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#I'm...slowly enjoying this angsty pair
ryoko-san · 1 year
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(Slight Pre-Brachium/Vega)
I had this headcanon where brachium and vega were close (up to interpretation whether it be platonic or romantic) and that despite they're different, they still get along more.
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Sorry for the angst--
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triptuckers · 5 months
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the comfort of home - percy jackson
Request: yes! "Hii, I just finished watching both episodes of PJO and I wept as I beheld Sally's maternal love unfold on the screen, knowing it before hand from the books. Thus, I was pondering if you might entertain a request—a tale where a daughter of Hades (angsty) forges a close bond with Percy, and Sally, in her gracious warmth bless her soul, adopts her into their lives because, after all, they're nearly kin, entwined by the delicate threads of almost-cousinhood." Pairing:  percy jackson x hades!reader Summary:  after a typical day for a demigod, you just need a safe space to go Warnings:  mentions of fighting, injuries, blood, throwing up, swearing, angst Word count:  2k A/N: first of all anon are you a writer?????? bro those words..... pls write more !! thanks for your request, enjoy!
you're walking down the streets of new york city, feeling utterly miserable. you're soaked through because of the rain and you're hurt.
everyone knows that demigods don't exactly live a quiet life. especially kids from zeus, poseidon or hades. still, most of the times you're fighting for your life you're on a quest.
not simply on your way home.
but today was different. somehow you brought not one but all three of the furies down on you. you don't even know how, you weren't doing anything.
it was a tough fight, but you stood strong. you couldn't prevent the dozen little cuts that littered your body. you're bruised over and on top of that it started to rain, messing with your sight.
right now you're on your way to your foster home. but it's a slow journey. you're not sure you want to go there. and you're not sure how much the mist hides for them.
sometimes if you got home all bruised you told them you got in a fight. sometimes they didn't spare you a second glance.
you stop in the middle of the street. at this point you've been walking for so long you don't even notice the rain anymore.
you turn around, heading another way. there's one other place you could go. you're lost in thought, and most of the people don't pay you any attention. perks of living in new york, you guess. new yorkers just don't care.
when you get to the familiar building, you feel a sense of calm coming over you. somehow you always found yourself back here. as you walk up to the entrance, someone leaves just as you arrive, so you can slip in the door before it closes.
you walk the stairs slowly because of your injuries. every step hurts and takes tremendous effort.
when you finally get to the right floor and walk to the door, you just stand in front of it. you're fully aware you're dripping rainwater on the floor, but suddenly you can't bring yourself to knock.
why are you even here? you don't want to be a burden.
they've told you that you can always come over, no matter what. but it's late at night, it's raining outside, you're soaked.
you're standing there, debating wether or not to go in, when you hear a voice on the other side of the door.
the person is softly singing along to a song that's playing.
tears well up in your eyes as you recognise the song. you were the one to recommend it.
you raise your hand and knock on the door.
'coming!' says the voice.
moments later the door opens to reveal a woman.
her eyes briefly widen at the sight of you, scanning your body for injuries. then her eyes soften.
'oh, what happened to you, sweetheart?' says sally.
her gentle voice is what pushes you over the edge, breaking down in tears in front of her.
sally pulls you over the doorstep and closes the door. she pulls you into a hug, not caring that you're soaked.
you wrap your arms around her and cry. you let all of the anxiety rush out of you as sally rubs circles on your back and whispers soft words in your ear. you ignore your aching body and allow yourself to just be here in the moment.
after a while, sally pulls back and holds you at an arms length.
'I'm so sorry for dropping in like this, miss jackson.' you say softly.
'y/n, you know you're always welcome here. and I've told you to call me sally.' she says kindly.
you nod. 'is percy home?'
'he's out to the movies with grover. do you want me to ask him to come home?'
'no, he's out having fun. it's alright. could I just..'
'why don't you take a shower first, hm? I bet you're freezing.'
you sigh softly. that does sound good.
'yeah, alright.'
'you go take a shower, then I'll make tea and see if I can do something about that.'
she pointedly looks at the cut above your brow. you totally forgot that was there.
'I don't have any clothes.' you say softly.
'that's alright, just borrow some from percy. he won't mind.' says sally.
'thank you.'
you walk towards percy's room to get some clothes when sally calls your name, making you turn around again.
'you're not a burden, you know that right. we love having you over.' says sally.
you swallow back the new tears that threaten to fall. sometimes you forget she knows you so well.
'thanks.' you say, entering percy's room to get some clothes.
you pick a shirt, sweater and sweatpants form percy's closet before going into the bathroom.
you peel your soaked clothes from your body, hissing when you pull the fabric from your wounds.
turning on the water, you get in the shower, letting the water calm you down. you wash off all of the dried blood, dirt and sweat.
after drying off you put on percy's clothes, his scent surrounding you and comforting you.
you head back to the living room to find sally putting two steaming mugs on the table.
'we still got your favorite.' she says, sliding your mug towards you.
'thanks.'
'drink up, and tell me about today if you want. I'll see if we have some medical stuff left in the kitchen.'
you sigh, thinking back to today.
'I didn't even do anything.' you say. 'I was just walking down the road and I got this feeling I was being watched. I thought it wasn't a big deal but hey, demigod instinct, so I took a turn and went into an alley. sure enough, someone followed me.'
'someone or something?' says sally, returning with the first aid kit.
'someone at first. then the mist cleared and it was one of the furies.' you say. 'at that point I was just so done. I wasn't even on a quest so what the hell was she doing there?'
'how did you get away? you've fought a fury before, percy told me.' says sally, scooting her chair closer to you so she can clean the cut on your forehead.
'I have. it's okay if it's one. but then the other two showed up.' you sigh. 'at that point I was really annoyed. I think it was just annoyance that drove me at that point. they were clearly there because they were bored. they thought "hey smells like demigod, oh look it's the hades kid, let's mess with her."
'well, you're here now. you made it out.' says sally, finishing with the cut on your forehead.
'yeah. thanks again.' you say, sipping your tea.
'you don't have to keep thanking me.' says sally. 'you know you're always welcome here, you're practically family. I know you don't like your foster home. now, do you have any other wounds?'
you chuckle. 'only about two dozen little cuts and even more bruises. I've had worse, it's okay.' you say.
'it's never okay.' says sally. 'you and percy are way too young for this.'
you shrug. 'and yet we have to deal with it.' you say, rolling up your sleeves so sally can clean and bandage the cuts on your arms.
the next hour is spent by sally cleaning your wounds and bandaging you up as she tells you stories. you liked hearing her stories. ever since you first met her, it was one of your favorite things about her. she could tell stories in a way that felt like you were actually there, experiencing them.
just as she secures the last bandage in place, you briefly close your eyes, exhaustion getting to you.
'you can get some sleep, I'll tell percy when he gets home.' says sally.
'it's okay, I want to see him before I go to bed.' you say.
'alright, want to watch a movie of something?'
'movie sounds great.'
sally picks a movie while you sit down on the couch. it doesn't take long for you to doze off, even though you fight to stay awake. the fight with the furies was intense, so sally lets you sleep while she waits for percy to home home.
about halfway through the movie, the door to the apartment opens and percy enters.
'hey mom.' he says, taking off his shoes and jacket and dumping his bag near the door.
as he walks into the room, he notices a familiar sword leaning against the back of the couch. he frowns, he didn't know you were coming.
'is y/n here?' he says, walking over to his mom.
she nods, pointing to the couch.
percy looks over the back of the couch to find you fast asleep, wearing his clothes and your body littered in bandages and bruises.
'what happened?' says percy, walking around the couch.
'the three furies.' says sally. 'she didn't feel like going to her foster home.'
percy kneels before the couch, studying your face. he reaches out and traces one of the bruises on your cheek.
you stir awake from the movement, your eyes meeting percy's.
'hi.' you say softly.
'hey. you alright?' he says.
you nod. 'how was the movie?'
percy chuckles. 'it was good. you would have loved it. heard you got in a fight?'
'yeah. those damned furies.' you say. 'luckily your mom patched me up though.'
'you know my bed is more comfortable than the couch, right?' says percy.
you slowly sit up. 'I know. I wanted to stay awake til you got home.'
'and you did a great job at that.' says percy with a familiar twinkle in his eyes.
you hit him on the shoulder. 'you would have fallen asleep as well!'
sally watches the exchange with a smile on her face. moments like these make her especially happy you met percy.
'come on.' says percy, standing up and holding out his hand for you to take.
you take it and allow percy to gently pull you to your feet.
'thanks again sally.' you say as percy beings leading you to his bedroom to sleep in an actual bed.
'no need to thank me y/n. it's always good to have you around, even if it's like this.'
you and percy both say goodnight to her before entering percy's room.
'so, did you sugarcoat the story for my mom?' he says as you sit down on this bed.
'not really, I just didn't tell her all of the details.' you say.
percy raises an eyebrow at you. 'details like?'
'like how one of them punched me in the gut and I nearly threw up because of it.' you say.
'ew.' says percy, face scrunching up in disgust.
'you would have thrown up as well.' you say.
'but you managed to fend off all three furies on your own?' he says.
you nod, laying down. 'I think I bruised a rib, though. the rest is all small cuts and bruises. no broken bones this time. they looked like they were really fucking annoyed they could be bested by just one kid.' you say.
percy smiles, walking over to kiss your cheek, careful not to touch the wounds on your face. 'that's my girl.' he says.
'you got anything to do tomorrow?' you say, stifling a yawn.
'nope. we can spend the day here.' he says, walking over to the bed an laying down next to you.
'good.' you say. 'I just need to wash my clothes and clean my sword, and I should probably-' 'y/n.'
you look at percy.
'let's just relax tomorrow, okay? come on, you need sleep.'
you nod, moving closer to him.
as you're laying next to percy, feeling sleep get to you once more, you can't help but to feel a deep sense of gratitude.
sally didn't question why you showed up at her doorstep, but pulled you in her arms and sat with you to bandage your wounds and listen to your story.
percy listened to you as well and provided you familiar comfort you needed, telling you to relax.
you just know if something ever goes wrong, you're always welcome at the jackson household.
A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit/Max
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stayteezdreams · 1 month
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When they realize they have feelings for you + Confessions {TXT}
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Headcanons: When they realize they have feelings for you + Confession Drabbles
Requested By: @thunderous-wolf
A/N: I added on the confessions part myself, hope you enjoyed!
Pairings: Soobin x Gn!Reader; Yeonjun x Gn!Reader; Beomgyu x Gn!Reader; Taehyun x Gn!Reader; Heuning Kai x Gn!Reader
Warnings: Simp!txt. Tickling and a kiss in Yeonjuns. Brief kiss in Kai's Kai's is also a bit angsty.
Total Words: 3.4k
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Soobin:
When he was watching you sing.
You had gone out to a karaoke bar, and as you were up singing one of your favorite songs, Soobin was watching closely.
Soobin seemed to suddenly become more enthralled with you than he had ever been before.
His eyes couldn't leave your face, and your voice was all he could hear.
He wasn't paying attention to anything in the room apart from you and the heavy beating of his heart.
He missed Beomgyu spilling his drink on himself, and the way Yeonjun grinned teasingly from ear to ear as he saw Soobin's gaze on you.
You turned back with a smile as you were singing, and you made eye contact with him. He felt butterflies rampage through him as his face grew warm.
Soobin began to pay more attention to how his body reacted when he was around you.
How he would grow nervous when it was just the two of you, or when he would get excited when you arrived, how he would naturally gravitate towards you to be closer.
It became obvious he had developed a crush, but he wasn't sure how long it had really been developing.
But now that he was aware of it, he became a little less confident around you and a bit more shy.
You noticed, how could you not? Not to mention Yeonjun couldn't help but tease Soobin about it, something you overheard when you left the room one day.
Of course you had feelings for Soobin, but you were waiting for him to be more confident in his own feelings.
When he finally was, you were more than ready.
"Y/n"
You turned at the sound of Soobin's voice as he came out of his room, wet tousled hair and towel in hand.
"You're leaving?"
You nodded, "Yeah the other's were heading to bed, I didn't realize it had gotten late."
Soobin glanced at the clock and nodded. Swallowing, he looked back over at you as you slipped on your shoes. He felt annoyed at himself for taking so long in the shower, when he could have had more time with you instead.
"I'll walk you out."
You smiled softly and nodded as Soobin slid on his own shoes and followed you out of the apartment. As you walked towards the elevator, your arms brushed and you felt butterflies fill your stomach.
As the elevator doors shut Soobin suddenly looked over at you, "Are you free tomorrow?"
You blinked in surprise at the sudden question, noticing the nervous swallow Soobin expressed as his eyes darted nervously around your face.
You nodded, "Yeah, why?"
"Uhm...I was wondering if you'd want to go get lunch with me?"
You smiled and Soobin let out a soft breath at the sight. "Sure!"
"Really?"
You nodded happily and he realized you might not understand exactly what he wanted this lunch to be.
He nervously fiddled with the bottom of his shirt "Are you...okay with it being a date?"
Your heart jolted as you bit the inside of your lip lightly, trying to repress a grin as the elevator doors slid open.
You nodded softly as you began to exit the elevator, "I'd be disappointed if it wasn't"
He stared at you in light surprise as he slowly grinned, making you giggle softly.
As he followed you out of the elevator, he scratched the back of his neck, "Did Yeonjun say something to you?"
You hummed, "Yes, but, he didn't have too."
Soobin felt his ears burning as he chuckled, cringing at his own behavior. "I've been pretty obvious recently haven't I?"
You nodded as you chuckled, "Yes, but I'm glad you were, it's cute. And, it made me feel less inclined to hide my feelings."
His breath caught before he grinned at you. Reaching, over he ruffled your hair making you pull away with a giggle as you smacked lightly at his hand.
You grinned at each other for a moment before he looked shyly down at the ground.
"Then it's a date, yeah?"
You nodded, adoring the shy and cute side of Soobin, "Yeah, it's a date."
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Yeonjun:
When you were laughing at him.
He had been making a fool of himself to lighten the mood.
And as you began giggling, he felt his grin grow wider.
And as your giggles turned into bubbly laughter, he felt his heart sing and suddenly it was like he was experiencing sunlight for the first time
He had heard you laugh a thousand times, but suddenly, it sounded so new, so different, so perfect.
Suddenly he wanted to do whatever he needed to make you smile and laugh as much as he could.
And if someone else made you smile and laugh? His chest ached with jealousy.
He wanted to bottle up your laughter so he could hear it whenever he wanted, keeping it all to himself.
But he knew that was impossible.
So, he made it part of his daily routine to see or make you smile and laugh at least once.
And anytime you were sad, or sick and couldn't muster a smile or laugh he felt heartbroken.
"Why are you staring at me?"
Yeonjun had a small frown on his face as he leaned his head on the back of the couch, his gaze directed at you.
You watched him silently, waiting for an answer.
He let out a soft sigh, "I'm trying to think of what to do to make you laugh again."
His words brought out a soft smile, but it wasn't enough for Yeonjun. It still held a sadness he wanted to get rid of.
Suddenly moving closer to you, Yeonjun rested his head on the couch again, his face now only a foot away as he gently poked your cheek.
"Not good enough."
You looked at him for a moment before letting out a soft sigh, "I'm just too tired Yeonjun."
He pouted as he recalled the story you had told him. Work was hard, sleep was nonexistent, and your mind never silent.
"I know." He scooted even closer and you felt your heartbeat race a little faster.
He stared into your eyes for a moment before he suddenly began tickling your sides.
You let out a surprised yelp before you started trying to push him away. Before you realized it, giggles were escaping you as Yeonjun grinned proudly.
Smacking his shoulder before pushing him away, your chuckles died down, but your grin remained.
"Okay okay, you made me laugh now stop!"
Reaching forward, he held your face in his hands as his eyes flicked around your face, hesitating on your lips.
"There it is. I missed it." Gently he brushed your cheek with his thumb, "I want to see your smile and hear your laugh every day okay?"
Your heart was beating heavily in your chest as you forgot to breathe.
"Why do you care so much?" You asked in a soft voice.
Yeonjun smile softly as he stared silently at you for a moment. Slowly, he leaned forward, watching you closely to make sure you wouldn't pull away.
You didn't move as his nose brushed yours, and your eyes fluttered closed when his lips pressed gently against yours.
The kiss was soft, and brief, but took what breath you had left away.
When he pulled away he spoke in a soft voice, "Do you understand now?"
Slowly you nodded, before a smile stretched across your face. Yeonjun's own smile brightened at the sight as he caressed your cheek. Vowing to himself that he would always be there to make you smile.
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Beomgyu:
When he felt jealous.
You had many friends, male and female, and that had never bothered Beomgyu before.
But as he watched a guy he barely knew wrap his arm across your shoulder, he felt not only protective, but jealous.
Would you let him do that? Would you let him get that close if he tried?
And whats with the bright smile you were giving him? Did you like him? How? Why?
When he learned that you were just close friends, and that he had a partner already, Beomgyu felt relief like he had never felt before.
And that is when it really hit him just how much he had developed feelings for you.
Now he noticed everything you made him feel.
The butterflies when you smiled at him, the shallow breaths when he nervously walked beside you. The way his skin seemed to tingle wherever you touched him.
But the most obvious was the jealousy of anyone or anything taking your attention away from him.
Sometimes he felt childish about his feelings, but other times he knew it was just the desperation of wanting to be with you making itself known.
Beomgyu's chest tightened as he watched the boy smile and flirt with you. He was your friend but it was clear to anyone who had eyes that he was trying to be more.
You knew it as well, and as you tried to push his advances away by hinting that he was just your friend, you felt Beomgyu's eyes burning in the back of your head.
You had noticed Beomgyu's change recently. How he seemed to watch over you more, and how he seemed to grow jealous when your attention was somewhere else.
You hoped it meant that your feelings were now reciprocated, but you were to nervous to find out yourself. Luckily, Beomgyu would make it known himself.
The next awkward smile that graced your face was Beomgyu's breaking point. Rising, he walked over to you and the boy before tapping your shoulder.
As your eyes met his he saw a wave of relief wash over your face as you smiled at him. He gave you a soft smile as his heart pounded in his chest.
"Ready to go?"
He saw the confusion flicker in your eyes as you wondered what he meant.
Beomgyu looked over at your friend and smiled, "Sorry to interrupt, but we have a date."
You did well to hide your surprise as you realized Beomgyu was trying to save you from this awkward situation. You nodded at your friend confirming what Beomgyu said as you rose, "Yeah I'm ready!"
Saying goodbye to your friend you left with Beomgyu. Once away from other's you grinned over at him.
"Was it that obvious that I needed saving?"
Beomgyu laughed, "Only to me."
Your heart fluttered as you continued to walk, "Okay, but now what are we doing?"
He rose his brow, "What do you mean? We're going on a date."
You stumbled over your words for a second and Beomgyu repressed a giggle. "Like...an actual date?"
He nodded "Of course." His voice was soft, obviously nervous as he made his intentions known. "Do you not want to go on a date with me?"
You quickly shook your head, "No I do. I do."
He grinned as he slipped his hand into yours, shyly looking away.
You pressed your lips together tightly as you looked down at your intertwined hands. Cheekily leaning a bit loser to him you whispered, "You know, I realized recently, you're cute when you're jealous."
Beomgyu startled for a second before he began laughing, realizing he really hadn't been that subtle at all.
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Taehyun:
When he missed you.
Taehyun had grown so used to you being around that when you were gone, he felt empty.
He looked for you everywhere, waiting for you to appear, waited for a text or call.
When he finally saw your name pop up on his phone screen, his excitement and relief were almost overwhelming.
The way his face would light up with excitement when you entered a room was obvious.
When the other's pointed it out and teased him, he really started to pay attention.
He realized just how much your presence effected him, and how much your absence hurt him.
How much just a little of your attention directed at him made his heart flutter.
Sometimes he felt like a dog waiting for it's owner to get home and he would laugh at himself.
But then you would show up with a bright smile and be happy to see him and he didn't care about anything else.
He had it bad, and he didn't mind at all.
What he did mind was that you didn't seem to notice just how tightly you had his wrapped around your finger.
Taehyun stared at your profile as you scrolled through your phone. He was impatiently waiting for you to pay enough attention to him so he could suggest going out together but you seemed to engrossed with something else.
Without realizing, he let out a sigh loud enough to gain your attention. Seeing you look up at him with a raised brow, he froze.
"Whats wrong?"
Your sudden worry caused his heart to leap as he cleared his throat. "Nothing, just bored."
"Oh." You hummed, "Wanna go do something then?"
Taehyun's heart leapt again as excitement vibrated through him at the realization that you ended up being the one to suggest going out. He nodded happily and you grinned as you turned to face him.
"What do you want to do?"
"Anything." He said happily and you chuckled as you playfully glared at him.
"That's not helpful."
"I'd do anything with you." He felt a jolt of surprise as the words left his mouth involuntarily.
You looked surprised for half a second before you chuckled, "Even if I made you go grocery shopping with me?"
He paused for a second before his cheeks grew warm at the idea of doing something so domestic with you. He smiled softly as he nodded, the sincerity in his gaze causing your heart to skip a beat
You tried your best to ignore the heat rising up your neck, "But isn't that so boring?"
He hummed thoughtfully before he shook his head, "We could make it fun."
You let out a soft laugh in agreement, "Yeah, we could."
He stood up, "Lets go then!"
"Wha- no" you laughed. "I don't actually need to go grocery shopping it was just an example."
"Oh." Taehyun had a small pout and you felt your heart flutter.
"Do you...want to go grocery shopping?"
He thought for a second before nodding softly, "Now that you talked about it, I want to do it."
You bit the inside of your lips, "Alright, I'm sure I can think of things I need."
His smile slowly grew as you gave in.
"But, are you sure? We could go do something more, I don't know, exciting?"
He grinned as he started grabbing his stuff, "I want to go shopping, it'll feel like we're dating." Taehyun paused as he realized he spoke without thinking again.
His eyes locked with yours as you blinked in surprise. "That's why you want to go?"
He swallowed nervously, his eyes wide in trepidation. "Uhm..."
You watched him for a second before a grin broke out on your face. A soft giggle escaping, "If you want it to feel like we're dating then why haven't you asked me out?"
Taehyun opened his mouth in shock before he let out a soft laugh at the amused sincerity in your voice.
"Would you say yes?"
You nodded, repressing a giggle. Taehyun's smile grew as he walked over to you placing his hands on your arms as he stared at you.
"Really?
You giggled and nodded as he felt his heart hammering excitedly. "Then, will you go out with me Y/n?"
You nodded softly, "Yes I will."
Taehyun felt as though he was vibrating out of his skin as he grinned at you. Pulling you into a hug you chuckled as you wrapped your own arms around him, allowing his excitement to radiate through you.
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Huening Kai:
When you were taken by someone else.
He hadn't realized he had feelings for you until you announced you were seeing someone.
His heart sank and his chest grew tight.
Why was he so affected? So hurt?
Was it because he might not get to see you as often as before?
Or was it that it wasn't him who was taking you on dates?
Both.
The realization that he had always assumed you two would be together, whether dating or not hit him harder now that you were with someone else.
He distanced himself a bit, heartbroken by losing you before truly realizing how much he wanted you, and you got worried.
Realizing he was hurting you too, he tried to be around more, only causing his feelings to grow, and heartache to worsen as he saw you with another person.
He didn't know that at the same time, you were realizing and feeling the same things he was.
Walking into Kai's room, you knocked softly on the door causing him to look back at you. His eyes widened a bit at the sight of you before he reeled in his feelings.
"What are you doing here?"
You heart ached a little as he asked this, having always smiled happily and accepted your presence without question before.
You cleared your throat as you walked into his room and sat on the edge of the bed. You twiddled with your hands for a moment before you finally spoke.
"I broke up with him."
Kai felt his heart flip as he tried not to show any outward reaction. You noticed the sudden flex of his hands but ignored it.
"You did? Why? What did he do?" Kai rose and sat beside you.
His emotions were reeling between relief happiness, pity and anger. Did he do something to hurt you?
"I just didn't have strong enough feelings for him." You said softly as you looked over at Kai.
Knowing the truth was not just that, but that your feelings could never be as strong as they were for Kai.
Kai stared into your eyes for a second, "So he didn't hurt you?"
You shook your head as you smiled.
"Why are you smiling?"
"I just feel better now telling you." You looked down at your hands shyly, "I missed you."
Kai felt his heart twist and his chest tighten. Guilt rippled through him as he recalled distancing himself from you.
"I'm sorry." He said softly causing you to look back up at him.
You were taken aback by the strong emotion in his face as he gazed at you.
"Why?"
"Because I haven't been around."
"Did you- Was it on purpose?"
He stayed silent, but you saw the guilt cross over his face, answering your question.
"Why? Did you really hate him that much, or-" You hesitated, staring into Kai's eyes for a moment, "Or was it for another reason?"
Kai took in a shaky breath as he slowly inched his hand towards yours. He gently grabbed your fingers, playing with them softly before he spoke, his voice reserved.
"I didn't like him, but- that wasn't the only reason."
You stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.
"I hated seeing you with someone else. At first I thought it was because I felt like I was losing my best friend, but then... I realized it was because you weren't dating me. It should have been me."
Your heart pounded heavily as you realized your feelings for Kai had been reciprocated after all. You let out a soft sigh and he met your eyes again.
You gave him a soft sad smile. "If I had known I would never have dated him."
"You don't have to pity me."
"No, not out of pity Kai, but because I wanted you to be my boyfriend."
Kai's eyes widened in surprise, "What?"
You nodded softly, "I had waited so long because I wanted to be with you, but - you never seemed to feel the same."
Kai's heart hammered at the realization you felt the same. He shook his head, "I didn't realize until recently just how much my feeling's had changed." He squeezed your hand softly, "But you- you have feelings for me too?"
You nodded, "Yeah, I do."
Kai stared at you for a moment before a smile stretched across his face. Lunging forward he wrapped you in his arms as you fell back onto the bed, laughing.
He held you as he stared into your eyes, his face only an inch above yours. "I'm your boyfriend now."
You let out a short laugh as you rose your brow, "Oh really? Just like that?"
He nodded confidently "Yeah, just like that."
You giggled again as you got lost in his eyes. Slowly, he leaned closer, before pressing a soft lingering kiss to your lips, signalling the beginning of your relationship. Finally.
xx
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lvlyghost · 9 months
Note
I love your stories so much I can't 😫😍😍❤️
Could you maybe write a angst to fluff ghost x reader story where the reader gets injured badly while ghost is on her side the whole time in the hospital while she is unconscious and he's having breakdowns and anxiety and all really angsty stuff and when she wakes up she comforts him and all is fluffy and maybe a bit smutty 🤭
No More Stars Left to Count
PAIRINGS: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader
SUMMARY: Few things made Simon break down. Almost losing his girl takes a toll on him.
WORD COUNT: 1.6k
TW: Smut! MDNI! Angst, hurt, comfort. Injuries. Panic attacks. Grammar mistakes just the usual... Do not read if you're under 18.
A/N: I'm actually quite happy with this one🥹🩷 Enjoy Anon! This is my first time posting smut and in another language so sorry in advance if there are mistakes! Corrections are appreciated ✨🐝
Masterlist✨
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Simon's head rests on his left hand, his eyes bore into your fragile body. Several machines are attached to you, helping you breathe, pumping meds into your system. He doesn't deserve you by any means. He doesn't deserve your trust, your laughter, your body.
All he can think about— as his brown orbs can't find the strength to look away— is how miserably he had failed to protect his team. To protect you. It's been twelve days and you still don't show any signs of waking up; it wasn't abnormal for you to not wake up. The damage inflicted to your body had been great. Simon thought for a painful moment he had lost you for good. The woman he cared for. The woman he utterly loved.
He swallows hard.
There aren't many things that'd scare him. He's simply seen too much. But this? Was this truly his destiny? To lose everyone he loved? His family and now you?
He inhales sharply, his free hands traces your inert hand, tracing soft patterns on your pale skin littered with cuts and bruises. That very hand he adores to hold when you were together. He blinks, memories from your last night together flooding his brain as he sinks further down the chair, adjusting the hoodie over his head.
The night before leaving for the mission in Romania.
-
"No, wait look Simon! Give it to me!" You chuckle, under the covers, both of your bodies remain warm. It wasn't unusual that Simon couldn't sleep so he'd often come into your room and spend the night with you. "There." You pointed out. Your hand and his hand stretched out in front of you, slowly you touch his, spreading out your palms comparing hands. Your eyelashes flutter at the mere sight of his big calloused hand outsize yours, completely engulfing it. You splay out your fingers until they're intertwined.
His breath catches in his throat. He loved how small you were compared to him. He wanted to protect you from everything even from himself, but you had refused to leave him when he tried to push you away.
"Come here." He grabs your arm pining you down and under his gargantuan body. You squeal, laughing at the sudden change of position; Simon sets his body between your legs. Your arms rest on his sides, layers of muscle tensing under your touch. Tilting your head back, eyes meet the dark sky outside the window.
"Look at them." You mumble, Simon lays a kiss on your neck taking advantage. He loves the feeling of your steady pulse on his lips. "The stars are so bright tonight." He hums absentmindedly, hands coming to grip his blond locks.
There's a fire burning in your belly and the ache between your thighs when you feel the tent forming through his grey sweatpants.
"Need you, love." He grumbles. His hands undress your bottom half making you gasp.
"Simon..." soft pink lips kiss your body. Your chest, your stomach... until he's lost between your legs. Mouth lapping at your wetness. You squirm under his touch, it's intoxicating. It feels like you might combust. The fire running through your veins, the goosebumps on your sensitive flesh as you clench around nothing. Unable to resist it you grab him by the arms. "You know what I need." In the blink of an eye two bodies intertwined moving desperately chasing the sweetest end together. He murmurs soft encouraging words in your ear that sent shockwaves through your veins, Simon couldn't possibly be more deep inside you, hitting that sensitive spot that made you want to scream, nails digging on his back, surely leaving red marks that he would proudly show tomorrow.
The purple and orange that tinges the sky outside filters through the window, casting an ethereal display of colors around this room that hides away the few moments you get to spend with him as you finish together; feeling impossibly more in love with him.
"It's clearing already." You point out. Simon looks up from your eyes, albeit reluctant to miss the beautiful shade of your orbs. "No more stars left..."
He kisses your forehead, then bumps his nose against you before he finds your mouth.
"There'll be plenty more to count tomorrow, sweetheart. I promise."
But you're not counting them as he promised the night before. Instead he's shouting orders like an enraged man. Heart beating out of his chest, you were so close to the evac point with your squad. Five minutes ago he had squeezed your arm and kissed your temple before urging you to get in the land rover from the SAS. Only to watch it blow seconds later. His heart stopped and then the ringing in his eardrums.
It was an ambush.
And as the rest covered him he rushed to you.
The blood. Crimson blood all over the bodies. He knew what this meant.
"Sergeant!" He forces his body to move, dragging you by the straps of your combat vest to take cover behind one of the vehicles. He knows he shouldn't be moving you like that, but right now he can't think of anything else than getting you out of there... "Bloody fucking hell!" He roars.
What was that feeling, like his soul was being ripped apart...?
-
Releasing a shaky breath, Simon squeezes your hand once again careful not to hurt you. The IV in your hand too foreign. It's too much. The sight, the memories of the vehicle flying through the sky...
The pit in his stomach grows, a wave of nausea and uneasiness hitting him all of the sudden. Simon stands on wobbly legs, taking one last glance at you he steps out the ICU. Crouching down he yanks the balaclava from his face. Why was his chest so tight, and his vision filled with blackness? The incessant ring on his ears is real. Fucking real. It was supposed to be a nightmare... this thing pulling him down.
"Come back to me baby." He pleads in a hushed tone although he knows you can't hear him. Simon lifts his hands to find support on the wall in front of him. He breathes as much air as he can through his nose, tries to blink away the black dots.
"Lieutenant Riley?" A feminine voice wafts through the empty hallway reaching him. He holds out a shaky finger without even looking at her.
"Leave..." he warns.
"Sir? I...-" the nurse hesitates.
"Now!" He barks.
She scurries away but not before calling the doctors and the Captain to the med wing.
Simon stays there until his ragged breathing evens, he then goes back to your room, deep down he hopes—prays— that your eyes will open when you hear him. But you don't. He sits again on the couch where he's tried to sleep, tossing the mask away from him. His throat bobs, what's happening to him? It burns. The door creaks open revealing a concerned John who looks at him in disapproval.
"This isn't going to help anyone Simon." He scolds him.
"What do you want Price?"
"You need to sleep. And for... just for the love of God eat something son."
"Not until I know she'll be fine."
Price sighs closing the door behind him.
"She wouldn't want this." Even then, Price doesn't want to look at you. This had taken a toll on everyone. But Simon wasn't handling it well. Rubbing his eyes he scoffs. "Come on go get some rest I can stay."
"No." Both men stare at each other not wanting to back down. "I'm on leave you don't get to tell me what to do Price."
John crosses his arm.
"I'm worried Simon. I want her to be okay too. We all do."
Simon's jaw clenched, hands balling into fists. They don't really know. They don't know, can't comprehend the extent of his love for you.
"What if this was your girl? Would you leave her fucking side hm?"
A tense pause electrifies the air as the two glare at each other, oblivious to the other person whose eyes are tearing.
The beeping sound increases as your heart rate goes up. Two pair of eyes snap to the sound. Your hand tries to snatch the oxygen from your face, but Simon darts out with dread plastered all over his features. You faintly hear John calling the doctors.
"Easy, love. Easy..." he soothes you. Stopping your hands from moving. Your body is in too much pain, tears slip down your cheeks, once again Simon grits his teeth. If he could he'd take it all away. "Don't force yourself you're..." he trails off. "You're hurt."
It feels like you're body is being torn apart. The drugs are slowly leaving your system.
"What happened?" your croak out, throat dry and inflamed. He sits bringing the glass of water to your lips not before removing for a brief moment the oxygen mask. You take a small sip and thank him with a weak smile.
"Ambush." He explains. Hating that he can see the images all over again in the back of his mind. "Thought I lost you."
More tears well in your eyes, as weak as you feel you reach out your hands tracing his jawline and cheekbone. He closes his eyes, and finally breathes again, with you touching him he feels alive again. He wants nothing more than to go home with you.
"How many nights..."
"Twelve..."
The doctors rush in but before they drag him away you say:
"That's a lot of counting we've missed."
A press of his lips on your forehead, a silent promise to never let anything happen to you ever again. Even if it mean giving his own life for yours. He would do it any day. Better him than you.
"We've got the rest of our lives, love."
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chronicdisasterwrites · 10 months
Text
death is pretty but his eyes are prettier
pairing: gojo satoru x reader (gojo’s past arc)
genre + warnings: - blood, injuries, mentions of death, passing out and intestines spilling out of the body (it's a bit gory but nothing crazy), swearing, reader is shorter than satoru but other than that it's gender-neutral (i'm pretty sure), shoko smoking, protective satoru and suguru.
a bit angsty but definitely FLUFF !!
word count: 3,191 (yikes lmao)
authors note: okaaay, so i was inspired by taylor swift saying "you drew stars around my scars", and also i love slow burns and two idiots silently but obviously pining for each other; SO satoru and reader aren't dating here yet. but they very much do like each other.
also apologies in advance if i messed up any location descriptions :')
enjoy this chaos lol <3
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I’m an idiot. 
The curse was dead. The special grade curse you were assigned to kill was dead and you were almost dead. 
As the dissipating remains of the curse mixed with the wind and faded away, you heaved as the blood from the gash across your stomach soaked your dark blue uniform and colored it an even darker shade. Taking a few steps towards the nearest wall, you lean against it, legs buckling and gasping for breath. The light-headedness was growing exponentially and you had to force your eyes to stay open and your legs to stay upright. Blinking rapidly and trying to regain focus, you press one hand to the gaping wound on your abdomen. Red bleeds through your fingers and you feel like you might just pass out. Or die. Or both. 
Feeling liquid drip down your chin, you lift your other hand to the right side of your cheek to assess the source of what you assumed had to be blood. Sure enough, your previously bloodless hand was now stained with sticky crimson. Slowly moving your finger on your cheek to figure out where the blood was coming from you felt a sharp pain when your hand made contact with what seemed to be a pretty large cut. 
Shit. That’s gonna leave a scar.
Your scythe was broken so you had no weapons to worry about carrying back to Jujutsu High. Sluggishly taking your phone out of your uniform pocket you pray to every force you know to let your phone be okay. The black cracked screen stares back at you and the reflection of your worn out, disappointed, and bloodied face is all you see.
Oh, you have got to be kidding me. 
Now the question is whether to go to a hospital and get questioned by non-sorcerers about the horrendous wounds covering your entire body or, to go to Shoko and get patched up and hopefully not get asked too many questions and look like an absolute idiot. 
Shoko will ask questions and she’ll obviously be concerned. If Shoko knows, Satoru and Suguru are bound to find out and they won’t be happy with the higher-ups about this… misjudgment.
So, the hospital sounds better. But the nearest hospital is further from my current location than jujutsu high. 
Your breathing is getting shallower and your head feels so light you feel like it’ll just fall off. Closing your eyes and taking the deepest breath you could take without feeling like your stomach will tear open from the searing pain, you decide.
Fuck it. Shoko it is.
Pushing yourself off the wall with one hand still clutched to your bleeding stomach you start moving towards Jujutsu High. You control your breathing and use every last bit of cursed energy you have left to staunch the bleeding and somewhat ease your pain. With that, you urge your legs to move as fast as physically possible without breaking down.
---
You don’t know how you made it without bleeding out in the middle of the road, but the gates of Jujutsu High have never looked prettier. But, the sight of the stairs was enough to make bile rise to your throat. Swallowing it down and heaving some more, you make your way up the neverending steps of your inevitable doom.
Upon reaching the final step, your legs give out and you fall, wounded cheek first onto the stoned pavement. The pain was like nothing you’ve ever felt before; shooting upwards to your neurons and all the way down your body, right to the tips of your fingers and toes. 
It feels so nice to lie down. No no, get the hell up and go to Shoko. Or all this damn walking would’ve been for absolutely nothing.
Hours was it? Or minutes? You’re not sure but you managed to get back up. After first turning from your side to your back and then bending one leg and then using one hand to help your body up and then finally sitting up. Then at a snail’s pace, managing to stand up on your two feet you start moving towards the morgue, where Shoko spends most of her time anyways. That was your best bet. And if she wasn’t there, well then death seemed like the next best option. 
Slugging your way to the morgue, one hand still clutched to your stomach, you aggressively slap your free hand on the doorknob and turn it with your full body weight on the door. The door swings open and unable to keep your balance, you fall again, right cheek hitting the cold floor for the second time that day. 
All you remember hearing before your eyes finally shut is the sound of a chair screeching on the floor followed by the sound of rapid footsteps and a string of unintelligible words you assumed belonged to Shoko.
---
Darkness. More darkness. Muted voices. Yelling. Some more darkness. Pain.
When you finally open your eyes, everything is a blur. You blink a few times and look around until your eyes find something to focus on. The white walls, the green curtains, and the smell of antiseptic chemicals all lead you to believe you are in the infirmary. Flexing your hands one, two, three times before slowly lifting your right hand up to gently caress your right cheek, you feel the soft cloth of a bandage taped to your skin. Bringing the same hand down to lay it flat upon the blanket covering your abdomen, you apply the slightest bit of pressure down until you feel a slight prick of pain. Lifting the blanket up you tilt your head down to check the situation. You’re wearing a flowy hospital gown and your stomach looks a bit bulky. Feeling around the wound site you realize there’s a bandage there too. Laying your hand back down by your side, you stare up at the ceiling, wondering how you were even alive.
The creaking of the door opening breaks you from your stupor. 
“That was fast. Thought you’d be out for longer,” comes the smooth voice, the smell of cigarettes and that familiar sandalwood sweet perfume you know only belongs to Shoko.
Turning your head to the side you watch her sit down on the chair next to you fiddling with an unlit cigarette and crossing her legs. Her bangs almost cover her left eye and you notice how tired she looks. She sighs and looks at you with a lazy smile, fingers still twirling the cigarette with ease, she asks, “How you feeling?”
You shift and push yourself up to lean your back against the headrest of the bed. With a loud exhale you look back at her with a half-assed smile, “I’m great actually. Good job, doc.” You give her a thumbs up and hope it’ll be enough to squash any more questions she might have.
With her smile still on her face, she looks down at the cigarette and hums, “You know, Gojo was about to unleash hell on the higher-ups for giving you that mission.”
Your smile is immediately replaced with a frown and you feel unbelievably small upon hearing this. With a scowl you ask, “I mean, the mission was a success, wasn’t it?" You shrug, "And I’m fine too so win-win.”
Finally, her smile fades as she stares straight at you; and you think this is the most serious you have ever seen Shoko look, “You could’ve died. That doesn’t seem like “fine” to me. For once I actually agree with Gojo. It wasn’t right of them to assign you on that mission, especially without warning.”
“I’m feeling unbelievably underestimated right now, Shoko,” your voice is small as you fiddle with the seams of the blanket covering the lower half of your body.
Shoko sighs and shakes her head, short hair swishing as she leans forward with her arms on her legs, “I’m not doubting your abilities. No one is doubting your skills. But your wounds were really bad, you know that as well as I do.”
It’s quiet for a bit before you speak again. You look at her downturned head as you reach out your hand to hold hers. Your voice is demure.
“I know. I’m sorry for worrying you, Shoko. But I promise I’m fine. And that’s all thanks to you.” You smile at her as she lifts her head enough to lock her eyes with yours. A smile she doesn’t return but her hand holds yours back and you know she believes you now.
“Yeah well try not to pass out with your intestines all over the floor next time, thanks.”
You laugh. “I promise. I hope you’re joking about the intestines though.”
Shoko huffs a short laugh and lets go of your hand. Bringing the cigarette to her mouth as she stands up she says, “Your cursed energy is the reason that’s a joke. It’s amazing you held out for that long. But don’t get too used to that luck.”
Bringing your hand back to your lap, you watch as she makes her way out and shuts the door. 
Immediately after leaving she pokes her head in again and says one thing before leaving again without waiting for your reply, “Please talk to Gojo and Geto. Go now actually.” 
You sigh and bring down one foot then the other. The light-headedness returns once you stand up but it’s manageable, so you look around for a change of clothes when you find a new uniform folded neatly on the side table next to your bed.
Changing into the new uniform, you make your way out to look for either Satoru or Suguru or if you’re lucky (more so unlucky) both of them.
---
Jujutsu High really is beautiful this time of the season. The cherry blossoms are in full bloom and the campus looks downright ethereal. You think while walking the halls how this place would feel if it were just an ordinary high school and not a place teaching kids how to wield weapons and slay curses. The classrooms would be filled with boisterous students and teachers talking in the courtyard. Canteens with flirting couples and students playing football outside. The gymnasium would hold basketball games with students wearing the school jersey and cheering for the school team. It would be different. It wouldn’t be Jujutsu High, you think.
“Well well, look who’s up and walking already,” the loud, smug voice you know only belongs to one white-haired, blue-eyed boy.
Stopping in your tracks you turn around and stand face to face with Satoru. You give him a sheepish smile and with the sweetest voice you can muster you say, “Hey there Satoru! I was just looking for you!”
Satoru scoffs and walks closer to you. 
"Drop the crap."
Oh shit.
Once close enough to touch you he waits for a few beats staring at your face, eyes locked with yours as he occasionally looks at the bandage on your cheek. He breathes your name.
“What the hell were you thinking?” he seethes.
You groan, exasperated but expecting this reaction. 
“I’m okay, Satoru. I don’t get why this is such a big deal honestly.”
You can see his eyes widen behind his sunglasses with pure rage as he scoffs yet again. His voice gets louder and his arms flail around trying to prove his point, 
“Oh, you don’t get why this is a big deal? Well for starters, you could have died. You’re a semi-first grade, why the hell would you even accept a job to kill a special grade curse?” 
“Okay, I didn’t know it was a special grade. And I killed it, didn’t I? Have some faith in me,” your tone matches his and you glower as you cross your hands across your chest.
He starts pacing back and forth, facepalming himself to oblivion as he goes on a rant,
“Oh my- that’s not the point! It’s not about having faith. You were all messed up and half dead and you could’ve been fully dead and we were almost about to kill those stupid old geezers but then Shoko stopped us and I swear if she didn’t we would’ve actually gone through with it. I mean seriously what the hell-“
You stomp forward mid-rant and grab him by the shoulders, forcing him to stop. Your voice is soft but steady like you’re comforting a child in distress.
“Satoru calm down. I’m okay. The curse is dead. It’s fine. Now please breathe.”
He stares at you through his sunglasses. His chest is heaving and fists are clenched by his sides, not trying to move at all even though he could easily shove you away and continue pacing and ranting.
He dips his head down and exhales deeply, shoulders slanted downwards and breathing slowing down. He moves forward as his arms encircle your body and his head rests on top of yours. Your nose is squished against his chest and you can smell his scent; a mix of sweets, laundry detergent, and his signature scent; the smell of dewdrops and what you assume would probably be some expensive brand of perfume. You relax against him as you breathe him in and your arms move to hug him back. Shifting your head to rest your cheek on his chest you hear his heart beat steadily. You close your eyes and get lost in the feeling of Satoru. 
Neither of you say anything, but say everything at the same time. All his thoughts poured into that one hug, and you silently hear them all as you hug him a bit tighter.
You can feel him gulp as his Adam's apple moves against your forehead. His voice is small and honest as he says, “I would kill them all. If you didn’t wake up, I wouldn’t hesitate to kill them all.”
You know he would, so it’s not really a confession. But it feels like a confession. Satoru would turn the world upside down for the people he loves. You know that too well. 
“I know,” your voice is quiet. You feel so safe in Satoru’s arms. You think it’s so embarrassing how safe you feel whenever you’re with him. You feel like a baby; guard down and vulnerable. You’re sure Satoru feels the same way. You’ve never once seen him keep his Infinity on when he’s with you. 
He hugs you tighter and you can feel his heart rate quicken. He takes a deep breath and exhales as he lets you go and looks at you. You tilt your head up and try to find those cerulean blues hidden behind the shade of his sunglasses. Lifting your hand up to push his glasses up to his head you finally look right into the swirling blues of his eyes. They’re like the ocean. Calm, but with an unmistakable power surging within them. Like the energy you feel in the water right before a wave is formed, the blues in his eyes seem to pulse and flow with power. But they’re also still and serene, and filled with so much emotion. His eyes hold so much more than just power. 
His hand comes up to your bandaged cheek and he slowly takes off one side of the tape and then another until the bandage flaps open. You suddenly feel smaller and even more vulnerable. You haven’t even seen your face with the scar yet (you’re positive there’s a scar). His eyes zone in on the cut as he traces the raised flesh lining the center of your cheek. As his finger runs down the scar, you envision just how large the cut really is; about 3 inches vertical. It didn’t hurt anymore. Shoko really is a fantastic sorcerer, you think. Not moving your eyes from Satoru’s even once, you see the whirlpool of emotions swirl around in those crystal blues. Anger, sadness, worry, relief, adoration, hope.
His jaw clenches as he furrows his brows ever so slightly, fingers moving across your scar with featherlight pressure. Moving his gaze to your eyes, he rests his entire palm against your wounded cheek. Adjusting his hand to hold the side of your face perfectly like two pieces of the same puzzle, his thumb lays on the scar with a gentleness you didn’t know Satoru had. 
It’s so quiet, you can hear your heart pounding in your chest. The occasional breeze and the mellow chirping of birds bring you back to the world, otherwise, you’re positive you’d forget all about the outside world and be content standing in the middle of the hall in Jujutsu High wrapped in Gojo Satoru’s arms. 
You and Satoru were friends. Of course, you loved him, but that love is no different from the love you have for Shoko and Suguru. They’re your home. You’re a family. You know they love you too. 
But right now, it feels different than all the other times Satoru has held you. Held your hand, held your face, hugged you, clumsily threw his lanky arms over your shoulders, ran his fingers through your hair, wiped the blood off your face, flicked you on the forehead, patted you on the head, messed up your hair, rested his head on top of yours. This particular instance feels different. More intimate, perhaps. 
Maybe because you really could’ve died. Your life was hanging by a thread and you don’t seem to understand that. You were so prepared to die, that such a close brush with death’s scythe didn’t affect you in the slightest. This job comes with a guarantee of death. Even though that is life in general; being a jujutsu sorcerer means your days are already numbered. Anytime you embark on a mission, your chances of dying are much higher than your chances of survival. So you always went out on the field with the thought of dying. Knowing you could die and leave everything and everyone behind. But this was the first time you felt you were one step through death’s door. 
You can feel Satoru’s breath on your face, and you think he might kiss you. You keep one hand on his back as you lift the other to hold his wrist near your jaw. As he leans forward you close your eyes bracing for the kiss to reach your lips. But it doesn’t reach the place you were expecting. Instead, the lightest kiss touches your forehead, almost chaste; as he lingers there for a moment and then moves back. 
By now, your heart is racing and you think you’re dreaming. Only when his hands leave you, do you open your eyes and realize this isn’t a dream. 
He exhales as he stands straight, with both hands by his side. Bringing his sunglasses back down, perched on the bridge of his nose, he gives you a small smile, “I’ll see you later, yeah?”
You try to mask your stunned expression with a smile and nod. 
As he turns to leave he says, “Suguru’s at the gymnasium, probably.”
You release the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, “Alright.”
He walks away and you go in the other direction.
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part 2
2K notes · View notes
roosterr · 7 months
Note
Heyyy! I’m not sure if you’re taking requests rn.. BUT if you areee, can I just please get a john price with the prompt “why are you avoiding me?” (Bc I’m a slut for angst) with a large fry on the side? IF NOT I TOTALLY COOL
outside it starts to pour
note: two posts in one month? who am i? i hope this is angsty enough lol, i re-wrote it 3 times bc i wasnt happy with it, its a love hate relationship 🥲 but anyway pls enjoy anon!!!
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pairing: john price x gn!reader
wc: 1.5k
summary: in your dreams, you're more than just someone who warms john's bed
warnings: fwb, implied smut but no actual smut, angst, miscommunication (i cant help myself), hurt/no comfort, no happy ending
ao3
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"why're you avoidin' me?"
the question echoes in your ears, drowning out the war drum of your heartbeat despite the heavy silence that settles between you.
john has a hand around your arm, gentle and barely there but still anchoring you in place like a vice with just his light touch. the back of your mind screams for you to rip yourself free, get as far away from the familiar timbre of his voice and the near-stifling comfort of his smoky scent as you can before he can get you in his web again. but just like always, he's got you right where he wants you.
how many times have you been pulled behind the door he was halfway out of? and how many times have you been ushered back out again with your hair and heart a mess, just to pretend like nothing happened? always one foot in your little secret and one in his reputation, never fully with you; that's how the captain operated, and you feel like a fool for ever believing otherwise.
a squeeze to your arm brings you back to the present, suddenly all too aware of his fingers against your skin and his eyes boring into your own with an intensity that has your heart fluttering – against your mind's better judgement.
"i'm not." your response is a mutter, your gaze dropping from his to the hardwood ahead of you. it's unconvincing, even to you, but he had no right to question you like this.
"you are." he shoots back, gruffly and without a second of hesitation. from the corner of your vision you see his brow furrow, casting shadow over those eyes that always captivate you so mercilessly.
a sigh escapes his chest at your lack of response, his eyes darting from one end of the hallway to the other before giving your arm a miniscule tug, nodding his head back towards his office.
that's how it always starts. the thought makes your heart clenches painfully. "stop. i don't want to–"
"no." he interrupts firmly, with a shake of his head so resolute it almost has you believing that was never his intention to begin with. your eyes gravitate towards his again, and there's a spark of something, under the surface, when his thumb strokes your skin, dipping just below the hem of your sleeve. "talk to me, what's wrong?"
the urge to give in is tempting, to fall into his arms like you always do, just how he wants, how he expects you to. this time, however, you're determined to avoid his trap.
"it's nothing," you avert your gaze again, sighing in the same moment you take his wrist and slowly pull his touch from your arm, "just leave it."
john tuts. "it's not nothin', though, is it?" he asks, sidestepping into your line of sight again and ignoring the pointed look you give him. "talk to me."
if he cared for you the same way you do for him, his persistence would be endearing, but you know better. you're a good soldier who just so happens to be a good fuck too; that's all you are to him, and that's all you'll ever be.
"i told you. drop it." you shake your head, face creasing into a frown as you turn on your heel. if you have to endure any more of his deceiving sympathy, you know you'll only end up caving to his desires. you're not that strong, and that's why you need to keep as much distance as possible between you.
"you're somewhere else, lieutenant." he calls after you, stopping you in your tracks before you can get too far. you don't bother to turn around, but he continues anyway. "if you can't get your head back in the game, i can't risk havin' you out in the field."
your indignant laugh bounces off the walls.
"it's just that easy for you, isn't it?" there's a lump in your throat as you force the last two words over it, one you hope neither of you will acknowledge.
"and what's that supposed to mean?" he scoffs, the sound of his boots taking a few damning steps closer to where you stand, still with your back to him.
"i don't know why i'm offended, you always do this." you mutter, bringing your hand up to smooth over the crease of your brow, the tremble there barely noticeable but telling of your fragile state.
he doesn't respond this time, waiting for you to elaborate with what you're sure is a glare directed at the back of your head.
"you find something to take, and take, and take from," you spin around to face him again, which proves to be a mistake because the second you meet his concerned eyes, you can feel the sting of tears in your own. "and as soon as it's not useful to you anymore, you chuck it away like yesterday's leftovers."
the silence that follows your outburst is so tense it weighs you down. you can't will yourself to move, to tear your gaze away from him even when your vision blurs. it takes a moment for you to realise just how ragged your breathing has become, feeling the hard rise and fall of your chest over your racing heart as you come down from your anger.
"that… that's not what this is." john utters, his face morphing into something you coin as pity, and it makes your heart squeeze all over again.
"don't. i told you to fucking leave it…" your voice is weaker than before, and you curse yourself for showing this amount of weakness in front of him, because now you know he knows that it was never just sex to you. he never meant that little to you.
by some miracle you manage to blink away the tears before they can fall and embarrass you further. you wait for him to say something, in a painful sense of awkwardness that's never been there before, but all he does is stare at you.
"i can't do this anymore." you whisper, the words muffled through the blood rushing in your ears. you fix him with another scathing look before turning to leave for the second time tonight.
"wait." he calls your name as you walk away, quickly moving to catch up with you, but you have no desire to listen to him, not anymore. he gives you no time to react when he rushes to stand in your path, grasping both your shoulders to stop you when you try to sidestep him. "for fucks sake, just hold on."
there's a conflicted look in his gaze that seems to pull his expression down with it. if you had anything left to give you might've felt bad for being the cause, but it's been months of this game of cat and mouse, and you're drained.
"it was a mutual arrangement," he urges, his eyes search yours, something you can't discern muddying the deep blue as they dart across your face.
you give a watery scoff, rolling your eyes in an attempt to rid yourself of the ache his touch brings you. "there was no arrangement. you're not an idiot, john, you knew how i felt about you."
"what?" he has the audacity to sound confused, and you have to resist the urge to scoff again. "how you felt about me? what're you saying?"
"i think it's pretty obvious by now." you mutter, folding your arms over you chest, trying to make yourself as small as possible. he hasn't taken his eyes off you once, your skin prickling under his intense stare. "i'm an idiot for thinking this would go any other way."
there's another heavy pause, john opens his mouth and closes it again like he was fighting with himself on what to say. the way your throat has constricted makes it hard to breath without sobbing, your breath coming out laboured and uneven.
"do you regret it?" he finally asks, his fingertips pressing into your flesh almost imperceptibly, leaving your skin tingling even though your shirt.
it was self-destruction, giving in to him every time even though it felt like a thorn in your heart. to allow yourself to live in the fantasy that he loved you while you were in his arms, just to have that warm feeling shattered when he told you to get dressed.
"yes."
you regret falling for someone who would never love you back.
"it's over. let me go, captain." you whisper, a plea for him to release you from whatever spell he's got you under, even if you don't really mean it.
his hands drop from your shoulders, letting one curl into a fist at his side and bringing the other up to scratch his beard in an uncharacteristically nervous gesture. you know it's for the better, but the knowledge couldn't stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks. you brush past him, feeling his gaze burning into you as you lean away to avoid touching him.
he doesn't stop you when you walk away this time.
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scarlethexelove · 5 months
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How about a WandaNat fic where both are slightly dark and kidnap R. R isn't too worried about it though and soon grows to actually love both of them. Maybe something angsty with a happy ending 🙂
We'll Keep You Safe
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Pairing: WandaNat x Reader
Word Count: 1546
Warnings: Domestic violence, kidnapping, allusion to drugging, murder, I don't think there is much else.
Part 2 Save You
A/N: First I want to thank @abbyromanoff for the help on a bit of the story idea. I was struggling to come up with how they get to the point so thank you Abby. Hope this is what you wanted I'm not really sure how much I like this one myself but I hope you enjoy.
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN
You run from your house. Your wife is screaming at you to come back but you don't, you just run to your neighbors house. They told you if you ever needed anything that you could come to them. So that is what you did. Tears streaming down your face, your right eyes almost swollen shut and a gash on your cheek. You cradle your right arm with your left pretty sure that your wrist is broken. 
This wasn’t the first time she hit you, but this was the worst. You said you would leave but every time you were about to she promised to change to never hit you again. All she did was give you broken promises. So this time you ran her anger being heard even as you got to the front door of your neighbors. 
You banged on the door with your left hand as you looked back, scared she would follow you. You kept knocking even as the door opened, startling you and almost hitting the woman at the door. “I-I’m sorry.” You stuttered out. 
The beautiful brunette looks at your concern and anger swirling in her eyes. “S-sh-she” you stutter more, not able to form words. “Help” your voice sounding so small, your legs giving out as pain starts to spread through your body. The adrenaline wears off making you feel the full force of your injuries. Wanda catches you in her arms slowly helping you to the ground and pulling you into her. 
“Natasha!” Wanda calls out to her wife. Natasha comes around the corner, as soon as she sees you there is fury in hers. Your face is buried in Wanda’s neck as you cry. Natasha tries to make her way past you both so that she can teach your wife a lesson but Wanda stops her. Instead Wanda passes you to her wife. Sharing a knowing look. Natasha cradles you in her arms and carries you into the living room sitting down with you on the couch. Burying yourself into her she holds you tightly as you cry continuously apologizing to her as you soak her shirt in your tears. 
Natasha shushes you as she rubs her hand up and down your back. Wanda making her way into the kitchen. A few minutes later as you start to calm down Wanda returns with a tray. A tea pot and some tea cups sit on the tray. She pours a cup for you. Natasha coxes you out of her neck as Wanda extends the cup of tea. You take it hesitantly and take a few sips. Both women give you a sad smile. 
“Honey, do you want to tell us what happened?” Wanda speaks gently as she sits down on the edge of the coffee table in front of you. You lightly nod your head before speaking. “I-I came home and Lila was pissed. S-she found the divorce papers I had hidden. I tried to tell her I wasn’t going to but she s-started hitting me. I-I ran here as soon as I could get away.” You tell the woman. “I’m scared.”
“We won’t let her hurt you again.” Natasha says. You can feel her anger but also her concern. You lay your head on her shoulder starting to feel sleepy and your body feeling numb. The pain fading away. Your body feels heavy as you try to speak again but no words come out. That is the last thing you remember before everything goes black. 
You blink your eyes open, your body feeling weak and heavy. It’s hard to keep your eyes open but you're able to look around. You are wearing different clothes which freaks you out. Did someone change you? What the hell happened? Why are you here? And where is Wanda and Natasha? All these questions run through your mind. Panic setting in.
You start to look around again. This room is not one you are familiar with. The walls are wooden and a few paintings scattered around. There is a bedside table next to the bed you are laying on. It is soft, softer than anything you have been on in a long time. One of your wifes punishments for a long time has been sleeping on the ground. You notice the water on the bedside table which makes you realize how thirsty you are. Your mouth feels as though you have cotton in it. So you reach out grabbing it, but as you bring it to yourself you drop the glass and it shatters on the ground. 
Just then the door swings open and you see a panicked Wanda with Natasha behind her. They both quickly rush towards you. “Are you ok? Did you hurt yourself?” Wanda questions quickly come up next to you grabbing your hands and looking you over to see if you have any new injuries. “Where am I? What are we doing here? Why am I wearing different clothes?” You send out a rapid array of questions to the woman.
Wanda gives you a soft look. “We brought you here.” She told you, placing a hand on your check which you flinch from before letting her touch you. “We had to get you away from her.” Natasha added as she bent down cleaning up the shattered glass. “H-her, y-you mean my wife?” You question starting to push Wanda away and scrabble out of the bed. She grips you tightly and doesn’t let you up. 
“Ow, Wanda you're hurting me.” You tell her as her grip loosens on your good wrist. That is when you realize that they have tended to your injuries and cleaned you up. “Sorry detka. We just want to keep you safe. We never want to hurt you. You deserve so much better than that woman can provide you. We just want to keep you safe and give you the love you deserve.” Wanda gently tells you, holding your hands in hers. You let yourself relax and stare at her. “She can never hurt you again.” Natasha adds sitting down next to you. 
You can’t help but admit that you have had a crush on the women since you met them, but you have a wife and they were married to each other. So you always push down those feelings, but sitting here with the woman feels just right. Natasha’s words echoing in your head which causes you to think. “What do you mean she will never hurt me again? You can’t know that. W-what if she finds me?” You quickly panic at the thought. 
“She won’t be a problem anymore Y/n I promise you that.” Natasha reassures you, but something still doesn’t sit right. “Did you hurt her?” You question the woman sitting next to you. You can see an evil glint in her eyes. “No one will ever hurt you again and no one will ever find her.” Natasha said, trying to lessen the blow to the fact that she inadvertently admitted to killing your wife. You should be scared and you should try and run from them. They did kidnap you and murder your wife but you can’t find it in yourself to do any of that. They seem to care so much about you and you wouldn’t be surprised if they actually love you. 
“I-I I don’t know what to say.” You stutter out. They have already done more for you and made you feel so safe in such a short amount of time. So you accept it. You accept that they have killed your wife and brought you somewhere to keep you safe. They have taken care of your injuries. Your wrist has been set, they cleaned your cheek. Your eye doesn’t seem to be as swollen anymore. They really care for you. 
“You don’t have to say anything Y/n we love you so much already and we just want to give you everything you deserve.” Wanda gently strokes the back of your hand with her thumb. Natasha leans in and kisses your forehead. “You mean the world to us detka.” Natasha adds. Tears spring into your eyes at their words. They do love you and they are gentle with you. A stark contrast to the life you have been living. So you let the rational part of you go and you listen to the warm feeling in your chest. Leaning your body into Natasha as she wraps her arms around you. 
You feel tired again, your body relaxing with the safety you feel for the first time in a long time. You can’t remember the last time you felt like this. As you relax into Natasha she starts to guide you to lay down. She shuffles you and herself back on the bed pulling your body fully into hers. Wanda slides in behind you and wraps her arms around your waist as she gently kisses your shoulder. 
“We have you sweet girl and we promise to never hurt you.” Natasha kisses the top of your head. Your tired eyes closing as you nuzzle into her chest. You can get used to this. Living safe and sound with two women who love and care for you. “I love you.” You whisper as you drift off into a deep sleep. 
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colonelarr0w · 2 months
Text
What Might've Been
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Sypnosis - A mysterious girl appears at the entrance of Jujutsu Technical High School -- not speaking a lick of English and not understanding where she is. She isn't human...but that gets you wondering...what is she?
Pairing(s) - ! ALL PLATONIC ! Satoru Gojo x Reader, Suguru Geto x Reader, Shoko Ieri x Reader
Warning(s) - mature themes, canon JJK violence, gore, child death, angsty ending (I'm sorry gang)
Word Count - 10.4k
A/N - Randomly got an idea to write a fic where the Reader was a curse. I hope you all enjoy reading this just as much as I enjoyed writing it!
! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !
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Darkness. 
For as long as you could remember, the only sight seen by your eyes was an overarching darkness that seemed to stretch on forever — never once giving any indication that there may be some kind of light at the end of the otherwise never ending tunnel.  
And to you, that was okay. The darkness became your friend over time, enveloping you in a cocoon of safety that could not be replicated by anything. It held your hands and guided you, watching silently as you grew and developed until a time where you could be used — until a time where you would be useful to the world of curses. 
But like many things, your darkness eventually found its end, creating an opening that allowed light to pour in and the warmth of the sun to touch your skin with gentle hands. Confused, you folded your fingers into the hand that the light offers you, and with squinted eyes you look around.  
Where am I? 
Your head turns, blinking a few times to adjust to the overwhelming light that only seems to brighten each time that your eyelids flutter open. Slowly, you turn in a circle on the heels of your feet, suddenly aware of the unfamiliar sensation that lies beneath the skin of your feet.  
You glance down, tilting your head curiously at the uneven stones beneath you. Curiously, you bend your knees, lowering your palms to the ground and laying it flat against the stone, shocked to feel heat emanating back onto the skin of your palm.  
What are you doing? 
You stand up straight, ears perked as you attempt to locate the source of the voice who had addressed you. Oddly enough, you stand completely alone in the stone pathway, surrounded only by unmoving trees and bright green grass. You open your mouth, trying to will any kind of sound to leave your parted lips, but you remain silent. 
You press your lips back together in a firm line, narrowing your eyes and once again lowering yourself to the ground, this time taking a seat in the center of the stone pathway. Above you is a maroon-colored arch, one that is hanging over a set of stairs that lead somewhere — but you’re not entirely sure just where it leads to.  
Are you comfortable? 
You nod happily, laying both of your palms against the warm stones and spreading out your fingers, feeling smaller pebbles being caught within the lines of your skin. Your eyes wander up your arm, noticing the small stitches that hold the various parts of you together. 
The scars don’t horribly disfigure you, not like the other curses that you could recall seeing in the depths of your memories. They turned out more inhuman than you, you were one of the lucky who was made to pass as human — only discoverable by eyes that shined like the prettiest aquamarine stones. You believe it was called Six Eyes. 
You lift one of your hands off of the stones, suddenly aware of just how hot it had felt against your skin. You shake your hand, forming an ‘o’ with your lips and blowing on the palm of your hand, shocked to feel an opposite sensation. It wasn’t warm, but at the same time it wasn’t completely cold. But it was cold enough to relieve the burn on your skin — and it’s then that you notice the pattern left behind by the stones.  
“C’mon Suguru, I’m sure he won’t mind if we take our time with this one.”  
You turn your head at the sound of another’s voice, tilting it curiously as you watch two figures appear at the top of the steps. Both are tall and wear the same kind of clothing, yet they also wear completely different styles. One of the figures — this one with bright white hair — wears his clothes tight, accentuating his otherwise lanky figure. The other figure — this one with longer, darker hair — wears his clothes baggy, with parachute pants that make his legs look larger than they most likely are. 
You wonder which one of them is supposedly ‘Suguru’. 
Careful now, remember the eyes. 
You nod your head, pushing yourself to your feet with the help of your hands. You lift your head to peer up the stairs, noticing how both of the figures had stopped walking and are peering at you with the same curiosity as yourself.  
“Hey! What’re you doing down there?” It’s the white-haired figure that calls out to you, his covered eyes no doubt focused on you. The dark-haired figure is silent, watching you with a wordless curiosity. Opposites. 
You part your lips to speak again, feeling an uncomfortable vibration in the base of your throat. You quickly snap your jaw shut again, rubbing your fingers against the skin of your throat and wincing — that had been oddly painful. But at the same time, it only spurred on your curiosity. Why could the two figures make sounds with their mouths and you couldn’t? 
“Hey!” the white-haired figure calls out again, this time lifting his arm and waving down at you. You mimic him, lifting your arm and waving back at him. Confused, the white-haired figure turns to the dark-haired figure at his side, nudging him before beginning to descend the steps. 
You wait patiently for both figures to approach you, but even when they do, they stand a healthy distance away from you — likely because of the discolored scars that litter your body, holding you together like a freshly stitched doll.  
An uncomfortable silence hangs over the three of you, only broken by the dark-haired figure clearing his throat and speaking to you, “What are you doing down here?” 
You try for the third time to do what the dark-haired figure is doing — making sounds with his mouth. But the moment that you try, a strangled cough falls from you instead. With both palms, you cover your mouth, cheeks flushed in embarrassment as the figures exchange a look with one another.  
“What’s up with you?” the white-haired figure asks, tilting his head at you. You pout, jutting out your bottom lip and crossing your arms over your chest, disappointed that you couldn’t articulate yourself in the same way that both of the figures could.  
The dark-haired figure is more sympathetic towards you, smacking a hand into the chest of the white-haired figure and shooting him a pointed glare. He turns back to you after a moment, his eyes softening as he gestures with his head towards you.  
"You can't speak?"  
You shake your head, furrowing your eyebrows to create an expression that is a mixture between frustration and sadness. The dark-haired figure nods understandingly, humming to himself. You mimic him, humming as well.  
The white-haired figure glances between you and the dark-haired figure, then letting out a dramatic sigh and throwing an arm over the shoulders of the figure standing beside him, still glaring at you through his sunglasses as if you were a roadblock to him – and in a way, you were. 
"Come on Suguru, this is pointless. Let's just--" 
"Shut up Satoru." 
Suguru. He's the one with the dark hair.  
Satoru. He's the one with the white hair.  
Opposites. 
You tilt your head curiously at them, listening as they bicker with one another. How Suguru tries to patient with both you and Satoru and how Satoru only continues to act like a spoiled child. Your eyes continue to flicker between each of the two as they speak, taking mental notes of the difference in their tones, postures, and facial expressions.  
Suguru then turns to you again, having effectively shut Satoru up. You find yourself smiling at the expression that Satoru wears; he looks more like a disappointed child now as opposed to a spoiled one. It made you wonder if he acted like that constantly, or if it was because you were around.  
"Why don't you come with us?" Suguru offers, extending his hand to you. You peer curiously at it, how his fingers lightly shake and how the lines in his palms flex as his fingers extend out to you. You glance down at your own palm, flexing your fingers before placing your palm flat on top of Suguru's. 
Rolling his eyes, Satoru turns on his heel and begins to move back up the stairs, not caring to glance over his shoulder to check that you and Suguru were following him.  
You glance at Suguru, who still holds your hand. You hum again, smiling as Suguru's eyes flicker to meet your awaiting gaze. He returns your smile, then gesturing with his head towards the top of the stairs. You nod understandingly, falling into step with Suguru and climbing the steps.  
You tilt your head back to look at the archways that line the stairs, smiling to yourself as you walk quietly beside Suguru – neither of you say anything about the fact that your fingers are still interlinked. For as foreign as it was to you, it also felt familiar. 
"Come on, you're both taking forever!" Satoru complains from further up the stairs, turning to finally glance at both you and Suguru from over his shoulder.  
You release your hold on Suguru's hand, deciding to take it two steps at a time to properly catch up with Satoru, not wanting to hear him complain any longer. You spread your arms out to balance yourself once you reach the top of the stairs, spinning on your heel and grinning widely as Suguru walks into view – immediately returning your childlike grin. 
"What do we say to Yaga?" Satoru asks as Suguru moves to stand at his side. Suguru hums, his gaze momentarily flickering to sneak a glance at you. You lift your hand to wave at him once his eyes land on you, then taking two large steps to stand directly beside Suguru.  
"I'm sure we'll figure something out," Suguru mutters, feeling his spine stiffen as you bravely fold your fingers into his own, squeezing at them and sending him another closed-eyed smile.  
< … > 
"And she was simply sitting there?" Yaga clarifies, raising an eyebrow at Suguru and Satoru – both of whom nod their heads. Satoru crosses his arms over his chest, having been mentally checked out of the conversation since first entering the office.  
"From what we both saw," Suguru says, sneaking a glance at Satoru and mentally smacking his best friend at the disinterested look on his face, "yes. She was just sitting there." 
Yaga hums in thought, folding his fingers together and resting his chin on top of his knuckles. He turns his head to the door, curious to see what would happen if he were to open it and allow you inside. But at the same time, he didn't want to risk a possible Curse or Curse User to have entry to his office, knowing that the action would carry its own unique set of consequences.  
"Is she human?" Satoru asks, breaking the otherwise tense silence in the office. Yaga's eyes flicker to the third-year, his eyes narrowing as he mulls the question over in his head. That specific thought had not crossed his mind yet – were you human? 
"Has she demonstrated anything that would indicate otherwise?" Yaga inquires. Satoru and Suguru exchange glances, thinking about your odd behavior and your inability to verbally communicate with either of them.  
"Well, she acted oddly as we spoke to her. And when she herself tried to speak back to us, it was almost like she wasn't able to," Suguru answers, recalling the way that you had opened your mouth to speak and winced at the realization that nothing would come out.  
Yaga nods thoughtfully, once again looking to the closed office door. He ponders his options, weighing them in his mind before he braces his palms against his legs, rising to his feet. He closes the distance to the door in two, long strides.  
Outside of the door, you turn your head to the sound of the office's door clicking open, revealing a man with tanned skin and buzzed dark brown hair. You tilt your head up at him, pushing yourself to your feet and hiding your hands behind your back, peering up at the man with curious eyes.  
"Hello there," Yaga says to you, trying his hardest not to sound intimidating. You blink at him, resembling a deer caught in a truck's headlights as you tilt your head to the opposite side.  
Deciding to try again, you part your lips to speak, wanting desperately to say something to the man that towers over you. But just like the previous two times, the only thing that comes from your throat is a hum – just like how Suguru had hummed at you before.  
Furrowing his eyebrows, Yaga glances down at your hands, watching as you lay your fingers against your throat, squeezing at it as if trying to force sounds out of it. He narrows his eyes at you, humming to himself before turning back to the office door. No, you weren't human. 
"Why don't you come with me?" Yaga offers, gesturing with his hand towards the office. You follow his gaze, peering inside to see both Suguru and Satoru sitting on two wooden chairs. You grin, promptly making your way inside and beelining for Suguru, lowering yourself to sit cross-legged in front of his chair. 
Yaga is only a step behind you, watching through narrowed eyes as you sit down in front of Suguru. With the way that you glance up at him, one might think that you were the third-year's obedient dog. Your eyes wait for him to notice you, lighting up the moment that his gaze meets yours – even if it's only for a fleeting moment.  
They know what you are, be very careful. 
You shake your head, ignoring the ringing in your ears and turning back to Yaga. The older man sits behind a grand oak desk, one that has papers scattered about its surface with scribbled lines drawn onto them. Suguru furrows hie eyebrows down at you, having noticed the flickering expression that had passed over your face – as if someone had blown into your ear and startled you.  
"Both of you keep an eye on her. You may tell Shoko as well, but try to keep her from the other students," Yaga instructs, receiving nods of agreement from both Satoru and Suguru. You turn your head halfway to Yaga, curious as to who this mysterious 'Shoko' was.  
Would they be another figure like Satoru? Or were they someone like Suguru? 
"We understand," Suguru says, then standing from his seat and offering his hand to you. You lay your palm against his, allowing him to lift you off of the ground with shocking strength.  
Satoru puffs out the air that he holds in his lungs, not reacting as his bangs fall back into place over his eyes, shielding his vision. You tilt your head at him, was he hiding his eyes on purpose? Or was there something else about him that you simply didn't know?  
"Come on, let's get you a uniform," Suguru says to you, smiling. You return his smile brightly, bounding after him as he makes his way to the door of the office. Satoru follows close behind, hunched over with his hands stuffed into his pockets. It was effortlessly clear that he was inconvenienced by your presence. 
You follow close behind Suguru as he leads you down a long, winding hallway. Besides the three of you, there isn't anyone else, which only piques your curiosity in who 'Shoko' was and who the 'other students' were. Deep down, you hoped that Shoko wasn't anything like Satoru – who continued to make it clear that he didn't like you one bit.  
You turn your head to sneak a glance at Satoru, taking a mental note of the way that his eyebrows pinch together and the way that a pout settles over his lips. He walks close to Suguru's side, similar to the way that you did.  
Suguru stops walking eventually, turning to peer down a small archway that leads to an outdoor area, one with the trees that matched those that you had walked past when Suguru and Satoru had led you up all of those stairs.  
"Stay here, I'll go and get Shoko," Suguru says, nodding at both you and Satoru before walking outside. You take a step after him, but Satoru is quick to stop you, his fingers closing around your wrist and tugging you back to your original position.  
"He said stay," Satoru says slowly, speaking to you as if you were a child who lacked understanding. You nod at him, pressing your lips firmly together and waiting patiently for Suguru to return.  
The dark-haired male returns a few seconds later, another figure following behind him. Their hair is short and brown, with a beauty mark just underneath their left eye. You peer curiously at them, watching as they shift the position of something in their mouth – a stick with a brown end.  
"Woah," the figure says, eyes raking up and down your figure before their eyes flicker between Suguru and Satoru, neither of which say anything in response. "Shoko, it's nice to meet you." 
You smile brightly at the figure, holding your hand out to her in the same way that Suguru had done to you so many times before. Shoko returns your smile with one of her own, soft and gentle; and her hand folds into yours, shaking it politely. 
"We've been tasked to keep an eye on her. She isn't allowed to be around any of the other students, obviously with us being the only exception," Suguru explains, stowing his hands away in his pockets, "at least, that's what Yaga told us." 
"Babysitting duty," Satoru says in a sour tone, scrunching his nose in an expression of disgust as he glances to Shoko. She reaches a hand out, swiping at the back of his head and rolling her eyes at the dramatic cry that he lets out.  
"You're such a jerk," Shoko mutters through her teeth, then turning to you, "don't mind him, yeah?" 
You flash her a closed-eye smile, nodding in agreement.  
< … > 
"Go on and try again, there's nothing wrong with trying," Suguru says with a reassuring smile, finding himself biting back a chuckle at the frustrated expression that passes over your face. You puff your cheeks out, annoyed at the fact that every time that you tried to speak...nothing happened.  
You inhale deeply, puffing your chest out and holding the air in your lungs before forcing your lips apart, trying once again to say one simple word.  
Ignoring the small burn in your throat, you screw your eyes shut. 
"Hello." 
Suguru smiles, his eyes crinkled at the corners as you open your eyes again, staring at him like a deer in headlights. "See? I told you that you could do it." 
You grin widely, springing up from your place in front of Suguru and barely containing the excitement that shoots through you. You curl your hands into gleeful fists as you continue happily dancing around, earning a proud chuckle from Suguru. 
"Hello," you repeat, shocked at the sound of your own voice. It didn't sound anything like the little whispers in your head. Those were raspy, gravelly voices that felt like nails being dragged down a chalkboard. Your voice was soft, quiet – a stark contrast. 
"Hi," Suguru returns, smiling again at you as you seat yourself back down in front of him. "Now, what's your name?" 
You purse your lips, humming in thought before bubbling, "(Y/N)!" 
Suguru nods, reaching a hand out to affectionately ruffle your hair. You lean into the touch, smiling brightly and repeating your name to him again.  
Your ears perk at the sound of two pairs of footsteps, turning to see Satoru and Shoko walking into the otherwise empty classroom – presumably looking for both yourself and Suguru. Satoru says nothing to either of you whereas Shoko waves politely, shooting you a kind smile.  
"Hi!" you say excitedly. The sound of your voice causes Shoko's eyes to widen, the cigarette between her lips falling to the floor in front of her. The ghost of her smile returns, spreading across her face as she kneels in front of you.  
"Well would you look at that? You found your voice," Shoko compliments, patting your head in a fashion similar to the way that Suguru had. You smile at the display of affection, leaning closer to Shoko and then glancing to Satoru, hoping for that same kind of praise.  
He rolls his eyes begrudgingly, unfolding the arms that he had previously crossed over his chest. "Good job (Y/N)." 
You smile, scrunching your nose up at him. 
< ... > 
"There you go. Now, when you go to punch someone, tuck your thumb inward," Suguru instructs, lifting his hand and folding his own thumb inward, then gesturing to you to mimic the action.  
"In," you repeat, holding up your hand and making a show of tucking your thumb inward. Suguru nods at you, then gesturing to the punching dummy that he had nicked from one of the training rooms in order to help you with your self-defense.  
It had been six months since Suguru first stumbled upon you at the stairs of Jujutsu Tech, and in those six months he still didn't have an answer to the question of who you really were or where you truly came from.  
Sure, you looked human enough – even though the stitches that littered your body could tell a completely different story depending on the author. But even with those stitches, you acted like a constantly excitable child, always wanting to be at Suguru's side and wanting to be involved in everything that he did.  
To him, it was endearing, albeit very confusing at the same time.  
You turn to the punching dummy in front of you, curling your hands into fists and making sure to tuck your thumbs inward just like you had been told. You throw a punch at the dummy, smiling as it wobbles backward before returning to its original position.  
"Good?" Your body turns to glance at Suguru, already feeling your senses tingling at the proud smile that settles itself on Suguru's lips.  
"Good job (Y/N)." 
"Yeah, you're doin' great," Shoko agrees as she walks onto the training field, smiling and returning your hug as you rush to throw your arms around her. "Yeah, yeah, I missed you too." 
"Where's 'Toru?" you inquire curiously, tilting your head as you realize Satoru's absence. Shoko glances over her shoulder, furrowing her eyebrows and letting out an exasperated sigh through her nose.  
"He was supposed to be right behind me. Guess he got sidetracked," Shoko says offhandedly, though she regrets her tone upon seeing the fall in your expression. Your shoulders slump, eyes casting themselves to the ground as you take a step back from her.  
"Does 'Toru like me?"  
Suguru and Shoko exchange knowing glances with one another. Neither of them answer you quickly, which only adds to the feeling of dejection.  
Shoko lifts her hand, resting it reassuringly on your shoulder and sending you a comforting smile. "Sure he does, he just has a weird way of showin' it." 
All you could do is nod in response. 
< … >  
"A mission?" You can't help but tilt your head at Suguru, who only nods at you as he adjusts the cuffs of his sleeves. He chuckles, then turning completely to you. 
“Yeah, Yaga will sometimes send us out on missions. We go out to a given location and exorcise the curses that reside there,” Suguru explains, watching as you mull his words over in your head.  
Curses? Exorcise? 
“What’s a curse?” you ask, following Suguru as he begins to walk towards the entrance of Jujutsu Tech. He turns to glance at you over his shoulder, feeling himself smile as you spread your arms out to balance yourself, having accidentally rolled your ankle while following him.  
“A curse is—“ 
“There you are Suguru! I’m offended, you almost left without me,” Satoru says loudly from behind you, dramatically wiping away tears that definitely don’t exist.  
You turn and smile as the snowy-haired male approaches both you and Suguru, throwing his arm over Suguru’s shoulder and sparing you a half-assed glance. You smile and wave, still polite as ever.  
“Are you going too?” you turn to Satoru, “Yaga said that I can go too!” 
Satoru forces himself to smile, left eye twitching in annoyance as he turns his head to look at you. “Joy.” 
“Don’t be like that Satoru,” Suguru scolds, whacking a hand against the back of Satoru’s head. The latter lets out a yelp, cupping the back of his head and shooting Suguru a half-assed glare — one that is immediately reciprocated by the raven-haired male.  
You smile lightly at both of the boy’s antics, taking two steps to stand at Suguru’s left side, then turning your head to flash that same smile at Satoru. 
For a moment, something inside of Satoru softens. But only for a moment. 
“Ready to go?” you say to both of the third-years, smiling and folding your hands behind your back as your gaze flickers between the two.  
“Stay close, okay?” Suguru says to you, his eyes softening as his gaze falls on you. You smile, nodding your head at him.  
“Okay!” 
< … >  
So that’s what an exorcism is. 
You watch through curious eyes as Suguru holds what used to be a curse in his hands, fingers curled around the small, swirling ball. He lifts it up, eyes examining it for a moment before he notices your curious gaze.  
“That’s…what a curse is?” you say, pointing at it and scrunching your nose. Suguru nods his head, opening his mouth and promptly absorbing the curse — just as he always had done.  
Your eyes widen as you watch him consume the ball, eyebrows lifting to create a worried indent in the skin of your forehead. Your hands shoot out, taking hold of either side of his face and tilting it this way and that.  
“What did you do that for?!” you squeal, squeezing Suguru’s face and staring worriedly at him. He chuckles, unable to answer with the force at which you hold his cheeks.  
“It’s okay (Y/N),” he says, voice slightly muddled, “it’s just my technique.” 
“Technique?” you echo. 
He nods, adjusting his jaw once your hands release him. He smiles again at you, the sight slightly reassuring you.  
“Sorcerers have what are called Cursed Techniques, mine just so happens to be the absorption of curses,” Suguru explains, smacking his lips as a disgusted expression falls over his face.  
You tilt your head at him, pressing two fingers against your throat before your gaze returns to his facial expression — how his eyebrows are slightly pinched together, how his eyes water and how his jaw momentarily sets itself in place.  
“Not good?” you whisper to him, as if asking him about a secret that only he knew the answer to. Suguru’s eyes flicker to you, his gaze softening.  
“No,” he answers simply, shaking his head at you. You pout, bottom lip jutting out before you reach out and pat his shoulder — similar to the way that he would pat either your head or shoulder as a means of comfort.  
“Why do you do it then?”  
Suguru pauses, his hand coming up to cover your own. His fingers affectionately squeeze your own, lips turning upward in a smile just as soft as his actions.  
“It’s a curse (Y/N). We’re meant to exorcise them,” Suguru reiterates, smacking his lips together in an attempt to rid his tongue of the taste left behind by the consumed curse.  
You hum, glancing down at the stitches that crawl up your arms. We’re meant to do it. We’re meant to do it.  
But why are they meant to do it? 
“So…curses are bad?” you turn your head to Suguru, falling into step with him as he glances down at his phone. Satoru must have texted him regarding the curse that he was meant to exorcise. 
Suguru hums in agreement, stowing his phone away into his pocket and casting you a sideways glance. He makes a mental note of the conflicted expression on your face, eyebrows pinched together and eyes slightly narrowed.  
“Yeah, they pose as a danger to people that can’t see them. So us Jujutsu Sorcerers are sent to exorcise them,” Suguru explains, reaching behind him to fold his fingers into your own. Your lips, which usually turn upward at any given affection, remain pressed together in a thin line.  
Your eyes widen for a moment, an expression of realization flickering over your face. You stop walking beside Suguru, not reacting as his hand tugs at yours, silently telling you to continue walking.  
“…they pose as a danger to people that can’t see them.” 
Wait a minute. 
“What are you doing out here? Don’t you know it’s dangerous?” Suguru says gently to the little girl standing in front of him, her arms wound tightly around a small stuffed rabbit.  
She sniffles, using the hand that doesn’t hold her rabbit to wipe the stray tears that roll down her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she sobs.  
Suguru sighs, an exasperated puff of breath through his nose as he places a hand on top of the girl’s head, rubbing her hair comfortingly.  
“It’s alright.” 
Curiously, you kneel down beside Suguru, staring at the girl with your head tilted to the side. You lift a finger, pointing at the rabbit that the girl clutches to her chest.  
“I like your toy,” you say to her with a smile, mimicking the way that Suguru had smiled at the girl in order to prove that he wasn’t there to hurt her.  
The girl only sniffles again, her gaze never once leaving Suguru. Curiously, the raven-haired male flicks his eyes to glance at you — had the girl maybe not heard you? 
“I like your rabbit,” Suguru repeats, gesturing with his head towards the toy clutched in the girl’s arms. The girl smiles gently, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she hugs her rabbit a little tighter. 
“Thanks Mister.” 
You pause, blinking. The girl continues to smile at Suguru, forgetting about any and all of the fear that she had been feeling just seconds before.  
She couldn’t see you. 
Non-sorcerers can’t see Curses. Did that mean that…? 
“Hey…(Y/N), you alright?” Suguru asks, his voice filtering its way back into your ears. You turn quickly to him, blinking away the last remnants of your trance.  
“Yeah! I’m okay!” you answer with a bubbly smile, though that thought lingers in the back of your mind — what were you? 
< … > 
“Have any of you seen (Y/N)? I wanted to practice a Reverse Curse Technique with her,” Shoko shifts her cigarette from the left side of her mouth to her right, peering curiously at Suguru and Satoru.  
Satoru shrugs, sipping at the can of cola in his hand and glancing at Suguru, who also shrugs.  
“Lovely, you’re both so useful,” Shoko rolls her eyes, turning on her heel and departing from the room. She wanders down the hall, passing by your dorm and stopping as she notices the door had been left open.  
Curiously, she peers inside, shocked to see you sitting in the center of the room. Surrounding your crossed legs are various textbooks from taken from the library, all of them open to pictures of various curses — ranging from Second-Grade to Special-Grade.  
Your eyes roam over the sketched pictures, fingers running over a particularly nasty looking Special-Grade curse that looks oddly similar to a disfigured human — a woman to be exact. You tilt your head at the image of her, her arms were stitched in a similar fashion to your own, but yet you both looked drastically different.  
“(Y/N)? What’re you doin’ in here?” Shoko smiles softly at you as she enters, knocking once to alert you to her presence. You turn quickly to her, slamming the textbook shut and looking at her as if you had been caught doing something that you weren’t meant to be doing.  
“Hi Sho’!” you say affectionately, standing from your place in the center of the room and brushing your hands down the front of your pants. She eyes you curiously, humming to herself before removing her cigarette from between her lips, puffing out one last cloud of smoke before she walks to the window of your dormitory, then disposing of her finished cigarette.  
She tilts her head, noticing your avoidance of her question, “Everything okay?” 
You nod, humming at her and folding your hands behind your back, forcing your gaze to focus on her and not wander down to the closed textbook by your foot. You swallow the growing lump in your throat, wincing as it momentarily gets stuck — hopefully Shoko wouldn’t notice.  
“Yeah! I was just reading, Sugu said it was a good way to kill time!” you answer with your usual bubbly smile, but Shoko doesn’t fail to notice how it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. You were hiding something, and it wasn’t very subtle. 
“Oh cool, what’re you reading?” Shoko inquires, tilting her head and lowering herself to the floor, plucking one of the closed textbooks off of the ground and flipping through it. She makes a mental note of the way that your expression falls, like a child who had been caught doing something that they shouldn’t.  
“Reading about curses, those thingies that Suguru and ‘Toru went to exorcise,” you answer honestly, taking the textbook from her and opening to the page that you had been staring at, turning it towards her and smiling again — hoping again that she wouldn’t notice the way that you force your lips upward.  
“Oh, that’s a Special-Grade,” Shoko comments, smiling at you as you turn the textbook back around, glancing down at the sketched picture. “They’re tough ones.” 
“Stronger than Sugu and ‘Toru?” 
Shoko shakes her head, chuckling breathily, “No, not stronger than those two idiots.” 
You glance down at the picture, at the stitches on the curse’s arms and the way that its eyes crinkle in a sadistic, maniacal smile. You tilt your head — she looked a little bit like you. 
“Are curses bad?” you glance up at Shoko, who stares curiously back at you. “Are all of them bad?” 
“Well, yeah. They wanna hurt the innocent, and that’s why we exorcise them,” Shoko explains, following you to the floor as you sit down, crossing your legs. Your eyes wander back down to the sketched image, eyebrows pinching together.  
“But what if a curse doesn’t hurt people?” 
“That’s practically unheard of,” Shoko comments, turning to you, “a lot of the curses we exorcise have already hurt innocent bystanders.” 
You nod your head, though the action feels forced. You hadn’t hurt anyone…did that make you a bad curse? 
< … > 
Go away. 
Go away. 
GO THE FUCK AWAY. 
You step back from the now broken mirror, chest rising and falling in heaving breaths as you glance down at your reddened arms, nail marks dragged against your skin in angry red lines.  
Eyes that scream tales of hatred flicker up to your awaiting reflection, the broken glass giving your body a fragmented look that only adds to your disgust of the stitches that hold you together. 
You were the same as that broken mirror — fragmented and messily put back together by hands that weren’t your own.  
Your shoulders continue to rise and fall in tune with your heavy intakes of air, hands curled into white-knuckled fists with blood dripping down the crevices of your skin. You bled the same as they did, and yet you were still so drastically different. 
“Monster,” you whisper to your reflection, glancing back at it and reeling your arm back, preparing to strike at the broken mirror again. 
You are no monster. 
You pause, fist hanging limply in midair as you stare at your eyes. Something in you tells you to complete the action, but you don’t.  
“Curse.” Shakily, you lift a finger to point at the fragmented reflection that stares back at you.  
That’s better. 
You glance down at the reddened lines that now adorn your arms, nail marks left behind by angered scratching fueled by the sight of your stitches.  
You weren’t like Suguru or Satoru — they were human. 
I’m not human. 
Now show them what a true curse is. 
< … > 
"Another Special-Grade? Honestly, can they just not find qualified sorcerers to deal with these things?" Satoru complains loudly, his eyes momentarily falling shut as Shoko slips his darkened sunglasses onto the bridge of his nose.  
Suguru bites back the laugh that bubbles at the back of his throat, his gaze flickering to watch the dramatics of his best friend – which has now resulted in the snowy-haired male lying flat on the floor of the gymnasium, his arms spread at his sides like a starfish.  
"Supposedly, we're the only two that are qualified enough to take on Special-Grades. You know that Satoru," Suguru reminds him, kneeling down on the floor and sitting cross-legged beside Satoru, who blows a puff of air from his parted lips and groans as his bangs fall back over his eyes.  
"Bullshit," Satoru mutters, pushing himself up onto his elbows and turning his head just enough to glance at Suguru. 
"Come on, we should leave now before Yaga gets upset." 
Satoru groans again, standing with Suguru's help and glancing at Shoko – who is currently lighting what the males believe to be her fourth cigarette of the day, though neither of them comment on it.  
"Can one of you check on (Y/N) before you go? Haven't seen her," Shoko mutters, struggling momentarily with her lighter. The moment that the end of her cigarette is lit, she takes a deep inhale, then releasing the small cloud of smoke in front of her and waving it away quickly.  
Suguru's eyebrows pinch together, "What are you talking about?" 
Shoko pauses, she hadn't told either of them about the state that she had found you in that day; surrounded by meaningless textbooks and looking at the pictures as if they had resonated with you on a spiritual level.  
"Just," Shoko pauses, already lifting her thumb and index finger to the bridge of her nose, pinching it, "check on her, yeah?" 
Satoru opens his mouth to protest, but Suguru is quick to slap the palm of his hand against his friend's parted lips, effectively silencing him.  
"Sure thing," Suguru answers with a closed-eye smile, moving his hand from Satoru's mouth at the feeling of the center of his palm being licked.  
The walk to your dormitory from the gymnasium isn't very long, or at least, it wouldn't have been as long as it was if Satoru wasn't loudly complaining and dragging his feet. As much as Suguru wants to spin on his heel and tell Satoru to just stop, he restrains himself – focused instead on getting to you and figuring out the source of Shoko's concern.  
He rounds the corner to the student dormitories, his eyebrows pinching together as he notices your door open. Satoru pauses as well, resisting the urge that he has to throw out a sarcastic quip.  
"(Y/N)?" Suguru calls into the empty room, taking a step over the threshold and peering curiously around your dormitory's interior. The first thing that he notices is the overturned furniture, then the scattered pages of various textbooks, and lastly the broken glass that litters the floor. What the hell happened?  
"What the hell happened here?" Satoru asks, looking around and lifting his leg to be sure that he doesn't step on any broken glass. Suguru exhales shakily, already turning on his heel and leaving the room – now he understood all of Shoko's concern. 
"Come on, we're finding (Y/N)." 
< … > 
"No, wait, please!" 
You tilt your head, eyes widening momentarily as the man in front of you begins to expand, his eyes bulging from his head as blood spills from his lash line like tears. His hands lift shakily, fingers digging into his hair before his head promptly explodes.  
His body tilts backward, falling with a lifeless thud.  
See? Isn't it entertaining?  
You stare down at the headless corpse, kneeling down and poking at the blood that dribbles down the man's neck. The liquid clings to your skin, the sight bringing a disgusted curl to your lips as you quickly straighten yourself, standing.  
You turn on your heel, exiting the alleyway that you had cornered the man in, wandering down the busy street and listening to the buzz of the pedestrians that surround you. You turn your head this way and that, simply taking in the simplicity of the lives that humans lead.  
As you continue to walk down the street, you find yourself smiling at the fact that nobody pays you any mind – not that they had the ability to. You were unseen for as long as you wished to be unseen, creeping up on whoever you wished with the same stealth as a prowling cat.  
You should get that one next.  
You lift your head to look ahead, eyes landing on a young girl wandering the streets, her eyes bright and glittering as she skips along. Her arms are wound tightly around a stuffed animal, just like the other young girl that had been unable to see you on that mission with Suguru.  
A smirk curls the corner of your lips upwards, eyes crinkling at the corners as you slowly begin to stalk your way towards the young girl. She continues walking, her little pigtails swaying with each step of her feet. You reach a hand out, the tips of your fingers just barely grazing the back of her head. 
"(Y/N)." 
You pause, eyes wide as you lift your head to stare ahead. The young girl turns, her eyebrows pinching together in confusion as she stares right through you, her eyes focused instead on the raven-haired male that stands behind you.  
Suguru pauses, watching you with a tilt to his head that simply asks, "What are you doing?" His body language otherwise is relaxed, showing you that he was of no threat to you. He didn't want you to think that he was going to hurt you.  
You don't turn to face Suguru, instead reaching a hand out and laying your palm flat against the top of the girl's head. She gives no reaction, her eyes still focused on the male who had called her by the wrong name.  
Suguru watches through horrified eyes as the girl promptly expands, her voice catching in her throat. Her parted lips only release a high-pitched squeak before the upper half of her body explodes.  
Her blood spatters against the pavement in front of her, the lower half of her body tilting backward before it falls to the ground with a dull, lifeless thud.  
The passerby that walk down the street pause, and it only takes one person screaming to send the surrounding pedestrians into a state of unbridled panic. 
Suguru watches, his eyes wide as those around him scramble for safety, not knowing what was going on or who had been the cause of the carnage that lay in the middle of the sidewalk. His body stands as stiff as a board, eyes flickering momentarily down to the girl who lays in the sidewalk.  
“(Y/N),” he begins, taking a brave step towards you and reaching for your wrist. Your eyes flicker down to his outstretched fingers, quickly avoiding him and turning around to blankly glare at him.  
It was a look that he had never seen on your face before, hatred swirling in your eyes and a disgusted scowl curling the corner of your lip upward. You glared at him as if he were the scum of the Earth — devoid of all of the warmth that you once held for him.  
“What? Are you going to exorcise me too?” you inquire with a tilt of your head, hair falling over your shoulders as you turn completely to face him.  
Suguru furrows his eyebrows together, staring at you as if you had somehow sprouted another head. Exorcise you? How would he even be able to do that? 
He doesn’t know what you are, remind him. 
Your lips peel back in an angered growl as you turn your head to catch a glance at the young girl lying on the sidewalk. Her blood had already somewhat dried up, now caked on top of the sandy brown tiles of the pavement.  
“I did what the other curses do,” you murmur, eyes flickering down to your now bloodied hands. This very time yesterday you would have scrunched your nose in disgust and tried to scrub every last droplet of blood from your palms.  
But now? 
Now you looked down at the blood like it was your own personal golden trophy — a reminder of what you had become and the persona that you had adopted. If you were considered a curse, then you were going to show everyone a true curse…even Suguru. 
“Does that mean that now you’re going to exorcise me?”  
Suguru pauses, swallowing the growing lump in his throat and glancing at you with an expression that is an odd mixture of confusion and concern.  
“(Y/N), what are you talking about? You aren’t a curse,” Suguru says, his sentence momentarily broken by a breathy chuckle. You grit your teeth, shaking your head at him.  
He doesn’t understand…make him understand.  
“Only you, ‘Toru, and Sho’ can see me,” you point out, “nobody else can.” 
“That’s not true. Yaga and—“ his voice trails off. You nod knowingly, smirking as the realization finally dawns on the male standing in front of you.  
“And no one else,” you finish for him, taking a step towards him. Then you take another, and another, and suddenly your shoulder is brushing against his as you move to walk past him. “You don’t find that odd?” 
Suguru turns quickly, already wanting to reach out for you and knock some kind of sense into you. But you’re much swifter than he is, and you dodge the hand that reaches out for you. 
“But you aren’t like the other curses.” 
You smirk, gesturing with only your eyes down to the girl that lays dead in the middle of the sidewalk.  
“Is that not what other curses do?” you jab a thumb over your shoulder, reminding Suguru of what lies behind you. “Is that not why you exorcise them?” 
Suguru pauses, once again swallowing the lump in his throat and forcing his gaze to focus on you — trying to forget what lies just over your shoulder. He didn’t want to accept it, he couldn’t accept it, but you were making it abundantly clear that you held not an ounce of remorse.  
You were a curse. And he was a Sorcerer. 
What the fuck does he do now? 
< … > 
Suguru Geto —> Satoru Gojo 
You need to get down to ******. Something’s REALLY wrong with (Y/N).  
Satoru Gojo --> Suguru Geto 
What do you mean?  
Suguru Geto --> Satoru Gojo 
Just get down here.  
Satoru Gojo --> Suguru Geto 
Alright, I'm on my way.  
"Suguru! What's going on?" Satoru waves his hand in the air as he slows to a stop at Suguru's side, peering curiously at his best friend through the darkened lenses of his sunglasses. Suguru stands quickly, not bothering to answer before he's sweeping past Satoru and leading him in the direction that you had walked off in.  
Curiously, Satoru follows, falling quickly into step with Suguru as both sorcerers walk down the pedestrian-filled sidewalk. The former doesn't fail to notice the way that Suguru's eyes dart around the various shops and scan the various faces that happen to pass by. The only question that he had was; why? 
"Are you – uh – gonna tell me what's going on?" Satoru finally breaks the silence between himself and Suguru after they had been walking for a good five minutes in nothing but an awkward, tense silence.  
Suguru swallows the lump in his throat, voice heavy when he finds it, "Just...something's wrong with (Y/N)." 
"Yeah," Satoru replies with a roll of his eyes, "I gathered that much." 
"No, I mean really wrong. She isn't human Satoru," Suguru says gravely, already feeling himself shudder at the realization that you were nothing like what he had originally believed. But after you told him that nobody beside himself and the others at Jujutsu Tech could see you, everything quickly fell into place.  
"What do you mean she isn't human?" Satoru echoes, tilting his head curiously as Suguru stops at the entrance point of a darkened alleyway. Brown eyes stare quietly down the length of the alleyway, focusing on something before Suguru takes a brave step forward with Satoru following close behind.  
"I mean that she's a curse," Suguru says finally, turning his head to glance at Satoru.  
The snowy-haired male pauses, standing as still as stone at the entrance of the alleyway. His jaw is slack, but he's quick to snap it back into place. "A curse?" 
Suguru doesn't answer, not that he really needs to. But Satoru wants him to, he wants an explanation – a play-by-play of just how it came out that you weren't human. If you were really a curse, how come his Six Eyes had never told him that? What about you made them falter? 
Or maybe...maybe they hadn't faltered. Had Satoru ignored his Six Eyes when they told him that you weren't human when he first met you? 
"Let's just find her and get her back to Jujutsu High before anything happens," Suguru says as firmly as he can, though Satoru doesn't fail to notice the slight waver to his best friend's voice. He had cared about you from the moment that his eyes fell on you, tucking you underneath his wing and shielding you from the uglier parts of the Jujutsu world.  
And yet, here he was, still protecting you even when you were the one thing that he had sworn to protect other people from.  
That was the difference between Satoru and Suguru. Suguru would protect you even if you were digging a knife into his chest. He would protect you even if it meant turning the entire world against him. Satoru wouldn't. 
If he found you before Suguru, he would exorcise you on the spot – with absolutely no remorse.  
Because at the end of the day, if you were a curse, then you were no better than every other curse that he had seen. You were a danger, a hazard, a posing threat to all non-Jujutsu Sorcerers. It didn't matter what connection he had to you or what relationship he had with you; you were to be exorcised.  
"Why don't we just exorcise her?" Satoru suggests, indifference seeping into his tone. Suguru turns quickly, looking at Satoru as if he had just been stabbed.  
"Are you serious? Satoru, we can't just--" 
"She's a curse Suguru. It'll be the exact same as any other mission that we've gone on," Satoru points out, ignoring Suguru's pointed glare as the pair wanders further into the alleyway. "She can't be that strong, you've never trained her with the use of Cursed Energy." 
Suguru remains silent, looking around the nooks and crannies of the alleyway as if you would be hiding in any of them. Satoru follows closely behind, though he doesn't put as much effort into finding you.  
"Don't rope her into the same group as those other curses," Suguru says, turning and sending Satoru a warning glare, "she's nothing like them." 
From somewhere deep in the alleyway, both of the males hear a drawn out "aww".  
Suguru turns, eyes widening as he tries to locate where the sound had come from. He knew that voice, he knew that voice, of course he knew that voice.  
Satoru pauses, the arms that were once crossed over his chest unfolding as he follows Suguru's gaze, also trying to locate where the sound had come from. A whisper in his ear tells him to look upward, and so he does.  
There, sitting in the darkness, is you. Your legs dangle over the fire escape of the accompanying apartment building, arm lifting in a friendly wave as you gaze down at both Suguru and Satoru – both of whom remain silent at the sight of you.  
"Did you both come here to exorcise me?" Your voice is as sickly sweet as it always had been, though this time it's tinged with a second emotion, one that neither male is able to correctly put their finger on. Was it malice? Or was it a twisted sense of joy over being found? 
"No (Y/N). We came here to help you--" 
"No you didn't!" you're quick to cut him off, standing from your place on the fire exit and smiling widely. "I just heard you both. I may be a curse, but I'm not completely dense." 
Neither of them answer you, but you can see that they desperately want to. You wonder if they pause because they don't know what to say or if what they want to say would only fuel your already burning anger.  
"(Y/N)--" 
"How will you do it?"  
Suguru pauses, staring up at you. He swallows – he knows what you're referring to. You're wondering if he'll absorb you just like he would any other curse, or if he would exorcise you in a more traditional matter. You wonder if your off-colored blood would stain his hands and if he would stare at it the same way that you had stared at the young girl's blood on your own hands.  
Satoru looks down at his feet, ignoring the uncomfortable tingle in his bones as his nails dig into the palms of his hands. He grits his teeth, willing himself to remain silent even though he so desperately wants to bite out an angered comment to you. He wants to yell at you for deceiving him, for making him believe that you were human – that you could be trusted.  
And oddly enough, he doesn't. His urge to remain silent wins, and so stay silent is exactly what he does.  
"(Y/N), I'm not going to exorcise you," Suguru says reassuringly, trying his best to coax you down from your place above him. You tilt your head at him, eyes sparkling as you silently will him to continue. Maybe his argument would be good enough, but it would most likely be the exact opposite.  
"Yes you are," you bite back, tone bitter and dead. Suddenly you aren't as sweet as you were before, replaced instead by a persona that neither Suguru nor Satoru had seen before. Whatever curse you were, you had discovered it, and you were embracing it in a tight hug that nobody would be able to pry you from.  
That's right, remind them. 
"I'm just wondering how you're going to do it." 
Suguru shakes his head again, his voice catching in his throat. He knows that he's going to have to exorcise you, not even because of protocol but because of the safety of every non-Jujutsu Sorcerer. Though he doesn't want to believe it, anyone could see as plain as day, you were dangerous.  
You had killed a young girl without so much as a blink of your eye. Her blood on your hands meant nothing to you, you had glanced down at your stained palms with a glint of interest instead of disgust. You looked down at her body like it was nothing but a squashed ant on the ground.  
Who was to say that you wouldn't kill again with that same lack of remorse? 
"I'm not going to exorcise you," Suguru says again. You tilt your head, you know that he doesn't sound sincere, but at the same time he does. "I...can't exorcise you." 
You smile, eyes folding at the corners as smile lines indent your forehead. You stand from your place atop the fire escape, though you make no notion to make your way down to where both sorcerers stand. It's tempting, you could fight them and prove your strength; but it would most likely end with you being exorcised anyway.  
They were Special-Grade sorcerers after all, and you had no idea what grade level you fell into. All you knew was that you had the ability to make people disappear...or rather...make portions of them disappear into bloody heaps.  
"Suguru," Satoru says warningly, already readying his body for a flurry of attacks. If he had to fight you, he wouldn't hold back. To him, you were nothing but a curse, but this time, he knew your name.  
"Wait." 
Satoru pauses, watching as Suguru takes a brave step towards the fire escape, looking up its ladder to maintain eye contact with you. You peer curiously down at him, trusting him.  
His heart thuds in his ears as you slowly descend the ladder, pausing just a few steps above Suguru and glancing down your nose at him. Your hands hold the metal steps of the ladder, fingers curled tightly around the rusted metal as you remain silent, keeping Suguru's gaze.  
"You haven't answered me," you say quietly, your voice bordering on a whisper, "how are you going to exorcise me?" 
Suguru shakes his head again, blinking away the tears that cling to his waterline – a result of him keeping his eyes open for a prolonged period of time. He knows that he has to, but he doesn't want to.  
Was this the sacrifice of a Jujutsu Sorcerer? 
He's still going to exorcise you.  
You watch through widened eyes as Suguru's hand lays flat against your chest, fingers bunching up the front of your shirt and tugging you forward roughly. Before you're able to react, everything goes dark. Your vision closes it on itself, the last thing you see being Suguru's tear-filled eyes staring back at you, a desperate "I'm sorry" caught in his throat – never to be uttered.  
Satoru lifts his head at the sudden silence that falls over the alleyway, eyes widening as he notices the ball curled between Suguru's fingers. You're no longer standing on the ladder of the fire escape. 
It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what had happened.  
"Suguru," Satoru begins, taking a hesitant step towards Suguru. The raven-haired male only shakes his head, glancing down at the ball in his hand before he hesitantly opens his jaw. He wonders if maybe it wouldn't taste like a wet rag, but he knows that it will. All curses do.  
< … > 
"Hey, there you are," Shoko says with a smile, shifting her cigarette from one side of her mouth to the other as she walks to Suguru's side, hoisting herself up to sit on the windowsill in front of him. He turns to her, returning her softened smile with one of his own.  
"Sorry, was I keeping you waiting?"  
Shoko shakes her head, pinching her cigarette between her fingers and blowing out a small cloud of smoke. She turns her head to glance out of the window, squinting at the sunlight that filters in through the glass panes. "No, I figured you wouldn’t be keen on hanging out with everyone just yet." 
Suguru hums, taking the cigarette that Shoko offers him, its end still burning with that orange hue that he had always found beautiful. He takes it between his lips, inhaling and ignoring the burn that the smoke in his lungs gives off.  
"Just don't shut us out for good, yeah?" Shoko glances at Suguru, eyebrows raising. He chuckles at her, smoke pouring from his parted lips as he returns the cigarette to her fingers. "She was just as important to us as she was to you." 
Suguru sighs, through his nose, turning his head to glance out of the window. On one of the branches of a nearby tree, a crow rests comfortably, its head tilted to absorb the evening sun, soaking it in. It shakes off its feathers, then turning to look through the window, eyes locking with those of Suguru's.  
He stares back at it, blinking once before he returns to reality, half-listening to the story that Shoko had been telling him.  
"Listen to me for a minute," Shoko says, reaching a hand out and comfortingly squeezing Suguru's knee. He gazes quietly at her, wondering what it is that she wanted to say. "(Y/N) meant a lot to all of us. But you did the right thing in exorcising her. Who knows what she would've done if we just let her walk around freely?" 
"Was it my fault that she turned out the way that she did?" 
Shoko shakes her head quickly, throwing her cigarette down onto the floor and turning her foot to extinguish it with her toe. Her lips turn upward in another soft smile, this one reassuring.  
"If anything, it was the textbook's fault that she turned out the way that she did," Shoko says, her voice a mixture of serious and teasing.  
She notices the way that Suguru's expression doesn't change. His eyebrows are still pinched together in a way that displays his guilt – his regret over not being able to help you. His eyes are hollow, sullen. His irises speak a thousand words even though his lips utter nothing.  
She notices the way that his hands subconsciously clench into white-knuckled fists at the mere mention of your name. He had cared so much about you, in his eyes you could do no wrong. But to then have you become what you had...she couldn't imagine the pain that Suguru felt in his chest when she whispered your name.  
"Geto," she says, smiling as his head snaps to force his gaze on her, "it was never your fault that (Y/N) became what she did." 
The hand that rests on his knee pats it once, twice, three times. Just enough to comfort Suguru enough for him to momentarily forget about the guilt he felt over absorbing you.  
"We can remember her for what she was before...everything. There's nothing wrong with that." 
Suguru nods, smiling at the memory of your warmth and joy. How pure it was, how it radiated off of you as if you were the embodiment of the sun. In his memory, you weren't a bloodthirsty curse... 
...you were always going to be (Y/N). 
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astraystayyh · 1 year
Note
can i get a drabble with any member of your choice (or if you can't choose, i'm actually thinking either jisung/lino👉🏻👈🏻,) where they are just enjoying a nice peaceful morning with you. (maybe after either a passionate or a tense angsty night for a little spice if u want hehe)
5422
Pairing : Han x reader, pre-established relationship.
Genre : Angst, fluff.
I've always wanted to write about Han and this just gave me the perfect opportunity to do so. Hope you'll like it <3
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Fighting with Han is never fun.
You don't even remember what your disagreement was about, you just know that hurtful words were uttered, on both of your parts. And now, you're in the kitchen drinking your fourth glass of water, trying to delay the inevitable moment you'd have to go to your bedroom and face Han.
But it is already 11pm and you have to wake up early tomorrow. So you reluctantly place your glass down and head towards your bedroom. Your footsteps are heavy, and so is the burden in your heart.
You open the door slowly, to find Han already in bed, his back turned towards you. He kept the lights on for you, you realize. The small attention makes you stop in your tracks for a moment.
You quietly place Han's vitamins on his bedside before joining him in bed. There are mere centimeters between your bodies and yet they feel like a vaste ocean, stretching you farther and farther away from each other.
You find yourself missing your hushed conversations, the warmth of his body, and the way his hair tickles your neck when he pulls you closer to him.
But you are stubborn, and so is he. You won't yield first. So you stay put in your place, looking up at the ceiling. You know that sleep won't come easily to you tonight.
You don't know how much time has passed, but you can hear Han shift in his place. He sighs loudly before tapping your shoulder gently. "Come here," he whispers and you bite your lower lip forcefully.
"I'm still mad at you."
"I know. So am I. But I... I need you," he admits in a quiet voice and you feel all your anger melt away.
You inch closer to Han, tentatively resting your head on his chest, and his arms wrap around your body, pulling you closer to him. It feels safe and familiar, and you almost choke out a sob at the thought of not having him anymore.
"We'll figure it out, right? You're not leaving me," your voice is barely audible and Han's embrace tightens around you.
"Of course I'm not. You're not getting rid of me that easily," he teases and you chuckle lightly, the weight in your heart slowly unraveling, allowing you to breathe again.
When you wake up the next day, you find Han staring intently at you. You bury your face in his neck, too flustered by his intense gaze.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"It's hard to remember why I was angry when you look this pretty."
"Can we not do that again?" you pout, leaning back to look at him properly.
"Yeah, I hate fighting with you."
"Me too."
"We should come up with a code name for when one of us feels too overwhelmed, so we can give each other space," he proposes and you smile at him, "Like what?"
"A random word, like 'potato'."
"So in the middle of a fight you want me to say potato?" you giggle and he puffs his cheeks at you, "I don't know, we'll figure a better code later."
"Yeah? What will we do now?" you smile mischievously at him.
"Right now..." he trails off, his hand gently grazing your cheek, "I will kiss you to make up for all the lost kisses of yesterday."
"All of them? How many are we talking about?"
"5422 kisses." Your anniversary date.
"Isn't that too much?" you giggle and he shakes his head at you.
"There is no such thing as too much when it comes to you."
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pantherxrogers · 13 days
Note
Pookie since you’ve made a sugar daddy Yunho version, might as well do a Seonghwa. Plss pookie 😩😩 I’m on my knees. 💵💵💳💳I’m begging youu
blurb: sugar daddy!Seonghwa x fem!reader
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🖤 pairing: seonghwa x fem!reader
🖤 warnings: slight angsty, reader is kinda bratty, mostly fluffy/cute, a little suggestive
🖤 summary: even though she failed her driver's license exam, Seonghwa can't help but spoil his wife 🤭
🖤 a/n: POOKIE!!!! I’m so sorry that this took so long 😭 it’s been a busy week for me. I hope you love it! Thanks for your request! 😘
Seonghwa gives husband material, so he's a sugar husband lmao. Enjoy!! ☺️
my masterlist
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The soft chime of the alarm system makes your cheeks burn with embarrassment. You nestle further into the duvet, ashamed to face Seonghwa.
But, of course, your husband already knows. His heart aches when he sees you, a ball under the covers, used tissues littered across the silk sheets.
"Hi jagi, you okay?" He hums, sitting next to your swaddled form.
"I am an idiot." It comes out muffled, your face buried in the bedding. The rational part of you knows he'd never be upset with you, but you can't help feeling ashamed.
"You're the smartest person I know," he coos, slowly pulling the covers away from your face. His heart shatters when he takes in your features.
Your eyelids are slightly puffy, obviously caused by tears. Your lively curls are smushed down, a blatant sign that you've been in here for hours, stewing in your despair.
"I'm an adult who failed a driver's license exam," you cry out, feeling the tears well up again.
"You're my sweetheart who failed a very difficult driving exam in a foreign country," he tries to reason with you, wanting to take away your sadness.
“I’m never going to be able to drive anywhere,” you sob, nestling further into Seonghwa’s warmth. He pulls you into his lap, his suit be damned.
He almost chuckles to himself, knowing that you won’t be driving anywhere regardless. Your personal driver takes you wherever you please, but he knows how important this is to you. So, it’s important to him too.
The only sound in the bedroom are your soft cries and sniffles. Seonghwa’s hands draw slow circles on your back, doing his best to comfort you. Of course it’s working.
He’s always had a naturally calming energy. It’s what drew you to him in the first place. Eventually, your breaths level out, chest rising and falling in time with his firm one.
“I've got an idea,” he murmurs, standing up while cradling you in his arms.
“Hwa, I don't feel like shopping right now,” you cry out, hiding your face in his neck. Inhaling his cologne is almost like a grounding exercise. The woody, clean scent brings you comfort.
“I know, baby. I know.” He’s walking you down the hallway now, towards the front door of your estate.
"Then, where are you going?" you mumble, not in the mood to fully articulate anything. Normally, shopping would be a quick fix, but not even a new pair of shoes can help you now.
He ignores your question, still making the long journey towards the front door. Finally, arriving at the bottom of the marble staircase, his heart leaps in anticipation of the surprise. He's sure this will be able to pull you out of your funk.
“Fine, ignore me then,” you grumble, but sink further into his hold. It’s nice to have a change of scenery, even if he is just walking you through your home.
“You smell good, jagi,” he hums, making a show of sniffing your neck, inciting your giggles. “Maybe I should just take you back to the bedroom,” he grunts.
“Well, now I want to know what you were planning!” You huff, knowing he’s joking but also wanting to see this surprise. He chuckles in response, finally reaching the front door handle.
Once outside, Seonghwa gently places you on your feet, your Versace slippers protecting you from the hot stone. “I can’t see,” you whine out, already feeling agitated from the heat.
Seonghwa instinctively raises his hand above your brow, shielding you from the sunlight. The simple gesture warms your heart, prompting you to place a kiss on his shoulder.
It takes a while for your eyes to adjust to the bright day light, but Seonghwa’s makeshift shade speeds up to process.
He falters when you let out a high pitched shriek, chasing after your smaller form running towards the new car in your driveway.
“You got me a PORSCHE 911?!” You exclaim, eyes locked on the smooth, red paint. It’s the car of your dreams. Sporty, sexy, sleek and perfect.
“Anything for you, jagi,” he hums, pleased by your reaction.
“Hwa, it’s beautiful!” Your voice is still louder than normal, but you can’t help it.
The bad mood from the failed test is a distant memory. Your mind conjures up images of driving around in the car, curls blowing in the wind while Seonghwa’s hand rests on your thigh.
Warm, strong arms embrace you from behind, Seonghwa nestling into your neck to place a soft kiss.
"I'm glad you like it, beautiful," he murmurs, inhaling your scent. His nose traces along your neck, the light sensation causing goosebumps to arise on your skin.
"I love it," you breathe out, overwhelmed by the feel of him. The way his lean body shields you from the sun, wrapping you in his love makes your heart beat faster. The excitement from the new car is still there, but your mind clings to your love for your husband.
"Then, let's take it for a spin," he hums, reaching into his pocket for the keys. The reminder of your failure almost dampens your mood, before Seonghwa leads you over to the driver's seat. "No pouting, jagi."
"But-"
"Get in, please," he commands, opening the door for you. "I'll make sure you pass that test."
He closes the door softly, walking around to take his place in the passenger seat. When you start up the car, you feel a warm hand on your thigh, making you smile to yourself.
Maybe you won't be sailing down the streets with the top down today, but you're certain your husband is going to help you accomplish that soon.
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zepskies · 8 months
Note
Hello! I was wondering... kinda cringy but can I request comparing hand sizes with Soldier boy headcanons
Hey love!! ❤️
Aw, it's not cringey. That's actually really cute! Let me see what I can do for you...
Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female Reader Word Count: 500 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only on this one, folks! For some smutty musings on those talented fingers.
Headcanon: The way you love Ben's hands.
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You love playing with his hair, slipping your fingers through the soft strands.
But you also love his hands.
Despite the pampered lifestyle he led growing up, Ben is a very tactile person. He likes working with his hands.
You like to catch him when he's cleaning his weapons. He takes them apart and puts them back together expertly. His smooth hands and long fingers glide as they polish metal with a small rag.
You like to watch him try and fail to cook, ultimately burning the eggs. You like the way his hands move quick yet awkward with the wooden spoon scraping across the pan.
(He burns the bacon too. "It's better that way, extra fucking crispy," he grumbles, when you tease him.)
You like the strength in his hands, tempered just for you.
When his fingers brush across your cheek. When they graze your arm absently while something plays on TV. When he comes up behind you and rests a heavy hand at the small of your back. Or when they grip your hips and thighs and ass hard enough to bruise.
When those talented fingers tease you, slipping between your legs and finding the source of your pleasure with ease.
Long fingers slowly dipping inside your wet heat, exploring your inner walls with the practiced patience of a man fully familiar with every part of you.
They know where and how and when to twist and curl, making you utter broken gasps of his name and shudder from deep within.
And Ben gets something he loves: the sound of your voice as you come hard on his fingers, and make it known in his ear...
But sometimes, it's just as simple as laying with him in bed, afterwards, holding one of his hands in yours.
Your fingers trace over each and every one of his, noting the differences of his larger hand in your smaller one. You compare them in your mind: both different versions of smooth, his masculine to your slender. His blunt nails to your longer ones.
One night, you even line up your hand against his, like Tarzan and Jane.
His brows furrow. "The hell're you doing?"
A smile tugs at your lips. "Nothing. You've just got huge hands."
He snorts. "I have a man's hands."
You roll your eyes. Right. But your smile deepens when you bring the back of his hand to your lips. You turn it over and press a sweet kiss into his palm, closing your eyes.
Ben tolerates it.
Or so he'd have you believe.
Really, he just watches you as a tendril of warmth plumes in his chest. His lips hint at a smile.
There are wordless moments when he knows you love him.
He'll probably never tell you out right, but times like these are some of the ones he likes most with you.
They stay in his memory long afterwards. And when the darker ones threaten to cloud his day, he pulls these moments out like old photographs, imprinted on his mind.
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AN: Hehe, hope you guys like this one! ❤️
Just so you know, there's a longer SB imagine coming soon (either this coming week or next), and it is ✨Angsty.✨ 😅
I'll probably release an interesting one next. Though the request was a bit niche, I really got into it! So I'm hoping you all will enjoy. It includes reactions from Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, and Soldier Boy (Ben)...
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Soldier Boy Masterlist
Main Masterlist
SB Tag List:
@melancholictearz @katherineann83 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman
@iprobablyshipit91 @agalliasi @venicesem @deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @mimaria420 @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @skyesthebomb @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore
@agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @emily-winchester @tearsfortheyouth @solo-pitstop-vibes @dope-trope-105 @liuope @beautyvaliant @xxlaynaxx @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @tmb510 @iamsapphine @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @lacilou
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harrywavycurly · 2 months
Note
omg if your killer!Eddie requests are open, could you write one similar to 'how long?' where r stays up late when he goes out for you know what and when he comes back, he's kinda shocked to see her up and she asks what's going on?? he'll probably find some sneaky way out of it but I'm wondering what you think ab the situation :)
Hiii lovey!! Oh I love this because we know Eddie loves being able to look down at his watch and know what his wife is doing so I can imagine the look of pure shock when he comes home late and she’s awake! I hope you enjoy this!!💖
-find all things a Killer’s Love here✨
CW: Eddie is a serial killer, mentions of blood
A/N: I didn’t have it in me to make this angsty so it’s kinda fluffy but still gets the point across that even Eddie with his killer instincts can be taken off guard🙈
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Eddie lets out a loud sigh as he takes his keys out of the ignition after he pulls into the garage, he rests his forehead on the steering wheel as he closes his eyes allowing the events of the evening to replay in his mind. James was supposed to be an easy task, it was supposed to be an in and out job but somehow it ended up with Eddie not only digging multiple holes in Hawkins’s oldest cemetery just to dispose of the man’s body but he also had to get rid of his new pair of boots thanks to the fact James was a bleeder, another thing Eddie wasn’t really prepared for. When he opens his eyes he smiles as he looks down at his watch and sees the time, it’s well past midnight so Eddie knows you’re snuggled up in bed asleep waiting for him. He quickly grabs his duffle bag and tries to be as quiet as possible when he goes into the house, taking his old beat up boots off by the door.
“Eddie?” He freezes when he hears your sweet soft voice coming from the kitchen. “Honey is that you?” You ask as you poke your head out of the kitchen and into the living room just in time to see him putting his truck keys into the little bowl on the table by the door.
“Did I wake you sweetheart?” He tries to hide the panic in his voice as he slowly uses his foot to slide his duffle bag behind the couch so you can’t see it in the dark living room. “I tried to be quiet.” He adds as he takes a few steps closer to where you’re standing in the doorway of the kitchen.
“I haven’t been to bed yet.” Eddie feels his eyebrow raise at your statement because he can count on one hand the amount of times you’ve stayed up this late and most of them involve him and you in your king sized bed. “Why are you all disheveled?” You ask as he finally is just a few steps away from you allowing the kitchen light to let you get a better look at him.
“You know how poker night goes baby.” You just smile as Eddie’s hands land on your hips before he leans in and places a quick kiss to your lips.
“Steve get a bit rowdy again?” You ask when he pulls away, Eddie just nods before placing a sweet kiss to your forehead.
“Someone needed to teach him some manners.” You laugh as Eddie gives your hips a little squeeze. “Now what’s keeping you up hmm? Something bothering you Princess?” He asks making you just shrug as his hands fall from your hips so you can turn and he can follow you into the kitchen. He looks around and can tell by the bottle of honey and some lemon slices on the counter that you were in the middle of making yourself some tea so he quickly grabs the electric kettle and begins filling it with water as you go sit on one of the barstools.
“I think I just missed my husband.” Eddie smiles as he looks over at you as he turns the kettle on. You return his smile and shoot him a playful wink making him chuckle.
“I’m sorry baby I didn’t mean to be out so late.” It’s not a lie so Eddie doesn’t feel that bad for saying it, he had every intention of being home and in bed with you well before midnight but then again tonight hasn’t gone the way Eddie had planned.
“It’s okay you deserve to have a guys night every now and then.” Eddie ignores the guilt that tries to take over as you give him a reassuring smile. He just busies himself with adding some honey to the bottom of one of your favorite mugs before placing the sleepy time tea bag inside.
“I missed you too.” He states as the kettle turns off letting him know the water is ready for him to pour into your mug. You smile as he walks around the island and places the mug in front of you.
“Did you really?” You ask in your sweet shy tone that makes Eddie’s knees go a little bit weak. Eddie just stands behind you and gently places his hands on top of your shoulders as he leans down so his lips are right next to your ear.
“From the moment I left the driveway.” You smile at his words and then feel a chill go down your spine as his lips place a kiss under your ear.
“I love you.” Eddie just smiles as he stands up after kissing your cheek and drops his hands from your shoulders.
“I love you too baby.” He watches you reach for your mug but he’s quick to grab it from over your shoulder making you playfully frown at him. “You’ll burn yourself sweetheart…come on let’s get you into bed and by then it’ll be the perfect for drinking.” You just let out a tired sigh as you get off the barstool and take his free hand so he can lead you into the bedroom.
“Where are you going?” Your voice is sleepy and slow as you watch Eddie head for the bedroom door after he got you comfortable on your side of the bed with your tea in your hands.
“Just checking the locks and cleaning the kitchen baby don’t worry I’ll be back before you fall asleep.” Eddie watches you just nod your head and he’s well aware that you know he’s lying because both of you know you’re about two sips of your tea away from passing out but you don’t argue with him and for that he’s grateful.
When he’s in the living room he quietly grabs his duffle bag and takes it into the kitchen so he can shove it back under the sink where he normally keeps it hidden under trash bags and cleaning supplies. He grips the sink as he closes his eyes and lets out a few deep breathes trying to get his nerves to settle because from the moment he left the house early this evening till just now he’s been on edge because nothing has gone as planned. But he also can’t help but chuckle to himself as he opens his eyes and shakes his head at the fact that even after years of marriage you still somehow manage to surprise him.
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hi!! just read both of your wrecker works and rineicbeijcwjkdjs LOVED THEM!! wrecker’s my fav of tbb and i really feel like he needs more love😭 i'm gonna be checking out some of your other works later lol
anyways i saw that you were taking requests, so i went through your prompt list and saw two that caught my eye. they're 24. “You need to wake up because I can't do this without you.” and 18. “I almost lost you.”
i was wondering if you could write something with those prompts for wrecker please? like tbb + reader were able to rescue omega, crosshair, and tech (i am believer in tech surviving season 2 finale), but the reader got seriously injured during the rescue and is now in a coma. wrecker would be the one to say the prompts and it would be angsty like wrecker thinking the reader might die. but please let this end happily.
other than those details i trust your writing skills and process for anything! take your time writing, there's absolutely no rush!! and again your writing is soooo awesome!!😊😊
Well hello there!
I'm so glad you enjoyed those fics, and thank you for popping this request in - so sorry it's taken me so long to write it! I had a lot of fun with this one, and I hope it hits the spot 😁
I guess it's also technically canon divergent now S3 is out, haha 😅
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Through the Darkness
No one said rescuing the rest of the Batch from Mount Tantiss would be easy - you just didn't expect it to go like this.
Pairing: Wrecker x F!reader
Word count: 2.7k
Warnings: canon typical violence, reader in a coma for a bit, little bit of angst, but also dashes of hope, happily ever after.
Translations: sarad - flower
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Hemlock has his hands on you, his blaster pressed to your temple. The sounds of fighting cease. Dead TK Troopers litter the floor. Wrecker and his siblings freeze, slowly lowering their weapons.
Your back is pressed to Hemlock’s chest, and there isn’t a clean shot at him.
“Anyone moves and your dear liaison will pay the price,” Hemlock states.
Rage flows through Wrecker. You were in danger, too far for him to grab and shield, and he had no idea what to do. He glances at his siblings – Omega curled against Hunter’s side with weariness painted on her face, Tech leaning heavily against Echo for support as his body protests the prolonged time standing. Crosshair had peeled off from the group earlier, searching for what or who none of them was sure. They were all back together again. A family again. He wasn’t about to let Hemlock take you from them.
Shakes start in your thighs, slowly creeping up your body until your arms and hands tremble, too. You’ve been in dangerous situations before, had your life threatened before - but you’re certain Hemlock would do it. The man is crazy and will stop at nothing to get his hands on your family. The sound of his verbal back and forth with Hunter is like white noise.
The slightest movement in the rafters above catches your attention, and your eyes dart up. Battered and bruised, Crosshair has found a vantage point and a rifle. Those hawkish eyes meet yours, and a silent conversation is shared. You do the maths. There’s only one way out of this. Thank the Maker you still trust him, even after everything.
You give an almost imperceivable nod, knowing he’ll catch it. You flick your gaze to the others, taking one last look, just in case. Echo, who’d joined you all near the end of the war and had so seamlessly slipped into the fold of your family. Tech, worse for wear after his fall on Eriadu, but with that same solid determination in his eyes. Hunter, the man who’d welcomed you into the squad all those years ago, listened when you shared your thoughts and didn’t make a fuss when you broke terrible news to them about the next mission. Omega, trying to hide her fear through bravery – so much for a young girl with such a pure heart to endure. And Wrecker, the imposing force of a man who’d always put himself between you and danger, who reached for you at every opportunity and consoled you when things had gotten too much – the man you’d quietly loved for some time.
With a shaky breath, you close your eyes, placing all your faith in Crosshair. The quiet sniper who’d at first sneered at you and flicked toothpicks in your face before he’d thawed out and helped perfect your aim, taught you how to use his rifle, and what to look out for when scouting.
The sound of his shot reverberates around the hanger, and milliseconds later, searing pain tears through your shoulder, pulling a piercing cry from your lips. Legs giving out, you crumple, welcoming the cold durasteel you hit.
You don’t know if they all made it out, but you pray they did.
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Wrecker hasn’t moved in weeks, refusing to leave you alone. The memory of you being shot won’t leave him; the sound of your agony is stuck on repeat. You’d been in bacta for what felt like forever, the shiny skin on your shoulder a testament to its healing power, but it wasn’t enough to wake you from the coma you’d slipped into. Pabu’s only Doctor had insisted on removing you from the tank once your physical wounds had healed, transferring you to a standard medical bed.
Crosshair’s shot had torn through your shoulder, but the angle had been perfect. Wrecker hadn’t expected any less from his little brother. The bolt had exited you and entered Hemlock, hitting him straight in the chest. A kill shot. That hadn’t killed you. Or so Wrecker hoped. Even if you woke, your shoulder would likely ache for the rest of your life, and your arm would not be as strong as before.
The sound of the door opening pulls Wrecker’s gaze from your prone form and across the small room in Pabu’s clinic. Crosshair slides through the crack in the door, thin lips pressed together, brow pinched. He visits often, guilt in his eyes every time he looks you over. You might’ve okayed the shot, but it still tore at the sniper’s soul to have hurt you.
“Nothing?” Crosshair rasps, sticking close to the door as he glances between you and his brother. He’d never admit it, but fear was starting to settle in his gut. If you didn’t wake…
“Nothin’.” Wrecker confirms, shoulders slumped. “Been talkin’ to her. Doc said she might be able to hear us. Not that it’s doin’ much good.” He sighs, gaze shifting back to you. “Told her we all got out okay. That you and Tech and the kid are alright. Don’t want her worryin’.”  
Crosshair makes a slight noise, acknowledging his brother’s words as his gaze lingers on your prone form.
“You stayin’ a bit?” Wrecker asks, using one foot to push out the spare chair at his side – the rest of their siblings often visited, too.
Hesitating, Crosshair lets out a small sigh as he moves across the room, lowering himself silently into the chair. He hadn’t stayed before, preferring to flit in for any news before disappearing. It hurt too much to see you this way, knowing he’d caused it. That and he was still working through everything that had happened during his time with the Empire, trying to fix his relationships with his siblings. But Wrecker needed him, so he’d stay.
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You’d always hated the dark.
The shadows surround you, pressing in from all sides. Yet amidst the inky darkness, you find yourself standing in a solitary spot of light, its glow offering a semblance of warmth amidst the chill of the void. The lights kept appearing, and you’d learned quickly that when a new one glistened on the horizon, you had to run for it before the light you were already standing in disappeared. 
You’d lost track of how many lights you’d chased so far. 
Each one varied in intensity – sometimes brilliant beacons, other times mere flickers barely piercing the gloom. Yet, regardless of their brightness, they all held a magnetic pull, drawing you forward with an unyielding force. And each time you reached one, a brief respite washed over you, a fleeting moment before the next journey into the unknown began.
Scanning the horizon, you spot another light starting to beckon, its faint glow a promise of safety. With a heavy heart, you know what you need to do.
Taking a deep breath, you burst into a sprint. Each step forward is a battle against the darkness, its tendrils reaching out like icy fingers, eager to drag you into its embrace. Goosebumps prickle your arms, heart pounding as fear gnaws at your insides, but a stubborn determination fuels your movements. You can’t afford to falter, to succumb to the darkness, not after everything.
Worry lingers at the edge of your consciousness, a constant reminder of uncertainty. What lay beyond the lights? Will you ever find your way back to the world you once knew? The questions taunt you, echoing in your mind relentlessly the longer you spend here.
Yet, a glimmer of hope remains amidst the fear and uncertainty. Though the darkness threatens to overwhelm you, there must be a reason for the light. There has to be something causing it. Blessing you with it. Giving you these small moments of respite and keeping you in one piece. 
You keep going. One foot in front of the other.
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A shove yanks Wrecker out of sleep, and the big man jolts awake with a small yelp.
Crosshair snickers, leaning back in his seat, drawing his hand back towards his chest. “Sleeping on the job, vod.” He can’t help but jibe, his smirk melting into a frown at the sound of Wrecker’s stomach growling. “When’s the last time you ate?” He asks. He hadn’t wanted to wake him, seeing him finally getting some rest, but the sun was high in the sky now, and Crosshair knew it wouldn’t be long until Omega and Hunter swung by.
Blinking, Wrecker’s mind takes a moment to catch up with the fact he’s awake. “Urm, yesterday? Maybe?” He guesses, not really sure. The days were starting to blend together.
With a huff, Crosshair stands, long legs unfolding. “Will get you something. Can’t wither away before she wakes.” He mutters, grateful for the opportunity to leave and not have to sit any longer in silence with his feelings – he’d done enough of that for the day.
With a slight nod of appreciation, Wrecker watches as Crosshair heads out the door, hearing the gentle click of it shutting behind him. Hand wiping over his face, Wrecker shifts in the chair, stretching a little. But he can’t avoid the inevitable forever, and although it pains him, he looks you over for what feels like the millionth time. 
Despite his imposing stature, he feels powerless.
He hadn’t been able to protect you - the woman he loves. He’s loved you since the moment he first met you in the hanger of a Venator, as you’d been assigned to him and his brothers as their liaison. You’d offered them a smile that had rendered him speechless, and his booming laughter had then filled the hanger when you’d quipped back at Crosshair as he'd sneered about them not needing a babysitter.
You kept them on their toes and blended in so seamlessly with their chaotic lives.
Without an audience, Wrecker clears his throat, leaning forward in his seat to gently take your tiny hand in his much larger one. “I hope ya can hear me, sarad.” He starts, voice mellow. “Been a few weeks now since we got ’em back.” He’s not sure how much you’re aware of, if the passing of time is something you’re experiencing. “Cross was just here. Finally sat for a bit. Think he feels guilty.” Wrecker pauses, brows furrowing, face pinching. “I feel guilty. Should have protected ya, kept ya close.” Wrecker’s voice cracks a little, emotion seeping through. 
“We’re all here, though. Ain’t leavin’ ya, no matter what. Can’t wait for ya to wake up and tell us all how much trouble we’re in.” He chuckles softly, a hint of sadness in the sound. “Just...ya need to wake up ’cause I can’t do this without you.” He admits, a well of emotion pressing down on his chest.
Wrecker’s words hang heavy in the air, the weight of his emotions palpable even in the silence of the clinic. He wishes he could shake this feeling of helplessness and do more than just sit by your side, waiting for a sign of life. But for now, all he can offer is his unwavering presence and a steady stream of conversation, hoping against hope that somewhere within your subconscious, you can hear him.
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Keep going. You need to keep going.
The darkness claws at you, desperate to slow you down and draw you into its embrace. But the light grows closer with every step you take, with every thud of your heart as you race forward. Amidst your footsteps echoing in the void is the faintest whisper of something familiar.
No.
Not something.
Someone.
“Wreck!” You cry out into the darkness, feet faltering for a second as you recognise the deep voice. The darkness tries to take advantage of your momentary hiccup, but with a yelp, you pick up your pace. The hope that lingers in your heart explodes. As you draw closer to the light, Wrecker’s voice comes into focus. “Ain’t leavin’ ya, no matter what.”
With renewed determination, you push yourself harder, every muscle in your body screaming for rest, but you refuse to give in. The light grows brighter, its warmth now palpable against your skin.
And then, just as you’re on the verge of stepping into the light, a sudden force knocks you off balance, sending you sprawling onto the cold, hard ground. Panic grips your chest as you scramble, desperate to continue your pursuit.
But the darkness has other plans, closing in around you like a suffocating blanket, obscuring the light. Amidst the coldness creeping through your body, you cling to the memory of Wrecker’s voice, a lifeline in the darkness.
Body straining, you crawl forward, ignoring the pain and exhaustion, determination burning bright within you. You don’t belong in the darkness. You belong in the light. With them. With him.
Straining, you reach out an arm, trembling fingers skimming the edge of the light as Wrecker’s voice comes through loud and clear. “…ya need to wake up ’cause I can’t do this without you.”
The darkness recoils. 
With a final surge of strength, you propel yourself forward, breaking free from the suffocating grip of the void. The light envelops you, wrapping you in its warm embrace as the shadows recede into the distance, getting further and further away. Relief floods through you, tears of joy mingling with sweat on your cheeks.
Head tilting back, you look up at the light, a bubble of laughter escaping as you bask in the glow. Eyes fluttering shut, you savour the moment. Yet this time, when you open your eyes, there’s no darkness or blinding light anymore. 
You blink. Once. Twice. The soft hum of medical equipment fills the air. And there, beside you, is Wrecker, head bowed, the weight of his hand wrapped around yours. 
Everything seems to freeze except the frantic thudding of your heart. “Wreck…” You whisper, your voice hoarse from disuse as you dare to hope you’re back. Really back. 
Wrecker’s head jolts up at the rasped sound of his name, his good eye widening as he meets your gaze, your name falling from his lips as his features crumple, a heaving sob of relief escaping him.
You slowly sit up, wincing at the ache that shoots through your shoulder. It’s still tender, but the pain is nothing compared to the overwhelming flood of emotions that wash over you at the sight of Wrecker’s tear-streaked face. 
You reach out, cupping his cheek in your hand, the warmth of his skin grounding you in reality. “I’m here.” You murmur softly, your voice barely above a whisper, unsure if you’re trying to convince yourself or him.
Wrecker’s grip tightens around your hand as if afraid you might slip away again if he lets go. He leans into your touch, his words catching in his throat momentarily before he stands, leaning over the bed to envelop you in an embrace, protective yet gentle, conscious of your shoulder. “You’re back.” He murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “Thought I almost lost ya.”
Weak but grateful, you return his embrace, feeling the warmth of his presence washing over you, grounding you in reality. A lump forms in your throat at the thought of him worrying about you, thinking he would lose you. “Not going anywhere, big guy.” You reassure him, sniffling as you try to keep a lid on your emotions. “The others?” You ask cautiously, dread curling in your gut. 
“All made it,” Wrecker confirms, arms slowly uncurling from around you as he sits back in his chair, hand scooping up yours so he can maintain some contact. 
Your dread is swept away and replaced immediately by relief; this time, you don’t bother holding back your sobs.
“No cryin’, pretty girl. Please.” Wrecker’s heart aches at the sight, his free hand moving to cup your face and wipe away the tears.
You smile through your tears, overwhelmed by the flood of emotions. Wrecker’s touch is like a lifeline. “Sorry.” You manage to choke out between sobs, trying to reign in your feelings. “Just...so relieved.”
Wrecker offers you a tender smile. “No need to apologise, sarad,” he murmurs softly, his voice filled with warmth and reassurance. A bolt of courage has him leaning forward to gently kiss your forehead.
As Wrecker’s lips meet your forehead, warmth seeps through you, chasing away the last remnants of the dark coldness. He pulls back a little, his gaze meeting yours, and the air feels electric. Without a word, you lean forward, closing the distance between you as your lips finally meet his in a soft, tentative kiss. 
And you realize that amidst the chaos and darkness, love has always been the guiding light, leading you back to where you belong.
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Tag list: @clonethirstingisreal @starrylothcat @cw80831 @dreamie411 @issa-me-bry-blog @leftealeaf @isaidonyourknees
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cowboydisaster · 9 months
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reader dying in Simon's arms... med evac being too late... Simon in denial?
i like to cause pain 🫡
nonny... you are a little torturer, but I'm here for it. I actually wrote this a bit ago, but tweaked it b/c it was very similar to this prompt. Anyhow, enjoy you little angst-lover!
Fine Line
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pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader word count: 1.7k a/n: reader goes by callsign: Red. Also, this is like-- super angsty. I'm SORRY. I'll make it up to you later I promise. xx warnings: death, reader death, blood, gore? i think thats the word im looking for, denial, trauma, hurt/no comfort. masterlist
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It doesn’t look good.
You hold your palm over your torso, pulling it away to look down at the ruby colored liquid that is coating your hands. It’s sort of beautiful, you think, oddly. Like rose petal after rose petal spilling out from your wounds, coating your being in its own life sustaining substance. It hurts, an unrelenting burn radiating throughout your body, causing you to tremor uncontrollably. You’ve seen death plenty. You’ve been the hand of it, and now you’re the victim. Funny how things come full circle like that. 
Bodies lie around the room you occupy, already having suffered the same fate that you’re about to. You’d succeeded in clearing the room. Ah, but the closet. You’d missed it. A simple mistake, and it would cost you your life. You managed to take out the enemy, but not before he pressed his damning shotgun against your stomach, not before he’d pulled the trigger. 
Your breathing is shallow, the puffs of air are visible in the cool air, and they shrink smaller as an overwhelming cold begins to creep around your lungs. Ice wraps around your frame like an old friend, like a lover. 
“Red, how copy?” 
You glance down at your radio, a bittersweet smile gracing your lips at the familiar voice. Simon. Oh, how you love him. 
“Fuck, sergeant. How copy? I heard shots.” Simon says again, this time harsher. You’ll miss his voice, his touch, his eyes. You hope that in some way, after you’re gone, he’ll be with you.
His voice soothes you, your heart skipping a beat even as it slowly gives up, unable to carry the burden of keeping you alive for much longer. Blood trickles down your body like vines, wrapping around your arms and holding you heavy to the ground. You hope they’ll plant roses on your grave. 
 Slippery fingers press down on the comms button, trembling and soaked with crimson. 
“I’m here, Ghost… I’m here.” You say into your comms. Your voice is barely a whisper, nothing more than a wisp. You used to be so bubbly, the loudest in the room. Your voice is foreign in your ears as the soft, comforting hands of death steal your air away from you, unwilling to compromise. Not this time. 
“I'm coming, Red. Fuck, I’m on my way, love. I’ll be right there. Just hang on.” Simon pleads. You can hear his heavy breathing through the comms, swallowed by the panic in his voice. He sounds scared, terrified. It contrasts how you feel. Death has never been peaceful. Not when you watched teammates die on the field, not even when you killed. But this, being on the fine line of life and death? It’s peaceful. Death is quiet, it’s numb. Living. That’s the hard part. Fighting. Surviving. 
Your eyes flicker to the door as Simon kicks it clean in. Your love enters the room quickly. You hate seeing him so worried, you’d take it away if you could. You’d carry the burden to ease the weight on his shoulders. 
“Red!” Simon yells, running towards you and sliding to his knees on the ground beside you. His eyes scan over your wound, refusing to acknowledge the warm, red liquid that pools around you. He’s had a lot of blood on his hands, but never yours. Never. 
Big hands push against your torso, attempting to stop the inevitable seeping of blood from your broken and battered body. It’s no use. Your time is up. The blood that Simon so desperately tries to stop from flowing has already been used to sign your life away. 
“Price. I need a medevac, now!” Simon screams into his radio, the desperation is thick in his voice. His hands on your body hurt you, pushing against wounds that you know will never be sealed again. You groan uncomfortably as he attempts to force the life back into you. 
“You’ll be just fine, baby. Just fine. Hang on for me, yeah? I’ll get you out of here.” Simon rambles. 
“Simon, stop.” You whisper, hand weakly covering his. He shakes his head, unbelieving that this is happening. It can’t be. He’s lost everything. He can’t lose you too. Anything, anyone but you. He’s not strong enough. His skeleton gloves are painted red, like the rose petals, the blood, seeping from your mouth and your body. He pushes harder, noises of anguish escaping from his throat. A tear slips down your cheek, the liquid mixing in with the blood. 
“Simon, stop.” You plead. He shakes his head. 
“I won’t let you die out here.” He says, frantic, hands putting pressure on your wounds. 
“It’s too late and you know it. Please. It hurts, Simon.” You whisper, head lolling back against the wall, “Just hold me… please.”
Simon hesitates. Everything in his being is screaming at him to fix you, to make a futile attempt to heal your wounds. But how can he deny you? He doesn’t move, but your hand squeezes his and he gives in to the weak gesture. His back slumps against the wall beside you, and he scoops you into his warm arms.
You were wrong. Death isn’t peace, his arms are. You smile weakly, curling into his chest as the life seeps out from your very pores. 
“I can’t lose you, Red. Not you. Medevac’s almost here. You’ve got to hang on for just a bit, yeah?” Simon says, eyes darting around the room before they land on you again. There’s so much blood, too much blood. It covers you and him. He knows that no matter how hard he scrubs, it won’t ever come out. It’s etched into his very being, stained forever.
He’ll have to burn his clothes.
For his sake, you nod, though you know it’s a lie. 
“They’ll get here in time. They will.” Simon nods to himself, attempting to convince himself that you’ll be okay. 
He rocks you lightly, tears slipping down his cheeks and wetting his balaclava. His brown eyes are stained red from tears. The pain in your torso begins to dissipate, a searing burn turning to a dull ache. An overwhelming numbness begins to spread from the tips of your fingertips, spreading through you like clover. It covers you, a peaceful escape from the constant pain. You realize that time is slipping through your fingers, and no matter how much you try, it will continue to fall. 
“I love you, Simon.” You whisper, voice barely a puff of air. You need him to hear it, just one last time. You don’t ever want him to forget. Simon shakes his head. 
“You’re gonna be okay. Don’t– don’t say that. You’ll be just fine, love. You can tell me how much you love me when you’re safe at the base.” He stumbles over his words, begging to wake up from this nightmare and be in bed next to you. 
“Say it back or you’ll regret it.” You whisper, knowing he’ll beat himself up for the rest of his life if he doesn’t repeat those familiar words to you just one last time.
“I’ll tell you when we get home. You’re not going to die out here.” His resolve is strong. Denial. A cold, bloody hand comes up to rest on his cheek, leaving a bloody handprint as you cup his masked face. 
“I want to–” You gasp for breath, a wheeze that Simon won’t ever unhear for the rest of his life– “I want to hear it one last time.” You smile weakly, eyes locked onto his large brown irises. They are brimming with tears that you’ve never seen fall from his eyes. 
“I love you.” He whispers, shakily. “Love you so much, my Red.”
“Thank you, Simon.” You whisper, “For everything.” 
Your eyes are tired, and they slip shut to unburden themselves from staying open. Simon rocks you as his warm tears drip down onto your hair. A kiss is pressed to your hair, your forehead, your cheek. A sound of anguish, of raw pain shreds through the room. You can’t bring yourself to react.
It’s like falling asleep, lulled into a blissful slumber by the man you love. It’s peaceful. Simon’s warmth fades away from you, replaced by a cold that wraps around your heart and your lungs. The icy compression squeezes the last ounce of life from your being, and the rose petals stop falling. 
Captain Price rushes into the room, Gaz and Soap on his six. His feet stop once he lays eyes on the scene in front of him. Ghost rocks you gently, eyes frantic, full of a pain and fear that Price has never seen in the stone-cold man’s eyes. 
“Where’s the heli? You’ve got to help her!” Simon yells angrily at the three men. Soap backs up slightly, a few tears brimming in his eyes. 
“Price!” Simon screams, his voice raw. He doesn't understand why no one is reacting, why no one is helping. He stands up from the floor, cradling you in his arms tightly. Your head is lulled back unnaturally, your hair cascading towards the floor.
"Simon…" Price whispers, taking a few steps towards you both. 
"You've got to help her! Fucking hell, Price! Please!" Simon roars. His arms are trembling. His eyes are stained red with tears. 
"Simon… she isn't breathing." Price whispers, his own tears coming to the surface as he looks over your lifeless body. You're unmoving, forever still and cold in Simon's arms. 
“She’s alive–” Simon shakes his head, refusing to face the truth, “She’s alive, we just have to get her into the heli!”
“Simon…” Price whispers again, “She’s already gone.”
“You have to help her, Price. Fucking hell, please– Soap, Gaz, anybody please. Fuck!”
Death had already passed through, carried you away as red dripped down from the very being of your soul. 
You're grateful to not be able to hear Simon's screams.
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bellaxgiornata · 6 months
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Falling For the Devil [Part ninety-one: "The Hepling Hand"]
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.7k
Summary: You worry Matt has been injured when you realize he didn't wake you after returning home for the evening.
Or You offer Matt a helping hand to relax in the shower.
[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock. You can find the entire list of installments here.]
Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut, violence
a/n: This one took me a bit to get edited but it's finally here! Enjoy the slight angsty hints and the smut. Feedback is always appreciated!
Tag List: @ninacotte @mattkinsella @stilldreaming666 @murdocksclient @madscamp02 @1988-fiend @linamarr @pinkratts @schneeflocky @acharliecoxedfan @yarrystyleeza @theetherealbloom @danzer8705 @lionalsowrites @harperdoodle @kmc1989 @lunaticgurly @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @pazii
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"Mmmph," you groaned out, face half-buried in a pillow.
The sound of the shower running down the hall quickly reached your ears over the soft chatter on the television nearby. Slowly stirring awake on the couch, you were vaguely aware of Mittens laying stretched along the length of you. He let out a faint mew of protest when you shifted again, your leg nudging him. But as you gradually woke up, you were becoming more aware of the fact that Matt had returned home and hadn't woken you from your place on the couch. Usually he did before he even changed out of his suit, especially because he knew you were often curled up here with Mittens waiting for him to return home.
Pushing yourself upright on the couch, you maneuvered your legs around Mittens who curled tight into a ball as you moved, clearly not interested in waking up with you. Placing your feet onto the floor, you rubbed a hand over your tired eyes as you tried to further wake up. You’d had a long day at the office and had been worn out when you'd finally gotten home, but you always refused to go to bed until Matt came home and snuggled up beside you under the sheets. You always had to know he'd returned to you safe and sound or you wouldn't be able to truly sleep for the night–which was why Matt often found you waiting on the couch for him. 
Turning off the television and rising from the couch, you shuffled your way down the short hallway and towards the bathroom, the sound of running water growing louder as you neared it. Matt didn't usually shower after a night out as the Devil unless something was wrong or he'd been injured, and the fact that he’d come home without waking you before he showered only had worry further churning in your stomach. You hoped it was just that he was stressed and not because he was covered in his own blood.
Opening the bathroom door, you stepped inside and flipped on the light. Through the steamed up glass of the shower door you saw Matt's head turn in your direction, probably noticing your presence and hearing the sudden hum of the light bulbs.
"Matty?" you called out. "Are you okay? You didn't wake me when you got home."
"I'm fine, sweetheart," Matt called back. 
You frowned at the sound of his voice. He sounded exhausted and more worn out than usual and that only increased your concern for him. Stepping further into the bathroom, you pulled your shirt overhead without a moment's hesitation. After tossing it onto the floor, you began to slip out of your sweatpants and underwear, dropping them to the bathroom floor next. Reaching a hand out, you slid the shower door open as steam immediately wafted out towards you.
Matt's head turned in your direction once again, the spray of the shower running in rivulets down his hair and his face. Your eyes openly surveyed him as you stood there, scanning him over for injuries. He had a few bruises on his body and a cut along his lip, which was more than he usually came home with when he was out in that red suit, but otherwise he seemed alright. Though that didn't stop you from wincing at the sight, knowing he must have been sore and miserable.
Wordlessly you stepped into the shower with him, noticing how Matt didn't move as you closed the door behind yourself. He remained facing the front of the shower, silently letting the water cascade down his body. Something seemed off with his mood, you could just feel it in the way he was hunched forward on himself, his shoulders tensed up beside his neck. He hadn't made a comment about you joining him, either. 
Making your way behind him, you gently wrapped your arms around his waist and pulled your naked front to his naked back until you were flush against him. Turning your head, you pressed your cheek against his warm, damp skin and closed your eyes, letting the water softly fall over you both. One of Matt's hands wrapped over the top of yours, holding it lightly. 
"You sure you're alright?" you asked him. "You seem awfully quiet, Matt.”
“Just a rough night, sweetheart,” he muttered. “I’m fine, I promise.”
“You’re hurt,” you pointed out. “There’s bruises and a cut on your lip. What happened?”
Matt sighed, his hand brushing back and forth along your forearm affectionately, but the gesture felt tired in itself. Brows knitting together, a frown tugged at your lips once more. Something was definitely going on with him.
“Some things…happened tonight. And they got out of hand for a bit because of–” he broke off, his muscles tensing in your embrace so noticeably that your eyes flew open, “– someone .”
Shifting your head along his back, you glanced up at what you could see of his face. His head was half turned back towards you, the muscle jumping in his cheek in obvious irritation. Whoever this someone was had clearly gotten under his skin tonight.
“What?” you asked curiously. "What got out of hand?"
Matt huffed out an annoyed breath, shaking his head. His hand lightly patted your arm as he spoke. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. There's just someone from my past that I…thought was gone. Now they’re back and I’m…not exactly thrilled .”
“Who are–”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said, cutting you off. “We’ve come to an agreement. Hopefully. I’m just frustrated, that’s all. Didn’t want to wake you when I came in because I was hoping to calm down first.”
Drawing yourself away from his back a bit, you studied the hunch of his shoulders and the tension in his back muscles. Gradually your hands slid upwards, moving along the hard plane of his soaked, broad chest. Chewing the inside of your cheek, you admittedly wanted to know more about what had happened tonight–wanted to know who had shown up from his past. Because this wasn't a mood you'd ever seen Matt in after doing one of his patrols. This was different. He seemed entirely drained after dealing with whoever it was he had encountered. 
As you stood there studying the back of Matt, your hands absently tracing patterns along the warm, wet skin of his chest, a thought crossed your mind. Something you figured might help turn his night around, or at the very least, relieve some of the obvious tension in his body. 
“Do you…want me to help you relax?” you asked softly.
Matt’s head tilted further towards you over his shoulder, his eyes tightening. “What?” he asked.
You shrugged lightly behind him. "You seem frustrated and tense. I was wondering if I could help you relax a little."
There was a long pause after you'd spoken, the sound of the water hitting the shower tiles loud in the silence between you both. For quite a few seconds he'd stood there motionless, somewhat still focused on you over his shoulder. You were beginning to think he was going to flat out refuse you before he finally broke the quiet.
"What'd you have in mind?" he asked. 
Smiling slightly, you turned your attention to his back before you. Leaning forward, you gently pressed your lips to his warm skin. Immediately he sucked in a breath as your lips lingered on him, his muscle twitching beneath your mouth. Gradually your lips slid up, beginning to trail a line of soft kisses up the length of his back, right along the column of his spine. You felt the way he shuddered in your arms, your hands continuing to lightly trace their way around his chest as your lips moved. Though when the pad of your index finger brushed over his nipple, you heard the deep moan that rumbled out of him. 
Your mouth paused at the beautiful sound, lingering against his skin just along his spine. Your smile widened along him as you dragged your hand back, your finger grazing his nipple again. Matt sucked in a sharp breath in response, his hips slightly jerking forward when the pad of your finger circled the stiff peak.
"That feel good?" you whispered against his skin.
"Everything you're doing right now does," he whispered back. "You always feel so good."
Turning your attention back to him, you placed another soft kiss along his back before you lightly nipped at the muscle beside his shoulder blade. Matt gasped, his hands flying forward and landing flat on the tile wall before him as if he needed to hold himself upright. As you continued to lightly nip at his skin, you began to slide your hands leisurely down the front of Matt’s body, feeling every dip of his toned muscles. You carefully dragged your nails along his skin as your hands moved, enjoying every twitch of his muscles beneath your touch as it traveled ever downwards. 
"Oh, sweetheart ," he breathed out. 
Pressing the front of yourself further to the back of Matt, both of your hands stopped their descent at the base of his cock. Slowly your fingers drew circles in the trimmed, dark hair there, your hands occasionally brushing against him. You quickly became aware that he was growing hard just at the anticipation of your touch.
"You do so much for this city, Matty," you whispered, planting another kiss along his back and hearing the way he whimpered. "You do so much for me," you continued, tongue slipping out before delicately running over the line of his shoulder blade. Your hands slid upwards, tracing their way along his hip bones. "Always so selfless and hard working." 
Matt let out a whine, his fingers digging into the tile wall as the warm spray of water continued to pour over you both. A tinge of pride grew in you at still being able to have such an effect on him, at drawing forth those little breathy, needy whines that you loved whenever he made them. At how much he already seemed to be struggling to keep himself together. 
"You deserve to be taken care of," you murmured. "Let me take care of you tonight."
"Always so–so good to me," he stammered breathlessly. 
Hands sliding down, you ran them over the front of his thick thighs. You felt the shiver that ran up his body as your fingers tenderly massaged the large muscles of his legs, your fingers tangling in the dark little hairs covering them.
"Because I love you, Matt," you told him. 
His head fell back over his shoulders at your voice, his eyes clamped shut. His teeth were clearly grit together as you finally dragged your right hand up towards the base of his cock.
" Fuck ," he ground out. "I love you so much, sweetheart."
His hips gave a jolt as you curled your hand around the base of him firmly, a deep rumbling  moan tumbling out of his mouth. Grinning at how hard he already was, your other hand gently raked your nails up his thick left thigh through the dark, damp hair covering it. You could feel the way his hips twitched in response, struggling to remain still. 
"I'll help you relax," you whispered. "Don't worry, Matty."
Beginning to slide your hand along the length of his cock, your own eyelids fluttered at the delicious moan he loosed into the shower next. It sounded so damn good to your ears as you continued to stroke him, your other hand gradually making its way to cradle his balls. You couldn't help but feel a jolt of pleasure shoot through you in response to the faint sighs slipping out of him. 
"That's it, Matty," you praised him. "Let me take care of you tonight."
His breath audibly hitched at your voice, goosebumps rippling across his skin underneath your arms that were still wrapped around him. You could feel his body tensing against the front of yours as you continued to languidly stroke him in your hand. His obvious pleasure eased any worry you’d had from when you'd first stumbled on him for the moment as you focused once more on trailing kisses along his back. Matt moaned again, his hips jerking forward into your hand a few times.
Encouraged by his involuntary movements, your hand began to pump him faster. The sound of Matt’s sharp, panting breaths began to grow louder than the sound of the running water itself as you worked his eager cock in your hand. A soft moan left you as you became aware of every pulsing vein as you stroked him, your pace continuing to increase with the tempo of his breaths.
You could tell he was already growing close to his release by the noises he was soon making. The high pitched, desperate whimpers were a particularly favorite sound of yours. You knew it was because his cock always became quite sensitive when he was nearing his release, especially with those heightened senses of his. It was something you’d long since picked up on with him in the bedroom. You loved watching him like this because it wasn't often he let you solely give him pleasure. 
“Oh, fuck, that–that feels so good,” he ground out through what sounded like gritted teeth.
Without warning, Matt’s left hand flew back from off the wall and helplessly reached around, grabbing at your hip. You gasped in surprise at his rough touch, his blunt nails clawing at your skin. Though your hand didn’t cease its determined movements stroking his cock. A rumbling growl vibrated in Matt’s chest as you continued, one that you could feel with your chest still flush to his back. 
“So close,” he ground out, his hips jerking forwards more frantically into your hand as if he couldn't control it. “So– fucking –close.”
“That’s it, baby,” you whispered, your left hand releasing his balls and sliding all the way back up to brush back over his nipple. “Let go for me.”
He whined when the pad of your index finger began to circle the stiff peak of his nipple again, the sound causing your cunt to clench. His left hand that was on you abruptly slid further downwards, coming to firmly grip your ass instead of your hip. His nails dug deep into your soft flesh, his grip drawing your hips flush to his backside and almost rocking you with the motion of his own.
“Oh, God,” he breathed out, head once again rolling back over his shoulders. “I’m–”
He didn’t finish his sentence. Instead, you heard the deep, long throaty groan fly from his mouth and fill the shower while you felt the warm gush of his release coat your hand, dripping between your fingers. For a moment you continued to work him through it until you noticed the way his hips twitched in overstimulation. Placing one last kiss to his back, you unwrapped your arms from around his waist and rinsed your hand off in the spray.
You’d barely done much more than that before Matt turned on the spot, quickly enveloping you in his strong arms and burying his face into your hair. Careful of the bruises on his body, you slipped your arms around his waist and rested your head along his chest. His arms squeezed tight around you as he nuzzled his face further into your hair.
“I love you,” Matt murmured. “You know that, right?”
“Of course I do,” you answered, brows knitting together in confusion at his odd behavior this evening. “And I love you, too, Matt. Not a number far enough from one, right?”
He shifted above you, pressing his lips to the top of your head in a kiss. “Never a number far enough from one, sweetheart,” he whispered back before placing another soft, lingering kiss. “Always remember that. No matter what.”
Your eyes gradually fell closed in his warm embrace as you nodded, trying to relax in his arms. “I won't, Matty,” you assured him.
Though as you both held each other under the shower spray in silence, Matt still affectionately nuzzling his nose into your hair like he couldn't get enough of you, you were left wondering what had shaken him up so much this evening to act so out of the ordinary tonight. 
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wintfleur · 1 day
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omg heyyy, I’d love to read something of how they would react if Juliette, mat and Quinn are out on a date night, and then when they’re out they get swarmed by paps and they’re kind of taking up their personal space and Juliette starts getting anxious??🤍
ᥫ᭡ Lights, camera, acción!
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﹕─┈ pairings ( Mat barzal x Leclerc f1 driver oc! x Quinn Hughes )
°. — details ( g; angsty. w; angst, the paps being fucking creeps. Mentions of the paps trying to see under Julie’s dress. wc; 2.2k )
au masterlist - everything for the AU is under #🍂 ͡ ꒱ Juliette Leclerc
˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( hi lovely , tysm for sending in a request !! This is like the first fic I’ve really written for this au so I had so much fun !! So sorry it took so long to get out !! Hope you all enjoy it , and please let me know what you guys think !! )
˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( also !! I know this is a bit unrealistic because of the privacy laws and restrictions on professional photography in Monaco . . . but let’s just pretend those don’t exist for the sake of this fic please )
“We watched that last time” Quinn complained as he set down his glass of wine on the fine white tablecloth. The linen was so soft, softer than some blankets that he's slept on in the hotels he's stayed at, but he didn't expect anything less from the very nice restaurant Juliette had taken them too. 
He licked his lips, cleaning them of any remnants of the red wine that he knew wouldn't be able to pronounce correctly. What he did know was that his girlfriend sounded incredibly hot pronouncing it and he knew Mat felt the same way with how he bit his lip and adjusted in his seat, turning his attention towards the beautiful view of the sunset covered sky that they got from sitting on the patio. 
“So? Then we can watch the second one” Mat was quick to come up with a solution to their ongoing problem of picking a movie for tonight. Mat wanted to watch The Hangover again, Quinn didn't, and Julie was not going to get between them on this topic again. 
“What do you think sweetheart?” Mat turned his playful glare away from Quinn and to Juliette who had her elbow on the table, her chin in her palm as she watched the two playfully argue with a fond smile on her red lips, her own glass of wine long forgotten. 
“I think” Juliette leaned closer to the two as she spoke slowly, the chill air of Monaco giving her bare arms and legs goosebumps. She watched as both of their gazes fell to her cleavage, lingering on the necklace with their initials decorating her neck. She could tell by the way both of their breaths hitched that they thought she was going to turn there night towards a different direction. Julie gave them a teasing smirk as she continued “That I'm going to pick the movie tonight” 
“So, what you're saying is that we're watching twilight again?” Quinn teased with a smile as he leaned back in his chair, just itching to slip out of his whitebutton up shirt that Mat had picked out for him. Julie had a habit of watching the same group of movies depending on the time of the year and how she felt. And she was really feeling Edward Cullen as of late. 
“I'll even let you guys pick which one!” Julie giggled as she reached for her glass, taking a large sip of the expensive wine. Mat and Quinn could definitely tell that the wine was starting to get to her, she was far more giggly than usual. And with how she kept on nudging her stiletto foot against their leg, touchy as well. Two Telltale signs that she was tipsy. 
Mat and Quinn got lost in their own thoughts as they looked at their girlfriend who sat across from them, their thoughts very similar. Julie looked so ethereal under the fairy lights that hung across the patio, her smile and the look in her eyes were driving them crazy. They both desperately wanted to go home . . . or at least make it to the car. 
Quinn cleared his throat and turned the conversation into a different direction, he could see the look in Mat’s eyes, and they still had to wait for their desert to arrive, and mat wasn't one with patience. Julie slowly sipped on her wine as she listened to her boys talk, tilting her head to look out at the night sky with watchful eyes, just taking in the sweet moment of being with her lovers, in her home city. 
The sweet moment was ruined when she felt a cold chill run down her back, and it was like the calm air around them totally shifted into a tense and uncomfortable feeling. She felt like she was being watched. She looked back to Quinn and Mat who were smiling all lovey to each other, neither of them seems to have the same feeling she did. 
She sat up straight in her chair and quickly looked around the empty patio when she heard the subtle sound of a clicking. That anxiousness and fear started creeping up in her bones at the thought of them being watched, please not again. She cut off their conversation with her anxious tone “Did you hear that?” 
Mat and Quinn were quick to halt their conversation when they heard the desperation in her voice, a look of worry coming across both of their faces. Quinn was the first one to speak up while Mat reached across the table to rest his hand on Julie's trembling hand that rested on the table, caressing her soft skin with his thumb “No, what did you hear?” 
“I could have sworn I heard a camera click” Julie frowned as she looked behind her one more time, all she could see was the building next door and a little bit of the busy street. She couldn't see anything from the ground level. Quinn also looked around and he couldn't see much from where they sat “Maybe you misheard? 
Click!
The throuples heads all snapped towards the sound, Mat moved his hands from Quinn's thigh and Julie's hand and stood up from his chair and walked past the empty table next them to see over the protective railing. His eyes widen when he sees a man standing next to a light post on the street, a big black camera in his hands, pointed right at them. Mat clenched his fists as he hissed in anger “What the fuck” 
“Come on we're leaving” Quinn sighed as he stood up from his chair, holding his hand out to help Julie up. Julie was quick to get up and hold onto Quinn's arm, the world slightly spinning from her getting up so fast while being tipsy. Mat flips the man off before turning around and making his way back to the table, pulling his wallet out and leaving several bills on the table, not caring if he overpaid, it would be a nice tip. 
He followed them off the balcony and through the restaurant to the back exit that led to where her car was parked. Julie leaned against Quinn's side as he led them towards the door, mat was practically seething as he walked behind them, he hated how insensitive people were, it was disgusting how the paparazzi's treated Julie. 
Mat rested his hand on Quinn's lower back as he moved in front of them to open the door for them, he was angry, but he still made sure to smile at them both as they walked out of the door. Quinn could see the anger in mat’s eyes, and he could see the anxiety in Julie’s, he hated how such a good date night turned sour because some people were such fucking creeps. 
Quinn wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and she snuggled closer to him, his body warmth protecting her from the chill breeze of Monte Carlo. Mat quickened his steps so he could walk on the other side of Julie, his shoulders were tense as he kept on looking around them, hoping that his gut was wrong and that there weren't more paparazzi. 
They were quiet as they walked to the small car park, but the silence was quickly gone as they turned the corner to the car park. Julie let out a gasp of surprise and stepped back in shock at the loud shouts and flashes from the pictures being taken. Quinn was quick to gently pull Julie behind him, hiding her from the paparazzi that stood next to their car waiting for them. 
“Juliette! Juliette smile!” The paparazzi all screamed their names, shouting out questions and demands. The three of them knew better and kept their mouths closed, not giving them any attention that they desired. Julie winced and closed her eyes; every loud click and shouts made her flinch and move closer to Quinn who was leading her towards the car. 
Mat quickly pulled out the keys and unlocked the car for them to quickly get in, standing behind them protectively as the paparazzi's moved closer to them, they were surrounded, and mat was doing everything to hold back and not shove them away. Julie squeezed her eyes shut and trusted Quinn to lead her, her heart felt like it was going to shoot out of her chest. The flashing lights and the shouting made quick work to give her a headache, the wine in her bloodstream not helping. 
Quinn quickly opened the backseat door and helped Julie in the car while Mat got in the driver's seat. Quinn quickly stood behind her as she got in when he noticed one of the paparazzi crouching down, hoping to see up her dress. Quinn sent him a heated glare before getting in the backseat with her and closing the door. Mat quickly locked the doors and started the car. 
Julie slumped in the middle seat, leaning her head back with her eyes still closed as she tried to calm down. Quinn moved closer to her and softly brushed her hair out of her face, leaning down to place a soft kiss on her forehead as he whispered “It's okay honey, they can't get to us in here. Your safe” 
“Those fucking creeps, there lucky i didn't run them over” Mat hissed angrily with a scoff as he pulled out of the parking lot and into the streets. Quinn kisses Julie's forehead again as she cuddles into his side, Quinn says Mat's name in a calm town, wanting him to calm down before he gets too worked up. 
Mat lets out a heavy breath telling himself to calm down, he quickly looks in the rearview mirror and frowns when he sees the upset look on Julie's face, Quinn was playing with her trembling fingers, knowing that it would help calm her down. Mat asks softly, "Sweetheart, are you okay?”
“I’m sorry that I ruined our date night” Julie murmured sadly, so quietly that Mat almost didn't hear her from the front seat, Ignoring her boyfriend's question. Juliette had terrible luck with the paparazzi, they never left her alone, to the point where she’s had to move twice from the fear of her being watched at her home. A fear that made her anxiety even worse. 
Mat’s heart broke at how dejected she sounded, and he wished he could just give her a big hug and kiss all her sadness away; he would make sure to do so when they got home. It hurt both of their hearts to hear those words coming out of her mouth, especially when it's definitely not her fault. Quinn frowned and continued to play with her hands and hair “it's not your fault angel, please don't say that” 
“Yeah, it's those assholes' faults, besides we have a whole lot of night left” Mat was quick to reassure her, they hated seeing her upset and sad. Mat made eye contact with Julie through the rearview mirror when she lifted her head from Quinn's chest. Mat sent her a flirtatious wink “And i know a lot of ways we can enjoy out night” 
A small chuckle leaves Julie’s lips at Mat’s flirting, he never failed to make her smile. Both of them smiled at the sound of her laughter, happy to have cheered her up. Quinn pressed a quick kiss to her temple before saying sweetly “There’s that pretty smile we missed so much” 
Julie felt her heart flutter as she tilted her head to look up at Quinn, he looked so handsome. He had some stubble from not shaving this morning, his longer hair was a little messy, and God that smile on his lips. Quinn looks down at her with a teasing smirk before glancing at mat “Awe look Shes blushing too” 
“Where did your dirty little mind go sweetheart?” Mat teased as he leaned back in the driver's seat, his right hand falling in his lap as he drove with one hand. He glanced at her through the rearview mirror as he continues to speak “I was talking about us cuddling on the couch watching twilight and eating some sweets” 
Quinn laughs along with Mat when Juliette lets out a loud groan at their teasing. She playfully pushed Quinn away, but he just grabbed her hands and pulled her closer, she was practically in his lap now. Quinn gently cupped her chin and pulled her into a soft kiss. Julie hummed and closed her eyes, her hand coming up to cup his jaw as the kiss got heated. Julie could taste the wine on his tongue, and she wanted more. 
Mat bit his lip to hold in his groan at the sight of the making out in the back of the car, having to stop himself from pressing hard on the gas to get home faster. Julie slowly pulled away from the kiss and sat back in her seat in the middle, crossing her arms over her chest with an embarrassed pout “I hate you both” 
“No, you don’t” Mat smiled as he pulled into the street that led to the apartment building where Julie's penthouse was located. Julie scooted forward in her seat, leaning forward between the driver and passengers' seat to place a quick kiss on his before falling back in her seat with a surprised squeal when mat suddenly drove over a bump, Quinn had grabbed her, and his look of worry turns into a smile at the giggle she let out. 
 “No, no i don't” 
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˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( this is so poorly written omg I’m gonna sob 💔 )
°. — taglist ( @lovings4turn @toasttt11 @cixrosie @ru-kru @alwaysclassyeagle @theopenlocker @lavisenri @callsignwidow @willowpains @winterbarnesblog @yoontwin )
©️WINTFLEUR
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