched over the table in an instant, tackling his brother to the ground with a bratty snarl. You watched on, unimpressed, waiting for any signs of their wrestling turning into a serious fight, but it never came. So, you enjoyed it a bit. It wasn't everyday the two idiots played nice.

You rested your hands on your curved stomach while the two growled and snarled half-heartedly in their dumb attempt to subdue the other. Sukuna could've won in an instant, you both knew that, but he'd let Yuuji think he had a fighting chance for a little bit. It was part of the fun for him, letting his little brother gnaw on him like it'd do anything, letting him try to use his horrible jiu-jitsu skills on his older, bigger brother. It reminded you of–

“Oh,” you peeped when a rowdy kick jostled your hand. It didn't come from the boys, no, it came from the tiny tot inside you.

The boys froze and stared at you.

“Huh? What's ‘oh'?” Yuuji asked through his panting and straining. Sukuna had him in a headlock, one of his hands giving a brutal noogie to the younger's head.

“No, just–I think she kicked. Maybe not, I don't–” but your expression brightened with delight when another little throw hit your hand.

“No shit?” Sukuna grinned, waves of excited alpha scent rolling off of him. He face-shoved Yuuji away before sidling up next to you and pressing his palm against your stomach. You guided his touch to rest over the kicky hotspot, and sure enough–

Thump. Thump.

“Two kicks for your old man, hey?” Sukuna hummed, looking so damn triumphant.

“Hey, hey, I wanna feel!” Yuuji scrambled over like a nightmare and wiggled up on your other side, pointedly ignoring the snarl Sukuna sent his way. “Come on, it's my niece, chill out.”

Sukuna growled again, but you pulled his hand off to let Yuuji feel the little life making herself known. His eyes, too, lit up when those tiny thwacks battered his palm.

You looked up at Sukuna dreamily, making the other's ticked expression smooth down into just mildly-annoyed; if your omega wasn't threatened, then he wasn't going to threaten. Sukuna didn't think Yuuji would hurt you, absolutely not, but anyone who came near you, or so much as accidentally bumped into you, pissed Sukuna off, sending his over-protective instincts into overdrive. He always had to rely on you to know when not to react.

“That's so cool!” Yuuji squeaked. “She's seriously in there!”

“Where the fuck else would she be,” Sukuna grumped.

“Don't ruin his fun, Sukuna.”

“Yeah, don’t ruin my fun!”

“Yuuji’s banned from the house.”

“WH–HEY!!”

“Sukuna.”

“Heh.”

“What about gramps, then?”

Sukuna paused. His heart stopped for a long, long moment.

“What about him?” He answered, nonchalantly as possible. “Old fuck cut me off years ago.”

“He still cares,” Yuuji offered with a shrug. “And I told him about the pup ‘n everything.”

Sukuna frowned. “Yuuji–”

“You seriously think he doesn't give a shit? Dude, be real, the guy raised us.”

“That's generous.”

“Didn't you say you were leaving everything to Yuuji and ‘the old fart’ originally?” You cooed, unhelpful as ever.

Carmine eyes found yours. “...If he actually wants to meet her–”

“Awesome, I’ll let him know!”

“Oi, runt–”

But Yuuji jumped up and pulled his phone out, leaving Sukuna to wonder what he’d just gotten himself into while you laughed at his misery.

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x male reader #sukuna x m!reader #sukuna x you #jjk x you #male reader insert #male reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen reader insert #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #jujutsu kaisen x you

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the-modern-typewriter · 1 month

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A villain who doesn't want to harm the hero, is trying to take them down as gently as possible and thinks the hero is the one being crazy about this, while the hero is desperately fighting to protect the world.

Bonus points if the villain is the hero's big sibling or similar figure.

"Father wanted to put you in an institution," their sibling said. "There was no way I was going to allow that." They carded their fingers through the hero's hair, soothing, like they were still five years old and waking up from a bad dream. "Those places are awful. They'd hurt you."

"I can't move."

"It's okay. You're okay."

"The - the tea. You." The realisation of it choked off in the hero's throat. Sharp. Catching. Betrayal.

"I told father I'd handle it," their sibling said, almost absently.

"Handle me."

"Yes." Their sibling ducked to gather up the jagged shards of the fallen mug, depositing them on the coffee table. They met the hero's eyes. "Handle you."

The hero glared. They willed their noodled limbs to move, but all they got for their efforts was nearly crumpling to the floor again. Their sibling caught them, steadied them, pushed them back into the chair. The hero's heart thudded wildly beneath their palms.

"He wasn't having it though," their sibling continued. "He told me that you needed to be corrected, by any means necessary. He told me that it was just the place for a crazy person like you. That you'd bring shame on the family." They grimaced. "You know father."

The hero did, unfortunately, know their father.

They also knew their sibling though. They knew they were drugged up in their own living room, not being wrestled into a straight-jacket somewhere for some non-consensual therapy sessions.

"What did you do to him?" it came out raspy.

Their sibling smiled, small and grim. "He should have known better. Just like you should have known better, but you always were a little idiot, so no shockers there."

"...what are you going to do to me?" That was, perhaps, the better question. Their mind still felt sharp, after all, even if nothing in their body wanted to cooperate with them.

"Do you think I'd hurt you?"

"You hurt father."

"Father was a jackass. You're just stupid."

"I'm trying to make the world better!"

"Yeah," their sibling said. "Stupid."

"It's not stupid!"

"I'm not going to debate this with you."

"Just drug my tea!?"

"Eh, that was for your own good. For all his many sins, father wasn't totally wrong. You do need help. A friendly intervention."

"They'll come for me. My friends will come for me."

Their sibling shrugged. "I have no such reservations hurting them."

The hero swallowed. Their mouth still felt dry, sticky and cloyingly sweet. They searched their sibling's face for any sign of a lie. They found none.

"You know what father and his friends are doing is wrong," the hero said after a beat; maybe just frantic to see some glimmer of recognition of that fact.

Their sibling shrugged again, easy. "Sure."

"You could help us fight them. You could come with me. You could...keep me safe. That's what you want, right? To keep me safe."

"Your friends aren't going to kill you. You're perfectly safe like this."

"But what father's friends are doing - don't you - you have to care."

Their sibling raised an eyebrow.

The hero wanted to snarl. As ever, it seemed, their sibling did not have to care about anyone or anything. Who cared about the world if going along with monstrosity was easier?!

"Don't you care that I care?"

"You care about everything," their sibling rolled their eyes. "You held a funeral for the fish."

"He was my pet!"

"He was a fish."

"This is nothing like the fish!"

Their sibling straightened up with a sigh, looking down on them, hands on hips. "I've made my decision."

"Fuck you."

"I don't expect you to be happy about it, but you're gonna deal with it. You're underage. That makes you my responsibility. I'll let you go when this all blows over."

"You mean when father's friends finish wrecking the world?"

"Don't be so overdramatic."

"You drugged me and I'm overdramatic?"

"Overdramatic looks better on me. I have the cheekbones for it."

"This isn't funny!"

"No." Their sibling's voice shifted, abruptly. "It isn't. Do you want me to get serious?"

The hero...paused. The air suddenly felt oppressive.

"I am being very gentle," their sibling said. "And you are infinitely squishy and breakable. Father's institution would have crushed you into teeny tiny pieces, so shattered that you didn't even care anymore. You would kill your friends if they asked, by the time they were done."

The hero swallowed, stricken, horrified.

"Tell me again how unfunny this is," their sibling said. "Like you think I'm stupid."

The hero shook their head.

As swiftly as the storm had come, their sibling offered them a sunny smile. The tension vanished as they booped the hero's nose.

"We're going to get through so many film nights. It's going to be great. Now." They reached for the coffee table. "Have some more tea."

#villains and heroes #heroes and villains #sibling #writing #my writing #writing snippet #villains #heroes #writeblr

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lassieposting · 3 months

Text

Concept:

You are Bhaal, god of murder, and someone is praying to you.

And that's not necessarily unusual. Lots of people pray to you, usually for the untimely death of a rival, an ex-spouse, an overseer. The prayer itself is a small and broken thing, bloody and raw, whispered by a man whose vision is dulled by agony and the dark spectre of approaching death. The pathetic not-quite-survivor of some rather brutal torture, wishing murder upon his captor. You take a moment to enjoy the fear, the pain, the suffering - and then you tune him out. There are millions like him, and your favour is for those willing to do their killing themselves. Besides, that wretch will be nothing but a corpse all too soon.

Except...he doesn't die. You never feel that timid little spark of existence stutter and go out. Far beyond the breaking point of a mortal body, this one lingers on, clinging to being with fingers all but stripped back to bare bone.

It's intriguing enough to warrant a second look and - interesting. The prayer comes from a vampire, a pretty little corpse becoming an even prettier corpse under the skilled hand of a cruel master.

It is not in your nature to intervene. You favour the strong, not the weak. The master, not the slave. Your first instinct is to leave the wretched little thing to his fate.

But the thing is. Your child - your favourite child, shaped from your own flesh, coldest and most brutal of your progeny - has gone and got a boyfriend.

And you don't like him.

You don't like the effect he's having on your chosen, the way they're becoming distracted, attached, less devoted to their true purpose. And right now, your nature takes a back seat to your desire to get rid of that smug, arrogant little Baanite whelp, Enver Gortash. Your granddaughter's spiteful machinations have given you an opening, but you know they're bound to run into one another eventually, and it will all start over.

The vampire is beautiful. Well-trained. Accustomed to brutality. Already purged of sympathy and compassion, eaten up inside by hatred and bitterness and harm. And immortal; able to survive the worst of your son's inclinations. At this point, he'll do.

So you redirect a nautiloid. It's not that you're showing the creature any favour - it's just pragmatism, really. He is simply a tiny piece of a very large puzzle.

And then you watch.

You watch the vampire take the spectacular murder of a young bard in stride.

You watch him identify your memory-addled, sanity-challenged offspring as the most dangerous one in their sad little group of unwashed tragedies - the strongest protector, the solution to his fear of being discarded or returned to his master.

You watch him expertly lure your progeny into a pit trap of sex and lies and manipulation, dressed up with honeyed words and an exaggerated performance of desire.

Your child comes face to face with Enver Gortash and remembers nothing - feels nothing. They only have eyes for Astarion, and you are filled with satisfaction. The vampire is pathetic and fearful now, but already he plans to take over his master's ritual, and then he will be perfectly placed to feed your child's very worst impulses, to bring out the sharpest edge of the darkness inside.

You watch the vampire say, "I want us to be real."

You watch your child happily become a glorified comfort blanket, your masterwork living weapon reduced to little more than a prey animal, a do-gooder, a sacrifice.

Watch them vow, "I will be the person you see in me."

Watch them talk the blasted creature out of going through with the ritual at all.

Watch them start fighting their own nature for the pantomime love of someone else's broken toy.

Watch them turn on you.

And you decide, with the benefit of hindsight, that Enver Gortash was not that bad, actually.

#bg3 #durge #astarion ancunin #durgestarion #bhaal #i just think it would be really funny if bhaal played himself trying to get rid of gortash by setting durge up with astarion #and completely underestimating the power of falling deeply in love and astarion's sad wet cat eyes

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memories-of-ancients · 16 days

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Just curious, why do you think Rome fell?

OMG do you really have to ask such a big question right before I was going to bed anon? Well, here are the primary reasons IMO as a Roman history buff.

Lots of Civil Wars --- The Romans going way back to the days of the Republic were constantly fighting over who was going to be boss. Sulla fought a civil war and took over Rome and declared himself dictator, ditto Julius Caesar, and of course Octavian did the same and became the first emperor. During the empire there were many civil wars over who would be emperor as the Imperial system often lacked rules for succession resulting in dynastic struggles and civil wars. Not that it would have mattered if they did, as they probably would have just ignored the rules. In the 3rd century the empire underwent a 50 year period of near constant civil war known as the Crises of the Third Century. Constantine became emperor after killing all his opponents in a civil war. The later half of the 4th century had more civil wars. Even in the 5th century factions were fighting each for control of an empire that was collapsing all around them. No side wins a civil war because they are bloody, destructive, there are no spoils of war. There is only self destruction, they are about as helpful to a country as would a person shooting himself in the foot. All the money and resources that went into fighting civil wars and rebuilding after the war was money and resources not being used to maintain infrastructure, maintain public works, regulate the economy, defend from outside threats, and maintain the government.

2. Political Instability --- Most emperors did not die of natural causes, most emperors were murdered, or committed suicide, or died in battle, or died in a prison cell. Roman government was chalk full of power hungry psychopaths who were willing to murder their way to the top. Sometimes emperors could come and go quickly, with reigns lasting 2-3 years or less in the 3rd century.

youtube

Roman political history was rife with intrigue, assassinations, and coups occurring all the time. It was like Game of Thrones except instead of lasting 8 seasons it lasted 500 years.

3. The Army Became a Powerful Interest Group --- If you were a Roman emperor the army was a double edged sword. They were good in that they maintained peace and order in the empire and protected it from invaders. They were bad for you in that they could revolt and murder you, replacing you with someone they liked more. Even your own guard, the Praetorian Guards, couldn't be trusted as they could easily slit your throat in your sleep and declare someone else as emperor. To make sure the army was happy, you gave them big pay bonuses called donatives. Basically official bribes paid to keep the soldiers of the army loyal and happy. With each successive emperor the annual donative became bigger and bigger and thus a greater strain on the Imperial Treasury. If an emperor didn't pay up, he could be murdered by his own soldiers. Thus a lot of public money was paid just to keep the army happy so they didn't end up starting another civil war.

4. A Fucked up Economy --- Maintaining a large standing army to defend a large empire is expensive. Fighting civil wars is expensive. Rebuilding after civil wars is expensive. Constant regime change is expensive. Political intrigue is expensive. Eventually it got to the point where there just wasn't enough money to pay for all that. So emperors just minted more money, decreasing the silver content and minting more copper coins until eventually Roman money became worthless.

Today Roman money is still worthless. Go on ebay and find the cheapest Roman coins you can buy. Except for rarer collectibles Roman coins are still very plentiful and thus very cheap to collect. Worthless money made trade and commerce difficult, and thus the economy suffered. Not to mention constant bloody and destructive civil wars were damaging the economy. Political instability also damaged the economy.

5. Growing Disparity in Wealth --- Over time with civil wars and political instability the rich got richer and the poor got poorer. Eventually wealth became so concentrated in the upper class that the middle class disappeared entirely by the late 4th - 5th century. By then the average Roman was in a bad way. They had no opportunities and most Romans were forced to live as tenant farmers, essentially sharecroppers.

6. A Corrupt Tax System --- Meanwhile the wealthy became so powerful that they were able to wield that power so that they did not have to pay taxes. They could exploit loopholes, manipulate laws in their favor, or bribe their way out of paying. To try to make up the revenue, tax collectors attempted to squeeze the lower classes, which of course, didn't have any money. Thus by the late 4th - 5th century the empire was severely underfunded. This resulted in the degradation of infrastructure, public works, the army, the weakening of the government, and less investment in the economy and commerce.

7. Patronage --- By the 5th century the average Roman was out of opportunities and the middle class was gone entirely. More and more the lower class Roman was being squeezed for tax money, money which they didn't have. So in order to survive, Roman lower classes sold their services to a wealthy patron. The patron would house you and protect you and take care of your tax problems. If you were lucky and had special skills like a craftsman or artist you could make a good living under a patron. If not, you probably ended up a tenant farmer tied to the land of the patron, essentially a sharecropper, a serf, or a peasant. Due to this change in the socio economic system power was drawn away from the Imperial government and was redirected to the wealthy patrons. Thus the empire was becoming decentralized.

This would become the basis for medieval feudalism.

8. No One Wanted to Join the Army --- Why would you? You're dirt poor and have no opportunities. If you joined the army you may not even get the opportunity to defend the empire, as you're gonna get killed in a stupid civil war fighting a fellow Roman who is also dirt poor and has no opportunities. Your government is corrupt, your emperor is a snobbish entitled incompetent dipshit who was out of touch with reality, the tax man is trying to squeeze you for money you don't have, you have no rights, you've been forced to become a peasant to a proto-feudal lord, and it is clear the empire is dying. By the mid 5th century most Romans were like, "let it fucking die". As a result, the army suffered severe manpower shortages. Right at the time when Goths and Franks and Vandals and Huns are going to start swarming into the empire.

These to me are the primary reasons for the fall. Anyone have anything else to add in addition to this?

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yandere-writer-momo · 11 months

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reader this partner Pickle, who has already claimed his mate, leaving a tooth mark and a bunch of his marking territorial warnings on other people's skin (maybe the tooth marks are not visible under his clothes).

Pickle lets the reader walk and socialize, knowing that communication and sociality help people, but when someone pays attention to his date? He shows up unexpectedly, driving competitors away from his person and taking to the nest to leave new tags.

can get headcanons where Baki, Katsumi, Retsu, Jack, or Oliva might be flirting with the Reader (maybe they love Reader) without paying attention to Pickle's territorial tags, or not knowing who the Reader's partner is.

So I’m going to take this to another level. How about oblivious reader with Pickle who believes he’s your mate (he’s delulu)? It’s all because you smiled at him.

His bite would hurt too much and probably kill you.

Yandere Baki Head Canons

Pickle x oblivious AFAB reader edition (plus the yarem)

Minors Do Not Interact

TW: Scent marking, animalistic behavior, and Pickle

Pickle

You were the only female fighter amongst the others that challenged him. And rather then be scared of you, like he was Jack, Pickle was entranced by you. While he took the men smiling him as a challenge, he took your look as an invitation. Pickle was more than willing to accept a strong female like you as his mate

Pickle follows you around like a dog. His form not far from you at all times. He’s always cooing over you and trying to gift you various animals he hunted. It’s very strange to you but you don’t question him. Maybe he’s being friendly?

Pickle scents the entire outer perimeter of your house much like a dog or cat. You noticed a strange pungent scent every time you came home after a long day but you didn’t think anything of it. There must be more cats around than normal

Pickle begins to try fighting off the other competition. He growls and swats at the other fighters who smile and talk with you. He will not share. He is the strongest male and he’s the only one with the right to claim you

Pickle starts taking his courting more seriously, even when you cover your nose when he’s around (he smells so bad). He still tries to woo you by bringing you large game and various trinkets he finds. Choose him. Mate with him

He tries to kill Hanayama when he notices the yakuza gifting you flowers and you accept them. The two men are fighting until they’re both covered in blood and their bones are broken. Pickle is so thrilled when you fret over both injured men. He takes your care as you accepting him

Pickle starts to break into your home more often and tries to lay in the bed with you, but you always kick him out. He smells awful. That’s when you decide to take it upon yourself to clean him

Pickle follows you into a river as you go swimming. You almost threw up when you noticed how the water changed colors when he got in. The Neanderthal mimicking you as you kept dunking yourself in the water. Was this some sort of mating ritual? He accepts! He’s having a lot of fun copying you but he really wants to know when you’ll mate with him

You’re slowly able to get Pickle to allow you to use soap on him. You teach him how to wash himself but demonstrating on your fully clothed self. He copied you in interest. He really enjoys this game the two of you are playing (he believes it to be a game)

He finally has a tolerable scent by the time you’re done. It’s a massive improvement

Pickle still chases away your suitors. He chases away Jack, Katsumi, and Hanayama all the time. He throws rocks at them all the time when the male fighters try to gift you things. Why can’t they understand that you’re his mate?! You accepted Pickle and he accepted you

Pickle ups his scent marking game and he starts rolling his (clean) body around your sheets now. The caveman wrapping his body over yours while you’re asleep. His tongue and teeth are lightly dragged across the bare skin on your neck and back to try to leave a mark on you. One that will make them understand you’re his

Pickle starts being more touchy. He will pull you into his lap so he can check your hair for any snacks (bugs). He loves how small you are compared to him. Pickle also swipes your snacks from your bag. He adores when you feed him

Pickle starts trying to get you to groom his hair as well. He loves when you comb his hair with a comb. It feels so good on his scalp

Pickle nips at Katsumi whenever the karateka tries to hold your hand. Pickle picks you up and physically moves you away from Katsumi. Sometimes he puts you up in a tree. His actions don’t deter Katsumi at all

Pickle throws Katou across the room when he tries speaking to you. Just yeets him like a ball. Pickle is super possessive of you (it rivals Hanayama)

Pickle slaps Jack across the face when the blonde smiles at you. Jack is not allowed to challenge you (apes smile at each other for intimidation). Pickle is terrified of Jack but he’s willing to stand up to Jack to keep the blonde monster away from you

Pickle snarls at Baki whenever the redhead gets too close. He beats on his chest and growls, trying to make himself look bigger whenever Baki so much as turns his head in your direction

#baki hanma #baki the grappler #baki son of ogre #baki x reader #baki the grappler x reader #yandere #yandere imagine #yandere fic #yandere baki #female reader #pickle baki #Baki #baki headcanons #grappler baki #baki dou

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clementine-thedestroyer · 6 months

Text

Kinktober day 15/16: Pegging + feminization - Scaramouche x reader

Warnings/tags: Pegging, feminization, fem!reader, Scaramouche is a brat but there’s not really any brat taming. A healthy dose of humiliation, reader being a bit of a brat too.

I mean, I think the title explains it pretty well… I can’t believe I actually posted this.

“This is stupid.” Scaramouche huffed, pouting as you snapped away with your phone camera, planning on preserving his humiliation securely in your camera roll.

He stood in front of you in a light purple pleated miniskirt, a loose white shirt sleeved crop top, and a massively oversized purple jacket you had dug out of the bottom of your closet.

He had done this to himself. He had no one else to blame, honestly. He shouldn’t have made the bet if he wasn’t willing to follow through.

It had taken a bit of a fight, but you had eventually gotten him to hold up his end of the bargain, and god was it worth it. Because now you had your absolute brat of a boyfriend in the most compromising position imaginable, and you were free to have your fun with him for an hour.

“I swear to god, once this is over, you’re going to regret this.” He hissed, glaring at you.

“Oh I’m sure I will.” You responded smugly, cackling as you put a cutesy pink filter over one of the photos you had just taken.

Scara groans, rolling his eyes as he tugged the skirt lower, trying to get a bit more coverage from the, admittedly, very short skirt. “Are you done yet? Can I take this shit off?”

“You said I had an hour, I’m using that hour, Scara.”

He grumbles, rolling his arms and huffing in his usual manner.

You can’t help the grin from sneaking onto your face, turning away to hide it as you give him his instructions. “Get on the bed, on your back.”

In the background, you can hear Scara grumble a protest (something-something, opportunistic pervert) along with the creak of the bed frame as he, in the end, does as he’s told. You ruffle through a bin hidden in the back of your closet, smirking as you find what you’re looking for.

You walk up to him holding the item behind your back with what you’re sure must be an unsettling grin, at least judging by the way his leg is jittering and his eyes dart over you with thinly veiled worry.

You smirk, taking your arms out from behind your back and showing Scaramouche what you have.

A glittery bright purple dildo- in all its excessively hyper feminine glory.

When he sees it, his face drops. “Oh hell no. You are not using that on me.” He growled, scrunching up his nose and giving the overly girly dildo a down right nasty look.

“Oh hell yes. You lost the bet, remember? It’s only fair that you hold up your side of the deal.” You say, smirking as Scaramouche glared at the piece of plastic like it personally pissed in his oatmeal.

You plop yourself onto the bed, swinging your legs up and onto the mattress as you scoot towards Scaramouche. If looks could kill, you’d be a fully decayed corpse right now…

Although the intimidation factor of Scaramouche’s well practiced dirty looks and glances is massively undermined by the fact that he’s achingly hard, dressed in a your clothes, and practically trembling- his eyes following you and the toy in your hand like a cat’s to a feather.

“Poor boy, you’re trying to be all scary- but you can’t help how needy you are, can you?” You ask, reaching to your side and ruffling through the drawer of your nightstand, looking for lube. You can’t help the boost to your ego that comes with how thickly he swallows as you pull out the bottle.

You move back over to Scara, tapping the insides of his thighs in a silent command to spread his legs bad make room.

Once he does, you slot yourself between them, grinning when you glance up and catch the sight of Scaramouche’s bright red half-turned-away face- the back of one of his hands resting against his mouth as his blush steadily deepens.

You grin, leaning forward and spreading his thighs further apart, tapping the side of his hip and giving the simple command of “lift up”.

When Scara does as he’s told- lifting his hips so you can hook your fingers in the waistband of his boxers and pull them off, but leaving the skirt- you can’t help the smile that creeps onto your face.

“Scara, have I ever told you you have a really pretty cock?” You ask, gently running a finger along the head and down his shaft. Scaramouche doesn’t respond, clenching his teeth and drawing a shaky inhale at the feather-light touch.

“You’ve gone awfully quiet, Scaramouche.” You chime teasingly, laughing when all that he respons with is a choked “S-Shut up-”

You lean forward, kissing his cheek and stroking his hair sweetly, giving him a moment of softness before pulling away and letting your face go back to a slightly condescending smirk. “Come on pretty boy, you know you gotta ask for it if you want it.”

Scaramouche’s eyes harden- snapping to you with an outraged look before remembering himself, biting his lip and looking away with a glare.

“I’m waiting.” You say, fiddling with the cap of the lube bottle as you feign impatience.

“You’re the one who wanted to do this. I’m not fucking begging.” Scara replies, spitting out the words like they were poison.

“Then I’m not fucking you.”

“Fuck me. Please.” Scara growled, flopping his hand down onto the pillow and looking away as he mumbled out his half-assed ask.

You grin cheekily, tapping your finger against your cheek and tilting your head in a way that you knew would piss him off. “Hmmm, I’m gonna need you beg a little bit prettier than that.”

“Just fuck me with the damn toy already! I swear to god! You’re such an ass sometimes!!” Scaramouche glares up at you- looking a bit like an angry cat just dumped in a bucket of water.

You laughed, giving in and opening the bottle of lube, squirting a decent puddle onto your hand before tossing it to the side, but still within arm’s reach. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m working on it.”

You coat your fingers, spreading a bit on your other hand before taking Scaramouche’s cock on your hand, jerking him slowly as you start to open him up on your fingers.

Scara tenses up as your fingers enter him- scrunching his face up like he just tasted something sour- at least until you give him a light swat on the ass, a stern command to “relax” falling from your mouth like second nature.

He does as he’s told, taking a deep breath and working to relax his body as you rub a circle into the bottom of the head of his cock with the pad for your thumb, paying further attention to the spot when you’re rewarded with a loud groan for your efforts.

You smile at his noises, working him open gently and slowly while making sure not to hit his prostate yet, instead paying all your attention to the head of his cock.

After a moment, you slip a second finger in, briefly taking your hand off his cock and reaching up to slip your hand under Scaramouche’s top. You grin at Scara’s startled yelp when you grab a handful of his pectoral muscle- squeezing and groping the flesh as he squirmed.

“Pretty tits.” You say, moving your hand to pinch at his nipples.

“I’m not pretty.” Scaramouche growls, a bit embarrassed at your attention to his chest, trying to slip his hands under the relatively skimpy crop top to protect himself from any further gropes or pinches.

You laugh, relenting and pulling your hand away, as you go back to jerking him off.

“You are very pretty. Scara, all the time and everywhere, but especially with this skirt and top.”

He grumbles, mumbling some snarky response or other- only to stop and watch as you press a kiss to the side of his cock, swiping your thumb over the slit and taking his precome, letting it mix with the lube as you spread it over his cock.“See? Look, I told you that you were pretty. Look at this cock, it’s so pretty, Scara. Just look at how needy it is.” You coo, looking up and grinning as Scaramouche turns his face away.

“You know, turning your face to the side doesn’t help when your ears and neck are bright red too.”

When you tease him, he turns his furiously blushing face back to you. Opening his mouth to retort, you press your fingers upwards and into his prostate, relishing in the strangled moan that fell from him instead of his usual snappy comebacks.

At that, you deem him ready. The toy was pretty small anyways- he shouldn’t have any trouble. You take his distraction as an opportunity, pulling your fingers out, grabbing the toy, and hooking an arm underneath Scaramouche’s knees. You bend him over himself, pushing his knees beside his chest and holding him there, giving him a lewd view of his wet cock against his stomach and of you holding the toy, grinning at how he whined when you moved him.

Before he could speak, you push the toy inside, leaning over to speak against his ear as you mercilessly hit his prostate spot-on over and over. “Pretty boy, you’re doing so well for me. Look at you in this cute little skirt, taking the toy so well. Such a good boy.”

Scara yelped- tears gathering in the corner of his eyes as you bullied his prostate- whining and squirming as your pace ratched from about a 4 to a 10.

“See? Look at that pretty cock, do you even need it to cum? Cause I think you can come just from this, can’t you?”

Scaramouche sobbed, his eyes squeezing shut as he tried to reach his hand up to jerk himself off, only for you to grab his hand and pin it under his own body weight.

“No no no- I need- I needa- I-“

You shush him, still pinning him down as you flip a switch at the base of the toy, stopping your movements and instead grinding it almost painfully against his walls instead- watching as Scara seized and twisted in pleasure as the vibrations started up.

“No, no. You don’t need your hand, Scara. You can do it, I believe in you.”

You ground the toy into his prostate as his body tensed and he came with a shout, not stopping even as he spilt cum all over the skirt and crop top, even managing to get a bit on his face.

Once he comes down, you turn the vibrations off, gently unfolding him from himself and pressing kisses to his temple, wiping his tears away and holding him tight as he came down.

You kiss him gently, giving him a tight squeeze before pulling away a bit.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, okay pretty boy?”

He glares, still clinging to you like a lifeline even as he scoffs and turns his nose up at you. “Don’t call me that.”

“Why not? It’s true!”

“No it’s not!”

“Grump.”

“Opportunist.”

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

#scaramouche x y/n #scara smut #scaramouche smut #genshin scara #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x reader #scara x you #scara x reader #scaramouche #sub scaramouche #scara x y/n #smut #genshin fanfic #genshin smut #fem reader #fem!reader #kinktober 2023 #kinktober

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ddollfface · 3 months

Text

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭

𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗦𝗶𝗰𝗸!𝗔𝘁𝗵𝗹𝗲𝘁𝗲 𝘅 𝗮𝗳𝗮𝗯!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

"You should stay up, I wanna keep flirting with ya';)))"

Trigger Warnings: reader is describe as "good girl", yandere behaviors, insinuation of abduction, some unwanted groping (not done by yandere), LoveSick!Athlete is delulu, possessiveness, a shit tone of manipulation, talking about LoveSick!Athlete's childhood (it was bad), bad writing, yandere invalidating reader's rightful anger/emotions. If I missed anything, then please let me know ♡ Just a yandere alphabet about my favorite boy. If you want more on him, or having any ideas, then send some requests! Or if you want to see a yandere alphabet for any other characters I've written about, then do that too!! (not proofread btw)

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Okay, so I've touched on how LoveSick!Athlete shows their affection, but to expand on it, he is very, very touchy. He's always gotta hand on ya', never letting you further than a few feet away from him. It's not nessarily out of possesivness as he's pretty laid back as a yandere, but it more so comes from a place of wanting to take care of you. Not in a fatherly way! God no, that gross lol, but it's more so in the way of a husband providing for his wife. He wants to take care of you, watch over you, and just show you that he's the best option for you. He knows he's the best, but he's just gotta make sure that you know that too!

Another factor is that he comes from a very, very big family that's very physical with each other. His mother would always greet him with a hug, she still does now! He's the same. He's very touchy with both his friends and his darling. With his friends, he's patting them on the back, ruffling their hair, or wrestling with them. It's the same with his darling. LoveSick!Athlete is naturally playful, so he'll want to playfight with you. He wants to mess around with you! He wants to hold your hand, loop his arms around your shoulders, and pull you close. LoveSick!Athlete just finds the warmth of another person to be comforting, just knowing that your heart's still beating, and your brain's working puts him at ease.

Now, does it get intense? Well, it depends on the person. Say, you're not a very touchy person and you show your love through other means, then yes, it will be. Being with LoveSick!Athlete will be a constant tug-of-war as he'll have a hard time understanding your boundaries of not wanting to be touched. I mean, you're friends, right? Yeah? So then what's the big deal?

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Surprisingly, he won't get too aggressive with others. He's literally the embodiment of 'wear whatever you want, I'm tall and I can fight', no joke. He doesn't care too much what you wear. If anything, he prefers it, seeing as he gets to show you off to all the losers on campus.

If a guy gets too touchy or makes you uncomfortable, then he'll step in and teach the guy a lesson. He's an athlete, so he's strong and capable of fighting someone. Will he kill someone for you? Sure, depends on the situation. LoveSick!Athlete leans more towards mental forms of manipulation than physical violence. He gets enough of that in the rink too much to be bringing that into his relationship. For a brute, it's surprising how level-headed he is, or how he seems to be.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Hmmm, how do we define "abducted"? 'Cause LoveSick!Athlete doesn't techinically kidnap his darling, instead he slowly isolates them from their social circle, gradually becoming their only safety net. It gets to the point where you'll come over to his house and just never leave.

But let's just say we're counting this as abduction (I do lol), then nothing really changes. LoveSick!Athlete treats you the same. He's still touchy, affectionate, happy, and laid back. He's pretty confident in his ability to convince make you stay with him.

LoveSick!Athlete doesn't do mocking, especially not toward his darling that's reserved for the pigs who perv on you. He's a little more forceful with his affections, only if you aren't behaving like a good girl. If you aren't fitting into his ideal view of a relationship, then he won't be too pleased, but he's patient. He can wear you down.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

He'll force you into a relationship, into giving him affection, etc. Though you don't really realize this until it's too late. The thing with LoveSick!Athlete is that he's a mass manipulator. Honestly, he should get paid for how good he is at it.

LoveSick!Athlete will trick the people around you into believing that you two are in a relationship, not denying any allegations against you two. He'll brag to his teammates that he's got the sweetest girl in the uni. You'll be confused as hell when a bunch of hockey players are sneaking glances at you from the bench, trying to creep a peek at the Captain's new girl. Though he won't tell you, just stating that people must see the chemistry between the two of us. It must be a sign, yeah? And blah, blah, blah.

He'll whisper some sweet words laced in honey, causing your cheeks to grow warm and hands to become clammy. It's the same with affection. When you're just friends, he'll wrap an arm around your shoulder, intertwine your hands with his, and place a hand on the small of your back. All these actions are too small to think anything of, but they just put you off. I mean, it's nothing to get too worked up over.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bear to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

You see, LoveSick!Athlete does love you, no, really. He does, with all his heart, but that thing is that he's used to wearing a mask. He's constantly playing up the "popular jock" stereotype. He has to be cool and get all the ladies. That's just his 'mask', if you will.

But with you, it feels like he can be real, y'know? Of course, this will take time and will likely only happen after he's abducted you and you've figured out all the shit he's been doing behind your back. Once he feels like he's gotten all the hard stuff out of the way, like the threatening, lying, and more, he'll drop the mask. The persona isn't too far different than the real him. The real him is a lot less cocky, more self-assured, and calm. LoveSick!Athlete, the real him, is far less brash and cheeky, instead, he's more sluggish. He acts more like a smitten fool, feeling secure in his relationship with you. Without the mask, he's just a normal dude who wants all your affection. He doesn't know how to handle this overwhelming sense of need he feels for you, the need to provide for you, protect you, and prove himself to you. And this primal need to feel useful is what drives his yandere tendencies.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Meh, he doesn't care too much. If anything, he finds it amusing. He might tease his darling, but not mock them. He'll try to resolve the situation with a level head, trying to calm you down. He'll use different manipulation tactics like gaslighting, guilt-tripping, playing the victim, and more. It all really depends on what you do, honestly. LoveSick!Athlete is a very patient person, surprisingly, so it'll be difficult to make him overly pissed off. You'd have to do something very, very bad.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Nope, not really. Listen, LoveSick!Athlete wants comfort, he wants you. He wouldn't be pursuing and locking you away providing for you if he didn't see you as a viable partner! That'd be a waste of time, which he doesn't have.

Though, he won't deny that he finds it somewhat amusing when his darling tries to get rid of him. He more so, just wants to know the reasoning behind it, wanting to get in your head. He wants to know how you tick, what makes you think. This way he'll know how to break you down and make you his help you understand his point of view. He also just wants to know who you are.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Hmmm, okay, so this is going to get pretty grim, but reader's worst moment with LoveSick!Athlete would be when he let his teammates rough 'em up. You both had just gotten into an argument, something about you're relationship. Let's just say that you may have claimed screamed that you didn't need him. That you were fine on your own, that maybe, just maybe, you're friendship or relationship, in his eyes, was holding you back, and you may need to see different people.

Obviously, LoveSick!Athlete wasn't pleased with this, but he'd make you stand by your word. You think you don't need him? Okay, fine then. Try it.

And that's what he does. When his teammates, around three of them, begin to crowd you, their hands getting a little grabby, and eyes layered in lust. He doesn't do anything, I mean. Afterall, you don't need him, right? You don't need his protection, yeah? You're a big girl. Act like it then.

He watched as his buddies fondled you, touching you in places only he had. Your eyes flooded with tears, blurring your vision. You called out to him, begging him, wanting him to help you. You confessed, you needed him.

He made you repeat yourself, wanting you say it again. You do. That's all you had to do. Really, it was pretty simple. You need him.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Well, LoveSick!Athlete is a college student, so he's not thinking too far ahead. But he does know that he loves you. He wants you. He wants to be with you for the rest of his life. He wants to get a good job, not in athletics. He's good, obviously, but he knows that it's stupid to grasp at straws, so he's pursuing a program that'll help him get his associate degree.

He doesn't know if he wants kids, yet, but he won't deny that the idea of a mini him and you running around is a nice thought. But you're young. You've got time. Nothin' to rush, yeah?

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

I've already written about this in another post, soooo refer to it right here.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

I'm pretty sure that I've already gone over this in the previous letters, but I can kinda expand on it ig.

LoveSick!Athlete likes to show you off. You're his girl, his ride-ordie, y'know? He's proud of you and your accomplishments. He'll rave to anyone who'll listen, going on and on about your recent successes and such. He'll tell a random cashier about you, proceeding to get yelled at by the old lady behind him. In total, he's a lovesick puppy.

He's clingy but confident at the same time. He has to be touching you at all times, seeing it as his way of showing affection. He buys you things, you sucks up to you, and more. He's the definition of a simp, but he's more laid back. He's not necessarily in your face as he has a chill vibe to him, if that makes sense lol.

Idk really what else to say on that so yeah :)

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

He'll drive off any competition, scaring them off with his broad shoulders, and lean muscles. However, he doesn't really need to scare others off as most people get the hint 'cause he never stops talking about you.

Anyway, he'll force you to study with him, pretending to be stupid so that you'll take pity on him. This way he'll get you talking, wanting to listen to you just speaking. From there he'll ask you out to coffee.

Or he'll suddenly interject himself into your friend group, but no one will question it as he's too smooth. LoveSick!Athlete is very charismatic and a lot of people like him, so they wouldn't think much of it.

Overall, he'll listen to his darling, absorbing everything they say like a sponge. He'll try to see you often, this way you'll be absentmindedly thinking of him. He might even convince some of his buddies to talk about him to you, hyping him up and such. If you have any siblings, then he'll become buddy-buddy with them, especially if they're younger than you both. (He's good with kids btw).

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Literally, talked about this exact thing in letter E lol

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

LoveSick!Athlete doesn't really do punishments, y'know? It's mostly taking away privileges that you've given previously. For example, you'll have your favorite food taken out of the pantry, forcing you to eat oatmeal or something idk. Maybe, he'll take away your phone, make you do a shit tone of push-ups or something like that. The majority of the punishments he does are just inconvenient, nothing too scary.

But that's just for minor things. You try to run away or something, but there are certain things that make him "snap" if you will. Things like hurting yourself, trying to kill him, and insulting how well/well he takes care of you. Like the situation I described in letter H, if you insult it capabilities of providing and taking care of you, then he will spiral. And that won't be fun...

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Nope, out of all my OCS, I would say that LoveSick!Athlete is the most laid back. He doesn't care for too many things. Honestly, he's probably the best yandere to have if you're a brat. He'll humor you instead of squashing you, even though he could easily do so.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

I've already gone over this multiple times throughout this post. Lovesick!Athlete has the patience of an angel, which is surprising due to how aggressive he is in the rink.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

No, God no, he'll shut himself out. He'd likely quit his sport and never play away. He wouldn't be able to enter a rink again, there's no way. If you were to somehow die, then he'd fall into a manic depression, all of his patience wearing away slowly. He wouldn't know what to do with himself. When you were with him, he knew what he wanted in life. He had a picture of you and him, together with a little boy. The baby would've had your eye shape and his hair, dark curls. His whole life was there, just right there in his reach.

But say you were to successfully escape, he'd immediately going to try to find you. He knows that you wouldn't be able to go to the police, he's not stupid. He knows how to cover his steps, besides, he's a master manipulator. He's probably ruined your mental fortitude and he can do the same to the cops.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

No, not really. He doesn't believe that he abducted you, instead, he thinks that he just convinced you. That he just led you down the right path, to him. Everything does is fueled by his love for you, all he wants to do is be happy with you. That's all.

Sometimes he'll feel a little remorseful if his darling begins to close themselves up and lock him out (metaphorically), but he doesn't process the abduction as being the reasoning for the behavior. He just thinks that you're going through something, there's no way that he could be the problem, right?

He does feel bad, as he does have feelings, but he just doesn't associate your negative reactions/emotions with his actions.

And, about letting his darling go, no he wouldn't. He doesn't think he's holding them hostage in the first place! He just believes that he's keeping the relationship thriving. He doesn't think that your relationship is toxic (despite the constant gaslighting he puts you through), so he just wants to mend your relationship. I mean, just talk to him, there's no reason to be so rash!

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Let's just say that LoveSick!Athlete didn't have a father in the home, causing him to drift away from his family and spiral (at certain times). He never grew up in the most stable home, money was tight, and his mama was exhausted, having to care for four kids and all. And seeing his mama struggle so much caused him to want to be a provider, someone his loved ones could call for help. He wants to be the breadwinner, the person keeping you safe (both physical and monetarily).

The only problem is that he...well... doesn't really know what a healthy relationship looks like, seeing as his mama was never in one. Before his pa left (when he was two), he would beat his mama and siblings. Though LoveSick!Athlete doesn't really remember, as was just a babe at the time, y'know?

After that, his mama never stayed in one relationship for very long, besides him mama also wasn't the most stable person. She had BPD (Bipolar disorder), so she'd always have high highs and low low, never staying emotionally stable. Though LoveSick!Athlete doesn't have BPD, he did inherit some of his mama's habits, from watching her maneuver in her relationships.

Her habits imprinted on him, and let's just say that they weren't the healthiest thing in the world. This is where he got his good manipulation skills. At this point in his life, LoveSick!Athlete absentmindingly will use manipulation to get what he wants. Love bombing and gaslighting seem to be his main tactics he uses on others. (if people want to know more, then I'm totally open to an in-depth of his crappy childhood)

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Refer to letter R for this)))

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere

Noun. yandere (plural yanderes) (chiefly Japanese fiction) A character, usually a girl, who has an obsessive and possessive side in regards to their crush, ready to use violent and murderous means to maintain an exclusive bond. This is what google defines as a yandere and I'm going to use this as my basis for this question. Now, LoveSick!Athlete differs from this definition in the last part. He doesn't really resort to violent or murderous tendencies, instead using his manipulation skills to keep you close.

He doesn't feel the need to get violent, seeing as he's the best (in his mind). Don't get me wrong, he will if he needs to, but usually not.

I suppose that's something makes him different. Another thing is that he's very, very lenient with his darling, never putting too many boundaries on their shoulders. In his mind, he's in a normal relationship with you, meaning he doesn't need to act super crazy. Though he won't hesitate to take this privileges away from you, so just behave like a good girl, yeah?

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

The fact that he let's you go out into put freely or, more so, how many privileges you get. It's really easy to escape, no joke. But the only problem is that he has connections. Though he's only in college, and he's young, he has a lot of connections through his athletic scholarship and such. He knows a lot of people, due to his charisma (or rizz lol) and they're all under his thumb.

So it's easy to get out, but staying out is the hard part 'cause he'll hunt you like a dog on a misson.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Maybe he'll grip you too tight or give ya' a little spanking (if you know what I mean pffttt), but he'd never lay a hand on you. He wouldn't cut you, stab you, or anything like that. Nope. He watched his mama get hurt far too many times.

He just wants to be your protector, not your abuser. Though he can get a little out of hand. If you were to ever accuse him, or just plainly call his a woman beater, abuser, etc. etc. then he'll go a little... crazy?

He wants to feel needed, loved, and cared for, so if you start going on about how you don't need him, then he may be a tiny bit mad. Situations like the ones I talked about in letter H will happen far more often if you take this sentiment.

If you don't realize that you need him, then he might need to make you realize it. Of course, he won't be touching you so violently, but that doesn't mean he won't get someone else to do it for him.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

He doesn't worship his darling, but he does respect you. He sees you as his equal. If he didn't, then he wouldn't even be pursuing you. He wouldn't be spending so much time tyring to get with, going through all the work to infiltrate your life, and make you notice him. He doesn't have time for that, but he's making time just. for. you.

Now, how far would he go for you? I don't think he'd murder someone, he'd just rough them up, make them know their place. He doesn't really do violence, preferring public humiliation and underhanded tactics. He'll threaten people, blackmail them, and just plain gaslight them. He won't go any farther than that, unless he's provoked I suppose. Like if it's a dire situation where you, or him, need defending, then he's more than capable of putting a guy six feet under.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

As long as it takes, baby. He's young, you're young, you're both young. You guys have time to waste, time to life and such. You're both in college, so he thinks that he's got time to convince you, to reel you into his arms.

I've said this previously, but he's very patient. He's willing to wait if it's for you. But something that would make him snap is if you try to move away, though this won't push him to kidnap your necessarily, it'll just put him on edge. He'll begin to be more forward with his advances if this were to happen.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Accidently? Maybe. Purposefully? God, no. I'm even skeptical about the accident part, I don't think he can break you. He's far to calm and gentle of a yandere to break his darling.

You'd have to get him really, really mad for something drastic to happen. Even then, compared to other yanderes, it's not even that bad. Or that's what he tells you at least.

#𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡'𝙨 𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚'𝙨 #𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙘𝙠!𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙚 #yandere oc #yandere x you #yandere x reader #x reader #afab reader #lovesick #bad writing #obsessive love #yandere alphabet #yandere male #long post #tw; toxic love #manipulation #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x you #god this took foreverrr

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luvyeni · 7 months

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❛LOVE N’ DEVOTION❜ ( y. jeongin )

p. yandere!jeongin x yandere!reader w. 1.3k+

warnings? dark fic, toxic relationship, minor characters death, mentions of blood, oral sex ( m. receiving ), shower sex, rough sex, unprotected sex,

— 𖦹 ( both of you are willing to do crazy things to show your devotion for each other ) !

freaktober masterlist

you waited for the girl to walk away , excusing yourself , making your way over to the bar. “i'll have another margarita.” you asked the bar tender. “that will be 7.50.” he said. “i'll pay for it.” the boy handed over his card. “coming right up.”

you turned to boy leaning down , to where he could only hear. “she’ll die by the end of the night if she touches you again.” you whispered in jeongin's ear , anger and jealousy laced in your voice making the boy smirked. “really?” he loved seeing you like this , seeing how far he get you.

“and what about him.” He pointed to the guy across the bar who waiting for your return. “can i kill your date , if you kill mine.” the girl came back to the bar , just as the bartender , returned back with your drink. “your drink ma'am.” you thanked him , eyeing the boy as you walked away , still in earshot.

“innie.” you stopped dead in your tracks , jeongin taking notice of this. “innie who was that girl? do you know her?” the boy knew he should’ve chosen his next words wisely , but he couldn’t help himself. “no , just some girl.”

you bitterly made your way back to your table , ready for this date to be over.

jeongin watched you flirt extra hard with the guy , with a murderous glint in his eyes , how fucking dare that guy touch you like that , he’ll cut off every single one of his fingers for touching what’s his.

both of you knew you’d be here with other people , it’s the same routine – you break up , you find a random person to go on a date , knowing the other will show up , and at the end of the night both of you end up back at his house , covered in blood.

“jesus princess , all this blood.” he chuckled opening the door for you. “had the bitch not called you innie i may have let her live.” You took your heels off throwing them to the side. “keep it up and the cops will be sure to find you.” He closed the door.

“where is he?” he pointed to his garage. “i killed him already , he didn’t put up much of a fight.” you shrugged , “too bad he was cute.” he scoffed , his bloody hand wrapping around your throat , slamming you against the wall.

“princess you may have a few loose screws in your head , but you aren’t stupid , say some stupid shit like that again and i'll cut your tongue out.” he growled , squeezing. “you understand.” You nodded , and he let you go , you coughed. “now be a good girl and get on your knees.”

you obeyed , looking up at him through your lashes. “you’re hard even after killing someone.” You undid his jeans , letting them pool at his ankles , pulling at his boxer , his cock springing out , hitting his stomach. “says the slut covered in blood about to suck my cock.”

you took him into your mouth , but he quickly grabbed your hair. “if you bite me , i'll kill you.” he slowly moved your head , letting go while you kept going , bobbing your head up and down. “f-fuck that’s it suck my cock.” he groaned.

“if you don’t speed up , im gonna fuck your throat.” he grunted , but you ignored his request. “you’re really being a brat tonight.” he yanked on your hair , keeping it still as he thrusted into your mouth. “is it that girl -fuck- is it what she said?” he didn’t even let you answer before he , came with a grunt. “ngh , fuck!”

he let you go , spit and his seed dripping down your chin. “don’t mention that bitch.” you spat bitterly. “even her blood is making me angry.” he smirked , you truly were just as crazy as he was.

you weren’t always like this , you were once normal – that was until jeongin , he did this to you. when you first started dating , he was nice , but then as time went off , he began to slowly remove people out of your life , gaslighting you into thinking they were bad for you , and that you only had him.

you didn’t know how dangerous he was until one night he came home covered in the blood of some random guy he thought was looking at you. that’s when you should’ve left , called the cops , but you didn’t and everything just went to hell.

he'd find ways to break you , little by little , until those no longer worked , then he up the ante. while you continued to stay at his house , no one to go to , only having him , and he knew that – that’s when the girls came in.

he’d bring home random girls , not to sleep with them , but to put fear into your heart , that he could find someone better , when he knew he couldn’t , he was addicted to you , he just wanted to see what you’d do.

eventually , that fear boiled over and turned to anger , and that’s when you killed for the first time , and jeongin knew he had you forever , you were tied to him , you loved him and was devoted to him so much , that you’d kill just to be with him.

“you get so angry princess.” he pressed your naked wet body against the shower door , the blood mixed from your bodies making it’s way down the drain. “it’s so sexy.”

he held the flesh of your cheeks , spreading them , lining his cock with your hole. “fuck such a messy pussy , i can just-" you moaned as he slammed into you. “slide right in.”

he pulled out , pushing himself back into you. “fu-fuck jeongin!” you screamed as he fucked you , you gripped on to the side. “harder.” he slapped your ass. “you truly are my little pain slut.” he reached around squeezing you boobs , rutting his hips into you. “my crazy little pain slut.”

He pulled out of your hole , flipping you around , holding you up against the wall , wrapping your legs around his waist , filling you back up with his cock. “innie!” your nails raked down his arm , scratching his back.

“fuck.” he hissed , his hand once again coming up to your neck , his thrust hitting deeper. “my crazy girl , you’d kill for me wouldn’t you.” he squeezed. “y-you know i would.” you managed to get out. “say it then." he said. “say you’d kill for me.”

“fu-fuck innie , im gonna cum!” you screamed. “hold it , you’re not cumming until you say it.” You whined. “sh-shit , i will kill for you innie.” you cried tears spilling down your face. “good girl , you can cum.” you gripped his shoulders leaving more marks as you came.

he didn’t stop once you came , his thrust became more erratic , he was close to cumming himself. “you don't have to worry princess, im -fuck- im all yours , how many people do I have to kill to prove it to you.” he groaned. “i'll do it , i'll kill anyone I have to.” he felt the band snap in his stomach , cumming.

he let you down , holding you up due to your jelly legs. he helped you wash the rest of the blood off your bodies , turning the shower off. he carried your body to the bed , both of you not bothering to put on clothes.

“you have to get rid of his body.” you said. “i will later.” he wanted to wait for you to go to sleep. “you shouldn’t bring them back here anymore , im tired of cleaning up blood.” you whined. “i'll do it this time crazy girl.” you pouted. “don’t call me crazy , you’re just as crazy.” he chuckled.

“whatever you say darling.”

©LUVYENI

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pascal-princess · 10 days

Text

[ playing dangerous ]

a/n: this is my first ever fic so pls be kind!! also not proofread so any mistakes i apologise.

— warnings : dark fic (18+), joel isn’t what you think in this, domestic abuse! (not joel), drugging, dom!joel, big!joel/small!reader, age gap (not mentioned but it’s there, around 26 years), kidnap if you squint ig. + plus tommy.

“Joel it’s all kickin’ off next door man”

Tommy’s voice filled his ears through the phone as he sighed… not again… surely.

“What this time?”

“It’s that dude, I ain’t gotta clue what his problem is but she’s gettin’ the brunt of it yet again” Tommy’s eyes scanned through the blinds that were peeled apart by his fingers, peering into your window trying to get a good visual of what was going on.

This had been going on for the past few months, your boyfriend Rick had a bad gambling addiction… and based on his results you’d either get pounded brutally into the bed as his victory celebration, despite your cries. Or… like today; a hissy fit which every time without fail, resulted in bruises and tears, as his anger at his loss seemed to be all your fault.

This time; tommy could hear the heavy thuds of furniture being thrown across rooms, and twinkles of glass that smashed beneath your feet. He could hear the soft whimpers and sobs that left your body as Rick practically screamed at you.

“it’s all your fault you fuckin’ bitch, you make me do this”

“Joel what do i do, man? I can’t jus’ leave er’”

“Stay where you are, I’m comin’ home”

Joel hung up the phone and got into his pick-up truck and began the short drive home; he knew you were a sweetheart, a soft innocent angel who wouldn’t hurt a fly. You always smiled at him and even once baked him cookies, which he admired for a good few days before throwing his diet out the window, consuming the gooey chocolate chip delights you made. He couldn’t understand why you stayed, why you let Rick treat you the way he did. He also couldn’t understand how Rick could treat you such a way.

Maybe you were secretly an awful person, he thought… or hoped. Because the thought of someone as kind and caring as you receiving the exact opposite just because of the fact that you won’t fight back killed him inside. He refused to admit the feeling of jealousy that ached inside of him; but he often thought of what it’d be like to hold you at night, to be the man to make you smile, to wipe away your tears instead of being the dick that caused them.

His anger grew more and more as he approached his driveway, speeding up a bit as he swerved in and pulled to a halt, the tires screeching against the concrete. He threw open his door and made the short walk to your front porch, knuckles thumping against the wood as he waited for a response… that was when he realised… silence.

He banged again and called your name this time, willing you for a response. You could’ve heard a pin drop, and it was scaring him.

He was just about to kick the door down when he heard the lock of the door flick, and watched as it slowly peeled open, too slow.

“Joel?” your cracking voice called his name and he could’ve burst into tears himself.

“Sweetheart, ya’ alright?” he pushed open the door a little more to get a view of your face, and god he wished he hadn’t.

“Honey” He sighed, eyeing the swelling bruise that imprinted itself onto your cheek, the redness of your face from crying just intensifying it.

“Joel, please just go” you kept yourself hidden, yes, Rick was gone. He walked out as soon as he was finished releasing his stress, with the words “i’ll be back later” but you still felt the quivers of fear make their way through your body.

“I can’t do that, you know i can’t” His hands were placed on his hips as he scanned everywhere he could for more marks, and all he could see was bruises, old and new, littered across your arms. Even the softness of your feet covered in dried blood from stepping on the glass.

When that caught his eye he knew you needed attention.

“Right, you’re comin’ over so i can get ya cleaned up” He reached for your hand but you pulled back abruptly.

“I can’t, Joel. I can’t leave”

“Then i’ll carry you”

“You don’t get it!” you raised your voice a little louder to get the message across.

“You’re right, I don’t get it. But I ain’t gonna leave you alone right now so you either move, or I move ya myself”

You sighed, knowing he wasn’t gonna let up, so you made the brave decision to step outside… wincing as your feet made contact with the hard stone below you. Joel was there right away, scooping you up into his arms and hoisting you on one side of his hip as his other hand closed your front door. He eyed you for a moment, making sure he wasn’t hurting you before making his way over to his house.

All the fear coursing through your veins dulled as you felt joel’s touch, he was much bigger than you which at the start intimidated you, but now all you wanted to do was crawl into his embrace and let him take care of your problems.

Joel was one of your favourite people; when you moved in you two immediately hit it off, becoming very quick friends. From what you heard from Tommy, Joel wasn’t the type of person to be overly nice to everyone he meets, but you were different. He would always help you out when you had issues with the plumbing or gas, as Rick was never interested in doing any of that. He would bring over leftovers for you as he knew you struggled to eat after a particularly bad fight. Basically anytime Rick wasn’t there, Joel was. Insisting on taking care of you when things went wrong. Helping you get out of bed, and brushing your hair for you on the worst days.

Tommy was already waiting with the front door open, allowing Joel inside as he carried you through the threshold.

“She alright?” Tommy asked and Joel nodded slightly, taking you through to the kitchen and perching you up on the counter, picking up your leg and inspecting your foot for the first time.

“You gotta’ start wearing shoes, sweetheart”

You gave a slightly amused breath at his words but he wasn’t laughing in the slightest. He was angry.

Angry at me? you thought

He moved to one of the cupboards, pulling out a first aid kit and making his way back to you, pulling a stool over and sitting in front of your legs, pulling your feet into his lap and getting to work with the antiseptic.

“ouch!” you winced as the stinging made its way through your body.

“I know babygirl, m’sorry. i’ll just be a little minute more and then you’re done, m’kay?”

That was another thing that was unusual with Joel, his affection towards you. It was clear that he cared about your feelings, maybe it was just because he knew that you didn’t get much at home… or maybe… just maybe…

“All done, sweet girl” you were pulled from your thoughts as he placed the bloodied cotton pads onto the counter beside you and you winced internally at how much blood there actually was. He picked up a thin bandage and began to wrap each of your feet. making sure the cuts were covered.

“Thank you” you spoke quietly, even when he was finished he still held your feet in his lap, the warmness and softness of his jeans bringing you comfort. It made you yawn and made your limbs stretch slightly.

“You tired?” he asked. You shook your head, you knew he’d have you sleep here if you asked but you didn’t want an excuse to stay any longer, on the off chance that Rick was already on his way home.

“I better get going” Joel’s hands held onto your hips as you slid down off the counter, your feet feeling way better touching the floor than before.

“She ain’t leavin’” Tommy’s voice interrupted the both of you, you turned to face the younger brother who was standing in the door way, essentially blocking your exit.

“I-I have to”

“No frickin’ way!” Tommy protested, raising his voice a bit.

“Tommy” Joel warned.

“No, absolutely not! You think we’re gonna let you go back there after everything that sick son of a bitch has done? You’re fuckin’ crazy”

“You don’t understand” You spoke softly, a whimper caught in the back of your throat.

“No you don’t understand! You wanna fuckin’ die huh? You got some sorta death wish?” Tommy was stepping closer to you, not with the intention of intimidating you but out of pure frustration with you.

“Tommy! Back the fuck off” Joel stepped forward now too, both brothers exchanging looks that told you this had been more than a one time conversation. You couldn’t help the tears that burned your eyes, begging to be released, your lip wobbling with every breath.

Tommy was an incredible friend to you, but he was the harsher one out of the two brothers when it came down to you. Joel was better at hiding his true feelings but Tommy, wouldn’t let you hear the end of it.

“What if one day we ain’t there huh? what’s she gonna do? who’s she gonna run to? If she ain’t already dead by that point” his words were harsh and brought all your emotions to light.

“Stop it! please!” you burst into tears, chest tightening as your sobs began to wrack your body.

Joel was immediately at your side pulling you into his embrace tightly and running his hand through your hair, whispering sweet words.

“M’sorry, honey. But you ain’t leaving tonight and that’s final” Tommy spoke before disappearing into the hallway.

“He ain’t tryna be mean sweetheart” Joel whispered as you clung to him.

“I-I know” you spoke hiccuping through your words.

“He’s just worried about you, and so am I”

You pulled away from Joel’s embrace, wiping your eyes. Of course you knew it was wrong, Of course you knew you could get seriously hurt or end up dead. But if it was that straightforward you would’ve been gone a long time ago.

“Can you at least stay until i get some painkillers in ya’?” Joel asked, and it wasn’t a big ask at all… but to you it felt like a hefty question. But it wouldn’t hurt right? You could take the painkillers then head straight back home as if nothing happened.

You nodded and Joel gave a soft smile, and took your hand, leading you through the house and up the stairs.

“I keep everythin’ in my bathroom cabinet, jus’ better that way” he seemingly answered every question you had without you even having to ask.

He led you to sit on his bed as he went into the bathroom, rummaging for a few moments before returning with little white capsules in his hand, he reached into his night stand and grabbed an unopened bottle of water, twisting the cap and handing you both items.

He watched you carefully as you took the pills, swallowing them with water and taking a few more chugs of the water as you didn’t realise how thirsty you were. You handed the bottle back to him and he placed it back on his nightstand.

His room was so cozy, you had never been up here before. Shades of grey and black accented the room, lights dim and sheets soft, his bed big enough for 4 people never mind just him. You could tell this room probably wasn’t his idea as Joel wasn’t one to prioritise his own comfort. It was so cozy that your eyes began to droop, and your head began to sway.

“Lay down, babygirl” Joel instructed and even came to your side to aid you but you pushed him off.

“Nuh-uh I can’t, have to go home”

“Just lay down for 5 minutes, c’mon i don’t want you passing out” he insisted.

“M’kay, 5 minutes” He helped you lay down as you got comfortable on his plushy sheets, it was almost unusual how sleepy you were. You felt your eyes begin to shut against your will and felt your breathing begin to slow. You were falling asleep, but no matter what you did you couldn’t stop it from overcoming you. Your body drifting into a deep slumber before Joel’s eyes.

If only you’d of seen the bottle of sleeping pills sat out on his bathroom counter.

When you woke, it was way darker outside, an ambient light flashing through, you squinted for a minute until you realised it was police lights. You searched your surroundings realising you were wearing a t-shirt and bottoms that did not belong to you, and you were also laying on joel’s pillows, the covers atop of you. You threw the covers off and began to stand up, your sleepiness still coursing through your body. how long did i sleep?

You padded towards the window, looking out and gasping at the sight of Rick being pushed into the back of a police car, his protests actively ignored by the officers, you began to start panicking but something caught your eye, or someone.

Tommy stood on the front porch, a cigarette hanging from his lips as he watched the car drive down the street, the officer driving giving him a wave as they passed… they know each other?

“You’re awake” your body jolted as you spun round to face Joel, who stood in the middle of the room holding a mug of what looked and smelled like tea. He motioned for you to take the mug but you ignored him, eyeing him with a look of betrayal.

“I know you didn’t want this sweet girl but i-”

“Didn’t want this? Joel do you have any fucking idea what you’ve just done? He’s gonna get out and he’s gonna come straight for me, do you understand that?” you ran your hands through your hair, pacing back and forth and contemplating all of your options.

“Hey, hey, hey” Joel sat the mug down and walked over grabbing a hold of your shoulders and pulling you to him. “He ain’t gonna hurt you no more, understand”

You looked into his eyes and saw nothing but pure sureness in his eyes.

“He comes anywhere near ya i’ll kill m’ myself”… again, the sureness… but something else lurked in his irises, something dark.

“You’re not killing anyone Joel” you pulled out of his grip and began to walk away, searching for your lost clothes, rummaging through his wardrobe and under his bed.

“Where’s all my stuff?”

Joel sighed and walked over to you again.

“It’s in the laundry, why are you so desperate to leave? He’s not here anymore” You heard the frustration in his voice but why was he angry at you, it meant you could go home peacefully.

“Because it’s my home, Joel”

“This is your home” He said plainly, which in any other circumstance would’ve been sweet but you couldn’t shake the feeling of something being wrong.

“That’s kind Joel but I really gotta-”

“You think now that i’ve got you i’m just gonna let you go?” He chuckled.

The air shifted as you looked into Joel’s eyes that seemed to have nothing but pure lust for you, he had been drinking.

But it wasn’t until your eyes caught the little orange pill bottle sat open on the counter that it finally clicked. And he noticed when it clicked. His eyes followed yours and he sighed at his mistake, before giving a slight scoff.

“Sorry, probably shoulda’ put that away before”

“Joel?” You grew more and more frightened as the seconds grew by, this wasn’t your Joel. This Joel had something dark and malicious about him.

“Hey, it’s alright sweetheart” he came up and held your face in his hands…

“I’m gonna take care of you now”

a/n: please let me know if you want a part two i’d be happy to write one! any comments and reblogs are so greatly appreciated thank you so much for reading.

love, mila🎀

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #tlou fic #joel miller fic #dark joel miller #joel miller angst #the last of us x reader #no outbreak!joel miller #dark!joel miller #dark!fic #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x fem!reader

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