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undressrehearsal · 2 months

Text

dare to fuck this up

summary: ever since your last game of truth or dare ellie's been avoiding you and it's time for an intervention

tags: NSFW, tlou au, college!ellie/reader, mentions of drugs and alcohol (not used), oral (e receiving), fingering (r receiving), finger riding (r receiving), little bit of angst, afab reader, the knee thing

a/n: this took me 2 months cause i work full time and it's 10k words so. enjoy (thank u for all the love on part 1! <3) also for anyone who doesn't know the tiktok dance i mentioned i linked it. don't look under the sound you'll spend way too long watching hot women dance

part 1

You hadn't talked about it.

You had woken up the next morning, the sun blinding you from the window that was still left open. A cold autumn breeze ruffled your curtains, pricking at your bare skin. With one foot still in a dream, you'd groaned, turning over and pulling your blanket over your head. You had burrowed your head into your pillow - it still smelled earthy, rich with cologne and the faintest smell of weed. It had made your nose wrinkle only briefly, before you had reached out, searching for the warmth of another body - but your fingers only landed on the sheets, now cool to the touch.

You sat up with a gasp, the blanket pooling around your lap. But you had fallen asleep on top of your blankets, hadn't you?

The comforter was laid neatly over you, the pillows on the other side of the bed propped against your headboard, unbothered. The sun was streaming through the window, filtering through your curtains and shining in splatters of light against your own bare skin. Your small room was deafeningly quiet.

That had been three weeks ago.

For three weeks, Ellie avoided you. You hadn't seen her when you left to take your exam that morning. By the time you got home - after classes and after your part-time job - it was dark. The door to her bedroom was firmly shut, the muffled sound of music leaking into the living room - you wanted to smile when you realized she was listening to that song you had recommended. You thought about knocking on her door; not even to talk about what happened, really, but just because she was your best friend. Instead, you ate leftover takeout - cold because you were too tired to microwave it - and went to bed. You could hear her quietly singing to the music through your flimsy wall, falling asleep listening to her voice.

At first, you honestly thought you had dreamed it. You thought maybe you had fallen asleep, sleep deprivation and vodka drawing out this fantasy in your dreams to torment you when you woke. But when you looked in the mirror, the bruises were still there. You ran your fingertips across the one on your collarbone, pressing at the one left behind your ear; you could still feel the warmth of Ellie's mouth against your skin, her teeth grazing across your hips. The phantom feeling still sent a shiver down your spine, heat creeping in your stomach.

Ellie was trying her best to avoid you, but she still lived with you. After three days of not speaking, you resorted to a different approach. She didn't seem to have any plan to speak with you anytime soon - certainly not about what happened - so you let your body do the talking. You began wearing primarily v-necks and tank tops - ignoring the fact that it was still fall - simply to broadcast the line of lovebites she had left, her signature written all over your skin. They had faded slightly, but the purplish bruises still blossomed along your collar. You began wearing shorts around, short enough to show the bruise on your thigh; you let the fabric sit low enough to show the one at your hip, a pretty blend of colors that made you ache. The few times you did see her - when she was scavenging for food in the kitchen or right when she got home, before she could scurry away back to her room - you could feel her eyes lingering on you, gaze like a brand against your skin, burning all the spots she had marked.

And she would hurry back to her room, locking the door behind her.

Fine.

If she refused to talk about it, you thought, you'd just have to make her.

Which is why, three weeks after your original game - three weeks after that stupid fucking night - you bought a new bottle of vodka (by the time you had found the old one, it had spilled the last of its contents into your rug. Your room still smelled of it). When you got home, Ellie’s door was shut, just as it had been every day for three weeks. You kicked off your boots, leaving them in a pile in the hall, and knocked on her door.

“Sorry, I’m busy,” she called - just as she had every day for three weeks.

You pursed your lips and knocked again, harder.

“I’m busy!” she called again, her voice hard. It might have stung if you didn’t know her so well.

So, you knocked again. And kept knocking, a steady, continuous rhythm that echoed against the walls. You heard Ellie curse under her breath, could hear the scrape of her chair and her footsteps, and you kept knocking. You didn’t stop - didn’t even slow - until she opened the door in a huff, your hand falling against open air.

“What the hell are you-”

You shoved the bottle of vodka against her chest, cutting her off. She gripped it hastily before it could shatter against the floor.

She looked frazzled. You had seen her during several exam seasons, during harrowing projects and infuriating essays. You had seen her in the hospital, two years ago, after breaking her leg skateboarding to work. But there was something in the way her hair was disheveled, sticking up at odd angles as though she had been running her fingers through it over and over and over again. There were bags under her eyes, purplish splotches like watercolor.

And her eyes…. Her eyes were completely shattered.

So you hesitated - briefly, just long enough for her to see the stutter on your lips - before you said, “Truth or dare?”

And the game began.

Ellie looked at you, staring for several moments that stretched into infinity. You wanted to grasp it, to wrap your fingers around that stretched thread of a moment and hold it there where it couldn't hurt either of you. You weren't ready to let it go. But Ellie was looking at you with those broken eyes, and before you could say or do anything - before you caved and took the bottle back, fleeing back to the safety of your own room - the thread snapped.

Ellie shook her head - and kept shaking it, as if doing so would rid her of this… whatever this was. “No,” she murmured, avoiding your eyes as her grip around the bottle’s neck tightened. “No, I’m not doing this. I’m busy, okay? I have an exam tomorrow-”

She moved to close the door - shutting it right in your face - but you kicked your foot out to stop it.

“When somebody asks the question,” you said, reciting the stupid little agreement you both had written out two years ago, the night you established this tradition, “you have to play the game to its conclusion; when you run out of questions or pass out from alcohol poisoning. Those are the rules, El. Remember?”

And still, she just looked at you, her brow furrowed like you were an equation she couldn’t solve - couldn’t even read, really. Her knuckles were white around the bottle’s neck, and when you looked down, her hands were shaking. You wanted more than anything to put your hands over hers, to still them - to bring those hands to your lips and kiss the white knuckles until she released her fists. Instead, you dug your nails into your thighs.

You watched as Ellie took a deep, steadying breath, clenching her fists tighter before releasing the tension, her fingers relaxing around the bottle; her hands stopped trembling. She smiled at you, but it was tight, her eyes empty of their usual mischief. “Alright,” she said, and her voice was just as tight as her fists had been moments ago - the tension not gone, only transferred. “Okay, I’ll play. But you only get an hour - I really do need to study.”

Ellie’s bedroom was the same layout as yours, only flipped, the two a mirror of each other. Strings of lights hung crookedly along the walls, the bulbs casting a soft, warm glow amongst the room, the same hazy hue of a dream. An easel leaned in one corner, a canvas propped against it; there were only the barest scribbles of an outline, incomprehensible to you. You thought it may be a profile, the gentle slope of a nose and soft lips sketched in pencil, but you weren’t sure.

You ran your fingers over her desk as you passed; it was in absolute disarray. Two different astronomy textbooks lay open, covered in highlighter markings and Ellie’s sloping writing in the margins. There were three different cups on the surface in varying levels of full: a mug half full of coffee, still steaming; a glass of water that was completely full, untouched; and a cup filled with murky, grey liquid. A few paintbrushes had been left to sit in that one, and in large writing along the cup was written PAINT DO NOT DRINK. You almost laughed, remembering all the times you had watched your roommate spit water out after she had picked up the wrong cup.

It felt strange when you sat gingerly on her bed. You had sat in this spot so many times before, more than you could count. You had spent so much time lounging on this bed, your laptop open in front of you while Ellie worked at her desk - on homework or her latest painting or nothing at all. There were days laid out before you where you both at lain in a crumbled heap, eating takeout on top of the covers because Ellie didn't give a shit about crumbs, an open laptop playing whatever horror movie she wanted to show you (she was always more scared than you, hiding her face in your shoulder). God knows how many truth or dare games you had played in this room, a bottle of alcohol passing between shaking fingers. When Ellie bought it, it was cheap whiskey and you hated it; you drank it anyway.

Now, sitting on her bed - carefully, as though you thought it might break - your skin felt aflame, a fire burning in your muscles. When you ran your fingers over the messy sheets, you could only remember how it had felt to have your fingers clutching the ones on your own bed.

Ellie sat at her desk across from you, folding herself so that she had one foot propped up on the chair with her, her knee folded to her chest; her other foot tapped anxiously against the floor. She was looking at you, her face strategically neutral, but it was like she was looking through you; her eyes kept shifting away, unable or unwilling to settle on you. Her voice gave nothing away when she said, looking at a spot above your shoulder, “Dare.”

You sighed, feeling the questions wanting to claw their way from your throat with nowhere to go. You knew what you wanted her to do - what you wanted to dare her to do - but the words would only cause her to withdraw further. You felt like you had to approach Ellie as if she were a scared animal, ready to flee at the first sight of danger.

Wracking your brain for something mild, you said, “Try to recreate one of those dumb popular TikTok dances.”

You didn't miss how Ellie's shoulders relaxed, her hands noticeably unclenching. She looked at you and it was almost like nothing had happened; like she hadn’t been avoiding you for three entire weeks, becoming a ghost in your apartment. Like you both hadn’t made what had obviously been a drunken mistake.

The beginning of a smirk tugged at her lips as she dug in her back pocket for her phone - its case had an astronaut on it, because of course it did. The screen illuminated her face, flashes reflecting minutely in her eyes as she scrolled. She bit her lip absently - she often did when she was thinking. You tried not to stare and failed miserably.

“This’ll be easy,” she muttered to herself, half laughing. She scrolled through a few videos, and she had the volume down on her phone, but you could still recognize the song that kept playing on repeat; you were going to fucking die.

There were several minutes of quiet, only the music playing from Ellie’s phone. With nothing to do but wait, you brought your legs up onto the bed, tucking them under you; your eyes wandered around the room, taking in the stack of paintings by her desk, both finished and unfinished. The figurine she had of Kassandra from Assassin’s Creed: Odyssey had toppled on her desk, her spear falling in a glob of paint, the tip smudged bright yellow. You investigated the posters she had hung up of her favorite bands - almost all of them with female singers; she had a very specific taste. On her nightstand, in a frame made of macaroni, there was a picture of her and her dad, taken at the zoo when she was quite a bit younger, the blurry image of a giraffe in the background. She was holding up a peace sign, smiling so wide her eyes were practically shut.

You turned back when Ellie stood up from her chair, placing her phone on her desk. Shoving her hands in her hair, she said, “Can’t promise this’ll be anything amazing, but you get what you paid for.” Even as she said it, she was smirking, a dangerous twinkle in her eye.

You watched as she rummaged in her closet, shoving aside probably half a dozen flannels and at least 10 different band t-shirts. She rummaged through a bucket with a few beanies in different colors, and you couldn’t see her face, but you already knew she would be wrinkling her nose like she always did when she was getting frustrated.

You jumped, startled, when she suddenly exclaimed, pulling her head from her closet and turning to you with a triumphant grin. She held a black belt in her fist, holding it up like a trophy.

You shook your head at her, even as your throat closed up with anticipation. “If it took you that long to find one, it’s no wonder your pants are always hanging from your fucking ass.”

“Hey,” she said, picking up her phone again and looking at you with mock offense; she was still smirking. “I don’t exactly hear you complaining when my ass is out.”

You heard the stutter, heard the way her breath caught after she said the words. It was so stupid - a stupid little remark that she would have made any other day three weeks ago. She wouldn’t have even thought about it, wouldn’t have batted an eye. You would have rolled your eyes and said something mean in response - something like, “I save my complaints for when I see your face instead.” You would have laughed and then watched a fucking movie or something.

Instead, Ellie only coughed awkwardly, ducking her head to fiddle with her phone. In the dim light, you could see the flush of her cheeks behind her bangs. You looked anywhere but at her, your eyes darting around to find something to focus on that wasn’t how pretty she looked when she was flushed pink - how pretty she looked with her cheeks red from alcohol and exertion, her lips shining wetly -

Your brain short-circuited when Ellie started the music - only the bite-sized sample that was trending on TikTok. She set her phone on her desk and took a deep breath, waiting for the song to loop again as she positioned the belt by her hips. She didn’t look at you, instead casting her eyes to the ceiling and muttering, “This is gonna be so stupid.”

When the music looped again, you were forced to watch as Ellie thrust her hips to the beat, pulling the belt slowly away from her hips. When she brought it up to wrap the piece of leather around her neck, pulling it taut, you were surely convinced you must be paying for some sort of crime, that this was your eternal torture. Her movements were janky, stuttering and unsure and off-beat - she had only watched the videos for a few minutes and was relying solely on memory to guide her limbs. When she tried to tie her wrists into the belt, she got stuck, her hands ending up in a knotted mess. Still, her eyes met yours when she raised her bound hands above her head - coincidentally or purposefully - and you couldn’t look away.

This was definitely Hell. It had to be.

When the song started to loop again, Ellie hastily tried to pull her hands from the knot. The belt clattered to the floor, abandoned, as she scooped her phone up, fumbling with the buttons to cut off the music. She nearly dropped her phone in her haste.

When the room was silent again, Ellie sat back down at her desk. Last time you had played, you had asked her to do something ridiculous for her first dare, and she had grinned with pride, practically preening. Now, she wasn't smiling; she hardly even looked at you, fiddling with one of the many paintbrushes on her desk. You compartmentalized the image of her thrusting her hips with her hands bound over her head, saving it for later. You always did torture yourself with these things.

Ellie was looking at that same spot over your shoulder when she said, “Truth or dare?” She sounded pained, her words strained against some invisible weight. It was like your very presence in her room - on her bed - pained her, but you couldn’t bring yourself to leave and give her relief.

“Truth,” you said, hoping against hope that she would ask you fucking anything about that night three weeks ago.

But she had never been that easy. Ellie had never been one to give you straight answers and she wasn’t about to start now - especially not now. So instead of saying anything - asking anything - about that night that she seemed keen on forgetting, she asked, “What’s the worst first date you’ve been on?” Before you could protest that you always told her about your worst dates, she added, “One I haven’t heard before.”

So for the span of one question, you let yourself believe that you were still talking to your best friend. That she hadn’t been avoiding you for three fucking weeks and this was only your typical truth or dare game in between studying. You believed that you were simply gossiping with Ellie, who had been your best friend for several years and nothing more. In the space of one question, you let yourself believe that this was still only a game and not an intervention.

So, in the spirit of pretend, you thought for a moment, rifling through the index of all the shitty dates you’ve been on. Ellie had already heard most of them, had been there whenever you came back home; she was there whether you were heartbroken or relieved that you wouldn’t see the person again. There were a few times where you had come home laughing, and she had passed you a joint as you told her all about the horrible date - you would take twice as long to tell the story because you couldn’t stop laughing.

Finally, you said, “Okay, this was before we came to college. We weren’t close enough friends in high school for me to tell you, so I don’t think you’ve heard this one before. Stop me if I’m wrong.” She waved her hand for you to continue, twirling a pencil between her fingers. “I had just graduated high school so I was dating around before I left for college - nothing serious, just casually looking around.”

“Window shopping,” she interrupted you with a grin - that same easy grin she always had with you. Your heart tugged embarrassingly at seeing it again.

You swallowed the lump and continued, “Yeah. So, I went on a date with this guy - he was some friend of a friend’s, I didn’t know much about him. We went out to dinner at some local dive bar - which was already fucking weird because, like I said, I had just graduated high school.”

“Was this guy a fucking cradle robber?” Ellie said, wrinkling her nose.

You shook your head. “He may as well have been. He was either 21 or he was just really good friends with the bartender because as soon as he came in, he got two beers - the cheap shit, too. It tasted like musty ass.” Your stomach twisted when she laughed. “So we sit at a booth and I finally get a second to really look at him.” You leaned forward, bracing your hand on the bed so you wouldn’t fall, and made sure she was looking right at you when you said, “And this motherfucker was wearing a shirt that said Black Rifles Matter.”

You reveled in the way Ellie’s jaw dropped, her eyes widening. Her lip turned up in disgust, and the only thing she could say was, “No.”

You grinned, nodding, and you had to focus really hard to not start laughing. “Yes. And I rolled up to this dive bar, fresh out of the womb, with bright pink hair freshly dyed and a crop top that literally said Femme on it in bright pink letters - which, okay, maybe not the choice to wear on a first date with a straight guy, but still. I was in this booth with a baby face looking every bit as queer as I am, and this fucking dude with a patchy mustache and a shirt that has more problems than I care to admit opens up by telling me he doesn’t like when girls dye their hair.”

Ellie was rolling her eyes, on the edge of her seat. She leaned closer as you continued, “But fine, whatever, everybody has preferences I guess. But this guy gets three beers in, and he’s already been talking about weird shit - conspiracy theories and telling me how kids today are too soft - one of those fucking guys, right? But then he stops,” you hold up your hands for emphasis, leaning even closer, “and he leans into me over the table, and he looks me straight in the eye - you wanna know what he said?”

Ellie groaned. “Tell me he didn’t ask who you voted for or some shit.”

You barked out a laugh; it echoed on the walls. “God, I wish. No, this bitch looks me dead in the eyes, his breath reeking of bad beer, and he says, ‘Are you on your period? I have this weird talent for smelling when girls are on their period.’”

You watched, delighted, as Ellie slapped a hand over her mouth, muffling a choked gasp. “No!”

You couldn’t stop laughing, pressing your hand to your stomach as you fell back against the sheets. Her laugh filled the room like helium, making everything feel lighter - easier. Even now, you couldn’t help but marvel at how easy it was being around Ellie. And for a moment, you did forget what had happened. You forgot about the string pulled taut between you waiting to snap. You forgot that this was anything more than simply another dumb game of truth or dare.

Until you looked up and saw the press of Ellie’s lips again, the way her eyes darted away, and you could feel yourself sinking again.

And that’s how the hour went. Ellie - infuriating Ellie - did every single dare you asked of her. She did a handstand for a minute straight, her face turning so red you thought she might pass out. She called the local pizza place you often ordered from and asked for one hundred sardine pizzas, laughing when the poor teenage boy on the other line started stuttering. Last time, she didn’t take all the liquid in the fridge and make a nauseating cocktail; but this time, she did go and find four different liquids of her choosing - apple juice, almond milk, an old flat Dr. Pepper, and the remaining vinegar in a Kimchi jar - and downed it in front of you. She tried her hardest to hold a straight face, but only ended up scrunching her eyes closed, clapping a hand over her mouth to muffle a gag. She never chose truth.

For your part, you never chose dare. You answered every pressing, embarrassing question she asked, ignoring the flush to your cheeks. You told her the most absurd dealbreaker for a relationship. (“What do you mean you’ll break up with someone if they don’t like garlic?” Ellie asked, smiling even as she shook her head.”) You went through the original Wiggles band and said which you would fuck, marry, or kill (“There are four of them! Do I choose to have a threesome?”)

And you waited. Each time you chose truth, you held your breath. You watched Ellie mull it over, her eyes darting around as she thought, and prayed that she would just ask you something. You knew it was an unrealistic wish, but you still watched her lips and hoped against hope that she would give you some kind of acknowledgement that this wasn’t all for nothing. You just wanted her to stop being such a pussy and fucking talk about what happened.

But the clock kept ticking.

After about an hour had passed, Ellie looked at her phone and sighed, standing up. “Okay, I really have to get back to studying. I have this dumb astrophysics exam tomorrow and I can’t wrap my fucking head around this shit, so I have to -”

“One more,” you cut her off, standing up from the bed. You followed her as she walked to the door, one step behind her when she put a hand on the doorknob. She paused, her hand frozen there as she looked at you - actually looked at you, not through you. It was only a moment, but it was there; you could feel the way her eyes had branded your skin even after she’d looked away. Your voice was rushed, breathless when you added, “We haven’t even opened the bottle, so what’s one more? Just for fun.”

Ellie looked behind you, back at the vodka bottle on her desk with the seal still intact. She sighed, but she never could say no to you.

“Fine,” she said, and her voice was so quiet in the dark room; the word felt like a secret between you, soft against the tension stretched thin. “One more.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath. You tried to sound casual - you really did - but when you spoke, you found you couldn’t speak any louder than a whisper, afraid to disturb the air around you. You ducked your head, trying to meet her eyes when you said, “Truth or dare, Els?”

She looked at you, meeting your eyes, and she seemed to deflate, sighing out a breath that ruffled your hair - you hadn’t realized how close you were. Her breath smelled of canned ravioli and weed; it was almost enough to make you laugh.

Ellie took a step back, clearing her throat, and answered for one last time, “Dare.” Because she was too afraid of the fucking truth.

And fuck it if your heart didn’t stutter in your chest. You felt your fingertips buzzing, your stomach twisting nauseatingly. You felt like you were going to be sick, but you forced yourself to look up at her. You squared your shoulders, feeling like you were preparing for fucking battle, and said, the words familiar on your tongue, “Kiss me.”

A moment of silence passed, the words suspended between you. They were tangible, and part of you still wanted to snatch them back - to swallow them and leave, to pretend this never happened - but you didn’t. You held them out to Ellie - you weren’t sure if they were a threat or an offering.

Ellie didn’t recoil, and you weren’t sure if that was more insulting. She looked at you for a long moment before turning away, shaking her head and turning the doorknob. “I really need to study, okay? I don’t have time for thi-”

You put your hand against the door, holding it there so she couldn’t open it. Your stomach was a mess, tying itself into knots that you would never be able to undo. And you knew - you were far too aware - that this could ruin everything. It could drive her further away, pushing her further into this little cocoon she was hiding in. Ellie might hate you for it.

But this was too important to ignore.

“Kiss me, Ellie,” you said again, and you could feel the bite of it on your own tongue. When you had said it three weeks ago, you had been so unsure. It had been a rush of words on a breath, tinged with alcohol and desperation. The words had been so careless, a sober idea that had made its way from your drunken mouth.

Now, Ellie was the one who couldn’t look at you. She stared at the spot where your hand pressed to the door, willing you to let go. Her knuckles were white around the doorknob. Her voice was a rumble that you felt in your chest when she said, “I need you to leave. Please.” That last word - please - made your heart break.

You swallowed around the lump in your throat and said, “No.”

Ellie finally turned her whole body towards you, but she was wearing a mask; she had schooled her face into a mockery of nonchalance, her eyebrows raised expectantly as she watched you. She crossed her arms, leaning against her hip, and watched you with measured expectancy, shaking her head. She shrugged and said, “What do you want? I really need to study.”

And it was the lack of care that broke you.

You slapped your hand against the door in frustration, feeling the sting in your palm, disappointed when Ellie didn’t so much as jump. You shook your head at her, and you were so fucking angry you could feel tears stinging at your eyes. You blinked them away and snapped, “What’s your fucking problem?”

Ellie’s eyebrows shot up, her mouth opening in indignant shock. “What’s my problem?”

“Yeah,” you cut her off before she could even continue. “What’s your fucking problem? You know what happened - what we did - but ever since that night you have been so determined to act like it never happened. You haven’t even talked to me in three fucking week, Ellie!” She closed her eyes when your voice broke on her name. “You’ve hardly looked at me all night. And look,” you sniffled, feeling some of the fire in you die down, “if you regret it - if you want to act like it never happened and go back to how things were before, I get it, okay? But can you at least have the balls to fucking tell me?”

Your voice echoed off the silent walls, filling the space between you until you couldn’t breathe. You wiped a hand roughly over your face; your cheeks burned and you hated yourself for it. The room was so quiet you feared Ellie could hear the sound of your racing heart.

It felt like hours before Ellie spoke; her voice was so heartbreakingly quiet, tip toeing on eggshells that were already broken. “I don’t regret it.”

You huffed out a breath, shaking your head as she still wouldn’t meet your eyes. She couldn’t even look at you. When you took a step closer, you could feel the heat radiating off of her body, could feel the warmth in your chest. Your voice had lost its fire, your throat cold and raw and broken. You could only murmur, “Then kiss me again, Els. What are you so afraid of?”

“You,” she snapped. You jumped, taking a step back; your heart lurched when she finally looked at you. Those shattered eyes were watching you, so open and vulnerable you wanted to look away. You forced yourself to watch, to bear witness to it when she shook her head, blinking tears from her eyes. Ellie pressed her lips together, blinking several times before releasing her held breath. She held your gaze like it was a lifeline and said, “I’m scared of you.”

And just for a moment - so filled with silence it might pop - you saw it. You saw how Ellie had run from you like an injured animal, hiding away. You saw the way her hands shook around her biceps. You saw the way she bit her lip to keep it from quivering.

You shook your head, feeling so incredibly small underneath those eyes that had avoided you all night; now they were vividly, overwhelmingly focused, broken in the hazy light and so green it was dizzying (and you couldn’t even blame it on the alcohol this time). You didn’t recognize your own voice, so small and vulnerable that the words themselves ached: “How can I fix this, Els? You want me to-” You huffed out a heavy breath, choking on your own voice. “Do you want me to act like it didn’t happen? Do you want me to leave you alone? I’ll do whatever you want, Ellie, I just… fuck. I just want my best friend back. So just… tell me what I did wrong.”

You jumped when Ellie barked out a laugh, so dry it cracked. It may have been a trick of the light, the soft string lights making everything feel unreal, but when she looked at you again, she went impossibly soft.

“You,” she said, so softly it ached, “haven't done anything wrong.” She sighed, leaning back against the wall; it was like all the fight suddenly drained from her, her shoulders sagging against the weight of three weeks. She looked away, her lashes casting shadows over her cheeks, and said, quiet as a confession, “You were drunk.”

You furrowed your brow, shaking your head. “What?”

Ellie ran a hand through her hair, making it even more disheveled. Pathetically, you wanted to fix it; you knew how soft the strands would be under your fingers.

“You were drunk,” she repeated, as though it pained her; as though it explained everything. Her voice broke, the shattered pieces falling at your feet. “And I…. Fuck, I shouldn’t have pushed you. I shouldn’t have… forced myself on you.” She heaved in a shaky breath, her words tumbling from her, broken glass cutting her throat, leaving it raw. “I couldn’t even… wait for you to wake up after. I just fucking ran - I couldn’t even look at you, and that’s even shittier! And for three weeks, I’ve been trying to figure out how to fucking talk to you when I know that we - that I shouldn’t have done that.”

Ellie pressed her hand to her mouth, taking in a shaking breath - her entire body was trembling as she fought to hold it all in. She looked ready to burst, struggling to take in a deep breath. You reached out to grab her hand - to hold her together - but she flinched away.

“I don’t-” you started, unable to find the words. You watched your best friend dissolve, and you couldn’t seem to fit all her pieces back together. “Ellie… Els, are you saying you’re avoiding me because - because you thought you took advantage of me.” The words tasted ridiculous on your tongue, a foreign object.

Ellie was shaking her head wildly, her hands balled into fists. “You were drunk!” she repeated, like a mantra. She pressed a hand to her chest as though to keep everything in. “You were drunk, and you kept telling me no, and I just… pushed. I pushed and I didn’t know when to stop and, fuck, I still can’t believe I did that and I didn’t even have the fucking balls to face you or even tell you I’m sorry, and-”

“Ellie.” You reached out and grabbed her wrist, cutting off her rambling; she flinched again but didn’t pull away. She looked up at you, her eyes wide and vulnerable and so impossibly green. “For one, do I need to remind you we were both drunk. And that I was the one who told you to kiss me?”

She watched you carefully, guarded; her bottom lip stuck out and, embarrassingly, you found you wanted to kiss it again more than anything. She took in a deep, shaky breath, ignoring the tears running down her cheeks; they mixed with her freckles like watercolor. “You kept telling me to stop - to leave it alone. And I didn’t listen.”

“Els, I told you to stop because I was scared,” you admitted in a rush. Before she could respond, you continued, “Not of you. I was scared of how badly I wanted you, okay? And that’s fucking embarrassing to admit, but I’m saying it so you know it wasn’t your fault. I was scared because… fuck.” You scrubbed a hand over your face, feeling tears on your own cheeks. “Because you’re my best friend. And I knew that, as much as I wanted it, it could fuck everything up. But I didn’t want you to stop.”

She shook her head. Her voice was raw when she said, “You couldn’t fuck anything up. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Neither did you,” you practically shouted. “Ellie, I asked you to kiss me! Yeah, I had a few shots that night, but I knew what I was doing. You asked me how long I’ve wanted it - what did I say, Els? Tell me.”

Ellie looked up at you, her cheeks splotchy from crying; she let you slip your hand into hers anyway. “A long fucking time.” It was no more than a whisper.

“Yeah,” you said, gripping her hand to keep her grounded. “Not just when I was drunk. Not just when it was late. And definitely not just when you wanted it too. I’ve wanted you for a long fucking time, Els.”

Ellie watched you, studying you like you were an equation she couldn’t figure out (she really needed to study for that astrophysics exam). She pursed her lips, nodding slowly, rubbing roughly at her damp cheeks. “Yeah.” Her voice broke again; she cleared her throat. “Yeah. Me too.”

You took a step towards her; her body was so warm it was dizzying. You could hear her breath catch when you reached up and pressed your palm to her cheek.

“What do we do now?”

When she sighed, you could feel it on your lips. You felt the warmth of her hand at your waist, a steady anchor. “Like you said,” she murmured, her gaze soft; she reached up to brush your hair from your face, her fingers grazing the side of your neck. “This could fuck everything up.”

Your heart lurched; you swallowed it back down so it could throw a fit right next to your twisted stomach. “Yeah,” you whispered, afraid to break the spell that made Ellie’s eyes watch the way your lips moved, captivated. “But….”

“But,” Ellie repeated, leaning in so her nose brushed against yours; it was cold against your skin.

You hardly had to move to kiss her, tilting your chin up to finally kiss that pouty bottom lip you had been staring at. You heard her breath catch again, her fingers pressing at your waist, drawing you closer so the warmth of her pressed against you. After three fucking weeks, you hadn’t forgotten how her lips felt against yours. It was just as intoxicating as it had been the first time; you were dizzy with the way she moved her mouth against yours, warmth spreading through your chest.

Ellie broke away from you, but she didn’t stray far; she pressed her forehead to yours, and you could see that her eyes were still closed, her brow furrowed. She sounded impossibly small when she said, “Are you sure about this? I mean, what-”

“Ellie,” you interrupted; you twisted your fingers into her short hair and tugged lightly, delighting in the gasp it pulled from her lips. “Just shut up for once, okay?”

You hardly even heard her replied Okay before her mouth was on yours again. Last time she had kissed you, you had felt lightheaded, floating with the weight of alcohol in your veins. Each press of her hands on you had felt unreal and distant, like she was touching you in a dream.

Tonight, the vodka bottle sat unopened and forgotten on her desk, and Ellie was pressing against you with a sharp realness that made your breath stutter in your throat. When her fingers ran along your jaw, cupping your face and tugging you closer, they were lightning against your skin. She had the welcoming warmth of a bonfire, and you were like a fucking moth drawn to her.

Ellie took a hesitant step forward, pressing you back, moving so slowly as though she thought you’d push her away. You let her push you backwards - encouraged her, really, entwining your arms around her neck and tugging her with you. You stumbled on the last few steps, practically falling back against the wall; Ellie braced her hands on either side of you to keep herself up, laughing into your mouth. You wanted to swallow the sound, to take it into your chest where it could curl up right next to your heart.

The wall was cold against your back, but Ellie was quick to chase it away; her warm hands ran up your back, rucking up your shirt and scratching her nails lightly over your skin until you shivered. She was so gentle with you this time, running her fingers over your skin with such careful deliberation, as though each kiss and each caress was meticulously planned out.

It was with this painstaking consideration that she lifted your shirt, pooling it around your chest; you raised your arms so she could pull it over your head.

Ellie snickered, snapping the strap of your bra against your skin. “This is new.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you said, batting her hand away. It was one of your nicer ones, and you couldn't tell her that, embarrassingly, you had worn it on purpose with the hopeless thought of just in case. “Sorry I’m not in my pajamas. I’ll be sure to fix that next time.”

She grinned, ducking her head to press a kiss to your jaw. She hummed against your skin, “No, I like it.”

You didn’t talk about the implication of what you had said - next time. But the way she kissed her way across your jaw, her teeth grazing over your skin and sending a shiver down your spine, promised a next time. As Ellie’s tongue darted out to lick along your pulse, you could feel the words in the breathy sigh that escaped your lips. When she ducked her head to bite at your collar, she branded the words into your skin.

“You’re such an asshole,” she said, her laughter warm against your skin. She pressed a gentle kiss to your collarbone; the bruise had long faded, but the phantom ache was still there. You could feel her smile when your breath hitched. “Just had these on full display. Drove me insane.”

You huffed out a laugh that stuttered when she pressed a kiss at the edge of your bra. “I had to get your attention somehow, didn’t I?”

Ellie lifted her head to meet your eyes. Her voice was barely above a whisper, her breath brushing your lips when she said, “You’re crazy if you think you’ve ever not had my attention.”

When she kissed you again, it was with a new fire that burned bright in your chest. Her hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer so that you could feel her body against every inch of you. Her fingers dipped below the waist of your pants, pressing at the soft skin there. You felt her tongue press against your lips; when she ran it along the room of your mouth, she swallowed your moan.

Ellie hummed against your lips, pressing you firmly into the wall and shoving a knee between your legs. You gasped at the sudden friction, heat pooling in your stomach when Ellie gripped your hips and pulled you closer, grinding against her sweatpants-covered leg. Her lips brushed against your ear and she murmured, “Tell me to stop and I'll stop.”

She had said those same words last time, pressed drunkenly into your skin. There was an affirmation hidden somewhere underneath: Do you still want me? Before, they had been slurred, like a sloppy kiss against your lips. Now, her hands steady against your hips, her body warm from something other than vodka, it was whispered like a promise.

You answered by pressing your hands to her chest; she didn’t fight you as you pushed her away, didn’t hesitate as you walked her backwards until the back of her knees hit her bed. She let herself fall backwards, but she wrapped her arms around your waist as she did so. You fell into a crumpled heap on top of her, knocking the air from both of your lungs, and you could feel her laughter against your neck.

Lifting yourself up on your elbows, you glared down at her; she only answered it with a grin, lifting herself just enough to kiss you briefly. You couldn’t suppress your own smile when you said, “You’re infuriating.”

Her eyes sparkled mischievously. She hooked her fingers in your belt loops and gave them a tug as she said, “Yeah, get used to that.”

You kissed her again to hide your smile. You didn’t talk about the inclination of that either.

Growing impatient, you swung your legs on either side of her, sitting up and straddling her hips. Ellie’s hands ran up your sides, captivated, as though refusing to keep her hands off you for even a moment. You idly ran your fingers over her stomach where her hoodie had risen up, the warm skin right above her sweatpants; you delighted in the way she shivered at your touch.

“This doesn’t seem fair,” you hummed, running your hand higher up her abdomen, revealing the expanse of soft skin; if you pressed just a little bit harder, you’d be able to feel the muscles beneath. You smiled when you heard her breath stutter, chest rising just slightly to meet your touch. “You’re wearing way too many clothes.”

Ellie - ever enthusiastic - wasted no time in sitting up just enough to tug her hoodie over her head, leaving her hair an absolute mess. She tossed it across the room; you thought you heard it knock something over, but you didn’t have a chance to look before Ellie was grabbing your hips, digging her fingers into the soft skin. You gasped when she used the leverage to pull your hips down, grinding against her.

This time, she was the one not wearing a bra - she had been home studying all day, so you hadn’t expected otherwise - and your eyes raked over miles of fair, warm skin. You wanted to run your fingers over it and watch the shiver your touch pulled from her. You wanted to press your lips to every inch of hot skin and feel the way her body arched into you, chasing your tongue.

But she was watching you with an intoxicating shade of anticipation in her half-lidded eyes. You realized you had been staring for a few seconds too long because she had that cocky ass grin on her stupid face.

“Like what you see?” she teased, pulling your hips down again so you had to bite down a moan.

“Shut the fuck up,” you mumbled. You couldn’t tell her how many times you had imagined what she would look like under your hands or how you had always wondered how far down her freckles went (you couldn’t keep yourself from running your fingers down her chest, tracing them like constellations). You couldn’t tell her how your eyes had tracked her anytime she walked around the apartment in a sports bra or, sometimes, in only a towel, your imagination running away from you.

If you told her, she’d never let you live it down.

Instead, you let your hands drift across the small swell of her chest, feeling the way her body arched into your fingers. You had to bite back a grin when your thumb brushed over her nipple, feeling her body shudder beneath you. You wanted to record the way her breath caught in her throat to listen to over and over again. Her eyelids fluttered, her lip caught between her teeth; you knelt down to kiss her, hard and deep, smiling into it when you pinched her nipple gently and she moaned against your lips, fingers tightening around your hips.

You needed to taste her, you realized. Your mouth watered with it.

You bit her bottom lip between your teeth, grinning when you heard her hiss. You took a moment to kiss your way across her jaw and down her neck, open-mouthed kisses pulling sighs from her lips. You couldn’t resist sucking the skin into your mouth, feeling the way her pulse jumped under your tongue and loving the moan that rumbled in her throat, her fingers gripping your hips so tightly you were sure you'd have bruises - again. But when you pulled away and saw the red beginnings of a bruise on her pale skin, a thrill ran through you. She would have to walk around with a physical reminder of how you had made her feel.

You loved revenge.

But you weren’t like Ellie, who had taken her sweet time in unraveling you. You didn’t have that kind of patience - certainly not now, not tonight. You had spent far too long holding yourself back - too long averting your gaze, never letting your touch linger. You had spent so long schooling your own imagination, trying to ignore the way your heart stuttered whenever Ellie wandered too close. You had spent too many nights letting your mind wander, only feeling safe to let your imagination run when you could hide in the dark; you had spent far too many nights with your hand between your legs and the fleeting image of green eyes and that crooked fucking smile.

So no, you didn’t have any patience left in you.

When you reached between your bodies and pressed your palm to her sweatpants, you swallowed her moan, drinking it in and feeling like you could survive on it alone. Maybe it would finally satiate your fucking thirst.

Kissing your way down her chest, you pressed the words into her skin - “I can't fucking believe you though I didn’t want this.” - before pressing the flat of your tongue to her nipple. You could get drunk on the breathy moan that dripped from her lips, the way she arched up into you like her body ached to be closer to yours. She pressed her hips into your palm and you could feel the heat through her sweatpants.

When you pulled back just enough to tug at her sweatpants, Ellie started laughing, breathy and hitched as she said, “Little eager, aren’t you?” Even as she said it, she was lifting her hips, pushing hastily at her pants to get them off faster.

The fabric was damp when it dropped to the floor, pooling around her ankles. Stepping off the bed, you placed your hands on her knees, pushing them apart. You dropped to your knees and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the skin above her boxers. Her skin was hot under your tongue when you said, “Haven’t I waited long enough, Els?”

Ellie only responded with a moan as you sunk your teeth into the soft flesh of her thigh and pressed the heel of your palm to her underwear. You grinned against her skin when she cursed, grinding down into you. You soothed the bite with your tongue and backed away to admire the red beginnings of another bruise.

Ellie groaned, twisting her fingers in the sheets when you ground your palm into her. “Fuck, I’ve waited long enough too, right?”

You couldn’t hold back your grin, tugging at her boxers so she would lift her hips. With her underwear around her ankles, Ellie lifted herself up on her elbows so she could look down at you. Whatever she saw - you on your knees between her legs, lips parted so your hot breath fanned over her - made her groan, another breathy curse falling from her lips. She reached down and carded her fingers through your hair, fingers soft against your temple.

You smiled, blinking coyly up at her, and said, “Little eager, aren’t you?” before pressing the flat of your tongue to her clit.

The moan that wracked through Ellie’s chest sent warmth spreading through your stomach, an ache pooling between your legs. You raised your eyes to watch her as you licked a slow, painstaking stripe over her slit, watching the way her mouth fell open in a choked gasp. The metallic taste of her on your tongue made your head spin; you moaned when she twisted her fingers in your hair, delicious pain stinging your scalp when she tugged.

Ellie gasped your name like it was a promise. “Fuck - what the fuck -” Nonsensical words dripped from her lips with abandon, sweet as honey to your ears. When you ducked your head down to press your tongue inside her, a brief, hot pressure, her fingers tightened in your hair, her voice hitching when she cursed again, her words slurring together.

You wrapped one arm around her thigh, feeling the muscle trembling as you pressed your fingers into the soft flesh. You ran your other hand up her stomach, feeling the way her breath quickened in the rise and fall of her chest. Stretching further, you flicked your thumb over her nipple and tightened your arm around her thigh when her hips bucked, holding her in place.

You wrapped your lips around her clit, sucking it into your mouth and fighting back a smile at the keening whine it pulled from her. Her fist in your hair tugged you closer, guiding you exactly where she wanted you - and how could you resist her when she was chanting your name like a prayer?

A shudder wracked through Ellie’s body when you flicked your tongue over her clit, lapping at her like you were starving. (After waiting so long to taste her, you might as well have been.) She groaned when you pinched her nipple between your fingers, her thighs clamping around your ears. Her legs shook when she came, your name on her tongue as though it were the only word she knew. You coaxed her through it, the flat of your tongue licking over her clit until she was gasping for breath, her hips slumping back against the bed.

You peppered kisses over her thighs as she came down, your hand brushing across her stomach in soothing circles. Your knees ached from the cold floor, the carpet burning against your skin, but you couldn’t convince yourself to move just yet. When you glanced up at her, Ellie was looking down at you with glassy eyes; she had slumped back a little against her elbows, her limbs jelly - you tried not to let that go to your head - but she held out a hand to you, grasping for you. “Fuck, come here.”

You both took the time to finally scoot further up the bed, Ellie's head propped on her pillow, her hair a messy halo around her. She pulled you on top of her, bracing her hands on your hips as you straddled one of her legs. When you leaned down, she tilted her chin up to meet you, kissing you lazily, licking into your mouth like she had all the time in the world - like she could kiss you forever and it still wouldn't be enough. With your elbows braced on either side of her head, it felt like you were both in a small bubble, the world left outside to wait for you. Fuck, maybe you did have all the time in the world.

You gasped when Ellie raised her leg, pressing it between your thighs with an intoxicating pressure. She used her hands on your hips to push you down, guiding you as you grinded down against her. She broke away from the kiss, taking a moment to just look at you. Her pupils were blown, swallowing the green entirely.

She grinned, endearingly lopsided, and murmured, “Now you're wearing too many clothes.” You whined a protest when she took her hands off your hips, but she only reached behind you to fumble with the clasp of your bra. It took her a few tries - you bit back a laugh when she cursed in frustration - and she threw it across the room when she finally got off.

“Who the fuck designed those things?” she grumbled, fingers quick on the button on your jeans.

You got off of her for only a moment, just long enough to kick your jeans and underwear off, but each second her skin wasn't on yours was agony. Your clothes hadn’t even fallen to the floor before Ellie was pulling you back in by the nape of your neck, her other hand guiding your hips back over her leg as she kissed you with a hunger that may as well have devoured you. You hissed when her teeth sunk into your lip, her tongue soothing over it before licking into your mouth.

Your breath caught on a broken moan when she pressed her thumb into the dips of your hips, pressing you back to grind against her leg. The feeling of your bare pussy sliding against her thigh made you lightheaded, the dizzying pressure sending sparks through your stomach. Ellie's fingers still on the back of your head twisted in your hair, giving it an experimental tug; you felt her smile against your lips when you whined. You were pliable under her hands, your hips stuttering against her leg.

Ellie pulled away, pulling you back by your hair just far enough away for her to look at you; her eyes raked over your body with a hunger that set you nerves on fire, looking ready to devour you.

“God, look at you,” she breathed, raising her leg just slightly, the added pressure making your heart stop. Releasing your hair, her hand ran down your side, sliding across your chest. You moaned when her thumb grazed over your nipple, your hips stuttering; her other hand on your hip tightened, fingers digging into the bone. “So fucking wet for me and I've hardly even touched you.”

“Shit,” you cursed when Ellie bucked her hips, her thigh grinding into you. You tried to glare down at her even though you knew your own traitorous eyes betrayed your growing desperation. Her cocky smile didn’t quite land, its impact softened by the way she watched your lips in fascination, her pupils blown - you couldn’t see the green anymore. Your voice wasn’t nearly as hard as you wanted it to be, your want softening the words: “Fuck off, Els, don’t be a dick.”

“Am I being a dick?” she asked in mock offense, pouting up at you. “Good things come and all that shit, right?” Ever as she was teasing you, Ellie’s hand crept down your stomach, fingers warm against your hungry skin. She lowered her leg just enough to slide her hand between your thighs. You gasped, feeling lightning in your veins when those calloused fingers slid over your clit, already wet with want. Her eyes darkened, her lips parting. She slowly circled your clit, sending your hips jerking into her, and said, “Fuck, look at you. God, I finally get to see you like this….”

You struggled to speak past the breathy moans beginning to drip from your lips: “Finally? How - ah - fuck - how long - how long have you…?” You couldn’t think of a way to finish that sentence, your thoughts clouding over when Ellie dipped just the tips of her fingers briefly inside you, gathering your wetness.

“Like you said,” she murmured, finally pushing two fingers slowly inside you; even as she kept talking, she watched your face carefully, searching for any sign of discomfort, “a long fucking time.”

Your jaw went slack when she curled her fingers, gasping when she found that spot that made you see stars. She paused, as though giving you a moment to adjust, unaware of just how many times you had done this with your own fingers.

“Shit, Ellie,” you moaned, canting your hips down into her hand. She adjusted her arm, positioning herself so that the heel of her hand pressed to your clit, pulling another breathy moan from your lips. Her other hand was still on your hip; she pushed you back, guiding you to grind on her fingers. “Ah - fuck.”

She watched you carefully, fascinated by the way your eyes rolled back in your head, your brow furrowed; you felt her own wetness on your thigh again. Her voice was so fucking breathy when she said, “How long have you wanted this, baby?” She hummed; releasing your hip, she ran her hand up your side to knead at your tit, her fingers so careful against you. You groaned low in your throat when she flicked her thumb over your nipple. “How many times have you come thinking of me? Did you imagine my fingers inside you, angel? Did you moan my name?”

You couldn’t even think of a snarky response; you were too distracted by the way her fingers curled inside you as you fucked yourself against her. Her rough palm slid deliciously against your clit, grinding into her with a growing desperation that made your thighs shake. Your shoulders ached from holding yourself over her but it was only an afterthought as you felt a tight warmth building in your stomach. You leaned down just enough to kiss her, moaning into her mouth when words failed you.

“Fuck, look at you,” Ellie repeated, groaning when your hips stuttered. You were lightheaded, fucking yourself desperately on her fingers, grinding down against her palm and chasing that intoxicating warmth spreading inside. “So fucking pretty for me.”

She kissed you as you came, licking into your mouth and tasting herself on your tongue. You pressed your clit down into the heel of her hand, riding it out, feeling the way that warmth spread down to your fingers. Ellie broke away from the kiss to trail her lips down your neck, leaving wet kisses along your skin and saving every broken moan that was gasped right into her ear.

Ellie didn’t move as you came down, letting you ride out your high, tracing gentle circles down your side. You slumped against her, your arms giving out; your weight landing on her forced all the air from her lungs. She only laughed breathlessly.

It was several long moments before you were able to move again. Ellie ran her fingers through your hair as you gasped into her neck; she hummed absently and you could feel the vibration against your lips.

When you were able to, you slowly lifted yourself off of her, wincing slightly at the sudden emptiness. With gentle hands, she guided you back down to lay beside her; you curled up against her without waiting for her invitation, resting a hand on her bare chest so you could feel the steady pounding of her heart.

Ellie didn’t wait for invitation either before she wrapped her arms around you, pulling you closer; she was blissfully warm against the suddenly cold air. Something tugged pleasantly at your chest at the realization that you would no longer have to monitor your own movements so carefully - you could touch her, you realized, any time you wanted now. God, how were you going to ever stop now?

Without anything else to say, you sighed against her skin: “A long fucking time.”

Ellie hummed, giggling at your delayed answer. The fairy lights on her walls cast the room in a warm glow; with the hazy lights around you, you would almost believe this was a dream if Ellie wasn’t so solid and warm beneath your fingers. You traced the freckles across her chest, connecting constellations you had seen her chart before.

Her voice was so quiet in the small room when she asked, “What do we do now?”

You hummed, feeling sleep winning the war inside you. “We can figure that out tomorrow,” you said, pressing a kiss to her collarbone. Tilting your head, you leaned up just enough to kiss her, warm and deep and breathless, before moving away to meet her eyes. “Just don’t fucking run off again, okay?”

#ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #lesbian smut #ellie x you #ellie the last of us #ellie williams tlou #tlou smut #tlou 2 x reader #sorry for the novel #hope u enjoyed #smash that like button idk

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headkiss · 1 year

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Hi!! could I request a story with Eddie where he goes to the drama room at school to set up for a Hellfire campaign, but finds a girl!reader in the drama room crying? And he gets all protective cause he recognizes her (the shy girl in his classes!), major fluff lol❤️

hi lovely!!! i hope u like it tysm for requesting :D | 0.6k fluff and a pinch of hurt/comfort

Eddie’s always buzzing to set up for Hellfire.

It’s funny, the only part of school he enjoys is the room that allows him to hold his campaigns, to be around the only people he feels somewhat normal around. His hands are full with his notebooks and supplies as he makes his way down the halls.

You were hiding in the first room you passed, your watery eyes blurring your vision. The last thing you wanted was for people to see you cry, to let them win. It was a stupid little comment after all, but it hit you the way they wanted; where it hurt.

The twist of the doorknob has you hastily wiping at your cheeks and eyes to try and lessen the traces of your tears. You shake your hands, breathe deep, and try to make it seem like you were okay.

Eddie’s shocked to see you when he walks in. He’s even more shocked to notice that you’ve been crying.

He doesn’t know you well, but he knows that you’re one of the only people outside of his friends who’s been kind to him, and that you’re quiet with most people. He sets his stuff down quickly.

“What’s wrong?” Is the first thing he says.

“Nothing,” you stand, ready to make your escape. “I’m fine, really.”

He catches you on your way out, blocking your path. Eddie has never really been one to get in people’s business, let alone care about it, but for some reason, he cares about this. He cares about whatever’s making someone as sweet as you cry.

“Woah, stop. I can tell you’re not,” he softens his voice for the next bit, “you’ve been crying.”

“It’s dumb.”

“It’s not if it’s making you upset. Come on, I’ve got time before Hellfire starts.”

“I really don’t want to bother you with it, Eddie.”

He leans on the table, making himself comfortable.

“You’re no bother, babe.”

You’ve never been inclined to talk to people, never wanted to share too much or speak for long, but Eddie makes you feel comfortable somehow. This boy, who you only know from a few classes, is easier to talk to than most people you know.

What’s up with that?

“Just some girls like to say stuff to me,” you shrug it off.

“That’s not dumb at all. You don’t deserve that, nobody does,” especially not you, he thinks. “Want me to go tell ‘em off?”

“Don’t do that.”

“I will, seriously,” he moves towards the door, but you stop him with two hands on his chest.

“I appreciate the thought, Eddie, but it’s fine, really. I’m used to it.”

“Nobody should be used to this stuff.”

“You are, too. I know how people treat you.”

“This isn’t about me, okay? Listen, you’re nice, and pretty, and the people that bug you are idiots. Complete idiots, because who picks on the shy people, huh? Only idiots, I think.”

You don’t know why his reassurance and comfort brings tears to your eyes all over again, but it does. He’s not at all what everyone says he is and it’s never been clearer.

He notices the shine of tears in your waterline, “aw, hey, I didn’t say all that to make you cry again. C’mere.”

He wraps you in a hug before you can even process it. His arms wrap around your shoulders, yours eventually go around his middle. He hugs you until you calm down again, and even then, you don’t feel ready to let go.

“Ever played D&D?” He asks.

You shake your head.

“Wanna stick around and learn?”

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itsjustaninchident · 5 months

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Tolerate It

Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader

summary: Y/N cries almost about everything but don't worry Charles is there, ready to wipe her tears away.

warning/s: angst???? and fluff

author's note: idk if i gave this justice, this is like a spur of the moment thing.

Y/N is definitely an empath, she sees stray cats and dogs on the street? she'll pet and cry for them, if only she could take all of them home. Old people alone? Bawl her eyes out. Kids that ask for money on the streets? Think how life must've treated them.

But at least she has a boyfriend to run to when it gets too hard for her, to breathe while she cries her heart out. Arms ready for her to run to and his shirt ready to get soaked by her salty tears. Must've been the reason she's made it to (your age), she has a comforting boyfriend who never found it weird she cries at all the most mundane things.

She's watching a sad movie? Don't worry Charles is there to give her tissues and feed her ice cream. "You've watched this a hundred times but never fail to cry as hard as the last time you've watched it. Nonetheless, you're adorable so you get a pass." And that would put a smile on her while Charles dry her tears and kiss her softly on her nose.

She listens to songs and suddenly a cute/angsty/happy lyric comes on? He'll rub her back and hug her through it. "It's okay, Love. Taylor Swift was probably chilling while she writes 'I know my love should be celebrated, but you tolerate it.'" Charles tries to convince her while she cries harder upon hearing the lyrics, "Okay, I am sorry. I probably shouldn't sing anymore." Which cut her crying session with a meek laugh bubbling her throat. "There's your pretty smile." He utters with full adoration. He probably still finds her gorgeous even when she's breaking down, Charles will find her pretty as much.

She stumbles upon a sad and tragic couple's story on tiktok whom she's never met in real life? Charles is right there to assure her it won't happen to them. "It was probably orchestrated, you know. Besides, we're like the perfect pair and I couldn't ask for more." He assures her rubbing circles on her back as she lay down on his chest, content to hear how his heart beats for her.

And that's what makes them a perfect couple, he was always there in her 'ugly crying' days, always ready to wipe her tears, always ready to give her comforting words "It's okay, mon cheri. I am here. I'll always love you." He says in the softest voice and all her tears will dry and a smile will shine on her face again. And just like that all her worries will fade, all the sad things she's thought of are fading into the background as if she never thought of it at all. She was able to get through the bad and sad days with him by her side, ready to wipe the tears and put a smile on her face.

She was so used to him being there for her that when he’s no longer present, she feels a hole in her heart. There's no one to wipe the tears away rather the one she's crying for, no one making her laugh to ease the pain instead he's the reason for the pain, no one to run to when she's sad because the slightest thought of him makes her miserable already, how will she recover now when the person who takes away her sadness is now the reason why she's sad?

please I would love to hear a feedback about this one, it's like a first for me to write something so angsty????? I hate angst so I am sorry if I made u believe it will all be alright all along..... Anyway please do some request because request box is open!!! hehe happy holidays

#fluff #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #angst #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc angst

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arminsumi · 6 months

Note

Can i request megumi comforting reader after a bad day? i need happy comfort fluff today and you words are magic

★ Stargazing with Megumi

★ Pairings : fem reader / Megumi

★ Synopsis : Megumi takes you stargazing. Who knew he was such a space nerd?

★ Content : fluff, comfort, cheesy/dorky flirting

★ Note : 🪄🔮 sprinkling cosmic happiness dust on u rn!! hope u feel better!!

Arms spread out, laid on your back in the cool grass as a humid summer breeze drifts by, looking up at the dusky purple sky as stars slowly start to appear one by one.

Megumi shifts around next to you, trying to get comfortable. He bends his knees, you glance at his legs and note how much longer his legs are than yours.

A soft sigh leaves his nose. He brings his hands together over his midriff and fidgets his fingers while stealing sideways glances of you.

One particular star in the sky has caught your attention. It shines like a jewel. You blink at it, ignoring all the other littler stars that are coming out.

"Megumi, which star is that?" you ask.

"That's Venus."

You stare at Venus. "Why is it so much brighter than the rest?" you wonder aloud.

Megumi looks over at you, his heart throbs, then he looks back to Venus.

"Because it has thick clouds that reflect lots of sunlight." he answers your curiosity, "Uh, and it's the closest to earth. You know, it's also the hottest planet in our solar system — because of its clouds."

He goes on a long, dorky ramble about planets and constellations. You smile and listen to him geek out about space.

⁕⁕⁕⁕

Just a few hours earlier, Megumi had found you lingering gloomily on the steps outside Jujutsu High.

He did a double take and furrowed his brows when he saw your weighted expression. Characteristically, he sunk his hands into his pockets and approached you coolly.

"What's that heavy face for?" he asked.

"Bad day." you shrugged.

"Oh..." he stiffened, "What happened? Do you want to talk about it?" he asked softly.

"No, nothing in particular happened." you replied, "It's just been one of those days, you know?"

He scrambled his brain for ideas that could make you feel better.

What would the others do?

What would Yuji do? He'd crack jokes until you smiled and then infect you with his contagious laughter. What would Nobara do? She'd take you out on the town for retail therapy — and hype you up in the fitting rooms until you felt like the hottest person in the world. What would Gojo do? Probably give you one of those bone-breaking hugs while saying something dumb like "Don't be sad, it's just life, kid."

But joking didn't come naturally to Megumi, and he didn't believe in retail therapy, and he was too shy and reserved to give you a bone-breaking hug, and he was too sensitive as a person to tell you to just get over it.

"Uh, do you want to stargaze with me?" he asked.

That was the only idea he could come up with. Laying in the grass and stargazing was something he did when life exhausted or disappointed him. The stars could call back his calmness.

⁕⁕⁕⁕

"... I feel bad for Mercury, it must be lonely without moons." Megumi finishes his long ramble about Mercury.

"I think I'm Mercury." you joke, laughing at yourself.

Megumi looks over at you, "Then I'll be your moon and keep you company."

Your cheeks warm up.

"Okay, then let's tell 'em to rename Mercury to Megumi and throw a me into its orbit, too."

Megumi fidgets with his fingers more as you and him flirt like dorks.

"... yeah, and then you can orbit around me." he nods.

"Sounds like a good time. I'd love to orbit around you."

His cheeks go red, but the lamps are too far away to illuminate his face and reveal his blush to you. So you just barely see his lips purse together into a smile.

"I'd also love to orbit around you. I could be like your moon admirer."

You burst out laughing at last, and then Megumi feels accomplished; he could actually fix your mood with some stargazing and dorky astral flirting.

For the rest of the night, he teaches you how to spot famous constellations and passionately talks about outer space. At some point, when he's saying something about Pluto, you zone out to his voice.

"... and you know, personally, if I were Pluto I'd be enraged. How dare they."

"You got a bone to pick with NASA, Megumi?" you chuckle.

"It wasn't NASA it was the IAU. And yes I have a bone to pick with them."

"So, why was Pluto downgraded to a dwarf planet?" you ask.

Megumi clicks his tongue, "Uhhh... something about it not absorbing surrounding debris or something? Like asteroids and stuff. But jeez, maybe the asteroids are Pluto's friends and he doesn't wanna absorb them, you know?"

You turn on your side and use your arm as a pillow. Megumi feels you looking at him, so he looks over at you.

"You're quite passionate."

"That's a nice way of calling me a space nerd."

"No, I mean it! I hardly ever see you talking so heatedly about anything. You're usually pretty calm."

Megumi smiles a little. "Bet it's funny to see me heated about big rocks floating in a vacuum, huh?"

"Yeah it's hilarious. Anyways... we should get back before we fall asleep here."

"Have you never slept under the stars? It's a great experience." Megumi says.

"I have not. But it's getting cold so... you better keep me warm."

Megumi tenses up as you snuggle him. The sudden closeness and feeling of your warmth and softness takes him aback and he goes completely silent.

You rest your head in the crook of his shoulder, sinking into him like a pillow.

"Hey Megumi?"

"Yes?"

"Isn't Venus the planet of love?"

"Yes...?"

"Nothing, nothing... just thinking."

His heart pounds.

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

#fluff #sfw #jjk fluff #megumi fluff #megumi x reader #megumi #megumi fushiguro #megumi x fem reader #megumi x y/n #megumi x you #jjk megumi #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #drabble #arminsumi

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cashmoneyyysstuff · 1 month

Text

to the moon and back ♡

in which : shoto finds out that space smells like seared steak and that footsteps on the moon last forever.

this is based on an oc so reader knows a lot of space facts lololol, fem reader, space nerd reader, shoto likes listening, shoto is hopelessly in love with reader n vice versa, mushy feelings yucky, kissing, shotos a lil awkward but he tries, shoto n reader r third years might be a lil ooc, lemme know if u missed sum else ! <3 (p.s. might change the image)

"did you know that footsteps on the moon last forever ?"

shoto todoroki is laying outside on the grass stargazing with you after curfew. usually he wouldn’t imagine doing this in his free time, but you’d flashed him your cutest, almost mischievous ‘let’s go do something bad’ grin, and he couldn’t even think about refusing.

so now he’s laying here on the grass next to you.

“oh wow, really ?”

you hum in response “ because there’s no wind or water erosion on the moon,” you explain “ so if you were to walk on it, the footprints would probably be there for millions of years.”

he nods. he likes when you go off on tangents about little space facts you know because they could be quite interesting, but also because he gets to hear you speak and he likes that. he could listen to you talking about paint drying for hours on end, but he thinks it’s even more enjoyable when you talk about something you’re passionate about.

he wishes he could sound more interested, because he really is. he wishes his voice could project like kirishima’s or bakugou’s. that he could sound as excited and cheerful as midoriya sometimes. but you don’t seem to mind. shoto doesn’t want you to feel like you’re talking to a wall so he continues.

“i didn’t know that.” yikes. not his best line, but he’s trying.

“now you do.” you respond easily. you don’t sound annoyed or offended by his lack of response, content to do most of the talking between you two.

shoto finds he can’t keep conversations flowing very well, not like you do. and when he does try to even he knows how awkward it can come across. he doesn’t force himself with you because it’s polite or the right thing to do, shoto wants to hear more facts, he likes them. and he likes you.

so it’s a little broken and choppy, talking with him alone like this, but you don’t mind and you keep talking. and shoto delights in listening to you.

“and apparently, space smells like seared steak.”

that has him raising a brow, he turns his head to you and you look back. a smile creeps onto your face and shoto could look at you like this for hours. it’s like you’re glowing, the stars could try as hard as they could, but they could never compare to you and the bright shine in your eyes.

“really ?”

“yeah.”

“how ?”

you beam, shoto knowing you’re about to go on one of your nerdy tangents, as you call them, feels himself smile back softly.

“i don’t really know,” you start “ but astronauts have reported that, apparently, space has a very distinct smell.”

“and that smell is the smell of seared steak ?” shoto asks skeptically.

“yup ! or hot metal, but i like the steak better.” you giggle. shoto smiles at you. he hopes you keep talking the whole night, even if, realistically, you’d have to leave soon if you wanted to be spared of mr aizawa’s lecture. but he’s not worried about getting in trouble right now. he’s not worried about much when he’s with you.

shoto has trouble keeping conversations flowing, but when he’s invested things come out more naturally for him. he couldn’t be more grateful when a thought pops into his mind “you sure know a lot about space.”

“s’cus i wanted to be an astronaut when i was a kid.” his eyes widen. “really ?”

“yeah, somewhere along the line i remember wanting to go to space."

“i thought you wanted to be a hero since you were a kid” he recalls you telling him that in passing one time. he never imagined being one for sentimental conversations but he seems to have a lot of thoughts when he’s with you. he doesn’t know why he does, but you manage to squeeze them out of him regardless.

“what’s wrong with having a side gig ?” you chuckle. shoto huffs out a light laugh at your joke, his eyes softening.

“what about you,” you turn onto your side to fully look at him. your eyes shine bright, they’re soft gazing at him, and shoto can’t help but want to kiss you. he does the same and lays on his side. “did you wanna be something other than a hero, shoto ?”

he likes it when you say his name, he likes hearing you. things always get a bit more personal when you talk to him like that, and he can’t help getting sucked into you like you’re a black hole (that he found out, thanks to you, aren’t really black).

he thinks about your question, staring off “i think i wanted to be a gardener..” he admits shyly, looking at you again. your face brightens like no star ever could and shoto really wants to kiss you.

“yeah ?”

“yeah, somewhere along the line.” he sighs, mimicking your words

“that’s so cute. very like you.” you chirp, he feels embarrassment creep up on him, cheeks darkening the slightest bit.

“is it ?” he mumbles. you laugh and it makes him feel a bit better.

"yeah, in a way." you beam. it makes millions of little stars spark and crackle in his stomach. like the one's in the sky and the one's in your eyes and todoroki really wants to kiss you.

" can i kiss you ?" he asks bluntly, he doesn't see the point in beating around the bush but his heart beats hard against his ribcage either way. you haven't been dating for that long, becoming official only now in your third year, but you've been friends for years now. and you know he's not one to be shy about what he wants. he knows you do when you smile harder at him with a flustered giggle, and he knows he loves you.

"sure you can." you whisper shyly. he doesn't waste any more time after that, and leans in, propping himself up on his shoulder. he likes to just look at you, placing his hand against your cheek and brushing at your skin with his index finger. his eyes peer into yours softly, while your gaze darts away from him in embarrassment.

"shoto.." you mumble. he hums.

"you're staring.." you snicker breathlessly. he hums again, not denying your words.

"i can't help it. you're mesmerizing, i can't look away even if i wanted to." you know he's not being romantic on purpose to possibly try to woo you, you've known him long enough to know that he truly means what he's saying. and that has your whole body burning like the sun.

"i didn't see myself as mesmerizing." you can just barely hear your voice above the wind. but he's so close to you he can, and you can too when he speaks "but you are."

you shake your head "think that's you, handsome." you reach a hand up to rub at his cheek, your thumb running over the bottom of his scar and his eyes close in content. handsome, he likes it when you call him that. he likes it when you call him anything as long as you do it like that. despite losing himself in the feeling of you, he manages to shake his head.

"you are." he insists and you can't argue with him further when he presses his lips to yours. urgently yet so, so softly.

it makes you dizzy, he makes you dizzy. you have to grip at the back of his shirt to support yourself. he follows you, allowing you all of him to make sure you’re comfortable as he leans you back to lay on your back to kiss you longer, deeper. he sighs against your mouth. he reaches for your hands and you give them to him. he's soft, so soft with you and on you, but his grip on your hands is firm and you realize you're not the only one getting dizzy.

"i love you." he breathes against your lips, he dives back in to place a sweet peck against them "so much." your grip on his shoulder tightens because he makes you so dizzy. he makes you feel like you're floating around in space "i love you too." you sigh shakily.

he kisses you again, it's slow and sweet and it's just like him. he pulls away with a small smile and you know you love shoto todoroki so much. it makes your heart pound and you don't know what to say. but he seems to.

"do you still want to go to space ?" he asks, chest heaving slightly.

you're shocked "..what ?"

"would you still want to go ?" he asks. you try to search around on his face to see if he was kidding, but you don't see a single sign of mischief or amusement on his features.

"i don't know if i'd have the time." you joke, a small smile breaks on his face.

"but if you did." he urges, you hum at the hypothetical, playing around with his hair while he sighs happily.

"well, if i did.." you think "then yeah i probably would. maybe leave my footprint on the moon while i'm at it." you snort.

"then i'll take you." shoto smiles. and after a beat passes you can't help but laugh incredulously.

"you're—" you interrupt yourself with a watery laugh "you're gonna take me to space ?" you ask. he grins, and you don't see it much so it makes your heart stutter and your laughter gets caught in your throat.

"mhm." he answers, eyes brighter than the stars above you "i'll take you, and then you can leave your footprint on the moon."

shoto knows he can't actually take you. realistically, it'd be impossible. but he finds he doesn't care much about realistically's when he's with you.

you know it's probably impossible for him to actually take you to space, but you'll believe in theories and you'll believe in him when he looks at you like you'd hung up the moon and the stars in the sky.

"we'll leave our footprints on the moon." you correct. your boyfriend laughs softly to himself and he nods.

"alright."

"and then we'll go back in a million years to see if they're still there, deal ?"

"alright." he laughs again at your silly arrangement, and he leans down when you pull him in closer to you "deal." and you get a last giggle in before he presses his lips to yours again.

shoto has no doubt that even in a million years, the mark you've left on his heart will never dissapear.

bleeehh i never know how to end fics !! :P

#shoto todoroki x you #not proofread but will fix later !#shoto todoroki x reader #shoto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #shoto x you #shoto x y/n #shouto x you #shouto drabble #todoroki shouto x reader #shouto x reader #mha x reader #ive been thinkin about shosho alot lately so here you are :3 !!#take my psycho ramblings while i sprint away before runnin out of breath after 5 good seconds

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littlemissayu · 2 months

Text

Wht Song would play in your Rom-Com?

A/N: Kinda surprising myself by posting twice today but hey I did it!! Lmk if you guys want a pt2 bc I don’t wanna write this just for you guys to not care for it or want smth else.

Pt2

Pairings: Heartsabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, and Scarabia x reader(romantic)

Dancing in the Moonlight by Toploader

Now I can see this playing out in a montage of you two getting closer somehow; being forced to work together and slowly warming up to each other(academic/work rivals or js u 2 being complete opposites etc.) or even just going from daily acquaintances, maybe you work at his local bakery or coffee shop, and you guys get closer and closer til one of you get the nerve to ask the other out.

Honeypie by JAWNY

This plays out when you guys are having your moment, yk the one where you just think to yourself, I can totally tell they love each other and not just cause the movie is telling you. You two are either talking about something you both feel passionate about and you just bounce off each other clearly feeling at home with this person. Or maybe you guys are just there together and something about the energy or aura of what you doing or not doing just radiates love.

Magic by One Direction

Playing while it finally hits him that he is totally head over heels for you, and he accepts it. He probably had a lurking feeling beforehand but now he is absolutely sure that he, Cater Diamond, is in love with you.

Come and Get Your Love by Redbone

This song plays out during your first date montage. It’s a supercute new love type of montage as you guys are just trying to impress each while being all lovey-dovey

Teenage Dirtbag by Wheatus

I think this one is pretty self-explanatory. He's head over heels for you and this song plays during another montage of you two being silly goofy teenagers in love just running around giving everyone toothaches.

This Love by Maroon 5

This song plays while subtly flirting with(read as obviously pining over) you. You are making him work for it of course and it just makes him more determined to make you his. It will play again at the end of the movie too when you guys are finally together and everyone who’s watching you guys love story(in the movie or not) can finally rest now that you two are together while listening to a fun song.

Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy by Queen

I can so picture this playing in a scene where you guys bond over having to do a task(like maybe cleaning a mess you two made) together as a new couple and you guys are just having the best time together being all in love and stuff. The sun is softly shining through a window and you clean, stealing kisses and flirting. It’s just such a cute scene.

My Girl by the Temptations

You can’t convince me that this song isn’t playing in a scene where you guys are having the first dance at your wedding. OR (another) montage of you guys being back at his home as he shows you the beauty of it and while you fall in love with his home he falls harder for you.

Ain’t no Mountain High Enough by Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell

I don’t know why my brain has decided that the outro for Azul’s heartfelt closing song of his heartwarming, emotional, fluff filled Romcom. My thoughts refuse to see otherwise. Like just imagine when you uys finally kiss for the first time and you just hear the mesmerizing voices of Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell are just transitioning you over to the end montage of the life you and Azul live together with part of the credits playing and the end is a heartfelt message about love pertaining to the movie and then the very last credits roll.

Stand By Me by Ben E. King

Imagine the two of you dancing together confessing your feelings after being separated by your busy lives for years and after a reunion you two finally meet up and slowly what the two of you thought was just a crush forms into a beautiful love that he professes to you as you two dance in the moonlight. The atmosphere is romantic and his voice is mesmerizing; you two are just so in love.

Lay All Your Love on Me by Abba; Mamma Mia Ver.

Is this because of the scene during this song? Absolutely! Bc now that I got it into my head it’s never going to leave, just think about it. You two are just elling each other that you want the other to give you their everything. Also I this upbeat song just feels somewhat right for Floyd(i could be wrong tho)

Partners in Crime by Set it Off & Ash Castello

Just imagine the opening and closing song being this song because throughout the movie it’s about the two of you basically being Bonnie and Clyde, traveling across all of Twisted Wonderland causing crimes all by being crazy in love. Every hostage you’ve had to hold can always say one thing “They are mad for each other”. The song starts while we see you guys rob a bank and as the song says at the end the two of you are shot when cornered by the police whether you two die or not is dependent on whether the two of you get a sequel but who knows???

Stupid in Love by MAX and HUH YUNJIN

Are you kidding me?? This would be you guys' theme song. Just imagine this song being about the two of you about to get married but everyone says you guys are rushing it but like WHO CARES?? You two are so in love it makes everyone sick. This plays during the wedding and at the end when whatever your main conflict is gets solved. Just imagine you two finally happy and at the end you two are looking over a beautiful sunset on magic carpet.

LoveGame by Lady GaGa

You guys are enemies to lovers and this is the song that plays during your rivalry montage. Let’s say your Kalim’s cousin doesn't trust him in the slightest and he finds you annoying, because if you keep trying to investigate it could affect him and his family so you two are constantly going toe to toe and the tension is so thick, a butcher would struggle to cut it. During the montage of you two being enemies in public but lovers in private because you guys finally sliced the tension but you don’t want to reveal anything yet.

A/N: I’m not 100% on all of these but it was fun to do so even if you guys don’t specifically say you want a part 2 i might js make it for fun but do interact and lmk, it motivates me even to get out more content!! All my love!!

Heartsabyul Masterlist

Savanaclaw Masterlist

Octavinelle Masterlist

Scarabia Masterlist

TWST Masterlist

Grand Masterlist

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #fluff #riddle rosehearts x reader #cater diamond x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #romcom #trey clover x reader #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #jack howl x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader #kalim al asim x reader #jamil viper x reader

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pixiesfz · 5 months

Note

could you write about sam being sick and still playing through a game and the reader just takes care of her afterwards etc? i loved your jessie fic so much 😭😭🫶🏼

Stubborn girls s.k x r

plot: After a family night out Sam gets food poisoning, y/n tells her not to play but she doesn’t listen.

warning: reader and Sam have a child, sickness and vomiting , I’m writing this on my phone, I also don’t know how to cure food poisoning so just go with it

“I liked that place” You said as Sam opened the door for you and your sleeping daughter who you know held “I’m not sure my stomach isn’t feeling right”

“Well that is because you got the seafood which I said don’t get because-“

You were cut off as your wife ran to the toilet it wasn’t till later you heard Sam hurling up the last of her dinner.

you walked to the bathroom with your little toddler still in your arms who now stirred awake.

“Sam?” You asked at the door “I’m alright” she said “you sure? The colour in your face says different” you pointed at her face as Sam once again had her face in the toilet.

“Mama sick” your toddler said from your shoulder and you nodded “yeah cause she ate the seafood” you mumbled and your wife groaned.

“Time to go to bed bubba” You told your daughter who merely nodded “Sam are you okay?” You asked her again and she nodded “It’s a one time thing I reckon” her Australian accent shining through, you nodded and walked your daughter to her room.

“Mama got game tomorrow” your daughter said and you nodded “correct but mama is sick and shouldn’t play” you smiled at your daughter even though your words were serious “but mama said she’s fine”

“Mama lies a lot”.

You made sure your daughter was in bed and asleep before you made your way to the kitchen and grabbed medicine and a washcloth which you put u der the cold water from the sink.

“Sammy” you sung out, expecting her to be in the bed but she was still in the bathroom. You sighed as you now knew that she shouldn’t play tomorrow.

Sam seemed to read your mind as she looked up to you “I’m fine I promise” she said but you shook your head “Your skin is pale, you have bags under your eyes and your head has been stuck in the toilet for about” you checked your watch “twenty minutes now”

“Twenty minutes?” Sam asked and you nodded “little darling was a bit woke when she heard you chuck up” you said before you sat down next to Sam and took off your shoes “I’m fine-“ “No you’re not” you cut off Sam.

You rose your brows at her which she looked away from “you have food poisoning” you told her before bringing the medication and the washcloth out.

Sam excepted it as you put it on her forehead “You know you can’t play tomorrow” you told her and she groaned “we are versing Arsenal tomorrow I am playing” she said “what and vomit all over the pitch, no way am I watching that” you said before filling up a glass of water.

“Here take these” you said before pushing the tablets out to her, she did and you stroked her hair “just know that your team would rather you play healthy rather than play sick” you said and she leaned into your touch “I love you” she said with a smile.

“Are you trying to trick me into telling you that you can play”

“No”

You looked at her again.

“Maybe” she admitted and you gave her a sweet kiss on her temple “you missed” she whispered, a joke between the two of you on how you had your first kiss.

“I am not kissing you on the lips until you drink that water and have those tablets” you said before sitting up “I’ll grab you pyjamas and I’ll put a bucket next to our bed, if you need to wake me then do” you told Sam with a stern voice as she usually would try to hide any sickness or injury from you.

You grabbed her a pair of trackie shorts and a used oversized top and a bucket before placing the bucket to Sam’s side of the bed and passing the clothing to her.

“I love you” Sam said “and I truly mean it this time” she smiled “I love you too, in sickness and in health” you joked before giving her a soft kiss on the lips.

You crashed into your bed fairly quickly after and fell asleep, when you woke up you went to cuddle into Sam only to find an empty space.

Opening your eyes, you groaned to see your wife not present in the bed, then you checked the clock to see the time.

10 am.

You shot up, you were supposed to be up at 8, your alarm should’ve woken you up it always does.

Then you saw the paper on top of Sam’s pillow.

‘I feel better now and went to the game, sorry’

“That evil little Australian mother fucker” you swore to yourself before you heard a gasp behind you.

“Mummy swore!” Your daughter said from behind you “no she didn’t” you said very quickly to the giggly girl

“You said fuck!” she yelled before running away.

You sighed to yourself as you ran your fi hers through your hair. Grabbing your phone you saw to see that Sam turned off your alarm.

You then called her in anger which she didn’t pick up. Rolling your eyes you got up and put your jeans and your Chelsea jersey on “Well if she says she’s fine then let’s go watch”.

You got ready quickly and then got your daughter ready who had thankfully have seemed to forget about her new word she had learned.

You out on her Chelsea beanie and top and you both drove to the game. It would be around the second half once you got there.

“Hey y/n where you been, did you sleep in?” One of Your girlfriends team mates sister teased as you sat in the family and friends section. “You can say something like that.

“Mama Sick!” Your daughter smiled to her and she nodded her head “I could tell something was off because right now we’re getting smashed” she said and you furrowed your brows “what?” She pointed at the score.

3-1

You let your daughter look over the gate as you shook your head and looked for Sam “can you see Mama?” You asked your daughter and she laughed “Mama off” she said and you looked to the corner to see Sam subbed off.

You hated to say it because you loved her so much but she looked terrible.

Her tan skinned turned green and her bags under eyes were so dark she must not have slept last night.

When the siren went You saw Millie who went to go to your daughter “get Sam” you told her as she picked your daughter up “Is Mama in trouble?” Millie sang out to your daughter who laughed at the older girl

“how bout, lie to your wife, turn her alarm off so she doesn’t know that your playing sick type of mad?” You said

“Mummy is very mad” your daughter told Millie who opened her eyes wide “I’ll go get her” she said and went off, you didn’t want to get mad at her in public so you shook your head “tell her to meet me at home”

When you next saw Sam she walked into the kitchen where you sat with your daughter, watching her favourite show and she walked up to you with her head down “What you upset that I didn’t wake up later?” You asked and she shook her head.

When she looked up your heart almost broke, her eyes were shiny and her face was red, she had been crying.

“I’m sorry” she said and sniffed and you quickly got yo and held her “it’s okay” you said before you shook your head “actually it’s not okay but we can get to that later” you told her as you rubbed her back up and down.

When she sat down next to you she put her head on your shoulder “I shouldn’t of played, I just put them one man down, I couldn’t do anything special” she said and you grabbed her hand “You don’t need to do something special every time you play Sam”

“I know since the World Cup eyes have been on you but I want you to know that you are allowed to make mistakes and take time for yourself without being a bad player or being selfish”

She looked up to you with glossy eyes “I love you so much, you always know what to say” you smiled “I know and that’s why you married me” you smirked, knowing this time you were right.

“Mummy said fuck!”

Both of your heads whipped to your daughter who was smiling with her doll.

“Mummy said what?” Sam asked your daughter with a smirk.

You were somehow both in the doghouse that night.

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whyareyouhere66 · 9 months

Note

I feel like it’s been forever since a new Harry Potter fic was written, so I’m here to request(if u feel like writing it ofc<3)!

Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Male!reader where reader likes to admire him from the background, but word gets out that they have a crush on him. Reader gets picked on for it because “why would Draco Malfoy of all people go for a Hufflepuff boy?”. U can choose what direction it goes in 👀 (unless you want me be more direct then I can add on to it!)

Yes! I’m here for it- hope you enjoy <3

Also, prefacing this by saying I don’t at all like Rowling or support her bullshit, this is just a cute request id like to do

CW: teasing directed towards reader, reader is like half an inch shorter than Draco (something like that, just for context) unedited (I’ll do it soon I promise) and makeout scene (spoilersssss uh oh)

Sound booms across the length of the long walls, the bustling Great Hall full of kids across grades eating their meals. Chicken, mashed potatoes, loafs spread out in baskets, it’s like a thanksgiving meal.

The sun, high in the sky, shines through the tall windows and creates a natural light to outshine the various floating candles. Down at one of the various tables, the Hufflepuff children sit at the wooden table and talk.

“I don’t think he understood the assignment, either.”

“He’s the one who wrote it!”

“Exactly the issue-“

Y/n, accompanied by F/n, sits across from another group at the decorated table. A yellow and black scarf sits loosely around his s/c shoulders, a few rings wrapped around his fingers. He takes another bite from his plate, listening to F/n and another student bicker quietly- the slightest pull of a smile rising on his lips.

“You guys still talking about Snape?” He asks, eyeing the two. They both nod.

“He’s so grumpy all the time, Y/n,” F/n complains, jutting his chin towards the stone faced man across the room. Y/n chuckles and shakes his head.

“Snape always knows what he’s doing.” He says, planning to check out of the conversation when words of disagreement are thrown his way.

Y/n moves to keep watching his friends- but his eyes flicker.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the platinum blonde hair his eyes always seem to catch. And suddenly, his friends’ words are but mush against his ears.

Draco sits at the Slytherin table, green banners hanging above his head just like the yellow ones above Y/n’s.

He has a normal scowl, that would dull anyone else’s face if it weren’t his. As his friends continue to talk, though, his eyebrow lifts and a smooth smirk almost replaces it.

And oh, how pretty his lips are.

Y/n wishes he could hide the thoughts as they ring in his head, wishing his small smile wasn’t such a giveaway.

“Y/n? Did we lose you again?” The girl across the table asks, bangs falling into her face. Grace, is her name.

“Yeah, you look distracted.” F/n snickers, nudging Y/n’s elbow because unlike the others, he knows exactly where his best friend’s gaze is lingering.

Blood rushes to Y/n’s face, realizing how obvious he had been just now.

“I’m fine.” He insists, elbowing F/n right back. The others shrug it off, not noticing how one last glance is shot towards Draco.

Lunch is closer to wrapping up when Y/n notices the time- 1:48.

“Oh, wait-“ he looks over at F/n. “Man, we gotta go-“

At this, the boy looks at the time and nods. They both grab their things, wishing goodbye to their friends- Ms. McGonagall would be expecting a finished project in the next hour.

They weave through the students crowded around tables, holding their bags close to their hips to take less room. Getting out early gets them more time, though their project was nearly done anyways Ms. McGonagall really talked this one up.

Stepping out through the giant wooden doors, Y/n breathes out.

“Alright, you have the-“ his words are cut short when someone steps into his path.

Looking up, he finds 3 people standing in front of him, having bumped into the first one. They’re all from Slytherin.

“Sorry, didn’t see you.” He tries to step around them, but the boy in front recognizes him and suddenly seems very interested.

“Wait a minute,” he steps in front of Y/n again, “Y/n.” His name on this strange boy’s tongue doesn’t sound like a question, honestly it feels threatening. Y/n furrows his eyebrows, and steps back.

“Uh, yeah?” There’s an intimidating look in the Slytherin boy’s eye- one that not even his friends know the reason for. They, as well as F/n, watch curiously.

“Aren’t you that Hufflepuff that has a crush on Malfoy?”

What.

Y/n’s heart stops, his eyes widen. Who is this kid?

“Huh?”

“Oh don’t think I haven’t seen anything,” confidence seems to build in the boys voice, the look on Y/n’s face coming as confirmation for his words. “You’re always making puppy eyes at him- oh, I so knew it!”

The excitement in this boy’s voice is strange- was he betting on this? Does he not realize how creepy that feels?

“Wait, slow down,” one of the Slytherin’s step forward, wrapping her head around the news, “you like Malfoy? Really?”

Y/n doesn’t like the tone of her voice.

“A Hufflepuff? Liking Malfoy?” She scoffs, “oh please.”

Y/n feels too exposed, like he’s suddenly being poked and prodded from under a microscope.

How had they found out?

Who else knows?

He looks at F/n, eyes screaming for help. Another minute here, when kids could walk around the corner at any moment, hear his secret slowly leaking from the safety of his own self, and he might explode.

“You guys are on something strong, aren’t you?” F/n swoops in, trying to play it off and Y/n makes a mental note to remind the boy how grateful he is for him in a moment.

“Quit projecting, will you? Pathetic, really.” F/n says, though avoids any eye contact with the three. He shoves Y/n’s shoulder, who stumbles, and leads him away as quickly as possible.

By the time they get to the library, Y/n’s head is already swimming, mainly from embarrassment.

He never wanted anyone to know- he still doesn’t want that. This little “crush” was supposed to stay between him and F/n, for that was the only person he ever trusted to carry it.

But now? With some smug Slytherin boy walking around with his feelings cupped in the palm of his hand? Y/n’s lost his safety rail. Now, his feelings are vulnerable, ready to be spilled to Draco at any second.

Two hands hold his shoulders firmly, he recognizes them as F/n’s. No surprise, considering there’s barely any one else in the library right now. Y/n’s eyes dart to meet his.

“Hey, you alright?” He asks, and it takes an extra moment for the e/c eyed boy to come up with an answer.

“I think so.” He says, nodding. F/n copies the gesture.

“Good, that’s good. I’m sure not that many people know, ok?” He reassures Y/n, who’s grateful for the words as they bring back some stability.

“Right.”

Now that he’s out of that boys uncomfortable gaze, he doesn’t feel as panicked as he did before. More so, unsettled.

“Right, yeah, uh- let’s get back to the project.” With the nod of his head, and one last look, F/n is agreeing. The two boys sit down at one of the many tables, between two tall bookshelves.

‘Maybe it’s ok,’ Y/n thinks to himself, ‘not that many people know.’

You realize now, that you spoke too soon.

The next day comes, and you’re now standing in the bathroom wasting away time that’s supposed to be spent in Snape’s potions class. It’s empty, aside from you of course, nothing but the sound of a running faucet.

It’s so quiet that when the door creaks open, people stepping inside, your head snaps to the side, startled.

It’s two boys, both from Gryffindor, named Avery and Jaxon and you immediately recognize them from a few classes. You turn back to the sink.

Neither of them look at you, instead disappearing into two of the stalls.

By the time they’re both out of the stalls, you’re washing the final suds from your hands. From the mirror, you see their faces change, realizing who you are.

The air becomes unnecessarily tense, you’re unsure why, both of the boys are trying to pretend otherwise.

Avery and Jax glance at each other, walking to the sinks. And it’s not until Avery decides to speak, that the silence is again broken.

“Hey, um-“ you look at him, “I hope you don’t mind me asking this, but…” he looks hesitant to speak, like what he say might come off as offensive, something sensitive. Your curiosity only grows.

“Is it true, that you and Draco are dating?”

You nearly choke.

“What?” You asks, hating that this is the 2nd time Draco has been brought up to you.

“I mean, I heard that-“ Avery seems to notice the growing worry plastered on your face- it’s spreading. Your secret is spreading.

“Oh,” Avery begins to realize, “sorry, Y/n, that was a bit invasive.” His tone is calm, only slightly uncomfortable. Pretty much the opposite to you- itching to drop the conversation. But, you keep a calm face, shoving the gross feelings down.

“No it’s fine, um, why?” You can only hope your voice doesn’t give everything away.

“Oh, I just thought I heard a couple Slytherin kids talking about it.” Again, his voice feels too nonchalant. “Guess I was wrong.”

“Oh.” The slightest shake. Unlike Avery, though, Jax still seems interested.

“Wait- do you like him though?” This results in an elbow to rib, and Avery looks at him like a mother scolding their child.

“Ow!-“ Jax grunts, glaring yet ignoring the hint, “I’m just asking. You know about the Slytherins and Huffs’.”

“They just…” his eyes dart right back to yours, “they just don’t go together, man.” You hate the way he says it- hate how it feels like you’re being scolded, looked down on. Looking down at the yellow and black robes draped across your shoulder, you avoid Jaxon’s gaze.

Which, in hindsight, gives enough of an answer.

The two Gryffindors shuffle out of the bathroom, and immediately you let out a groan.

You’re fucked.

Hands run down your face in exasperation- this wasn’t supposed to get out. Draco probably knows now, people think that you’re dating.

The unusually large bathroom echoes mumbled curses back to you, silence so eery it feels haunting. You feel yourself beginning to doubt if you should even return to potions class- knowing Draco is sitting at the desk a few feet from yours.

“They just don’t go together, man…”

“A Hufflepuff? Liking Malfoy? Oh, please…”

Another sigh.

You feel your fingers pressing into your eyelids, passing over your temples and the wrinkles above your nose.

‘He’s gonna hate me’

Such a childish thought, but once it appeared you felt a sickening feeling in your chest because how you wish he doesn’t.

Outside, footsteps echo in the hallway.

And Draco himself, walks down the corridor towards the boy’s bathroom, taking his time with the silence. It’s a much better option, compared to Snape’s incessant grumbling.

He’s been trying to think the whole day- but is only now getting the chance thanks to that little posse of his.

For hours now, whenever given the chance, his mind drifts back to the conversations from early this morning at breakfast.

“Have you heard?” Pansy leans over the table, one eyebrow raised as if she’s careful of listening ears. Though, to that she doesn’t spare a second thought.

Blaise narrows his eyes, looking at her curiously. “Heard what?” He asks, and Draco impatiently looks at her.

“What now.” The blonde already doesn’t care, Pansy always seems to find some sort of gossip across houses. But this time, she’s sending a smirk right his way.

“Some little Hufflepuff has a crush on you.”

Now, to this, Draco does perk up- and his eyes flicker in your direction for only a moment. But, he doesn’t allow himself to acknowledge it.

“Mhm.” Pansy sounds so smug in her words, satisfied as both boys lean closer to her.

“Who?” Blaise asked, the roughness behind his voice covering any curiosity.

“Y/n L/n.”

Draco looks bewildered for a second- you? He never thought it was actually you, that was only a spark of hope in a moment of weakness. He was prepared to hear the name of some random girl he hadn’t learned the name of before- but the familiar ring of your name brought satisfaction to follow the shock.

He doesn’t even try to hide the smirk that shows through. Beside him, Blaise scoffs.

“You’re joking”. He says, and Draco shoots him a glare.

“What? It’s no surprise,” he says cockily, “jealousy’s never a good look”. The meaningless comeback earns a glare and an eye roll from Blaise- and surprises Pansy.

“Draco,” she narrows her eyes, “do you like this? Him?” She gives him a once-over, checking to see if he’s serious. He is.

Draco doesn’t give a straight answer, though, instead scoffing and going back to his plate.

“Get a life, why don’t you. Your gossip is boring me.” He says- but there’s the slightest pull at his lips, smiling your way.

Draco pushes open the large door, stepping inside the bathroom and immediately- his eyes land on you.

“Y/n?”

Your head snaps up, and a new feeling sinks into your stomach when you see him. You can’t tell if you wish it was someone else, or if this is perhaps what you were hoping for.

“Uh, hey.”

Draco steps closer, and you can see some sort of glint in his eyes, and you can’t quite name the warm yet uneasy feeling that follows.

“Skipping Snape’s class now, are we?” He teases in a smug voice, and your blood aches in your cheeks.

“Just taking a break-“ you don’t look at him, using a towel to wipe off your hands. You simply want to play it cool in front of him, though you’re unsure considering the past two times you seem to have failed.

“A break, hmm? I’m sure.” He says sarcastically.

Instead of picking a stall, like you expected, you watch from the corner of your eye as he approaches you and leans on one of the sinks.

“So,”

You freeze.

‘Don’t say it..’

“There seems to be a bit of a rumor spreading around.”

You visibly wince, the moment you prayed would never come has arrived. He found out- and just like the others, he knows that he could never accept a silly school crush from your house.

Turned away, you’re unable to see the smirk on his face- but you can hear it in his voice.

“Draco…” you mumble, feeling the dread of what his response is going to be. He’s closer now, you feel it- and suddenly his figure is right beside you.

“Y’know, if you wanted a date so badly you could’ve asked.”

You pause.

What?

His voice is new, because while there’s still such a teasing tone buried in the words, you notice…hope, as well.

You look at him, and notice his eyes have softened.

“What?”

“You heard me,” he says, “no need to have waited so long.” He still sounds partially like he’s joking, but his fingers are creeping closer to yours by the sink’s ledge.

The pieces are starting to connect in your head- he hasn’t pushed you away, hasn’t called you any names. In fact- he’s the one getting so close.

Draco watches, examining your face. He’s starting to feel impatient, actually, feeling he’s been clear enough. He doesn’t seem to understand how confusing his words can be- how your beating heart is twisting and unraveling in your chest. He’s too preoccupied with his own churning heart.

“What’re you saying?” You finally ask, and he nearly scoffs.

“Hell, you’re real thick in the head aren’t you?”

He doesn’t even try stopping himself as his hands cup your face, and his lips are molding right into yours.

He’s so quick with it, like he’s been waiting years for this, yet so smooth at the same time. You can feel your eyes as they shoot open, only to hazily fall half closed a moment later.

His arms loop around your waist, so you were almost bent into his body. You have to take a cautionary step back just to stable yourself, one hand holding his neck, it almost takes you too long to realize he is kissing you.

‘Holy shit, holy shit holy shit holy shit-‘ your mind races, and it feels like only half of it is functioning. Part of you is swimming, the other half melting into his arms because oh how long have you been waiting to feel him so close.

He’s smirking into the kiss now, breaking it into quicker, shorter kisses that mesh together to make one, long breathless one. Through the haze of his lips, your hand creeps into his hair and he wonders why he waited so long to experience this.

You tug slightly, other hand grabbing his jaw, and you pull him away.

The room is no longer silent, both of you catching your breath.

“I’ll take that as your confession, then?” You ask.

“‘Course,” he replies, “meet again after Potions?”

“Sounds good.”

[I hope you all enjoyed- I feel there’s probably more I could’ve added or something, but for now this is good. If anyone wants an add on or more or like a part two let me know!]

#Draco Malfoy #draco Malfoy x male reader #harry potter fandom #Harry Potter fandom x male reader #66 recs&replies

489 notes · View notes

neteyamslovrr · 1 year

Note

congrats on 2k!!🤍🤍

may i request number 8 + angst with ao’nung?? thank you!

FORGIVE YOU

thankuu smm for giving me this prompt, i had lots of fun with it. ao'nung is not as babygirl and he is more stupid meanie bf.

Cold, alone, and restless. That is what the last few weeks have consisted of every time you tucked yourself into the hammock for two. Only being used by one.

Ao’nung says he’ll be back before it is too dark, the stars in the sky being the only light that shines on your village. He says that he won’t get caught up with his friends, he will always be back to sleep right next to you.

But he isn’t. And he hasn’t been for days.

So now you lay with your back turned to the entryway of your shared home, listening to Ao’nung’s voice get closer. Laughing boisterously as if he didn’t care he has left you alone for another night.

You wanted to get up and scream at him. Maybe you would do it in the morning. The night begs you to sleep but your mind screams to argue with Ao’nung. To express the weight of his actions and how they ache your poor heart.

He walked in, large smile immediately dropping as he saw your tired form swaying softly on your shared hammock. He knew he said he’d be back to be with you, he knew he had betrayed your trust once again, and he knew he was hurting you.

He large feet padded against the fabric floor, the only sounds were his anxious breathing followed with your soft disappointed sighs.

“Flower…I’m sorry.” His hand rested on your shoulder, begging you to face him so you could sense his sincerity.

“You said you were going to be here with me tonight.” You looked away, staring harshly into the wall you faced. Your heart was beating as the confrontation of his actions teetered closer to you.

“I know. And I messed up…I am sorry.” Turning towards him, still laying in the hammock, glassy eyes fixated on his guilt ridden face.

“How many times am I supposed to forgive you?” He winced at your words, escaping your tongue, and lashing him in the heart.

“Just this once, I- I won’t do it again.” Rolling your eyes you scoffed. You couldn’t believe a word coming out of his mouth. How could you?

“How can I trust you? You have done nothing but lie and break your word.” His heart tore just like he had torn yours. How he wished he would’ve looked into the sky more to recognize it was time to go back home. Back home so his beautiful mate was not left to deal with the absence of his presence. Where he could treasure the moments they shared and not create memories of breaking your heart into two.

“I will show it to you. I promise.”

You pursed your lips, tired of the arguing. No longer wanting to talk about this, your body yearned for sleep. You shuffled over in the hammock, making room for Ao’nung. He was your mate, your other half, souls intertwined. You could talk about this in the morning.

“Let’s just sleep. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” Ao’nung frowned, he knew you were still upset. He knew you would talk this out in the morning, but he wished that when he shared this hammock with you, that you were not sharing despair. That is his own fault.

“I’m sorry flower.” He reiterated again as he slipped in behind you, arms hovering over your body, not sure if he still held the right to hold you.

You could feel his hesitance, and you couldn’t deny how much you craved his warmth for so long, Days of being without it. You lightly squeezed his hand, showing that even if in a fight he is still your mate, you would sort this out in the morning.

But now you let your bodies melt into each other, filling the tears in the other hearts, as Ao’nung hoped you would forgive him one last time.

thankyou so much for reading my loves <333 i'd love to see u in my notifs !!

#ao'nung oneshot #ao'nung x reader #aonung #aonung xreader #aonung x you #avatar the way of water #avatar oneshot #ao'nung fic #ao'nung fluff #avatar #ao'nung #avatar x reader #atwow #ao'nungfluff #ao'nung x fem!reader #ao'nung x you #aonung fluff #aonung x reader

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sanjis-moulinrouge · 8 months

Text

Unplanned Rescue

Sanji x reader | Fluff

Summary: The reader goes out to explore a village but inopportune events happen and needs to be rescued.

a/n: I needed some fluff and cute interactions, hope you like it. English is not my first language, so my apologies if something sounds unnatural.

cw: mild swearing

During the first weeks you’ve built a solid friendship with Usopp and Nami, the reassurance they offer you makes you grateful to have found them under past difficult conditions. You’ve already set routines that keep your interactions balanced and fun.

Part of the routines involve going shopping every time you arrive to a new land, you help Nami to select clothes or jewelry. Usopp sometimes takes you through foreign places to assist him buying tools that might be useful to invent artifacts. He's a great inventor and storyteller, long walks and talks makes you feel at ease.

Now, you long to reach land to go out with them somewhere.

“Guys, we are getting close to an island” Usopp calls out. “Y/n, it’s exactly what you wanted”.

“AAAAH! where are weee?” Luffy shouts as he runs towards the lower deck.

“Oi, someone is desperate to put her feet in the sand” Zoro adds, staring at you.

“It’s better for Sanji not to see that shining face of yours, y/n. Otherwise he's not going to shut up about it” Nami stresses laughing.

You feel your face turning red, looking around to make sure the cheff is not there, silence was your only way to pass Nami’s comment over.

Once on solid ground, Sanji goes out to watch the landscape from the upper deck. His figure is delightful to watch from your viewpoint, you couldn't help but notice him lighting a cigarette. He is the sweetest man, but your shyness has stopped you from getting to know him as you'd would like to since the first day you saw him.

He’s been aware of your self-imposed distance, but despite that, he’s always been kind, so kind that you’d like to tell him many things stuck in your chest. You’ve been avoiding doing any task with him, even going for groceries. His beauty is crushing, it makes your body weak.

“U-hm the weather is nice… You go, I’ll stay here. It’s my turn” Sanji shouts to the crew. Gaze fixed on him, you are the last one leaving the ship.

“I’ll prepare a delicious meal and drinks for you, y/n-chaawn and Nami-swaan!” you hear Sanji's sweet voice while waving his hand.

“Ugh, he’s so loud sometimes… y/n, would you mind going ahead with Usopp? I’ll find you later” Nami says, rushing to the opposite side of the road.

As you walk next to Usopp, you see Luffy’s and Zoro’s silhouettes moving forward in the distance.

For some reason, Usopp’s stories couldn’t catch your attention this time, there was internal noise pending that couldn’t longer bear.

Sanji is in your thoughts. Somehow, you have to leave your insecurity behind to allow him to know you as the others. At the moment, you wish to return to the ship to listen to Sanji’s stories about the All Blue. You were aware he hasn’t had the best childhood, there were parts of the story of his life that were missing, you felt the need to complete the puzzle of the straw hats’ personal stories.

When Usopp entered a shop, you decided to check the other stores around, you entered a large hall and luckily got to a place you like, libraries. You have some berries specially saved for occasions like this. Books about philosophy, mythology, romance were selected, but something was missing, something special, a gift... a cookbook. You've finally decided to offer him something valuable, you are certain that he’s going to appreciate that detail.

Leaving the library you realize that Usopp isn’t around. You perceive something is going on, people murmur and disperse through the small village, agitated kids run to their houses, and there's not much time for night to set.

“Bandits have come to sack the city!!!” someone screams.

You immediately think about sightings of The Going Merry in the area, but Usopp’s disappearance was strange.

Trying to remember the way back to the ship was hard. You followed your nakama without being conscious of the path, your mind was blank.

You stare at the place trying to keep calm, after a while you decide to go down a busy street to feel safer. The locals seemed to have regained their composure after a while, but now you're the one who's confused.

“Shit, I can believe that I also lose my sense of direction...”

Night has fallen, in a single desolate part of the city, you start to feel a non-human presence behind you. Walking faster doesn’t seem to help, beasts breathing sounds down your back. In a desperate act you start running, but two wild dogs reach you, attacking one of your ankles. The pain is unbearable, they wrestle and tear part of your leg. Distressed, you begin to hit one of the creatures with the bag full of books. As they release your ankle covered in blood, you stand up as fast as you can. You take refuge in a grove, to go unnoticed. “A-gh crap, this looks awful, I need to go to the ship.”

It’s already past midnight, the full moon illuminates you completely. The pain stuns you and the area is fully swollen. You already accepted that you have to wait until dawn, you have no idea if the early commotion at the village ended, the real reasons or real bandits behind it, you can't risk showing yourself as a foreigner, as a pirate. “Damn it hurts, fuck.”

The pain was so strong that you fell asleep under the bushes.

“y/n! psss, please… wake up” you listen from afar. “Darling, darling… Ahhh, fuck… your leg, beauty... please.”

Your unconscious body feels some generous warm hands. “Aargh, Sanji? Is that y-”

As you open your eyes you see Sanji's ethereal features, he is on his knees holding you in his arms, his fingertips caressing your face and head softly, your body trembles. Bursting into tears you sob “I’m sorry!”

“No, sweetheart. I should have come with you. I-I was restless on the ship… we've been looking for you for hours”

You felt a bit embarrassed that he sees you in that condition, a new unintentional connection with the charismatic cook has been born. You’ve always wanted that but not under these circumstances.

“We have to go back. I need you to get comfortable in my arms. I'm going to get up on the count of three… two… on–”

“Sanji, wait” you interrupt. “I-I’m so sorry for my avoidant behavior these months.”

His blue eyes are filled with amusement and curiosity. He looks captivated as your eyes meet. “It’s fine, honey. We all have different things to attend” Sanji chuckled warmly.

“No, don’t you get it?”

“W-what-” his brow furrowed. “What are you trying to say, y/n?” his gaze fixed on you again and later on your lips. His face was so close to yours that despite your physical pain, it felt satisfying, time stopped… It was a moment of vulnerability for both of you, he was nervous, blushing, his body irradiated warmth.

Lost in your thoughts, as you wrap your arm around his neck to make yourself more comfortable, you push your cheek towards his and give him a small kiss on his nose. His cheeks instantly heated up and he replied with a faint kiss on your lips.

“We’ll need many days to make up for lost time, my love” he cooes.

“Oh, I have a gift for you” you whisper as he gently takes you back to the ship.

#sanji x reader #one piece #one piece sanji #one piece x reader #sanji x you #black leg sanji #opla #sanji x y/n #reader insert #sanji fluff #one piece fluff #sanjis-moulinrouge-fiction

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suguruluver · 6 months

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“you can take it”

warnings - f!reader, nsfw, 18+, angry sex?, praising, etc. lmk if i missed anything. please try to ignore any errors ❦ !!

summary - gojo catches you pleasing yourself and isn’t too happy abt it.. AHHHHHH.

wc - 765

you’ve never been this needy in a while. but your boyfriend satoru is working late tonight, again, so he won’t be home for a while now.

he hates when you leave him out, he hates being left out. satoru will find any chance to fill your desires. it has been a while since you guys did anything so maybe he won’t be so mad.

you reach into the special drawer next to the bed and take out your favorite vibrator. you were already soaked just by the thought of gojo fucking you. you turn the toy up to the max and place it on your puffy clit.

the vibrator sent chills up your spine sending signals to the ball of nerves in your clit. you get a little carried away and push two fingers in your cunt curling them continuously.

you hear the doors unlock. you were in trouble. you quickly turn on the tv and pull the covers over your exposed body.

“hi baby, im home!”

“ohh hey satoru, you’re home early.. i missed you!” you say with a shakey voice

“yup! i missed you too baby. it was an easy day, so my boss sent everyone home. but what have you been doing?” he says talking off his work clothes.

“o-oh nothing.. just watching some tv, heh.”

“why do you have the covers on? it’s at least 80 degrees in here” he says confused

“i just got cold. i ate the last bit of the ice so yeah” you lie

“what is that noise?? is it the tv?”

shit, the vibrator is still on vibrating against the bed. you move your hands underneath the covers quickly turning it off.

“y/n were you just playing with yourself? you know i don’t like being left out”

“u-uh no baby..”

gojo comes closer to you pulling the covers off.

“fuck y/n”

“why did you just lie to me?”

“because i thought you would get mad”

“oh im definitely mad” he says looking at your naked body tremble

you look down at gojos pants and see a large bulge growing. he’s turned on.

he starts to unbuckle his pants with urgency. his dick is so hard it’s hurting him. he needs a good fuck just like you do.

“open your legs y/n” he says sternly

you hesitate. but you want this so bad. why are you hesitant?

“open your fucking legs” looking deep into your eyes

he was so beautiful. those bright blue eyes. his skin was so perfect. it glowed. not a blemish in sight. his soft white hair shined effortlessly.

you listen and without any hesitation he’s pushes himself into you.

“fuckkk satoruu wait..— please” you beg

“hell no, this is what you wanted, right?”

he was so right.. you did want this

“answer me y/n.” “you did want this.”

“yes— fuck, i wanted this satoru.”

“that’s what i thought” he says thrusting into you harder. both of his hands reach for your waist keeping you from trying to run away.

“you’re so tight, squeezing me so good baby”

you’re speechless. his dick is so deep in you that you can’t even form simple words.

your eyes are closed shut. tears running down your face. gojo kissed you letting you know that you’ll be alright.

“its okay baby. you can take it.”

you hear a buzzing sound and before you can even open your eyes, he places the vibrator you were using on your clit.

“shittttt, fuck satoruu—“ you cry out from the amount of pleasure it just gave you

“mhm— i know baby let it out”

you can feel the knot in your stomach become tighter. you know that gojo is close too because of how much harder he was thrusting into you.

“damn y/n, im about to cum in this pretty pussy.” he says breathing heavily

“im coming satoru, fuckkk—”

with that, gojo lifts your waist up hitting your spot even more.

“come for me baby, please”

you start to spasm on his cock. your legs were shaking uncontrollably

your mouth is left in an “O” shape as you both release at the same time.

you both are breathing heavier and heavier.

“do you feel better love?” he says kissing your body

“mhm. a lot better, but are you still mad at me”

he shakes his head almost immediately “of course not baby, i just know how much you liked to get fucked when im mad” he explains

“let’s go freshen up” as he says that, he lifts you up carrying you to the bathroom

“just don’t do it again.” gojos says laughing

#x reader smut #suguruluver #gojo satoru #jjk smut #gojo x reader smut #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen #black readers #black writers

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odxrilove · 10 months

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BIRTHDAY BOY (TEASER)

PAIRING: mingyu x f!reader

GENRE: fluff, friends to lovers, bday party!au? kinda confession!au, uni!au but not really mentionned

WARNINGS: , flirting, swearing, alchohol, drinking, one mention of being high (not yn or seventeen), etc typical party stuff, game of truth or dare, minghao is annoying x1 (jk), yn gets jealous a bit, yn and mingyu are in love ewwww, huge make-out session (borderline smut...) (JKKK. or am i), lots of tension + more?

WC: 440 for the teaser, +8.1k for the full fic

SYNOPSIS: It’s Mingyu’s birthday party, and Hoshi lets something out under the influence of alcohol. Apparently, you have two gifts prepared for him– completely throwing out the one-gift tradition your friend group strictly follows. However, Hoshi’s a liar — and a bad one at that — but it’s already too late. Even though Mingyu knows he’s supposed to be excited about all the gifts he’s receiving tonight, he’s (not so surprisingly) only interested in everything you’re giving him.

A/N: this was supposed to be a cute short drabble for his bday but exams happened and suddenly i found myself writing 8k of tension during summer break. rec song - i dont understand but i luv u by seventeen

FIC TAGLIST: @etherealyoungk @simpforyongbokk @luvhyun3 @haew0nz comment or ask/send an ask to be tagged!

back to masterlist !

THE FULL FIC IS OFFICIALLY OUT !

Mingyu hums, raising his head to look at the end of the hallway, where the door to the balcony is situated. When he returns his gaze to you, he tilts his head cutely, licking his lips. “You wanna wait by the balcony? I told the guests not to go on there too much so that i won’t get a noise complaint from the neighbors. I think it’s safe if you go there.”

With a smile, you nod at Mingyu, “yeah, that would be great. Thanks.” You place one of your hands on the wall next to the kitchen before leaning in so he hears you better over the music. “Don’t die in there by the way! We haven’t even gone to Iceland yet like we planned to years ago– it would be a waste for you to miss out on our extravagant bucket list, right?”

Mingyu’s laugh fills your ears, the sound making you smile from ear to ear. “C’mon, who do you take me for? Seok– Oh sorry.” Mingyu cuts himself off, lifting his two hands in the air with one still holding all the shot glasses. The girl, who just bumped into Mingyu, and who you recognize as one of your classmates from your major, pushes her hair behind her ear, blushing at your friend.

Before she leaves, she mumbles a few words, but the music is way too loud for you to make out what it was, and then she’s gone.

You don’t pay too much attention to it, as does Mingyu, who’s already back to look at you. It’s not the first and certainly not the last time someone is going to bump into one of you two at his party.

“Sorry, what were you saying?” You turn back to Mingyu, crossing your arms and making the silver necklace you’re currently wearing shine even more under the flashy led lights.

“Ah, sweetheart, you never listen do you?” Mingyu brings his free hand up to your jaw, tapping on the underside of your chin with his index finger. “I said, you need to stop biting your lips when you’re nervous. They’re too pretty for that.”

You can’t speak, your entire vocabulary having left your body. His hand then turns to cup the underside of your jaw, his thump grazing over your bottom lip, ultimately smudging a bit of your lipgloss. Your mouth falls open a bit at the shock but he doesn’t stop. “A pretty color.. for pretty lips. Suiting.” His thumb sweeps one last time over your lip before he retreats into the kitchen.

“Wait for me by the balcony, I'll grab our drinks for us.”

general taglist: @0x1lovebot @fairybinie @blaqpinksthetic @odetoyeonjun @pockyandme @soobin-chois @soobisms @junityy @kaimal @laylasbunbunny @jaeyunverse @enhacolor @honglynights @starry-mins @bibinnieposts @raevyng @yoonzin0 @hoeforcheol @pearlygraysky @4xiaojun

please do not copy, repost or steal any of my work. all content belongs to @odxrilove

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sungbeam · 1 year

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𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐬

model!choi chanhee x fem!assistant!reader

you were just supposed to be his assistant, but at some point, you'd come to mean a lot more to him.

6.4k words (WHOOPS my hand slipped), technically s2l, fluff, angst if u squint, slight pining?, kissing, model stuff and first world problems 😔✨, like one curse word, barely proofread

a/n: istg it wasn't supposed to be like this ;-; it would have been longer but i got impatient </3

Choi Chanhee once made a girl cry because she had forgotten his phone in the car. In his defense, he hadn't gotten much shuteye the night prior, but Kevin liked to always remind him of that instance.

They said that was the first, true moment the tabloids began painting him in a new light.

'Choi Chanhee, Model-zilla, Hits the Streets of Paris for Fashion Week Once Again'. 'Choi Chanhee's Ex-assistants Come Forward with Shocking Experiences'. 'Satin or Silk: the Truth Behind New's Refusal to Wear Alexander McQueen'.

The last one didn't even make sense; Alexander McQueen only used silk, anyway, and Chanhee had walked in one of his shows a few years ago. Chanhee simply hadn't the time to pen the designer into his schedule since.

The one about assistants? Well, they were all entitled to free speech, but that didn't mean that he would spare them any mercy if they decided to blatantly lie about him. He could always trust Lee Sangyeon, his personal attorney, to take care of business, if and when any of his ex-employees decided that a good payout was comparable to spewing filth.

Then there was you.

Chanhee hadn't needed a new assistant in a little over half a year since you came along. Fresh out of university with a bachelor's in communication and punctuality, you waltzed into his life, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. You'd sat across from him, no-nonsense; he hired you right there. (He had not regretted it since. This was the last time he would let anyone but himself do the interview process.)

The best part about you was not that you always had his schedule memorized before he did, or that you appeared at his apartment before the car picked you both up with his favorite coffee order, or that you actually had decent taste in perfume—not… that he paid attention to what perfume you wore—but it was the fact that you could look him in the eye when he spoke to you, and you to him.

"—and you have a fitting with Chanel at five o'clock this evening right after that meeting with Maison Margiela about the perfume line. We'll have just enough time to—"

Wow, your eyes were pretty in this lighting, he thought. The two of you sat before the massive, floor-to-ceiling window in his penthouse apartment. The entire city laid sprawling at your feet while you sat across from each other at his breakfast table, eating blueberry muffins and drinking lattes.

And for some reason, all he could think about was how nice your hair looked again today, how brilliantly the shine in your eyes was from the sunlight, how impeccable your fashion sense was—even if it wasn't perfect, but that could easily be remedied. Chanhee would have to remind you to remind him to—

"Chanhee. Chanhee, are you listening to me?"

He snapped out with a flutter of his long eyelashes. He reached for his cup of coffee, delicately bringing it to his lips. "Hm? Of course, Maison and then Chanel. Did Changmin cancel our dinner or are we still on?"

A smirk pulled at the corner of his lips when he saw how your expression lightened knowing that he was paying attention. You idly stirred your latte around with a little silver spoon. "He says he's still good to go for tonight. Same place, same time."

A nod. "Good."

He nudged up the Prada sunglasses on his nose as he turned his head slightly to gaze out the open window. It was an awfully beautiful day out today. The sunlight was gentle, the skies were an azure wave of silk, sewn with clouds of white. "Yn, dearest, are we clear until the Maison meeting?"

You blinked. "Yes," you answered, checking your watch for the hour, "it's 10:32 right now."

"Mm, that gives us about five hours to refresh your wardrobe."

Your lips parted, and he smiled in amusement. There was something so adorable about your flustered state. "Excuse me?"

"Call it a little token of my appreciation," he sang, standing up from the table to deposit his empty plate and cup into the kitchen sink. "Could you call the driver to round the front?"

"Oh, uh, sure—"

"Thanks, love. I'll be back in a few," he called to you just as he disappeared into his bedroom to freshen up. You were left at the breakfast table, dumbfounded. You'd only ever gone shopping with Chanhee for him or for someone else. Not you. You were always on the clock when you were with him, and you figured he would probably take everything you bought today out of your paycheck, but…

You couldn't deny the flutter of excitement in your chest like the wings of a butterfly. This could either be the best thing that happened to you… or a complete shitshow.

There was something odd about walking into one of Chanhee's go-to leisure shopping stores—Dior—with the mindset that you were supposed to be shopping for yourself. Chanhee had asked the driver to pull up to the Dior storefront even as the regular paparazzi camped outside.

Your eyes gazed longingly at the Macy's across the mall.

Chanhee followed your gaze with a little scrunch of his nose. "Absolutely not," he clicked his tongue, dragging you out of the vehicle and to the sidewalk.

The press already dubbed you a "miracle" for being in his employ for longer than a day. But when they got shots of him literally hauling you into the Dior… you could imagine what they would all claim now. This was going to be a whole lot of cleanup, but you had learned after months of working with Chanhee that he was way tougher than he looked. He also didn't mind biting back.

When the two of you were safely stowed away within the guarded interior of Dior, you breathed easier.

Straightening, you greeted the staff members with a shallow bow, who did the same to both you and your boss.

Chanhee wiggled his fingers in silent greeting, then beelined for a white, quilted blazer on a mannequin. A worker scrambled after him to talk about the piece while another stuck by your side to make small conversation.

"How was your morning?" They asked you pleasantly.

"Oh, it was quite nice! How was yours?"

"Pretty quiet," they smiled. They were about to say something else when both of you were interrupted with Chanhee calling your name.

His eyes were pinned to you from over the rim of his sunglasses. Draped over his arm was a tapered coat of some sort, a dress, and… oh, god no. "Yn, come here."

You could already hear your wallet crying. "Chanhee, I literally cannot afford a single thing in here—"

He pressed a palm between your shoulder blades and steered you in the direction of the dressing rooms. "That's besides the point because I can afford them; that's what matters."

Surprise made your footing falter. "Huh?"

"Silly Yn-ie," he teased, "did you think I was gonna bring you all the way out here to not treat you?" Before you could say anything else, he was shoving the items into your arms, and your body into the grandiose space of the Dior dressing room. He winked over his glasses. "Now hurry and put them on. I wanna see!"

He ripped the curtain closed, and you stood there for a moment.

In your hands were the jacket, the dress, and a pair of shoes that probably cost you more than your entire bank account combined. You blew out a puff of air, just as you heard a staff member offer him a glass of champagne on the other side of the curtain.

"No getting out of this, Yn," you muttered to yourself, then began hanging everything up."

Chanhee was no stranger to the effect he had on people. In fact, he wielded it like a dagger. It was how he had gotten so far in this industry in the first place other than his immaculate good looks, of course. The face of an angel and an attitude of the devil—at least, that was what one article had said about him. He quite liked it, actually.

There was something wholly different about his effect on you as you stood beneath his scrutinizing, heated gaze, as you tried on piece upon piece. He loved being able to unabashedly stare at you, to take in your flustered expression as you did little spins for him in the outfit of choice. For once, you couldn't look him in the eye, and when you had done so once, it had been when his tongue darted out to wet his lips.

It wasn't just the champagne he was tasting.

It was the next morning when you appeared in his home at 7 o'clock sharp, as usual, but with a new accessory hanging off your arm. It was one of the more low-key purses he had bought you yesterday—and to be honest, it was actually one of his personal favorites. It was a Chanel one, of course, and it complimented your pant suit quite nicely.

"Morning," you chirped, handing him his cup of coffee as he stumbled out of his room in a silk robe and with a yawn widening his mouth.

Chanhee smiled at the sight of you, graciously accepting the coffee from you. He leaned against the countertop next to you. "Good morning," he murmured lowly, peering at you over the rim of the cup, taking a languid sip.

He sighed as the caffeine began working its magic. "How are you this morning, dearest? Have a good night?"

You had set your purse down on the island, then moved away from him only to go check his refrigerator to see if he needed anything restocked. Always so attentive. "I had a good night. How was dinner with Changmin?"

"Lovely," he said fondly. "I see you are putting my gifts to use." His fingers danced along the gold chain draped along one end of the quilted leather.

He swore your cheeks flushed, but then again, his eyes had never tricked him for a second. "Ah, yes. Thank you so much for yesterday, by the way." The fridge closed softly, and you grabbed an apple from the basket on the counter to wash and munch on. "I really don't know how I can repay you—"

Chanhee dismissed you immediately, his wrist flicking outward. "Pfft, none of that. I told you it was all a token of my affection," he grinned, propping his chin onto his palm across the island counter from you. "And gratitude," he added. "I don't say this to just anyone, Yn, and I don't buy just anyone all that stuff—but I did it because I appreciate you."

Your chewing slowed and you swallowed. "Oh."

He said it so easily. God, was he lucky to have met you.

Knowing he had successfully rendered you speechless once more, he laughed lightly, deciding to change the subject. "What's today's schedule like?"

You immediately straightened; this was something you knew like the back of your hand. It was much more up your alley.

As you ran him through his activities today, you failed to notice the difference in his posture, the softer smile on his face, and the way his eyes could not leave you for a moment, not even to drink his coffee.

Grueling was an understatement. Today had been one of the worst days of your working existence under Chanhee's employ. You'd endured rough days and nights before, but today, it seemed to have been hassle after hassle after hassle. You probably got around thirty-thousand steps by how much you ran around trying to find emergency kits and emergency outfits and running to the emergency dry cleaner's.

As much as the fashion world enthralled you, sometimes you wondered how anyone could survive it.

Chanhee was just as maxed out as you were by the end. It was maybe three in the morning by the time the two of you collapsed into the backseat of his driver's car. Streets were barren at this time in the ungodly hours of morning, and your joints ached every time you breathed.

Chanhee was quiet as well as he leaned his head back against the headrest to allow his body some rest. He just barely managed to get through that last shoot—clearly the directors had no clue what they were doing, he thought with a dead look in his eyes. That was how he felt—dead. If it hadn't been for you swooping in with a creative direction…

You were brilliant; that much he was certain of. Without you, that shoot might have dragged on for another couple of hours, or Chanhee would have just walked out. Usually, he had a good sense and eye for things, but with everything that happened today, for once, he didn't have the energy to yell or direct.

He needed to treat you to brunch tomorrow, if he was even able to wake up in time—

His inner thoughts halted when he felt a sudden weight fall upon his left shoulder. He froze up.

Your head had slumped onto his shoulder, eyes closed and no doubt deep asleep. Your bangs had fallen out from the bounds of your ponytail and draped across your face as you slept. He could smell the Miss Dior on you with this proximity.

Chanhee smiled to himself, taking his other hand and brushing the hair from your face and gently caressing your cheek. "Cute," he murmured.

By the time the car rolled to a stop in front of his complex, Chanhee had made a couple of executive decisions.

He lightly roused you from your sleep, cooing into your ear, "Come on, Yn-ie. Let's get you to bed, hm?"

You hummed, lifting your head from his shoulder with a yawn. You rubbed your eye with no care for the makeup smudging. "Chanhee? Why're you still here?"

Normally, the driver would drop Chanhee off first and then you, especially when it came to late nights like this. But… what… was happening?

Chanhee helped you out of the car, thanking the driver while mustering up a kind smile for him. "You're too tired, love. I'm taking you upstairs to my place."

"Wait, I can't—" but you weren't physically protesting; your body ached and ached and ached. But this was your boss, your employer. This wasn't professional.

"Yn, you're exhausted," he countered, buzzing into the building and helping you inside.

You couldn't argue with him anymore. You just wanted your face to hit a pillow and be out for the night. "Okay," you mumbled, letting him press your face into his shoulder on the ride up the elevator.

"Good girl," he sighed. He tilted his head back against the elevator wall, one arm wrapped around your middle and the other cradling the back of your head. Just a little longer, then the both of you could finally get some well-deserved rest.

You would argue you had seen Choi Chanhee at some of his best and worst moments. He was one of the most beautiful human beings on this planet, and yet, none of the prior moments could even compare to when you stumbled out of his bedroom to the sight of his back to you as he fried eggs and ladled waffle batter into the maker in the kitchen. He had a big T-shirt hanging from his lean frame, as well as a pair of loose pajama pants on, and he crossed his arms over his chest as he waited for everything to cook.

Even at ten in the morning, the light pink waves of his hair looked immaculately styled. You almost forgot he hadn't gotten a perm in awhile.

The panic of waking up in his sheets instead of yours had faded when you recalled your conversation with him just seven hours prior. He had managed to wrestle you into an extra set of sleepwear he just had lying around (Gucci, nonetheless), before he deposited you onto his bed, then promptly curled up outside on the living room couch.

You swallowed. Now what?

It was then that Chanhee turned around with an innocent look on his face. You watched as it melted into something softer at the sight of you. "Good morning, dearest," he beamed, "sleep well?"

Drowsiness lingered at the corners of your eyes, but you somehow managed a nod. "Yeah, how about you?" You asked him quietly. Actually, that had been some of the best sleep you'd ever had. Something about his sheets with high thread count and the smell of Chanhee lingering on everything. But you weren't just about to say that to him.

"Well enough," he replied. He waved you over. "Come sit; breakfast is almost ready."

Your eyes widened a smidge. That was for you? Now you really needed to go home. "Ah, I appreciate it, but I've practically overstayed my welcome—"

He sent you a look. "Yn, come have breakfast with me."

You caved. Because at this point, you'd already screwed yourself over. And breakfast really did smell nice; what was the difference between Chanhee making you breakfast and you bringing him breakfast from the café down the street?

(You didn't even want to go home, as much as your logical brain was trying to urge you towards.)

So the two of you breakfasted, and for a moment, you could forget, for once, that you were just supposed to be his assistant.

Some things changed after that morning, and Chanhee found himself getting you to stay over more and more often. Even if he had to come up with something stupid like "You haven't watched the 2001 New York Fashion Week rerun?" For some reason, you bought into all his excuses, and even though he knew it was probably because you were always attentive to his needs, a part of him liked to fantasize that you felt it, too.

The pull.

Something had shifted after that morning when he made you breakfast and the two of you ate together at the breakfast table. Sleep had lingered in your eyes, and your hair was a mess, but it was soft and beautiful and… he'd never been so in awe at someone's "I woke up like this" look.

His heart had leapt at the sight of you in those pajamas with that subtle pout to your lips.

God, he thought he might sweep you into his arms and kiss y—

"New. Chanhee. Choi Chanhee—"

He blinked, lifting his eyes from his menu to meet Changmin's. "Hm?"

Changmin wrinkled his nose at him, adjusting the sunglasses seated atop his head to hang from the collar of his dress shirt. (How it managed to hang with two buttons popped open, Chanhee chalked it up to fashion magic.) "You're awfully quiet today. What, tabloids finally shut you up?" He joked.

Chanhee rolled his eyes. "One of these days, I swear, they will render me speechless with their ridiculous delusions," he muttered airily, half-heartedly skimming the menu again.

He and Changmin were seated at their usual booth in their usual restaurant at their usual time. It was their weekly dinner together, something they had kept up since their university days in order to keep themselves grounded. They, of course, touched base with all of their university friends often, but the two of them were two peas in a pod. They even refused to let Sunwoo in on these weekly dinners specifically (something the younger friend was undoubtedly salty about).

Changmin could figure out when Chanhee was occupied with something other than the present. Usually, he was all up and out of his seat dealing out gossip or what torture he and you had been… oh.

Changmin cocked his head to the side, nostrils flaring slightly as he tried and failed to suppress a sly smile. "How's Yn these days?" He asked nonchalantly, lowering his eyes to the menu in front of him even though he always got the same thing every time.

To his credit, Chanhee didn't even react. "She's lovely as always. Why do you ask?"

"I dunno," Changmin drawled, "you haven't gushed about her like you usually do. I feel like you hang out with her more than me."

Chanhee raised a brow at his friend. "She's my assistant; of course I'm going to spend more time with her."

"Yeah, but—"

"And she's a lot more agreeable most of the time."

"Hey!"

Chanhee grinned in impish delight. "You asked."

Changmin sent him a stink eye, huffing as he raised his hand up to summon a waiter. "Yeah, whatever. Okay, but you literally refused to go out with me the other night, and when I texted Yn if you had a schedule, she said that you two were at home!"

That got his attention. Chanhee pursed his lips together, sheepishness peering through his smile. "In my defense, she hadn't seen New York Fashion Week in 2001."

"You hated that year, Chanhee."

"Exactly."

Changmin sighed to himself, and just as he was about to add on, a waiter came by to take their order. Once that was done, Changmin laced his fingers over the table and leveled his friend with a pointed look.

"Just admit that you like her."

Oh, Changmin. If only you could hear the rapid palpitations of his heart when you called him out like that. Chanhee blinked innocently. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he swallowed.

It wasn't even two days later that Chanhee had you staying a little later at his place, once again. There was something jazzy and vibey playing in the background, while Chanhee finished up plating dinner and rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. You were over at the small table by the window pouring wine into twin glasses, your hair pulled haphazardly out of your face (for the most part) with a pearl-studded claw clip from Chanhee's personal PR box.

(You blatantly refused, but he then reminded you that he couldn't even use the clip himself.)

Chanhee didn't often think about sharing his life with someone, but it was moments like these—moments when he heard you hum under your breath, moments when the two of you could laugh about the day over dinner, moments when you weren't just his assistant but someone closer—that he could indulge himself. He wasn't a very domestic person; since childhood, he dreamed of places far away from home, seeing sights and experiencing cultures… but if he could come home to you? And experience this every time?

Suddenly dinner was over, and you were collecting dirty dishware and glasses to bring to the sink to wash.

"Yn-ie, hey, I can wash those—"

"No, no! You made dinner; I am washing dishes," you asserted, pushing him away from the sink when he tried to come up to you.

Chanhee broke into a laugh, coming up behind you to set his hands on your shoulders and rub the upper parts of your arms. "Okay, okay. Thanks, love," he said. He didn't even think before he pressed a kiss to your cheek and walked off to go to the bathroom.

Your cheek tingled where his lips had been, and you turned the faucet on to drown out the thrumming of your heartbeat in your ears. What was happening?

You felt like you were floating on air as you hummed to the music and washed the dishes, with the ghost of Chanhee's lips left lingering on your cheek. It served as a reminder of your growing affections for him. This was dangerous, dangerous territory, and yet… it was thrilling. It was new, bold, and delectable. It was Chanhee, for goodness sake.

He was the man you saw crying drunkenly over a cat video on TikTok, the man who lended you Gucci pajamas and his bed for the night. He was on the face of every magazine cover, always excited when you could read his mind about a certain piece of clothing. Everyone in the world wanted to be him or be with him. He was so out of reach, yet right in front of you.

Maybe it was the wine making your head buzz with this wave of unmitigated sentimentality.

You finished up with the dishes, drying off your hands with the towel hanging on the oven door. Chanhee sang your name out from somewhere deep inside his bedroom, and you followed his voice to his location.

He was seated on the rug in the middle of his walk-in closet, the white LEDs washing you with light. It was a far cry from the darkness of his bedroom and the warmth from the kitchen. Chanhee patted the spot next to him on the carpet, where he had a smattering of PR gifts littering the floor around him.

Curious, you lowered yourself next to him. "Are we sorting through PR stuff?" You asked, already making a mental catalog of all the things he'd probably want to keep and the things he'd want to donate.

Chanhee hummed his dissent, rising onto his knees and shuffling over to you. Your eyes widened as he stopped close to you and you held your breath. He raised a pair of twin diamond drop earrings from Tiffany and Co to your earlobes, eyes narrowed in consideration.

"No," he muttered, dumping the earrings into their box, then digging out another.

You scrambled to delicately put the earrings back into their proper holdings. "Chanhee, what are we doing?"

"You—" Chanhee returned with a pair of sapphire earrings this time, performing the same ritual as before, but this time smiling, "—are going to sit still and look pretty for me. I am going through the PR stuff for anything nice."

"Anything nice?" You parroted in disbelief. It wasn't like he just threw a pair of diamond earrings into a box like it wasn't nice, or anything.

"I've never seen you in pearls before," he said offhandedly. From a black velvet bag, he withdrew a string of pearls clasped at the end in gold. His mouth parted in awe, and you suddenly thought of how cute he looked. Chanhee, oftentimes, was attractive and elegant and spellbinding—but this Chanhee was adorable.

He eyeballed it around your neck, then moved to clasp the collar onto you. He brushed the stray strands of hair away from the nape of your neck, gently grazing the pads of his fingers along the warm skin there. The action sent a shudder down your spine, and you were reminded of the cheek kiss from earlier.

"There," he murmured, coming back around to inspect you from the front. "Looks much better on you than it would on me."

You scoffed, reaching up to touch the cool pearls seated on your collarbone. "I disagree wholeheartedly."

He had turned around to go digging again, but the grin he threw over his shoulder at you was a certified heart stopper. "Then we'll just have to go get me a matching one."

"This is the last time I'm letting a company get me lunch," Chanhee grimaced as both you and he feverishly dabbed at the sauce splattered on his cream silk blouse.

One of the interns working on today's interview and shoot had come to deliver him his lunch when you noticed that the sauce lid on top was a dark red and not the usual light mayo Chanhee always requested beforehand. That, as well as the fact that the lid wasn't fastened all the way. Suffice to say that when you were about to point it out, said intern became flustered at Chanhee's side profile and spilled his lunch onto him.

You made sure to send the intern away before Chanhee could react.

"This was the Burberry one Haknyeonie got me," he whimpered in devastation as he took in the mess of dark brownish-red on his chest.

"Hey, it's okay. The cleaner I usually go to can fix it up," you said, biting your lip and assessing the situation. You gave a sigh, straightening, then swiping at the dampness on your forehead. "For now, you'll have to change into something else."

Chanhee pouted. "I promised I would wear this one for the interview…" He glanced back over at the clothing rack in the far corner of the dressing room at the dozens of options he had, as well as the backups you had brought, when all he wanted was to wear the shirt Haknyeon had given to him.

You wondered how long you had until the interview. You wondered how fast you could run to the dry cleaners and how fast they could fix this, if only to make that pout on Chanhee's face go away.

He pursed his lips. "I'll change into the YSL one," he resolved, standing from his vanity chair to go grab the YSL blouse from its garment bag. "Y'know," he said to you as he disappeared behind the changing divider, "we'll probably see something about this in the tabloids sometime tomorrow, depending on how bored the press people are."

You leaned back against the vanity counter, mentally noting the time. Hair and makeup would be here soon since the interview was set for half past noon. Chanhee would have to wait until afterwards before he could eat lunch. You frowned, "It wasn't your fault, Chanhee."

"I know." You saw him drape the dirtied Burberry blouse over the top of the divider and you walked over to take it down and inspect the damage yourself. "But it doesn't have to be my fault."

Unfortunately, he was right. The press would do anything for a juicy story, even if that meant twisting the facts just a little. You abhorred those stories; you always saw Chanhee's eyes glaze over like a shield at the "model-zilla" headlines, when in fact, it had little to do with Chanhee's "attitude". You wondered if someone would blow up his reaction to this out of proportion—he hadn't said anything to the intern before they ran out of the room in tears, but you supposed if you had spilled coffee on someone with as much name power as Chanhee, then you would also freak out.

"I'm sorry," you said quietly, leaning slightly against the divider. A weight sank into the pit of your gut; you felt pathetic. These were one of the few things you couldn't just fix for him.

You thought you felt him lean back against the divider on the other side. "Nothing to be sorry for, dearest. It's just a shirt."

It wasn't just a shirt. It wasn't just the tabloids.

Chanhee, being the professional he was, carried on through the interview and subsequent photoshoot with elegance and grace. He wasn't in a bad mood, save for the slight melancholy in his smile when the intern's superior came by to apologize profusely and offer to have the blouse dry-cleaned for him. Chanhee politely declined—he only trusted one person with his items.

When you and Chanhee finally made it back to his penthouse suite, the sun had disappeared into the seams of the horizon, hoisting a bejeweled night into the sky. Chanhee collapsed onto the couch face-first while you dropped everything on the floor by the door and made a beeline for the refrigerator.

"I'm making tea," you declared.

Chanhee raised his head slightly. "Me too please."

You got the electric kettle started and brought out two porcelain mugs. While you waited for the water to finish boiling, you fished your phone out of your pocket to check your messages to see if the dry cleaners had alerted you yet as to the status of the blouse. On the way back, you had swung by to get the shirt to the dry cleaners. Hopefully it would be done by tomorrow morning so you could go pick it up.

Chanhee shifted and adjusted his positioning on the couch. He sat upright, leaning his cheek against his fist. "Yn-ie."

"Hm?"

"I'm lonely over here."

You huffed air out of your nostrils in a silent chuckle, but obliged him and went over to the couch. He raised his arms up toward you, making grabby hands and pouting. "You're lonely?" You repeated in amusement, slotting yourself next to him and allowing him to curl into your side.

"Well, not anymore," he said into your shoulder.

The apartment filled with the sound of water bubbling on the stove and the muffled sounds of the city outside the window.

With nothing said, you could imagine for a second that this was not your job, but your life instead.

You felt him move a little, his arms wrapping around your stomach. "Thank you," he murmured, "for everything."

Your chest tightened. "Of course," you replied simply. Because doing all of this for him was as easy as breathing air now. Taking care of him had become as easy as breathing air. It was just that simple.

He was quiet again, fingers fidgeting with the cuffs of your blazer. Something lingered in his mind.

"Yn…" He slowly brought himself to sit up straight, one hand braced on the cushion space between your bodies and the other on the back of the couch. His face was so close—you could see the baby pink hairs falling in his eyes, the bits of glitter on his eyelids, the length of his lashes brushing his cheeks. But there was something wobbling, shimmering in his irises like the ripples in a pool of water. "I think we need to talk."

Your voice was trapped in your throat. He was going to fire you. He was going to tell you that all of it had been a lie. He was going to—stop. Stop freaking out. You knew him. You knew him better than what the people on the outside only claimed to know about him. You gulped. "Okay."

Chanhee brought his hand up toward your face, but instead stopped short, his hand dropping. He wet his lip, head ducking for a second before meeting your eyes again. "You know how much I appreciate everything you do for me, right?"

Oh no.

You nodded shallowly, hands clasped in your lap. "Mhm."

"And you know that I would rather hurt myself before ever hurting you?"

You didn't like where this was going. "Chanhee—"

His eyes shuddered. "Just—just listen for a second. I promise I'll let you speak, just… I just need to get this out."

"I can't really think straight," you croaked. His cologne—god his cologne. You would die suffocating in his cologne, but he was so close and yet so out of reach.

You thought you saw hurt flash across his face. "Oh. Uh, I'm sorry—" He was leaning back now, and you were internally hitting yourself. You'd never heard Choi Chanhee stutter before.

You resisted the urge to say "come back". Come back, where you could pretend that he was yours. Shit, this had gone too far. "Chanhee, I think I have to quit."

Alarm shot his eyes wide open. "What?"

"I can't keep working for you because I have feelings for you," you blurted, staring him straight in the eyes. "I have to quit because the feelings—the want—I have for you are so strong and precariously unprofessional. And I'm sorry, because this was the best job I could've ever gotten, but—"

Chanhee grabbed your face and crushed his mouth to yours, effectively shutting you up. Shock had you freezing, but it wasn't long before you held him close and let him wholly devour you.

When he pulled away, his forehead was pressed against yours, the space between your lips near nonexistent. His hands were still cupping the sides of your face and his breathing was slightly labored; all either of you could feel, hear, smell, taste were each other.

"I love you," he whispered, almost inaudibly you thought you'd imagined it. But then he said it again, "I love you", and everything…

Everything settled.

"How could you?" After all, you were just… you. It seemed impossible that someone as high as he was could love someone like you.

His reply was simple, paired with a sweet return to your lips. "How could I not?"

You stood outside the massive, sky-piercing high-rise of Vogue headquarters, your heart pounding in your ears and your fingers drumming nervously against the seam of your dress pants. In about twenty minutes, you would be in the topmost office of the building interviewing for a chance to become CEO Anna Wintour's newest personal assistant.

"Well?"

You glanced over to your left where Chanhee stepped beside you, asking the driver to make a loop around the building and meet him back here in a few minutes. His hair, freshly dyed a silken midnight black, had grown slightly to mullet-length; and this morning, he was clad in a pristine white suit set in a classy contrast. A pearl collar sat on his defined collarbones like it was a throne. Beautiful, as always.

There were reporters lurking around here somewhere. That definitely didn't make any of this better for you.

You released a breath. "I've got this, right?"

He passed you a gentle, yet teasing grin. "Hey, you survived me. How much worse can she be?"

That made you crack a smile.

The two of you stood side by side staring up at the building for a moment longer. After you had quit being his assistant to instead be accepted as his partner, you and Chanhee worked to find you a new gig. You received about a hundred dozen job offers from lesser brands and big names when they all heard you were leaving Chanhee's employ on good terms. Anyone who survived Chanhee, and left with a stellar recommendation letter, was a hot commodity.

Chanhee reached for your hand, squeezing your fingers slightly. "Breathe, darling. You'll be in and out and hired before you know it."

He turned you around so you faced him. His tongue stuck out between his lips as he adjusted the pearl necklace around your throat, then the lapels of your jacket. "Wow," he breathed out.

"Huh?" You hummed with a smile in your eyes.

"You still take my breath away."

A nervous laugh fell from your lips, and Chanhee swooped in to taste it—that, your laugh.

"I love you," he murmured against your mouth. Nevermind all the press and paparazzi, or Anna Wintour, or anyone. This was just you and him, even for a little. You could imagine the headlines, but that was the last thing on your mind right now.

Your tongue swiped over his bottom lip to catch the last bits of him. "I love you, too."

There was a cunning glint in his eyes, offset by the soft smile on his face. "Okay, this is it. Call me if you need anything."

You began walking toward the entrance backwards. "What if I need you?"

His smile widened. "I said call me, didn't I? Anytime, anywhere." I'm yours.

tbz m.list

permanent taglist: @tayunji @im-a-big-mess @honeyhuii @y3jiishot @crazywittysassy @seomisaho @stopeatread @enhacolor @rnjfy @jaehunnyy @kpopjackie @spiderrenjunfics @soobin-chois @mingiholic @ja4hyvn @ethereal-engene @justalildumpling @vatterie @yogurteume @kflixnet

#kflixnet #the boyz x reader #choi chanhee x reader #chanhee x reader #the boyz oneshot #the boyz scenarios #the boyz fanfic #the boyz imagines #the boyz drabble #the boyz fluff #chanhee imagines #chanhee scenarios #chanhee oneshots #chanhee drabbles #chanhee fluff

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dellalyra · 1 year

Note

Hey,i saw your reqs are open! So if i may, can i request for gojo with a fem s/o who i as strong as him but no one knows that since she hides that from EVERYONE. (Maybe she thinks shes alone with a curse and she is toying with a special grade curse and easily kills it, and gojo accidentally sees that and is like.... You're stronger than you let ppl know?)

Thats it and i hope u have a great day!!

Family Formation - Part Nine

Summary: Satoru discovers the extent of readers cursed technique.

CW: fluff, canon typical violence, mentions of mythology, fluff, fluff, teen satoru and reader (17/18), the elders (angry face)

A/N: this was SUCH A FUN REQUEST I love reading about powerful readers so this was a lot of fun to write, I wrote it this was bc I also felt I needed to explore their dynamic pre-relationship and also Y/N’s cursed technique before I get to other *ahemshibuyaahem* parts of the story. thank u all so much for all the love and support :) <3

Recommended Listening:

Brutal - Olivia Rodrigo (reader’s fight)

The Fruits - Paris Paloma (the explanation)

The Tradition - Halsey (the backstory)

Won’t Bite - Doja Cat (the ending)

The sunlight reached its peak, reflecting off Satoru’s bright white hair. Geto was bored and taking a ‘rest’ day and Shoko… well, she threw a water bottle at home when he even approached her room. That left you, he needed someone to hang out with, something to do because all of this hanging around was going to drive him even nuts than he already was. He text Shoko, asking where you were since you two were joined at the hip usually and you weren’t answering your phone. She replied telling him you’d been sent on a mission alone that morning – some abandoned orphanage down by the Shinjuku district. The next line nearly made the man’s eyes pop out of his head – a semi-grade one? Alone? You were only in second grade and the same age as him. Only a 1st year. Sure, you could hold your own in a fight but – this seemed like a reckless match.

Pulling on his sneakers and bomber jacket (not wearing his uniform felt weird) he Googles Shinjuku Abandoned Orphanage and finds an article about one being shut down 3 years ago due to the children speaking of ‘witnessing paranormal activity’, it had been closed due to the terrible publicity surrounding it. He rang for a driver and pointed him in the right direction.

A 20-minute ride was filled with Satoru thinking about how he should have been sent on this mission – not you, he was the strongest sorcerer alive after all. He kept telling himself the gnawing feeling in his gut was excitement for a fight – not worry, he wasn’t worrying about you. No, not. Why would he?

He could hear Suguru’s voice in his head from their last mission together.

“Bro, you love her. Just accept it, my guy. It’s clear she’s into you too.”

The car pulls up and Satoru unfolds himself from the back seat and waves the driver off. The building in front of him is surrounded by barbed wire fences, it’s been vacant for a long time if the boarded-up windows set in the building’s imposing front are anything to go by. He could sense a strong cursed energy, definitely a semi-grade one – along with something else, something stronger. Something far more ancient and far more powerful. It was familiar but different.

He had to find you.

He pinpointed the location where both energies were – third story, east wing, 5 doors down the corridor. He raced his way down thinking about how he’d love to practice his techniques warping abilities so he could quit all this running around. Maybe someday in the future, he’ll be able to just *poof* into a room. He was surely gonna do that to annoy Shoko.

He slowed down, nearing the room as he heard a familiar laugh coming from the room.

He knew that laugh, it always made his heart skip a beat – but why were you laughing now?

You were meant to be in danger. Not that he was hoping to be your knight in shining armour so he could see that shiny look of adoration in your eyes – no, that’s ludicrous.

The door was hanging off its hinges and nothing could have prepared him for what he saw inside the room.

You.

Y/N.

But – different.

You stood, your stature still miniature in comparison to his lanky, boyish frame but you seemed so much larger now, your presence was pulsating through the room – overwhelming to anyone but him.

Your feet were bare on the concrete floor and you seemed to almost hop around your prey, your tiny little hands, nails usually painted a pretty pale green – we’re still pale green but not your nails, no – claws were protruding out of your dainty little hands. He could see from here they were as sharp as any cursed knife. Your hair, seemed longer and wait, were those… vines? Vines and leaves seemed to grow from your head as naturally as the hair itself, mingling with the pretty cascade of your hair down your spine. Your eyes he so often couldn’t take his own off were alight and you were talking, and when you opened those pretty lips that he flirted with you about how much he’d like to taste your lip gloss – leaving you to tell him to save his flirts for someone he was into (both of you were so oblivious to the obvious feelings that you held for each other that Shoko and Suguru might cry if it went on any longer), he saw two sharp as needle fangs, pearly white on your pillowy lips.

You were completely and utterly ethereal.

What shocked him – was the mess in the middle of the room. A grotesque mess of a curse – horrifyingly long, spindly limbs attached to a body that was just stretched mottled skin over bones – the whole body covered in beady eyes, almost insect-like. The creature had no discernible head, just those torturous limbs. He’d seen worse things before.

He had seen your techniques, you could do things like to make a wall of thorns to deflect curses - he’d seen you summon whips of vines to lash at and bind a curse, he’d even seen you seemingly have a chat with a ladybug one day. And of course, your marksmanship with your cursed longbow was unrivalled, sniping shots that seemed impossible. He knew you were a very capable sorcerer, the most intelligent he knew in the school (even beyond Nanami). Your love for books helped that too.

What shocked him was what you had done. It looked like the very earth was cooperating with your every whim, grasses and vines and tree branches had broken their way through the floor and were caging the fighting curses limbs as they grew weaker and weaker against your onslaught. There was a beam coming through the ceiling, moonlight? At 2 pm? It seemed to sear and burn the curse in licking flames as it shot down onto it before returning to the shape of a small, silvery orb and absorbing itself into your palm.

“You lay here, waiting each day for night to fall, didn’t you? To prey on these children, to torture their little minds with fears and terrors – to be the monster under their bed. The children who were already scarred and frightened – but you knew that, and you loved it, didn’t you? Oh, you loved the feeling of drinking up the screams of those innocent children – and do you know what that makes you? It makes you a monster. Funnily enough, my family were taught and raised for one destiny, but me especially, I was born with ancient rage, and I was born with the strength for one thing – to kill monsters, just like you.”

And with that, you notched an arrow into your bow and muttered something under your breath.

“You won’t harm anyone anymore. Sleep well.” And with a smile, the arrow tip glowed a soft gold and flew threw the air into the restricted body of the curse who was quickly engulfed in a golden light as it screamed and fell, returning to the ground as nothing but dust.

“Nurture the earth now, do some good for the world.” You whisper, low enough that Satoru could barely hear. How you still manage to keep your heart so soft will always amaze him.

Satoru’s phone dropped from his hand, and you spin, notching another arrow into your bow and aiming directly at his head.

You gasp when you realise who’s here.

“Gojo, what are you doing here? How long have you been there?” You ask, lowering your weapon.

“Y/N. What the fuck. YOU HAVE CLAWS.” His jaw was hanging open, hardly believable image of what he’d seen.

That ancient energy wasn’t another curse, you hadn’t been in danger – you had been the danger.

You sigh. Gojo would have found out sooner or later, guess it was sooner. A part of you was worried about what he’d seen, would he think it ugly? Would he think you cursed? This boy – you had accepted your feelings but even though you thought (idiot) he’d never love you back, you didn’t want him to think any less of you.

Well, no escaping this conversation now.

“Wanna grab boba? I’m done here so, we can grab some on the way back to school. I’m guessing you have some questions.”

Uncharacteristically quiet, he just nods.

You walk ahead, slinging your bow on your back and taking out your phone. He sees you dial Yaga’s number.

“Hey, yeah it’s all done. Just as we thought.” You say, and he hears the deep rumble of his sensei’s voice through the speaker.

“Yeah thing is, I’ve had an unexpected visitor. Seems someone thought I might not be able to do it alone so showed up at the end. Yeah, I have it handled. Yup, exactly who you think. Yaga! Stop! I’ll see you later.”

You hang up the phone, just as you reach your favourite boba shop.

“Drinks are on you, Satoru – you gatecrashed my mission.” You smirk.

“Hardly gatecrashed if I turned up and feared for the safety of my pretty face!” The shock had worn off now and he was just in awe and desperate to hear what the fuck he witnessed.

He ordered you both your usual orders and sat across from you at a secluded table outside. You notice the dewy drop of sugary tea on his lip, his skin glistening under the golden sun. God. How can someone be that beautiful, surely it’s illegal?

“So sugar - you’ve been hiding something from your dearest darling best friends, haven’t you?” He looks at you with eyebrows raised.

“Not my choice. It’s a complicated situation. Yaga thought it best to keep it under wraps until I’m 18.”

“I hear ya – but the question still stands: keep what under wraps? Here was me coming to my princess’s rescue,” your cheeks flushed at his (what you thought) casual flirting.

“It’s a long story – you sure you’ve got nothing better to be doing, Mr Honoured One, no ladies to dazzle with those pretty eyes of yours?” You laugh, slurping up a brown sugar Pearl.

“Oh I’ll always have enough time for you, sugar, plus – am I not dazzling a pretty girl now?” You both giggle it off, unaware that he’s being serious and that you were dazzled by him long before today.

There’s a beat of silence.

“My family’s inherited technique. The elders think it’s long extinct but I was born with it. Legend says my family is descended from dryads, forest spirits, you’ve known that nature is the root, no pun intended, of my technique since the start but – it goes a bit deeper. I’m listed as grade two, but only because the elders don’t know the truth. I’m meant to hide everything until I’m 18, so only 5 months left to go anyway. The elders will throw a bitch fit when they find out. Your ancestor La and mine worked together, and when I was born my mother and grandmother chose to keep the technique hidden until I was legally an adult and could make my own informed choices about whether or not I wanted to stay part of the jujutsu world. The elders… don’t take kindly to my family. We’re kind of considered outcasts, like the Inumaki clan.” You say, taking a breather to sip your drink.

“Why? Your mom is so nice” He adds in.

“Ah well, my family, we’re very much a matriarchal family. The women have typically done everything in their power to fight the elders on their idiocy. Given that they’re old, sexist men – this didn’t go down well. So we’ve typically been hounded by them. Then, I was born. Not only the heir to my clan but a woman which ancient cursed abilities. Our family has always scared them, but I’m their worst nightmare trifecta. I made a deal with my family, I’d keep it secret until I’m 18, then I’m free to do as I wish..” You added, smiling, because in truth – being the bane of the elders’ lives was a source of pride.

“So they hid it until you can make your own choices, and take the helm of the clan leader at 18?” He asks.

“Yeah, my mom just wants a quiet life. She’s travelling the world writing of jujutsu sorcery and my grandma is holding the fort. We’re not quite the Gojo’s, Zen’in’s or Kamo’s – but we’re a very old sorcery family, so we’ve influence enough.”

“Y/N. You know you’re not grade two, right?” He asks, dead serious.

“I know, Gojo. I’m special grade. Yaga is a friend of my uncle’s so he agreed to keep it all quiet.” You finish up your drink.

“Gojo – what I’ve told you, only Yaga knows. This stays between us, okay?” He nods and crosses his heart.

“And don’t worry, you’re still the strongest. I’m just good backup.” He giggle, swinging your bag over your shoulder and motioning for him to follow.

“You say that part of your technique is ancient? And thought extinct? Which part? Now you’ve told me I wanna see everything.”

You look back and forth between the streets, and you find an empty alley.

You stop.

He stops.

“Snow leopards are your favourite animal, right?” You ask and he wonders why his heart skips a beat at you remember such a silly detail.

He cocks an eyebrow and agrees.

“I’d tell you to close your eyes, but it won’t do much good.” And with that, a flash a golden light encompasses you and instead of the oh so pretty girl he loves seeing in front of him is a snowy white, fluffy, golden eyed leopard.

And in a flash, you’re back in front of him.

“I can’t do it for long. It’s still really taxing to do and zaps my cursed energy.” You say, gripping his elbow and making your way back to the main road.

“Y/N. I hope you know. That might have been the coolest thing ever. Oh! Can you do like a little mouse so I can just hide you and carry you around in my pocket all day and give you cheese and –” his enthusiasm is cut off by your loud laughter.

“Maybe when I’m stronger Satoru, then I’ll stay with you all the time and you won’t have to follow me to my missions when you’re bored.” You’d text the driver to pick you both up.

“Hey! I was worried! I didn’t know you were some freaky nature fairy when I left did I? !” He grins, and god he looks so handsome in the late afternoon light.

You swat his arm.

“You’re one to talk Mr. I have nearly the same number of eyes as a spider.” And with that he tosses your much smaller form over his shoulder.

“Hey – you might be cool but I’m still the strongest and right now, it’s time for me to demonstrate that.” You half heartedly thump at his back as you laugh at him to put you down.

The car pulls up, a curious gaze from the driver who is thoroughly confused by why you’re over Gojo’s shoulder.

He tosses you into the backseat of the car.

“That’s for keeping secrets from your bestest friends ever.” He flicks your forehead, buckling your belt.

You just roll your eyes.

The drive back home is filled with idle chatter, but Gojo can’t stop thinking about how goddamn fucking perfect you are. You’ve always been strong, kind, beautiful, sexy, funny but god the feral determination he saw in you today shook him to his very core. You say your goodbyes as you head to shower and sleep, but your phone buzzes that night – with a terribly photoshopped picture of your face on a mouse, captioned – ‘btw- ur technique, it’s really beautiful Y/N, I’m really hpy I saw you like that, and thx for telling me, u nd ur secret r safe w me ’. You can’t fight the smile on your face, a weight lifted off your shoulder now that the boy you love knows everything about you – well, except that one secret. The one that you’re hopelessly in love with him.

Maybe some day.

TAGLIST: @vesta-ro @lilithlunas @mialexandruh @sassy-cat-in-town @madam-ri @cjm-cookiethief

Requests open <3

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jjk #jjk x reader #gojo fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #pixie writes: family formations

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