Can I request Ren and Ryuji jealousy headcanons? How would they realize, act and talk to their s/o etc
Ren Amamiya:
I can see Ren’s mind being conflicted over this.
On one hand, he dosen’t want to cause a scene since he trusts his partner to not encourage the behavior, as well as the fact that unless they give him signs that they clearly is uncomfortable and need his aid. He knows that they can handle it by themselves.
On the other hand, he wants to be casual about it, wanting to let this individual know that his partner is clearly taken.
Possibly swooping in to plant a kiss on their cheek whilst also behaving in the most gentlemen manner as possible.
There is this intention to embarrass the individual so much more than anybody would think he'd do.
"Hey, there you are, I've been looking for you since the day ended. Your schoolbag looks heavier than usual. Let me carry that for you."
His confidence is the very key here that makes his jealousy die down.
I do see a possibility of him wanting to take his partner to a date after the occurrence. He has to let his s/o know how much he adores them.
Ren is the kind to recognise his jealousy immediately and wouldn't act harshly to it at all. He expects it. He's aware that it's a thing and tries to be rational about it.
Unless the s/o dosen’t realise that he is jealous and speaks up about it, the topic will never be discussed.
He may tell Morgana to quit it if the cat teases him, but with you? He'll have rosey cheeks when telling you what he felt about the whole ordeal.
He's not ashamed, he believes in openly communicating vulnerabilities to maintain a relationship.
Still, he's a teenage boy with not that much experience in romantic relationships. He's bound to feel different levels of resentment at some points of his existence.
Ryuji Sakamoto:
With the golden retriever delinquent known as Ryuji Sakamoto, he flips the switch entirely.
The blonde wears his emotions on his sleeve, thus making his emotions visible and heard. So when he sees somebody starting to flirt with his s/o, his grin will quickly turn into a frown that is guaranteed.
Depending on how it goes, he could be rushing over, putting a hand on their hip or shoulder, and being semi aggressive to the flirtatious one.
"Yeah, they're real good looking, aren't they? Got their shit together, never fails at any subject, taken too, so back off."
Unlike Ren’s rational patience, Ryuji dosen’t exactly have that. He's a hothead, which means impulses first, thinking later.
If the s/o gets harassed, and it isn't an adult, that individual better prays for mercy cause Ryuji is capable of being more of a threatener.
His s/o needs to be careful and look out for him cause this moron will definitely create more trouble for himself.
For what it's worth, he's a protector at heart, and he means well.
Will never admit, though, that he was jealous, his baffled behaviour, including nervous expression, states otherwise.
Perhaps teasing him in an amused, kind-hearted matter will make him admit it in a low muttering tone.
His jealousy will have stems from insecurities, Ryuji has never had a partner before, so if something he never considered came up, he will be paranoid over trying to make sure that the relationship stays and work.
It will thankfully never be overbearing, yet he will hover over his s/o for a while.
He could need some head strokes and cuddles to feel better. He needs the affection, trust me.
The glass hit the table hard enough to slosh bourbon over the rim, but you didn't care. You were three drinks past your limit and the Varia celebration was still grinding on, all the subordinates too terrified to actually enjoy themselves.
"Xanxus~"
No response. He sat in his chair like it was a throne, jaw tight, watching the room with those scarlet eyes.
"Xanxus, I want to go upstairs."
"Then go."
"With you." You leaned into his arm, pressing your cheek against the sleeve of his jacket. Your body leaned heavily against his side and you made absolutely no effort to move.
"Take me to bed... pleeeaaase?~"
"Tch." He didn't look at you but his hand came up and gripped the back of your neck. Whether it was due to loss of patience or habit, it was hard to tell.
"You're a pain when you drink." he grumbled.
"And you're mean even when you're sober, so we're even."
That got the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth.
He stood without warning, hauling you up with him, and you stumbled into his chest with a surprised laugh. The room went dead silent seeing this, as every Varia officer suddenly found something fascinating to stare at on the far wall.
He walked and you kept up only because his hand hadn't left your neck, steering you through the corridor, up the stairs, all the way to the heavy oak door of your shared quarters before he shouldered it open.
You grabbed his tie before he could deposit you and turn around and yanked him forward, although he barely moved as his eyes dropped to your face.
"Stay~" you giggled.
"I wasn't leaving." he lied.
"You were going to go back down there and brood in your chair for another three hours." You pulled the tie again, walking backward, drawing him in. "I know you."
He kicked the door shut behind him and the lock clicked.
"Yeah." His voice was low, stripped of its usual bite. He looked at you standing there flushed and stubborn in the low light. "You do."
His mouth found yours before you could say another word.
TYL!Superbia Squalo
"VOOOIII! How many of those have you had?!"
You held up four fingers. Then reconsidered, and held up five.
"Oh, for fucks--sit down before you fall down!" Squalo grabbed your elbow as you swayed on the barstool, silver hair swinging as he whipped around to glare at the bartender. "Who kept serving her?!"
The bartender, a civilian contractor who clearly had not signed up for Varia-adjacent terror, went pale and backed into the liquor shelf.
"Squalo." You tugged on his sleeve. Then tugged harder. "Squalooooo."
"WHAT."
"You look really pretty tonight~♥" you curled a lock of his hair around your finger.
That shut him up for approximately one and a half seconds before he looked away from you to hide any evidence of a blush. "You're drunk."
"Drunk and correct." You leaned your full weight against him, arms looping around his waist, face buried in his chest. He stiffened, not because he minded, you'd been married long enough to know that, but because half the Varia was watching with open glee.
"Get off me. We're in public."
"No."
"That wasn't a request!"
"Carry me upstairs and maybe I'll let go." you grinned.
"I'm not--you can't just... dammit, FINE." He ducked down, got an arm under your knees, and swept you up like your weight wasn't a factor. You shrieked with delight as he stormed toward the staircase, face burning red, bellowing at anyone who so much as glanced their direction.
"EYES FORWARD OR I'LL CUT THEM OUT OF YOUR SKULLS."
He kicked open the bedroom door and set you on the bed with more care than his expression suggested. You kept your arms locked around his neck.
"Let go."
"Come here."
"I just carried you here, woman, what more do you--"
You kissed him. Messily and off-center, tasting like cheap prosecco. He made a strangled noise against your mouth and braced one knee on the mattress, his free hand fisting in the sheets beside your hip.
When you pulled back, he was breathing hard. That pretty face his flushed all the way to his ears.
"Door's still open," you whispered.
He walked back a few steps and slammed it so hard the frame cracked.
"Happy?"
"Getting there." You pulled him down again and he went down willingly this time.
TYL!Belphegor
"Ushishishi."
That laugh had been following you for the last twenty minutes. You sat at the end of the banquet table with your chin in your hand, cheeks hot, fourth cocktail mostly gone, and made a point of not looking at him.
"The princess is sulking."
"The princess wants to leave." You pushed the glass away and finally turned. Belphegor leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, crown tilted, grin already in place.
"Bel, I'm tired. Take me upstairs." you offered your hand towards his.
"Hmm. Ask properly."
You narrowed your eyes. "I'm your wife, dipshit."
"And I'm a prince." He tilted his head, blond hair shifting. "Rank supersedes marriage. Those are the rules." he shrugged.
"Those are your rules."
"Ushishi. Exactly."
You stood up, wobbled, and caught yourself on the table. His grin didn't waver, but he was beside you in two strides. A knife appeared between his fingers out of nowhere, flipping idly as he offered you his other arm.
"The prince will escort you. Since you're clearly incapable of walking in a straight line."
"How romantic."
"Royalty doesn't do romance. Royalty does obligation." But his hand settled on the curve of your waist as you walked, thumb tracing a slow circle against your hip through the fabric. The corridor stretched long and dim and his boots clicked an easy rhythm beside yours.
He opened the bedroom door and you turned, grabbing the front of his shirt, pulling him across the threshold.
His grin stretched wider. "Oh?"
"Get in here."
"The princess is bold tonight." He let himself be pulled, one step, two, until the door clicked shut and his back was against it. You pressed all of your weight against his lean frame and his chin dipped. Even behind that curtain of hair, you could feel his gaze on you.
"Tell me what you want." His voice dropped, the laugh finally absent from it. "Be specific."
"You. Now. Consider it another one your obligations."
He reached behind him and locked the door.
"Ushishi. Granted."
TYL!Dino Cavallone
You were leaning sideways on the couch when Dino found you, and his reaction was as predictable as the sunrise.
"Oh. Oh no, honey, how much did you--here, don't lean like that, you'll fall off the--ack!" He tripped over the coffee table reaching for you.
The head of the Cavallone family, beloved by many, undone by furniture yet again. Romario, standing by the doorway, pinched the bridge of his nose and looked away.
"Dino~" You reached for him as he caught himself on the armrest. "Dino, I want to go to bed."
"Yeah, okay, that's probably a good idea." He straightened up and pushed his hair back, that apologetic smile already forming. "Can you stand? Here, take my arm."
You took his arm. You also took the opportunity to lean your entire body into him, cheek against his shoulder, arms wrapping around his.
"Sorry," you mumbled into his jacket.
"For what? You're allowed to have fun." He pressed a kiss to the top of your head as he guided you toward the hallway. His stride slowed to match yours, patient with every uneven step as he looked back. "Romario, we're done for the night."
"Of course, Boss."
The walk upstairs took twice as long as it should have. You kept stopping to nuzzle into his neck, and he kept laughing though flustered, gently steering you forward.
He got the door open with one hand and walked you to the edge of the bed. "Okay, let me get you some water and--"
You grabbed his jacket and pulled causing him to stumble forward with a surprised yelp as he catched himself over you, one hand on the mattress, the other on your hip.
"Stay."
"I was just going to get you--
"Dino." You looked up at him, flushed, stubborn, still holding his collar. "I don't want water, I want you."
His ears went red and his smile became less composed. He exhaled, long and slow, and let his forehead rest against yours.
"You should really have some water..."
"I will, after we're done."
He sighed. "I suppose that's as close to a compromise as I can hope for."
TYL!Byakuran
He had been watching you all night as you finished your sixth marshmallow cocktail, which was his fault as he had them made specially, and the room was doing a gentle spin.
"Bya... kuran." you slurred.
"Hm?" He appeared beside you with half-eaten bag of marshmallows in his hand.
It was midnight at a Millefiore gala and the man was snacking on sugar.
"I'm calling it."
"Already? But the party is so fun." He popped another marshmallow into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "You haven't even tried the cake yet."
"If I try the cake, I will fall over."
"I'd catch you."
"Yeah, after my face falls into it... And after laughing on top of that." you murmured, smacking his shoulder lightly.
His smile widened a fraction. "Maybe. Maybe not. You'll never know unless you do it." He offered you a marshmallow and pouted when you pushed his hand away.
"Take me to our room. Please."
"Since you asked so nicely." He set down the bag, licked sugar off his thumb, and offered you his arm.
The hallways of the estate were empty. Your heels clicked unevenly and he matched your pace without comment, humming something tuneless as you leaned into him.
He opened the bedroom door and you stepped through, turned, grabbed the front of his shirt with both fists, and hauled him inside.
His eyebrows lifted. The smile stayed, but something behind it sharpened. "Oh my~"
"Shut the door."
"It's already shut. Didn't you notice?" He looked down at your hands on his shirt, then at your face. "You're flushed."
"I'm tipsy."
"You're also pretty."
That stalled you for a second. He used it and stepped forward, closing the gap until your back met the edge of the dresser.
"What do you want?" he asked, and for once the playfulness thinned out, leaving just the question and his eyes on you.
"You. Without the audience."
"Done." He kissed the corner of your mouth first, almost delicate, then caught your lips fully, and the taste of marshmallow dissolved into something much better.
TYL!Gamma
You glared at your empty glass for past ten minutes but Gamma had only noticed four minutes ago from across the room. You knew because he lit a fresh cigarette, which was what he did when he was deciding whether to intervene.
Intervention arrived in the form of a hand on your shoulder and a flat voice above your head.
"Okay, time to go."
"I'm fine." you insisted, swatting his hand off.
"You've been staring at that glass like it insulted you. You're done." He took it from your hand and set it on the bar without looking. "Up."
"You're so bossy."
"You married bossy. Let's move."
You stood, and the floor tilted. His arm came around your waist instantly, pulling you against his side. He didn't make a production of it, he just adjusted his grip and started walking.
The cigarette stayed between his lips as he navigated you through the thinning crowd. Stairs. Hallway. Door. He fished the key out with one hand, the other still anchored on you, and shouldered it open.
"Bed. Water on the nightstand. I'll be back after I finish--"
You grabbed his sleeve and he stopped. The cigarette bobbed.
"Come inside." you asked.
"I need to check the perimeter for--"
"Gamma." You pulled harder, stepping backward into the room. "The perimeter can wait."
He looked at you. Looked at the steel grip you had on him, took the cigarette from his mouth, crushed it in the hallway ashtray without breaking eye contact, and stepped inside.
The door closed and locked as he stood there, back straight, watching you closely.
"You planned this." he realized.
"I had four drinks and an impulse. That's not a plan."
The ghost of a smile appeared and vanished as he crossed the room and caught your jaw in one hand, tilting your face up.
"Impulse, huh." His voice was low and close. "Lucky me."
Reborn (Adult Form)
You switched from wine to whiskey an hour ago and that had been a tactical error on your part. The jazz club was winding down, smoke curling under low amber lights, and you were propped against the bar with your lower lip pushed out.
"That face isn't going to work on me."
You pushed it out further.
Reborn stood beside you in a black suit, espresso in hand even though it was midnight and regarded you with the calm appraisal of a man who had never once been outmaneuvered by anyone, least of all his own wife.
"I want to leave." you requested.
"Then leave."
"With you, Reborn."
"Ah." He took a sip. "You could have led with that."
"I could have--But I'm four whiskeys in which have compromised my communication skills"
He set the cup down and adjusted his fedora as his eyes traveled from your flushed face to the way your dress curved over your hips.
"Compromised," he repeated. "That's one word for it."
"Are you going to help me or just stand there being handsome and unhelpful?"
"I can do both." But he offered his arm, and when you took it, he pulled you close, hand resting on the full curve of your waist. He walked you out without a word to anyone.
The hotel corridor was quiet. He unlocked the door, held it open, and you grabbed the lapel of his suit jacket and yanked him through.
One eyebrow rose. The fedora tilted.
"Bold."
"You like bold."
"I like competent. Bold is a bonus." He pushed you against the now-closed door and leaned down with his mouth hovering just above yours, close enough that you could smell espresso and gunpowder.
"Hm, you're still pouting," he murmured.
"Fix that then."
The corner of his mouth curved. "Yes, ma'am."
Fon (Adult Form)
The tea house had been converted for the reception with paper lanterns strung between wooden beams and low tables crowded with guests.
You miscounted your cups of sake, which easy to do when they were so small and kept getting refilled, and now you sat with both hands around an empty cup, cheeks burning, quietly refusing to admit you overdid it.
Fon knelt beside you with a soft smile.
"You're rather flushed."
"It's the lanterns. They're very... warm-colored."
"The lanterns." He smiled fondly, not wanting to tease you intentionally. "Of course."
You turned the cup over in your hands. "I think... I'd like to go to bed, if that's okay."
"Of course, let us go then." He rose and offered both hands to help you stand.
You took them and he drew you upward, absorbing your unsteadiness like a current as you wobbled.
"Lean on me if you'd like."
"I... don't want to be an inconvenience." you hesitated.
"You are my wife." He said it as though that answered every possible objection. His arm came around your back and you pressed into him, your head finding the curve of his shoulder.
He guided you through the corridor with unhurried steps. The night air came through the open screens, cool against your skin as his thumb traced a slow line along your shoulder as you walked, rhythmic as breathing.
The bedroom door slid open under his hand and stepped aside to let you through. You took his hand and softly pulled him in with you.
He followed your lead without any resistance and slid the door shut behind him with his free hand while his other hand held yours tighter.
"You've been patient all evening," you said.
"I'm always patient."
"I know. But I'm not." You squeezed your hand lightly in his hold. "Please stay with me."
He studied your face for a long, quiet moment. Then he raised one hand and brushed the hair from your temple, fingertips trailing down to your jaw, tilting your chin up.
"I believe you may have missed it when I implied..." he trailed for a moment. "That I was coming with you, not simply dropping you off."
Colonnello (Adult Form)
The military fundraiser had free beer. That was their mistake. Your mistake was trying to keep pace with a man who spent years drinking with soldiers, which meant by your sixth bottle you were gone and he was merely cheerful.
"Kora! You look like you're about to slide off that chair."
"I am fine."
"Says the one who put the wrong name on the raffle ticket twenty minutes ago."
"...That was a stylistic choice, in case anyone else had the same name."
Colonnello laughed as he leaned back in his chair. His dress shirt was rolled to the elbows, with his blond hair pushed off his face, looking like the kind of man recruitment posters wished they could manufacture.
You set your bottle down with both hands and looked at him dead on. "Take me home Nello."
"We're staying upstairs. Hotel, remember?"
"Then take me upstairs." you corrected.
"Can you walk?"
"Colonnello."
"It's a real question, kora! Last time you said you could walk after drinking and you zigzagged into a coat rack and almost took out a waiter."
"That coat rack was in a stupid location."
He grinned, stood, and crouched with his back to you. "Hop on."
"You're not serious."
"Yep.--Hop on."
You climbed onto his back because you knew there was no point arguing at this point.
His hands hooked under your thighs and stood with ease as you locked your arms around his neck, and he carried you through the lobby at a stride that suggested he could do this up a mountain in full gear.
Which he had done to prove a point, hence your lack of arguing this time around.
"You good up there?"
"You smell like beer."
"So do you, kora. We match!"
He took the stairs even though the elevator was right there definitely to show off to you and shouldered open the hotel room door once the two of you reached it.
He bent to let you slide off onto the bed but you didn't release your arms.
"Kora, you gotta let go so I can--"
"Nope." You pulled, hard, and he toppled back onto the mattress with you. He let out a surprised bark of laughter, catching himself and rolling over to be above you and your legs hooked around his waist.
"Oh," he said, grin shifting into something more focused. "That's how it is."
"That's how it is." you repeated.
"Good. I was hoping you'd say that, kora."
He kissed you as though this was another point he intended to prove, and honestly, you were happy to let him.
Skull (Adult Form)
"Nobody at this table has said a single nice thing to me all night. Not one!" This complaint had been broadcasted approximately nine times in two hours.
The other guests, a scattered collection of underground figures who stopped registering his existence around complaint three, carried on without blinking.
You rubbed your temples. Six cocktails. You had six cocktails because listening to your husband campaign for acknowledgment required chemical reinforcement.
"Skull."
"I pulled off a triple backflip on a motorcycle last week. Triple! Do you know how many people can do that!? Me, I can! And did anyone here even--"
"Skull."
He turned, eyeliner smudged from an earlier dramatic episode you mercifully missed during a bathroom break, and his face toggled from grievance to full undivided attention in half a second.
"What's wrong? Are you okay? You look flushed. Are you sick? Do you need air? Should I get--"
"I want to go to our room. Now, before I dissolve into this chair."
Everything about him changed in that moment. His shoulders set back with his chin lifted. It was the posture he pulled out whenever he was handed a mission he could actually complete without getting drop-kicked across the venue by a former colleague.
"Done! I've got this, come on." He rounded the table and offered his hand with a flourish that was absurd yet completely sincere. You grabbed it, pulled yourself up, and leaned against him.
He stumbled a half-step but caught you properly on the second try.
"I've got you. Okay? Right here. Not going anywhere."
He steered you through the crowd with his arm locked around your waist, shooting looks at anyone who glanced your direction, expressions he clearly believed were threatening. They were not.
After a side quest of going to the wrong floor, and going down the wrong hallway, he finally got the two of you to your hotel room. He fumbled with the keycard twice before the green light clicked, and by then you were already fisting the collar of his jacket.
"Wait at least let me get the--"
"Inside. Now." You hauled him through the doorway and he yelped, tripping over the threshold, catching himself against you as the door swung shut behind him.
"You--right now? You actually want--"
"We are literally married Skull."
His face went red from the piercings down. All that restless bravado condensed into something more controlled.
"Y-Yeah." His voice cracked once. He steadied it. "Yeah. We are."
Then he kissed you like he still couldn't believe his luck, and you kissed him back until he believed it.
summary: ryuji earns the two of you an afternoon in detention...
“don't give me that look, ryuji–!” you quietly hissed at the blonde. “those puppy eyes don't work. this is your fault that we ended up here…”
ryuji's loud mouth had caused the two of you to end up in detention together. he really couldn't shut up, but this time he had dragged you into this as well. you had only tried to get him to shut up, but somehow that had led to you getting detention as well.
“i'm so sorry about this, i swear–!” ryuji defensively raised his hand. “i didn't mean to get any of us into trouble–!”
despite what he was saying, there was a hint of a smile on his lips. it was hard to believe him, when he was clearly hiding a grin. if you didn't know any better, you'd say he had done this on purpose.
“i'm not talking to you anymore, ryuji…”
you huffed quietly and turned away from him, a pout on your lips. ryuji sighed softly, but that hint of a smile remained on his lips. even if you didn't talk to him, he'd still be able to spend the afternoon with you. just the two of you, in detention…
It had been a long day. Your body was sore as you drudged through the slushy, thick snow that was quickly accumulating on the sidewalks. Most days, you would delight in seeing your footprints in the snow, would delight in the weather even getting into the holiday spirit but today you were just done. You were so looking forward to just getting home, to getting all the heavy winter gear off, to getting your frosty feeling hands and face warm. And, of course, you were so looking forward to Skull. It wasn’t often that the two of you managed to find the time to be home together but your boyfriend had managed to clear two whole weeks of his schedule to be home with you. You’d been so hoping you’d be able to do the same, but of course, work had insisted on calling you in despite previously approving your time off request. You’d been so tempted to just decline the call, to pretend you hadn’t heard the phone. It had come in so early in the morning and you’d been lazily lying in bed, half asleep. Skull had been all over you, holding you tightly against him in his sleep. You’d been drinking in the feeling of his hard body at your back, at the weight of his arms circling your waist, the ticklish feeling of his breath against your skin as he nuzzled his face into your neck, urging you to ignore the call and shut off your phone. Damn your sense of obligation and your people-pleasing nature that had made you answer the call. You did genuinely love and care about your job and you couldn’t turn down your boss when they’d practically begged…still, you’d wanted to leave work the second you’d arrived and the day had dragged. It hadn’t helped that Skull had been so whiney when you’d left the bed, giving you that pouty, puppy-dog face and complaining about how the two of you had barely any time together, how all he wanted was just to be with you, to cuddle in bed and enjoy each other all day. Towards the end, he’d been almost in temper tantrum mode, complaining about the lack of affection he’d gotten since he’d gotten home and while you normally could put up with these little moods of Skull’s, even finding them slightly endearing, you’d been more than a little grumpy with him before you’d left. The truth was that you were feeling guilty and had to admit that he’d been kind of right. The feelings had eaten at you all day and you just wanted to get home to him, to make up your snippiness of the morning, to drown him in all kinds of love and affection (and you were sure to be spoiled with plenty from him too, once he’d forgiven you – he’d pretend he didn’t at first but it wouldn’t be too long before he was hanging all over you.)
Finally, you could see, through the swirling snow, the lights and façade of your shared home. Skull must have been plugged in the Christmas lights in for you, knowing how much seeing them on your house always delighted you, and you couldn’t help but smile and speed up your steps, almost slipping in your hurry to get home to him but thankfully not wiping out before hitting the stairs of your home. You bounded up them, opening the front door and entering into the warm entryway of your house. Your skin stung at the sudden change in temperature but still, you smiled as you softly shut the door.
“Skull! I’m home,” you called out, hoping he would come rushing out to see you. You’d kind of expected silence though, just in case he was still sulking. It was always a possibility with him, but still, you’d hoped he’d come rushing out.
What you were instead greeted with was not at all what you’d been expecting. It wasn’t the sight of Skull’s gorgeous face smiling at you. It wasn’t even the silence that signaled he was still sore about this morning. No, instead you heard a great big crash, a loud and metallic bang, followed by a “shit…goddamn it…fuck…don’t come in yet! Give me a second!”
While Skull’s shouted words were very empathetic, very worried, you couldn’t obey them. Not with all that crashing and banging and pained sounded swearing. You didn’t even kick off your snow-covered boots as you took off running into the house proper, pushing open the door that separated the entryway from the rest of the house.
Again, you were caught entirely by surprise and your running steps faltered by the time you were half-way into the living room. You stilled, mouth gaping open, blinking rapidly. What the hell?? You swiveled your head, taking in the sight of your living room, the dining room and kitchen behind it. There was greenery everywhere you looked – it was hanging in the doorframes, above the couch, on every cupboard…was it? Hell, it was even coating the lip of the dining room table and hung on the back of each chair. You approached a bundle of greenery, taking it in your gloved hands and examining it before another loud crash caught your attention and you took off running towards the back of the house again.
You flew into the bedroom, catching sight of Skull lying on the floor, still softly cursing as he tried to detangle himself from a ladder his legs had gotten caught in.
“Oh my god, babe, are you okay?” you cried out, rushing to drop down by his side, your hands worriedly going up to touch his shoulders.
“I’m fine. I’m the immortal Skull after all. It would take a lot more than this to hurt me…just this stupid ladder,” Skull said, glaring down at the ladder and resolutely not looking at you. You still kept touching him, trying to gently guide him to look at you as you examined for any damage. Once satisfied that he was, indeed, as he said, completely fine, you looked around the bedroom, only to find greenery half-hung, almost ready to fall tacked up here as well.
“What were you even doing with the ladder? What’s up with all the mistletoe, hun?” you asked softly, pulling off your gloves and bringing your bare hand up to cup his cheek, finally getting him to look at you. Skull pouted, gazing at you.
“This way you have to give me all kinds of kisses and love. Nobody can say no to kissing under mistletoe! Come on, I need love and you’re being so mean, denying it to me.”
You couldn’t help it, you started laughing. It was soft at first but the laughter only got harder as the half-hung mistletoe completely fell, landing on Skull’s head. Your laughter only seemed to make him pout more, his eyes narrowing as he glared at you.
“See, you’re being mean…you should be grateful you have such a romantic boyfriend!”
You made yourself stop laughing, the chuckles slowly dying away.
“Oh, Skull, I love you,” you said, little giggles still escaping here and there. You leaned in, grabbing the mistletoe off his head with one hand and holding it above his head, the other threading through those pretty purple strands as you leaned in, your lips brushing against his before you pressed into the kiss more firmly, relishing in the warmth of his mouth, the feel of his lips against yours, the little whine of happiness he made as his mouth opened, his tongue darting out to lick along your lips. You were only too happy to oblige, only parting when the kiss started to get particularly heated. You pulled back then to smile at him, planting one more soft peck on his mouth. “But babe, you don’t need to go through all this trouble. I’m always more than happy to kiss you. You just need to ask!”
implied not sfw. afab reader. this is a repost of my old work
Reborn
He always looked sinfully carnal, but tonight he was especially so. He knew you were watching him, if the amused glint he directed your way was anything to go by. That’s why he wasn’t surprised when you led him outside the gala and into a private restroom.
Before you could blink, he spun you around, hands gripped your waist as he pinned you against the wall with his hips. He nuzzled into your neck, chuckling.
“What’s gotten you all riled up, amore mio?”
When you responded by smashing your lips against his, clutching his face desperately, his lips tugged up into a smirk. You gasped when you felt him bite into your lower lip, and when you pulled away, his eyes were dark.
“I think I have an idea,” he purred. “Why don’t I take care of you?”
Skull
You were…surprised by how well Skull cleaned up, considering his default outfit consisted of his motorcycle suit. Even so, it took you awhile of gawking at him in the entrance to your shared bedroom before he became flustered.
“W-What?” He rubbed his arm. “Do I look bad? I knew I should’ve taken out my lip piercing, dammit, your parents wouldn’t like that…” he mumbled, turning to walk away.
He was interrputed by your arms wrapping around his middle, holding him in place. He called out your name, flustered, before you answered.
“You look amazing.” He shivered at the lust weighing down your words, how riled up you suddenly sounded. “So sexy, in fact, I might have to cancel plans with them….”
Tsuna
Even though he was the boss of a mafia family, he still struggled with things like putting on his tie. You smiled as you offered your help and he sheepishly agreed.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he admitted, as you looped his tie around into a knot.
You rolled your eyes, smiling. “Well,” you said, stepping back to survey your work, and discreetly, the rest of him. Tsuna was always a cutie, but he had matured into such a… fine specimen. Especially in that suit. “I think you look… capable without me. Very capable. Boss.” You winked.
His eyes darkened, his hand shooting out to grasp your wrist before spinning you towards him. You landed in his arms with a squeak, his breath warm against your face, his gaze molten.
“Boss, huh. I wonder what other names you’ll be calling me tonight.”
Xanxus
If he wasn’t so sexy in that suit, you would say he was an arrogant asshole. As it was, he was still both.
Some lackey from a small family had been chatting you up a little too friendly at the gala, and once Xanxus took notice, you can damn well be sure he told that trash to get a fucking life. But not before groping your ass in front of him, before declaring you were his woman.
And now you were in the bathroom, your legs wrapped around his frame, while he held you propped against the wall. His hand groped your breast roughy.
“Stupid. Why the hell are you entertaining loser trash?” He grunted. The sleeves of his jacket were shoved down, revealing his white button up.
You knew you shouldn’t incite him even further, but at the same… the sex was so much hotter when he was.
“Maybe I just wanted to see you when riled up.”
No one came into the bathroom that night, deterred by the sounds the two of you made.
Yamamoto
Takeshi was trying on the suit the Vongola tailor had made for him, and he asked for your opinion. You were surprised when you walked into the dressing room, and he wasn’t anywhere to be seen.
“Takeshi?” You called out, before nearly screaming when you felt a hand wrap around your eyes.
“Shh, it’s me.” You would recognize that playful voice anywhere.
“God, you scared me,” you said, swatting his hand away, before turning to face him…. Oh. Before ogling the way his slacks clung to his thighs, the way his shoulders looked so broad in that suit.
Yamamato, ever-observant, noticed your stare. You missed the wicked grin that stretched his face.
“Like what you see?” His voice was husky, and sent shivers down your spine.
You were already locking the door. “Very much so.”
I’ve been in this fandom for nearly a year and for the entirety of it I’ve been obsessed with this little green asshole. And honestly I’m flabbergasted that I haven’t been able to find ANY x reader fics of Skull on any site. Maybe this just says something about me lmao. But in case there’s any other ghost lovers out there, this one’s for us 🫡 I got some inspiration from Elemental :)
The very idea of it screamed forbidden.
Skull knew you could never love him. You were a mortal, and he was a ghost. No one has ever heard of such a thing, and if they did, they’d probably be crowding at the door with pitchforks the next day. He had little hope that you would be into to the idea of such a relationship either.
And frankly? He wasn’t quite sure why he liked you himself. He typically hated people like you. The sweet and loving type; the type of person that would go out of their way to make others happy. He's never quite understood the concept of looking out for anyone other than yourself. To him, such kindness was a weakness that would surely get you killed at some point.
Maybe it was the fact that you were a Listener, like Lucy. A good one, too. The two of you were the only people who could communicate with him, so I suppose he’s bound to form at least some kind of bond with you at one point or another. But… no, it went beyond just that. If that were the case, he would’ve just fallen for Lucy. There was something… different about you.
He thinks it’s the way you treat him like no one else does. Shockingly, you seem to decently respect the guy. Everyone else throws insults in his face (although, to be fair, he starts it), never truly trusts him, looks down on him for being a ghost, and in the case of George, hardly cares about his wellbeing… but you were always nice to him. He would’ve found it annoying, he should’ve found it annoying, but he can’t. Skull loves the way to talk to him like an equal. Most nights, his jar will be safely tucked away on top of your nightstand, so he can talk with you long into the night. The two of you could talk about anything—your life, his life, any struggles you’re going through, the awesome movie you just watched. And, you’re shocked to find that the ghost actually has quite a bit of wisdom to him, considering his usual snark. He will put in an effort to comfort you with his words when it’s needed. It’s a side to him only you know.
You had grown deeply attached to one another in the couple of years that you knew each other. Even if you liked to admit it much more than he did. Although, he didn’t really need to admit it… you knew that old ghost cared about you. Lucy did, too. She heard the way Skull’s voice grew warmer whenever he spoke to you. She noticed how he rarely ever said anything remotely cruel or snarky to you. She saw his face soften up whenever he watched you walk by, those green eyes of his staring with a sad and deep longing for you. Lucy could tell that the little ghost was pining for you, and boy, did she tease him BAD for it.
But… he never got to tell you.
He was going to. At some point, anyways. But unfortunately the explosion at Fittes got to him first.
Of course, you were the one who grieved the most after this. There had been no response from him for nearly two weeks. Every day you clutched the burnt skull close to your chest, hoping to feel anything, anything at all… it broke your heart to even look at it. The bone had turned brown and black from char, and it had a large crack running up the right eye socket all the way down the back of the head. The other socket had melted in a way that created a sad and droopy appearance.
Skull thought he would be ready to move on after this. He really did. But every time he felt his soul slipping away, he stopped himself. It wasn’t that he feared death anymore, no—if that were the case, he wouldn’t have sacrificed himself to save the rest of you in the first place. This time, he felt he had some unfinished business.
It took him so long, much longer than he would’ve liked, but eventually he gathered the energy to connect back with his injured Source and return to the mortal world. Of course, he was right by your bedside, as usual. It warmed him to see how you’ve been taking such meticulous care of his skull ever since the incident. And then, when his eyes fell on you, the heartache started up all over again. The confusing mixture of love, passion, and pain.
“Y/n?” Skull whispered, struggling to fight back a mess of emotions swirling up inside of him. He wanted so badly to reach out and wrap you in his embrace. The ghost was so caught up in his emotions that he didn’t even realize he was free until now; the jar was gone, which means he was no longer bound.
You were in a similar state of shock upon seeing him, and stood up from your bed with tears forming in your eyes.
“Skull…?”
In front of you was something you never thought you’d see: a young ghost, similar in age to you, gazing at you with the most caring eyes you’ve ever seen. His skin was a lime green that glowed slightly in the darkness of the room. He wore a white dress shirt that tucked into his dark gray pants, which were held up with matching suspenders. His hair was a slightly darker shade of green than the rest of him, and although it was messy, it looked absolutely adorable on him. You have to admit, he’s one handsome ghost.
The more you looked at him and let the situation sink in, you realized that the urge to hug him was just as strong for you, too. But unlike him, you didn’t hold back. You stepped towards him with your arms spread out, more than willing to take the leap and finally hold the ghost you grew to love.
Skull, however, took a step back.
“No, Y/n… we can’t,” he said with a deep frown, looking down at his feet. “I could hurt you. The Ghost Touch…”
A frown spread across your features, too. You knew that he was right. Ghost Touch was still a possibility and could kill you if you made contact with him.
“Can’t we at least try, though?” You ask, a more hopeful look replacing your sad expression. “You never know. Maybe things are different for us.”
“How can things be different, Y/n?” He says, sounding a little strained. “You’re the only one with any sort of common sense around this bunch, you should use it. My ectoplasm is like poison. If you touch it, you die. There’s no other way of putting it.”
“But there could be! Just look at Marissa and Ezekiel. They touched each other loads of times!”
Skull thinks about that for a little while, and then smirks. “I suppose you’re right about that. There was certainly a little something going on between those two idiots,” he chuckles to himself. Then, his tone goes back to being more serious. “But, still. Their circumstances were complicated. I think it’s better if we just play it safe. I’m sorry.”
You look visibly disappointed, and Skull does too. He ponders his words for a moment and speaks up again.
“Believe me, Y/n… I want this just as much as you do. Maybe even more.”
He then sighs deeply, and this catches your attention.
“Look… there’s a reason I returned here. Personally, I could gladly go without ever seeing some of these ‘eccentric’ people again,” he scoffs, clearly thinking about a certain egotistical leader and bespectacled boy. “Lucy… it’s safe to say I’ve formed an attachment to her, as much as she begrudges me. Although, I suppose I don’t charm her all too much, either. But you, Y/n… I hate to say it, but you genuinely mean something to me.”
Skull has to pause for a little moment again. It seems that this is all very hard for the green ghost to admit. He’s not used to being vulnerable like this, and feels like somewhat of a hypocrite for being sensitive when he so often gives others a hard time for behaving the same way.
“I love you, Y/n.”
He sniffles. The ghost has begun to cry.
“I never knew how to say it until it was too late. But I love you. So much more than you could ever know, more than I ever knew I could. I could hardly believe myself once I realized I was starting to feel this way. I wanted so badly to deny it, to push it down… usually I would just find people like you to be a pathetic twit, never anyone I would fall in love with.”
Skull chuckles in a bittersweet way. “Who knew. Looks like this crude old ghost still has a heart in him after all.”
It takes a moment for you to process all of these words. You never knew he felt this way about you. You just thought all of those little “hints” were just him messing around as he always does. There’s a slight moment of silence that fills the air as you think through what he says.
Skull cuts it off. “So, believe me, Y/n. There’s nothing I want more than to hold you, to kiss you. But I’m sorry, my love. I cannot risk losing you. I would never be able to live with that guilt.”
Another moment of silence, this time slightly more solemn.
“Isn’t that exactly why we should try it?” You ask in a soft voice, a little smile forming on your lips. “If anyone’s worth risking it all for… it’s you, Skully. I love you too.”
A sob wracks its way out of Skull’s throat the moment those words hit his ears. A green hand quickly covers his mouth as the tears stream down his face, muffling his further cries. He's not used to acting this way at all but there’s just something about you that allows him to feel vulnerable and break down his walls. Teary eyes meet with yours, and you can sense deep emotion within them.
When you step closer to him, he doesn’t fight it this time. He just stands there and cries, still covering his mouth, and never taking his eyes off yours.
Then, you reach out… and gently wipe a tear away.
More silence.
Your hand lingers there for a moment. A thumb caresses his cheek. Nothing happens.
You and Skull glance at each other with the same shocked expression, still in complete silence, before your hand moves again. You lovingly cup his face. Then pet his hair. Then grab his shoulders.
Nothing.
The silence is broken when Skull’s sobbing resumes. His hands shake intensely as he reaches up to grab your wrists. This ghost boy has been touch starved beyond belief and he hasn’t even realized it until now when he finally feels your gentle touch. Suddenly you find him scooping you up in the tightest of hugs, his hands wandering every part of your body they can touch, memorizing every curve, every feature… all while he weeps. You retaliate the affection by giving him those soft touches he has already fallen in love with and kissing his forehead and cheeks.
“Y/n, my darling…” He whispers, pulling you into another strong embrace once again. “Oh, dearest…”
He simply melts right into you once you hug him back. Years of pining, tension, and heartache melt right off of him. All he feels now is peace, love, and pure joy. The things he thought he could only dream of having.
It’s up to you to take the initiative and kiss him, since he seems far too preoccupied in just the feeling of your hugs. Soft ectoplasmic lips meet yours and the two of you fit together like it was always meant to be. Poor Skull still cannot believe the luck he has.
But rest assured, he now knows that he has you. And he will never, ever let you go.
