#Some stuff is happening this week so it’ll be a little while untill I get to ur requests
Text
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬
Satoru Gojo
[Chapter 17] Father and Son
← Previous Chapter - Story Masterlist - Next Chapter →
Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
Satoru tries to make up for the past four years of Ren’s life in a matter of weeks. His focus drastically changes, from his work to his son. He ignores the matter of so many people knowing before him, he avoids his mother and his so-called friends. His main and only priority is his son.
You both wish you could say that your relationship has gotten better, but you don’t really speak to each other unless it’s about the son you share. You’re hopeless that it’ll progress past what you have. Neither of you have the courage to bring up the situation, either way, your attention should be on Ren.
Ren is finally meeting the man that he’s been dreaming of, and he’s getting to know his father after four years. You’re mostly excited for your son, while also regretting hiding it when you had the chance to tell him. Your relationship is the last thing on your mind– It’s certainly the last thing in Satoru’s mind.
He visits daily, bearing many gifts for his son. Satoru has become a regular at the toy store, buying something each day for his son, something that he thinks Ren would like. He hopes that material stuff will make up for the time wasted. Sometimes he brings some candy, but he doesn’t do it often. Satoru is still his father, he can’t just spoil him rotten, he also has to care for Ren’s wellbeing. He’s slowly growing accustomed to becoming a parent.
“What’s this, Ren?” Satoru holds up a cute white cat plush, one that Satoru always finds on the bed. He wonders if that’s the toy his son has had ever since he was a baby, he guesses it is since Satoru feels like he’s seen it in the background of a picture before.
“It’s whiskers.” Ren answers, taking the plush from his father and putting it back on the bed. That’s before he turns to other matters. Ren doesn’t mind sharing his toys (because you’ve been the one raising him), but whiskers is someone that Ren doesn’t like anyone touching. Anyone and anything can get the toy dirty, and when that happens, you refuse to let the toy on the bed, at least not before you wash it and get it clean again.
Satoru doesn’t bother to ask if that’s the plush that he sleeps with, because that’s most certainly a yes. Ren wants to talk about other important matters though so Satoru gives his undivided attention to his son. Ren then asks, “Are you sleeping over?”
“Uhm… No.” Satoru answers. You most certainly wouldn’t want that. Plus, Satoru has a wife at home who has her suspicions that something is going on. He doubts that she’ll care too much, but he wants to keep Ren protected from the world. If Sayo finds out, so does her family, and if her family knows, the whole world will know. “But I’ll stay until you fall asleep, Ren.”
“I want you to stay.” Ren sticks out his bottom lip, obviously disappointed that his father isn’t staying for the night. You let him on your bed all the time and you sleep together, why can’t he do the same thing with his father? Satoru can’t help but feel bad, so he thinks of how to respond to cheer him up.
You commented how you had plans of going on a small trip with Ren before summer ended, but summer evidently has come to an end. It’s colder now and the leaves are changing color. Satoru finally decides, “We can go on a trip soon, and we’ll be together all day every day.”
“Really?” The little boy’s eyes light up, making the biggest smile come to Satoru’s lips. Satoru now wonders how he was ever happy without him– Well, with you… But that memory slowly fades away since your relationship is now filled with awkwardness. Satoru nods his head in response. He can lie and make it a business trip, it’s not an issue for him really.
“We’ll have to talk to your mommy first, honey. Then we can plan it all.” Satoru answers, and Ren turns around to go look for you. Satoru feels awkward sitting alone on a bed that’s far too low and small for him. He stands up and follows Ren. They both look for you around the apartment until they land in your bedroom. The bathroom door is closed, and Ren immediately knows what to do.
Ren opens the door to the bathroom, and you immediately make eye contact with Satoru. Your face grows hot of embarrassment, and obviously Ren doesn’t see an issue with it. Ren’s issue is when he actually steps into the bathroom, and he just has to comment, “It stinks.”
“Yeah, I wonder why. Get out, Ren, and close the door!” You raise your voice, your embarrassment getting the best of you. Ren closes the door, leaving you to it, and Satoru chuckles. He ruffles Ren’s hair as both walk out of your bedroom.
“You gotta learn how to knock, baby. Give your mommy some privacy.” Satoru says, but it goes one ear out the other. Ren isn’t going to knock, you’re his mommy. If you want your privacy you better lock the door. They take a seat in the living room, where Ren grabs the remote to put on a movie. He knows how to get the movie he wants, even when he’s just learning how to read and spell.
“Where do you want to go?” Satoru asks, wondering where his son wants to go. Ren drops the remote on the couch, putting his tiny index finger on his chin, humming and tilting his head to the side as he thinks of the answer.
“The beach.” Ren answers, but it’s cold. They can go out of the country though, go somewhere warm. He needs to talk to you first, of course. When you finally walk out of your bedroom (after mentally cursing your son for not having any manners when others are around), you go to the living room to see what they needed.
“What did you need, Ren?” You ask, and he looks excitedly at you. Satoru is the one that speaks up for him though,
“We want to go on a trip, can we?” You almost laugh since Satoru sounds like a hopeful child.
“Where are you two going?” You respond. You can’t really say no because Satoru is supposed to have equal authority as Ren’s father.
“Ren wants to go to the beach.” Satoru answers, Ren nodding in agreement. You cross your arms, your brows furrowing.
“It’s too cold to go to the beach, do you not have any other place in mind?” You point out, making Ren pout. The pout doesn’t last long though since Satoru says,
“We can go to another country. Somewhere warm with better beaches.” You’re certainly not convinced since you doubt you’re part of the plan. You’re not letting your baby boy in another country without you– Well, technically he’d be with his father, but you’re still not convinced. Until Satoru says, “Of course, you’re included! I doubt Ren would go anywhere without you.”
“I wouldn’t.” Ren affirms, and you laugh.
“If you plan everything, then sure. We can go on a trip. You need to give me time off though– Paid time.” You say, and Satoru nods in response. He does pretty much everything you ask of him, and you certainly can’t complain about it. Ren focuses on putting on one of his favorite movies, and you begin to walk to the kitchen, asking, “Are you staying for dinner, Satoru?”
“Yeah.” Satoru answers. He’d definitely rather eat here with his son and you than dine alone at home. He helps Ren put the movie on, and they both begin to watch the movie. He’s watched this movie around five times the past week, and to be honest, Satoru is sick of it. But he’ll watch it because Ren loves it.
He’s grateful when you call his name, and he has to tell Ren that you need him, so he can’t stay to watch the movie. Satoru walks to the kitchen, and he finds you trying to reach something that’s far too high for you. Satoru’s eyes land on the white bowl and he reaches for it before handing it to you. You mutter a thank you, and you expect him to go back to Ren, but he doesn’t. You then tell him, “That’s all I need from you, you can go.”
“Do you need help with anything else? You know I love Ren but… I’m sick of that movie.” Satoru answers, earning a chuckle from you. You think about what he can do for a moment, and he patiently waits for you to answer.
“You can make the salad, and then set the table.” You respond, and you think you’ll regret it for a moment. Satoru has had everything done for him, he probably doesn’t know how to cut a cucumber; but then you remember that he lived alone for some time, he had to cook for himself for a while. Satoru immediately gets to work, opening the fridge to get all the vegetables that he needs. He looks around the cabinets and drawers for the cutting board and knife, and he quietly begins to cut the vegetables.
“Have you talked to Shoko?” Satoru asks, washing the lettuce throughout. Pretty much everything is wrong between the two of you, but you can’t just stand in awkward silence every single day. You have to talk to each other, after all, you doubt you’ll stop seeing each other.
“I haven’t. I’m not going to for a while.” You reply. In Satoru’s eyes, she did nothing wrong. He’s glad that Shoko told him, otherwise, he probably wouldn’t be with Ren. But in a sense, he understands why you don’t want to talk to her. “Tell her to stop calling my phone because I’m not going to answer. I’ll call her when I’m ready.”
“I’m not really talking to her either.” He responds.
“Is it because she has the hots for your wife?” You blurt out, and you bite your tongue the moment the words leave your lips. Satoru’s brows raise, definitely surprised by your words. You can’t be serious, can you? Before he can ask more questions about it, you change the topic, “Speaking of… When are you going to tell Sayo about Ren? She’s your wife, she has to find out eventually.”
“Maybe after our trip… I’m not sure how to tell her.” Satoru shares, and you understand that it’s a tough situation. He has to figure out a way to tell his wife of almost five years that he had a kid that’s almost five– And he never cheated, he just found out about him. This was all before their marriage. It’s definitely hard. Satoru clears his throat, mustering up the courage to ask about Suguru, someone else that he has been ignoring. “So… How are you and Suguru? Are you still seeing each other?”
“We’ve been busy, but we’re still… Talking.” You answer. You won’t lie and say that you don’t feel nauseous every time you talk to him, your heart nearly beating out of your chest for the simple fact that you lied to him. He has to find out that you lied eventually. “Have you talked to him?”
“I’m not talking to him. I’ve been ignoring him. I’ve been ignoring everyone.” Satoru responds. He puts the knife down, watching you as you begin to cook. He bites down his lip, holding back on saying a couple of things that are on his mind. About this situation, about you and Suguru, maybe an apology. Satoru has been a complete mess with so many things going in his mind, but not voicing any of them. He does have to ask one question though, “Is Ren the reason why you quit school?”
“Yeah…” You feel embarrassed to say it. “I couldn’t afford both. It was either my baby or school, and that was an easy choice.”
“Sorry…” He mutters, and it’s barely audible but you hear it. You don’t really pay attention to it, in the end it was your decision. Given the option, you’d do it all over again.
#[changes]#gojo saturo#satoru gojo#gojou satoru x you#jjk satoru#gojou satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen gojo#jjk gojo#gojo angst#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo satoru#jujutsu gojo#gojo x reader#gojo fanfic
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Peacock Au Part 4
DP/DC week prompt:
Eldritch Entities
'Joker has broken out of Arkham for the thousandth time, and is roaming the streets unhindered. Unfortunately for him, something finds him before the Bat does.'
(body horror tw || fic under cut!!)
(Part 1 Here)
-
See, the situation is as follows: the Joker is out on the streets post-Arkham breakout, and he knows there’ll be an announcement issuing everyone to stay inside before it’s even been made. He’d be a lot more pleased about all that if the getaway car he’d arranged to be outside had actually shown up, but unfortunately the goon he’d left it to had bailed- whether it counted as chickening out or growing a spine was yet to be determined, though regardless he was fairly sure their brains would be outside their skull by the end of the night. As it is, he’s sticking around the shadier streets to avoid attention before he has access to more of his stuff. Right now all he has is an officer’s gun and the willingness to use it. Not much, but it’ll do.
It’ll do for dealing with this kid in the middle of the road, at least. Just because he isn’t fully-loaded right now doesn’t mean he can’t have any fun, does it?
“Well, say,” Joker whistles, sauntering up into the dim-light of the open road for the first time that night. The boy before him is relatively plain looking; pallid, with big blue eyes and black hair half-blending into the shadows behind him, wearing clothes not quite suited to the sudden chill of the Gotham streets, just a t-shirt and jeans. Perhaps a little peculiar, especially alone, but nothing special. Just another face he’d probably wipe the life out of if it didn’t end up more interesting to keep him alive. “What’s a little boy doing here alone with all the big, bad wolves out tonight? Looking for some trouble?”
The boy’s gaze lifts from the ground he’d been staring at so intently and- wow, those blues are weird to look at! Although… are they blue? They look more green now that they’re catching the light, the way he’s heard the eyes of the little bird he did in do when he’s angry.
Doesn’t matter, either way. The resemblance’ll just make scaring him more fun, something of a trip down memory lane. Even if the kid doesn’t look quite so frightened yet (shock, he’s sure. That’s happens). “I was just checking on something from a little while ago. Keeping tabs, y’know?”
“Oh, I know all about that. Gotham’s my playground- I know it like the back of my hand.”
“That’s great!” The kid exclaims, suddenly perking up, as if he’s only really started paying attention to the conversation now that something relevant’s come up. “In that case: can you tell me if anything’s been up in the last few weeks? No more shadows than usual? Nothing overly strange happening?”
It’s not often the Joker finds himself confused, but the lack offright or any other kind of negative reaction to his presence is starting to get on his nerves. Either this kid is out of it, or on something- but Joker knows how to spot a user, and he isn’t on something.
He turns the gun over in his hand, pretending to admire it but really just trying to remind the boy of the current threat he’s being posed. “Well, I was a bit locked up the last few weeks, but I’ve got ears everywhere and I can’t say I heard a thing. Say, do you like clowns, boy?”
Something in that question changes the boy’s demeanour. His shoulders go back just a tad, like he’s leaning on a wall the Joker can’t see, and his stare shifts. It wasn’t on him before, he only realises it was focused just over his shoulder until they’re actually making eye-contact, and the Joker hasn’t been afraid for a long time and refuses to break that streak, but it is a lot colder than it was before.
The boy’s grin is sharp. Joker can’t remember how many teeth people are supposed to have. “No,” He muses, casual in a way that implies confidence that implies danger. “No, I can’t say I’ve ever met a clown I got along with. Why, is that what you’re supposed to be?”
Okay, enough’s enough’s enough. He’s the Joker. He will not be made the joke, least of all by some nothing-no-one brat with a little too much confidence for someone walking alone on a break-out night. Incensed, he twists his grip until his finger’s on the pistol trigger, aiming it right between the teenager’s eyes.
“Funny boy, aren’t you? Y’know, I don’t think I’ve seen you around before, so you must be new. You don’t know the rules around here. You don’t know who’s at the top of the food chain. Allow me to fill you in.” He seethes. “When faced by the Joker, there is one thing you need to be aware of: no matter the circumstance, you are the prey.”
A thing happens between the pause at the end of his own sentence and the beginning of the child’s. “Hm.” The boy says, but it’s not confusion, and nor is it dread. His grin is lean and far too casual for someone with the business end of a bullet aiming right at their brain, but as the sound drags on sing-song it stretches, stretches, stretches-
Like shedding skin, the monster unfolds from the boy. Cold in a firestorm, the transformation is the inverse of a supernova, everything tumbling out as if desperate to spit its soul before caving back in to something witnessable. Almost the figure of a person, the opposite of a shadow, and the horrible cousin of a world-eater. Something flares out at the back, flowing like waves or feathers or a thing with eyes in all its centres.
Eyes, then mouths. The aftertone sends shockwaves. Its voice is ice-needles and fingernails and pierce-static and laughing at him.
“You think you’re bigger than you are.” It says, looming over him like the end of days or whatever he used to think death was before he’d forgotten to keep believing in it. He certainly remembers it now. “You think you’re bigger than you are, and you don’t know when to cow, and you are very, very mortal, and that is a horrible combination of things to be.”
“I know who you are. I know what you’ve done, and I know why you did it, and I know what will happen to you in consequence- and I have made choices not to interfere with someone else’s course, but I will tell you this now and once and never again. You are someone else’s problem, but if you try to become mine, I will unmake you.”
For the first time in perhaps his whole existence as the Joker, there is not a word he can say in response. He doesn’t agree, doesn’t refute, he doesn’t do much of anything as the form before him unwinds into rivulets, curling in on itself to reveal, once again, the boy. Blue eyes, black hair, pallid just like before and just like nothing’s wrong. But beneath it, that pretence of flesh and bones, he cannot unsee what he’s seen. He cannot stop seeing what he knows is hiding in there.
The child gives him a very boyish grin that feels like it’s going to snap into a blackhole if he looks away. “You’re obsessed with Batman, right? That’s your whole thing, being his foil or something.” He crows. “You want to keep doing that ’til you kill each other? Leave me out of it, and he’ll still remember you existed.”
The sudden green of his eyes spreads out like a flashbang, and when the Joker squints, he is slumped over in his Arkham cell. When he comes to, the guards will gleefully recount how Batman got the drop on him before he could even get to one of his warehouses, knocking him out without a single other casualty- his shortest reign between imprisonment to date.
It’s an embarrassment.
He’s going to be looking over his shoulder for the rest of his life.
#dp/dc week 2022#body horror tw#I talked with stealingyourbones about this kind of scene a while ago and it was Too Good not to write something for#I actually wrote this in October but this seemed like a good time to post it so!!#I want to do a part with Danny interacting with the JL at some point too so hopefully that'll happen!!!#dpxdc#danny phantom#danny phantom au#dp au#Bongo's Aus!!!#Bongo's Writing!!!#peacock au
913 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Christmas Mystery - Red Velvet Irene, Seulgi, ????
*Hey, I have a question*
*Hi Seulgi. Yes, sure, what's up?*
*No it's Joohyun, Irene, whatever, you know who I am. When are you going to write for me again? You've written Seulgi and Wendy, and then you've written Seulgi again! When is it my turn*
*Nice to meet you. Umm I dunno, I had no plans for that. And you're fine with me lewding you and all that?* Your hands are shaking slightly as you text Irene back.
*Can't be worse than some of the thirsty comments we get, at least you last long enough to write that much*
*Thanks, I guess? But sorry, no real ideas*
*What, am I not hot enough?*
*No, of course not. It's like a song, you know? Not every song suits the group. Not every idea fits you just because you're hot, even if you are hot*
*Fine, but if I come up with an idea, would you listen to it?*
*Sure, no promises though*
*Oh I'll make sure you'll want to write it, you just wait*
You gulp at her threat, and simply reply "OK". Irene doesn't follow up with an idea though, so you forget about it until Seulgi pings you once more weeks later.
*Hi, are you free Friday night?*
*Yeah, should be*
*Okay, can you come over? Irene unnie wants to tell you about her idea*
*Sure, I'll bring my laptop*
*I would also bring a change of clothes, just saying ;)*
*Great*
You're thrilled about what Irene had in store, and slightly fearful, given her adamant order to write, but there was nothing to do except to wait for Friday to arrive.
It is well worth the wait.
Seulgi and Irene have you arrive at a mansion, and you feel conspicuously underdressed as you approach the ornate door.
"Welcome, my dear writer." Irene almost fawns over you in a high-pitched voice. She's dressed in a little Christmas-themed red dress, white fur lining the top of it. Her hairstyle was simple, but simple is all that's needed when you look like Bae Joohyun. She produces a piece of black cloth and approaches you. "Nuh uh, don't move." Irene pulls it around your eyes, blinding you. You grunt as she ties it extra tight around your head before loosening it just a little. As a parting gift she draws sharp nail along your neck—Irene not only dressed to kill, she came to kill.
"Come on, follow me." You stumble closely behind as you hear Irene's heels click and doors swinging open.
"I've been reading your stuff, while mine was good, it's old, I want a new one."
"T-Thanks for reading them, and sure, but I can't really write while I'm blindfolded."
"Shut up. You have some interesting ideas, and I want my story to have all the interesting ideas. But no writing tonight, you'll just have to remember enough to write it later." Irene emphasizes this by taking your laptop out of your hands. Sit." You find yourself pushed onto a couch. Her hands are on your shoulders, and you reflexively reach out for her.
"Stop. Are you going to be a good boy and behave, or do I have to tie your hands up?"
"I'll behave." You stay still as Irene merely puts her weight on you and leans in.
"So you have stories about being blindfolded, stories about being tied up, a fucking gacha story, and so, so many breeding stories, so here's what's going to happen, this story? This story is going to combine everything!"
"O-Okay?"
"So, you'll say a number, let's say 1 to 9. One of us will come to you, and we'll do whatever we want with you. Maybe you'll be tied up, maybe you'll tie us up. Maybe you'll cum on us, maybe you'll cum in us, who knows what will happen, it'll be up to us. You'll call 4 numbers across two nights, and you'll be blindfolded during sex, so at the end, you have to guess who did you have sex with and in what order correctly."
"Sure, what happens if I guess wrong?"
"Then you have to write a story about this, remember every detail."
"And if I guess right?" She pulls on your ear harshly, making you wince.
"You just got to fuck four K-Pop idols, what more do you want?" Fair enough. "Do you agree?"
"I can still disagree?"
"Of course, then I kick you out of the mansion and we have our own orgy, you can have fun imagining that. So, yes or no?"
"Yes, I guess."
"Hah, I guess?" She reaches down to grab you through your pants. "I'll take this as a yes. Come in!" Irene calls out in the room, and soon you hear multiple heels clicking on the floor, getting louder, and to your surprise, it sounded way more than then 4 other members of Red Velvet.
"This is our guest for the weekend. I gave each of you a number earlier, if he calls your number, you get to have fun with him. Make sure he keeps the blindfold on, don't reveal your identity to him. Other than that, do what you want." You hear hushed whispers, but little else. A long finger is on your chin.
"Now then, what number do you choose?"
"Uh... 2?" Your selection is immediately met by a chorus of sighs and boos.
"Again?" You hear someone ask.
"Tch, okay 2, take him to your room." Irene's heels click and clack away from you, until the room falls silent. A hand grabs you by the wrist, and you follow closely behind number 2. A door is opened, then closed as you walk through it. You're spun around and pushed back, and you land on a bed.
"Hi oppa." You recognized her voice quickly.
"Seulgi?"
"W-What? How did you know?"
"You do know that voice is a thing right? It's only impossible to tell in writing."
"Oh, oops, I don't think Irene unnie realized that." Seulgi giggles. You breathe a sigh of relief—maybe this will be easier than you thought.
"Can I take off the blindfold then? I know who you are already."
"No, I have something in mind, keep it on, but the rest can come off." Seulgi's hands work on your jeans, and you take off your t-shirt. She pulls your jeans and boxers off, leaving you naked on the bed. "I'm going to paint a picture in your head oppa, I want you to imagine it just like how I imagine things when I read your stuff." Wordlessly you nod, and you hear Seulgi's heels stop in front of you.
"Can you guess what I'm wearing?" You shake your head.
"Remember our Beautiful Christmas MV?"
"Of course."
"Good, I'm wearing that little red dress, and nothing underneath." Seulgi's voice drops to a whisper, just loud enough for you to hear. Her hands grab yours, and you smell her perfume as she pulls it around to her back. The coldness of the zipper contrasts the heat between the two of you harshly.
"Go ahead." The sound of the zipper is deafening, like a lightning bolt crackling down Seulgi's back. "Thank you dear." Relucantly you let her go, your hand trailing over her warm body as she backs up.
"It's going to drop to the floor... now." On her word the fabric rustles to the ground. You're leaking precum everywhere already, imagining her naked, that she's wearing nothing but her accessories and her heels. Those same heels approach you.
"Seulgi?" You feel velvet on your thighs, and as your hand moves around on it, you realize you're holding Seulgi's dress in your lap.
"I want you to touch yourself, touch yourself like I did while reading Haul-lelujah. Do you want to know how I did it?"
"Y-Yes," you croak, throat suddenly dry. As you feel more than hear Seulgi sit opposite you.
"When I read it, I had to go grab the tightest leggings I had and wear them, do you know what I did next?" Your hand starts stroking up and down, a visible "yes" to Seulgi. "I pushed it— Ah! Pushed it into myself, I fucked my leggings, they got so soaked." You hear the soft wet sounds of Seulgi starting to finger herself, the rustle of the sheets telling you exactly how quickly or slowly she is going—instinctively you match her pace with your hand.
"And then I did what you said you'd do, rip my top off and slowly peel the leggings off. Then I shtuffed it in my mouf—" Seulgi's voice is suddenly muffled, but the bouncing of the bed leaves you no room for imagination—Seulgi's right next to you, fucking her own fingers as she bites into the sheets.
"Fuck Seul!" She's wetter than ever, and you're harder than ever. Initially you can still hear her movements clearly, her fingers exiting and entering her pussy in time with noisy slickness. But as she speeds up, it begins to all blend together, as does Seulgi's moans as she drives herself into a frenzy. Soon you're in a frenzy too, the blood pounding in your head as you stroke faster and faster, fucking your hand like you would be fucking Seulgi.
"Nnngh oppa!" You hear a loud squelch, and suddenly your shaft is drenched in her juices! You cum immediately, feeling the soft fabric on your thighs as you jerk forward—you forgot that it was Seulgi's dress, and in the moment it may well have been just the most expensive tissue in your lap. Blindfolded and too far gone to care, you fire freely, stroking yourself to completion until you're leaking on your fingers, at which point you wipe it on the soft fur fabric.
"Mmm Seulgi—" Your mouth is suddenly filled with a soaked fabric as you are pushed back on the bed. The same scent fills your nose as Seulgi sits herself on you, rocking her hips on your face. She's fucking your face just as you described, except her panties are in your mouth! Her fingers dig into your hair, and she's pulling on you, rubbing her pussy all over your lips and nose.
"Oh, oh yes, ohh..." Seulgi climaxes a second time, coating your face in her juices. She slides down a little, now sitting on your abdomen to give you room to breathe. Or so you thought, as Seulgi kisses you and bites on her own underwear, pulling it out of your mouth before spitting it out. She comes back in for another kiss—any more of this, and she's going to kill you by asphyxiation. "Thanks for a fun time, what number do you want next?"
You're still gasping for air. "W-We're not having sex?"
"Not tonight, sorry."
"Damn, uhhh number 7?"
"Who was number 7 again... Okay, I'll bring you to her." You hear Seulgi zip up her cum-stained dress, and you fumble for your clothes before she grabs you by the wrist.
"Wait, my clothes!"
"You'll have them afterwards, you won't need it for tonight anyways." She pulls you out and along some corridor, making a few turns before almost letting you crash into her. "Stop, stop, we're here!"
"Sorry, you need to tell me beforehand."
"Right right, anyways, the handle is right here," she places your hand on it. "Enjoy."
"Thanks Seulgi." You hear her walk away as you let yourself in.
"H-Hello?"
"Hi, please take off your blindfold."
"Really?"
"Mmhmm, don't worry, my identity is still hidden." You shrug and take it off. There is a wall in front of you, and a pretty big hole in the wall—through it you can make out milky thighs and a short red dress. "Please put your cock through the hole."
Oh, it's like a glory hole. You stand close to the wall and put yourself through the hole. The ensuing silence is explained immediately as her lips part around your shaft, and her tongue starts wrapping around you. You look up at the ceiling, the slurping and sucking sounds of your partner all that you need to paint yourself a vivid image. She sucks you furiously, and her hair is tickly on your thighs. Your legs go weak, and your partner takes the opportunity to grab your legs, pulling you closer to devour your cock.
"Oh fuck, wait, I'm going to cum already!" The warm wetness of her mouth immediately subsides, and you get the briefest glimpse of white going down her legs before she replaces her mouth by another set of wet lips. Your moans clash as mystery number 7 pushes herself back on to you.
"Mmm that's deep! Just stay right there." She starts pulling herself off you slightly before backing her ass into you again. She grinds herself deep on your shaft, and while the hole prevents you from thrusting back, you're glad that you're able to last longer because of it.
"Fuck I need more, back up a little, keep your eyes closed!" You back away from the wall and do as she says. When she has you open them again you see that she has stepped backwards through the hole, her slim waist filling most of the opening. You still can't see her face, but you are able to see what you needed—the bottom half of someone, their red dress barely covering their ass. She's wearing boots, but the black lacy stockings just make her legs look even longer.
"Go ahead, fuck me, give it to me good." You immediately lift the dress and push back in. Your hands naturally go around her wide hips as you settle inside her. You lift her hips slightly so you're better aligned with her, and it gets you an extra inch deeper.
"Oh god, that's it!" You set a quick pace, your thighs slapping into her ass with solid claps of flesh—she's tight, and her toned body tenses in your hands every time. Through the small gaps in the hole you watch her hair fly up and down, her head snapping back every time you push through her now creamy and sopping wet entrance. You raise a hand and bring it down on her ass with a snap.
"Ahhh!" She screams from behind the wall, but her pussy tightens around you even more. So you slap her ass again—it ripples just like her wails around the room. It rises in pitch, turning into a piercing shriek as you grab her by the hips and lift her—with a firm grip on her tight body, any complaint about you would be groundless as Miss #7 dangles in the air. Held up almost like a wheelbarrow, the hole serves as a fulcrum, and she is the lever of pleasure as you pound her, making her legs flail with each thrust.
"Fuck fuck fuck fuck!" With a final shout she goes breathless, and your partner's legs go rigid, toes splayed out, reaching for a floor she wouldn't touch—not until you were done with her. Her back is tense, and her muscles flex and twitch in rhythm with her pussy, desperate to milk you. But you hold on, to both her and your orgasm as a few drops of slick leak from your connection.
"Hey, I'm close, where—"
"In me," comes the tired reply from the other side of the wall. A few rough thrusts into her limp body and you almost pull her out of the hole as you yank her on to you. You let go with a groan, and her toes curl in response, hands gripping the edge of the hole tightly as you fill her own hole with cum. You let her down and she flops to the ground in front of you, her legs weak like custard. A puddle of white is already growing underneath her.
"Thanks, you should go." Her long hair covers her face, so you don't get a good look at her before she turns away from you.
"Do I call the next number now?"
"No, that's for tomorrow, just wait outside and someone will bring you to your room." Dumbly you wait outside naked, until a masked lady comes for you.
"Here, please put this on." She hands you the clothes you brought and shows you to your room, and you bow gratefully before collapsing in bed. It wouldn't do to wake up smelling of sex though, so you take a shower before burrowing into the sheets and falling asleep.
Sex is inevitable though, and you jolt awake feeling a warm, nude body by your side.
"Oppa?" You recognized the voice.
"I-Irene?"
"Joohyun please."
"Umm sure Joohyun, what are you doing?"
"Being selfish." She captures your lips passionately, and you're immediately hard even at the middle of the night. "I never told you, I really liked your sweeter stories too."
"Oh, thanks for reading I guess?"
"Please do that to me." Needily she rolls you on top of her. "I'm yours." Your lips make sure of that, sucking on her neck, leaving a bruise that the shadows can't hide.
"Oh god, say you love me, please!" Joohyun whispers hurriedly.
"I love you," you mutter, and Joohyun coos in delight—this was not the Irene you were expecting. Not the Irene that demanded you here to write a story, the Irene that always gets what she wants. This is the Joohyun who wanted to feel wanted, from you of all people. She's going to get what she wants, you suppose, but on your terms.
"So pretty, so nice..." you murmur, and Joohyun whimpers as you move a hand down her nude figure. You grab her butt lecherously, and all she does is twist towards you, to offer you more room to roam her thigh and leg. "Even though you have many fans, I love you the most out of all of them, you know?"
"Yes, please, please!" You pull her in for another kiss, and you hand waves small circles over her cheek, admiring at her juiciness. Closer and closer you get to touching Joohyun between her legs, and when you brush against her lips she squeaks and you gasp—she was soaked.
"Please oppa, please I need you!" Your fingers play with her slit, running them along one fold, then the other. You rub your fingers against her entrance, preparing her, but Joohyun pauses your advances. "Please, I want more than that."
"No, you want me to love you right?" Joohyun nods, and she moans in surprise as you slide a finger into her. "Then I'm going to love you my way." The protesting hand on yours melts away, and you begin firmly fingering the leader of Red Velvet, pushing into her clenching warmth.
"You're so tight Irene..."
"Joohyun!"
"Sorry, Joohyun, forgive me?" She blushes at your sweetness, and she tightens further with a nod. You kiss her cheek, her neck, her ear. Each kiss you push a little deeper into her, rubbing her a little harder. Joohyun's already on edge, so when you capture her lips and curl your finger, you draw her over the line.
"Mmmm!" She moans into the kiss, her upper body keeling towards you as her thighs close around your arm. You keep rubbing at her g-spot, and her legs thrash and kick about until Joohyun's utterly drained and her orgasm finally spent.
"I'm going to fuck you now." You withdraw your slick fingers from her, undress what little you have on, and get between her legs properly. As soon as you are in position you feel her heels on the back of your thighs—she's already wrapping her limbs around you.
"S-Slow, please?" Joohyun looked more vulnerable than ever, and you can't tell if she has you wrapped around her finger, doing whatever she wants you to do. Or do you have her wrapped around yours with how submissive a lover she's being. What you do know is that you have her wrapped around your cock as you take her slow, just as she asked.
"You're so tight Joohyun!"
"Y-You're too big oppa!" she groans delicately, relaxing herself to allow you in. The feeling of being inside her is nothing like you've imagined, and you take deep breaths against her neck as you eventually bury yourself inside her.
"You feel incredible, I mean it." Joohyun responds by wrapping herself tighter around you.
"I'm happy, keep going, make love to me, fuck me, whatever you want." Your fingers run through her hair, brushing them to the side to get a look at her. Joohyun really is gorgeous, and her lips part beautifully as you start drawing your length in and out of her. She shouts in pleasure as you lean down to tease a nipple, swirling around the stiff nub—with a gentle nip you also leave light teeth marks on her breast.
You go back to watching Joohyun, her expressions varied, morphing in bliss as you hit different spots inside her—her lips would purse as you hit really deep inside her, then open in a loud moan as you pull back. They then stay parted in a small "O" when you slide back in at the right angle, rubbing the g-spot you found earlier. Her eyes wander your face, but also flutter shut, especially when it got a bit too much.
"Don't hold back," you order. Your fingers through her hair suddenly pull on it harshly, yanking her head back and opening her windpipe. At the same time you start a demanding rhythm, a strong pace that is determined to drive Joohyun into a screaming climax.
"Ah, w-wait! Oppa! Ahhh!" Joohyun wails uncontrollably, crying out into the bedroom as the sudden fierceness sends her hurtling to another peak. She screams as you put one powerful thrust after another into her during the orgasm, forcing her leaking slick back into her before it is pushed out by the next wave of slick. There is a small wetspot between her legs by the time you stop moving, and Joohyun's face is glowing in sweat and pleasure. It is also glowering in determination as she starts bucking up against you, urging you to move again.
“M-More, I want more!”
Your own orgasm nips at your heels, and you respond in kind, starting up slow before quickly picking up the pace again. Your harsh breaths are right in her ear, and she turns to kiss you, swallowing your exhaustion.
"You're going to cum?" Treating it as a demand in your frenzied state you move faster. Joohyun yelps and begs into your ear. "Oh, oh fuck! Just cum in me, just make me pregnant!"
Roleplay or otherwise, that's too much from her, and you kiss Joohyun fiercely—the taste of blood is on your tongue as you erupt in her, unleashing a white flood on her womb. She quivers and shakes underneath you, whispering how hot your cum feels inside her. It makes you wonder if you've actually done the unthinkable. As you finish seeding her, your kiss turns gentle, light pecks in apology for drawing blood. Even bleeding from one side of her lip she still looked beautiful, and you lean in for another kiss as you collapse on top of her.
"Thanks," Joohyun whispers. "I really wanted that, even if you might not write about it later." You're too drained to speak, and simply smile and nod.
She cuddles up against you, pulling your arm over her—for the moment, the two of you are lovers, and you raise a hand to brush the blood from her lip.
"S-Sorry about that, got carried away."
"It's okay, I don't mind if it's you doing it." She pulls your hand to her tummy, and now you're really not sure how much of it was roleplaying. You're too tired to think, maybe you'll clarify with her tomorrow, for now you needed sleep.
You wake up the next morning smelling of sex, but the bed is unfortunately lonely—Joohyun had left sometime in the early morning. In the room there is a brunch spread and a note. You read the note as you go through the delicious brunch.
*Please rest for now and stay in your room, you will next call a number at 3 pm*
That left you plenty of time to refresh and rejuvenate, and you head for another shower before simply relaxing on the bed, flipping through TV channels and your phone. On the dot at 3 pm there is a knock on your door, and a masked lady pokes her head through.
"What number would you like to call?"
"Umm, 6 then?"
"Aww okay, please follow me." You follow her out the door, and she looks around before whispering in your ear.
"If I were you, I'd pick 8 next, okay? It's a lucky number, trust me." You nod confusedly, and she continues showing you the way. When you arrive she blindfolds you before guiding you through the door. "Don't forget!" is her final whisper. You're left waiting for Ms. 6, and she approaches you confidently going by her footsteps.
"Welcome, this way please. You may leave your clothes on the floor." Once she's satisfied with your nudity she guides you to the bed and has you lie down. "I hear from Seulgi unnie you're good with your mouth?"
"Umm—" You freeze as her weight is on your chest—she's already sitting on you! "Yes."
"Good, please go ahead. Let's see how long you last."
"Wha— Ohhh..." Her hot mouth is suddenly wrapped around your shaft, and realizing what she wants your arms reach up for her hips, pulling her up slightly so you can eat her. You lean your head forward slightly, and as soon as you are able to locate her properly you start licking her slit, drawing light vibrations from her mouth around your shaft. Her entire body rocks on top of yours, alternating between bobbing her head on your cock and grinding her pussy all over your mouth. You hiss into her thighs as she gently grabs your sack, massaging it and pushing you close. You respond by spreading her juicy cheeks, a stray finger playing dangerously with the hole above her slit.
"Damn, that's—" The sudden pause in her rocking allows you to double down, and you slip a bit of your finger into her ass. "Ahh!" Gently you push your fingertip in and out, pushing against her resistance just enough for her to feel it. At the same time you keep the pressure up on her slit, licking it up and down. She doubles down on sucking your cock, determined to get you off first. It becomes a race, the suction of her cheeks almost unbearable. But what is really unbearable is your focus on her clit, ruthlessly flicking it with your tongue. When you slip your finger deeper into her ass, it's like you've run a rod through her.
"So fucking dirty, oh god!" She orgasms first, her hands going to your thighs, grabbing on to them for support. Mindlessly she bucks on you, riding out her climax, rhythmically pushing her ass back on your finger—you can feel her shiver and clench around you when you go deep.
"You did not write about that, ah..." She gets off you, pulling you to the edge of the bed. "But you didn't write about this either." Propped up on the bed, you moan as you feel your cock sandwiched by her soft pillows. Her tongue is suddenly only on your tip rather than wrapped around your cock, and as she strokes it with her tits, the race restarts, except you're the only one racing, and like Father Time, Pleasure is unbeaten. Your partner feels it too, and she licks the underside of your head deliberately.
"Fuck, that's it!" You groan loudly as you release, the feeling of her tits moving along your shaft exquisite. It is then replaced by a stroking hand, and your balls are gently squeezed by the other. "Ah..." She coaxes even more out of you, and you're almost falling off the bed when you finish.
"Wow, hah you can take off the blindfold, you've covered me completely." You see that it is true when you pull the fabric off. There is white goo all over her face, and some is on her well-endowed chest too. She really is unrecognizable, save for one open eye and a bit of her forehead. "Now put it back on, I'm going to go clean up."
"S-Sorry about that."
"Don't be, you were blindfolded." Her laugh is unrestrained. "You should wash your hands before you call the next number, none of us expected that."
"Right." She leads you to the bathroom and helps you wash your hands. She applies impromptu lip balm in the form of saliva on your lips, courtesy of her tongue pushing into your mouth. You're tempted to pull her against you for a similarly impromptu fucking, but she eventually pushes you away.
"I would have loved to have you for the night, but perhaps next time." You settle for a hand on her ass, squeezing it as she leads you to the door. Immediately you hear the masked lady again—has she been waiting for you the whole time?
"So, who are you calling next?"
"I'll call 8." You manage to remember the masked lady's request, and she squeals in delight.
"Yay, that's me!"
"Wait, really?"
"Mmhmm, come on, let's go!" She drags you stumbling through the halls and into her room.
"W-Wait, why are you leading me around, I thought you would be waiting in your room."
"I got the short stick to drag you around to the other girls, so might as well make the most of it." She spins you around and pushes you on the bed. "Now, how do I want to do this?"
You take the time to try and process the new information—she may have had the mask on, but you had seen her. She's petite, small in size and with short hair, who has that haircut? Before you can think further, Number 8 is in your lap, removing your clothes.
"I know about you and Irene unnie." A chill runs down your spine, how?
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Tch please, I was going to sneak in myself, but then I heard her screaming her head off. You'll do the same for me right? You'll breed my flat little tummy?"
"I-I don't even know who you are." You hiss as she sucks your collarbone.
"You'll find out in 9 months, and you can write about it then, call it 'How I bred—'" She pauses and laughs to herself. "Woops, almost revealed myself, are you ready yet?" She jerks a groan from you in response. "That's a yes."
When she gets in your lap, you realize she is smaller than she looked in the Christmas dress. She is also much tighter than the Christmas dress when she sinks down on your cock, how is she so wet already?
As it turns out, Miss #8 might be a mind reader when she whispers in your ear. "I've been listening to everything, it all sounds so hot, I was so hoping you would call my number." You feel something hard and phallic thrust into your hand. "If you didn't call my number, I was going to fuck myself silly on that, but I'm glad I don't have to now." You're glad too, there's no way it would have fit in her, given how tight she is right now. From the fugue of her tightness you realize one thing.
"You listened to everything?"
"Mmhmm, fuck yes, this is so much better than just listening though." She's already riding you slowly.
"So, can you tell me who was which number then?"
"Of course silly, we all know who was what number, how else would I lead you to the right rooms? You want me to tell you who was who?"
"Yeah, please?"
"That depends, can you stand up right now?"
"What?"
"Do as I say." Your hands wrap around her waist tightly, and you grunt as you manage to push yourself off the bed. You can hear the smile in her whisper, "Good, now fuck me just like this, make me forget I'm not supposed to tell you who's who, and I just might."
You bend your knees and straighten them again, lightly bouncing her as she clings to your neck and cock. You support her best you can, grabbing her thighs as you work your own, half-squatting and driving up into her each time.
"Yes, just like that, I'm dropping so deep on your cock! Ah fuck!" She squeals and gets even tighter, already rolling over an orgasm. Everything about her is small, even her orgasm, and she's already moaning and whispering in your neck to keep going. "That's only one, keep fucking me, keep fucking— nngh!" You shut her foul mouth up with a second peak. Despite her brazenness, she's easy to please, and like Santa’s sleigh in turbulent air you bump and bounce her through multiple small peaks.
As you move your hands to a more fuck-friendly position, you realize just how petite she is—you could lift her on and off your cock if you wanted to, and now that you have that knowledge, you definitely wanted to. You stop the ride and hold her still, ignoring her whines as you adjust your hands to clasp her waist. She squeaks cutely when you apply firm pressure, but as you start manhandling her up and down your shaft, low sexy moans begin to escape her lips.
"Oh, oh no! How dare you treat an idol like this! Like you own little fuck toy, what will my fans think— Ahh!" Said idol apparently loves it, and she releases a small wave of juices over you shaft. You get more into it, thrusting your hips in time with pulling her down on your cock, fucking her like a cocksleeve. She hangs on to you by the neck, her legs barely able to stay wrapped around your hips as she groans at the delicious friction.
The pressure around your shaft grows with every passing orgasm from her, like she's slowly crushing you between her legs, and the pressure in your core grows too. In her present state she probably is less mind reader and more just feeling your cock throb inside her, but she manages to pull herself closer to you, whimpering into your ear.
"Cum in me, I need to feel it, give it to me!" A few a more strong tugs of her on to your cock, and you find yourself sitting back down on the bed. With the help of gravity you jam the pleading idol on your cock and unload into her. Her shout of surprise immediately dies away into soft grunts as you spew thick cum into her, each burst unbearably hot and gooey in her womb. She does the riding for you now, grinding on you slowly to extract all of your load, cooing as you fill her stocking with heat.
"You still came so much, good boy." She peppers your neck with love bites, her hair tickling your chest as she does so. As the two of you calm down from the session, you decide to catch her off-guard.
"So, why don't you tell me who I've been with?"
"I hope you enjoyed this weekend, hmm?" Irene jokes as you are brought in front of everyone once more.
"Yes, definitely, and I won't even have to write about it," you proudly say.
"That confident? Go ahead then, let's see who you guessed." You take a deep breath and remember what you were told.
"Seulgi—" Irene cuts you off with a jubilant shout.
"Hah! Wrong! I look forward to your story then!"
"What? How is it wrong? The first number is Seulgi! I even recognized her voice!"
"Did you have sex with her?" She fires back.
"S-She rode me and everything!"
"Doesn't count! She rode your face, not your dick! So you're wrong, and have fun writing about this weekend!" Irene cackles and laughs.
"Fine, including you sneaking into my room then?!" you fire back, to a chorus of scandalized shouts.
"Unnie!" "How could you!" "You should have invited me!"
"Shut up! I don't care, include it if you want, but you are going to write it."
"I haven't even mentioned who the others were, how do I know if I'm right?"
"Just leave it up to your readers then, we'll know who’s who of course, but no one else will."
So, who do you think you fucked?
A/N: Those Beautiful Christmas images are too hot not to write about, so I blended it in with that ask about continuing “Reader Feedback” in some form. Hope this is not too confusing, anyways I think I’m being very obvious about who’s who lol, but if you feel like pretending it’s someone else, by all means. Thanks for reading and happy holidays!
510 notes
·
View notes
Text
It Takes Two
Part 2 is here finally
Part 1, Part 3, Part 4
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x enhanced ex-avenger reader
Warnings: Angst, happy ending, kinda possessive Miguel, love confessions, mentions of injuries and medical stuff, self gaslighting, they finally stop being idiots
Words: 1.8k+
Rated: PG-13
You woke up alone and in pain. Well, it wasn't exactly pain as you knew it, but it was definitely discomfort. The right side of your chest felt like it was woven with lead and your head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, adding to your over all discomfort "You gave us all quite a scare!" A Spider-Nurse chuckled as soon as he entered your room with perfect timing, scaring the crap out of your poor little self.
"What happened?" You asked, your voice rough and popping from disuse, the heart monitor beeping in time with your fright.
He began poking and prodding, measuring your condition with his eyes and ears "Doc Ock got an extremely good hit in, sent you flying based on what Lyla said. Bruised your spine, gave you a stellar concussion, and a decent laceration in your right pectoral. It'll scar, but you'll live and that's the most important thing." He was rambling, but his words made everything rush back to you, including a certain confession to a certain someone. You wanted the floors of HQ to swallow you whole and never let you go. The very last thing you'd ever wanted to do was bother Miguel with your feelings for him, make him feel awkward and put on the spot. You were certain that he didn't feel for you as you felt for him, that there was no way he'd let himself because of the Universal difference that stood between you. "Head hurt?" The nurse asked with a warm tone, making you imagine the soft smile that lurked under his mask.
"Ya, just a bit." You nodded a little too quickly for comfort, passing off your emotional turmoil as physical discomfort.
He nodded in understanding before pulling your hospital gown down just enough to check on your wound "Let me just see how this is healing and I'll go get a Doc so they can give you something for the pain."
"Thank you." You said it as sincerely as you could, pulling what looked like another smile from the Spider-Person.
"You're very welcome." His fingers were gentle as he removed the bandage, not letting the tape pull too much. The air was cold against the wound, making it sting ever so slightly "Looks good, forty-five percent closed on it's own. I'll go find a Doc for you." He put the bandage back before leaving just as suddenly as he'd arrived, his steps just as quiet as every other Spider's.
It didn't take long for the Doctor to come, her white coat pristine over her dark suit "Hello Y/n, I'm Doctor Petra. How are you feeling?" She asked in that measured tone all Doctors seemed to use.
"Uncomfortable."
She nodded with a thoughtful hum, quickly putting on nitrile gloves and pulling back the bandage for her own peek "Well, I can confidently say you can be discharged today, the wound is healing excellently on it's own. And I can give you some prescription grade Ibuprofen for the pain if you want."
"No, I've got some at home I can use."
"Ok. Light duty for a while I'm afraid. No missions or heavy lifting until after your follow up, ok?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Alrighty!" She hummed, taking off her gloves and throwing them to the bin across the room "You're all set to go! Your clothes are there on the chair, take your time getting dressed and holler if you need help! See you in two weeks!" She got up and left your room before you could ask when in two weeks you were supposed to go back, but decided to not press it as you slowly stood and shuffled over to your pile of clothes stiffly. They were clean, mostly, save for the blood on your undershirt and jacket, but there wasn't a speck of dirt to be found. Getting your shirt on was hell, your wound not wanting to let you raise your arm up enough so you had to get creative. Walking out of the hospital wing was relieving, though seeing Miguel waiting for you at the entrance was a whole new stress in and of itself.
He was still as a statue as he waited, stoic as usual with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. You felt like you were walking into a lecture as you stiffly closed the space between you until there were only two feet left "Hey..." You greeted first, you voice soft and light in trepidation.
"Ready?" His voice didn't match his visage, it was light and warm instead of flat, his eyes that shade of garnet that was quickly becoming your favorite. You didn't trust yourself to speak, instead nodded and quickly falling into step beside him. His hand immediately found itself a home on your mid-back, warm and soothing, anchoring through your jacket. Addicting. You wanted to sink into the contact, and you could swear he sensed that as his fingers spread to increase contact, taking up nearly an entire third of your back. He didn't say or do anything as you both walked towards his office, just coexisted in the same bubble as people stopped and murmured around you. "So, I suppose we have something pretty important to talk about." His words filled the messy space as soon as the doors closed behind you, his expression instantly changing to something akin to teasing amusement.
"Oh?" You asked, pulling away from him to sit on a desk, needing to take the pressure off of your hips and back.
He raised a brow at your bid of ignorance, the corners of his mouth barely curling in a restrained smile that was fighting for freedom "Mhmm." He took a spot barely inches away from you, between your knees. Your heart was racing wildly in your chest, in his ears, your throat jumping in time under his gaze. He found it adorable, how nervous you suddenly were. "Something about me being pretty when I smile?" His smile grew in spite of his attempts to curb it as your eyes widened, realizing that he did indeed remember everything you'd said, and confirming to him that you remembered as well. "And how you've had a crush on me for the last year." He watched as you looked away, mortified, a dullness lending itself to your eyes. It concerned him, making his suit recede from his hands as he reacted for you, broaching the last few inches as he gently grabbed your chin between his thumb and forefinger and brought your focus back to him "Hey now." He cooed low in his throat, trying to coax you out of the shell he saw you constructing.
"I shouldn't have said any of that. It's unfair of me to burden you with my feelings. I'm really sorry, I promise to not make it a problem for you." Your words were hasty as they tumbled off your tongue, still not looking him in the eyes.
He ducked into your gaze, worried as you tried to shut him out and shut the conversation down, made you look him in the eyes as he brow furrowed "Why would it be a problem for me?"
"For a multitude of reasons!" Your voice was suddenly loud and you were willingly meeting his gaze, eyes swirling with a plethora of emotions, so many that he suddenly wanted to kiss away and chase out of your mind with all the love he could give you for the entirety of his life. "We're from different Universes for one! And you deserve so much better than me!"
His head tilted to the side as your words rang in his head. Did you truly believe that you weren't good enough for him? If anything, he whole-heartedly believed he wasn't good enough for you! "What?"
"I wasn't even good enough for my ex! He threw me away as soon as he could, after everything! I'm broken! You can do so much better than me. You deserve so much better..." You sniffled, tears falling fast and hard from your eyes.
Both of his hands found your cheeks, his thumbs tenderly brushing away your tears before he was pressing his forehead to yours, sharing air with you, hoping that his thoughts would be shared with you "Eres mi cielo, mi alma. Te amo, más que a nada." He rumbled into the minimal space "You are everything to me, Y/n. You always will be." He vowed, making your tears multiply as the words you'd longed to hear were finally in the air between you "I'm not Steve, I'm not going to leave you for a 'what if' because there's no one better for me than you. Because I love you. I want to grow old with you, I want to raise children with you, make a life with you. And only you. Only if you want the same with me."
Your heart was stuttering as you processed his words, as you searched for a falsehood you already knew you'd never find. You were nodding before you had a chance to get the words out "Yes, for a million years, yes!" His smile was everything to you in that moment, so broad you were sure his cheeks would be sore later, his eyes so bright they were like red stars.
"Can I kiss you?" He asked softly, moving so close that his nose was caressing yours, sending goosebumps across your body with a rush of thrill and anticipation.
You nodded, not breaking contact as his breath fanned your face lightly "Please do, Miguel." He didn't waste a moment, pressing his plush lips to yours feather light, testing the waters. It felt like he was being electrocuted in all the best ways, a tingle rushing up and then down his spine as your lips pressed so deliciously against his. He couldn't tell who deepened it, all he knew was that in no time your lips were dancing together, following a rhythm only they knew as you both clung desperately to each other, his hands under your shirt, touching as much of your skin as they could, while your hands were tangled in his hair. He could barely pull away from you even a few inches to catch his breath, your pupils blown as wide as his no doubt were "I love you." You whispered softly, smiling up at him so prettily. He groaned a growl as he dove into another kiss, devouring your breathy giggles as you kissed him back. You were finally his, where you belonged, and he was going to make sure you remained by his side, he was going to love you like you'd never been loved before. He swore it to the Multiverse. To all the Gods. To every molecule in his being. He'd love you til the end of Time itself.
160 notes
·
View notes
Text
Mad Scientist!Miguel O’Hara x Frankenstein’s Monster!Reader.
AN: haii! i’m like super duper new to this stuff so it took a lot of me to post this, super sorry if this is mega ooc or something!!!
Warnings/content: Decapitation, blood(?), use of numbing agent, sharp objects (to cut off heads obvi :3), brief mention of restraints, use of the words bitch and slut if you’re not into that, terrible depictions of anything doctorly i am NOT that guy… (tell me if i need to add anything!
Word count: about 1.6k
——————
You feel yourself waking up, blinking as your vision begins to un-blur and swearing you felt butterflies where your stomach was supposed to be upon seeing Miguel looking down at you with that oh-so loving smile, leaning down to hold your face.
Your beautiful, beautiful face, all made by him, from the shape of your nose to the color of your eyes, sometimes he was surprised he was able to make something so.. breathtaking.
“Morning, little one…” He whispers as to not wake you up entirely, kissing your forehead before immediately sticking a needle into you, the strong numbing agent coursing through your veins immediately.
You weren’t completely immobile yet, but you do start to feel your fingers and toes fall asleep.
This was the fifth time this week he had done an experiment on you, and it was only Wednesday if you had remembered correctly, “Do again…?” You murmur, trying to open your eyes as they continue to close from either your sleepiness or the numbness.
He chuckles, dragging his fingers over your eyelids to close them again, “I’m sorry, hon.. I really am…” He begins to tighten your restraints to make sure you can’t move, “You know how special you are, right? I need to do this…” His voice so honeyed you could practically see the sickly sweet words oozing from his mouth behind your dark eyelids.
He didn’t need to do half of the stuff he does to you, you and he both knew it, but your devotion to your creator helped you throughout all of his trials and tribulations.
A small hum of agreement comes from you, feeling (or not..) as your whole body becomes paralyzed, you remember the first few times where you used to be scared of when it happened.. how you used to try and resist as he pulled out his needle, now you can only feel comfort in the way he talks you through it, how he’s there with you…
He drags his large hands up and down your waist, relishing in your pure beauty to then pull his cart of tools closer to the cot you were on, “This’ll be quick, okay..? It’ll be no time until I stitch you back…”
“Stitch.. back..?” Your lips barely move as you respond in garbled speech, confused on what he meant by stitch back, was he going to cut you open again..?
He nods even though you wouldn’t be able to see in your state, “You’ll see…” He says, a shit eating grin gracing his features.
You make another noise, this one being hesitant instead as you felt the pressure of something being pressed against your neck, but not what it was exactly, your eyes trying to shoot open despite the numbing agent.
“I want you to relax…” He mutters, as if he felt your discomfort, you loved that he always knew how you felt.
What that thing was was a bone saw.
He was going to cut off your head.
He kissed your cheek before getting to it, slowly slicing at your neck as if you were just some vegetable on a cutting board your blood spraying all over him, not phasing him at all while you couldn’t be the wiser.
Finally, the last precise cut was made, your head falling off your neck like nothing, and you hear the pleased laugh he makes as he picks it up and inspects it. You were his little trophy, he could put you on a shelve if he really wanted to.
Due to you not being connected to your body, your eyes start to flutter open, finally waking all the way up with the little sniff of your nose.
“How do you feel, honey..?” He asks, trying to stop himself from kissing you any further until you answer.
Your lips curl into a smile when you look at him and his handsome face, his cheekbones and jawline making you think he was the one with his features handpicked, “Good…” You try to nod, but your face drops as you notice that you’re not connected to your neck, a frown taking over, “Mi-guel…” You warn, as if it would do anything for your situation.
He gives a faux look of pity, “I’m sorry.. you know I am…” He whispers, his chair groaning under his weight as he sits at his desk, placing you under the lamp that sat there, and writing down something that you couldn’t understand.
In your singular year on this earth, you’ve come to learn he is never sorry, no matter how soft his voice is or how pouty his lips get, the times he plays and prods at you are not the same times that he is head over heels in love.
Yet you always accept his apologies, with the hope you could officially live your life with him, not strapped to a cot with harsh light in your face or with organs from who knows where stuffed into you at random.. just out and about, maybe he would take you home if you asked.
You didn’t know what normal humans did when they liked each other, but you wished to do whatever it was with him.
“Mi-guel..?” You mutter, cheesing when his eyes quickly look up from what seems to be a report to you, he was always so attentive, “Question. I have question.” Your eyelashes flutter, making him smile right back at you.
“And what is that, sweet thing..?”
“What if sweet thing.. goes to the outside…” She pauses to add on “With creator.” quickly.
His smile drops into an ugly scowl, his nose scrunching up at the thought of letting her leave, that’s until he gains what little composure he has while taking a deep breath, “Where’d you learn that. Who told you the outside was okay for something like you.” He says in a low tone, it felt like a slap to the face and he hadn’t even said no yet.
“Sweet thing thought it would b-be okay-“
“-Well it isn’t. Did I tell you it would be okay..?”
You would shake your head if it were to be attached to anything, but it wasn’t, so you just sit there with a sad look on your face.. noting how he glances at you every so often while writing, noticeably getting more and more tense as the moment went on.
“Stop looking at me like that.” He grumbles, putting his head into his hands and sighing.
“What?” You blink a few times, drawing yet another sigh from him.
“I am so fucking hard right now, stop looking at me goddamnit.” He spits out, as if he was mad, as if she was at fault for simply looking his way.. when did he even find the time to get hard in these past few minutes..?
You gasp softly, your mouth hanging open in surprise upon his words, he was always easy to arouse, but for this to happen to him right after getting mad at you? You wondered if he actually liked you.
“Close your damn mouth.” He groans, resting his head on his forearm on the table, the other one slowly reaching towards his belt to unbuckle his khakis that were fitting way too tight at the moment, “Shit…” He seethes.
“Fuck you. Fuck you, stupid bitch.” His voice wavers as he removes the layer of his pants, the huge tent in his boxers making him shiver at the sight of his own genitals. He finally frees himself and watches as it springs against his shirt, slightly leaning back down due to how heavy it was.
It was leaky, veiny and beautiful, the base a bit darker than his actual skin tone and the needy tip getting redder and redder as the time passes, he lets out a low groan as he sits back, finally remembering that you were right in front of him.
“I think I have a.. test for you…” He breathes out, looking at you seemingly for approval, grabbing your head and not letting you respond anyway as if he wasn’t looking for approval.
You knew what to do, body or not, what you weren’t ready for is the way he shoved his cock in your mouth, not that you necessarily had airways at the moment…
And your lack of lungs made it better for him, with him writhing and moaning like a chick while watching his dick disappear within your mouth as if this was some sort of magician’s act, using your warm, wet mouth as some pocket pussy.
This was for release, this wasn’t an experiment.
“Mmf.. yeah.. yeah let me use your mouth, slut.” He says under his breath, his head rocking back and forth as if he couldn’t hold it up correctly, his teeth biting at his lip so hard he was about to draw blood.
But what else were you to do..? Walk away? Tell the man in possession of your head to stop? You can’t talk with a mouth full of cock anyway…
“F..fa… Fuck- Gonna cum in your pretty mouth, yeah?” He lets out a voice cracking whimper before stilling, letting his thick load fill your mouth to the point where it spilled out due to having no where else to go.
He gave a dopey smile at the fact that his cum was all over his pants, little aftershocks spurting out at the sight till he finally sets you back down on his desk.
“Sweet thing passed.. yes..?”
“More than passed.” He hums out.
The next few minutes consist of him stitching you back, cleaning you up and tying a cute red ribbon where the incision was. You were whole again, you were you again.
And most importantly, he loved you again.
Fin.
#miguel o'hara#miguel x reader#miguel smut#miguel spiderverse#miguel o’hara fanfiction#miguel o’hara fic#atsv smut
40 notes
·
View notes
Note
I'm a trans man who wants phallo SO bad but the Fear Mongering people do makes me so scared. I have such a fear of surgery anyway and people say phallo is nearly 23hrs long, and it has more risks than heart surgery does, and idk if these are true bc I'm too scared to google it..But I want it so bad, but the stuff I hear scares me. Also people saying it doesn't have any sensation worries me. You said trans men can ask about it so I hope this is ok to do on anon!!! I'd appreciate a non fear filled reply so much thanks!!
23 hours!! Those poor surgeons, can you imagine!
Virtual hugs if you’re the hugging type, Anon, and a cool rock if you’re not.
Those things are definitely not true, not remotely. It’s a long surgery, but when I say it’s long that means it’s about 8 hours all told. It sounds like maybe someone heard it referred to as an “all-day” thing meaning a full WORK day, but instead assumed that that meant a full CALENDAR day. Or, you know, a transphobe made shit up to scare people.
It is most definitely not nearly as risky to your wellbeing as a surgery in which they saw open your sternum and cut open your actual beating heart. There is a fairly high chance of a minor complication that can result in the terrible ordeal of getting pee on your pants sometimes—a urethral fistula—and in most cases, they close up on their own anyway without needing another surgery to correct them. And in this case, “fairly high” means 40%, so it’s still less than half a chance that it’ll happen in the first place. At worst it’s annoying. Serious complications, the type that put you in danger, are extremely rare.
The sensation thing is also false, because they literally harvest a length of nerve from your donor site and hook it up to your existing bits specifically so you WILL have sensation! Sure, it takes a little while for the nerve to heal, but that’s just the reality of ANY surgery.
The nerve grows back in your donor site, too, by the way. While I was typing this up I discovered that one particular spot on my graft is ticklish.
Everyone has their own individual healing factor, but speaking for myself, I had full erotic sensation before the 3-month mark, and the orgasms have been incredible. The head and base are highly sensitive, and everything in between responds pretty damn nicely too, just less of a hit-the-ceiling level of sensitivity. And, you know, if you’ve handled an AMAB person’s penis much at all you’ll know that’s pretty much in keeping with how their dicks work too.
It is an in-patient surgery so if you have it, you’ll be staying in a hospital for a few days so they can keep an eye out for rare disasters. My stay was four or five days of snoring most of the day and periodically getting woken up to eat or answer some simple check-in questions, lift my arm for nurses to move stuff, etc, and then conking back out.
Being cathed sucks, but two weeks of frequent trips to the toilet to drain your bag is honestly nothing compared to a lifetime without (or with vastly reduced) bottom dysphoria. That’s the part that I hated. Everything else was your typical recovery: 10-15 days of sleeping 20 hours a day, then however many weeks of being tired, taking meds, and careful washing, gradually feeling more and more normal until you’re back up to full and ready to get back to business as usual.
Except with this one, you get to learn to pee standing up in the process. :D
(Protip: don’t try a public urinal until you’ve got it down pat at home. Not because of cis men, but because the learning process is messy, lol! The overwhelming majority of cis men in public restrooms want nothing to do with anyone else while they’re in there. The only place anyone’s gonna give your dick more than half a second’s accidental glance is in a gay bar. In 8+ years of using public men’s rooms I have yet to see one (1) penis that wasn’t mine!)
#phalloplasty#ftm#trans men#bottom surgery#trans matters#transphobia.#queerdom#medical transition#replies to things
127 notes
·
View notes
Text
There Was an Attempt:
Looking For Answers Pt. 1
[Death/ Muerte (Puss in Boots) x Immortal! Reader]
(A bit longer with less romance than usual, but that’s because there’s some plot. So sorry if you don’t like that but I promise it’ll only be for a little while and then we’ll go back to all the mushy stuff. It’ll just be about looking for answers about MC’s immortality and whatnot.)
The bar was busy today out of all the days. It could have been busy a few weeks ago when Corin was here, but hey, it decided to be busy now that he was sick at home and resting! The urge to curse at life had never been so unbeatable, and yet she was reminded of their time just yesterday making pretty flower crowns for one another and having a good laugh as they shared some stories, so she opted to curse at the universe instead.
Fuck you, universe. She grumbled in her mind, fixing another customer a drink and quickly sliding it over to him as he grumbled and rolled his eyes from where he sat, muttering something about her being way too slow and uncooperative.
She thought about punching him in the face and wondering if he would still be able to tell her that she was being ‘uncooperative’ then.
Stars, she wishes she’s had that good night sleep now instead of just walking outside at the break of dawn and ending up crying in Muerte's arms while at it.
Her eyes were still burning from the amount of tears she had shed earlier, and she was a bit thankful that they weren’t as puffy as when she had first woken up. If so, she’s sure she’d scare more than half the customers today.
Well at least you wouldn’t be having a hard time if you scared half the customers away.
Yeah, I wouldn’t be able to eat, either.
Great. Now she was arguing with herself in her head.
Could this day get any messier?
A fist slamming against the counter of the bar snaps her out her thoughts, the drink she was supposed to be delivering tumbling out of her hands in shock and pouring down on her clothes while some splattered on the man’s face, his already twisted expression scrunching in even more anger.
“I’ve been asking for a drink for the past five minutes!” He grumbled, face red in anger and lips pulled back to bare his teeth.
“I’ll get right on with it if you just let me--”
“Bullcrap! When I ask for a drink I better get that drink. Do you know who I am!”
She took in a breath, about to open her mouth to calmly retort when someone pulls him back from the counter, the man tumbling to the ground as a familiar sickle glinted against the light that shone through the windows, her brows lifting at Muerte looming over the people that had gone quiet at the sight of him.
“She told you to wait. Didn’t she?” He tilted his head to the side, leaning down toward the man on the floor and pressing the edge of his blade against the man’s neck, almost gently pulling it up to his chin. “Now I don’t care who you are, or who you’re supposed to be. But when a lady tells you to wait. You. Wait.”
“Fuck you, I don’t care what some big bad wolf has to say. I’ve killed a crap ton of you fairytale animals.” The man swiped an arm upwards, blade in hand and almost cutting the fur off Muerte’s neck. He was fast, but not faster than death himself. A paw grabbed at his wrist, twisting it in place until a sickening crack caused the man to cry out in pain, crumbling in a fetal position on the floor while cradling his broken wrist.
Muerte huffed, turning to the crowd that immediately looked away from him and the scene as if nothing had happened, walking towards the counter where she was frozen where she stood, worried eyes glancing from the man and then up at the approaching wolf.
“You…” She swallowed the lump that formed in her throat, hearing the man crying as he scrambles to his feet and runs out the door. “You know… he might come back with a vengeance. Men like those aren’t really willing to let their ego and pride get smeared so easily.”
“He won’t come back,” Muerte hummed, “I’m just giving him a head start.”
“You know you don’t have to be here.” She lowered her voice to a whisper, leaning toward him to make sure no one else heard. “You’ve already done enough for me earlier today. Plus, you’re death, doesn’t that make you a busy person-- wolf-- whatever? I don’t want to keep you from doing your job.”
“It’s fine. Souls won’t get too far from their body when they die, they’re connected to it. And if there is some chance that they might cross the ocean by the time I come back, I'll still be able to track them down.” He lifted a paw to tap his nose, a smug grin on his lips. “But in the meantime, I think I’ll stay here a little longer-- make sure you don’t get into any more trouble.”
Her shoulders sagged, and a breath pushed past her lips. It’s not like she could just say no. He was offering to help, and since he arrived, no one’s been yelling at her and ordering her to make them a ‘damn drink’ as if they were King Arthur themself.
“Alright, fine.” She huffed, eyes catching sight of the lilac she had tucked in his poncho just yesterday morning, unable to help the small smile that tugged up her lips. “Just… tell me if you need anything.”
He grinned. “Well, my usual drink would be nice.”
---
“Ey, Perrito! Don’t get too far into the crowd, we don’t want to lose you again like we did just two days ago!”
“Okey doke!” The small chihuahua was back to his and Kitty’s side in no time, but still ‘oohing’ and ‘awing’ at the marketplace they were strolling through. He took a glance at Kitty, who had looked back at him and snickered at the exhausted expression on his face.
“You’ve got to calm down. Far Far Away isn’t getting any farther with every second we stray from the path.” Kitty reasoned with a shrug, flicking Puss’ nose when he rolled his eyes at her.
“I know, I know,” Puss groaned, running a hand down his face and pulling Perrito back by the collar of his sock sweater when he got too distracted by the flowers of a nearby stall. “But I’m only keeping track of time. I only have one life left and I have to make the most of it with you and Perrito.”
“And you will,” Kitty gave him a comforting smile, placing a gentle paw against his shoulder and giving him a squeeze. “There are plenty of ways to enjoy life. One of them is just… living in the moment.”
With the way Kitty looked at him, he could feel the tension in his bones ebbing away, shoulders sagging as he places a hand above hers, a small smile tugging up at his lips.
“You’re… you’re right.” He smiled, giving her hand a squeeze as she smirks at him and lets go of his shoulder.
“Of course I am,” Kitty grinned. “What would you do without me?”
“Or me!” Perrito jumps in between them, earning a laugh from the two as they were tugged in a hug by the small dog.
“Now since we’re living in the moment,” Kitty stretched, “I think a good drink before we leave this cute town would be a good way to end the night.”
“So long as you keep me from jumping off a tower, I’m in.”
“I make no promises, cariño.”
They walk into a nearby pub just a little ways away from the market. It was busy, it seemed, but despite that, the people spoke in hushed tones, ducked amongst one another as they spoke.
“Weird,” Kitty mumbled to him, and he replied with a simple hum of agreement. “But which town isn’t, I guess.” She shrugged and continued on towards the counter, where a woman was busy with taking care of the drink orders while one other guy was busy handing out the food.
“You go find us a table, I’ll handle our drinks.” He offered, and Perrito walked away with a salute, Kitty following shortly behind him.
Puss walks towards the counter, jumping to the stool and waving to the woman, her head turning and her brows liftinh at the sight of him. She looked exhausted, it seemed. But she still managed a small smile as she greeted him.
“Oh! Hello!” She grinned, walking over to him with curious eyes. “What can I get you?”
“Buenas tardes, señorita,” Puss tipped his hat. “I’ll get three shots of your finest leche.”
“I’ll get right on it!”
He watches her walk away, probably to get his ordered drinks. Seeing that they haven’t run into any talking cats, the leche was still probably at the back.
Taking a seat on the stool, he drummed his fingers against the wooden surface, oftentimes turning around to look amongst the crowd and search for Kitty and Perrito, waving a hand at them when their eyes met. They were speaking with a few people next to their chosen seats, heads ducked the same way as the others were.
Kitty and his eyes met. Wide and almost panicked.
Why--
“Well, well,” he knew that voice. His entire body grew rigid, the familiarity of the situation bringing his nerves alight and his fur almost standing on end. “I didn’t expect to meet you here.”
“Lobo,” Puss greeted, trying to keep his heart from beating too harshly against his chest. But he couldn't deny the fact that it brought him some relief knowing he was still alive. Despite the way they had resolved things, the sight of the wolf still brought him just the slightest of fear. “Are you here to collect me?”
The wolf laughed, shaking his head and bring his drink down the counter. “Of course not,” He grinned, baring his sharp teeth. “I’m here for a different reason, so you’re free to enjoy. So long as you don’t cause a ruckus then I’ll be out of your tail.”
Now that intrigued him just the slightest. He turned his head to look over his shoulder, looking for Kitty and Perrito amongst the crowd and finding them already looking at him with worried eyes. Kitty gave him a slight thumbs up, asking if he was okay and he simply returned the gesture with a small smile.
Turning back to the wolf, he dared to ask, “What are you here for, then?”
---
Muerte looked down at the cat, then turned his attention back to his drink.
He had lived long enough to see so many affairs of humans and fairytale beings in this world and yet even now, he couldn’t figure out what made (Y/n) immortal.
But Puss, however.
He knew that the cat had meddled with a lot of magic, and had friends that knew of it. Maybe if he…
Taking a pause on that train of thought, he looked up at the door that (Y/n) had disappeared in minutes earlier. How would she react if he ends up babbling about her immortality to someone she doesn’t know? She’d kept it a secret for this long, and even though he knew he could easily collect the cat’s soul if he were ever to speak of this to anyone else, it still felt wrong to talk behind her back.
Gulping down the last of his drink, he stood to his feet, startling the many patrons in the pub and causing the whispers to fall to a silent hush.
He didn’t bother saying anything as he walked to the back and down the cellar, meeting (Y/n) halfway through and gently nudging her back inside, being careful as to not spill any of the drinks she held in her hands on her.
“What are you--? Is everything okay up there?” She asked, looking up at him with brows furrowed in worry and eyes looking into his own for answers.
“Yes,” he shut the door behind them, the candle light above them being the source of light in the almost dark room. It was a little bit more cramped in here than he thought it would be, and he wanted to curse himself for having to duck down to be able to actually fit in the room, causing the already cramped space tighter than it should be. “I thought cellars were supposed to be more spacious than this,” he cursed under his breath.
“Apologies, I never really thought an almost 8 foot tall wolf would want to be cramped in here with me.” She said, sarcasm lacing her tone until a smirk tugged up her lips. “But if you wanted to have some alone time, you could’ve just asked.”
Well he was a little bit glad to find that she was back to being her usual self, and he lets her know by saying it out loud, a small laugh pushing past her lips.
“Honestly? I’m still tired, and I can’t wait to go home and sleep, but seeing that I’m already here I might as well try.” She replied. “Now what are you doing here?”
“Some… acquaintances… of mine are upstairs,” he starts, and she arches a brow at his pause and wording. “And I know you’re secretive with your immortality but they’ve met a lot of magic users and it could help with us solving your… predicament.”
For a second, he swore he saw hurt flashing in her eyes, but it was gone the moment he thought about it as she retorted, “You’re really eager to kill me, huh?” She grinned, though it didn’t quite meet her eyes. “And here I thought we were bonding so well.”
“I--”
“--Okay, fine. We’ll talk with your acquaintances later tonight. Just tell them to stay until everybody else is gone and we’ll talk to them about it.” She gave an awkward smile, then gave him a small pat in his chest before he could even get a word out. “Now if you’ll excuse me, there’re still customers waiting upstairs.”
She pushes past him and out the door to the cellar, not bothering to look back as she leaves him behind in the darkness of the room.
He goes back upstairs a few seconds later, walking over to Puss’ table where they talked amongst themselves, (Y/n) nowhere to be found as he ducked to their heights, whispering,
“Stay until everyone’s gone and then we’ll talk.”
Puss looked at him with worried eyes, one where he knew was regretting ever asking the question he did earlier today.
#puss in boots death x reader#death the wolf#death x reader#muerte x reader#pib:tlw#puss in boots#puss in boots death#puss in boots the last wish#puss in boots the last wish x reader#fanfic#puss in boots the last wish death x reader#x reader
237 notes
·
View notes
Text
Updates! Updates updates updates~
TW: mention of needles and injection
Confession: I said I would wait until my appointment next week to start taking T… but I’ve already taken my first shot. Mom if you’re reading this please hear me out: I sought out advice, and the advice was that it’ll be easier to regulate my conditions medically if I’m treated as I am, as someone taking T, rather than regulating it pre-T and then risk T throwing everything off-balance and putting me back at Square One.
So: ya boygirl’s officially started testosterone! 🥳🎉
I spent a solid hour trying to hype myself up, because while I don’t have a fear of needles, I still don’t particularly like them. I was of course given options, but right away I was like “Yeah, I can take the shot, no problem!” It’s not a problem until you’re staring at the needles that came with your prescriptions and realize Oh, I have to stick one of those into my own fucking leg.
But to my shock, it was… surprisingly easy? I had a harder time just getting the medicine into the vial. The infographics I was given all said to stab it in fast, but while obsessively Googling how to minimize the pain, several people suggested inserting it slowly. So I tried that, and I… didn’t feel it. Little pinch, then nothing. Tiny bit of leakage, so I put some pressure on it then slapped a bandaid over it. And that was it. Got a bit sore at the injection site that night, it was still tender to the touch the next day, and today I have to press down with a fair amount of pressure to feel that same soreness at all.
I got a huge burst of energy for the first few hours then crashed HARD, like I had a full-fledged cold. Thankfully I found a subreddit for early-stage T users, and they verified that it’s totally normal! You’re so excited about the big changes coming your way, and your doctor’s so intent on ensuring you know how to do it safely, that neither of you think to discuss what happens immediately following the injections. And the answer just so happens to be “You may or may not feel like you’ve been hit by a truck the first few times.” 😅😂
Today is Day 2 in Full, Day 3 Overall. The first effects started showing up today: random bouts of weakness, stronger-than-normal hunger, occasional weird feelings in my throat, some other stuff y’all don’t wanna know about so I won’t overshare — so I’m bringing a nice big stash of peanut butter crackers and cough drops to work tomorrow. I intend to not only survive, but thrive through this second puberty!
My body feels a bit strange and when I’m tired, I’m TIRED (right now, for example, I can’t find the energy to get off the couch), yet I’m really happy. This is happening. 🥹
17 notes
·
View notes
Note
can you pls explain to me what happened on tbp tour? i know the recording was bleak with the haunted manor and all that, but i keep hearing little things about the tour and i can't seem to find any information on google?? like some ppl on here have mentioned some things about frank's health and that he was on pills so idk if it was a drug issue or a chronic illness thing?? i think g and mikey suffered a lot of mental health stuff?? just please gimme the run down?! i love u
okay so this might get a little long so i’m putting it under a cut but basically in summary: they are insane. they’d already put themselves through a lot of emotional pressure writing the album in a haunted mansion where their producer was encouraging psychological warfare among them, and then they threw themselves into a LONG and gruelling tour and honestly made it as difficult for themselves as possible every step of the way. they were dealing with mental and physical illness and they pushed way past the point of exhaustion. they were reaching major life milestones (all of them got engaged at least once, three of them got married) but spending entire years away from home. they became the face of a subculture they didn’t particularly feel like they had anything in common with, and then they got some really bad press that was extremely demoralising because it wasn’t about the music, it was about the actual message of the band, which had been twisted and misinterpreted.
but if you want more detail (cw for sh & sui ments):
so the page for this tour got taken down from wikipedia for some reason but it’s archived here and it’ll give you an impression of just how huge this tour was. legs kept getting added on to the tour because they thought this was the band’s, like, one big chance to take over the world so they didn’t want to say no to anything because they thought that’s what the album deserved. at the start of it they effectively played two sets a night - the black parade front to back and then some revenge and bullets songs as an extended encore. they did it all in thick, non-breathable wool jackets and trousers, and they did it six nights a week with almost no breaks - basically the only breaks they did get were when they were travelling between continents lol. the wiki page i linked lists the dates of the tour proper, but they were also playing album launch shows in multiple countries in the months before it fully kicked off. the spot that looks like they had a nice long break between july and october was actually almost fully taken up by pro rev LOL.
gerard and ray were actually the only members who made it through the full tour. cortez filled in for both mikey and frank at different times. mikey left fairly early - in april 2007, after getting married to alicia backstage after their show in vegas in march. he left for a honeymoon and didn’t come back until september for the final couple shows of pro rev. he also opened up a bit about how hard 2006 had been on his mental health while they were writing the album, so the break was much-needed. frank left a couple of times for shorter stretches, once because of an illness in his family and once because he had a wisdom tooth complication and couldn’t fly to australia. also, yeah, the constant touring took a toll on his physical health at times and he wouldn’t take breaks when he needed them - i’m sure you’ve seen the pictures of him onstage attached to an oxygen tank. bob was recovering from third-degree burns at first and then had persistent issues with chronic pain in his wrist and had to take a couple of months off playing or risk permanently disabling himself, and for at least most of those dates he was replaced by tucker from thursday. beyond that they did have to cancel several dates in may 2007 because everyone except frank and gerard (including most of their crew and the band muse) got terrible food poisoning from some catering chicken (frank escaped because he’s vegan and gerard because he slept through catering that day lol).
projekt revolution saw the band, like...really fucking exhausted. at that point they’d started getting kind of sick of playing the characters of the black parade. ray in particular talked about feeling disconnected from their audiences because of the uniforms and burned out by the repetition (this article’s pretty interesting because ray doesn’t talk about that aspect of the band very often in public). so for the festival shows they gave up playing parade in full and doing two sets every night for a bit, but now they were playing in extreme heat with a shit tonne of pyrotechnics lol. pro rev was meant to be the end of the tour, but they added a couple of extra shows in mexico to ritualistically kill off the black parade because i would expect no less from this band (that was october 7 2007, which is when the black parade is dead was filmed). and then they added another leg, and another...and they essentially ended up doing what basically amounted to a second full world tour without ever stopping the first one lol. it wasn’t only long but also so over-the-top in terms of theatrics and staging that they barely even broke even financially at the end of it. which is like. crazy. they had five full buses of stage equipment and a sound and lighting system that took five hours to set up and three hours to dismantle every night.
so if you’ve watched the infamous reading & leeds show you’ll recognise the “fuck the daily mail” thing, which is because after tbp came out they published satanic-panic-lite type articles calling mcr a suicide cult that promoted self-harm and stuff. you gotta understand that the emo subculture, whether or not it was connected to mcr, was one of the biggest laughing stocks of the noughties. notably, there were a series of riots and hate-crimes in mexico against “emo” kids (largely due to in actuality to homophobia, of course), and mcr would get asked about it so often that they felt like they were being blamed for it and that they needed to apologise for it. gerard in particular has spoken quite a bit about how much he struggled with feeling like tbp was being misinterpreted and taken out of context when it was such a deeply personal album to him. then things got even worse in may 2008, around the end of the tour, when the daily mail reported on the “emo cult” again, this time explicitly linking the tragic suicide of a 13-year-old girl to mcr. obviously this is, like, the antithesis of everything the band stood for, and they took it really hard. it spiralled even further, with gerard making a public statement about it, fans protesting at the daily mail offices, an inquest into the tragic suicide, and the daily mail doubling down and claiming that mcr should be grateful for the extra “publicity” they were getting from all of this. yeah. there’s a long section detailing all of this in not the life it seems, if you can stomach reading it.
the peak of this kind of aligns with the actual end of the black parade world tour in may 2008 in madison square garden. this is another one of those infamous shows - again, there’s an entire section in not the life it seems dedicated to it. it was a dream come true to play msg, especially for gerard and mikey, but they were completely burned out by that point. apparently the show itself was great and they were full of energy, but gerard was speaking to the crowd like the band was about to break up, and apparently the vibes were not great backstage. frank was so nervous about the show that he took a bunch of pills to get through it and has almost no memory of it. after they left the stage, ray found gerard in a dressing room and advised him to take a break or start another band that nobody knew about so it wouldn’t be the end of mcr for good. apparently gerard wrote boy division in the taxi on the way home after that gig but i can’t remember where i read that now so i might be wrong about that bit.
anyway, then none of them really saw each other for several months. frank started leathermouth because he can’t live without touring (ray played with them once too), but besides that the first time they were together again was for ray’s wedding later that summer. according to himself, brian schechter (their manger up until then) was fired over phone the morning after someone’s wedding so i have to assume it was ray’s given the timing lol (unless it was when gerard and lynz had a little ceremony or whatever, idk when that was).
anyway happy ending at least: they got back in the studio in october 2008 in new york to record desolation row for the watchmen movie and had such an amazing time that ray flew down to la (where gerard had recently moved) and he, gerard, and bob jammed around and wrote four new songs in no time. over the next year or two, the rest of mcr followed gerard to la one by one and started working on conventional weapons and they swore it would be a fun album to write and that they wouldn’t put themselves through the black parade recording process again. anyway then they scrapped it last minute to write danger days instead lol.
but yeah like. i think it’s easy to forget now in 2022 just how huge mcr was during parade era, but how they got completely misinterpreted in bad faith by, like, the media and culture as a whole. it’s probably fairly common for bands like them to be kind of misunderstood in their lifetimes but hailed as visionaries years or decades later, so it’s kind of like really fucking exciting to see mcr actually active again during the time when i feel like they’re finally started to get appreciated for what they really are. which is the greatest band in the world if you ask me but i guess i am a little bit biased <3
#spoilers: it did get a little long#most of this information is a summary of the relevant chapters in not the life it seems btw#hope you see this anon! sorry i know you sent the ask a couple of days ago#answered#mcr history#*
443 notes
·
View notes
Text
King Ohger Drinking Headcanons
Made a little list earlier in reply to @stickers-on-a-laptop but then got carried away in my free time at work and did a whole bunch so. Have fun! I love liquor and spirits (in like. A ooh yummy this is cool bartender way and not in a I love getting drunk way) so this was honestly rlly fun to write!
Character headcanons below the cut with some little stories hidden inside lol
Sorry I’m too lazy to fix the formatting I might do it later lol
⁃ Gira isn’t accustomed to drinking, he’s young and was used to being at the orphanage all the time anyways. When he does drink with the kings he either opts for something nonalcoholic like a glass of sparkling cider or whatever someone hands him. Kaguragi likes to mess with him and give him cocktails that he SAYS aren’t alcoholic but… definitely are. (Kagu learned the hard way the first time he messed with him like this that Gira is a lightweight and ended up taking care of him overnight in Shuggodam’s castle. The only person who knows is Douga since Gira doesn’t remember and Kagu refuses to admit he felt bad about the incident or that it even happened)
⁃ Yanma - drinks watered down bud light ass beer for the longest time. He doesn’t like it, but it’s what his mentor drank and he thinks it makes him look cool. That, and it’s cheap. This is all he drinks until Himeno buys everyone a round of her favorite cocktail of the week and he realizes he REALLY likes sweet stuff. He orders fruity drinks all the time “for shiokara” but if you watch carefully they’re always sharing it and he never finishes more than one shitty beer anymore. Kaguragi hasn’t told him abt craft beer and ipas yet but he knows it’ll rock his world. Absolutely forgot to add that if Yanma DOES order a cocktail for himself openly it’ll always be a jack and coke.
⁃ Himeno - Drinks fancy cocktails all day everyday. They’re usually very sweet, sometimes extra dry depending on the mood, and she loves anything with champagne, but despite how they look they’re always a higher percentage than anything the other kings are drinking. She also loves a good wine and savors any sommelier knowledge she receives from Sebastian, Cleo, Elegance, and of course Jeramie. Her dinner parties are always coupled with tasteful optional drinks planned to fit the meal. At least once she has a drinking contest with Kaguragi and absolutely drinks him under the table to everyone’s surprise (except sebas)
⁃ Rita - Rita also doesn’t drink much, as they aren’t a fan of being drunk around others and certainly don’t enjoy the mood that comes with drinking alone, but once they’re closer with the other kings (especially Himeno, as she and Morphonia get Rita to try all kinds of new things together) they branch out into drinking here and there. More often than not, you’ll find Rita at a king celebration nursing a glass of sake, a Smokey whiskey, or some very expensive vodka on the rocks. Don’t knock it till you try it in the cold of gokkan.
⁃ Kaguragi - Kaguragi of course drinks anything hand crafted from Toufu. His favorite are the Nigori sake and Daiginjo Junmai sake made from the Suzume’s tears rice. Of course, he’s also a big fan of mead! He does enjoy a good craft beer on the occasion, and will often drink whatever Himeno is serving at her dinners, even if it’s not his usual taste. He’s just happy to be included and have an opportunity to mess with the others a little given he has the highest tolerance out of anyone other than Himeno and Suzume and finds himself getting more tipsy while the others are already fully drunk.
⁃ Jeramie - Jeramie LOVES wine. He’s been drinking it for a long time and even has some bottles that he found in his mothers things that he’s never opened (that in my heart him and Gira share at their wedding). He tends to drink a rose or any white wines as he’s cautious of spilling red wine onto his suit, but he does love a nice sweet red blend too. Whenever he goes wine shopping in the different kingdoms he brings a bottle of his favorite reds to Himeno as a gift.
⁃ Racles - Big baby with alcohol. Never drank much due to fear of letting down his guard around others. Will drink whatever Suzume gives him but mostly refuses drinks from others even after the end of the story. When he does drink, he loves Suzume’s Nigori sake or a small glass of orange blossom mead. He does his best to be the “DD” for Gira (or whoever else needs it really but he always says he’s only there for Gira) Is a very loving and silly drunk the few times he has been and always gets snuggly with Gira (familially obviously), Suzume, and Kaguragi. Gira gets a bit embarrassed but always welcomes it happily, and suzu and kagu LOVE the attention and a chance to mess with him.
⁃ Douga - douga doesn’t like to drink a lot since he works a lot, but Gira tries to make sure he and his family are invited to celebrations where douga may partake in the occasional light beer (typically whatever Kaguragi brings bc he knows it’s always good). He used to drink a decent amount when he was younger so he tries to gently help Gira make sure he isn’t gonna over do it… Gira does accidentally anyways frequently lol
⁃ Kogane and Boone obviously don’t drink alcohol but Gira still makes them Shirley temples all the time as a treat (my sister used to make them for me when we had sibling sleepovers and watch mean girls so this is mostly for me lol)
⁃ Shiokara usually drinks fruity cocktails because he enjoys sour stuff and sodas, which he now usually ends up sharing with Yanma while he poses like he’s still drinking just his shitty beer. Shiokara is also a lovey dovey drunk, but no one is surprised since he’s also like this when he’s sober. Shio is also often a caretaker after parties, even if he himself is drunk, and finds himself helping with clean up and getting people home hydrated and safe, despite usually needing a place to crash himself (hopefully into yanmas arms-)
⁃ Sebastian doesn’t drink super often as he’s worried he wouldn’t be able to keep up appearances as an older gentleman, but when he’s with just the kings or just the ishibana squad, he doesn’t mind letting the veil drop. He’s unexpectedly a bit of a flirty drunk, but knowing this he’ll usually remove his makeup before drinking just so he doesn’t accidentally creep anyone out. Even regardless of that he’s still very aware and occasionally charmingly over-careful about people’s boundaries. He usually drinks whatever he is helping to prepare for Himeno as it’s what’s available, but his favorite is Spumante champagne.
⁃ Cleo - Cleo is a conniseur of all things ishibanan, her favorites being cocktails made with crème de violette and/or white chocolate crème liquor. She doesn’t get drunk often unless she’s having a girls night with elegance and Himeno (and sometimes sebas), but when she is she somehow ends up very quiet and only speaks to either give the wisest advice you’ve ever heard or something just completely unintelligible to anyone but her.
⁃ Elegance doesn’t drink pretty much unless Cleo does, so they’re about on par there. They like to share drinks with each other on occasion so they can try everything sebas and the chef came up with for a meal or party. The first time she drinks with the other kings however they learn that she used to be a bit of a partier when she was younger and always has stories to tell about this time. Yanma (and sometimes Kagu) like to challenge her to arm wrestling but they pretty much always lose. Yanma definitely always loses.
⁃ Morphonia may have started drinking when she was a teen (just for shits n giggles) but she still has a laughably low tolerance. She tried once to drink whatever Rita’s drinking but that night… did not end well. Not that she didn’t appreciate being waited on by Himeno and Rita themselves. She’s honestly a fan of the light beers Yanma never seems to finish, and she thinks the fact he won’t admit he hates them is funny, so she drinks them for him whenever he leaves one open. I don’t think Yanma ever notices it’s her drinking them, lol. She loves to party, but she’s a very chill drunk, and definitely prefers an edible to a glass of anything.
⁃ Kuroko - will typically have the first glass out of any bottle opens for Kaguragi, mostly for safety, but he tends to enjoy the same as him other than will prefer to have beer more often than any spirit. Doesn’t drink a lot because he likes to stay on guard for Kaguragi (though he usually doesn’t need it lol)
⁃ Suzume CAN outdrink Kaguragi, and is pretty evenly matched with Himeno, but often prefers to pretend to get drunk so she can pull pranks or gossip or do whatever scheme she has her heart set on. She also loves a good Suzume’s tears nigori sake, and will occasionally partake in an edible when offered by morf. The few times she does get genuinely drunk, she almost seems exactly the same and lucid?? People are very confused by this lol
⁃ Gerojim, like other bugnarak, have “strange taste” when it comes to liquor. His favorite drinks, on the rare occasion that he feels comfortable to partake, are VERY light absinthe cocktails with a lot of sugar, a bugnarak-made kelp liquor (yes it exists irl), and buganarak algae beer (which also exists, tho very little of it lol. A French brand made some in 2022 and it’s BLUE). Despite his size, he is definitely a lightweight, and is very careful about how much he drinks as alcohol tends to have a bit of an aphrodisiac-like effect on bugnarak and gerojim gets very embarrassed about his behavior during previous fun-times. (note: this is based in studies showing that rejected male flies may turn to alcohol when offered combined with a cursory glance at articles about alcohol creating pheromone signals in fruit flies as well. No promises that this is perfectly accurate but I think it’s fun LOL)
⁃ Dethnarak tends to avoid alcohol, as he both doesn’t enjoy most of it but also is uncertain as to the effect it may have on him in larger quantities.Some worm-descending bugnarak are incapable of getting drunk and find health benefits to drinking it, and others are highly sensitive to it and can do major damage to their nervous systems when partaking. If he drinks at all, it’s usually a glass of expensive smoked mezcal tequila on the rocks. (See again cursory google search at the effect alcohol can have on earth worms, also the joke of worms being in mezcal lol)
⁃ Iroki, Nephila, and Karras have girls nights in hakabaka whenever they feel like having a little fun. Given its hakabaka, they can really have whatever they want, but iroki tends towards a very sharp Namazake sake like she drank made from the rice grown by the dybowskis, nephila a deep dry red wine like an aged Cabernet Sauvignon, and karras a nice bourbon brûlée like she’d have to keep warm and cozy in gokkan. They get as pleasantly drunk as they wish, no matter how much they drink. Their nights are always fun and maybe… occasionally involve some spice.
⁃ Akka likes a good IPA and will often bring a case of somethin new to try to hang outs with the nkosopa gang. He doesn’t drink a lot in general and tends not to get drunk just by preference.
⁃ Mayuta LOVES coming up with new fruity and sour cocktails with shiokara, but also really loves a good IPA like Akka since he keeps bringing them to hang outs. She gets tipsy at parties but isn’t crazy about being drunk either. She just likes to have fun :)
⁃ Asuba drinks a lot of seltzer drinks, basically whatever nkosopas version of white claws and trulys are. He’s happy to drink whatever Yanma and shio are supplying as long as it’s not his shitty watery beer, though. He likes a good party and drinks a decent amount while gaming with the rest of the squad. He’s definitely a goofy/clumsy drunk, telling a lot of jokes but tripping over his words and himself.
⁃ Bonus: Grub! - grub kinda drinks whatever’s put in front of him and has a surprisingly high alcohol tolerance. A lot of people think he’s a bit of a pothead but he doesn’t actually smoke or do edibles as he’s not a fan of feeling high. He can be a bit of a sad drunk, so he’s grateful to have a higher tolerance to keep himself in check, but he’s still a big softie caretaker at heart and will help clean up after parties with shiokara if he’s sober enough to do so, otherwise he tends to fall asleep easily past a certain point and he’s a VERY heavy sleeper lmao. His favorite drinks are margaritas and lemon drop shots, anything sour!
#super sentai#king ohger#tiny warbles#headcanons#gira hastie#yanma gust#himeno ran#rita kaniska#kaguragi dybowski#racles hastie#and more!#also grub teehee
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
❝ THE PARTNER PROJECT ❞ TEASER
PAIRING → jake sim x fem!reader || GENRE → friends to lovers!au, non-idol!au, dancer!au, fluff, angst || WORD COUNT (of actual fic) → 8-10k
FEATURING → tomorrow x together’s yeonjun; le sserafim’s chaewon and yunjin; nmixx’s lily; ive’s wonyoung and liz; and newjeans’ danielle || WARNINGS → none
SYNOPSIS → being part of the same dance team for two years and counting, jake and y/n have never found the courage to confess to each other about their feelings, until one day, they are forced to grow closer as they just so happen to get paired for the first time as the team prepares for a new performance. and luckily for the both of them, they’ll be partners for the entire season. and who knows? this particular partnership might just evolve and grow into one that will last them a lifetime.
AUTHOR’S NOTE → introducing to you, the teaser for my jake birthday fic for this year! ^_^ i’m really excited to share this one with you guys, so stay tuned. i hope you enjoy <3
“jake totally has a crush on you.”
“chaewon!” you whisper-yelled with wide eyes, “be quiet!”
“he does not!” you continued in a soft yet demanding tone.
“y/n, i’m serious,” yunjin responded. “based on my intuition, i give you a solid 90-percent chance that he actually likes you too. and you know my success rate for these things are high, such as the wonyoung-sunghoon confirmation incident last week!”
“yeah, yeah, i get it,” you playfully rolled your eyes.
after around five minutes, everyone finally arrived in the studio, along with your senior and dance coach, choi yeonjun. however, just as you though you were done with your friends’ jake nonsense, the thumping inside your chest wouldn’t slow down for even two seconds as you watched the man in question step into the room.
he was glowing—you could’ve sworn he was—with that beaming smile of his that was always on his face whenever he hung out with the boys.
oh, how nice it would be to be one of the guys right now.
“okay, everyone, listen here, please!” yeonjun started loudly. “i have important and exciting news. during today’s practice, we’re going to start on a new performance…”
everyone gasped, and smiles lit up the room, followed by a few whispered exchanges.
“…i want us to do something that we don’t do too often, and that is dancing with partners, meaning every guy and girl have to partner up with each other...”
mixed emotions filled the room, and a different expression could be seen on every face as you scanned the people around you—some shocked, some excited, some nervous.
“…this will be a different style than what we’re used to, but i think it’ll be fun. and i’ve been working on the choreography and formations for this dance all week, but i still haven’t picked the partners for it.”
“or—!” danielle raised her hand and began excitedly, “maybe we can pick the partners, since you’ve done a lot already, coach. doing this, you can have a little bit of a break.”
yeonjun thought for a moment, hesitant, “i don’t usually let you pick your own partners for a number of reasons, but i suppose this time wouldn’t be such a bad idea to. go ahead; we’ve been dancing together long enough, i trust you guys.”
danielle, as well as many others’ eyes lit up at the unexpected decision made.
“okay, while i just get some stuff ready for us to start, you all go and begin picking your partners,” yeonjun said. “i’ll give you three minutes, and then we can start.”
having been a team for a while now, it was a habit for you all to work on coming to a decision together, so that’s exactly what you did, somewhat huddling up as partners were being chosen.
“i think me and sunoo have similar styles, so we can go together,” liz suggested, followed by several agreeing nods.
and yunjin just had to go on and say, “and i think jake and y/n dance well together, but we don’t get to see you two dance side by side very often. it would be nice to see you as partners this time.”
you narrowed your eyes at her in a death stare that was as subtle as possible, but she only gave you a smirk with a playful look of pride in her eyes, happy with her suggestion as the rest of the group agreed.
and that was how you ended up by jake’s side—as his dance partner for this season.
you didn’t know if your heart was beating and unsteady hands shaking because of how nervous or how excited you were to be paired with him. but you came to the conclusion that though you had known him and danced in the same team with him for two years now, in this moment, you were so anxious to make the smallest slip up and wanted to do your best at looking good in front of him.
so yes, you were extraordinarily nervous to say the least, and your body couldn’t be more tense with these uncontrollable nerves and feelings locked up inside of you.
and this really didn’t help your case as jake suddenly, yet so delicately and softly, placed his hands on your waist from behind, catching you so off guard that you jumped slightly under his touch.
that was when you snapped back to reality and realised yeonjun was already teaching the choreography.
“sorry,” you felt jake whisper beside your ear from behind. felt, because not only did you hear him, but shivers also rushed down your entire being as jake’s breath brushed against the shell of your ear, and you hoped for the life of you that he wouldn’t get too close so as to hear your rapid heartbeat himself.
being paired with your crush, you would have expected time to pass by more quickly, because ‘time flies when you’re having fun,’ but no. time slowed extremely, because you were so nervous.
being so focused on your own feelings and also trying to pick up the choreography quickly without mistakes, you didn’t fully notice that jake was also struggling because he had similar feelings as you, since he liked you too—a lot.
“what’s going on?” yeonjun asked you both seriously and slightly frustrated.
“sorry, coach,” you apologised.
yeonjun, sceptical, looked at you and jake, who nodded along to everything you had to say, “i want you two to stay behind until you’re able to dance this piece as well as everybody else.”
“yes, coach,” jake said with a nod.
“okay,” yeonjun started assertively to grab everyone’s attention, “let’s end practice here. reminder that we have the retreat tomorrow, and we have to meet here at 10 am. jake and y/n, please clean up the studio when you’re done. i’ll see you all tomorrow.”
and with that, everybody began packing up, and within minutes, your coach and all of your dance mates were gone, leaving just you and jake, alone in the empty studio.
“well, i guess it’s just us,” jake began, breaking the silence as he sent you the softest smile, reminding you of how much your heart ached for him. “should we go over the dance?”
“yeah. actually, can we go over that one part that we were having trouble with? the one that’s like—” you demonstrated the move by lifting your arms and placing them in position.
he made his way, stopping in front of you before placing his hands on your hips.
heat rose to your cheeks, and your arms slowly made their way around his neck, preparing for the following moves.
“ready?” he counted, “five, six, seven, eight—”
you couldn’t keep track of how many times you had run this routine with jake today, but with one last run through the dance, the song finally began to conclude, and you both made your way to your ending position, your body in his arms, faces close as you held the ending pose. and as the music came to an end, you two stayed there for a few more counts, and during that time, you could’ve sworn his eyes rushed down to your lips for a split second.
or maybe not.
either way, you decided to just brush it off and not think about it too much or else you’d potentially be getting your hopes up for nothing.
AUTHOR’S NOTE → here’s a sneak peak into one of the scenes from the fic i’ll be posting for jake’s birthday !! :> it’s a very condensed version of what will be posted tomorrow, but i hope you look forward to it! if you want to be tagged when this fic is posted and you haven’t already joined my taglist, feel free to send an ask, comment on this post, or fill in this form to be added to my permanent taglist. i’m really excited to share this one with you, thanks for looking forward to it!
#enhypen#enhypen imagines#enhypen fluff#enhypen x reader#enhypen scenarios#enhypen oneshots#enhypen fic#enhypen reactions#enhypen x you#jake#jake sim#sim jaeyun#jaeyun x reader#jake x reader#jake fluff#jake imagines#jake scenarios#jake reactions#jaeyun fluff#jaeyun imagines
166 notes
·
View notes
Text
Azul Ashengrotto of Royal Sword Academy || Chapter 4: What Lurks Beneath a Smile
Summary
Azul visits NRC and meets some of the people close to Jamil, who are understandably curious whether they’re dating or not.
In the middle of their hangout, Jamil learns of Azul’s burdens as an RSA student, as Rielle’s friend, and the dire danger that comes with them.
Word Count: 18, 487
A few days later, Jamil is making a meal for himself in the school kitchen. Normally he’d be doing it at Scarabia, but some of the freshmen are currently using the kitchen there. He doesn’t mind, it’ll be good if more of his residents develop an interest in cooking; he’d have more help in preparing their meals.
Ruggie was already there when Jamil arrived, and they've been chatting for a while like they usually do whenever they run into each other here.
But Ruggie doesn't have his usual energy tonight, and it’s obvious that he doesn’t wanna return to Savanaclaw even though it’s getting late already.
Jamil has a pretty good idea why, but he’s not sure what to say, or if he should even say anything. Maybe Ruggie would prefer not to talk about it at all, especially since Jamil wasn’t even there when it happened. All his knowledge of it came from stories he heard floating around.
"You can go ahead, Jamil," Ruggie says when he sees that Jamil has finished cooking. "You can eat over there at the table, I'll clean up here."
"You sure?" Jamil asks, glancing down at the bandages on Ruggie's arm.
Jamil had an injury too, a few weeks back. Cut his own hand while cooking on a night just like this, only for him to find out that it had been Ruggie's Signature Spell to disable him before their interdorm Spelldrive tournament.
But even then, he healed up. In contrast, Ruggie's injury, whatever it was, continued to persist well past all other scrapes and bruises he got during the day of the tournament proper.
"Yeah, man," Ruggie says. "I got this. You can start eatin'. I'll join you in a bit."
Ruggie speaks with his usual light tone, but Jamil can see that he can't use his injured arm as well as the other one, and his eyes are a little glazed and distracted.
Jamil sighs. "As if I'd be comfortable eating while someone else is still doing the work. If you don't want me to sit and watch you, you might as well let me help. You can pay me back by giving me a portion of your food…" He squints at the ingredients. "What're you trying to make here?"
"A'right, fine," Ruggie says. "And I'm just making potato and leek soup." He glances at Jamil's dish. "What did you make?"
"Found some black sea bass from the freezer unit and cooked it with some radishes," he shrugs like it was no big deal. "Decided to try something new while the freshmen are busying themselves with Scarabia's kitchen. Meanwhile, how're the other Savanaclaws gonna survive without your cooking? Leaving your lil' cubs out to starve for the night?" he then teases.
"Jack volunteered," Ruggie says. "He said he'll ask the others to help, too. He and Yuu insisted that I take a break. That lil' Ramshackle runt can be persuasive, y'know? Hand me that spatula," he points to the utensils hanging on hooks.
Jamil did just that, also bringing in any other utensils he knows Ruggie would need for the soup.
As he does so, he hums. "Never thought I'd see the day when Ruggie of all people decides to take a break. Even when we were freshmen, you were already hopping on whatever gig or scheme you could lay your hands on for money's sake."
That was, until Leona came along and he and Ruggie promptly began a give-and-take dynamic. But he feels that it would be inappropriate to bring him up, if the recent rumors of what happened before the tournament were true.
"How have you been coping so far? As someone who had a whole year to adjust, it takes a while to get used to."
"It's been okay," Ruggie shrugs. "Even with my work at Savanaclaw, I still got time to get extra gigs here and there. Sweepin' the stables, weeding the gardens, stuff like that. Oh, by the way, I was looking for you the other day to ask about a recipe, but your Vice Prefect said you'd gone out to buy an outfit for the Autumn Dance. You were out for like the whole day, didja have trouble finding an affordable suit? I can hook you up to some of the clothing stores I know."
"... No need," Jamil coolly replies. "I already got what I was looking for and I doubt I'd need to buy a new set of clothes anytime soon. If I ever do, though, I'll let you know." Though he knows that such advice often comes with a price when it's from Ruggie. "So? What's the recipe you needed help with?"
"Do ya know how to make vegetable dishes tasty?" Ruggie asks. "We have a greenhouse and some gardens here so it's much cheaper to mix vegetables and meat in dishes, but the cubs at Savanaclaw are extremely picky and we always have leftovers that go bad if I try."
Ruggie puts his soup in a bowl and grabs a spoon. "C'mon," he jerks his head towards the table and walks over to it.
As they make their way over to the table, with the ghost chefs tilting their heads at them in greeting as they pass by, Jamil starts informing Ruggie about taking out the bitter taste in vegetables (that's most likely why many of the meat-loving Savanaclaws are averse to them) using the right seasoning, like salt or oil and avoiding cooking methods like boiling when he could roast or stir-fry them instead.
"And you can try mixing them with meat in a way where it's impossible for the others to completely take them out," Jamil cunningly smiles. "Like meatballs, omelettes, pies, cookies… The possibilities are endless. Plus, I'm sure once they've figured out the hidden veggies, they wouldn't complain on account of how tasty you'd make them."
Ruggie snickers. "I knew I could rely on ya. If you need anythin' just let me know!"
Jamil's phone on the table lights up from a text.
Ruggie's gaze falls on the name on the screen and he raises his eyebrow.
"Piano Man?" Ruggie says, downing a spoonful of soup. "Why's a piano guy texting you at this hour?"
Jamil gives Ruggie a small look of warning as he takes his phone. "Good news: I thought of how you're gonna pay me back for my advice. Forget you ever saw that."
Ruggie narrows his eyes in suspicion, then he snickers. "A'right, you can keep your mystery piano man a secret."
Jamil leans back in his seat and reads Azul's message.
Jamil's eyes widen a little in surprise, then they soften.
And with that, he turns his phone off and goes back to his meal, knowing that more time spent texting meant more time getting stared at by Ruggie.
"Anyway," he clears his throat. "What are your plans for the upcoming dance? Would attending it be considered part of your break, too?"
Ruggie stares at his reaction suspiciously for a few seconds, but luckily he lets it go.
"There's free food, Jamil, of course I'm going to the dance! I ain't got beef with RSA, anyway, like you and the others. Bet they got all types'a fancy food, and I don't have to prepare any of it!" Ruggie snickers. "I'm a lil' surprised you're attending, though. Never figured you for one who's into those fancy events."
"Fair enough," Jamil shrugs. "I don't have much beef with RSA either, save for that quiz bee, but that's water under the bridge. I figured it'd be a waste to skip out on a celebration when I intend to live my days here to the fullest however possible. Besides, I'm used to those parties so I'm not averse to them. It'd be interesting to see what an RSA party is like and how it compares to ours. I heard even Idia Shroud might be coming. If you're going to be surprised about anybody, be surprised about him."
"Whoa, Idia Shroud?" Ruggie's eyes widen. "Now that's a rare sight to see. I've been here two years and I think I've only seen him like three times. And hey, look at you bein' mature about that quiz bee! I still hear some guys being salty about it, grumblin' about how that Azul Whatshisface stole victory from us. As if they did any work," Ruggie scoffs.
"I know," Jamil smirks in amusement. "I pity them for not having better things to do with their time… What would you have done, if you had lost like I did?"
"Woulda eaten like two dozen donuts to make myself feel better," Ruggie says immediately. "What did you do? I was gonna ask you to hang out after the confetti but ya disappeared. Ya didn't sneak off and kill Azul, didja?" he snickers.
"Hm-hm, who knows?" was all Jamil replies with, slyly taking another bite from his meal. "Also, I wouldn't exactly call you mature, either, considering how you… yanno… " he gestures to his hand, where a faint scar can be seen. "... The lengths you were willing to go to keep me off the field 'cause you perceived me as a threat."
Ruggie's smirk melts off his face, and he looks down at his bowl that was almost empty.
"Yeah… Sorry about that…" he mutters. Then he looks up at Jamil again with a humorous smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I was a real asshole, wasn't I? Not gonna happen again."
He takes his bowl in both hands and downs the remaining soup in one gulp.
"I'm gonna clean up," Ruggie stands up and claps Jamil on the shoulder, then makes his way to the sink.
Jamil watches Ruggie rise and walk to the sink, quiet. He knew he had to get to the conversation somehow.
"... Will you be heading back to your dorm after this? Or do you have other places to sleep in for the night?"
Ruggie starts washing the dishes and takes his time answering.
"I dunno yet," he mumbles as the faucet runs. "I'll decide later."
Jamil finishes his food and moves to the sink.
If he and Ruggie are similar in nature, then Jamil knows Ruggie is going to hate this... but maybe not as much as he would believe.
Color him blasphemous but from recent experiences, talking things out haven't been as bad as he thought.
He settles on the space next to the hyena, voice quiet and sincere. "What happened? Back before the tournament began."
Ruggie purses his lips and doesn't look at him.
"What do you already know?" he asks quietly.
"Other than the fact that all the 'accidents' leading up to it had been a dorm-wide scheme, none," Jamil replies. "I've been hearing rumors but I don't like paying them much heed."
He glances at Ruggie and his arm. "... I can try to guess, though."
Ruggie casts a sideways glance at him, quietly waiting for him to continue.
"Out of all the rumors, one stayed too consistent to simply be baseless speculation." Jamil quietly explains. "Leona, he... The delinquent drove himself into an Overblot."
He gestures to Ruggie's injury. "I'm guessing he did something to you in the heat of the moment, something even harsher than a normal spell or attack, otherwise you'd have healed already."
Ruggie's lower lip trembles, but he bites down on it and nods.
"His…" his voice breaks and he clears his throat. "His Signature Spell. He can turn anything to sand. And when he was… Overblotting… the bastard started monologuing about how he didn't need me and shit, and, well… at some point he kinda tried to kill me," Ruggie lifts his injured arm. "So…"
Jamil winces. "Seriously? Bastard... as if he doesn't know who's been making his life easy around here..."
He looks closely at the bandages and frowns at a realization. Ruggie has never let injuries get the best of him before.
"Something tells me that the injury doesn't hurt you as much as what Leona said." He muses. "You wouldn't have avoided talking about him since then if it hadn't. After all, the other Savanaclaws were there when he Overblotted, but they're being as chummy with him as ever after it's all said and done."
Ruggie finishes washing the dishes and dries his hands on a towel. He leans against the sink and crosses his arms.
"I stayed until after I was sure he's recovered enough," Ruggie says quietly. "But after that… Well, an errand boy's always busy doing work around the campus. And Leona had never been good at starting conversations even when people aren't avoiding him…" Ruggie laughs bitterly. "So we're here. Well, I'm here. I don't care where he is…"
"And you don't have to. If he doesn't wanna talk, then he can have it his way." Jamil huffed. "... If you need a place to stay, we've got spare rooms in Scarabia. I know you don't want to seem like you're running away, but sometimes that distance is needed. You can take it from me."
Ruggie nods. "Thanks, Jamil. I… I think I wanna talk, though…" his voice fades so quietly that Jamil had to strain to hear it. Ruggie chuckles mirthlessly again. "Stupid, right? Guy almost disintegrates my arm and I still care so much about him…"
He takes a shaky breath, and continues speaking in a whisper. "He was in so much pain, Jamil… I don't ever wanna see him like that again. But I don't… I don't know how…" his voice breaks and he shuts his eyes tight.
Jamil's face becomes indecipherable as his brows furrow, then slowly and almost hesitantly, his arm reaches out to give Ruggie a side-hug, glancing around to make sure no one else is snooping in on them before looking back at the hyena.
"It's... good that you wanna talk to him after everything, but if he's not ready then it's not up to you to do everything for him. Give him time, and while you do that, go do some stuff for your sake. Sevens know you deserve it… Honestly, I didn't realize you guys had gotten so close. I was there when you first met him and man, you both looked like you were about to tear each other's throats out. I still remember how you freaked out when he first summoned you to his room."
In an attempt to lighten the mood, he makes an effort to mimic Ruggie's voice. "'He's gonna kill me, I just know it, Jamil. When I disappear from class the next day, you have to come looking for my corpse, okay!?'"
A small laugh bursts out of Ruggie, and he sniffles, opening his eyes again. "I can't believe you remember that." He sighs. "It feels like a lifetime ago."
Ruggie stays quiet for a few moments, then playfully elbows Jamil. "And I didn't realize that you were so down for dramatic talks. When did that happen?"
"I could ask the same about you," Jamil shoots back at him. "I was half-expecting you to put up a fight before admitting anything close to what you told me... Guess I found that those talks hadn't been so bad once the icky part of being all vulnerable is said and done."
Ruggie shrugs. "I guess I'd been wanting to talk about it to someone. And you're the one who asked so I figured it'll be your fault if I ever said anything you didn't wanna hear. Besides, if you blab about this to anyone, I can always get you back by telling everyone about your secret piano man text pal."
Jamil narrows his eyes at him. "Be careful. Spreading his presence might bring his wrath down upon you, not mine." He says this without malice, then chuckles as he shakes his head. "Your secret's safe with me. What're you feeling now?"
Ruggie sniffles and rubs his eyes, grinning. "I feel like I can sleep peacefully in Savanaclaw tonight. Thanks, Jamil, really. Enjoy the half day tomorrow."
Ruggie claps him on the back and starts to walk away.
"No prob, Rug. Enjoy the half day tomorrow yourself," Jamil smiles at him, then moves to finish his dishes by the sink.
The miracle of a talk is astounding, frankly.
Jamil adjusts his backpack on his shoulders as he enters the Scarabia lounge. Classes had finished and he's on his way to his room, then a voice he never expected to hear in this place calls his name.
"Jamil!"
He turns around in time to get tackled by a lanky young girl.
Najma lets him go from the embrace and smiles cheekily at him. "Betcha didn't see that coming, huh?"
Jamil blinks wildly down at her before his jaw drops.
"N-Najma!? What the— What are you DOING here!?"
He puts his hands on her cheeks and inspects her from head to toe, wondering if it's a trick or a trap.
"Hey!" Najma playfully swats his hands away. "Our school has a field trip here today, one of the most prestigious colleges, y'know? I didn't tell you because I wanted it to be a surprise. So, surprise!"
Najma grins up at him.
"A fieldtrip?" Jamil asks, finding it almost hard to believe but there was no other explanation for why she could be here out of nowhere. "Then… what are you doing here away from your schoolmates?!"
"Relax!" Najma chides. "I asked our teacher for permission to swing by here! She knows you're my brother so she allowed me. I gotta get back to them now, though. But later we'll be given free reign as long as we won't be wandering alone! Catch you then?"
"I... suppose, though if you're expecting a tour guide around the school, you'll have to ask someone else. I'm heading out later to the town at the base of the mountain."
"Oh, why? Whatcha doing?"
"I'm gonna be meeting up with someone there." Jamil replies vaguely, already dreading having his little sister pry more information out of him.
Najma narrows her eyes at him and slowly nods. "Okay, okay, if you say so…"
Then she gives him a quick hug again. "See you later!" And she runs off.
Jamil, still awkward around physical affection (despite all his years growing up with Kalim), stood stiff as Najma hugged him.
He watches her leave, then checks his watch before texting Azul.
His phone lights up about a minute later as he's making his way to his room.
Nearing the cafeteria, he notices that the students suddenly hush around him.
He looks around curiously and sees that Azul is walking towards the entrance. He's wearing a light blue long-sleeved button up shirt and black slacks, but it seems like the students still recognize him even without his uniform.
People stare and conversations stop as he goes past. Azul doesn't seem to mind, though. He just keeps walking like he normally does, like he doesn't even notice the other students.
"Hey asshole!"
A sandwich flies through the air and hits Azul square in the chest, splattering meat and tomato sauce all over his white uniform.
He stops walking.
"You got the nerve to show your face here after what ya did?" The thrower steps up to Azul, and Jamil notices the Scarabia band around his arm.
He walks closer and recognizes it as his fellow Second Year, Orfeo, the one who's just barely passing his classes.
The other students seem to take a step back, but the crowd is beginning to thicken.
"I have the Headmage's permission for my visit," Azul says calmly with a polite smile.
Orfeo scoffs. "I don't give a damn if you got the Great Seven's permission. Ya don't belong here. The exit is that way," he points to the direction of the school gate.
"I'm afraid that I have some more business here," Azul says, unfazed. "You'll have to tolerate my presence for a little while longer."
Orfeo takes out his Magic Pen and points it threateningly at Azul's face. "Get out."
Faster than Jamil can react, Azul grabs Orfeo's wrist and twists his arm behind his back.
"I will," Azul continues in his calm tone, standing behind Orfeo. "Just give me a few minutes, my friend."
"Ohhhh…!" say a few of the students, some wincing at the smooth takedown while others watch in amazement.
Jamil sighs, walking forward and proceeding to separate the both of them.
He sharply turns to the fellow Scarabia before him. "What the hell do you think you're doing? RSA or not, assaulting a visitor that the Headmage himself acknowledged is grounds for suspension. What if the younger students from the Scalding Sands saw this behavior while they're in the middle of their tour?" He crosses his arms, stern. "Apologize."
His resident looks baffled at his remarks.
"B-But Prefect, this is the guy that stole your win, right? Why are you taking his side?"
"Because I'm not a petulant child who throws a tantrum over what's already happened," he replies, then remembers that he sorta did have a tantrum. But it at least didn't last very long. "Azul here is an honored guest by the Headmage, me, and Jade Leech. If you have a bone to pick with him, then you have a bone to pick with the three of us. Now, are you gonna run along or am I gonna have to report this to Crowley?"
Orfeo stammers for a bit, looking at him and Azul in turn, then runs away.
Jamil loses the scowl and turns to Azul, noticing the stain on his clothes. He clicks his tongue. "How unfortunate... What a waste of perfectly good food."
Azul raises his eyebrows. "Well, I'm glad you know your priorities."
He looks down at his shirt and a frown creases his forehead.
"I didn't bring a change of clothes," he mutters.
Jamil feigns surprise at seeing Azul. "Oh, it's you."
Then he playfully smiles. "Didn't seem like you needed anyone worrying about you. You looked like you could've gotten it all handled but... Couldn't let you get the entire spotlight now."
He takes out his pen and magics most of the mess away, leaving only a faint red stain.
"Here, so you don't have to run around looking like you just recovered from being shot in the chest." He muttered, taking off his grey blazer and passing it over to him.
Since he still had his hoodie on, he was well-dressed enough even without the extra layer so he didn't mind.
Azul looks surprised, but he takes the blazer and wears it, covering up the stain.
"Thank you," he gives Jamil a small smile, and looks around at the crowd of students still staring at them. More than a handful of them are wide-eyed at Jamil's gesture.
Azul hides it well but Jamil could see in the tension in his shoulders that he's uncomfortable with the attention.
Jamil's pretty tense with it as well, but he knows that no one would interfere with them at this point.
"Let's head somewhere else then, yes?" He tries to look relaxed as he puts his hands in his pockets. "Come on, let's get outta here."
Jamil leads Azul to the corridors outside, then his phone rings in his pocket.
He stops walking, giving Azul a signal to pause for a bit, then takes his phone to see who was contacting him.
Ruggie's name is flashing on the screen.
Jamil raises an eyebrow at this. He looks at Azul.
"Hold on, I have to take this."
He politely walks a few steps forward to answer the call and puts the phone to his ear. "Ruggie?"
"Hey," Ruggie's voice says. "I found your sister."
"Hey, Jamil~!" Najma's voice says from a bit further away.
"Apparently it's their free time now from the tour, and she stopped by the kitchens looking for you. Viper junior here says she wants to help me cook. Wanna hang with us?"
Jamil pauses, contemplating before he looks up at Azul. "A friend of mine's asking if I wanna go cook something with them in the school kitchens. We'll have to go back to the cafeteria to get there, though. Do you have anywhere else you need or wish to go first?"
Azul shakes his head. "No, I'm free for the rest of the day. And cooking with your friends does sound lovely. Is it alright if I help as well?" he smiles.
Jamil's glad Azul doesn't seem so miffed about the cafeteria incident anymore.
"Sure. Come on, then," And he begins to make his way back to the crowded dining area. "Do you cook often?"
“Not as often as I’d like,” Azul says. “If I had the time, I’d open some sort of cafe. But as things stand now, I’m always too busy for such things.”
They pass by the cafeteria again, and Jamil isn’t surprised that the students’ eyes are following them.
What does surprise him is the change in energy. The looks thrown in Azul’s way are less wary and suspicious and more like… fascinated? Some of the students actually smile to their friends when they catch sight of Azul, while others are whispering excitedly among themselves.
Jamil glances around the room, slightly unsettled by the attention. Whether it was positive or negative, he decides any attention still makes him uneasy, so he hurries along to the kitchen doors. As soon as they're inside, he lets out an exhale.
"Well..!" He mutters. "That was unexpected..."
"Indeed," Azul glances back with furrowed eyebrows in the direction they came from. "What was that about? Were they actually smiling?"
"That's what it looked like. But what they were smiling about, I'm not sure…“ He squints at Azul. "They seemed to be looking at you, though. Did you do something in the short time you were there somehow?"
"No," Azul looks even more confused. "After my meeting with Jade, I headed straight for the cafeteria. I never even spoke to anyone else. Perhaps it was you they were smiling at?"
"Eugh, I hope not," Jamil shudders at the thought. “This kind attention from his schoolmates could never lead to anything good. "Whatever. They're not bothering us anymore so that's all that matters in the end, I guess. Anyway..." He glances around the kitchen for any sign of Ruggie and Najma. "... This is the first I've heard of you wanting to own a café."
Azul shrugs. “It’s not like I’m actively working towards it. So there isn’t much to talk about.” He gives his usual polite smile, but Jamil detects the resignation in his tone.
Jamil spots them by one of the stoves. Ruggie seems to be cooking while Najma is sitting on the counter and chatting with him.
He falls quiet. As long as Najma and Ruggie haven't noticed them yet…
His voice dropping low into a quiet mutter, he asks Azul, "Why not? It's what you want to do, right?"
“It’s not that simple, I’m afraid,” Azul says, still maintaining the smile. “And why are we being quiet?” He asks and looks around, matching Jamil’s change in volume.
"But why can't it be that simple?" Jamil asks, bothered by this side of Azul.
"Oh! There he is!" Najma greets, noticing them and holding up her hand to wave. Then she pauses. "Huh? Hey, who's that?"
Ruggie looks over to them at Najma's question, and his eyes widen.
"No way," he turns off the stove and walks towards them, then points to Azul. "You're that RSA dude, right? Azul… Something?"
Azul smiles and holds up a hand to Ruggie. "Azul Ashengrotto. Pleased to meet you."
Ruggie looks surprised for a second before shaking Azul's hand. "Uh, yeah. Ruggie Bucchi."
"RSA?" Najma hops off the counter and walks over to them as well, eyeing Azul. Then she turns to Jamil. "Is that your blazer he's wearing?"
"Someone threw food at him and tomato sauce tends to leave a stain, so…" Jamil answers, crossing his arms. "What have you two been getting up to? And Najma, since when did you know Ruggie of all people?"
“I was looking for you in the kitchen,” Najma replies. “But I found him instead. So I asked him if he knew you, and then he called you and here we are!”
“Wait wait,” Ruggie looks confused. “Since when do you two hang out?”
"Since Floyd forcibly roped me along into a merman reunion," Jamil smoothly replies. "He came here to meet up with Jade over something and now he's free and wanted to cook along. This is the least I could do to make up for one of my members chucking food at him. Any problem with that?"
“Chill out!” Ruggie says, holding his hands up. “I was just asking, dang.”
“Ooh, you’re a merman?” Najma says in fascination. “I’ve never met a merman before! Najma Viper, Mr. Azul, sir!” she sticks out her hand. “That grump over there is my brother,” she nods her head towards Jamil.
Azul chuckles and shakes Najma's hand. "Pleased to meet you, Miss Najma."
"Okay, now that introductions are done, let's go do what we came here to do." Ruggie waves them over to the stove and he continues to stir-fry vegetables.
“What your resident did was out of your control, you know,” Azul tells Jamil pointedly as they walk to join Ruggie. "There is nothing to make up for.”
“Yeah,” Najma looks at Jamil suspiciously. “Who knew you had such a kind soul, brother?”
Jamil seems to cringe at the word. "I wasn't being so kind as much as I was being responsible. I think anyone would do the same in my shoes."
Ruggie shrugs and does a seesaw motion with his hand. "I dunno about that, but sure."
"Speaking of responsible..." Jamil turns to fuss over his sister. "You're lucky it was Ruggie of all people you talked to. What have I told you about approaching random strangers, Najma? If anything bad were to happen to you…"
“It’s fine, Jamil,” Najma punches him playfully on the arm. “I saw Ruggie’s uniform so I knew he was a student and maybe he knew you. Besides, you taught me well on how to defend myself! You don’t need to worry so much.”
“Yeah, man,” Ruggie agrees. “If you’re the one who taught her to fight, then if anyone here chucks food at her, they’ll be no match.” He glances at Azul. "It's a good thing you got time to hang with us, Azul. You're not busy over there at RSA?"
"Not today, no," Azul replies. "We have no classes today since most of us are attending to the Autumn Dance preparations, including the professors. And I've finished my committee duties and piano rehearsals this morning, fortunately.”
Ruggie’s ears perk up and he turns to face Azul. “You play the piano?”
Azul nods. “I was assigned to play a few songs at the dance; the rehearsals are part of my routine.”
“Huh!” Ruggie says exaggeratedly. “Interesting. And uh, has Jamil heard you play?”
“Once, the other day,” Azul smiles at the memory. “He caught me playing a simple song at the department store piano.”
“Huh,” Ruggie says again, subtly smirking at Jamil. No doubt remembering what Jamil said about going out to buy an outfit for the dance. “Cool, cool, good to know.”
Jamil rolls his eyes, aware of where Ruggie had been going with his line of questioning.
"What're you cooking now?" He eyes the vegetables, pretending he hadn't heard all that. "Are these for those cubs of yours?"
"Cubs?" Najma repeats, confused.
“I cook for the residents of my dorm, Savanaclaw,” Ruggie explains. “This dish ain’t for them, though.” he looks at Jamil. “I’m trying out some recipes following your advice the other night, mixing vegetables into meat. Right now I’m making tacos, just a small batch to see if I get the taste right. There’s enough for four people, though, so y’all can have some, too.”
Ruggie mixes in some cooked ground beef with the vegetables and turns to Azul. “You’re helping, right? Line up those taco shells on the tray over there.”
“Oh, of course,” Azul rolls up his sleeves and walks over to the sink a little farther from them to wash his hands.
Najma walks next to Jamil and whispers. “He’s pretty cute. What’s your deal with him?”
Jamil raises an eyebrow at Najma's before quietly gazing at Azul, whispering his own reply. "He's a friend. Why? Also if you're gonna lurk here, you should help out, too."
“I am helping!” Najma whispers. “I was the one who told Ruggie what spices to add in the ground beef. But more importantly, is Azul the friend you said you were meeting in town today?”
"... Well, I thought we'd be going to the town after his errand here but it seems like he's fine with seeing more of this place," Jamil explains. "What of it?"
“He’s wearing your blazer,” Najma says pointedly, as if it should be obvious what she’s talking about. “In all our lives, I have never seen you lend anyone any of your clothes. Ever. And he’s from RSA? As in the rival of your school? You always avoid any source of potential intrigue, and now here you are being besties with an RSA guy. Also you’ve been awfully defensive ever since Ruggie called you out for hanging out with him.”
"Yeah, well…" Jamil started, fumbling over his thoughts to think of something to say and coming up with none. "So?"
A smile appears on Najma's face, and her eyes are practically glowing. "So, he's not just a friend to you, is he? That is so cool!" she excitedly whispers, eyeing Azul who is now currently talking with Ruggie while he arranges the taco shells on a tray lined with wax paper.
"If you want, I can try to find out if he likes you back," Najma adds, leaning towards Jamil conspiratorially.
"What?!" Jamil quietly hisses, feeling warmth rush into his face. "No, you will not! Get back h—"
But Najma has already begun slinking to Azul's other side, pretending to be interested in his work.
“Do you like cooking, Mr. Azul?” Najma asks, standing next to him.
“I do,” Azul smiles. “I grew up watching my mother cook, and I’ve developed a fondness for it.”
“I grew up cooking with my brother! I enjoy it, too!” Najma smiles back. “The dance that you’re preparing for, will you be helping with the catering?”
“I’m part of the committee that decides on the menu, yes, but I won’t be helping with the actual cooking,” Azul says.
“What kinda food would be there?” Ruggie asks with interest. “Is it gonna be a buffet? I gotta prepare my plan of attack.”
“NRC’s invited! That’s great!” Najma says excitedly.
“Indeed,” Azul smiles. “And yes, it will be a buffet. Drinks and desserts included.”
“Aw heck yeah!” Ruggie says and pops a piece of beef into his mouth. “Oh this is almost done. We’ll have tacos in a minute, kids!”
“Looks like Mr. Ruggie’s pretty hyped about the dance. Maybe you should ask him to be your date,” she says jokingly to Azul, watching carefully for his reaction.
Azul chuckles. “Ah, well, your brother has already asked me that. I’m going to the dance with him.”
Najma gasps softly and her eyes widen.
Ruggie dissolves into a coughing fit, almost choking on the food that he had tasted again. He thumps his chest with his fist a few times.
“WHAT!?” He whips around to stare incredulously at Jamil.
Jamil has his hoodie up, finding the kitchen window extremely interesting to watch right now.
"Jamil?" Azul sounds concerned. "Are you all right? I'm sorry, I... I thought it was alright to mention..." his voice fades out uncertainly.
"It's fine," Jamil says, his small voice trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.
Wow, that windowsill is really clean. Whoever dusted that deserves a reward.
The pan sizzles.
"Oh crap," Ruggie says and turns off the stove. "A'right that's enough about Jamil's love life. Now I need y'all to see if this is good enough for vegetable-hating beastmen."
He quickly finishes preparing the tacos and carries the tray to one of the tables.
"Come along, kids."
Najma tugs Jamil by his shirt and they all follow Ruggie.
Jamil ends up sitting next to Najma and across from Azul. Ruggie is sitting next to Azul and across from Najma.
He hears the crunch of taco shells and looks up to see Ruggie and Najma eating already. He sneaks a glance at Azul.
The merman is doing his best to maintain a posture worthy of an RSA student, but his eyes are cast down on his taco that remains uneaten, his fingers tapping restlessly on the shell.
Jamil, still feeling mighty embarrassed, knew that people were eventually going to find out, anyway.
He was able to break the news to Rielle and Floyd, but that was because they phrased it as a platonic date.
Meanwhile, Najma and Ruggie are both operating under the assumption that he asked Azul out in a romantic way, which isn't the case.
And yet he didn't say so and explain himself. He probably should.
But a part of him doesn't want to because he knew it'd be fruitless to convince Najma and he'd just waste his energy.
... Is that really the reason, though?
After what his little sister said, his brain begins to review the moments and signs around him. Taking a step back and viewing it from an outsider's perspective, he has to admit that he can see where she's coming from.
But does he really like Azul that way?
…
He sighs, then takes off his hood and takes a bite of the taco, chewing slowly to properly taste the flavors.
"Oh I love it," Najma says, halfway through her food. "You have nothing to worry about your cubs now."
She turns to Azul. "What do you think, Mr. Azul?"
"Hm?" Azul looks distractedly at Najma. "Oh." He takes a bite of the taco and chews it carefully.
"You've done a good job incorporating the vegetables in," he says to Ruggie. "The texture and taste complement each other, and the cilantro makes it taste more refreshing and less greasy. Though if I may, if your goal is to persuade your dorm mates to eat anything, then presentation is a significant factor. You can plate this taco with some dipping sauce at the side, perhaps even fruit slices if they aren’t opposed to that. If the dish is visually appealing, it would immediately be appetizing at first look."
Ruggie nods. "Yeah, that makes sense. They teach fine dining classes at RSA or something?"
"They do," Azul replies. "Though I learned most of my food knowledge from my mother. She owns a restaurant and pays extra attention to food presentation."
"Ooh! Can we go there?" Najma asks excitedly.
"Ah, it's underwater, so you will need to take potions beforehand to be able to breathe and survive the pressure," Azul explains. "If you're ever willing to go through that trouble, I'm sure my mother would be happy to welcome you."
"Sounds like a good summer plan," Ruggie snickers.
Najma turns to Jamil and pokes his shoulder. "Hey. Can you speak now? You're okay, right?"
"Mm-hm," Jamil hums, though he finished his taco first before saying anything further. "Tasty as always, Ruggie. I'm not sure if the visuals are too necessary, considering who you're feeding it to. Make it too fancy and your members might find it a bit alienating… and then there are those who won't care either way. They're already familiar with how your food tastes, so it's not like they need visual bait to lure them in."
"Psh, you're just saying that 'cause your meals are always brown and boring," Najma huffs, turning to Ruggie as Jamil opens his mouth in offense. "Don't listen to him. Making food look as good as they taste will get you far, I just know it!"
"Then I declare this a success!" Ruggie says, doing a voice that reminded Jamil of Riddle. "Thanks, guys. Even though it's really just Azul who helped with the actual cooking. You got a good one there, Jamil. Don't let him go."
Najma nods vigorously, chewing on her food.
Azul clears his throat. "I think Jamil is becoming quite uncomfortable with the jokes for now. Perhaps we can pick another topic to discuss, such as Ruggie's exceptional talent in the kitchen. If you have any dish you would like to have at the buffet, let me know and I'll tell the rest of the committee. I'm confident we can trust your judgment."
"I'll hold you to that," Ruggie points at him.
"Does it make you uncomfortable, though, Mr. Azul?" Najma says, undeterred. "When we talk about you and Jamil being each other's date for the Autumn Dance?"
Azul looks caught off-guard by the question. He blinks, then opens his mouth to speak—
"Oh my word!" a familiar voice cuts him off, and Jamil looks up to see Crowley approaching their table. "If it isn't RSA's very own Azul Ashengrotto!"
Azul stands up and graciously holds out a hand, his standard polite smile on his face. "Sir Dire Crowley."
Crowley shakes his hand enthusiastically. "Oh how honored I am to be in the presence of a future member of the Coral Sea's royal court!"
Jamil notices that Azul tenses up at that.
"Huh?" Ruggie says. "Azul?"
"Why, yes!" Crowley turns Azul and holds him by the shoulders as if Crowley's presenting him to them. "You're looking at Prince Rielle Triton's royal advisor!"
Crowley lowers his voice to a conspiratorial mumble. "Because it's too early to say whether you'll be his king, hm?" he chuckles merrily, not waiting for Azul to respond. "But no matter! Whether you'll be king of the oceans or a trusted right-hand man, the important thing is you'll have a seat at the royal court! Isn't that right?" he grins expectantly under his mask.
"Yes, sir," Azul nods with a smile. But Jamil has seen his real smile plenty enough times to notice that this one is strained. His eyes are guarded, his jaw too tense.
Azul's posture is perfect, his back straight and his hands behind him. Jamil could just see from this angle that Azul is gripping his left wrist with his right hand, digging his fingernails in as he smiles in supposed agreement with Crowley.
The royal advisor? Future king?
Jamil recalls the brief conversation he had with Azul about his cafe and how hasty he was to drop it.
All of a sudden, pieces started to click together as he stares at the merman in surprise.
"Royal court?" Najma asks, innocently unaware of the hidden layer of tension. "There's a royal family in the bottom of the ocean?"
"Najma, we've been taught this," Jamil mumbles.
"We have..? Oh, right. I remember now. The Tritons! WAIT! You're associated with royalty, Mister Azul!?"
Ruggie lowly whistles. "Dang, welcome to the club."
Azul nods, his polite smile unwavering. "Yes, Prince Rielle is a childhood friend of mine."
"How wonderful, isn't it?" Crowley says. "Well, I shall leave you all to your meals now. Until next time, Mr. Ashengrotto!" he claps Azul on the back and walks away, his cape fluttering behind him.
"Can you point me to the nearest vending machine?" Azul says to no one in particular, looking around. "The taco was quite flavorful, and I should like a drink to wash it down," he gestures to his plate, and Jamil notices the blood on the tips of his fingernails.
Before Jamil could say anything, Ruggie casually gestures over to the hallway outside. "Oh, take a right as soon as you exit and then as long as you keep on walking, you'll eventually find it in a corner leading to the courtyard."
"Thank you," Azul says. "Oh, do any of you want anything from there? My treat, since you were gracious enough to feed me tacos."
"Ooh, I'd like some milk tea, please!" Najma happily chimed in.
Ruggie wrinkles his nose and waves a languid hand in the air. "Any drink's fine, s'long as I don't have to pay for it."
Jamil did not know what to say as he's still trying to figure out a strategy, so he just shakes his head. "M'good..."
Azul nods. "All right, I shall be right back." he turns and leaves the cafeteria.
"Why did you say 'welcome to the club' earlier to Azul?" Najma asks Ruggie. "Are you associated with royalty?"
Ruggie begins rambling about Leona, and Jamil notices that Ruggie doesn't seem to mind talking about him anymore, but he's too lost in his own thoughts to pay much attention.
At some point, Jamil realizes that their chatter has stopped, and he glances up to see them staring at him.
"Well?" Najma asks, lacing her hands under her chin.
"Well what?"
"Are you gonna go and chase after him?"
Jamil squints at her in suspicion. "And why would I do that?"
"Hello? He's set for marriage with a sea prince when YOU have been harboring feelings for him! Are you just gonna let him run away!? Go!"
Jamil scoffs, willing to spite his sister by staying rooted in his seat when he suddenly notices Ruggie's expression.
"You should talk to him," Ruggie gestures with a jerk of his head, looking serious as he taps his nose. "My nose never lies and I smelled metal on his hands when he left. You know something we don't, so go. I think he needs it."
Jamil stares at the hyena before making a nod and standing up to head over to Azul.
"Huh? Wait, what's going on?" Najma asks after she watches her brother leave the room entirely.
"Drama talk, lil' Viper, the hallmark of a true romance," Ruggie grins, slipping back to his easygoing nature.
"Drama talk? My brother!?" Najma remarks, incredulous, before standing up from her seat. "Have you met him, Mister Ruggie!?"
The hyena shrugs. "I know, I know, but take it from me, Jamil ain't that bad at it."
Najma slowly sits back down, looking genuinely doubtful. "Okay... But if they take too long, we're gonna go look for them, alright?"
Jamil goes to the direction of the vending machine that Ruggie mentioned, hoping that Azul really did go there.
He sees him in front of it, hands in his pockets and staring at the machine with an expression too serious for someone who just wants to wash down a taco.
Jamil silently comes up to him, not bothering to hide his presence.
Azul doesn't notice. He's still staring at the glass of the vending machine but not making any movements to purchase anything.
Jamil takes a deep breath.
Then softly, he announces himself. "Hey, you."
Azul gets startled and looks at him. He blinks, and in an instant his posture is proper. That strained smile is plastered on his face again.
"Jamil. Have you changed your mind about the drink? Which one do you want?" Azul looks at the array of options.
"What do I want?"
Jamil leans against the vending machine, hands in his hoodie's pockets as he gives Azul a concerned look.
"I want to hear how you're doing. I can see when you're faking it, you know."
Azul looks conflicted for a moment, then he purses his lips and averts his eyes.
"I'm…" he sighs. "How are you so sure? This is only the fourth time we've even seen each other."
"I know what it's like to put on airs for other people," Jamil replies, then continues more quietly, "Besides, I've gotten to see for myself what a real smile looks like on your face. So…"
Azul meets his gaze, and for a moment there's a glimpse of that real smile.
"There it is," Jamil points out, feeling himself grin, too.
A small laugh bubbles out of Azul, and his shoulders relax. "I think… I just want some time to be… not what everyone expects me to be."
"Then let's do just that," Jamil says encouragingly. "If there's anything NRC's done for me, it's given me the space I needed to do what I wanted to do, so tell me, Azul... What do you desire the most at this very moment?"
Azul furrows his eyebrows in thought, chewing his bottom lip. "I'm not sure, exactly… That sounds bad, doesn't it?" he chuckles softly. "Um… Perhaps I should decide on which drink I want first. And I don't want to keep Ruggie and Najma waiting for theirs."
Jamil shrugs, content to have hopefully at least nudged him in the right direction.
He patiently waits next to the merman as he deals with the machine.
Azul straightens up with four drinks in his arms and hands one to Jamil.
He looks down at the bottle and sees that it's blond roast coffee.
"I remember that it's what you had at the cat café," Azul says. "I thought you might still like it."
"Indeed. My tastes haven't changed since then," Jamil quips. "Thanks. What did you get? Same drink as what you got in the café, too?"
Azul shakes his head. "No, just sparkling water. I don't wanna get something with a lot of calories. Shall we get back to the others?"
Jamil nods. "Let's."
But as soon as they round the corner, they run into Najma and Ruggie, who are trying to look as casual as possible.
"Oh, heeeeeeey, you two!" Najma greets. "We were… uh… just on our way to check up on you! You were taking a while!"
"Ah, my apologies for taking too long," Azul says, handing milk tea to Najma and fruit juice to Ruggie. "Shall we get back inside?"
Jamil squints at the both of them as they receive their drinks, then he relaxes, deciding to let it go for now.
"Actually, why don't we walk around?" he asks Azul and Najma. "Ruggie and I can show you a lot of NRC's facilities that no mere tour guide can provide. What do you two think?"
"That sounds lovely," Azul smiles.
"Oh sure," Najma turns to Ruggie. "He won't be a tour guide for me but when it's for Azul…" she shakes her head and gives Ruggie a look that says, "Can you believe this guy?"
"Ah, young love," Ruggie teases.
Jamil rolls his eyes, ignoring them to walk on ahead.
He leads them out of the main campus building, and as they walk along the steep steps to the lower cliff area, he turns to Azul. "Ah. By the way, what did you and Jade talk about?"
Azul adjusts his glasses. "Jade informed me that he remains the sole member of the Mountain Lovers Club, and he wants to promote it so that more of your schoolmates would be encouraged to join.
I suggested that he put up some sort of shop in Octavinelle, since it would be easier to manage if it's just in his dorm. He mentioned his fondness for mushrooms, and that he could pick them and other various plants when he goes hiking for his club activities. So I proposed that it might be good to cook those mushroom dishes for his dorm mates, perhaps even sell them eventually, and to other students as well if he has the time and manpower for it.
He seemed to like the idea so far, and he said he'd be interested to pursue it and ask for further consultation down the road. I asked him why he didn't just collaborate with his Prefect, especially if it would give funds to their dorm as well. Jade said that his Prefect is too… carefree for his liking."
"... Huh. Interesting," Jamil mutters. This is the first he's ever heard of Jade's own hobbies. It says a lot that he's willing to consult Azul about it of all people. "Guess he went to you for help then because of your business acumen."
Plus there was cooking once more. Azul really likes the idea of setting up a catering business, even if he seems to deny himself of that.
"Do you guys have any Masterchef programs back in RSA?" Jamil asks.
They've gone past the staircase and are now making their way to the windmills and hilly fields to the west of campus.
"We do," Azul replies. "I joined last year because the theme was baking, and it was something that I didn't have much experience with. It required significantly more precision compared to cooking, and it was quite the fun challenge to tackle. How about you? Have you joined any similar programs here?"
Jamil nods, before gesturing to Ruggie as well. "Both of us, though we joined on different themes. I was doing Seafood and Ruggie dealt with Eggs."
"The best part about those programs is the leftovers people make and leave behind," the hyena grins.
"Most of our ingredients are either locally cultivated," Jamil nods to the windmills and the chicken coop nearby. "Or bought from Mr. S's shop."
"Have you been inside Sam's joint, lil' Viper?" Ruggie asks, noticing how she's looking around the area. "Where did yer teacher even tour you around?"
"We went to Mr. S's, yeah," Najma nods. "And before that, our teacher showed us the different areas where club activities happen. We caught the Equestrian Club in their practice, it was so cool! I wanted to see the Board Game Club, too, but they weren't in their classroom earlier."
"Oh hey, I think they might be there now," Ruggie checks his phone for the time. "I was hanging out with Ortho earlier and he said that he had to get back to Idia because Board Game Club activities would be starting. Whaddaya say, fellow tour guide?" he turns to Jamil. "Should we take lil' Viper out to see the Board Game Club?"
Jamil shrugs. "Fine by me. It's Idia who I worry about. Dunno if his heart can take new strangers."
He leads them over straight to the club room, clearly unbothered by the prospect.
When they arrive, the club members are separated into small groups, playing different board games on tables placed around the classroom.
"Greetings!" Ortho zooms in front of them, hovering and waving his hand as a greeting. "I see we have new visitors!"
"Hey, Ortho," Ruggie gives him a high five. "This is Najma, Jamil's lil' sis. And this is Azul, Jamil's… I dunno."
"I have met Azul Ashengrotto, yes!" Ortho nods enthusiastically. "Hello again!"
"Hello again, Ortho Shroud," Azul smiles.
"Oh neat, you know each other," Ruggie says.
"Whoa, are you a robot?" Najma asks in fascination, looking at Ortho up and down.
"You may call me that, yes," Ortho says. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Najma Viper! Is there any board game you'd like to see?"
"Hmm, do you have mancala here?" Najma looks around.
"Searching the web for information about 'mancala'," Ortho stays still while a series of beeps could be heard somewhere from him. "Information acquired! We don't have that exact game, but we have materials we can use as a passable substitution. Shall we proceed?"
"Heck yeah!" Najma runs off with Ortho to one of the vacant tables.
Idia appears, looking down at his tablet. "Hey Ortho, have you seen the—"
He looks up and sees the three of them. "Eep!" he jumps back, putting up his tablet to hide his face. "It's Mr. Jamil and his handsome love interest from the rival school," he mutters. "Why am I in this scene?" He peeks above his tablet to look at Ruggie. "Why did you bring them here?" he says in distress.
"Showing Jamil's handsome love interest around," Ruggie replies. "Careful, Idia. I might think you're the one crushing on our guest here."
Idia shudders. "N-Not a chance. Sparkly guys and gloomy shut-ins like me don't mix. A-Anyway, now that you've seen the club for yourselves, you can go now, right?"
He looks around, spots Ortho and Najma playing, and groans. "You gotta be kidding me. You're staying, and who's THAT?!"
"My sister," Jamil replies. "Her school is conducting a fieldtrip here today."
Idia shrinks into a crouch so that he won't be seen. "A-Ah… I should've figured. You guys got similar-looking f-faces."
"No, we don't," Jamil frowns, confused. "Anyway, looks like we're gonna be here for a while. Hope you don't mind."
"And what if I do?" Idia stammers.
"We'll stay here longer," Ruggie snickers. "Might as well find ourselves something entertaining to do while we're here."
"Is that The Game of Life?" Azul says with interest, pointing to the open board game at a vacant table.
"Y-Yeah," Idia says. "Do you play that?" he asks in a small voice.
"I used to, but it's been a long time." Azul approaches the table. "May I?"
"Huh? Uh, s-sure," Idia says.
Azul picks up the dice and throws them on the board with a flick of his wrist. Each die lands with the six side facing up.
Azul's face brightens as he chuckles. "Still got it."
"Whoa!" Idia hurries towards Azul, forgetting his shyness for a second. "How'd you do that? That's gotta be luck, right?"
Azul just smiles and picks up the dice again. He throws them, and the sides with the six dots are facing up once more.
"NO WAY!" Idia picks up the dice and inspects them. "Did you rig these? What spell is that?"
Azul chuckles and shakes his head. "I used to play this, and there was a time when I practiced how to throw the dice so that they would land with my desired numbers facing up. It took a long time and a lot of math and wrist cramps, but I eventually figured it out," he says proudly.
Idia's jaw drops as he stares at Azul. "That's like, mega-obsessive geek behavior. You played this game a lot?"
Azul nods. "Indeed. Do you like this game as well? Perhaps we can play some time," he smiles at Idia.
Idia falls quiet, and his face goes red and he scurries away, hiding behind Ruggie with his tablet covering the lower half of his face.
"Th-th-there're other games here," he gestures to the other tables. "If you wanna check out any more," his voice fades out and he shrinks behind Ruggie's shoulder.
"Who do you play these dice games with?" Jamil asks Azul, quirking up an eyebrow. "They must feel like quite the unfortunate sap facing against you."
"Rielle," Azul says. "We discovered this game in our freshman year, and I didn't like that I had so little control over the outcome of the dice. He said that it really is up to chance, and I took that as a challenge," he said smugly.
"Like RSA Rielle?" Idia says in surprise, appearing behind Ruggie. "You just casually play board games with the mega-protagonist crown prince?"
"Not anymore," Azul shrugs. "A mega-protagonist crown prince does get busy with princely duties, and I haven't had much free time as well."
"Then consider this a good opportunity to let loose before it's back to busywork," says Ruggie. "Knowing that the chance and dice games can be rigged crosses them outta the list, what sort of board games do you like to play?"
"Hmm," Azul hums thoughtfully. "I like Clue. And Monopoly. Though both games take a long time to play. How about you two?" he looks at Ruggie and Jamil.
"Eh," Ruggie shrugs. "Board games don't really fill my pocket with pay so I don't really dabble on 'em. I heard some really old ones can fetch ya a pretty penny, though!" His eyes begin to roam the club's belongings with greedy interest.
"Ahem," Jamil gives the hyena a pointed look before glancing back at Azul. "Playing either sounds fine with me. Just so you know, I'm not gonna lose so easily."
A smile pulls at the corner of Azul's lips. "Good, it wouldn't be fun otherwise."
"Ugh," Ruggie makes a disgusted sound. "You two don't mind if I don't join you, right? I don't need to be around all this unresolved sexual tension," he gestures with his hands as if indicating something in the air.
"What are you gonna do, then?" Jamil asks. "Those games work better with more people."
Ruggie shrugs. "I dunno. I'll roam around and see if any game interests me."
He walks away and begins looking at the different games that the club members are playing.
"I've never played mancala before," Azul offers. "From what Najma and Ortho are doing, it looks like it only needs two people. Would you mind teaching me?"
"Oh. Well, sure, if that's what you want," Jamil replies. "Like Ortho said, we have to find some substitutes for it first."
And so they do, cobbling up "shells" with the use of dice and bowls after getting (reluctant) permission from Idia.
From there, Jamil lays down the ground rules and the objective of the game, teaching Azul with a calm demeanor and a small demonstration.
Azul understands the game well enough, and they start playing. As he's moving the makeshift shells around the board, his sleeve hikes up a little and reveals the crescent cuts on his wrist from his fingernails. He notices it—Jamil could tell from how he paused for the briefest second and his eyes widened—and smoothly switches the pieces to his right hand and continues his turn. But that only revealed his blood-tipped fingernails, though the amount of blood was little enough that he doesn't seem to know it was there.
"Have you played this game a lot with your sister?" Azul asks casually.
Jamil goes to tear his gaze away from Azul's hand and musters an answer, voice a little tense.
"Right, um… We'd play every once in a while, but then she'd get fed up with losing all the time and find another game that I'd be unfamiliar with or come up with extra rules in the hopes of giving me a handicap."
From nearby, Najma can be heard yelling out in defeat. "I should've known better than to challenge a robot in a game of strategy!"
"Seriously, what is the appeal of this thing?" Ruggie says, sidling up to a pair of students who were engaging in a battle of chess. "I keep getting roped in to play this only to get my ass beat. Oh shit, your horse is vulnerable to that bishop over there."
"Hey! No backseating!" one of the chess players snarl.
"And it's a knight, not a horse!"
"It's a piece in the shape of a horse, what's it matter?" Ruggie scoffs.
Despite the lively atmosphere, Jamil feels tense as he plays the game with Azul at a quiet pace.
Then, as the merman's fingers cross over to Jamil's side in the middle of his turn, Jamil reaches out and gently takes Azul's hand, bringing his blood-tipped nails under close scrutiny.
His expression is contemplative, before he glances up to meet Azul's gaze and quietly asks, "How're you holding up now?"
Azul tenses up when he realizes what Jamil has been looking at on his fingernails.
He averts his eyes for a moment before meeting Jamil's again with a small smile. "Better now, thank you. I didn't realize I'd…" he nods to his fingernails. "I wasn't aware… Does everyone else know?" he asks quietly.
Jamil's thumb lightly brushes against Azul's knuckle. "Only Ruggie. Can't disguise the smell of blood against a beastman, after all… Are you worried he or I would tell anyone?"
Azul lightly shakes his head. "I’m not. It's just, apart from Rielle, no one has really seen me be… vulnerable like this. I'm not entirely sure how to act… Or how to feel."
"... What are you unsure about?" Jamil asks, trying to be careful in his questions as he lets go of Azul's hand to resume play. He looks around to make sure no one had noticed them pausing and whispering to each other.
Azul takes a breath and continues playing, speaking quietly. "If people's perception of me changed, if they think that I'm not as strong or put-together as they first thought… what then? Will their treatment of me change? And if it does, what do I do?" He sighs. "Anyway, we don't have to talk about it. I appreciate you listening.”
Jamil waits until Azul has finished his turn before starting his. "And... I'll be happy to keep listening. If everything on the other side of this island is becoming too much to bear, you can always find me here. But if you want my two cents on the matter, if people think negatively of you just because you want to be yourself, without the title of advisor or future king or RSA student…"
Jamil finishes the last move of his turn, steady and sure. "... Then those people are not worth keeping around."
Azul pauses and stares at him for a moment, then he nods and looks down at the game as he takes his turn.
"I'll keep that in mind."
Azul gets quiet for a few moments, then adds in a lighter tone, "You know, Jamil, it seems like you're always the one listening to my woes and offering to help. I'd feel more comfortable if I could do something for you in return. So if there's anything you need help with, just let me know," he meets Jamil's gaze.
Jamil tilts his head. "I think you've already been doing plenty of helping on your part. You listened to me just like this the previous times we hung out, so if anything, I'm just following your example. But hey…" He grins. "I'll keep your offer in mind. Here's an idea, if everyone keeps bothering you with expectations over there, just do what I did: go to NRC. Maybe it's not too late for a transfer."
Azul looks surprised, then he blinks at Jamil. "Hm, I'd never considered that before. Although," he smiles in amusement, "some of your schoolmates might be opposed to that idea. I'd only been here for less than a day and your spritely resident was already trying to kick me out."
"Buuuut let's not forget the way people reacted when we came back to the cafeteria," Jamil reminds him. "Whatever happened there, I have it on good assumption that they're not gonna try anything funny again for a while. Come on… You can set up your own catering lounge here and everything, give the cafeteria a run for its money."
Azul stares at Jamil, then he says playfully, "When we first came up on that stage and did the obligatory handshake at the start of the quiz, with your death grip and hardened expression, I never would have thought that you'll be persuading me to spend more time in your vicinity."
"What can I say? You're pretty good at changing minds, Ashengrotto," Jamil chuckles. "And if you can sway us stubborn fools here in NRC, maybe the same can be done for the rest of the people you surround yourself with."
Azul raises his eyebrows and lets out a laugh of disbelief. "And how ever did I change your mind? Did you like the beach cove that much?"
"It was during the cat café that I began to see you in a different light. It's true that you're more pleasant and nicer than the company I keep," Jamil gestures with his head to the situation behind Azul, where Ruggie's running from the chess players after popping a piece in his mouth out of spite, while Idia is crouching under a desk to hide and Ortho's ignoring the ruckus to play a luck-based game with Najma instead. "But I've begun to think that that may not be a bad thing."
He shoots Azul a playful narrowed glare. "Ah, but I still got a reputation to keep here, so they're free to think whatever they like about you and I hanging out together as long as you don't spill how sappy I get when talking with you."
Azul looks down and laughs, his cheeks becoming a bit pink. He clears his throat and looks at Jamil.
"And what reputation is that, Viper? Are you supposed to be an aloof and mysterious figure here?"
"Hah, pretty much. Also clever and capable and composed, but unfortunately, I feel like you've already seen past all of it," Jamil snickers, then glances down at the board, now emptied except for both far ends. "In the meantime, at least you haven't beaten me in this just yet."
"You are clever and capable and composed," Azul says, leaning back in his chair. "I don't think people would stop seeing you that way, no matter who you hang out with."
"But they also think I'm constantly ready to stab someone in the gut if they go so far as to look at me wrong, which I'm perfectly okay with, and yet…" Jamil leans back in his seat, too. "It's gonna be hard maintaining that reputation when your… energy is infectious. When you smile... really smile… how can I not smile along? Now I still haven't decided if it's a virus RSA students carry or… if it's just you bringing that out of me."
Surprise is evident in Azul's eyes, and he's blushing even brighter. He looks down and chuckles shyly. "So you… You really don't mind that people know about us… hanging out?" He looks at Jamil again, and Jamil senses in his tone that he was going to say something other than 'hanging out'.
Jamil's gaze softens. "I had to wrap my head around it for a bit when my own family member started joking around, but… No. No, I don't mind at all."
"Sevens," Idia says in the distance, utterly baffled and muttering to himself. "They've been staring at each other several minutes after their game has already concluded… Can't be me, fr fr."
Azul's posture relaxes and he smiles. "I'm glad you don't. Because… I've recently discovered that there is an aviary in town. And I was wondering… Perhaps you'd like to go there with me?"
Jamil blinks at him, shock blooming on his face.
"Huh? Is this… because of the bird thing I mentioned?"
"Yes," Azul smiles sheepishly. "You're not allowed to keep a pet bird here so I thought, perhaps we could go to them instead. But, it was just an idea, we don't have to, forget I said anything," he shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair.
"Hey, hey, let's do the forgetting once you've actually heard me reject you now," Jamil jokes, knowing full well he'd say the same thing in Azul's shoes. "And there's no rejections from me here. It's, well... I'm definitely looking forward to it." He smiles, both genuinely excited to see birds yet also embarrassed that Azul even bothered to remember and do something to make him happy. "But first, what's your reason for continuing to hang out with me?"
Azul raises an eyebrow. "You don't hear me asking such questions. Even when you've been persuading me to move across the island just to be in the same school as you," he says jokingly.
"Whoa, I didn't say that just because I want to be with you. I was also suggesting it for your own personal interests," Jamil defends, only to realize a moment later that he had just admitted that he wants Azul to transfer to spend more time with him.
Jamil clears his throat. "Besides, I think I already told you that I enjoy your company, so going along with invites like these feels natural, doesn't it?"
"... It does," Azul holds his gaze. "And… I want to keep hanging out with you because…" he shrugs lightly. "You make me really happy. You say that you smile when I smile genuinely, but… you should know that just being with you is enough to make that happen. And I really like seeing your smile, too. It suits you."
…
Jamil tries to keep that steady reassured look on his face, but his darkening cheeks and his fingers itching for his hood gives much away.
"Okay, srsly, guys, no PDA allowed in the Board Game Clubroom. What are you trying to do? Rub it in our faces?" Idia groans, though he's still doing nothing to physically put an end to it. "Also can someone kick Sir Ruggie out already before he starts eating up our game pieces?"
"I'm on it, brother!" Ortho salutes, hovering up and pausing at Azul and Jamil's side. "Will you two be accompanying Mister Ruggie and Miss Najma in their departure?"
"Oh, we could, yes," Azul says. "We've completed our game, after all." He looks at Jamil. "Shall we go with them?"
Jamil nods and begins to stand. "All right, let's."
He glances out to the windows. "Are you needed back at RSA anytime soon?"
Azul shakes his head. "No. I have until 5 PM until I need to go back. How about you? Do you have any plans since today is a half day for you?"
"Nah," Jamil says. "My plans had been to meet up with you, which now evolved into me being an advanced tour guide."
As they exit the room, much to the club members' relief, he then turns to his companions and asks, "So, where do the visitors wanna go next?"
"Can we look at the horses again?" Najma asks excitedly.
"Club activities are prolly done now," Ruggie says. "But we can still go to the stables."
Najma turns to Jamil with a hopeful grin. "Do you think I can ride a horse?"
Jamil gives her a stern look but sighs. "I suppose… if the club leader is still there, then we can try to ask for permission, but no promises."
"You wanna ride horses, lil' Viper?" Ruggie asks, acting more like a friendlier big brother than Jamil does. "What about our RSA buddy over here?"
"I do have some training in horse-riding," Azul adjusts his glasses. "Though I am a tad concerned that I might not be wearing proper riding clothes."
"Don't sweat it, man," Ruggie says. "You're fine. Let's go!"
They continue to walk under the hot afternoon sun, passing by students having picnics, jogging, or making their way to club activities.
Ruggie turns to Jamil as they're nearing the field. "You gonna want a horse, Jamil?"
"I'm not really interested in riding horses," Jamil muttered. "But I can at least be on standby to babysit these two if I have to. How about you?"
"Nah, I'll just be hanging around. Oh look Riddle's here," Ruggie says when they reach the stables. "Hey, Riddle!"
Riddle turns around from brushing his horse. "Ruggie, Jamil. What brings you here?" he glances at their two friends.
"Azul Ashengrotto?" Riddle says in mild surprise, before turning to Najma. "And I'm guessing you are Jamil's relative? I must say you're quite the interesting group," he says to Jamil.
Jamil eyes Riddle, noting his calmer demeanor compared to how he normally had been until recently.
He had always wondered how that came to be. There were rumors about it, too, but... nothing concrete.
"Hello, Riddle," Jamil greeted. "My sister and Azul are here to visit and, well... I apologize for the trouble, but—"
Najma hops up the fence a little to take a closer look at the horses, starry-eyed. "Can I ride on one of these things, Mister Riddle?"
"I do have the authority to grant you permission, but…" he furrows his eyebrows in thought then looks at all of them. "Do you all want to ride a horse? Do any of you have any experience or training at all?"
"I ain't riding, don't worry," Ruggie says. "Just here to chaperone, sir."
"I've had some experience in Knight Class," Azul says.
"Night class?" Ruggie asks in confusion. "Your evening classes teach you horse-riding?"
"Not 'night' as in 'evening'," Riddle frowns in exasperation. "Royal Sword Academy has a class elective where they can train to be a knight." He turns to Jamil. "Do you and your sister have any sort of training?"
"I wouldn't go so far as to call it training, but I do have experience," Jamil replies. "I'm also here to chaperone, though. It's Najma who wants to try."
"I dunno how to ride horses just yet," the girl shakes her head. "But I can start learning! Can you teach me, Mister Riddle?"
Riddle raises an eyebrow, and there's something that almost looks like a smile on his face. "I appreciate the enthusiasm, but I can only teach you for no longer than 20 minutes, all right? I have other duties to attend to."
"Got it, Mister Riddle! Thank you!" Najma beams.
"And you, Azul? Would I be correct to assume you do not need any guidance?" Riddle asks him.
Azul smiles politely. "Indeed. I shall not be doing anything complex nor dangerous. I can assure you that I will keep the horse safe. And I would not want to take any time away from Najma's training."
Riddle nods. "Very well. If you do happen to need any guidance, perhaps you can ask Jamil, seeing as he has some knowledge of it as well."
Jamil notices how Riddle takes note of Azul's NRC blazer. Riddle looks at Jamil curiously, then turns to Najma.
"Miss Viper, if you'll follow me," Riddle leads her to one of the horses and explains that it's one of the calmest and most suited for beginners.
"Riddle's in a good mood today," Ruggie says. "Imma go ask him if he'll tip me if I clean up here and brush the horses," he jogs over to Riddle and Najma.
Jamil watches Ruggie trot away before glancing back at Azul.
"So… Knight classes, huh? Is that a mandatory part of the curriculum?"
"No," Azul shakes his head. "It's an elective, but I was expected to take it as one of Rielle's close friends. Those who surround him must be able to protect him and themselves to some degree."
Azul starts walking and looking at the horses. "Are you sure you won't be riding? What will you be doing in the meantime?"
"Watching you and Najma ride around. It's fine… Why? Do you want me to ride along?" Jamil asks, leaning against the fence.
"It’s up to you," Azul stops in front of a brown and white stallion. "I'm just not sure if I'm comfortable with the thought that I'm the one who asked you to hang out today and yet you'll merely be standing around and, in your own words, babysitting," Azul smiles at him. "I want you to have fun as well."
"Hmm… Would you show me some stuff you learned from Knight Class if I join in?"
Azul's looks caught off-guard. "It's not nearly as cool as you might think, I warn you. It might not be so different from what you've already learned as a retainer."
Jamil playfully sighs, glancing away. "Then it looks like I must continue to hone my retainer skills by keeping a watchful eye over you and Najma from here…"
"Oh come now, that's not what I meant," Azul says gently, stepping in front of Jamil. "I was just worried you'll get bored if I just prattle on about things you might already know."
Jamil looks at him once more. "Let me be the judge of that.” A part of him feels sure much of Azul's prattling wouldn't bore him, anyway. "Shall we get ourselves some horses, then?"
Azul smiles. "We shall."
After readying their horses, they mount them and begin at a trot across the hill.
Azul tells Jamil about the proper ways to hold the reins and about encouraging the horse to move or stop without hurting it or making it feel tense. Jamil already knows about most of it, as Azul had guessed, but it was a nice refresher, and nicer to listen to Azul explain it.
"Usually the basics end there," Azul says. "But in RSA, we must also learn to wield at least one weapon or shield while on a moving horse."
Azul lets go of the reins with one hand and raises his Magic Pen to demonstrate. "It's a little trickier to keep one's balance when holding something heavy–though we don't have anything like that right now so I'm just using my pen as a stand-in. A more advanced lesson is learning how to accurately shoot a bow and arrow from a moving horse. I never quite learned that one," Azul says in amusement.
"Interesting . . ." Jamil attempts to picture Azul wielding a weapon to battle. It's a strange image, but still rather intriguing. "Are people like Rielle also participating in this elective, too?"
Azul nods. "Our professors in that class have higher expectations from nobility, which is saying a lot considering their expectations for the rest of us already. Though I don't envy Rielle his more rigorous training, he does make for a rather formidable sparring partner. "
"It really does sound like training for knights," Jamil commented. "Have you guys ever been told what it was all for? If it were me, I'd suspect there to be something afoot."
"Rielle is a crown prince," Azul begins. "For people like him, it's to prepare him in case he would need to fight in actual battles for his kingdom. For people like me–those who are expected to always accompany nobility–it's so we would be able to defend them in case of an assassination attempt or any other attack. Then there are those who aspire to be knights in the future. If they receive good marks in that class, it would significantly help their applications after graduation."
To aspire for a job Jamil had been trying to get out of sounds absurd. If he ever finds those hopefuls, he'd tell them they could just swap positions. That way, everyone would be happy.
Now that he thinks about it, they remind him of that First Year, Sebek Zigvolt. Completely wild.
"So someone told you to take the elective because you were Rielle's friend?"
Azul averts his eyes and looks straight ahead. "More like they all assumed I would take it because I'm Rielle's closest friend. His father was looking forward to the both of us going to RSA, saying that the Knight Class there would be very useful to us. Most of our professors said the same thing in our first week at RSA."
Jamil gave him an unimpressed look. "... So you took it."
Azul smiles sadly, keeping his eyes on the horizon. "There is no need to sound so disappointed, Jamil. I know what I did." Then his smile changes into a friendlier one, and his voice sounds upbeat when he speaks. "Come on, I'll race you to the top of that hill. Hiyah!" he snaps the reins, digs his heels into the horse's sides, and it gallops away.
Jamil sighs and speeds along after him, taking in the breeze as he watches Azul ahead.
He supposes there's little he can do considering this is the life his friend chose.
But it's still frustrating watching him just accept it lying down.
He spurs his horse onward to keep a steady pace with Azul's, making sure not to lag too far behind but not close enough to make the other speed faster.
Upon reaching the top of the hill, Azul doesn't slow down. He turns his horse around and veers towards the obstacle course that the Equestrian Club uses for their activities.
His jaw is set and there's an intensity in his eyes as he glares ahead, leaning forward on his horse and speeding up.
Azul reaches the first hurdle, and the stallion clears it easily. They go through the course, Azul going for the more advanced hurdles, the horse leaping higher and farther, Azul ducking and dodging the wooden planks.
Jamil stays close by, briefly figuring that he doesn't want to risk the hurdles if he doesn't know how capable his horse is.
But then he manages to get a brief glance at Azul's expression, and wordlessly, he urges his steed to go for it. He's not going to let Azul take the win that easily.
Jamil's horse clears the hurdles, though the blinding glare of the sun proves to be a challenge at some points. Fortunately, the wind is refreshing enough that he can keep his focus.
As he catches up to Azul at the end of the course, he sees him clutching the reins so tightly that his knuckles have gone pale. His head is bowed down and his eyes are closed as he breathes heavily.
The horse is just standing now, but it keeps shifting on its hooves restlessly, as if sensing its rider's tension.
Jamil slows his horse down, eyeing both the rider and steed ahead of him to spot anything off. Are they injured?
"What's wrong?"
As he walks closer, he doesn't see any injuries on either of them, but Azul isn't responding, his forehead beaded with sweat.
Azul takes a sharp intake of breath and his eyes fly open, only for them to roll back in his head as his body slumps, and he begins to slide off the horse.
"Whoa!" Jamil hisses, dashing forth to catch him before he completely slid out. "Azul!?"
Jamil has one hand around Azul’s shoulders while he leans limply against Jamil’s chest, remaining seated on his own horse.
It's difficult having to calm both horses at once, but Jamil isn't a stranger to calming down animals.
Hooves sounded in the distance, and Jamil looks to see Riddle and Najma on horses quickly approaching them.
"What happened?" Riddle asks when they reach them, his eyes falling on Azul’s unconscious form against Jamil. "Let's set him on the ground, we can't risk him falling off and breaking his neck."
Riddle takes out his Magic Pen and gently levitates Azul and places him on the grass.
Ruggie runs up to them, holding the brush that he’s been using for the horses. "Whoa! What happened to him?"
"Is he injured?" Najma asks worriedly from her horse.
Jamil hops off his own horse and states, "Stand back" as he tries to figure out what's wrong.
Azul's pulse is racing, and his skin is feverish to the touch. At the very least, Jamil doesn't see any cuts or bruises.
Then Azul's eyes flutter open, and his face cringes as he puts a hand up to shield his eyes from the sun. "What happened?" he asks, his voice hoarse.
"A heat stroke, maybe," Jamil mutters, moving to shade Azul from the sun shining overhead. Despite his worry, he maintains a calm composure. "How're you feeling? Can you sit?"
"Were you not aware you were feeling unwell before you decided to ride a horse?" Riddle asks, frowning.
Azul sits up with a grunt. "I wasn't feeling unwell at all. Though perhaps it wasn't a good idea to exert myself so much on a hot day without wearing breathable clothing. Merfolk don't exactly thrive under the sun."
He glances up in confusion. "Isn't it raining, though? I thought I heard something… dripping…" he closes his eyes and shakes his head as if to clear it, then opens his eyes again. "Never mind. I must have imagined it."
Riddle tenses up at Azul's remark.
Ruggie suddenly kneels down next to Azul. "You haven't been using your magic just now, have you? Where's your Magic Pen?" he asks, almost in a panic.
Azul furrows his eyebrows and shows his pen to Ruggie. "I haven't been using my magic. Why?"
Ruggie inspects the magestone on Azul’s pen, then sighs in relief. He falls silent, shakes his head, and stands up again beside Riddle while averting his eyes.
Riddle gives Ruggie a curious look, his frown deepening. He turns to Azul.
"We should have you checked at the infirmary. As the person who gave you permission to get a horse and use this area for riding, this is my responsibility. I shall return Najma’s horse to the stables and then we shall head out.” Riddle is looking at Azul and Jamil imperatively, letting them know that there is no room for arguments.
Azul sighs. "All right," he stands up and brushes dirt from his clothes.
The Viper siblings throw each other a look of concern before Jamil helps Najma off her horse and they both follow.
"Can we come, too? I was the one who wanted to go horse-riding, after all. If I'd known…" Najma asks, nervously fiddling with the hem of her shirt.
"Oh, it's all right, Young Viper," Azul says with a kind smile, gently patting Najma on the head. "It was my decision to go horse-riding myself, and none of us could have predicted what happened."
"You may come along if you wish," Riddle says. “Just be certain not to get in the way."
Both Vipers nod and they quietly wait for Riddle and Ruggie to return the horses back to their stables before they head to the infirmary.
While they’re all waiting outside for Azul as the nurse had instructed, Riddle approaches Jamil and Najma, looking at the latter.
"Najma, Azul would need to be sufficiently hydrated. Would you go to the vending machine out in the corridor and buy him two cold bottles of water? You may get whatever food or drink you want as well," he hands Najma some thaumarks.
Najma straightens up and accepts the money, nodding with a determined look on her face. "Yes, Mr. Riddle!" She runs off.
Riddle watches her disappear around the corner before turning to Jamil.
"What exactly happened before he fainted?" Riddle asks, looking troubled.
Jamil looks down the hall where his sister had run off, then he turns to Riddle. "He got really into his horse-riding, as far as I can tell. He just looks like he overexerted himself, though it was pretty sudden.” He notices the crease between Riddle’s eyebrows, the worried look on his normally composed features. “You know something, don't you?"
Riddle purses his lips. "Were you two talking about anything in particular before he started on the obstacle course? I saw that he had done even the advanced hurdles."
Jamil wonders if it was wise to divulge to others something so personal to Azul, so he decides to be vague. "If you want details, you may have to ask him, but… We did have a conversation about his… complicated feelings over his situation as an RSA student."
The frown on Riddle's face remains. He turns to Ruggie, who is leaning against the wall a little far from them, lost in thought.
"Ruggie."
Ruggie startles at Riddle's voice, then he walks over to them. "Yeah?"
Riddle looks at Ruggie, as if taking the time to weigh his words before saying them. "Why did you ask Azul if he had been using his magic?"
Ruggie looks down and shifts on his feet. "I dunno…" he mumbles.
"You're suspecting the same thing, aren't you?" Riddle says, impatience coloring his voice.
Ruggie winces as if Riddle had shouted at him, even though the Prefect had maintained his calm volume.
"I could be wrong," Ruggie says uneasily. "It was just the first thing that came to mind, that's all. Guess I'm still a little paranoid…" he rubs the bandages on his arm.
Riddle sighs and shakes his head. "This isn't good at all," he mutters.
"What? What're you both on about?" Jamil asks, glancing back and forth between the two before eyeing Ruggie's injured arm. "Wait… You're not saying this is related to… There's no way."
Riddle raises an eyebrow at him. "'No way'? Let me remind you that Overblots are supposed to be extremely rare, and yet we've had two already happen in this school in less than three months. You're not a fool, Jamil; you must have heard the rumors and pieced them together. This mindset of 'there's no way' is what has left us all ill-prepared in the first place."
Riddle starts to pace the floor, muttering. "The Headmage really should be doing something more about this…"
Ruggie snorts. "Crowley? Yeah, good luck relying on that guy for anything."
Jamil stares at Riddle. "Then it's true. You went through an Overblot, too… Wait, but what makes you think Azul's in danger of the same thing?" he points out. "Did you or Leona have fainting episodes, too?"
Riddle stops pacing in front of Jamil. "Indeed, it's true," he says grimly. "But I don't know Azul Ashengrotto well enough to judge if he's about to go through the same thing. I didn't have fainting spells, but nearing my Overblot, there were moments when… I felt myself slipping away. And then the dripping sound…" Riddle looks away, his face strained from the memories.
"It was the same thing for Leona," Ruggie mumbles. "I dunno if he heard any dripping sound, but whenever he got too upset about having to defeat Malleus, it's like he turned into a different person. He's always been a pain in the ass and his snarls are practically a part of his personality, but leading up to his Overblot, sometimes it's like he lost control of himself. It wasn't loud or anything, and I don't think anyone else noticed. But he was… different." Ruggie shakes his head. "I can't explain it."
"It's the conflict," Riddle says, his voice quiet. "There were times when I could feel the darkness growing within me. I had to fight it with every ounce of my being, and as we all know, I didn't entirely succeed…" he looks down at his hand, a distant look in his eyes. He suddenly looks up at Jamil. "In the moments before he fainted, what was Azul like?"
Jamil furrows his eyebrows in thought. The sad smile, followed by the intense (frustrated?) look in Azul's eyes. "Azul's usually what you'd expect from an RSA student: pleasant, polite, competent... But for such a capable guy, he seems to carry a sense of... resignation when it comes to his future. People expect a lot out of him, most of which I suspect he doesn't wanna do at all, and he gets a bit more morose whenever he's reminded of it."
Riddle and Ruggie exchange worried glances.
"Damn," Ruggie says to no one in particular. "That sounds awfully familiar, don't it?"
"Jamil," Riddle says urgently. "Right before he fainted, did Azul seem uncharacteristically angry or frustrated? How was he in his last few seconds of consciousness?"
"It was hard to say since he was riding ahead of me, but in the few moments I did catch a glimpse of him, I suppose he did seem a little intense. I thought he was just determined to win." Jamil responds. "Then when I was heading over, he looked like he was concentrating on something, since he was tense and had his eyes closed. Then he gasped and fainted. Does that mean anything? I figured he was getting dizzy at the time."
"Tense and concentrating?" Ruggie looks at Riddle and Jamil in turn. "Like the conflict that Riddle mentioned?"
"He could just be getting dizzy," Riddle frowns, then shakes his head in defeat. "I don't know. It's extremely difficult to determine these things, given the unfortunate lack of research on the subject. It would be better if we could also speak to Leona about this, but I doubt he would be so inclined to discuss the subject."
Riddle looks at Jamil. "To be on the safe side, do what you can to see to it that Azul doesn't repress his negative feelings so much. He must be able to talk about them and accept them. Letting such feelings fester will not be good for him, regardless of an Overblot."
"Wait," Ruggie says. "Only powerful mages are in danger of Overblotting, right? Because of how much magic they can produce? Is Azul that powerful?" he asks Jamil.
Jamil frowns. Azul's smart and strong, but Jamil can't say he's seen much of his powers firsthand to conclude anything concrete.
"I think you're better off asking the Leech twins or Prince Rielle. They have known the guy much longer, and the twins told me that Azul had a magic contract business when they were younger."
The sound of footsteps approaches, and Najma appears, holding a bag of drinks.
"I used my money for the others, Mr. Riddle," she says as she hands bottled drinks to all of them and returns some change of thaumarks to Riddle. "How's Mr. Azul?"
The door to the infirmary opens. "Better now, thank you," Azul says with a small smile, closing the door behind him. "It seems like it really was just exhaustion and the heat. I hope I didn't worry you too much.”
Jamil searches Azul's face for any sort of fabrication. He doesn't seem like he's lying, though his eyes look tired.
Then Jamil glances at Riddle and Ruggie, gauging their reactions. Are they going to tell him?
"Hey, I'm glad you're okay, Azul!" Ruggie says. "Welp, hate to have to end it on this note, but I got some chores to do at Savanaclaw, so, see ya!" he waves at them and jogs away.
Riddle straightens up and smiles at Azul. "Indeed, I am glad to see that you are well. I must get back to my dorm now. It was nice to have made your acquaintance, Azul Ashengrotto. Najma has purchased drinks for you to stay hydrated," he gestures to Najma. "Until next time," he nods to Azul and turns to leave.
Azul nods and smiles back, and turns to Najma for the drink.
Riddle pulls Jamil aside. "He's your friend," he says quietly. "You decide what to tell him.” then he leaves without another word.
"Me?" Jamil mumbles in surprise. They were the ones who saw the signs to begin with. Why're they dumping the responsibility on his shoulders?
He huffs in troubled exasperation, before turning to Azul and Najma.
"... Are you sure you're feeling all right?" he asks, eyebrows furrowed.
Azul nods. "I am. I hope I didn't put too much of a damper on the hangout."
"Not at all!" Najma says reassuringly. "I need to go too, because my teacher is looking for me. One of my classmates just texted," she holds up her phone. "Are you really okay now, Mr. Azul?"
"Yes, Miss Najma. It was nice to have met you today." Azul says, smiling. "Take care in going back to your classmates."
Najma turns to Jamil. "Will you be okay?" she casts a sideways glance at Azul.
"Obviously," Jamil utters. "I'm your big brother, aren't I? I'd be setting a bad example otherwise. Now run along and don't get yourself into trouble."
"No promises," Najma grins and runs off.
"We still have some time," Azul says. "Any other places you wanna show me?" he smiles.
"I'm thinking we should inform one of your friends in RSA about what happened so that there's someone else there who can monitor you and do follow-ups, just to be safe," Jamil replies. "I'm surprised you still want to walk around after what happened."
Azul furrows his eyebrows in confusion. "It was just exhaustion, wasn't it? It was my fault for going through that obstacle course in such restricting clothing," he shakes his head. "Oh, speaking of which, perhaps you can direct me to your laundry room? I dirtied your blazer from when I was lying down on the grass.”
Jamil shakes his head. "There's no need. I can have that washed myself. More importantly, it's better to be safe than sorry when it comes to stuff like this. What if it's got something to do with your transition into a human? Or maybe you've been lacking in sleep or food or water. What's wrong with having a friend or two keep an eye on you to make sure no further symptoms occur?"
Azul looks caught off-guard by Jamil’s remarks. "All right, then perhaps we can find a place to just sit, and you can tell me what exactly happened? I'm still a little confused…"
"How much can you recall?" Jamil asks as he leads Azul to a bench by the courtyard.
"I remember leading my horse to the top of the hill," Azul says as they sit down. "Then going through the obstacle course…?" he frowns, as if suddenly uncertain. Then something else mixes with the confusion in his expression. Apprehension? Fear?
"Hey," Jamil softly calls out to him through what he can only imagine is the darkness in his head. He reaches out to brush his hand against the other boy's fingers, holding onto them. "Talk to me. It's okay."
Azul turns to him, his tense posture relaxing gradually.
He shakes his head in confusion and looks down. "I remember being upset… at our conversation about the Knight Class. And then I was… angry? I only remember bits and pieces of the obstacle course, I don't even entirely recall deciding to go there…" his voice fades out into a whisper.
He falls quiet for a moment, looking more and more troubled. "I'd never felt such anger before, the selfish kind that urged me to do whatever I wanted, without thought for anyone else. Normally I would have asked Riddle for permission before using the obstacle course. I could have hurt the horse, too." He looks at Jamil. "How did I get on the ground? Did I fall off?"
"I caught you before you could," Jamil mumbles. "Riddle used magic to set you down after.”
"Oh, thank you. I should have thanked Riddle as well," Azul says, glancing at the direction of the infirmary before turning back to Jamil.
“You looked feverish, like you were having a nightmare…” Jamil continues. “Do you know what or who you were angry towards?"
"I don't remember why I was angry… What do you think is happening? Have you ever seen anything like this before?" Azul's eyes are looking at him with worry.
Jamil has the sense that Azul is used to always understanding everything, and this unknown situation is scaring him.
He really wishes that the ones who actually went through the experience were here. They would have explained it much better than he can.
"I don't know myself, but Riddle and Ruggie seem to recognize the signs. They think you're accumulating Blot at an unexpected rate. Ruggie was wondering if you've been using a lot of magic recently, while Riddle thinks it's got something to do with your psyche." The images of sad smiles and nails dug into skin appear Jamil’s mind. "Azul... you're more upset about your situation than you let on, aren't you?"
Azul looks at him in confusion. "My situation? What do you mean? And Blot accumulation? We have our Magic Pens to control such things, right? An Overblot hasn't been heard of in centuries."
Jamil lets out a humorless laugh. "You can say that to Riddle and Ruggie's faces. I wasn't around when it happened but it occurred to Riddle himself while a friend of Ruggie's Overblotted a few weeks later. You have to take it seriously. Those injuries on Ruggie's arm hadn't just come from a random accident and so far we've been lucky there's been no casualties yet. We're not gonna start now."
"WHAT!?" Azul's eyes widen in shock. "Two Overblots in the span of mere weeks? What did Sir Crowley do?"
Jamil pauses before he shrugs. "I don't know. As far as I was concerned, those incidents had only been rumors until they confirmed it to me personally because they were worried about you."
Azul just stares at him in surprise. Then he blinks a few times. "I see. So they both think I might be having symptoms of an impending Overblot?" he chews his lower lip in worry. "Can you ask Riddle Rosehearts if I can have his contact information? I'd like to speak with him further about it in the future."
"All right," Jamil takes his phone out. It's funny; he's had Riddle’s number since they became fellow Prefects, but he's never found reason to use it until now. He texts the other Prefect for permission to forward his number to Azul. Then he glances up at the merman. "So… Do you think their worries hold any sort of merit, or..?"
"I'm not sure," Azul says. "I'd never known anyone who has Overblotted before, and I haven't done any research about it. It still baffles me that your Headmage hasn't seem to have done anything."
Azul frowns and lowers his voice. "Now that I think about it, he was the one who had started the anger I'd been feeling today." He looks at Jamil then hurriedly says, "Oh, I apologize! I didn't mean to speak ill of your Headmage. It's just that… I think I had started to feel the… darkness… after all the things he said at the cafeteria."
"Feel free to speak ill of him as much as you like," Jamil responds. "It's refreshing to see someone so innocent understand how our Headmage's actually like. More importantly, that's the thing, isn't it? He may have said all that and unknowingly upset you, but the fact that it upset you to begin with means that this is going back a long way. I'm willing to bet Crowley's not the first person to tell you those things and he probably won't be the last."
Azul averts his eyes. "Yes. But at present, I don't see what I can do about it." He looks at Jamil again. "Are you sure this is how you'd like for us to spend our time together? I don't want to burden you with my worries."
"I was the one who asked, right?" Jamil says, reclining into as comfortable a position as he can get. "Sometimes you just gotta vent it out, and I'm pretty sure you dealt with my burdens the past few times we were together."
For the first time in a long while, Azul smiles. It's a small one, but it's not sad or resigned, and it actually reaches his eyes. He sighs. "I'm not even sure where to begin, it feels like everyone has had these expectations from me for as long as I can remember. And I know it's likely just as hard for Rielle, that's why I do stay by his side whenever I can. Why I take the Knight Class, why I'm not entirely opposed to being his advisor in the future. Ever since we were children, we've been each other's breathing room. We always knew that the other would accept us for who we are no matter what everyone else expects. I don't want to just leave him alone to deal with all of that." Azul looks down.
Jamil listens, quiet. ".... Does that mean Rielle knows about your frustrations regarding this situation, too? Or did you keep that one secret because you wanted to spare his feelings?"
Azul is silent for a moment. "I don't know how to tell him," he mutters. "I don't want him to blame himself, he already has a lot to deal with. It's easier for me to get out of RSA and find somewhere else to breathe like today. He doesn't have such a luxury. He's even busier these days with the dance coming up next week."
"But he's your friend, isn't he? Wouldn't he want to know if he or his situation is causing you distress, too?" Jamil points out.
Azul looks at him curiously. "Are you always this emotionally mature? Then why do you claim that your schoolmates see you as someone who would stab a person in the gut for looking at you the wrong way?" he says playfully.
"Because I would," Jamil hums nonchalantly. It's unclear whether he means it or not. "If you want, I can start doing that to the next 'Crowley' that tries to tell you who you have to be. Sorcerer knows I already hear enough of that spiel from the grown-ups back home."
Azul chuckles. "I must say, no one has ever offered to stab anyone for me. And, interestingly, it's one of the nicest things that someone has ever said to me. You really are special, Jamil Viper," he gazes right into Jamil's eyes.
Jamil seems to flinch in surprise at the compliment before awkwardly looking away. "... We're getting off-track. What will you do now that you're aware of the danger?"
Azul sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "The first thing to do would be to speak to Rielle. Any decision I make would affect him." He glances at his watch. "And I must be getting back to RSA now."
He takes off Jamil’s blazer and hands it to him, smiling. "Thank you for today, Jamil. It didn't quite go as either of us expected but… I'm glad you don't mind."
Jamil shakes his head as he takes his blazer. "It's all right, I…"
I'm just worried about you.
"... I just hope you look after yourself better, even if it means being selfish. Don't be a stranger now. You can always hit me up with a text. When you do, we can make up for it next time."
"I look forward to it." Azul stands up. "After all, I still have to get my revenge on you at mancala," he smiles playfully.
"And you have to apologize to the horse you rode for fainting on him without warning." Jamil stands up in succession. "I'll see you to the gate, at least. Come on."
When they reach the gate, Azul turns to Jamil.
"I'll be busy this week because of the Autumn Dance preparations. The next time we'll be seeing each other would most likely be at the dance itself on Saturday. But if you wanna talk, you can always send me a message."
Jamil nods. "The same offer extends to you. It was nice seeing you, Azul..." he says, but he still has a worried look in his eyes. "Take care, all right? Don't let everyone else tell you who you are."
A smile pulls at the corner of Azul's lips, and he tilts his head curiously at Jamil. "How do you feel about hugs?"
Jamil tenses up. "I'm… not really used to physical affection. That's more Najma and Kalim's thing."
Azul nods and smiles in understanding. "I'll keep that in mind. See you at the Autumn Dance, Jamil."
He turns around and walks away.
Jamil watches his slowly retreating form, knowing there's a part of him that wants to tug Azul back and embrace him.
But he hesitates.
And then the moment is gone.
"... See you at the Autumn Dance."
Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who's been reading this lil' AU of ours! Feel free to let us know what you think in the comments! We'd love to hear your thoughts ^_^
<- Chapter 3
Chapter 5 ->
(Masterlist)
#alternate universe#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland azul ashengrotto#twisted wonderland azul#twisted wonderland jamil viper#twisted wonderland jamil#twisted wonderland fic#twisted wonderland fanfiction#twst#twst fic#twst fanfiction#twst fanfic#twst azul#twst azul ashengrotto#twst jamil#twst jamil viper#azul x jamil#azul ashengrotto x jamil viper#ashenviper#azujami#jamiazu#azul ashengrotto#jamil viper#fanfics#fanfiction#fluff#angst#writing#writeblr
24 notes
·
View notes
Text
BACK TO FRIENDS — MEGUMI FUSHIGURO
note. for @thesunxwentblack for the 1k follower event. based on back to friends by lauren spencer smith.
tags. canon setting, sorcerer!reader, zenin heir megumi, angst, arranged marriage, right person wrong time.
“you headed to a wedding?”
wedding. the word itself makes your palms sweat with anticipation and dread. you try not to react to the question, knowing that the driver is only trying to make casual conversation.
he continues, pointing at the screen where your destination is listed. “must be some important people. that venue ain’t cheap.”
you wipe your hands over your dress and will your voice to sound normal. “mhm, an old classmate got married today. he’s from a big family.”
the driver nodded absently, turning on his blinker before changing lanes. “kinda late though, aren’t you?”
okay now he’s being a little intrusive, but he’s right. you glance at the clock on the dashboard, knowing just how late in the night it is. the reception must be halfway done by now. anyone who expected you must’ve now assumed you wouldn’t show.
besides, it was only an hour ago that you finally decided to even show up. after weeks of pouring over that elegant invitation. two weeks. not even a full month, unlike all of your old classmates who talked about receiving theirs three months ago.
are you gonna go, y/n?, yuji had asked when the three of you had gone out for your weekly dinner. him and nobara had been talking about the wedding that entire night, how surprised they still were about the whole thing. how excited. how fancy it’ll probably be. unaware of the fact that...
i never got an invitation in the mail, so no, you responded with a tight smile. you watched as your friend’s mouths slightly parted in surprise.
just like that the lively mood of the night was squashed. then again, it was lively for your friends only, considering the wedding was all that was talked about. soon, the atmosphere became strained. awkward. you still remember yuji nervously trying to laugh it off and saying that the invitation must’ve gotten lost in the mail or something. nobara nodded along eagerly, almost desperate, saying they lose her stuff all the time. but their discomfort was almost palpable. it wasn’t mentioned again and you forced it out of your mind.
not until the envelope showed up at your place three weeks ago. though you were invited to the reception only, not the ceremony itself. still, the invitation was signed in his name. not the clan’s name as you had seen on the others. that signature...it’s what made you falter and question yourself. if it wasn’t in his name, you were prepared to throw it away and fully turn your back on it all.
your thumb had gone over the dried ink as you sat silently on your couch that day. 禪院 恵. so neat and proper, nobara had always complained how unfair it was that his writing was pretty. as “punishment” she’d always make him be the one to write out the mission reports, no matter how long they happened to be. he’d frown and sulk but did it anyway.
it’s actually how you two became closer. you felt guilty he did all that tedious paperwork even though he must be exhausted from the mission, so you stayed behind with him in that empty classroom. you don’t have to, it’s alright, he’d say. but whenever he’d doze off in the middle of writing, you took over and finished the rest of the report. he never shied from showing his gratitude and always walked you to your dorm afterward. those late nights were slowly filled with less silence and you two began to talk more.
you had previously thought him a little aloof, but he was actually a little shy. his tell was always the way he’d rub at his shoulders and look away. first it was things like hobbies that you talked about. how he likes to read, what kind of books they are, what he listens to, favorite foods. soon you weren’t just spending time together while writing reports but even outside of the school grounds. getting lunch and going to a park to hang out. cat cafes, shopping centers, even the zoo a few times.
over the past few years there’s been times where you longed for those times. sitting beside him on the train after a long day out, the way his green eyes would light up in recognition when you’d meet at the vending machines, his low soft voice bidding you goodnight, the lingering hugs when he finally allowed it, and the feel of his lips against your temple...
you should have seen the signs. looking back, they were clear as day.
he had always seemed hesitant when it came to you. you had chalked it up to his overall introverted demeanor. his eyes would linger on your lips or he’d walk just a bit slower on the way back to your dorm. subtle. he held you in his arms like he was sure you’d break and kiss your temple or cheek like a spell would break at any moment. so, you naturally became more forward.
the phantom feeling of his larger hand in yours has never gone away. or the way his voice would soften when he’d open up about his past. two years later since you graduated from jujutsu tech and you can still remember exactly where in the zenin compound tsumiki is resting. his determination, his resolve, his regret over her...you wonder if your friends know the details about it. how close he keeps his sister to his heart.
you wonder if she knows.
she must. as of a few hours ago, she is now his wife. if anyone is privy to the zenin heir’s secrets, it’s her. as if sensing your desolate mood, the driver turns up the music.
you by kumi koda. right on the spot.
just as you remember all these little details about your first love, you remember the first time her name came from his lips. it had been like any other day you two spent together on a day off. but he had been more serious than usual, which was quite serious.
i’m engaged, he had said. i have been for years now and we’ll get married once we’re both twenty. i’m sorry.
you recall being frozen on the spot and unable to answer or even comprehend. your first instinct was to accuse him of being a cheater, but he told you that he’s only met her a few times. it’s an arranged marriage to tie the two clans together. he sees her once a year and that’s it. he likes her well enough but he fell in love with you even when he shouldn’t have.
in short, you two broke up without having even been in a relationship.
he was regretful in leading you on but hoped he could find a way out of the marriage. in the end he couldn’t, not if he wants to do what he must. not only is her clan capable of possibly breaking tsumiki’s curse, but he needs their alliance if he wants to help gojo-sensei change jujutsu society.
it was a noble cause in the end and you, maybe foolishly, couldn’t blame him. you understood. you also believed in your teacher’s ideals and wanted tsumiki to wake up. you graduated soon after and haven’t seen him since. he assumed his duties as the zenin heir soon afterward.
“—llo....hello there?” the driver waved in your face. “we’re here.”
snapping out of your thoughts, you silently thanked him before stepping out. the venue was as opulent as once could expect from one of the big three sorcerer families. you flattened out your dress, hoping you wouldn’t stand out. since this was so last minute, you wore a simple dress that was obviously not for a wedding. better than nothing.
as you made your way into the room, people were thankfully filtering in and out no one paid you any mind after flashing the guard your invitation.
unbeknownst to you, sharp green eyes had been flicking over towards the entrance the entire night. be a little more discreet, husband, kiyo had said not only an hour ago through gritted teeth. her smile was picture perfect to any bystander. beautiful just like everything else about her.
megumi had said nothing and did his best to avoid looking to the door. there was no point in watching because he knew the second you walked in. his breath hitched at the sight of you after two years.
beside him, his wife spoke up with a pointed glare. “i’ll excuse myself. this will be the only time.”
with a murmured thanks, megumi got up and headed your way. you had been looking around and didn’t seem to have expected him to come greet you. you were dressed as if you were going to a picnic or brunch yet the sight of you still made his heart race. you’ve only become more beautiful.
you bowed and paid your respects with a brief apology over your tardiness. it was so formal. too formal and he hates it. hates that he can’t take you into his arms and wake up to you every single day. megumi does the next best thing. he asks you for a dance.
“oh um,” you hesitated, eyes scanning the room. it was filled with the elites of jujutsu society. “i don’t know if i should...”
boldly, megumi took your wrist into his hand and gently pulled you towards him. “it’s fine,” he reassured, looking so handsome in his tailored tuxedo and slicked back hair. “naoya’s been pouring all the drinks tonight, so everyone’s hammered if you haven’t noticed. look, satoru is passed out over there.”
satoru now, not gojo-sensei. you turned towards one of the tables and sure enough, your old teacher was there. he was knocked out in his chair with flushed cheeks and if it wasn’t for the music you’re sure you’d hear him snoring. laughing at the sight, you allowed megumi to lead you towards the dance floor.
which surprised you because he was not someone who danced. and it was true, megumi didn’t dance. he wrapped his arms around you and guided you to rest the side of your face against his collarbone as you two merely swayed.
despite everything that’s happened, it was surprisingly easy to talk even now. it was as if you were back in that classroom helping him write mission reports.
it made your heart ache terribly to know that your connection hadn’t faded. it probably never would.
#correct me if that's not how you'd write zenin megumi#megumi fushiguro#megumi x reader#megumi x you#megumi x y/n#megumi angst#jjk x reader#1k event
337 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sleepless Nights with Morris and Pierre (Stardew Valley)
Heyo! Do you have ✨insomnia?✨ Do you frequently find yourself up at all odd hours of the night, no matter how little sleep you get the night before?! Well boy, are you not alone because I wrote some handy-dandy headcanons of how those sleepless nights might go with the businessmen of Pelican Town! I included both perspectives of whether it is they who are having troubles sleeping, or if it's you who may be struggling. Here's a little disclaimer (as is usual from me):
[Disclaimer: As with all my headcanons, they're all based off my game play which involves the Stardew Expanded Mod and Marry Morris Mod (and possibly more I don’t remember downloading). In this scenario, Joja is still in business but Pierre and Caroline are now divorced. Trigger warning for alcohol, smoking, and hinted marijuana use. Please enjoy and let me know of any headcanons you'd like to see from me!]
🌆 Morris:
It’s sad to say there’s more nights than not where you can find Morris up at all odd hours of the night
Sometimes he’ll simply be pacing while other times you’ll find him slumped on the couch with a book he only can reread a single page on
Whenever you find him it’s one of two things: general anxiety or stress from his job
“What are you doing up this late?” He’ll ask you with a concerned scowl
“I could ask you the same.” You’ll retort.
“Fair point.” He never likes talking about his problems outside of surface level, everyday stuff. But when you can manage to catch him in his most vulnerable state, which happens to be on those nights where he’s especially distressed, he’ll confess what’s on his mind
With worried eyes, he’ll list off all that ails him and more, eventually divulging into a rant about how “kids these days never want to work! Back in my day…”
And so on and so on, until one of you stops him mid sentence to take a few deep breaths and calm down
“I have to do inventory with half the staff because Claire has some odd appointment to attend to and Shane is out on medical leave! How do they expect a staff of three to inventory an entire store and submit the numbers by tomorrow?” He’ll ask you in an exasperated tone, putting his head in his hands
It’s never easy to repeat the same routine nearly every week, but it’s what needs to be done. On the bright side, you now know how to decipher between whether it’s a non-caffeinated-tea or a classic warm-glass-of-milk night.
Although you may sometimes find him with a glass of scotch or whiskey in his hands when he goes through these spells, you try hard to shuffle him away from the potential alcohol dependency (thus the tea or milk being a frequent solution you provide)
On that note, if Morris is the one to find you awake with insomnia, he’ll quickly rush to the first solution he’s always known to work
Coming to your side, he’ll hand you a glass of something potent and tell you it’ll do the trick
After a sniff and sip, you’ll quickly realize what it is and you’ll scold him for trying to give you a stiff drink as a solution
“My father used to give that to me growing up and it always did the trick for me!” He’ll defend himself with that mischievous smirk of his
After his rejected solution of drinking till you’re too dizzy to stay upright, he’ll finally ask you what he can do to help, which usually leads to him simply sitting with you.
Sometimes he’ll take you on a walk around your farm and other times he’ll just do as you do with him so often and make you some tea to calm your nerves
Either way, he’s encouraging you to talk to him, if there’s anything in particular keeping you up
He will not push you to go back to bed but rather stay up with you, no matter how tired he is, until you’re ready to go to bed yourself
When and if you manage to feel ready to try and sleep again, he’ll walk with you back upstairs and make sure you’re comfortable and don’t need anything before he climbs back into bed with you
He’ll persist through his own exhaustion to make sure you fall asleep before he does
On the rare occasion, he’ll even gently trace the shape of your face with his finger while telling you stories from his work
If you ask him why he does this, he’ll try to avoid the topic, making it seem more ominous and creepy than it is
Eventually, he will tell you it’s simply something his mother used to do for him when he was a little boy to help him fall asleep
As soon as he knows for a fact that you’re out for the night, he’ll often say something more tender and sweet to you than he typically does. Some form of an “I love you” but with some extra vulnerability
🌇 Pierre:
It’s not often Pierre has a night where he feels completely incapable of sleeping at any point
He’ll often stay up later, yes, but he’s typically passed out by 2 in the morning
But on those rare, rare occasions, you can find him on the balcony, smoking a cigarette you didn’t know he had. Is that skunk you smell?
Getting up to see what was on the man’s mind, you’ll have to approach him gently, Yoba forbid you sneak up on the poor man and make him drop his smoke in surprise
“Oh hey,” he’ll glance down at you with a soft smile, “sorry, I’ll be back to bed in a minute. I just… need a moment.” He’ll turn his attention to the town square below
It’s almost a guarantee that the reason he’s up is something related to his sinking ship of a shop and Joja Mart’s hand in its downfall
Some nights he’ll just go off on a tangent about how big corporations shouldn't be allowed to exist and basically how it's not fair to more sustainable businesses like his
But most nights you two will just take in the night air of the town, taking in the serenity
After Pierre finishes his smoke he’ll come back to bed with you, holding you close as some form of comfort in an otherwise harsh reality
Sadly, if you’re the one up with insomnia, Pierre will hardly ever notice as he’s (for the most part) a heavy sleeper
But if he notices your absence from the bed, he’ll wait a few minutes before looking for you
He’ll first look in the bathroom, then the kitchen, and finally outside
The moment he finds you, he’ll put a hand on your shoulder and ask you why you’re not in bed
If it’s from anxiety? Buckle up because he’s going to sit you down (if you aren’t already sitting) to talk it out until he is sure you are okay
Believe it or not, he was the parent to stay up with Abigail when she couldn’t sleep at night
His dad-ishness sort of shines through in these moments
But he’ll talk you through things and calmly assure you everything will be fine
Once he manages to get you back to bed, he’ll hold you close if you let him
Despairingly, unlike Morris, he won’t be able to stay awake, let alone have the idea to stay up, until he knows you’re asleep. That man will be out like a light the moment his cheek hits his pillow and he pulls you into his arms
Rest assured, in the morning, if he even knew you had a sleepless night, he’ll be up early with breakfast and coffee ready-to-go!
#I always have such troubles sleeping#or maintaining a regular sleep schedule for that matter#But in my tired mind this is what I'd like to imagine would happen#My apologies if anything is off#If you find any mistakes or typos please let me know!#Stardew Valley Headcanons#sdv headcanons#morris sdv#morris stardew valley#sdv#stardew valley#joja co#pierre sdv#pierre stardew valley#Maxwell_MTV
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
chapter two
Fandom: My Hero Academia
Pairing: Dabi x Reader
Words: 5.6k
A/N: Anon in my inbox, this chapter is for you! I've had this in my drafts for a while now, so I cleaned it up and edited it so I could post it ASAP. I hope you enjoy! Please heed the warnings both below and in the main masterlist!
Warnings: 18+ only (minors DNI), Reader is referred to with she/her pronouns, explicit language, mentions of arson, mentions of violence, stalking, breaking and entering, Reader is followed and nearly attacked by a stranger (nothing happens, heavily implied though), murder, brief descriptions of a corpse (it's Dabi's fault), Dabi is kind of an asshole towards Reader in his descriptions of her but that's to be expected I guess
“Kerosene and Butterflies” Masterlist
Your house used to be an akiya, one of the many abandoned homes in the rural parts of Japan. Upon graduating and moving out, you were able to snag a nice one for an affordable price, with a few investments in repairs here and there. And while your family wasn’t a hundred percent on board with the idea of you living so far away from the rest of them, they didn’t really stop you because, well, it all came out of your pocket. Why stop something if you’re not the one footing the bill, right?
It’s quiet, calm, and comes with some gorgeous scenery, especially in the fall season. Only a fifteen-minute walk to the nearest town, seven if you power walk. It’s the dream house you’ve always envisioned yourself living in when you finally grew up and moved out of your parents’ home.
But now you’re starting to see the downsides of living in such a secluded home: far away from the rest of civilization, not a single soul in sight. A perfect location for any wandering criminals looking for an easy break-in.
You haven’t slept much these last few nights. The little note is in your desk drawer, stuffed between two books and covered up with a towel. Part of you wanted to throw it out, to stuff it down the shredder, to burn it and toss the ashes somewhere in the forest—but eventually you caved and decided to keep it. Maybe hand it over to the police as evidence if any more were left behind.
But it’s been the only one for about a week or so. And since then, you’ve triple checked each lock on every door and window in this house, even scoped out the entire place from outside to make sure there weren’t any crevices or secret entrances anyone could use against you. And just as a precaution, you keep your old softball bat right next to your bed, brushing your fingers over the handle every night before you go to sleep.
Not like it’ll do much against an attacker, you barely have any arm strength to begin with. Still, it gives you something to cling onto.
And now the moon is high in the sky, and you still have to get ready for work tomorrow. Part of you wonders if you should stay in a hotel for a couple nights in the city, but you decide against it. You have to save up for bills anyway, there’s not enough cash between weekly grocery shopping and student loans to splurge on a hotel getaway. Besides, it’s not like anyone can get into this house anymore; you’ve latched both locks on the front door and shoved a bookcase in front of the kitchen window. The curtains are shut and the lights are off. No one’s getting in here now.
You wish you could remember anything about that night—anything unusual, like missing items or unusual scents. But you’d been so tired from your shift that you’d thought nothing of it, completely oblivious until you found that little note tucked away in your notebook.
The little black notebook you’re cradling against your chest, an uncapped pen trembling between your fingers.
Someone was in your house. Someone had found this book—had leafed through it and read your little entries. All the embarrassing words and thoughts that plagued your mind in the dead of night, and sometimes during the day, about a certain black-haired villain. Someone who had left a taunting note about it, leaving you rattled for days on end.
Oh god, I can’t believe someone saw all those notes and entries—they must think I’m a total weirdo! I thought no one could find it and read it, that’s why I kept writing—but oh my god what’s going to happen now? What if they come back and try looking through it again? What if—
Calm down, it’s okay, what’s the worst that could happen? So what if they read all your embarrassing writing? It’s not like they’re going to go to the police and tell them you have the hots for a villain. You’re not gonna get arrested for something like that.
You grit your teeth at the thought. You do not have the hots for him.
Go figure, you’re more hung up over the fact that someone’s read what you’ve written in your little diary rather than them actually breaking into your own fucking house.
Maybe you really are screwed up in the head.
As quickly as you can, you change into your pajamas and finish your nightly routine. You tuck yourself into bed, surrounded by the trio of plushies next to your pillow. As sad as it sounds, they give you a sense of comfort you haven’t felt since before you left home to come live here.
Maybe it was just a one-time thing. Maybe it was just some lowlife who thought he could scare you. Maybe he’s far away from this place by now, looking for another house to break into. Besides, it’s not like he took much, right? He’s probably traveling light in order not to get caught. He’s not gonna come back anytime soon.
It’s true, only a few snacks and candy bars from the counter were taken that night. You realized the next morning, after staying up the entire night holding the note in your hands. Not enough to put a dent in your food supply for the week, but enough for you to notice its absence.
If it happens again, you could always contact the police. Maybe they could get a hero or two to patrol the area, to make sure he’s really gone. Wouldn’t that be nice?
Sure enough, the thought’s enough to send you to sleep, with a hand curled around the handle of the softball bat, and another wrapped around the little stuffed toys on your bed.
“I have some terrible news…the pocky I was planning on sending you mysteriously disappeared.”
“Shocker.” The sound of Fay’s laughter crackles over the phone’s speaker. Part of you wants to laugh along with her, but the growing pit in your stomach tells you it’s not a good idea just yet. “Did your brother come over and steal it again?”
“No…actually, his is gone, too.”
“Wait, seriously? What happened to it? Because I know you suddenly didn’t get a craving for pocky in the middle of the night.”
You shrug your shoulders, even though you know she can’t see you. Even if she’s miles away overseas, just talking to her again makes you feel a little bit safer. Like nothing can hurt you if she’s on the phone with you.
No scary people lurking outside your home tonight.
“I…I think someone broke in and stole it.”
“What?!” It’s hard not to flinch at her shrill yelp. Why did you put her on speakerphone again? “Someone broke into your house?! Are you okay? They didn’t take anything valuable, did they? No money or electronics? You still have all your personal stuff, right?”
“Yeah, Fay, don’t worry about it. Everything’s in order. Looks like they just helped themselves to that stash of candy I was saving for you guys. But…that’s all they took.”
Fuck, even when you say it out loud it sounds ridiculous. What kind of thief breaks into someone’s secluded house just to steal a fistful of candy? Not a very smart one, if they ignored the whole gaming system you have set up in the living room. You could easily make a few hundred bucks off of that…so why didn’t they think to take it when they had the chance?
Fay hums on the other end of the line; you can just picture her tapping her finger against her chin, lost in thought as she stares into space. “…That’s weird. And you’re sure they didn’t take anything else?”
“Positive.” You checked each room twice, then triple checked them just to be safe. Everything’s in order, aside from the supply of candy in the kitchen. “But…it happened about a week ago. Nothing else since then, so…I’m guessing that’s a good sign?”
“Well, did you call the police at least? Or put in a report? Maybe you can have a couple heroes scope out the place if you’re nervous.”
“Yeah, I thought about that too… If it happens again I’ll let them know. But honestly I think it was just a one-time thing. It’s been pretty quiet since it happened, anyway.”
You don’t even bother telling her about the note; you know if you do, she’ll be screaming in your ear about how dangerous it is over here, that you should just move back home to be with the rest of your family and friends. Safe and sound, where they can keep a close eye on you.
Not like there aren’t villains and lowlife criminals where she lives, but still… You can kinda see her point. Nothing like this had ever happened back when you lived with your family.
Besides, telling her about the note will only lead to telling her about the journal—about Dabi, and you’re never going to go there with her. You trust each other with a lot, but this is a secret you’re willing to take to your grave.
Nice way of putting it, but whatever.
Can you even imagine how fucking awkward that would be? Yeah, I ran into one of Japan’s most wanted villains at my job and now I’m fucking obsessed with him. I can’t stop thinking about him and honestly he’s the reason I started writing in that old journal again. Oh, and whoever broke into my house also found that journal and read through all those stupid little entries I wrote about him. And they left me a little note taunting me about it. Fucking amazing, right?
She already knows you’re weird, but admitting something like that to her would guarantee her checking you into some kind of hospital. Or back home with your family. Honestly at this point, you don’t know which one would be worse.
Thankfully she drops the subject; you can tell the time difference is getting to her (it’s almost her bedtime, and the day’s just beginning for me). But talking with her always puts you in a good mood, and when you say your goodbyes and hang up, your chest already feels a thousand times lighter. If you have one regret upon moving overseas, it’s not being able to bring Fay along for the ride.
But now the house is quieter without her voice echoing through the rooms. Today’s housecleaning day, and thankfully it’s nice enough outside to have the windows open. The fresh air always makes you feel better. And besides, it’s broad daylight—what kind of thief would try to break in now?
So you change into an old shirt and pair of shorts, push open the windows, and set to work. First comes the laundry—you’re lucky enough to have a working washing machine and dryer in the powder room downstairs. Once the first load of clothes is shoved into the washer, you head upstairs with a bucket of rags in one hand and a mop in another.
The first casualty is your bedroom; you’ll work your way downstairs and clean as much as you can, until the smell of lemon makes your stomach twist.
The hours tick by slowly, and eventually you lose yourself in your housework, humming along to the thousands of songs on shuffle blasting through your headphones. Sweep the floor, mop the floor, polish the windows—oh, don’t forget to switch the laundry. One load down, two more to go.
And it’s…nice. Not that you enjoy doing housework, but it’s almost relaxing to keep your hands busy with something else for a change. Keeps your mind off other things, lets you focus on the gorgeous weather outside and the fact that it’s you day off from work. Sometimes it’s nice to just enjoy the simple things like that.
Don’t even mention the events of last week. All that’s over with now, gone with the wind. And thank goodness for that.
The sun is nearly gone by the time you finish, and you’re fucking exhausted. But at least the laundry’s done and folded, the upstairs is spotless (save for the storage room, that’s a project for another day), and the entire house has a faint lemon scent to it. Not overpowering, but just enough to remind you of home.
Still, even with how tired you are, the last thing you wanna do is dirty up the kitchen and make yourself some dinner. Maybe you should treat yourself to that cute little ramen shop in town…
The more you think about it, the more enticing the idea sounds. Your stomach is already growling, but you manage to change into a fresh pair of clothes and fix up your hair a bit before heading out the door. Heavy lanyard hanging from your wrist as you lock up and head into town.
Just a quick bite to eat, and then it’s bedtime. In and out, twenty minutes’ adventure. What could go wrong?
He didn’t expect to see her out and about this early in the day.
Granted it’s nearly half past nine, a dark veil over the streets of the city. But it still makes Dabi stop in his tracks, huddle further into the alleyway when he sees her sitting at the counter of a ramen shop. Eagerly slurping up noodles from the bowl in front of her, scrolling aimlessly through her phone. Completely unaware of her surroundings.
As per usual, the little idiot.
Well, he can’t be too mean to her; she has been a bit skittish the last week or so. Probably found his note in that little book of hers, and now she’s more careful about wandering too far from her little house in the woods. She hasn’t left it much other than to go to work, and unknown to her, he’s only a few steps away from that downtrodden path. Making sure she gets home safe.
At least, that’s what a hero would think, and he’s the furthest thing from one. Nah, he just doesn’t want anything to happen to that little stash of food she’s got in the kitchen. Thanks to her generosity the League was able to fill their bellies for a few nights. Only downside is that Toga is consistently begging him to get more of those candy bars, maybe even some more pocky. She seemed to like that the most.
He’s just thankful she hasn’t decided to follow him out here. No telling what the little psycho will do if she sees the cute owner of that tiny house.
…Cute?
He grimaces at the word. Not even close. Just fascinating to him. He wants to know what’s going on in that stupid little head of hers—how much of it is filled with air and empty space if she has the balls to go and write little love letters to a villain like him.
He’s been to her house three times since then; two for recon (making sure no one else is scoping out the area), and one to explore that huge master bedroom of hers. She’d been at work, not scheduled to come home until hours later, so he made himself comfy at her desk and flipped through her little journal.
She’s got a bad habit of writing about him. Not any other villains, not even any heroes. The only name scrawled down in those pages is Dabi.
He hadn’t seen her up close since that first night at the store; and now she’s just ten feet away from him, chowing down on some ramen like she hasn’t eaten all week.
Bet she’s eaten more than any of us have, if her loaded kitchen’s anything to go by. The thought makes his stomach twist and his fists tighten at his sides.
But he has to keep his distance—for now, at least. Don’t wanna scare her off just yet.
Dabi pulls his hood up and over his head, careful not to make any sudden noise from the alleyway. She’s sitting there with two other guys, all three of them too engrossed in their meals to pay attention to each other. Looks like she won’t be leaving anytime soon, so he might as well get comfy.
Not like he has much to do tonight anyways. He’s been hanging out here since the sun went down, waiting for a possible new addition to the League. But he hasn’t shown his face yet, and Dabi’s waited long enough. Can’t waste time on nobodies not committed to the cause.
Of course now he’s got a reason to stick around a bit longer—one that’s slurping up noodles so loud he’s surprised she hasn’t woken the entire neighborhood.
He lights a cigarette, careful to shield the spark of blue from any prying eyes. Only a few people roam the streets this late at night, eager to get home and tuck themselves in bed for the night. A tipsy couple getting a little too handsy on their way to their hotel room. A group of teens chattering away like they’re the only ones in the world. Far too many businessmen checking their watches, probably planning on apologizing to their wives for not making it home on time.
All of them walk by him, too lost in their own troubles to notice a villain lurking a little too close to the streets. Guess nothing’s unusual about a guy leaning in an alleyway for a quick smoke.
He glances back up at the girl, just in time to see her finish off the bowl of ramen. She bids farewell to the owner, and from the smiles they give each other, it’s safe to say they have a bit of history together. He barely has time to sneak further into the shadows of the alleyway before she’s walking past him, that damn lanyard nearly hitting him in the knee.
She’s on the move now. He stomps out his cigarette and shoves his hands in his pockets. Wonder where she’ll head off to next?
She doesn’t veer off towards the path that’ll take her home. Instead she keeps walking aimlessly through the streets, drinking in the bright lights of the city, not even caring if someone nearly walks right into her. It’s getting harder to stick to the shadows, but at least the people around us give him enough cover. She hasn’t seemed to notice him following her.
Not yet, at least. And when she does…
It’s hard not to smile at the thought.
She’s lost in her own little world, admiring the sights like a fucking tourist. Like she doesn’t live in this damn city—oh that’s right, she doesn’t. She’s living out in those woods, secluded and tucked away in the shadows. Part of him wonders if she hates it, living on her own like that. If she was forced to or had nowhere else to go but an old cottage with a sunken roof and a coat of moss.
Must be so lonely in that big house, with no one to keep you company.
Eh, not that it matters to me anyway. She’s just a way to pass the time. To keep his hands busy until he gets bored of her. Or she gets bored of him.
Wonder if she’s written any love notes for me lately?
Suddenly she bumps into a random person in the crowd ahead; she shakes her head and offers an awkward smile, a thousand apologies spilling from her pretty lips. And then she’s off again, lost in the sea of city folk.
The man doesn’t move, frozen still on the edge of the sidewalk. The bastard’s a bit grimy, with an unkempt beard and bloodshot eyes. Apparently someone doesn’t care a whole lot about appearances.
Not that Dabi has much room to talk, looking like the patchwork freak he is.
But then the stranger glances over his shoulder, eyes searching deep into the crowd…and something stirs in the pit of Dabi’s chest. Something hot and sharp that sends alarm bells ringing through his head.
What the fuck is his problem?
The man’s shoulders stiffen, jaw clenching tightly—and suddenly he’s walking straight into the crowd, his eyes trained on her back.
And she’s none the wiser, poor, stupid little girl.
Dabi doesn't know what kicks him into gear; what has his feet moving on their own, every step sending a jolt of adrenaline rushing through his body. Once or twice he actually shoves someone out of the way, earning a couple dirty looks—or averted eyes, if they’re smart. But he doesn’t pay them any mind; all he can think about is getting to her before he does.
What the fuck has gotten into him? Since when does her safety and well-being concern him?
He should turn around. Pretend he didn’t see anything and walk the fuck away. Maybe head back to the shitty excuse the League calls a base, it’s a pretty boring night anyway.
Turn around. She’s not worth it.
Not worth it, not fucking worth it.
Like he hasn’t heard those words before.
She’s blissfully unaware of the audience she has, as she follows the familiar path towards the forest that’ll take her home. The stranger is close behind, footsteps too loud and clumsy. She’ll know she’s being followed the minute he hits the dirt.
Dabi has to be quick. While she’s occupied with heading home, he picks up the pace and meets the stranger halfway. Curling one arm around his shoulders, slapping a hand over his mouth to stifle his screams, as he yanks him into the nearest alley. His other hand lifts up to the stranger’s face, a spark of blue coming to life at his fingertips.
“Not really in the mood to play tonight,” his voice drawls out, making sure to keep his back turned to the forest, “so if you start running now I promise not to hunt you down.”
He’s not worth his time; just some lowly trash who thought he could score big tonight. And Dabi can see it in his face, with the way he glares up at him, stringy hair hanging in his face, mouth curled into a sneer…
Wait, is he smiling at me?
“Didn’t think you were following me,” he sputters out once he moves his scarred hand from his face. “I thought you wanted to meet up near that ramen place?”
Dabi’s hand freezes in the air. This is the guy he’s been waiting for? He shoves him to his feet, stuffing his hands in his pocket.
“You’re late.”
“Yeah, sorry about that.” The man runs a hand through his greasy hair; Dabi barely manages to hide his grimace. “Something came up, and then I ran into…”
His gaze darts towards the trees, his tongue dragging along his lips. Dabi takes a step forward, the sound of his heavy boots echoing through the alley. The man clears his throat before meeting his eyes once more. Credit to him, he doesn’t flinch away when he sees Dabi’s face head-on.
Probably can’t see the severity of his scars in this light.
“Hey, you didn’t happen to see a girl come by this way, did you?”
“Stay away from her.”
The man’s face falls, and Dabi swears he can see his body tremble just a bit. “Oh, is she yours? Lucky man! Gotta say, pretty little thing like that shouldn’t be walking around in the dark… Quite a few dangerous fuckers out there wouldn’t mind getting their hands on a woman like that.”
Dabi can feel his blood boiling with every word that leaves the man’s lips. It’s not like he hasn’t come across men like this before; he has, and every single time they’ve left him with a twisting stomach and a burning throat. Eager to hunt down the weak, to prey on them till there’s nothing left—but when they’re confronted about it, they turn the other cheek and play that sweet innocent smile. Quite a few heroes do it to keep order in the public eye, so it’s no surprise a common citizen would stoop so low to save their skin.
But it’s the way he keeps staring at the trees, like he’s hoping she comes back out into the dim streetlight, that makes Dabi’s hands curl into fists inside his pockets. Call it a gut feeling, but something tells him he’s not worthy enough of being admitted into the League. Like hell is this bastard going anywhere near Toga if that’s how he looks at a girl.
Breaks my fucking heart.
But he can’t kill him yet. Gotta give him a chance to prove himself before anything else happens. Something about false hope, makes it a little more fun in the end. Even though he already knows the verdict on the matter.
“Let’s just get this over with.”
The sound of glass shattering jolts you out of your slumber. Your eyes snap open, your heart lurches in your throat—and when you hear the creak of the stairs, you almost scream right then and there.
Almost.
You have barely a minute to think. Mind still frazzled with sleep, fingers still numb and head splitting with a throbbing ache. You completely forget the bat resting beside your bed and drop to your knees. Thank god you never put anything under here.
You crawl underneath the bed and slap both hands over your mouth. Your phone is resting on the bedside table, you didn’t even think to grab it. All you can think about are the impending footsteps—and the fact they come to a stop right outside your door.
Oh my fucking god, why didn’t I ever put a proper bed skirt in when I moved in here?! At least then I could be better hidden, anyone can see me if they’re looking hard enough! It’s so dark in here, but I’m almost positive anyone can see me—
Someone raps their knuckles on the door. It takes every bit of strength in your body not to squeak at the noise.
They’re outside. Oh god, they’re right outside the fucking door, shit—
Another knock. You squeeze your eyes shut, teeth sinking into the skin of your palm.
Then, silence.
You don’t know how much time passes. Seconds, hours, it all blends together. Your face hurts from being scrunched up for so long, but the minute you relax your muscles you think you hear a noise—and you clench your eyes shut all over again.
There’s someone in my house. They must’ve broke through one of the windows downstairs, but how? I thought I had them all blocked off and shut!
Is it the same person who came to my house before? The same one that left me a note? Or is it someone completely different?
What’s stopping them from busting down the door and killing me right here and now? Why are they just standing out there like a fucking creep?
Eventually, the footsteps can be heard again. But there’s a creak on the staircase, a telltale sign the intruder’s retreating for now. Something heavy falls somewhere downstairs, probably one of the bookcases against the windows, the sound rumbling throughout the entire house. Your nails sink into the skin of your cheeks; part of you wonders if the intruder is tearing up your home in hopes you’ll come out to investigate the noise.
No fucking way. Your ass is staying right here, glued to the floor beneath this bed.
But then it suddenly stops, and it’s quiet again. Only for a moment, before you hear the sound of glass being kicked around, of the door downstairs opening with a harsh swing.
You don’t find the courage to breathe until you hear the door shut with a heavy slam, the walls rattling all around you.
Still, you wait a few more minutes before moving from your spot. As quietly as possible, wincing every time the floorboards squeak beneath your weight. Keeping your eyes on the door ahead, you reach up and feel around the bedside table for your phone—finally finding it and glancing at the time.
Four thirty-six in the morning. Half an hour before sunrise.
I think I’m going to be sick.
So you wait it out. Hunched beneath your bed with your phone in one hand and your bat in the other. Until sunlight streams through the curtains, bathing the room in a warm orange glow. Only then do you swallow your fear and open the door with a trembling hand.
There’s…nothing outside in the hallway. Just the usual wooden floor you’ve come to know over the last couple of years. The same one that’s always a pain to wash on housecleaning day.
The sun is your best friend, filling the house with a gorgeous golden aura. Shining through every window, nearly blinding you as you slowly make your way down the stairs. You don’t know what sick part of your brain makes you think you’re safe in the sunlight; for all you know, the intruder is still lurking outside your home, waiting for you to let your guard down.
Maybe it’s the same part of your brain that thinks you’re okay as long as you have the covers pulled up over your head at night. Yeah, that’s gotta be it.
At first glance, the entire downstairs seems normal. The front door remains shut, like it was never opened in the first place. The bookshelf is still in front of the large window in the kitchen where you left it. It’s the one in the living room that’s been shattered completely, shards of glass sprinkled on the floor, glimmering in the morning sun. A soft breeze flutters through the living room; you wrap your arms around yourself and turn away, already thinking about how much it’ll cost to get that fixed.
And then you see it—resting right there on the kitchen table, in the midst of all your shopping lists, bill payments, and letters to your family and friends back home.
A single rose with gorgeous red petals, its stem plucked of any dangerous thorns. Something that definitely wasn’t there last night when you went to bed.
Your hand is trembling as you reach out to grab it. There’s nothing else, just a lone flower with blood red petals—and the lingering scent of smoke and ash.
But something else on the table catches your eye. A piece of crumpled paper, clearly ripped from the notepad you keep on the kitchen counter for lists and reminders throughout the day. You’re shaking so hard you can barely get a grip on it, nearly tearing it in half when you try to open it up.
Sorry about the mess out back, doll. He won’t be bothering you anytime soon. Hope you can forgive me if I scared you.
You know it the second you see it: the handwriting is the same exact kind as the note from your journal. The same messy scrawl, the same swirl on the tail of the y, the same pet name doll.
Doll, doll—shit, it’s the same guy from before!
Wait a minute…what does he mean, ‘the mess out back’?
The longer you stay there, the stronger the scent of smoke gets. At first it was just a whiff, but now it’s hitting you square in the face, so strong you have to lift your sleeve over your nose.
Where is it coming from?
But you know the answer even before your feet begin to move. As slowly as you can, you start to walk towards the broken window. Trying to ignore the churn in your stomach as the smell of smoke gets stronger and stronger.
The early morning sun spills over the trees, creeping up the deck that stretches around the perimeter of the house. Broken glass glitters across the floor, twinkling like diamonds; your hands are trembling as you reach the railing of the deck, leaning over to peek around the corner—
The smell hits you almost instantly, even before your eyes land on it. Something large and charred and smoking horribly, reminding you of all the barbeque picnics your family would have over the summer. But it’s a gruesome smell, far too pungent to be a piece of food or part of a tree.
And too fucking big to be an animal.
Fuck, fuck, fuck it’s a human, it’s gotta be a human, holy fucking shit is that someone’s corpse out there on my lawn—
Someone screams in the distance—no, that’s just you, and you realize a little too late as you slap both hands over your mouth. You can’t tear your eyes away from the scene—your eyes nearly popping out of your skull when you make out a few bits of ragged fabric and the shape of a hand, scorched down to the bone.
The rose falls to the floor as you bolt back up the stairs, nearly tripping over your own feet at least twice, and slamming your bedroom door shut behind you. Locking it tight and crawling back into bed, throwing as many blankets over your head as you can. Keeping your bat close and holding your phone against your chest.
It takes a solid five minutes before you can punch in any numbers, your voice dying in your throat with every word you speak.
It’s okay, the police are on their way. Maybe they’ll bring a hero or two to help them out—it’s alright, everything will be fine once they show up.
Your head is spinning like crazy (it’s too early in the morning for this shit). The break-in, the corpse, the note, the rose—what the fuck does it all mean? Somehow it’s all connected, there’s no fucking way all of this could be just a series of coincidences, but you know you’re still missing the bigger picture.
Who’s following you around, leaving you little notes and shit, and why did they leave a burning corpse outside your door like that? Hard to believe it, but you’re actually looking forward to going to work tonight. Anything to get you out of this house for a bit.
#dabi x reader#dabi x you#dabi x y/n#touya todoroki x reader#touya todoroki x you#kerosene and butterflies#tw: stalking#restricted fics
14 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dancing on My Own
Requests are open | prompt lists for inspiration | Stranger Things Masterlist
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington | Steddie
Word count: 4616
Summary: Steve and Eddie spent a night togther, but Eddie thought it was better to keep this between them - because he thought that's what Steve wanted. They haven't talked ever since and Robin takes it upon her to make them talk. Only that things don't really go according to plan. - Or the way they broke each other's hearts without wanting to, before they finally make a step towards each other again. | Inspired by this song
Warning/Tags: hurt/comfort, angst, bit of fluff, smut, drinkings, idiots in love, friends to lovers, anal sex, anal fingering, hand jobs, unpeotected sex, love confessions, lots of kissing (let me know if I missed anything) | 18+ MINORS DNI
Author’s note: Okay, I could have ended this before the smut, but then my head was like NAH TRY IT, so this is the first time I'm writing mlm smut at all, so if there's somethign I can improve/change, whatever, let me know 💚
Read on AO3
“Come on, it’ll be fun, Eddie,” Robin practically begged him. “And it will be a good way to unwind. Steve will be there as well.”
At that, Eddie’s ears perked up, and his heart started beating faster. Nearly four weeks had passed since they’d spent the night together. After everything they’d been through, they’d spent more and more time together, and that night, Eddie had ended up at Steve’s house, looking for some company - and if he was honest with himself, he knew that his heart had led him straight to the man it was beating for. They’d talked, they’d laughed, and then they’d ended up cuddling, which had led to so much more.
In the morning, they’d both been a little flustered, and Eddie had been the first to play it down. They’d both been lonely, they’d needed some company, and so the situation had come about. They shouldn’t mention it to anyone, keep their friendship up, right? It was something just between the two of them, nobody else needed to know. Except Robin, because she always found out things like these.
It had been Eddie’s idea, because he didn’t want Steve to feel under pressure, to feel like this had to mean something, while in reality, Eddie wanted to wrap him up in his arms and never let him go again. Nobody had ever made him feel like Steve had. It hadn’t just been the sex, it had been everything else. The way Steve had looked at him, had touched him, had kissed him, like he needed Eddie to breathe… And still, he’d kept that to himself. Because when it came to stuff like this, Eddie was a little self destructive. And he liked to make these choices himself, spare himself the heartbreak instead of giving someone else that power.
What he hadn’t seen that moment, was the way Steve’s face had crumbled. For weeks, he’d known just what he was feeling for Eddie, he just hadn’t had the courage to do something about it, to ruin a friendship like this. That night had been perfect in every way, and he’d hoped that they could talk about it in the morning, only to be shot down by Eddie telling him to keep what had happened a secret.
Ever since then, Steve had tried his best not to talk to Eddie or at least be alone with him somewhere. Because it hurt. Every time he saw Eddie, his heart squeezed painfully, making him remember what he couldn’t have. It was easier this way, to get Eddie off his mind.
“And you think he’ll want to see me?” Eddie asked, raising a questioning eyebrow at her. “He’s been ignoring me for weeks.”
“Can you blame him?” Robin heaved a sigh, crossing her arms over her chest. There were no customers at Family Video at the moment, and Steve had the day off, so Eddie had visited her - because he wouldn’t run into Steve. Eddie was leaning against the counter, tossing a videotape from one hand into the other and back, until he stopped due to her question. What was she talking about?
“You think I don’t know? Steve told me everything. E-Very-Thing!” She enunciated every syllable to make it clear to him that Steve had not only told her about the night - Eddie had already guessed that much - but also about the following morning.
“So?” Eddie asked, putting the videotape down, not looking up at Robin. “We had our fun that night, then we moved on.” Shrugging his shoulders, Eddie slowly glanced up at Robin again.
“Are you really that blind?” She stared at him in disbelief. Normally, it was Steve who didn’t have a clue. “Oh my God, you are!”
“What are you talking about?”
“Steve’s in love with you! And you broke his heart that morning in telling him to not talk about it.” Robin shook her head, getting a headache from this whole conversation. “You crushed him, Eddie. So it’s no wonder that he’s been ignoring you. ‘Cause he can’t look at you without hurting all over again.”
“You’re joking.” Eddie stared at her for a moment before he shook his head. He tried to remember that morning before he’d said anything, tried the time before all that happened, but he’d always stolen glances at Steve when the other one wasn’t looking. That morning, though, Eddie had woken up in Steve’s arms, and Steve had already been awake, watching him sleep. The smile on his lips had nearly melted Eddie’s heart, but the panic had set in immediately. “Fucking hell,” he muttered, rubbing both hands over his face.
“You’re the one who wanted to keep this a secret, while Steve wanted to tell everyone and build something with you. But you talked before he even had a chance to tell you that.” Idiots. They were both idiots, because Steve could have gone up to Eddie and tell him what he felt, but he hadn’t. Robin understood, because he wasn’t ready to get his heart broken again, but at the same time, she just knew that Eddie was feeling the same way, just pulling the plug before anything had been able to bloom between them.
“Jesus Christ,” Eddie mumbled, but a smile was appearing on his lips. “But that means, there’s still hope, right? I fucked up, but I cans till explain it to him.”
“You can shoot your shot at the party later. It’s at the Eugene farm, and Steve and I are definitely going.” Yes, she was trying to play matchmaker here, but she knew how much they both liked each other, and she was willing to help them out, if they weren’t able to do that alone.
“Right… I’ll be there.” Eddie grinned at her, suddenly elated, because of his new knowledge. He found himself really looking forward to the evening.
—
When Robin knocked on Steve’s door that evening she heard him call from inside that the door was open. They wanted to walk over to the farm together, so it was the easiest way to meet up at his house - his parents were gone anyway, like they pretty much always were. This time on a vacation to have some quality time together and work on their marriage - though Steve doubted that it would work.
“There you are,” Steve said with a big grin as Robin entered the kitchen, but he wasn’t alone. “You remember Caitlyn?”
Actually, she didn’t, and she didn’t want to know that girl if she was being honest, which had nothing to do with Caitlyn herself – Robin was sure that she was a really nice girl - but with the whole Eddie situation.
“Nice to meet you,” Caitlyn stepped forward, giving her a smile.
“Likewise.” Robin nodded, tried her best to smile while her mind was racing. She’d told Eddie to come, to talk to Steve, and he was going to that party with his… whatever Caitlyn was, but by the way Steve pulled her to his side and she laughed at one of his stupid jokes that made Robin roll her eyes, she was sure that this would end in a disaster.
Robin didn’t have a chance to inform Eddie what was going on, because they left straight away. Her only chance was to find him at the party before he saw Steve and Caitlyn together, pretending to be happy and in love. Well, maybe not on her part, but Robin knew that Steve was just trying to distract himself, which wasn’t exactly fair on Caitlyn, but… There wasn’t exactly anything Robin could do about it right now.
The party was loud and there were lots of people she knew, but also some she hadn’t come across yet. When Caitlyn offered to get them some drinks, Robin was grateful, because that meant that she’d get a moment alone with Steve.
“What is this?” she asked, pointing in Caitlyn’s direction.
“My date?” Wasn’t it obvious? That he was trying to move on, to get some distraction?
“Yeah… I get that. And I can guess why, it’s just…” Robin gave an exasperated sigh, throwing her hands up. “I told Eddie that you’d be here and how you’ve been feeling and he wants to talk to you.”
“You did not!” Mortified, Steve looked at his best friend, heart plummeting. Eddie had made it pretty clear to him that he didn’t want him, at least not where everyone would see them. What was there to talk about? “Robin, this is none of your business!”
“Oh, so I can’t care about my friends?”
“That’s not what I meant. But this… it’s done, okay?”
“It’s not. You should have seen the way he reacted, Steve. He said that he’s fucked up and that he wants to explain it to you.”
“Explain what?” Caitlyn asked, handing them their drinks, innocent smile still in place, her eyes fixed on Steve.
“Nothing important,” Steve waved his hand, plastering a smile on his face, while his mind was racing. Was Robin serious? Was Eddie really here to talk to him? He couldn’t imagine it. Then again, he hadn’t really talked to him in weeks.
“I’ll check to see if the others are already here,” Robin announced, turning around to leave them and find Eddie. Yes, she’d love to see Jonathan, Nancy, Argyle, everyone, but right now, Eddie was her top priority.
—
Eddie couldn’t deny that he was nervous when he set foot on the premises. He’d already heard the music on his way there, his van parked a little further away. He wasn’t really planning on driving home tonight, because he’d either make up with Steve or get drunk, and he might be a lot of things, but not someone who drove when he’d had too much to drink. The music wasn’t exactly his cup of tea, but there were worse things than that. To be honest, he couldn’t even really listen to the music, because there was so much going on in his head. His heart was trying to beat out of his chest, hammering against his rib cage and making it hard for him to breathe for a moment. But then he took a deep breath and stepped into the midst of all these people. Normally, he wouldn’t be seen with most of them, because they still considered him a freak, but he wasn’t there because of them. He was there because of Steve.
His feet followed the music into the barn, where most people were dancing. He hadn’t found Steve or anyone outside, so he thought that they might be in here. Though this dancing was more an excuse to get close and make out on the dancefloor. Eddie rolled his eyes, waving his way through the people and into a corner, where he could get on a box to look over the people here.
“Eddie!” he suddenly heard Robin’s voice next to him before she grabbed his elbow, pulling herself up next to him.
“Hey, I’ve been looking for you!” Eddie managed a small smile, trying to hide how nervous he was. “And for Steve.”
“Yeah… talking about Steve…” Robin sighed, but Eddie’s eyes were already scanning the room again - and then he saw Steve. Locking lips with a girl.
“Are you shitting me,” Eddie mumbled, feeling his heart seize at the sight before him. He felt like someone had just rammed a knife into his back and was twisting it slowly.
“I had no idea, I swear.” Robin cursed herself for not finding him sooner, for allowing him to see this without a warning. “When I got there, she was there as well, and I tried to find you-”
“It’s not your fault, Robin,” Eddie cut her off, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You just wanted to help, I know.”
His eyes were still glued to Steve and this girl, as if he needed this, needed the pain to get Steve out of his head, out of his heart.
“Guess, I’m not good enough for him.” The sadness that shone in his eyes when he looked back at Robin made her want to wrap her arms around him and tell him that he was more than good enough, that he was what Steve needed. But right now, with this picture right in front of him, he wouldn’t believe her anyway. “So, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll steal a bottle of liquor and head back home.”
“Eddie…”
“No, it’s fine. Don’t worry about me.” Eddie did his best to smile at her, unaware of Steve who was finally looking his way. “I just… need some time alone.”
And with that, he was gone. He grabbed the first bottle he could get his hands on and wove his way through the crowd again, drawing the cold night air into his lungs, because he felt like he couldn’t breathe. It was a little better, now that he was outside, but it would only be close to fine when he brought some distance between Steve and him.
—
“You happy now?” Robin asked, visibly aggravated, when she got back to Steve.
“I-”
“I know you saw Eddie and me. So you really want to forget about this and not give him a chance? You really do?”
“Robin…”
“No, please tell me that you want to be with Caitlyn, and I’ll leave you two alone, but if you’re just doing this to forget Eddie, then you better get your ass out of here and follow him to talk to him.” Robin took a deep breath, her chest heaving, because she was so pissed off right now. “He feels the same way as you, dingus! Why do you think I told him to come here?”
“I’m-” Steve hesitated.
“He left, he took a whole bottle to get drunk. Go now or leave him alone!” Robin could see the wheels turning in his head for a moment, before he hugged her and turned around. Caitlyn was a nice girl, but not the person he wanted by his side, he’d just done what Eddie had told him to do. But he wasn’t ready to throw it all away. Not when he knew that Eddie felt the same way he did.
—
“Eddie! Wait!”
Eddie froze when he heard Steve’s voice behind him over the music in the distance. He’d already come a long way, but had only had a few sips from the liquor. He had no idea what it was, but it tasted awfully bitter. Still, in his situation, he really didn’t care. At first, he thought he’d imagined Steve’s voice, but when he turned around, he could see him jogging up.
“Go back to the party, Harrington,” Eddie called back, turning around to keep on walking. He had a long way to get home, because he wouldn’t take his van. He’d get it in the morning.
“No, I’m here to talk to you.” Steve finally caught up with him, his breathing laboured, but since he’d always been doing sports, he wasn’t completely out of breath.
“There’s nothing to talk about. Don’t you have a girlfriend to get back to?” Eddie lifted the bottle to his lips, but before he could take another sip, Steve grabbed it from him.
“She’s not my girlfriend.” She’d been his date, yes, but not his girlfriend, and he hadn’t said anything to her that could have made her think that. They’d just kissed, nothing more.
“Whatever… None of my business anyway.”
“And here I thought that you’d wanted to talk to me. Least that’s what Robin said.” Steve had to make him talk, had to hear it from Eddie why he’d wanted to keep their night together a secret.
“I did… But then I saw you two getting so cosy and left. Nothing to talk about anymore.”
“See, that’s where you’re wrong.”
“Steve… just get back, okay? I don’t want you to spend your precious time here, when you can get back to her.” Eddie didn’t look at him, he simply couldn’t because his chest was getting tight, making it harder for him to breathe. He had to get away, get home where he could close the door to the outside world and zone out.
“Eddie just… stop! Stop walking away from me!”
“You’ve been ignoring me and now you’re kissing someone else. Why should I wait here and talk to you?” Eddie knew that he’d screwed it up in the first place when he hadn’t been honest with Steve, when he hadn’t told Steve that he wanted him, wanted to hold his hand in public and make him scream Eddie’s name whenever he got the chance.
“Because I love you, you fucking idiot!” Steve yelled his words into the silent night, the farm too far away by now to still hear the music. His own heart was beating so fast, so loud that he feared that Eddie could hear it. But he’d just told Eddie that he loved him, and the seconds it took Eddie to turn around, felt like hours.
“You…” Eddie was at a loss for words, heart thumping against his ribs, his stomach all fuzzy from the sudden love confession he hadn’t expected at all.
Steve swallowed hard, but he stepped up to Eddie.
“I love you… And I just did that to… get you off my mind, because you said that we should keep this between us, not talk about i-”
Eddie pulled Steve towards him, sealed his lips with his own to make him shut up, to show him what he was feeling rather than put it into words. He’d never been good at voicing his feelings, but he could show Steve. He kissed him with such fervour that Steve couldn’t stop the moan from escaping his lips. Eddie seized this moment to swipe his tongue into Steve’s mouth, their tongues mingling, sending both of them on edge.
When they eventually broke apart, both of them were breathing heavily. Eddie’s hands had found their home on Steve’s waist, while Steve’s fingers were on the nape of Eddie’s neck, plunging into his hair and massaging his scalp a little. Eddie leaned his forehead against Steve’s.
“I think I made my feelings clear with that, didn’t I?” he whispered against Steve’s lips, almost felt him smile in turn.
“I’m not sure.. Could you maybe repeat that?”
“Stevie… I-” Eddie licked his lips, pulling back slightly to look at him. “I never wanted to hurt you. I only said that because I thought you wouldn’t want anyone to know about us, and I wanted to stop it right there rather than get hurt later on.”
“And I never intended to hurt you. I wanted this, wanted you.” Steve cupped Eddie’s cheek with his hand, ran his thumb over Eddie’s bottom lip. He had to groan when Eddie’s tongue darted out to meet his thumb. “Still do.” Steve’s eyes landed on Eddie’s lips, eyes darkening before he leaned down to kiss Eddie again.
Eddie’s hold on Steve’s waist tightened, fingers digging into his skin, before he pushed his hands beneath Steve’s shirt, let them travel across his back, feeling the warm, soft skin beneath his calloused fingertips.
Steve pulled his lips from Eddie’s again, only to pepper kisses along Eddie’s jaw, down his throat, pressing his tongue against Eddie’s skin every now and then.
“Fuck… Steve,” Eddie breathed out, closing his eyes, feeling his arousal grow. Steve had a way of getting him to lose his senses in a matter of seconds. Nobody else had ever achieved that, only Steve.
“Mhm? Want me to stop?” Steve grazed his teeth along Eddie’s skin, kissed his way back up to Eddie’s ear. “Just say the word!”
“Fuck no!” Eddie pressed Steve more against his own body, pushing his hips forward a little so that Steve could feel just how much he didn’t want him to stop. “Just don’t want anyone to see me dry humping you out in the streets. I’d much rather have you to myself.”
“That’s something we can arrange.” Steve pressed a kiss just beneath Eddie’s ear, before he pulled back, taking the other one’s hand to take him home. It was a good thing that his parents were out of town, because he knew that they both wouldn’t exactly be quiet.
As soon as the door was closed behind them, Eddie’s hands were on Steve again and vice versa. Messy, sloppy kisses were shared between them while they got rid of their clothes, a trail leading up to Steve’s room once they got there, both in their underwear by now. They’d gather their clothes later, or tomorrow, Steve really didn’t care, and neither did Eddie.
“Come here,” Eddie said with a smile, crooking his finger at Steve, who followed immediately. The kiss they shared now wasn’t as sloppy anymore, but it was filled with the love they both felt for each other. Eddie’s fingers ran down Steve’s sides, beneath the waistband of Steve’s boxers so that he could push them down. Steve was already painfully hard from the anticipation, from Eddie’s fingers on his body, and he groaned deep in his chest when Eddie’s fingers wrapped around his cock.
“Eddie…”
“Yes, big boy?” Eddie kissed the corner of Steve’s lips, before he kissed his way down to Steve’s chest, his hand lazily stroking Steve’s cock, collecting the precum with his thumb.
“I need…” Steve swallowed hard, brain going all fuzzy from what Eddie was doing.
“You need to use your words, babe.” Eddie rolled Steve’s nipple beneath his tongue, felt Steve’s hips buck up, thrusting his dick into Eddie’s fist.
“I’m not gonna last like this.” Steve’s trembling hands found Eddie’s boxers, and he made quick work of them, so that he could mirror Eddie’s movements, take the other one’s thick cock into his hand and give him a few firm strokes before they tumbled onto Steve’s bed.
“Fuck, Stevie…”
“I need to feel you inside me,” Steve whispered against Eddie’s lips, capturing them in a kiss, Eddie moaning into his mouth now. Steve’s hand found Eddie’d cock again, his thumb running over the slit, before he started moving his fingers up and down his shaft again.
“Get on your knees,” Eddie pretty much growled against Steve’s lips, making the other shiver, but he complied, turned around and got on his knees in front of Eddie. He kept looking back at Eddie, watching what he was doing, but Eddie knew from their last night, where Steve kept his lube.
Steve shuddered when he felt Eddie drop some lube on his hole, sucked in a breath, when he felt Eddie’s fingers as well, smearing the lube around to get Steve ready. He’d dropped some lube on his fingers as well for good measure.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Stevie, you know that?”
His words alone made Steve moan and his dick twitch. Eddie had picked up on that really quickly, on the way Steve reacted to his words. His fingers were massaging Steve’s holw while he kissed Steve’s shoulder, slowly moving up. But Steve reached around to bring Eddie’s face closer to his so that he could kiss him. Steve’s low moan broke the kiss again, when he felt Eddie push one finger inside.
“You’re doing so good, baby. Does it feel good?” Eddie started moving his finger inside and when Steve nodded, he added a second finger.
“Fuck… yes,” Steve panted, reaching his left hand around to grip Eddie’s cock. “Want to make you feel good as well…” Eddie quickly swatted his hand away, already on the brink, because he enjoyed seeing Steve like this way too much. The greedy little sounds he made, the look he gave Eddie, pupils blown wide with lust…
“You’re already doing that, Stevie.” Eddie leaned forward, plastering a kiss on Steve’s lips, before he pulled back again, scissoring his fingers inside Steve to prepare him for Eddie’s cock. “You think you can take it? Take my cock?” Eddie’s voice was a low growl in Steve’s ear, making him shudder.
“Yes… Yes please… I need it!” The desperation in Steve’s voice broke Eddie’s resolve and he slowly pulled his fingers back, earning him a mewl from Steve at the loss of contact. But Eddie quickly positioned himself behind Steve, gathered some lube on his fingers to coat his own cock with it. Wrapping his fingers around his dick, he pressed the head against Steve’s hole. Eddie took a deep breath before he slowly pushed inside, inch by inch, giving Steve time to get used to him.
Steve stiffened for a second, but then he relaxed, letting out a moan mixed with Eddie’s name. Eddie kept still for a moment, but then he slowly pulled back again, nearly all the way out, but before he could do anything else, Steve pushed back against him, wanting more. Eddie grinned to himself, wrapping one arm around Steve to keep his back against his own chest.
“You alright, pretty boy?”
“Better than alright… But if you don’t start mov-” At that, Eddie pushed back inside him, starting to set a pace for the both of them, and Steve let his head fall back against Eddie’s. “Fuck… yes… so good Eds.”
“Oh yeah! Taking me so well, baby.” Eddie moaned into Steve’s ear before he kissed down the side of Steve’s neck again down to his shoulder. “All of this for me, Stevie… Never gonna let anyone else touch you again.”
“Don’t want anyone but you Eds,” Steve put his hand on top of Eddie’s on his stomach, interlacing their fingers. Eddie’s other hand landed on Steve’s hip as his movements got faster, as he thrust harder into Steve, getting closer and closer to his high.
“You gonna come for me, Stevie?” Eddie raised his hand from Steve’s stomach, Steve’s own hand still on top of his when he wrapped it around Steve’s cock, earning a high pitched moan from Steve.
“Yes… so close…” Steve breathed out, head spinning, and he came with a cry when Eddie hit his prostate again and again after angling his hips. Eddie’s name left his lips in a chant again and again as ropes of come covered the sheets of Steve’s bed, but he didn’t care.
Eddie watched in amazement, his own thrusts growing sloppy as he got closer and closer to release. His hands gripped Steve’s hips tight as he tumbled over the edge, snapping his hips forward again and again, filling Steve with his come, until there was nothing left inside of him.
Trying to catch his breath, he wrapped his arm around Steve’s middle again. They collapsed onto their sides, Steve’s back pressed against Eddie’s chest. Slowly. Eddie pulled out of him, making Steve whimper for a moment.
When Eddie opened his eyes again, he placed soft kisses against Steve’s neck and his shoulder. His right hand drew lazy circles onto Steve’s hip, while he held Srteve’s hand with the other.
“That was…” Steve shook his head, not finding the right words.
“Yeah…” Eddie agreed, chuckling to himself when he leaned his sweat coated forehead against Steve's shoulder blade. “Can we just stay like this for five minutes?” He closed his eyes again, taking a deep breath. “Just in case this is a dream…”
“I can assure you that this is not a dream.” Steve raised their joined hand to his lips and kissed each of Eddie’s fingers, the cold metal of his rings a stark contrast to their heates skin. “And I’m glad that it isn’t.”
“So am I,” Eddie agreed, nuzzling his nose against Steve’s skin and breathing in deeply. Sometimes, the reality was indeed better than any dream, and this was the first time, he was witnessing it himself.
Tag-list: @dreamsoffilm
Let me know (send me a message) if you want to be on one of my tag-lists. I have one for the Promises Series, Eddie x Reader, Steddie and Steve x Reader 💚
#steddie#steddie smut#eddie munson x steve harrington#steve harrington x eddie munson#steve x eddie#eddie x steve#steddie imagine#steddie fanfic#steddie fic#stranger things imagine#stranger things fanfic#eddie x steve smut#steve x eddie smut#staffi writes
167 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
super-neon
Pretty Fish in a Mermaid Suit
mogadishuimages
Mogadishu Images
uncle-simba
Untitled
uncle-simba
Untitled