Rotten Girl

her, 18+, enfp 2w3

DNI: under 13 (minors dni if the post specifies). racist, homophobia, and basic DNI list stuff nsfw + sfw rules masterlist

General:

DO NOT plagiarize or feed my work into AI

no hate in any form such as homophobia and racism, if I see this on my blog I will immediately block

I can get busy, so if you make an ask it doesn’t guarantee I’ll respond though I'll try my best to get through them all

Requests:

I will NOT write non con, any sort of controversial topics, sexualization of minors or large age-gap romance with power imbalance, overt misogyny, dehumanizing kinks, glorification of abuse, fetishization of mental illness or trauma, in$est, p$dophilia, n$crophilia, or anything illegal/harmful, CNC content, extremely public NSFW, using children, animals, or mentally ill characters as props for horror or tragedy, depicting bigotry (racism, ableism, homophobia, etc.) as edgy, sa (anything revolving sa whether it's towards the reader or another character), sexualizing unequal power dynamics (minor/adult, student/teacher), sexual violence for shock value

yes i've gotten some crazy reqs...

For NSFW writes I will be sticking to writing either GN or AFAB, for male I don't prefer it and feel like I wouldn't do a very good job at writing it to be enjoyable for the reader

(*) for NSFW

─ Killer chat!

Ronin: reader who owns a cat, a little too much to drink, jealous Ronin (part one), flustered Ronin, the devil you know, domestic Ronin hcs, self care struggles, Eek a rat!, kidnapped reader , caught ya! *, wisdom teeth without the wise, a very killer christmas

Of course!! :3

Ronin has always been fascinated with fragile things. Not in the way normal people are, like how someone might admire a flower or a bird. Ronin’s interest leans more towards a strange curiosity. The kind that involves taking things apart just to see how they work.

(Which is why most living creatures should never be left alone with him.)

You learned this the hard way when you started dating him, after a whole 6 months of some unhinged situationship, at least that's what your serial killer friends call it. Something between affection and an extremely elaborate bad decision.

Organs, aortas, his talent at making corpses look like satanic art, he’s shown you all of it before. Sent you pictures with the same excitement someone might use to show off a new car. You’d respond like any reasonable partner would, mild fascination, and the growing suspicion that this relationship was probably going to ruin you in several deeply interesting ways.

Still. You like him.

More than like him, actually.

Which is why you’re currently on a video call with him past midnight while you sit cross-legged on your bed, laptop balanced on your knees trying to figure out the plot of your newest story.

“Your murderer doesn’t make sense,” Ronin says lazily from the other end of the call. You glance up at his video camera, leaning back against his chair with his head slightly tilted as he continued to read the paragraph you sent him from your draft. “He makes perfect sense!" You protest. The two of you have been going back and forth about the motive for your character for 20 minutes now, with Ronin insisting that the emotional arc was less important than the logic behind the murders.

“You’re missing the point,” you say. Ronin leans back in his chair, looking annoyingly pleased with himself. Then something jumps onto your desk. A blur of dark grey fur landing squarely in front of your laptop camera with comedic timing. Ronin stops talking. “What?" You ask and glance down. “Oh.”

Your cat sits there in a tiny judgmental loaf. Tail curled around its paws and eyes half-lidded. “That’s my cat.”

Ronin pauses and looks up at you, "you have a cat? Since when?"

"Since always?"

He leans forward slowly, and the motion is almost predatory, the same curiosity he gets when he’s examining something interesting. Your cat stares back through the screen and narrows his eyes. You watch Ronin’s expression change in real time. Your cat steps forward and sniffs the webcam, earning a dramatic gasp from Ronin.

"No way darling".

"What?"

"He's sniffing the camera he's smelling me", he pauses for a moment then snickers, "do you think he can smell my rot?"

You roll your eyes at him, "you're so painfully emo Ronin". Your cat paws at the camera, and Ronin’s expression softens in a way you’ve only seen maybe three times.

The Devil Butcher, defeated by a 7 pound creature.

“What’s its name,” he asks.

"Harold". Ronin's breathing stutters before he lets out a manic laugh at how silly the name is. It was short lived however after Harold meowed at him. He freezes and watches it sit directly in front of the camera, blocking half your face. Ronin doesn't complain though. He's staring at it, studying like he always does when he's fascinated by something.

"Hey does Harold bite?"

“Yes.”

“Good. Means it’s got spirit.” Your cat flicks its tail again and steps directly onto the keyboard making your screen shake. Ronin laughs loudly at the sight. "Menace"

“You’re one to talk.” You stay silent and look at him, watching the gears turn in his head. That familiar calculating look, which usually precedes something extremely irresponsible.

“Can I pet it,” he asks.

You stare at him. “Ronin it's almost 1 am”

“What can I say, the devil strikes late at night, yknow what's in 2 hours? Witching hour and Harold over here is one shade away from being a black cat!”

“Ronin.”

“Yeah sweetheart?”

“You’re not coming here just to pet my cat.”

He smiles. That sharp, crooked smile that means trouble. “Too late.” Your stomach sinks.

"What's that supposed to mean??” The call ends before you can protest. Of course it does. Ronin has never cared much for permission once he’s decided he wants something, or someone.

You stare at the disconnected screen for a moment, your cat still planted across your keyboard like it personally orchestrated this entire situation. Its tail flicks lazily against your wrist, utterly unconcerned with the fact that it has apparently summoned The Devil’s Butcher to your apartment.

“Traitor,” you mutter, scratching under its chin. The cat purrs.

You suppose Ronin isn’t the only thing in your life weak to affection.

Rain taps softly against your windows while you wait. The apartment feels quieter now that the call’s gone, no distant crackle of Ronin’s voice, no lazy arguing about murder methods or plot holes. Just the hum of your laptop and the occasional rustle of your cat walking circles across your bed.

You don’t really understand why this feels different. Ronin’s shown up unannounced before. Climbed through your window once because he claimed knocking “ruined the atmosphere.” You’d nearly killed him yourself for that one.

But this is calmer somehow. Not driven by bloodlust or adrenaline or the madness stitched into him. No. Your boyfriend's driving across town because he saw a cat on your webcam and decided he needed to touch it immediately.

You open the door and find Ronin standing there with rain dampening the shoulders of his hoodie, his hair slightly flattened from the weather. He looks oddly alive like this, cheeks pink from the cold, eyes bright, grin already tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“You actually came,” you say. Ronin scoffs softly, stepping inside before you can change your mind.

“Well, yeah. You can’t just reveal a creature like that and expect me not to investigate.” The apartment smells faintly like rain once he walks in, cold air curling around him as he shuts the door behind himself. Your cat appears almost instantly at the end of the hallway, staring at the intruder with vague suspicion.

Ronin goes completely still, and you watch the exact moment his attention locks in. “There it is,” he murmurs quietly.

Your cat blinks slowly at him. Ronin crouches down carefully, slow enough that even you almost laugh. You’ve seen this man covered in blood, laughing over corpses, crowbar hanging from one hand while he held someone’s heart in the other. And now he’s moving with the delicate caution of someone approaching a frightened deer.

“You are,” he says softly to the cat, “possibly the smallest thing I’ve ever seen.” Harold walks forward and sniffs his hand, and just like that, Ronin’s entire face changes.

God.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him look so openly delighted before.

His grin spreads slowly, genuine enough that it almost catches you off guard. His smile’s different than the one's edged with violence, it's softer around the corners. The cat rubs against his sleeve and he makes a sound that’s dangerously close to a gasp.

“Oh, you are friendly.”

You lean against the wall, arms crossed loosely as you watch him pet the cat with unbelievable gentleness. His hands look strange like this. You’re too used to them bloodied, gloved, wrapped around weapons or organs or your waist. But now they’re just scratching softly under your cat’s chin while it purrs loud enough to fill the room.

“That thing sounds like a lawnmower.” Harold flops over to his side while Ronin scratches carefully along the cat’s stomach. The purring somehow gets louder. Your serial killer boyfriend visibly melts.

It’s pathetic. Endearing, but pathetic.

You walk over eventually, dropping down beside him on the floor. Ronin barely notices at first, too distracted by the cat climbing halfway into his lap like it’s decided he belongs here now. “You know,” you murmur, “most people bring flowers when they visit someone.”

Ronin hums absentmindedly. “I almost brought you an aorta once.”

“You did bring me an aorta once.”

“Right.” He pauses. “Well. This feels more appropriate.”

After a while, Ronin leans back against your couch with the cat still sprawled across his lap, looking perfectly content there. You settle beside him, shoulder brushing his. Rain taps softly against the windows.

The apartment is dim except for the weak kitchen light and the glow from your laptop screen still abandoned on the bed. Quiet settles over the room slowly, comfortably, wrapping around the three of you.

Harold cat purrs louder when Ronin scratches his head. He looks absurdly pleased with himself over it. “Didn’t think it’d like me this fast,” he admits quietly.

You glance over. “Why?”

Ronin shrugs one shoulder. “Animals usually don’t trust people with devilish vibes.”

You laugh softly under your breath. “Ronin, you literally showed up soaked in rain wearing all black. You look like you kill people.”

He turns his head slowly. “Well ending people's misery is what I do best darlin”

The cat stretches lazily, paw pressing against his chest. There it is again, that strange softness in him. The one buried underneath all the blood and theatrics and sharpened smiles. The one he doesn’t show often. You think maybe that’s why moments like this feel so intimate.

“I think,” Ronin says eventually, voice quieter now, “this might be the nicest thing that’s happened to me all week.”

Your chest tightens unexpectedly and you lean your head lightly against his shoulder.

“Well,” you mumble, “He seems pretty attached to you now.”

Ronin hums. “Mm. Think I won sir Harold over.” He glances at you for a moment. “Would it be weird if I started coming over just to see the cat?”

You tilt your head up toward him. “Just the cat?”

“Nah,” he murmurs. “I guess I’m pretty attached to its owner too.”

drunk Ronin x drunk reader being silly together I totally didn't get this idea after downing a six pack of twisted teas with my friend LMAO... CW: alcohol mentioned (and organ jars) word count: 1.5kish I will be working on asks again, I can't guarantee I'll be able to do all of them but I'll try my best :).

Ronin’s house smells like citrus, metal, and something faintly rotten. You notice it every time you walk in. It clings to the walls the way incense clings to churches. Comforting, in a strange ruined way.

The door creaks behind you when you push it open, red light spills across the floorboards. Of course it does.

Ronin has always had a taste for the dramatic.

His living room looks like a mix of an emo goth boy and a serial killers den, well that's exactly what he is. Black furniture, red LED strips running along the ceiling like veins, and a few mismatched lamps casting dim pools of light.

And jars. So many jars.

Sitting neatly on the selves, preserved organs suspended in cloudy fluid. A heart in one jar, a pair of lungs in another.... something you’re pretty sure is a spleen?

It’s honestly impressive how casually Ronin decorates with human anatomy.

Your shoes crunch lightly on the floor as you step further inside.

“Welcome to hell, darling.” His voice drifts from the couch, Ronin is sprawled across it. Hoodie half unzipped, legs stretched across the cushions, a six-pack of twisted teas sit on the coffee table. There’s a bowl of chips as well, and a Gameboy.

You grin. “Nice place,” you say, kicking the door shut behind you. “Very… welcoming.”

Ronin snorts. “You’ve been here a hundred times.” “Yeah, but every time I come back there’s like two more organs,” you point at the newest jar on the shelf. “…Is that a pancreas?”

He glances over. “Oh. Yeah.”

You let out a sigh and drop beside him on the couch and grab a can from the pack. Cold metal bites your palm almost making you flinch. You crack it open, and Ronin watches you like he always does when you first arrive.

You take a sip. The iced tea coats your mouth, sweet lemon sliding down your throat without the bitter bite Ronin knows you hate.

Perfect.

He bumps his shoulder into yours. “Missed you.” He doesn't look at you when he says it.

You turn your head and smile at him playfully, “you saw me yesterday silly!”

Ronin flashes that crooked Cheshire smile of his and grabs your face with both hands, squishing your cheeks together, "still counts".

You roll your eyes at him and lightly shove him away. It's almost comedic how gentle he is with you as though you're as delicate as a lily. While an hour prior he was likely bashing someone's head open with the crowbar you gifted him on Christmas, and now he’s carefully not hurting you.

You steal a handful of chips from the bowl on the table, and finish chugging the first can of tea. Ronin whistles low, almost mocking, and you kick his shin in response.

The TV is already running some horror movie in the background, something grainy and ridiculous. Teenagers screaming, someone running through the woods, and fake blood everywhere.

Ronin reaches over and hands you another can and clicks it with his own.

You both drink. And drink. And drink.

One by one the two of you are downing the entire pack, and before you know it you've reached your third. That's where the warmth starts creeping in, the fuzzy feeling in your cheeks, the light buzz behind your eyes. Ronin leans further into the couch beside you, arm draped over the back behind your shoulders.

His knee bumps yours. You reach for another chip and miss the bowl entirely.

Ronin notices immediately. “Oh, it’s happening.”

You tilt your head confused, “what?”

“You’re getting drunk.” He messes with your hair and pulls you closer to him with his arm around your waist.

“I am not!” You shout it loudly enough that he nearly howls with laughter.

“You just tried to grab the table," he points.

“It moved,” you object.

“The table moved.”

“It moved!”

He laughs, loud and genuine, the kind of laugh that makes his shoulders shake.

You groan. “You’re worse than me.”

“Absolutely.” The TV screams again, someone gets stabbed dramatically. Ronin points at the screen, “that’s fake.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah.”

You squint at him. “How would you know.”

He grins, sharp and proud. “Professional opinion.”

You burst out laughing. Tea sloshes dangerously close to the rim of the can. “God you’re such a psycho.”

“And yet.” He gestures vaguely to you sitting in his murder themed living room. “You keep coming back... almost like you're obsessed with the devil himself”

Fair. You finish your can and your head feels lighter now. The jars on the shelves glint in the red lighting like glass eyes watching the two of you.

You lean forward suddenly. “Okay.”

Ronin looks at you. “Okay what Darlin? Use your words.”

You point at the shelf. “Which one’s your favourite.”

He follows your finger. “…Favourite organ?”

“Yes.”

He leans back and considers it like a wine tasting. “Hm.” You both stare at the shelf. “Probably the heart.”

You giggle, “Oh you're so predictable goreboy, of course you'd pick the one with the aorta”

He dramatically gasps at your statement, “It’s a classic!”

“It’s predictable.”

“You’re predictable!”

“Excuse me?” You gasp dramatically, “wowwww.”

He’s laughing again now, you let out a groan and grab the Gameboy off the table. “Alright.”

Ronin squints at you. “…What are you doing.”

“Gaming.”

“You can barely sit upright.”

You try to start the game, and your character immediately walks into a wall.

Ronin wheezes. “You’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk.” You walk into the wall again, “…shut up.”

Ronin slides closer to you, shoulder pressing into yours. He watches the screen like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever seen. “You’ve been stuck there for thirty seconds.”

“I’m strategizing.”

“You’re facing a tree!” He laughs so hard he nearly drops his can. Your character dies on screen and you turn to glare at him. “Give it here.” Ronin snatches the Gameboy.

You lean sideways and flop against him. He’s warm.... Solid. You can feel him laughing through his chest. “You’re a lightweight,” he says.

“You bought the teas!" You tilt your head up at him, and his face is flushed now too. Eyes a little softer than they usually are.

You smile at him, “you’re drunk too.”

“I’m charming!" he declares, flipping his hair almost causing his beanie to fall off.

“You’re tipsy.”

“I’m devastatingly handsome.”

“Ehhhhh...... debatable.” He pokes your side, you yelp and shove him again, “you’re mean.”

And he can't do anything but cackle.

You sit there like that for a while, the horror movie screaming in the background, the red lights bathing the room in devilish glow, the jars of organs floating quietly on their shelves.

Ronin reaches for the last can and downs it before slamming it back on the table. "Okay Mr dramatic jeez," you smack his hand and pull it away from the table. Ronin leans down and presses a quick kiss to the side of your head. Soft, and careless. You lean your head on his shoulder and let out a sign.

“You’re staying over,” he mumbles, not even asking.

You smile into his shoulder, “obviously.”

Jealous Ronin x reader

"anddd that's the last of them!" You lean back in your chair like a soldier returning from war, fingers slipping off the keyboard as the final writing tab closes with a quiet click. The room exhales with you. A whole day of reports, drafts, revisions, dead and buried.

Freedom.

Now what?

Your boyfriend’s still at work. Or… “work.” With Ronin it’s always a coin toss between actual employment and whatever infernal nonsense he claims counts as it.

Rain drums against the window beside you, steady and gray. The kind of weather that turns the outside world into a watercolor painting. Cold, dull, absolutely useless for leaving the house.

So, you send a message. <User> EMERGANCY DYING OF BOREDOM <K9> I don't see how this is of any concern for me <User> ugh boring wanna play a round of phas? <K9> Hm.. I suppose I could play a few rounds <User> YAY AWESOME Join the server vc!! You sit up in your chair and click to join the voice channel, and wait for V. A few seconds later you here a ding, and an annoyed sigh on the other end. "Alright let's start this then shall we" "YOU KNOW IT V!!!!!" You boot up the game and create the game room. "Alright code is 53405," you read out into your headset mic. Almost as if on cue, V's character joins the lobby. "Hello [user], I only have a few rounds in me and I must get back to taking care of my animals" You roll your eyes so hard it almost hurts. Walking your character to the lobby board, you start loading gear. "Hmmmm okay should we bring 2 cameras or is 1 good enough? I have 3 video cameras equipped," you ask turning your character to V's.

“I believe one will suffice,” V replies. “One of us can carry it and watch for clues.”

Your character nods dramatically, which makes you laugh. The dramatic movement of the phas characters gets you every time. "alright there's an event on Tanglewood so let's load up in there!" The two of you load into the truck and immediately grab your flashlights and the key to the house. With your thermometer and photo camera in hand, and V with his video camera and crucifix.

You unlock the front door.

Step inside.

And immediately...

SLAM.

The door behind you shuts, lights flicker violently. You freeze.

"No way there's a hunt right off the bat that can't be possible!" You run into a room and slam the door shut. “I doubt it is a hunt,” V says calmly from somewhere down the hall. “Likely just a ghost event. No need to worry, [user], we ca-” V gets cut off and you hear the choking sounds of the character from outside the room. There's no way. "V?? V HELLO ARE YOU ALIVE," you open the door and run outside and are met with V's dead body on the ground, "HOLY SHIT V HOW DID YOU DIE ALREADY????" You bolt out the house and run into the truck to open up the journal. Rummaging through each page: ghost types, evidence, page after page until your finger stops. The Demon has an ability that allows it to automatically start a hunt, regardless of current average sanity.

"Amazing so we've got a literal devil in that house." You groan as the truck closes and drives off. "You seem to always attract devils darling" You nearly launch out of your chair.

That was not V’s voice.

“Oh, of course,” V says flatly. “You had to butt in, goreboy. I did not appreciate you sneaking into the VC without the join sound.” A weak laugh crackles through the call. “Nah,” Ronin says lazily. “You two were busy screaming. Didn’t catch on.”

And he leaves the vc. You stare at V’s character.

“…Do you think he’s upset at me?” you ask quietly.

V sighs.

His character walks over to the basketball hoop in the corner of the lobby.

“I do not know,” he says bluntly, tossing the ball. It misses. “And frankly I do not care if Ronin is feeling negative emotions.”

Another sigh. “But it appears you do. I would suggest speaking to him.” He drops the ball. “I will be feeding my snake.” V leaves the lobby and the vc, leaving you to open Ronin's dms.

<User> Hey are you there? <goreboy> depends who's asking <User> I'm sorry I didn't realize you joined, there was a ghost hunt I freaked out <goreboy> ya didn't wanna ask Me to play? I'm a killer ghost hunter poor Souls trapped in those houses Shiver in fear at the devil Until i free them of their misery <User> that's a lot of poetic wax for someone who's jealous

<goreboy> HAH Funny of U to even Convince yourself of that thinking the King of hell gets jealous, your Very mistaken <User> .... I see what youre doing btw <goreboy> what can a boy not have implications A video call sound pops up and you have no choice but to answer. Ronins face fills your screen and you lean back in your chair.

"heh surprised you picked up, assumed you were still talking to mister vigilante the greatest duo ever" he grins at you. You groan and fight the urge to bang your head on your desk, though it does seem tempting... realllyyyyy tempting. "your egos really oozing goreboy, you know you're my boyfriend,” you add, rolling your chair back. “I’m always picking you over anyone else.” His grin wider. He leans closer to his webcam and studies your face "still I'd have expected you'd at least call Misaki or waited for your sweet angelic boyfriend to return from the shackles of employment" You snort. "Well ironically most of the server doesn't handle horror games very well," Then tilt your head. “…Why’re you so bugged anyway?” You narrow your eyes. “Is the devil threatened by something.... or someone?” His expression almost falters before he picks himself scoff and roll his eyes. "So what if I'm a little protective of my darling" "so you ARE jealous!" You give him a wide grin and he cant help but smile back at you. “Look at you!” you tease. “Possessive little demon.”

“Don’t push your luck,” he warns, though there’s no real heat in it. He leans forward suddenly, elbows on the desk, face filling more of your screen. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Well yeah,” you say sweetly. “The King of Hell being jealous is kind of adorable.”

His eyes narrow. “Adorable?”

You nod enthusiastically. “Adorable.”

I was wondering if we can get a fic of the ronin just being absolutely flustered by the reader and reader doesn’t even know what they are are doing

Or just flustered ronin pleaseee 🙏

OH MY WORD I LOVE THIS???? final exams are over so watch out I'm back cw: ronin being ronin, ronin route spoiler

It started with a hoodie.

Not just any hoodie... Ronin's hoodie. Black, oversized, fraying at the cuffs and still faintly smelling of blood and motor oil. You didn’t even ask before you threw it on one morning. You were cold. You didn’t think it’d matter.

You were wrong.

Ronin, upon seeing you curled up on the couch with his hoodie swallowing your frame, stared like you’d just skinned a god in his living room. He dropped the grocery bag in his hand. Apples rolled across the wooden floor like they were fleeing the scene.

“…You good?” you asked, blinking.

“Y-Yeah,” he coughed, turning away so fast you thought he pulled a muscle. “Fine. Just. Forgot something.” He didn’t come back into the room for twenty-two minutes. You timed it, but the hoodie was only the beginning.

It got worse when you leaned over him one day to grab a drink from the fridge, body brushing his shoulder like you didn’t just light his nerve endings on fire. You sipped the soda and mumbled, “Thanks for buying the cherry one, I know you hate it,” and walked away. Ronin sat there, blinking at the fridge door, completely unaware that it had been closed the whole time. He would later realize he hadn’t blinked for 47 seconds straight.

You weren’t trying to do anything. Not really. You just existed like you always had: comfortably, casually, like his space was yours now and had always been. You danced barefoot in his kitchen to songs he didn’t recognize. You left your toothbrush next to his, as if you’d always planned to. You’d scroll your phone, legs tucked under you on the couch, while he sharpened knives nearby.

And it wrecked him. He could carve a man’s spine out through the back and not flinch, but one look at your bare thighs in his hoodie and his brain turned to static.

You started noticing it after a while. The way he choked on air when you absentmindedly licked whipped cream off your finger. The way his knuckles went white when you chewed on your necklace, totally unaware you were staring directly at his mouth while doing it.

The way he nearly dropped a blade when you asked, casually, sweetly, “hey, do you think I’d look cute with blood on my cheeks, or is that more your thing?” That’s when it hit you.

You were flustering Ronin. The Butcher of Uptown. Your terrifying, eloquent, blood-drenched boyfriend, undone by whipped cream and accidental innuendo. So.... you decided to test it. You started running your fingers through his hair while he's focused on something else. Leaning on his back while he's working, chin on his shoulder, breath warm by his ear. You noticed the way he’d pause, every time.

You bent to pick something up and stretched deliberately, just once. He made a noise that sounded like a dying laptop fan and excused himself with the phrase, “I forgot I have to… sandpaper… something.”

You twirled a knife once while cooking and cooed, “I think I’m getting better at this. Might put you out of a job.” And he straight up dropped the dish towel, stared at you, and said in the most cracked voice imaginable:

“…You’re gonna kill me.”

You blinked, all fake innocence. “With the pasta?”

He looked away, hand dragging down his face. “With everything.” Eventually, you cornered him. Not with threats, not with blood. Just with a smile, and a bowl of strawberries, and that look on your face that made him feel like he was the one getting hunted. “You okay?” you asked sweetly, popping a berry between your lips. “You’ve been acting weird lately.”

Ronin stared at you like he wanted to bite something. His jaw ticked. “I’m not acting weird.”

“Mm,” you nodded. “Sure. So it’s totally normal for you to fumble a crowbar when I put on lip balm?” He inhaled sharply. You leaned closer. “Totally normal to walk into a wall?”

“You were singing.”

“I was singing 'my dead gay son'.”

“…”

You tilted your head, feigning confusion. “So… you are flustered.”

“I am not.”

You leaned in, resting your chin on your hand, grinning like sin. “Wanna kiss me again?” His ears went red.

“…Don’t start something you’re not ready to finish,” he warned.

You smiled sweetly. “Who says I’m not ready?” He stared at you. And then walked away, again.

From the hallway: “I hate you.”

“Love you too Beaufort.” And that was your new favorite game. Not teasing him to hurt him. Not pushing too far. Just… making him feel it. Making him realize that you weren’t afraid of him, not when he was ten seconds from combusting every time you so much as tied your hair up in front of him. Flustered Ronin wasn’t a myth. He was very real.

And he was yours. Crowned in blood. Brought low by soft smiles and cherry soda. And absolutely incapable of surviving one innocent wink.

Could you write Ronin and Reader who is squeamish/scares easily having a horror movie date?? I personally think he would eat it up, especially if Reader isn’t actually phased by him being a real life serial killer, but falls for every cheap movie scare lol.

HCs or FF format, up to you. Thank you!

A/N: ofc!!! also sorry guys for the slow pace unis been kicking my ass </3 I'll be uploading more once I'm done the next wave of exams BUTTTT here's a fic of this lovely ask

Eek a rat!!

You weren’t scared of Ronin.

Not when you saw the crowbar tucked into his case, or the stains of blood splattered on his skin. Not even when you opened your freezer once and saw something inside you absolutely should have screamed over, but just quietly shut the door again and made a mental note to stop storing your ice cream in there.

No. You didn’t flinch around the real stuff. But jump scares? Something with dramatic violin stings and predictable jump scares and actors making impossibly bad decisions in the dark? You turned into a human heart attack. Which is exactly why Ronin looked like he’d just been handed Christmas on a bloodstained silver platter when you suggested a horror movie night (It was Terrifier 3.)

“You sure about this?” he asked, already queuing up the the tape. You gave him a half-hearted shrug, trying to act casual despite the tight grip you already had on the throw blanket.

“Yeah, I mean... it’s fake. I can handle fake.”

Ronin snorted. “Oh really, must I recall how loud you screamed the last time we went to watch something, baby?”

“That was a very loud clown,” you muttered.

He leaned over, brushing his lips against your temple. “Mmhm. We’ll see.”

Fifteen minutes in, your legs were pulled up to your chest, blanket cocooned around you like a burrito. Ronin hadn’t even blinked. “Don’t go in there, don’t go in there, don’t- idiot!” you hissed at the screen.

Ronin looked delighted. “You know it’s her house, right?”

“She saw the door open by itself, and she’s going down the stairs in socks. This woman has a death wish.”

“Technically I do that all the time.”

You turned to look at him with wide eyes. “Yeah, and I yell at you too.”

He raised his brows, mock-surprised. “Oh, my bad. Next time I’ll wait for permission before chasing someone into a basement.”

You elbowed him weakly, and he caught your arm, grinning as he dragged you into his lap like it was the most casual thing in the world. “Don’t worry,” he said, chin on your shoulder. “If anyone breaks in, I’ll go check the noise. Real slow. Shirtless. With no weapon.”

“Ronin.”

“What?”

You stared. “You’re so stupid"

The next jump scare hit while you were mid-sip of your drink, and you nearly launched the can across the room. Ronin actually paused the movie, laughing so hard he nearly fell backward off the couch.

“I hate you,” you muttered, face flushed.

“You love me,” he corrected, tugging you back against him like a smug little furnace.

Your heart was still hammering. “Why do people even watch these? You’re not even scared! You haven’t blinked in, like, twenty minutes!”

“Because I think it’s hilarious,” he said, nosing into your neck. “Also you get very clingy when you're scared. And I like it.”

You smacked his thigh. “You’re awful.”

He beamed. “I know.”

Eventually, the movie got dumber. The characters started splitting up. The acting got worse. You even started laughing a little, burying your face into Ronin’s hoodie every time the villain popped out in bad prosthetics or the fake blood looked like cherry syrup.

“You’re doing better,” Ronin murmured against your hair.

“Mm,” you mumbled. “Not so bad when I’ve got a real killer next to me.”

His hand stilled on your hip. “You say that like it’s comforting.”

You tilted your head, lips brushing his jaw. “It is".

He looked down at you and you ruffled his hair before turning back to the screen. But you shrieked like a banshee when a rat jumped out onscreen, and he lost it all over again. “Alright,” he said later, shutting off the TV and rubbing his eyes from laughing. “That’s enough emotional trauma for one night.”

You sagged against his chest. “I have never hated you more.”

“You say that,” he said, trailing his fingers up your arm, “but your heartbeat says otherwise.”

You groaned. “Ronin, if you’re about to try to make being scared hot-”

A/N: oh I've been so ready for this hehehee, I'll have hcs at the top and a little one shot below

I'd guess he’s not used to having someone else in his space, especially after ther and angel. At first, he was more tense, subtly hiding it from you. But you started leaving little things, hair clips, clothing, plushies, the occasional note. Now he catches himself checking the bed out of habit when you’re not in it. Probably lays on your side when you're not home

He doesn’t say “I love you” often, but he always shows it. Cutting fruit for you while you’re half-asleep, keeping your side of the bed warm if you get up, fixing the door that creaks even though you never asked

He’s the type to stand behind you while you brush your teeth, arms loosely around your waist, just watching in the mirror, resting his chin on the top of your head.

If you fall asleep on the couch, he never wakes you. He covers you with a blanket, then sits nearby, cleaning a knife, doing nothing. He likes hearing you breathe (proof of life)

When it comes to Ronin being more vulnerable, you find him sitting on the floor sometimes, just still. You sit with him without asking why. Sometimes he’ll take your hand, sometimes he just leans against your thigh and breathes. There are nights he clings tighter in his sleep, face buried in your neck. You don’t ask what happened, just hold him

You pick something dumb to watch, and he complains, “This is brainrot.” but he stays. You end up laying with your legs across his lap, and halfway through, he starts absently rubbing the back of your hand like it’s second nature

When he comes home fresh after a kill drenched in blood, you don't freak out. You lather shampoo through his hair, wash his back. Blood circles the drain like old sins, and he appreciates how you don't try to fix him and just quietly help him clean up

He doesn't feel like he has to clean himself before touching you, something he always did in the past for others

If you can’t fall asleep, he’ll talk quietly about anything. Where he traveled last, talks about his most recent kill, speaks in that poetic way. Anything to keep you at peace

Whenever he wakes up before you he doesn't wake you up, but listens to you breathe, running his fingers through your hair and listen to your heartbeat

Speaking of which, when he's going through something or feeling down, feeling your pulse or listening to you heart beating is something really grounding for him

He’s surprisingly good with a knife in the kitchen (of course). Chops vegetables like he’s defusing a bomb. He makes really simple food like eggs, rice, pan-seared meat

He always knows where your things are. Even when you don’t. You ask where something is and he immediately tells you without looking up, it's almost like he has a sixth sense but he just pays really close attention to you

Another way for him to say he loves you is threatening to kill anyone who hurts you (what's a serial killer without the killing?)

Rain tapped the windows, gray light spilled across the room in soft drapes. The sheets smelled like sleep and warmth, twisted loosely around the limbs of two people who had nowhere else to be.

You stirred first, barely. Your cheek rested against Ronin’s chest, skin to skin, heartbeat steady beneath your ear. The weight of his arm across your back was grounding, his hand curved over your spine like it had always belonged there. Outside, the storm whispered through the world. Inside, time didn’t exist.

You tilted your face just enough to look up at him. He was awake, barely. His eyes were half-lidded, lashes dark against his skin, mouth relaxed in that rare softness he only wore when the world didn’t require him to be made of knives.

“Hey,” you whispered.

He didn’t speak. Just hummed, low in his chest, and pulled you closer. His hand slid up your back to cradle the back of your head. As if he thought you might slip away if he didn’t.

“I think it’s still raining,” you murmured against his throat.

“Good,” he muttered, voice rough with sleep. “Don’t want you goin’ anywhere.”

You smiled, pressing a lazy kiss to his collarbone. “Wasn’t planning to.”

He shifted, just enough to roll onto his side and take you with him. Now you were facing each other, tangled up in limbs and breath. His thigh slid between yours, anchoring you. His eyes, though sleepy, were clear and soft as rain. He studied your face like he always did when you were this close. Like you were something he still couldn’t quite believe he was allowed to have.

“What?” you asked, barely above a whisper.

“Just…” His hand came up to brush your hair behind your ear. “You look peaceful when it rains.”

“So do you.”

A corner of his mouth twitched. Not quite a smile, something smaller, deeper. “Don’t say that shit,” he muttered, but he didn’t pull away when you kissed the tip of his nose. You let the silence stretch. You didn’t need to fill it. Outside, the rain thickened. You could hear the wind shifting through the trees. A car passing in the distance. But inside, in this bed, in this room, there was only warmth and the slow rhythm of skin and trust.

Ronin’s thumb brushed across your cheek. “Y’feel safe with me?”

The question hit harder than it should have. Not because you didn’t, but because he didn’t always believe it. “I do,” you said gently. “I always do.”

He looked at you like that answer physically hurt. Then he kissed you, slow, unhurried, like he had all the time in the world to memorize the taste of your mouth. “Good,” he whispered. “’Cause I ain’t lettin’ you go.”

You curled closer, burying your face in the crook of his neck. “I know. I don’t want you to.”

He rubbed slow circles into your back. His lips brushed your temple. Your jaw. Your shoulder. “You cold?” he murmured.

“No.”

“Good. You feel warm. Like home.”

Something fluttered in your chest. You didn’t say anything. Just held him tighter. Eventually, the rain faded to a misty hush. The room grew even quieter, but neither of you got up. You drifted together. Skin to skin. Breath to breath. And when you fell asleep again, safe in his arms, you didn’t even hear the storm anymore.

Because Ronin was the peace you needed

A/N: ofc and thank you! I'm finally done my midterms so I'm locking in to do my reqs

Self care struggles

It started small. A message here or there he hadn’t gotten a reply to. A joke in the server that you usually would’ve shot back a sarcastic response to, but you didn’t. Going to bed early, refusing to turn your camera on. Then the voice call a few nights ago. Your voice had been thin. Strained. Like your throat was tight, your breath shallow.

And Ronin, well. He knew what the fuck that sounded like. He’d seen Angel go through the exact same thing. He didn't push at first, kept reminding you to eat, take care of yourself, drink water. You just kept brushing it off every time. "It's fine Ro! Just stress!" "I'm bound to have a few sleepless nights after my book blowing up!" Bullshit, Ronin wasn't having any of those shit excuses. . You were stubborn as hell sometimes, always trying to act like everything was fine. It was nearing midnight when he finally messaged you direct.

<goreboy> Open your damn door. I’m outside.

You didn’t answer the server all day, everyone was worried about you. But a minute later, barefoot, sweatshirt hanging off one shoulder, eyes hollow, you cracked the door open. Ronin took one look at you and his mouth pressed into a grim line. Your hair was a tangled mess. There were shadows under your eyes dark enough to bruise. You looked, small, weak.

His voice came low and rough. “Darlin’... when’s the last time you fuckin’ ate?” You blinked, as if the question didn’t make sense. Opened your mouth. Closed it again. “That’s what I thought,” he said gently, pushing past the door and kicking it shut with his shoe.

You sagged against the wall, like you barely had the strength to argue. “I’m fine,” you whispered weakly. “Just... forgot... wasn’t hungry...”

“Bullshit.” He didn't sound angry, but his voice was laced with worry. He crouched in front of you, hands braced on his knees. “Y/N, I can see you ain’t fine. I know you haven't been taking good care of yourself even when you say you will, I can read ya like an open book." You stood there silently, eyes focused on the floor beneath you trying not to cry. “I didn’t mean to...” you choked. “I just... I can’t, I couldn’t keep track.. I'm so exhausted and I-I meant to get up and then it was night and then-” Ronin’s arms came around you before you could finish. “Stop. Stop that,” he murmured rough against your hair. “No fuckin’ shame here, you hear me? You don’t owe the devil an explanation.” He pulled back enough to look in your eyes. “But you are gonna let me help you tonight. You trust me?” A shaky nod. A breath hitched. He ruffled your hair with a smile, and picks you up in his arms.

And just like that, Ronin shifted into full-care mode. He carried you gently into the bathroom. Turned the water on warm and placed you down. “Can you stand on your own?” he asked softly. You nodded again, cheeks burning, part from embarrassment and part from just thinking about how much you love your boyfriend for helping you like this. Ronin leaned down, brushing a kiss to your temple. “Good. I’ll be right outside. You yell if you need me.”

You half expected him to peek, tease you, but he didn’t. The moment you started the water, he stood guard silent as a wall outside the door, giving you space but not leaving.

When you emerged, still damp-haired and swallowed in one of his shirts (he must’ve pulled it from his bag), he was waiting with a bowl of soup already heated.

“C’mere. Couch,” he ordered gently. You let him pull you into his lap like a ragdoll. One arm wrapped around your waist, holding you safe and steady, while the other hand spooned soup up to your lips.

“I can-” you tried faintly.

“Nope. Not tonight,” he said simply. “You’ve done more’n enough. Now you let me take over for a bit.” And you did. Let your head tip against his shoulder. Let him place bite after bite past your lips. Let your body rest against his warmth, trembling slowly easing.

When the bowl was empty, he pressed a kiss to your temple. “'You did fuckin’ perfect.” he praised. Your eyes stung again. You hadn’t realized how much you’d missed this. How badly you’d wanted someone to just... see you. It felt pathetic forgetting to do basic things for yourself, or just not feeling motivated to get out of your bed. Ronin never let you feel bad for struggling.

Ronin’s voice came low. “You ain’t weak. You ain’t lazy. Your brain just fuckin’ turns against you sometimes, yeah? Happens to all of us.” His grip tightened a little, anchoring you. “But you listen good, sweetheart, you ain’t alone in it anymore. Not while I’m here, even the devil can be helpful." A tear slid down your cheek.

“You need food? I’ll make it. You need a shower? Fuck I'll wash ya myself. You need sleep? You’ll do it in my arms”.

His voice turned fierce. “And next time this starts creepin’ up on you? You fuckin’ call me. I don’t care if it’s 4 AM. I don’t care if you think it’s stupid. You don’t have to fight this alone anymore.”

A/N: Hiii ofc!! (I didn't know what to do for v </3) Ronin

Would be slow on purpose, he'd kiss you so slowly and so deeply that your knees go weak before you even realize he’s taken control. He kisses like he’s got nowhere else to be

has a habit of catching your bottom lip between his teeth at the end of a kiss, sometimes sharply, just enough to make you gasp. He loves that reaction. You pulling back with your lip swollen and your breath hitched? Music to his ears.

If you’re the type to act like kissing him isn’t a big deal, eyes half-lidded, arms crossed, he’ll up the ante immediately. He’ll whisper things against your mouth just to make you flustered

Hands. everywhere. They're always busy and somewhere on you, holding your jaw, waist, etc!

Would make out with you in semi-public places. Dark alleys, quiet corners at bars, back seats of cars, just risky enough to make your pulse spike. He loves how your hands fist in his shirt when someone walks by too close, and how you don’t push him away. That little thrill that you might get caught, even though no one else sees how wrecked you are under his mouth? Delicious. Angel

If you’re the one to initiate, to kiss them mid-sentence, to take control, Angel completely short-circuits. Her hands grip your waist like they’re anchoring themselves. She'll chase your lips, leaning in like they’re starving.

Gentle and loving, you can feel her affection and adoration through the way she kisses you, leaning back slightly to whisper sweet nothings to you

Would cup your cheek with her hand or wrap her arms around your neck. One hand on your cheek, thumb stroking the curve of your jaw; the other hovering at your hip, unsure whether to pull you closer or just hold you still and soak it in.

EYE CONTACT, she'd lean in looking right into your eyes . Her gaze lingers on your mouth, then meets your eyes asking permission, and something deeper

She can start gentle, but when it flips, she deepens the kiss. The desperation creeps in, and suddenly her hands are everywhere, clutching your waist, threading into your hair, cupping your face.

Misaki

would laugh against your mouth, especially if they randomly think of something funny randomly (come on it's misaki)

Surprises you, they'd contemplate suddenly kissing you mid convo and pounce like a cat

Holds your hand, if you're taller they'd place one hand on your shoulder, if you're taller they'd cup your face in their hands

Slowly for sure, very gentle and would definitely ask if they're doing a good job or if they're too rough , when you give the okay they waste no time getting right back to it

Easily embarrassed afterwards especially if they get realllyyyy into it like they got possessed

Praises you throughout! Hugs you and kisses all over your face and neck in between V

probably has no idea how to kiss (sorry v)

very very gentle and slow, takes his time and savors every second of it, would keep asking if he's doing too much

Would only make out with you in private spaces, but would kiss you in public

Holds your face, waist, hip, etc

A/N: hell yeah i can

The room stank of bleach and blood. Not the clean kind. Not the kind you smell in hospitals or behind a bartender’s counter at 3 AM. This was rust and rot and something darker.

Your wrists were raw from zip ties, skin chewed up where you’d tried to fight. Your breath came in ragged, dragging gasps as you sat curled against the wall, half-conscious. The blindfold was gone now, cut off with something jagged. He’d wanted you to see him, see what he planned to do. But he’d talked too long, and that’s what saved you.

Because Ronin found you first.

The door burst open like a shotgun blast, hinges screaming, and then everything moved too fast for your mind to catch. One moment you were preparing to die. The next, the world was blood and heat and shouting, and Ronin was there, crouched in front of you, saying something your brain couldn’t understand yet. His voice didn’t sound like it usually did on calls. Not cocky It was shaking. Quiet and sharp like broken glass.

"Hey. Hey, darling.. look at me. Come on. Open those pretty eyes."

Your eyes fluttered open, barely. Light stabbed through your skull. Your throat was too dry to speak. His hands didn’t touch you at first. They hovered, trembling fingers an inch from your bruised cheek, afraid to cause more damage. You managed a sound. Something halfway between a sob and his name.

“Ronin…”

He pulled you into him, ignoring the blood, the smell, the way your body shook. His arms locked around you like he could piece you back together with pressure alone. Your face buried against his chest, where his shirt was damp with sweat and blood, his or someone else's, you couldn't tell.

"I’ve got you now. You're okay. You're safe, y’hear me?” he whispered, over and over, his voice cracking like a fault line. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you. No one’s ever gonna touch you again.”

You weren’t sure when you passed out, but the next thing you knew, you came to in a dim room filled with soft yellow light, the scent of antiseptic cleaner replaced by cologne, warm cotton, and Ronin’s cigarettes. You were on his bed, tucked under a weighted blanket. Everything ached. But the panic was gone, you felt safe again.

He was in a chair beside you, hunched forward with his elbows on his knees. He hadn’t changed clothes, but his gloves were off. His hands were bloody at the knuckles.

“Did you kill him?” you asked, voice rasping like gravel. Ronin blinked and sat back, looking you over like he hadn’t let himself until now. His expression was something unreadable. Fire and guilt and something desperate.

“I gutted that bitch from the inside out.” He ran a hand through his burgundy hair, wild and sweat-stuck. The silence stretched, heavy.

You broke first. “He said he’d been watching me for months. Said he found me through the server. Said I ‘talked so sweet for a killer’s partner.’” Your voice cracked. “He knew everything, Ronin.

He stood, jaw clenched. “If I find out which sick bastard leaked your info, I swear, I’ll rip out their-”

“Ronin.” He stopped mid-step. You had to reach for him. “I’m still here,” you whispered. In two steps, he was at the bed, sinking to his knees in front of you. His hand reached up, so gentle now, and brushed back your hair, eyes fixed on your battered face.

“I should’ve kept you safe,” he said, voice thick. “I let myself get soft. I forgot what kind of world we live in.”

“No,” you said. “You loved me.” His fingers tangled with yours. They were shaking.

“You don’t have to be okay,” he murmured. “Not now. Not for me. Just… stay with me. Let me take care of you for once.”

A/N: oh of course I gotchu

Roninxafab reader MINORS DNI 18+

cw: smut, sexual tension, edging, masturbation (and getting caught), overstimulation (?), degrading, biting

It's been a year since you joined that god forsaken serial killer server, met with 8 different killers… and fell in love with one of them. Ronin, the cocky server owner stole your heart, or aorta as he would call it, one month into you joining. After you two met in purgatory and shared your first kiss, your relationship was basically set in stone. It's been about 6 months since that night. Half a year of shared glances, cruel jokes, and slow-burning intimacy. Most days, he was at your side glued to the hip .

Until last week.

Deadlines crept in like rot. You hadn't left your house in days. The silence stretched long and lonely. Now, here you were hunched under the weary halo of a desk lamp, agonizing over your taxes, the most soul-crushing ritual of adulthood. Eyes glazed, pen trembling, your focus tunneled. So when your phone rang, the sound shattered the stillness like gunfire.

shit.

You fall with your chair onto your floor. You hit the ground with a thud. For a second, you just laid there in stunned disbelief, blinking at the ceiling as the ringtone blurred into background noise. Eventually, you pried yourself off the floor, dragging the chair upright. With a sigh, you opened your laptop.

Ronin was calling. Of course he was.

He’d been on your case all week, nagging sweetly, aggressively mother-henning from afar. You could already hear the teasing concern in his voice. Had you eaten? Drunk water? Was your bloodstream now 80% caffeine? Your chest warmed despite yourself.

With another sigh, you clicked Join.

...and almost jump at the sight of Ronin.

He's standing way too close to his webcam, half his face off frame.

“There you are, darling,” he purred. “Thought the grind finally claimed you. Death by productivity.” He sat back in his seat, leaning back and looking at the screen with a grin.

"Oh please like a little bit of hard work is gonna be the death of me," you roll your eyes but couldn't help but smile back at him. You missed him, a lot. He doesn't reply for a moment, his eyes flickering up and down his screen. You tilt your head at him, "whatcha looking at ?

“Mm, just admiring the aftermath,” he said. “Messy hair. Shirt buttoned wrong. Looks familiar.”

Your stomach dropped. Then your eyes caught your disheveled reflection in the corner of the screen, hair a tangled halo, shirt hanging open at the collar.

"Ah sorry! you called at a random time," you mumble in response. The last thing you needed was Ronin teasing you on how clumsy you are, again.

“Oh yeah?” he said slowly. “Because I swear I’ve seen you like that before. Bedroom lighting, glazed eyes, shirt half-off... Déjà vu, maybe?” You froze. Your face erupted in flame.

“WHAT—HEY—NO—ABSOLUTELY NOT!” You scrambled to fix yourself, hands flailing. He just watched, laughing, head thrown back, eyes gleaming.

“Relax, sugar. Just a memory. A good one.” He wiped fake tears from his eyes as his laughter died down. “Now tell me... what the hell had you looking like you just walked through a tornado? You takin’ care of yourself?” He looks at your expression as he awaits an answer from you. You scratch the back of your neck, looking down at your desk.

"I just fell off my chair right when you called me, I didn't check how I looked," you respond, not wanting to see the smug face he was probably making. For a good reason too because the second those words left your mouth

A beat of silence.

Then chaos.

Ronin's laugh tore through your headset like a banshee scream. You yelped, ripping them off your head and slamming your forehead onto the desk in defeat. Smooth. After a moment, you slowly slipped the headset back on, just in time to catch his continued wheezing.

“AAAHHAHAHAH—”

You flipped him off. He grinned wider, voice dipping low.

“Aww, is my sweetheart embarrassed? Of me? Your favorite devil on your shoulder?” he asked, tone all honey and razors. You lifted your head just enough to glare at the screen, arms folded defensively. He was still leaning close, eyes heavy on yours.

"I'd be lying if I said it didn't turn me on."

"For fucks sake Beaufort you can't just throw that out there," you groan.

“Can’t help yourself, can you?” Ronin teased. “You fold so fast. I bet if I offered to come over, you’d be on your knees before I hit the doorstep.” You scoffed, cheeks blazing.

“I would never. I have dignity thank you very much.”

He raised a brow. Relaxed. Leaned further back in his chair. And that’s when you noticed: no jacket. Just a dark, worn band shirt clinging to his frame. His arms flexed slightly behind his head. His stupid perfect smirk, those sharp teeth, that wild tangle of burgundy hair, he looked like a sin carved from moonlight. You were still staring when he opened his mouth again.

“Oh, really?” he said. “Because if I remember right, a few hours after that first kiss you said... ‘Ronin please, I’m begging you, just put it—’”

“OKAY OKAY OKAY,” you shrieked, hands flying to your ears. “WE GET IT. YOU WIN.” He said nothing. Just smirked, watching you stew in your own embarrassment.

“Oh, don’t pretend you don’t miss it,” he cooed. “The way you cling to me like I’m salvation. Like I could keep you there, forever. Caught in the heat.” His voice had dropped to something soft and decadent. A velvet hook in your spine. You swallowed and stared hard at the piece of paper on your desk, as if tax forms could rescue you.

God help you.

Ronin noticed your flustered expression and stuck his tongue out.

"Oh would ya look at the time!" and... ended the call. You sat there, now in complete silence still trying to process what he had said. The week of not seeing him, missing him, craving him all finally coiled up inside you. He left you and your mind so completely disrupted, causing permanent contractions in your lower abdomen. You felt like a dog in heat.

You looked back down at the paper on your desk, and you knew there was no way you could focus on this anymore. With a sigh you stood up and stumbled over to your bed, collapsing in it. Your brain fogged up with nothing but Ronin's voice, his smell, his touch, the feeling of his hands on you and before you could stop yourself, your hand was moving down on its own. A moan slipped over your lips as you completely lost control over any embarrassment. The only thing in your mind was on Ronin. You tried to edge yourself, dwell in the pleasure a little longer before reaching your high.

Just when it felt like your fingers were completely moving on their own, mere seconds away from an intense orgasm...

"Yknow if you missed me that much you could've just asked me to come." You were scared stiff, slowly lifting your head from being buried in your blankets to turn around and face... Ronin. Half his body was in your room through the window while his other half was still outside. He was staring at you, but his focus was on the hand that was between your legs. Without thinking twice you yanked your hand out and covered yourself with your blanket, absolutely horrified.

"R-Ronin?" was all that you could say, frozen in shock and still recovering from the build up moments before his intrusion. He didn't answer, didn't have to. He stepped inside your room and crawled onto your bed, yanking the blanket off you leaving you exposed to him. Ronin stopped moving once he was looming over you, both his hands propped beside your head so you were laying below him, eyes wide. You finally mustered up enough strength to look him in the eyes. His pupils were blown. His hair fell down past his face lightly tickling your forehead. He looked at you, his pupils dilating as each second went by. He leaned down, lips brushing against your ear.

"I guessed you were teased to absolute desperation but I didn't expect you to start without me," he whispered. There was no cocky attitude, no smug tone to his voice. Before you could respond he took his shirt off and immediately followed by taking off your shorts and undergarments in one grip. The view of his body after days of not seeing him made you weak, any protest you had left your mind as you covered your mouth with one of your hands, gripping the sheets under you in anticipation with your other.

Noticing, Ronin took your hand off your mouth and held it, moving it to the side of your head and pinning your wrist down. His other hand trailed down your waist, past your hips and moved over your thigh, and stopped at your inner thigh. Your body reacted, heavy breathing escaped from your lips as he lifted his head up to look at you.

"Can I?" he asked under heavy breaths. You nodded your head desperately, eyes shut not daring to look at him. All you heard was Ronin let out a groan and he slowly entered you with two of his fingers, moving rhythmically in a way that made your legs shake. "Fuck, you're so wet.." he cooed.

You heard him rearranging his position, still too embarrassed to open your eyes. Then you gasped as you felt his tongue on your clit. He groaned as he started the messily eat you out while fingering you. The metal piercing in his tongue hitting in just the right spot making you see stars. You gripped into his hair, already feeling your high building up from earlier. But before you could finally finish, he stopped. You whimpered, tears running down your cheeks, your body was completely overwhelmed by everything that just took place. You look up at him as he crawls back over you, your eyes glossy. The look on your face wiped the smile off his face, and his head fell forward onto your shoulder, sighing as if he was in pain. His hand gripped your hip harshly.

"Ronin... please.. please," you whisper. His eyebrows furrowed and he looked away closing his eyes.

"I need to fuck you right now or I'm going to go insane," his raspy voice sent a shiver down your spine. He removed his and your last pieces of clothing and started impatiently rubbing his tip on your wetness, the sweetest sounds escaping him. You let out a whimper in anticipation.

When he finally entered, you lost your breath. It felt like finding an oasis after days of no water, and you found your feelings mirrored in Ronin's face. His head fell back and a deep moan exited his mouth. He slid in and out of you painfully slow, savoring every second. Ronin lowered his head to look at you, and when your eyes met he gave you a smile, but with his next thrust his brows furrowed again.

He kneeled and lifted your hips up gently to change the angle, somehow going deeper. You became a moaning mess under him as he fastened his pace, the growing knot forming again inside you. Ronin knew by the way your moans changed that you were close, so he harshly gripped into your hips and bit down on your neck.

"Come on darling, bet you've been needing this."

The force of his grip and the pain from the bite sent your brain into overdrive, enough to send you over the edge. He felt your walls contracting and tightening around him, before you came. hard. Curses left Ronin's mouth as he tried to hold back for a little longer. He used the grip he had on your hips to flip you over onto your stomach like a toy. He took a few shaky breaths trying to calm himself down.

You, still shaking and trying to process your orgasm, gasped as you were grabbed by the throat and lifted up onto your knees upright, his other hand secured both your wrists behind your back as he entered again. It was hard for you to stay on your knees alone, your thighs shaking. He kept his grip on your wrists firm in one hand and pushed your face into the pillow with his other. Your moans muffled. Ronin picked up the face, and each thrust he went harder hitting the spot that had you blanking out.

"Too much, I can't-"

With his other hand still secure by the throat, he interrupted you. "you're gonna take it like the fucking slut you are, I know you can." His voice had a threatening undertone, even though you could hear him struggling. You didn't think it was possible but each thrust brought you closer as you could feel your next high building up. Ronin tried to chuckle as he heard your whines turning into moans again, but all that escaped his mouth was heavy breathing.

As he slowly fastened the pace, your moans vibrated against his hand on your throat. He bent down to your ear. "Sshhhh..." he shushed into your ear, grinning. But as if you were going against him, you only got louder. He flipped you back to face him again, and he lowered his head down, harshly biting your neck again, and again. One of your hands grabbed into his hair as you came.

"Ronin... fuck... haaah..."

He finished right after you, his body weight collapsing as you as his body shuddered against you. Every exhaled breath of both of you was followed by a low soft-spoken moan.

"Ronin..."

"hm.?"

"You're heavy"

He laughed, rolled off you and kissed you. "Fuck, Y/N what's wrong with you?" He asked jokingly with his eyes closed, still regaining his breath. You narrowed your eyes.

"What's wrong with me?" you spoke half into the pillow.

"You're insatiable, and you feel insane," he ran his hand through his hair, getting it out of his face. He let out a laugh and you felt a strand of hair being removed from your face. You look up at his gaze. Dark eyes that somehow danced in the light. He pulled you closer and you closed your eyes, the stress from the week leaving your body.

Ronin pulled back to take a good look at you, pointing at your neck and collarbone with a giant grin. “Wait till the server sees this.”

“Ronin don’t you fucking dare-“

“Relax darling,” he laughed while repeatedly booping your nose. “My eyes only I can’t have V seeing you in this state.” You just let out a groan and buried your face back in his neck. He just kept laughing, his hold on you tightening slightly.

“You’re an idiot yknow that Ronin?”

“Yeah but you love me.”

i’ve been wanting to write more but the problem is I have NO CLUE what to write soooooo…. please do NOT hesitate to send some prompts in. I do have certain boundaries though but they’re pretty basic. i’m good with NSFW prompts as long as they aren’t any topics of non consensual acts.

I mostly focus on Ronin from kc! but I can also do any of the other love interests, or characters from the kid at the back (tkatb), also Ren from 14dwy I’m also down to write!

Ronin x reader where ronin picks you up after you got your wisdom teeth taken out and takes care of you while you recover

The clinic was washed in a sterile white glow, machines murmuring quietly in the corners like distant spirits. Ronin leaned against the wall, arms crossed, idly tapping his phone with a booted foot. The seconds crawled by, cold and uninviting. Somewhere behind that steel door, you were having your teeth torn from your skull like sacrificial offerings. An hour of necessary brutality they said. He’d caught that flicker of fear in your eyes when they’d called your name. You tried to mask it, of course. But Ronin saw everything. You’d been together for a few months now. Ever since that kiss in Purgatory, where the moonlight scorched the night and your lips met his like two souls finally colliding. He’d never admit it out loud, but the second you kissed him, the world stopped turning. His heart nearly burst out of his ribs. From that moment on, he was yours. Headfirst. No brakes. So when you asked: "hey Ronin?" "hm?" "I have to get my stupid wisdom teeth yanked out in a few days... and I was wondering if you'd be the one to take m-?"

He said yes before the sentence even finished. Honestly, it sounded like fun. Now he sat scrolling through the beloved serial killer server, killing time, killing nerves, killing the way his chest felt weirdly hollow without you next to him. <goreboy> Ha. It'll be great, I'll be getting so much blackmail on them for years to come <Angelic> Years you say? Someone's in looooveee ~ <hitmeuppp> AWWWWW Stop this is so cute I'm crying Ronin's all grown up and soft now 🥺 <goreboy> ... I meant years to come as in I'll haunt them with it like the Devil I am <Hitmeupp> Sureeeeeeee we totally believe that <LUCA_IS_COOL> Y/N and Ronin sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G who knew our local cryptid was a big softie? <felicite> This is adorable!! <goreboy> I'm going to murder every last one of you

But before his thumbs could craft their usual snark, a voice broke the veil.

“Excuse me. Are you Y/N’s boyfriend?” She was a nurse, kind-faced and tired-eyed. Ronin straightened with a quiet nod. “Yup. That’s me.” “They’re done. In recovery now, sedatives should wear off soon. Come with me.” The lady led Ronin to a back room, with a bunch of small makeshift rooms blocked off with thin curtain. She pushed the curtain aside revealing a sleeping Y/N, peacefully resting in the bedlike chair. He couldn't help but smile slightly, even with your swollen puffy face you still looked perfect. "We didn't give too much, so they should be up soon and then you're free to go. They'll be a bit loopy from the anesthesia though, but it shouldn't last too long." The curtain fell shut. He sat beside you, and for a few moments, he just watched. In the hush between machines, he leaned down and kissed the crown of your head. As if on cue, a groan left your lips and your eyes slowly opened as you slowly regained consciousness. You looked around the room and your eyes landed on him. "Rrowren...?" Ronin laughed, a sharp exhale through his nose. “Well, good day to you, sugar. How you feelin’?”

“My body feels like jelly. Do you… do you have a spoon?” you asked, completely serious. His composure shattered. He laughed until he wept. You blinked at him, a little offended by his joy. Then, as if vengeance was a muscle memory, you reached up and began lightly bopping him on the nose.

He caught your wrist with a grin. “Awwww What happened to your tough act, huh? You love me so much you can't help but falter?”

You never let him get away with teasing you, especially this early in your relationship. You always had some way to make a comeback or mess with him back. Not right now though, you didn't respond to him and when he looks back at you, you're staring up at the popcorn ceiling above you. "Can I eat the ceiling rowen," you asked, looking mesmerized by the texture. On that note, Ronin knew it was time. He sat up and patted your head. “No ceiling for you, darlin’,” he whispered, gently brushing hair from your face. “That’s asbestos-flavored death and I need you alive.” You frowned at him and before he could even comment on your face you start crying. Now that's unexpected. “Shit—no, hey, hey.” Ronin stood quickly, helping you up, wrapping an arm around your waist. “I’ll get you something just like the ceiling, but edible. Promise.” Ronin turns you to face him and wipes the tears off your puffy cheeks, you swat his hand away. "Noo don't touch me I look like a pweuufferfish," you mumble. He has absolutely no idea what that last word was but he could assume it wasn't nice. "Well you're the prettiest fallen angel I've ever seen, so deal with it," he lifted you bridal-style into his arms. You yelped, then promptly rested your head on his shoulder, mumbling something about apple varieties. By the time they reached his car, you were lecturing him on the merits of Honeycrisp over Fuji, none of which he understood, but he loved it anyway.

Back at his place, you were flopped gracelessly on his bed. Ronin debated popcorn in honor of your ceiling obsession, but your sudden sobbing made him abandon that plan fast.

“I don’t have teeth for that,” you cried. He made a smoothie instead. Fruit slaughtered. Served in a pitch-black skull-shaped cup, because aesthetic. He sat beside you, wrapping his arm around you.

“Feelin’ any better?” he asked. You nodded, then pointed to your lips.

“I feel like Kim Kardashian.”

He stared at you, trying not to laugh. “Well, Kim’s jealous, no doubt.”

You groaned, sipping. Ronin ruffled your hair and put on a movie. You were asleep again in minutes, breathing soft against his shoulder. He looked down at you and smiled. Quietly. Softly. Dangerously in love. He hadn’t expected this. Any of it. He was dark corners and sharp edges. You were starlight and stubborn warmth. And somehow, you stayed.

Each time you quietly mumble in your sleep his heart clenched in his chest and felt unbearably heavy. He'd feel that way every time you smiled at him, kissed him, hugged him, but he'd always cover it up with his cocky attitude. Ronin thought to himself and realized you wouldn't remember much of the day from how loopy you were, so he said fuck it. He gently pulled you closer and hugged you. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and let out a sigh. He felt you ruffle around a little bit but to his knowledge you were still fast asleep. Holding you close to him, Ronin slowly fell asleep with you after a few more minutes of whispering sweet (kinda murderous) nothings in your ear. Ronin opened his eyes to the sound of you giggling. His heart warmed for a second, glad that you weren't having your loopy mood swings. He opened one eye and saw you on your phone typing, his head still on your shoulder. After a few seconds of his eyes adjusting to the light, he saw you were on the server, and everyone was active. He sat up, catching your attention. "Feeling better darling?" he asked you, his voice a little raspy from sleep. You gave him a sly smirk and gesture to his phone, still laying on the bed. "So much better," you replied, covering your mouth to stifle a laugh. Confused, Ronin picked up his phone and opened the server. His soul left his body. <You> *img* look at this softie <Angelic> HAHAHAHA he's KNOCKED OUT. Look at that little lovebug. <hitmeuppp> No way. I’m crying. Ronin, the "devil" himself, cuddling?? <LUCA_IS_COOL> YOOOOO He’s gonna kill us. WORTH IT. <K9> .... He slowly looks up from his phone and you break, laughing so hard you start wheezing. Ronin at that moment, decided not to show you mercy. He gives me a smirk and taps a button. You look down. Uh oh.... <goreboy> Since you all asked sooo nicely... I've brought the executioner back from the dead My true love in the flesh <BOT> Can I eat the ceiling Rowen <Angelic> RONIN NOT AGAIN Wait... IS THAT Y/N what is that sentence <hitmeuppp> OH GOD damn that wisdom really left their body.. <You> .... Ronin. I’m going to end you.

Your phone hit the bed. You lunged. Ronin laughed as you collapsed onto him with all your post-op strength. Which, frankly, wasn’t much. He caught you easily, wrapping you in a bear hug while you wiggled like a furious caterpillar. Once you gave up, he ran a hand through your hair.

“Be grateful I’m being gentle while you’re still bleeding, sweetheart. But when you’re better?” He smiled. “It’s war.”

Before you could fight back, you winced. The meds had worn off, and your jaw was in burning pain He sighed, grabbed a bottle, and handed you a painkiller. You mumbled a thank you, snuggled back into him, and melted. Ronin didn’t speak again. Just held you. Let his fingers trace circles on your back. Let his heartbeat sync with yours.

He watched you. Held you. Loved you.

And you loved him, too.